LOTR: Samwise Gamgee: 038. Touch
Title: In the Still of the Night
Fandom: LOTR
Pairing: Samwise, Rosie
Prompt: Touch
Word Count: 426
Rating: G
It was a very small sound. Barely more than whisper, really. But Rosie instantly woke from a sound sleep. The mother of four little ones with another on the way, she had a sharp ear for distress, even at so early an hour. She lay absolutely still in the darkness and held her breath as she waited for the sound to repeat itself.
Samwise murmured in his sleep. He lay next to her, sleeping on his side as he was want to do. But this was not a gentle sleep. Although his eyes were tightly shut, his expression was one of concern and his body shifted restlessly in the wake of something Rosie could not see. He was trying to speak but no sound came to her ear.
Bending closer, she whispered, "Sam?"
If he heard her voice, there in the dark landscape of his dream, he gave no sign. Instead he continued to wage a silent war.
"No," he breathed, an anguished sound. Small beads of sweat glistened on his furrowed brow. "Frodo, no!"
It was then that Rosie realized that Sam's dreams had carried him back to that terrible time. A dark time that, even now, caused Sam wonder if he had done enough for his part. Or how things might have happened, if only he'd acted sooner or better.
To her mind and those of many others, including Frodo himself, Sam had nothing to regret or any action to be sorry for. But guilt is very personal thing and not something easily banished. It had been a long time since Sam had been lost in a nightmare of the Quest, but guilt and doubt know no calendar.
Rosie gently caressed her husband's brow then softly kissed it. A single tear was rolling down Sam's cheek and she kissed that, too, before carefully laying down once more and gathering him into her arms. She whispered sweet assurances into his ear, comforting him as she tried to banish the dream with love and patience.
She lay awake long after he had finally settled into peaceful sleep, his head pillowed on her breast. Watching until she was certain the terrible dream had fled, she wondered what had summoned it after so long a time.
But Samwise knew, deep down inside, even if his conscious mind did not.
It was the 25th of March. The anniversary of the day Frodo had stood upon the edge of the World and claimed the Ring of Power for himself. When Sam, helpless to stop him, had failed his beloved Master.
Fandom: LOTR
Pairing: Samwise, Rosie
Prompt: Touch
Word Count: 426
Rating: G
It was a very small sound. Barely more than whisper, really. But Rosie instantly woke from a sound sleep. The mother of four little ones with another on the way, she had a sharp ear for distress, even at so early an hour. She lay absolutely still in the darkness and held her breath as she waited for the sound to repeat itself.
Samwise murmured in his sleep. He lay next to her, sleeping on his side as he was want to do. But this was not a gentle sleep. Although his eyes were tightly shut, his expression was one of concern and his body shifted restlessly in the wake of something Rosie could not see. He was trying to speak but no sound came to her ear.
Bending closer, she whispered, "Sam?"
If he heard her voice, there in the dark landscape of his dream, he gave no sign. Instead he continued to wage a silent war.
"No," he breathed, an anguished sound. Small beads of sweat glistened on his furrowed brow. "Frodo, no!"
It was then that Rosie realized that Sam's dreams had carried him back to that terrible time. A dark time that, even now, caused Sam wonder if he had done enough for his part. Or how things might have happened, if only he'd acted sooner or better.
To her mind and those of many others, including Frodo himself, Sam had nothing to regret or any action to be sorry for. But guilt is very personal thing and not something easily banished. It had been a long time since Sam had been lost in a nightmare of the Quest, but guilt and doubt know no calendar.
Rosie gently caressed her husband's brow then softly kissed it. A single tear was rolling down Sam's cheek and she kissed that, too, before carefully laying down once more and gathering him into her arms. She whispered sweet assurances into his ear, comforting him as she tried to banish the dream with love and patience.
She lay awake long after he had finally settled into peaceful sleep, his head pillowed on her breast. Watching until she was certain the terrible dream had fled, she wondered what had summoned it after so long a time.
But Samwise knew, deep down inside, even if his conscious mind did not.
It was the 25th of March. The anniversary of the day Frodo had stood upon the edge of the World and claimed the Ring of Power for himself. When Sam, helpless to stop him, had failed his beloved Master.