(no subject)
Summary: Sam is still a baby. That makes Frodo a little over 12. This happens when he and Bilbo make a visit to the Gamgee’s house.
Rated: Less than G
AN: No slash, sex, and profanity. Completely fluffy.
My gratitude goes to slipperieslope for beta and reminder. :)
Cry
“Oh, ssh, ssh, Samwise. Keep still. There’s a good lad.” But when Bell reached for another ladle of water and poured it over baby Sam’s head, rinsing the remains of the suds off his hair and face, the boy jolted in alarm. Sam sputtered as water got into his eyes and nose, and the crying recommenced.
The adjacent door between the bedroom and the washroom creaked open, then there was a head peeping inside. A sigh of relief was heard as the person discerned what was taking place.
“Sam always cries when taking a bath, Mrs. Gamgee?” Bell’s head whirled around at the small voice.
“Frodo,” she smiled. “It’s Bell. And yes, Sam seems to fear the water. He never enjoys his bath.”
Frodo took several steps to the room and dipped a finger into the basin. His eyes widened in wonder.
“It’s not too hot and not too cold.” A pair of moist eyes on a bright, flushed face watched him intently, a tint of upset feeling mixed with piteous plea flashing in them. Frodo reached out to stroke Sam’s plump cheek as his mother lifted him out of the water.
“Come now, love,” she murmured, her voice gentle and soothing.
“Yes,” mimicked Frodo. “You are safe now.”
~ * ~ * ~
In the front room of No. 3 Bagshot Row, Frodo slid to sit closer to Bilbo. He tugged at his uncle’s shirtsleeve and whispered in his ear.
“Uncle, did I cry during a bath when I was a baby?”
“Pardon?” Bilbo looked lost as he turned to face his young cousin, but recovered soon. The older hobbit pondered.
“No, I think not,” he replied after a time. “I don’t think I’ve heard your mother complain about that. But your mum, once told me that you usually cried afterwards.” Bilbo’s lips curved into a smile. "It was as though you didn’t want your bath time to end.”
Bilbo encircled an arm around Frodo’s narrow shoulders and pulled in the lad affectionately. He stilled for a split second as a thought crossed his mind, and sniffed the thick, curly locks of his young nephew. The gentle hobbit whispered, more to himself.
“You’ve always loved the water, dear.”
~ * ~ fin ~ * ~
Rated: Less than G
AN: No slash, sex, and profanity. Completely fluffy.
My gratitude goes to slipperieslope for beta and reminder. :)
Cry
“Oh, ssh, ssh, Samwise. Keep still. There’s a good lad.” But when Bell reached for another ladle of water and poured it over baby Sam’s head, rinsing the remains of the suds off his hair and face, the boy jolted in alarm. Sam sputtered as water got into his eyes and nose, and the crying recommenced.
The adjacent door between the bedroom and the washroom creaked open, then there was a head peeping inside. A sigh of relief was heard as the person discerned what was taking place.
“Sam always cries when taking a bath, Mrs. Gamgee?” Bell’s head whirled around at the small voice.
“Frodo,” she smiled. “It’s Bell. And yes, Sam seems to fear the water. He never enjoys his bath.”
Frodo took several steps to the room and dipped a finger into the basin. His eyes widened in wonder.
“It’s not too hot and not too cold.” A pair of moist eyes on a bright, flushed face watched him intently, a tint of upset feeling mixed with piteous plea flashing in them. Frodo reached out to stroke Sam’s plump cheek as his mother lifted him out of the water.
“Come now, love,” she murmured, her voice gentle and soothing.
“Yes,” mimicked Frodo. “You are safe now.”
~ * ~ * ~
In the front room of No. 3 Bagshot Row, Frodo slid to sit closer to Bilbo. He tugged at his uncle’s shirtsleeve and whispered in his ear.
“Uncle, did I cry during a bath when I was a baby?”
“Pardon?” Bilbo looked lost as he turned to face his young cousin, but recovered soon. The older hobbit pondered.
“No, I think not,” he replied after a time. “I don’t think I’ve heard your mother complain about that. But your mum, once told me that you usually cried afterwards.” Bilbo’s lips curved into a smile. "It was as though you didn’t want your bath time to end.”
Bilbo encircled an arm around Frodo’s narrow shoulders and pulled in the lad affectionately. He stilled for a split second as a thought crossed his mind, and sniffed the thick, curly locks of his young nephew. The gentle hobbit whispered, more to himself.
“You’ve always loved the water, dear.”
~ * ~ fin ~ * ~