LOTR: Samwise: 27. Parents
Title: New Neighbor
Fandom: LOTR
Character: Samwise Gamgee
Prompt: 27. Parents
Word Count: 436
Rating: G
The Gaffer puffed on his pipe, the fragrant blue gray smoke swirling around his grizzled head. "Well," he said at long last after a comfortable silence, "He's gone and arrived and settled himself in."
His wife looked up from her sewing. "Did you see him?"
"Aye, that I did, and a fine looking lad if I'm any judge of things. He's got his mother's eyes, seems to me."
Belle nodded as she nimbly finished a stitch and moved the needle to knot the thread. "Poor dear," she said sympathetically. "It can't be easy finding yourself in a new home so suddenly."
"And with the likes of Old Bilbo!" sniffed the Gaffer. "He's an odd one, is Bilbo. Nothing good can come of it, mark my words! He'll turn the lad into a true Baggins, he will. Off running to adventures and getting into trouble when he should be staying at home like sensible folk."
"Ham," warned Belle with a glance to their youngest who sat on the floor at their feet, playing with his favorite wooden pony and cart.
But Samwise had already heard and looked up from his toys with open curiosity. "Who, Da?" he blurted. "Who's moved into Bag End with Mister Bilbo?"
"Young Mister Frodo, that's who," replied the Gaffer, and shook his head as if this were a very sad thing indeed. He puffed out a smoke ring and eyed his boychild through the wavering center. "Mind you don't go bothering him, Samwise Gamgee," he said, pointing with the long stem of his pipe toward the window for emphasis. "Those Bagginses are a queer lot and best left to themselves, understand?"
"Yes, Da," said Sam, looking down at his toys. He was a good lad and tried to do as he was told. But sometimes, it was as if there was a little voice in the back of his mind urging him to do things he knew his parents might not approve of. Right now, for instance, that little voice was wondering about Mister Bilbo's mysterious nephew. A lad, was he? How old? Was he close to Sam's age? Or older still? Too old to play at tag or wizards and elves?
Sam looked up at the window with a wistful expression. I wonder if he'll be friends with me, he thought.
The Gaffer watched his youngest, easily following his train of thought. "I know you want to be meeting new friends," he said, not unkindly. "But it's not our place. They're higher folk than you and me. Don't you be forgetting that, lad."
Sam bowed his head and sighed. "Yes, Da."
Fandom: LOTR
Character: Samwise Gamgee
Prompt: 27. Parents
Word Count: 436
Rating: G
The Gaffer puffed on his pipe, the fragrant blue gray smoke swirling around his grizzled head. "Well," he said at long last after a comfortable silence, "He's gone and arrived and settled himself in."
His wife looked up from her sewing. "Did you see him?"
"Aye, that I did, and a fine looking lad if I'm any judge of things. He's got his mother's eyes, seems to me."
Belle nodded as she nimbly finished a stitch and moved the needle to knot the thread. "Poor dear," she said sympathetically. "It can't be easy finding yourself in a new home so suddenly."
"And with the likes of Old Bilbo!" sniffed the Gaffer. "He's an odd one, is Bilbo. Nothing good can come of it, mark my words! He'll turn the lad into a true Baggins, he will. Off running to adventures and getting into trouble when he should be staying at home like sensible folk."
"Ham," warned Belle with a glance to their youngest who sat on the floor at their feet, playing with his favorite wooden pony and cart.
But Samwise had already heard and looked up from his toys with open curiosity. "Who, Da?" he blurted. "Who's moved into Bag End with Mister Bilbo?"
"Young Mister Frodo, that's who," replied the Gaffer, and shook his head as if this were a very sad thing indeed. He puffed out a smoke ring and eyed his boychild through the wavering center. "Mind you don't go bothering him, Samwise Gamgee," he said, pointing with the long stem of his pipe toward the window for emphasis. "Those Bagginses are a queer lot and best left to themselves, understand?"
"Yes, Da," said Sam, looking down at his toys. He was a good lad and tried to do as he was told. But sometimes, it was as if there was a little voice in the back of his mind urging him to do things he knew his parents might not approve of. Right now, for instance, that little voice was wondering about Mister Bilbo's mysterious nephew. A lad, was he? How old? Was he close to Sam's age? Or older still? Too old to play at tag or wizards and elves?
Sam looked up at the window with a wistful expression. I wonder if he'll be friends with me, he thought.
The Gaffer watched his youngest, easily following his train of thought. "I know you want to be meeting new friends," he said, not unkindly. "But it's not our place. They're higher folk than you and me. Don't you be forgetting that, lad."
Sam bowed his head and sighed. "Yes, Da."