Summary:  A collection of hobbit-centric drabbles and ficlets.  Please read author notes for details and warnings.

Author notes:

This collection deserves some explanation.  It isn’t a series, but I think of them together and they were written at the same time, for the same reason, so I have gathered them together here.  There are 4 drabbles, 3 ficlets and most are deathfics. (That’s the warning: Deathfics ahead.)  With the exception of Those Left Behind, all are unedited, or edited only to make sure that the letters are in the right place at the right time.  They are posted in rough chronological order because they fit together better that way, but they all stand alone, so they could be read in any order you please.

The title Ever the Twain is taken from the title of a short story by Anne McCaffery.  It can be found in her book A Gift of Dragons.  A Day Will Come is taken from the song Use Well the Days performed by Annie Lenox.

That said, I hope you enjoy.

Holdur

Here in the Sun

It was the most heartbreakingly beautiful thing Sam had ever seen.  The sun stained the edges of the sky all the shades of red and orange and Sam thought that he would cry from the splendor.  In the distance, he could still make out the shape of a graceful white ship that had waited countless years in these harbor waters for its final journey.

Waited for the Ringbearers.

Waited to take his Frodo away.

Waited to leave Sam behind.

Sam felt the lines that connected him to Frodo growing stretched and thin.  Soon they would break completely and Sam would be alone.  Tears started in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks as he gasped for breath. 

For a wild, passionate moment, he hated the beauty of the Elven ship and hated the beauty of the sunset. 

But then Sam heard a song.  Perhaps it was a trick of the wind through Elvish halls, or maybe it was Sam’s own imagination, but he heard a faint singing in the air.  It grew stronger as he listened more closely and it filled his body with sound and harmony. 

Then Sam found that his tears had turned to tears of joy and that the pieces of himself that had crumbled around him as the ship faded into the distance were coming together again.  He was being restored, and though it was imperfect and not the same as he had been (How could it be!) Sam found wisdom hidden in the rebuilding.  The song that mended his seams said it was right to cry and right to change.  It said that Frodo could never leave him forever.  No one leaves forever.

So Sam sat down on the pier and cried.  He cried for himself, and for Merry and Pippin, but he cried most for his dear Frodo.  The song sang in his ears and cried with him, but it also reminded him of the laughter of his sweet daughter and the love of Rosie and the joy that Sam felt at being a father.

So Sam stood up, wiped his eyes and went home.

The song let him go and remained on the shore, for anyone who might need it in the future.

Night

When night falls, the halls of Bag End echo with Frodo’s footsteps.  Sam fusses next to Rosie and tries to concentrate on the breathing of the new baby who sleeps in a cradle at the foot of their bed.  In the darkness his children are no longer a buffer for what memories may prey upon his mind.  Sometimes he fears that he will wake up to dust in his mouth, a dark sky overhead and fire in his master’s eyes.  Then Sam hearkens to the traces of Frodo that linger in the night.

The sea will call him soon.

Those Left Behind

Pippin goes to the inn to get roaring drunk.  It wasn’t always like this.  Before, when he was young, he drank lightly and happily, without ever really loosing control.  Now though, drinking is a serious affair and Pippin is so far gone that he begins to tell stories.  The others at the inn laugh, pour more ale and encourage him without really believing a word, even though every word is true.  When Pippin is so far away that he comes back crying, Merry materializes out of the shadows, slings his cousin’s arm over his shoulders and helps him stumble from the inn, leaving the laughter behind.  Merry can only carry Pippin so far these days and they fall to the ground beside the path.  While Pippin sobs tears of ale into his arms, Merry looks up at the sky and wonders where Frodo is.

Just Over the Horizon

Just over the horizon, there is a hobbit hole waiting for me.  Bilbo will be there, and my parents, all waiting to welcome me home after so many long years.  It will be comfortable and safe.  The night air will be warm and gentle, there will not be any fell beasts scratching at the door.  I will find rest there, and peace.  Sam will come, and Merry and Pippin, they will find their way.  I will be there to welcome them to this safe haven.

Just over the horizon.

