Hello all! Just the other day, I got this really cute idea for a sequel to
His Rose. I was always a bit angry with myself for leaving that story
before Sam and Rosie got married, and had Elanor, and all that. So, I am
going to deal with that in this story.
This story is actually a huge leap of time from where His Rose left off, but a lot of the gaps will be filled with flashbacks and such.
Sorry about the short first chapter, but I just wanted to set the stage.
Please review, and enjoy!
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Samwise Gamgee sat hunched over a mug of ale at the Green Dragon Inn, tapping his fingers aimlessly on the wooden table.
His ale forgotten, he tried with all his might to focus on the random rhythms his fingertips played on the table's edge. First he would put his index finger down, tapping twice. Then his other fingers would follow, tapping three times quickly in sequence. This beat he had been toying with for the past four minutes and thirty-six seconds, if he counted correctly from his frequent glances at the clock on the wall. Previously, he had been experimenting with several different rhythms, and now he felt that it was time to switch again. Thinking for a moment, he then spread the fingers of both hands out on the table, like a pianist preparing to perform. He began with two of the fingers of his right hand, and his left index finger, tapping four times, and then . . .
"Sam," a voice said, straining to sound composed. "I understand how you must feel right now, but must you keep drumming on the table? I fear that it is grating on my patience."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo." Sam mumbled shakily. He really truly was sorry. Frodo had done more than his share in the past day. Sam had grown more and more nervous in the past week, as his wife Rosie's time grew near for her to deliver their first child. With the nervousness, came an increasing level of clumsiness and edginess. Finally, just that very morning, Frodo, despite his failing health, had dragged Sam away from the house to the inn, simply to get him out of the way. The child was expected to come any day now, and everyone knew that with Sam the way he was, the farther he was from Bag End, the better.
'It's all my fault I have to be here,' Sam thought glumly. 'I want more than anything to be with my Rosie, but all I managed to do is be a nuisance.'
He began to tap his fingers on the table once more, and then catching himself, he pulled them into his lap. That didn't help much, for his hands still twitched restlessly. Finally, he clasped his hands together tightly, trying vainly to keep still.
Frodo noticed his friend's discomfort. "Sam," he sighed, "For all you know, it could be another week before the child comes. Do you really want to be this way for another whole week?"
Chewing his lip, Sam jerkily shook his head.
Smiling faintly to ease Sam somewhat, Frodo replied, "You know that Rosie's told you a thousand times not to be this worried. I tell you now that if you must be worried, save it for the time when you would be expected to be. Just try to think about other things for the time being."
Nodding, Sam drew in a deep breath. Don't think about Rosie. Got it.
He looked around the room, grasping blindly for something else to think about. He spotted Fredegar Bolger over at another table, laughing with some friends.
Sam grinned as he remembered the first time he and his friends had gone to the Green Dragon Inn after they had returned from their travels. Although Frodo had preferred to remain home, Sam, Pippin, Merry, and their friends still had a good time. They had brought the too-thin "Fatty" Bolger with them. After a large meal, which all of them had done complete justice, they had gathered around the table with their mugs as they shared stories and jokes.
Sam's grin widened as he remembered the certain lass who worked there. She had glided past the table on numerous occasions, turning her head to wink at Sam. His cheeks blushed at the mere memory.
'But now, Rosie's back home expecting a child any day,' Sam's thoughts were again brought back. He was so worried.
With a start, Sam remembered his goal to keep his mind away from this subject. Too late.
Sam cursed inwardly.
TBC
This story is actually a huge leap of time from where His Rose left off, but a lot of the gaps will be filled with flashbacks and such.
Sorry about the short first chapter, but I just wanted to set the stage.
Please review, and enjoy!
****************************************************
Samwise Gamgee sat hunched over a mug of ale at the Green Dragon Inn, tapping his fingers aimlessly on the wooden table.
His ale forgotten, he tried with all his might to focus on the random rhythms his fingertips played on the table's edge. First he would put his index finger down, tapping twice. Then his other fingers would follow, tapping three times quickly in sequence. This beat he had been toying with for the past four minutes and thirty-six seconds, if he counted correctly from his frequent glances at the clock on the wall. Previously, he had been experimenting with several different rhythms, and now he felt that it was time to switch again. Thinking for a moment, he then spread the fingers of both hands out on the table, like a pianist preparing to perform. He began with two of the fingers of his right hand, and his left index finger, tapping four times, and then . . .
"Sam," a voice said, straining to sound composed. "I understand how you must feel right now, but must you keep drumming on the table? I fear that it is grating on my patience."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo." Sam mumbled shakily. He really truly was sorry. Frodo had done more than his share in the past day. Sam had grown more and more nervous in the past week, as his wife Rosie's time grew near for her to deliver their first child. With the nervousness, came an increasing level of clumsiness and edginess. Finally, just that very morning, Frodo, despite his failing health, had dragged Sam away from the house to the inn, simply to get him out of the way. The child was expected to come any day now, and everyone knew that with Sam the way he was, the farther he was from Bag End, the better.
'It's all my fault I have to be here,' Sam thought glumly. 'I want more than anything to be with my Rosie, but all I managed to do is be a nuisance.'
He began to tap his fingers on the table once more, and then catching himself, he pulled them into his lap. That didn't help much, for his hands still twitched restlessly. Finally, he clasped his hands together tightly, trying vainly to keep still.
Frodo noticed his friend's discomfort. "Sam," he sighed, "For all you know, it could be another week before the child comes. Do you really want to be this way for another whole week?"
Chewing his lip, Sam jerkily shook his head.
Smiling faintly to ease Sam somewhat, Frodo replied, "You know that Rosie's told you a thousand times not to be this worried. I tell you now that if you must be worried, save it for the time when you would be expected to be. Just try to think about other things for the time being."
Nodding, Sam drew in a deep breath. Don't think about Rosie. Got it.
He looked around the room, grasping blindly for something else to think about. He spotted Fredegar Bolger over at another table, laughing with some friends.
Sam grinned as he remembered the first time he and his friends had gone to the Green Dragon Inn after they had returned from their travels. Although Frodo had preferred to remain home, Sam, Pippin, Merry, and their friends still had a good time. They had brought the too-thin "Fatty" Bolger with them. After a large meal, which all of them had done complete justice, they had gathered around the table with their mugs as they shared stories and jokes.
Sam's grin widened as he remembered the certain lass who worked there. She had glided past the table on numerous occasions, turning her head to wink at Sam. His cheeks blushed at the mere memory.
'But now, Rosie's back home expecting a child any day,' Sam's thoughts were again brought back. He was so worried.
With a start, Sam remembered his goal to keep his mind away from this subject. Too late.
Sam cursed inwardly.
TBC