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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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"I'm sorry, dear Miss Brienne, but you gave me quite a laugh. It is no small thing to try a hobbit's way of enjoyment. If anything, given practice you would make fine smoke-rings, I'm certain. "
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"Perhaps once you breathe some clean air. "
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