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febobeHere it is - for my flist, this is the same version you saw in preview; thanks so much for all your reassurance and kind words! :D *HUGS* To other readers, welcome! Hope you enjoy. :)
Title: Heartache
Fandom: J.R.R. Tolkien
Characters: Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Gandalf
Prompt: 047. Heart.
Word Count: 541
Rating: PG for mild thematic darkness
Summary: Immediately following the Quest, while watching over a sleeping Frodo, Sam receives some disconcerting news about his master. . .and Frodo, upon waking, muses upon the situation, drawing some conclusions of his own.
Author's Notes: These ficlets are set within my Silence AU, in which Frodo never sailed West, but instead continued to live in the Shire with Sam, Rosie, and their growing family. Not a perfect happily-ever-after, thanks to Frodo's continued ill health, but still a warm AU. Warning: I am a foodie writing about hobbits, so some of my ficlets are heavy on the food and/or drink imagery. Consider your notice served!
He watched his master sleep, studying the delicate rise and fall of the thin chest, willing each breath to lead to the next. . .and the next. . .and the next. Even now, there seemed a slight hitch to Frodo's breathing, and more than once Sam fretted that each breath might be his last.
"You must not trouble yourself so, Samwise."
Sam looked up at Gandalf mournfully as the wizard entered their tent. "I don't reckon as I know how to *stop*, sir."
"No. . .no, I don't suppose you would." Leaning forward, Gandalf steepled his fingers thoughtfully, watching Frodo through clear eyes which carried their own traces of anxiety. "Sam. . .what has Aragorn told you of your master's condition?"
Sam hesitated. "Only a little. He - there was something about the smoke, and all that, bothering us, which I understood, seeing as how sometimes it still seems like I can smell it, and then there was something more, too. . .about poor Mr. Frodo's finger still paining him where it's gone, and. . .something about his heart, though I don't rightly remember what he said."
"Yes." Gandalf nodded gravely. "Come with me; Frodo will be fine while we step outside for a few minutes."
Reluctantly Sam followed him, casting a long look back toward Frodo's bed on his way out the tent-flap. Outside, the two crossed some distance to a small grove of trees.
"I do not wish Frodo to overhear, though he must learn of this eventually," explained the wizard quietly. "But you recall correctly: Frodo's heart has been weakened by this trial. He is not," he added swiftly, seeing the beginning of tears in the gardener's eyes, "in imminent danger of death, but his health is not likely to improve to the degree you knew before your journey, and he will require special care for the rest of his days. . .both along the journey home and after you return to the Shire."
"And he'll have it." Sam set his chin stubbornly. "Only tell me what he needs, and he'll have it, if I have to climb another mountain to get it!"
***
Inside the tent, Frodo yawned, stretching slightly as he awoke from another long nap. It seems I do nothing but sleep since we were brought back, he mused wryly, rolling from his back onto his side, snuggling into the nest of pillows propping his head and shoulders up. Breathing felt a little difficult, as if he could not completely catch his breath, and still he felt exhausted. He wished only to rest. Food did not even sound particularly appealing, though he tried to eat when they offered it - after all the hungry days in Morder, he could hardly bear to refuse such offers now.
Something was wrong. He could feel it deep inside, knew with a dark certainty that pieces had been shattered which could not be put back together.
But there was nothing for it. Sam would be devastated if he let go and allowed himself to slip away, no longer eating or swallowing the bitter medicines Aragorn pressed on him, permitting the darkness to claim him at last.
There was no choice but to go on.
Sam was counting on him.
-the end-
Title: Heartache
Fandom: J.R.R. Tolkien
Characters: Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Gandalf
Prompt: 047. Heart.
Word Count: 541
Rating: PG for mild thematic darkness
Summary: Immediately following the Quest, while watching over a sleeping Frodo, Sam receives some disconcerting news about his master. . .and Frodo, upon waking, muses upon the situation, drawing some conclusions of his own.
Author's Notes: These ficlets are set within my Silence AU, in which Frodo never sailed West, but instead continued to live in the Shire with Sam, Rosie, and their growing family. Not a perfect happily-ever-after, thanks to Frodo's continued ill health, but still a warm AU. Warning: I am a foodie writing about hobbits, so some of my ficlets are heavy on the food and/or drink imagery. Consider your notice served!
He watched his master sleep, studying the delicate rise and fall of the thin chest, willing each breath to lead to the next. . .and the next. . .and the next. Even now, there seemed a slight hitch to Frodo's breathing, and more than once Sam fretted that each breath might be his last.
"You must not trouble yourself so, Samwise."
Sam looked up at Gandalf mournfully as the wizard entered their tent. "I don't reckon as I know how to *stop*, sir."
"No. . .no, I don't suppose you would." Leaning forward, Gandalf steepled his fingers thoughtfully, watching Frodo through clear eyes which carried their own traces of anxiety. "Sam. . .what has Aragorn told you of your master's condition?"
Sam hesitated. "Only a little. He - there was something about the smoke, and all that, bothering us, which I understood, seeing as how sometimes it still seems like I can smell it, and then there was something more, too. . .about poor Mr. Frodo's finger still paining him where it's gone, and. . .something about his heart, though I don't rightly remember what he said."
"Yes." Gandalf nodded gravely. "Come with me; Frodo will be fine while we step outside for a few minutes."
Reluctantly Sam followed him, casting a long look back toward Frodo's bed on his way out the tent-flap. Outside, the two crossed some distance to a small grove of trees.
"I do not wish Frodo to overhear, though he must learn of this eventually," explained the wizard quietly. "But you recall correctly: Frodo's heart has been weakened by this trial. He is not," he added swiftly, seeing the beginning of tears in the gardener's eyes, "in imminent danger of death, but his health is not likely to improve to the degree you knew before your journey, and he will require special care for the rest of his days. . .both along the journey home and after you return to the Shire."
"And he'll have it." Sam set his chin stubbornly. "Only tell me what he needs, and he'll have it, if I have to climb another mountain to get it!"
***
Inside the tent, Frodo yawned, stretching slightly as he awoke from another long nap. It seems I do nothing but sleep since we were brought back, he mused wryly, rolling from his back onto his side, snuggling into the nest of pillows propping his head and shoulders up. Breathing felt a little difficult, as if he could not completely catch his breath, and still he felt exhausted. He wished only to rest. Food did not even sound particularly appealing, though he tried to eat when they offered it - after all the hungry days in Morder, he could hardly bear to refuse such offers now.
Something was wrong. He could feel it deep inside, knew with a dark certainty that pieces had been shattered which could not be put back together.
But there was nothing for it. Sam would be devastated if he let go and allowed himself to slip away, no longer eating or swallowing the bitter medicines Aragorn pressed on him, permitting the darkness to claim him at last.
There was no choice but to go on.
Sam was counting on him.
-the end-
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