A Day Will Come

Companion piece to Just Over the Horizon

It was beautiful here.  Part of Sam was vaguely surprised, but the other part knew it shouldn’t be any other way and, if it was, then something was wrong.  Sam inhaled the warm, earthy air and felt distinctly hobbity in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time.  Sam curled his toes in the dirt and took a moment to look around.  He was on a path and the only thing to do on a path was to go forward, but he hesitated.

There, to the right.  Sam’s breath caught at the magnificence.  A sturdy little gate swung on its hinges in the wind and beyond lay a mish mash of greens, reds, purples and any other color that belonged in a garden.  The plants of this garden ran wild, tangling each other and running up the posts of the fence.  Sam’s hands immediately began to burn with the itch to tame this rampant growth.  The gardener within him roared to life.  He could manage it.  He could nurture these plants into something bigger and more beautiful than before.  Maybe he would find his old Gaffer in this untidy forest.  Maybe together, they could…

Mr. Frodo is waiting. 

He didn’t know where the thought came from, but he knew it was true.  As he tore his eyes from the garden, the gardener’s itch became a burning desire to see Frodo gain.  He had been gone so long now, and he was so close.

He followed the path down and around, passing little gates and gardens and perfect little hobbit holes that Sam longed to settle into. With every step the need to see Frodo again increased, until Sam couldn’t stand it and broke into a run.

He stumbled to a stop in the middle of a grove of trees.

“Mr. Frodo!” he called.  The path did not go on.  Was this the end?  After everything?

“I’m here Sam,” he heard Frodo call back.  Sam’s brow crinkled at the line.  It seemed that he had heard Frodo say that before, when night was dark and evil.  Sam shrugged it aside.  Night was never dark here.

“It took you long enough,” Frodo continued.  He sat with his back against a tree, a book open on his chest, as if he had fallen asleep reading.

“I came as soon as I could.”  Frodo smiled at him brightly and beautifully.  Sam felt relieved that Frodo could smile here, that Frodo was finally healed. 

“Well then, now we can go on,” Frodo said, standing up and brushing himself off.  Now Sam could see a small path between the trees, nearly overrun by the surrounding forest. 

“Where are we going?” Sam asked.  Frodo smiled an easy smile that Sam hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I don’t know,” Frodo laughed, “But wherever it is, we’ll get there together.”  He reached back. 

Sam laughed pure joy as he took the offered hand and they disappeared between the trees.

Ever the Twain

When the sun falls, Pippin curls up next to Merry one last time.  Nearby, the king dozes in a rocking chair by the fire.  He had promised Pippin he wouldn’t leave him alone tonight.  His son gathers a blanket to tuck around the cousins.  Pippin has one arm draped over his Merry’s chest.  The touch anchors Pippin to Merry so that he may follow behind, as he had always done when he was a tiny hobbitling and Merry a patient tween.  Eldarion covers the pair and his fingers linger on Pippin’s pale cheek. 

They are together now.  It is right.

 Waiting

Companion piece to Ever the Twain

Merry love, where you so eager to leave?  Was the world so heavy that it pulled your eyelids down so you couldn’t see anymore?  Or where you tired of looking up for everyone?  Tired and lonely?  Even with your Pippin by your side?

Gentle fingers through soft curls.

Are you happier now?  Gandalf once told me it was another journey.  Are you waiting for me to take the first step?  When we were young, you would deliberately slow your footsteps and find reasons to pause on the road.  Do you still?

A hand smoothing fine linens over a still chest.

I will come, if you wait for me.  Isn’t that why we made the journey?  To leave our beloved Shire and make it easier to leave each other?  To see the White City one last time and visit old friends with the hope that the comfort of friends would ease the pain of the one left behind?  Did you know it would be me?  Is that why you came here, where I am still their smallest knight?

A kiss on a cold brow.

Wait for me just a bit longer, Merry.  Then we can journey together again.  Maybe Gandalf will be there, with Frodo and Sam.  Maybe they will be waiting.  Strider…

A tear.

Strider will understand and he will explain to Legolas and Gimli.  They will understand.

Two friends, side by side.

Just a little bit longer Merry.  Wait just one more time.

Still.