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ataraxionlogs2012-09-22 01:49 am
ringbearer) wrote in ataraxionlogs2012-09-22 01:49 am
Entry tags:
this year's birthday
CHARACTERS: Frodo and you!
What: It's Frodo's Birthday, along with his Uncle's. As they were born on the same day, Frodo celebrates them both quietly this year. It is not how he expected it to be, but he does as hobbits do and manage as they always have. Pipeweed helps too, just saying.
SUMMARYS It's Frodo's birthday, along with his Uncle's. This year he celebrates it quietly.
Whenever a Baggins had a birthday, it was a great event. Most if not more than half the Shire would come and there had always been lively parties of enormous size held in Bag End. Ever since he had come to live with Bilbo in his younger years, Frodo had never known a dull birthday--even the quiet moments were precious to him. That year when they had his Uncle's birthday (he had turned eleventy-one, himself, 33) most of the Shire attended. Gandalf had cast brilliant fireworks and there had been dancing, laughter and his Uncle's boisterous voice even at such an age. How he remembered hiding from the Sackville-Bagginses, before he'd sold his home to them for the beginnings of the Quest.
For a moment it didn't seem as long, as Frodo quietly sat in a chair in the oxygen gardens; smoking a pipe. As most might not know, hobbits are fond of things that are green, from vestcolors, doors and good earth. Anything remotely similiar to something found on solid ground was better than nothing, and so Frodo found himself near whatever was as the familiar date crept upon him.
While he knew it was his birthday, he did not feel it as keenly as he felt his Uncle's. How he'd have traded all the palaces in the world to see him again.
Yet he had not seen Bilbo since Rivendell and he had been younger then and not as tired as he was now. Still, with a fine pipe and two generous bags of pipeweed, he could not say the Ship had been entirely unkind.
So on this day, instead of declaring it openly as Bilbo might have, Frodo Baggins quietly smoked from his pipe, focusing on how many large rings he could make from each puff as they floated to the top of the cieling.
Happy returns, He thought to himself, and it was a little sadder than it ought to have been just the same.
What: It's Frodo's Birthday, along with his Uncle's. As they were born on the same day, Frodo celebrates them both quietly this year. It is not how he expected it to be, but he does as hobbits do and manage as they always have. Pipeweed helps too, just saying.
SUMMARYS It's Frodo's birthday, along with his Uncle's. This year he celebrates it quietly.
Whenever a Baggins had a birthday, it was a great event. Most if not more than half the Shire would come and there had always been lively parties of enormous size held in Bag End. Ever since he had come to live with Bilbo in his younger years, Frodo had never known a dull birthday--even the quiet moments were precious to him. That year when they had his Uncle's birthday (he had turned eleventy-one, himself, 33) most of the Shire attended. Gandalf had cast brilliant fireworks and there had been dancing, laughter and his Uncle's boisterous voice even at such an age. How he remembered hiding from the Sackville-Bagginses, before he'd sold his home to them for the beginnings of the Quest.
For a moment it didn't seem as long, as Frodo quietly sat in a chair in the oxygen gardens; smoking a pipe. As most might not know, hobbits are fond of things that are green, from vestcolors, doors and good earth. Anything remotely similiar to something found on solid ground was better than nothing, and so Frodo found himself near whatever was as the familiar date crept upon him.
While he knew it was his birthday, he did not feel it as keenly as he felt his Uncle's. How he'd have traded all the palaces in the world to see him again.
Yet he had not seen Bilbo since Rivendell and he had been younger then and not as tired as he was now. Still, with a fine pipe and two generous bags of pipeweed, he could not say the Ship had been entirely unkind.
So on this day, instead of declaring it openly as Bilbo might have, Frodo Baggins quietly smoked from his pipe, focusing on how many large rings he could make from each puff as they floated to the top of the cieling.
Happy returns, He thought to himself, and it was a little sadder than it ought to have been just the same.
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Curiosity brought her over to the little hobbit, who she gazed down at in something like surprise.
"What are you doing?"
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"Having a bit of a smoke, that's all. Good day to you." If it was even the afternoon in space, still, it was the polite thing to say.
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She settled beside him, kneeling in the thick jungle growth.
"My name's Cameron. I'm new here." And, in case Frodo hadn't noticed in all his years, "You're very small."
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The words don't really surprise him, though he does smile a bit in response to them. "Yes, I'm told that quite often here. I'm a hobbit, if you've heard of them. I fear that few do save those from home."
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"It was given to me by this ship. I think it sent straight from home."
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"Big Folk?" She grins. "That's funny. It fits us. Do hobbits like Big People?"
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"Yes, one named Legolas of the Woodland Realm. He is an elf with peerless skill with a bow and a dear companion. In fact, this would be a place most familiar to him. To both of us."
"Ah, I've forgotten. My name is Frodo Baggins."
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As for him, he was not as strong bodily as he was before the journey. It was far more wearying.
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But the more serious question remained. "What do you hide from? At home."
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"All sorts of things."
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She looks at Frodo, taking in physical details. The exhaustion, the scars.
"People have hurt you."
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Her perception is not something he's prepared for, and Frodo looks up at her with a strange expression on his face.
"Some have."
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"You're upset."
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"I'm only tired, Miss Cameron." It isn't a lie. There are very few words he can think of that could describe the suffering he's known. Will continue to know.
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"You can sleep here. I'll make sure no one gets you."
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Frodo could have many uses; it's tactically sound to make him into an ally.