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ataraxionlogs2013-04-09 12:03 am
ringbearer) wrote in ataraxionlogs2013-04-09 12:03 am
Entry tags:
if i'm running out of time
Character: Frodo Baggins
Location: Library/Hallways
Summary: Sometimes a book is the best distraction when there isn't much available to you. Or Rings work.Notes: Please specify where you're tagging him! I get confused easily. :)
If there were anything to be said about hobbits, it was one thing. They endured. While most never placed themselves in a position where they would have to endure anything more than, say, a particularly long and uneventful teatime, some so happened to be placed in extraordinary situations. Until recently there had only been one such hobbit with this 'predicament' on the ship.
Never in all his years would he have imagined to reunite with Bilbo Baggins, esteemed kin and perhaps most dearest to him of all the great splendors of the world he'd seen at home. It had not always been terrible. There had once been light and more hope to be held in his hands alone, once. But it seemed whatever road Bilbo Baggins continued to walk was somewhere Frodo could not follow now. He came from an earlier time, a time of legends, in all aspects. How greatly the journey he undertook would change his young nephew's life. How much he had done simply by being his dear, scatterbrained, eccentric 'Uncle'. Let alone members of his own company when he took his own journey, Fili and Kili of all things! Not to mention the Elvenking..so much wonder he hadn't expected to find save in books.
In a way it was a gift, of sorts.
Yet with it came burdens, as most things now seemed to visit the younger Baggins. A grim thought often plagued his mind. Of a golden, shiny nature, much like the description that never left his neck even in sleep.
And he wondered, wondered if he was in a point in the journey when such a thing had come to pass.
Would his Uncle have to face the grim fate Frodo had taken in his stead, if that were the case? The hobbit didn't want to know. Granted his energy had to be used sparingly, ( he needed all the spirit still left in him to fight a deeper danger than this ship's fabrications ), Frodo still knew better than to be idle in his room, pouring over books he'd already read.
In fact it might be time for a visit to the library, returning old books and searching for new stories and customs of lands and worlds he'd not likely have a chance to visit. In a way, he was part of many worlds, granted his company, hostile or kind, and it was more than he could have asked for if he were yet a child.
But he was no child. There was no innocence left in those tired eyes, the slightly drooping frame, only a pale smile telling of what once had been, what grew fainter as each day went on.
Yet he did what a hobbit might be capable of doing granted their circumstances. He endured.
Stepping out into the hallways with a decent stack of books in his arms, the Ringbearer set himself to task. Reaching the library, and hopefully not dropping them. His body was weaker still, but at least he could manage a stack full of books!
So you'd originally find him, wandering the halls, headed towards a certain section of the ship that had become as much a haven as the greenery of the Oxygen Gardens. It was no Shire, and the library was no Hobbit Hole but it held the slightest shadow of what once was, and it was enough to remind him. Make him remember.
And for a time, make him forget.
Unassuming with his stack of books, quite possibly covering his head, the child-sized person set them down on one of the nearby tables, releasing a quiet breath. That took more energy than he'd expected, and he knew the reason why. Knew it like the chain that dug into his skin, the very thing that dangled from it ever whispering, ever haunting and harming him in both sleep and waking hours.
He'd best find a book, and soon. Absentmindedly he wondered if he couldn't find something for his young Uncle, as well.
the library!
When Ryan spends his time alone in his room, he thinks. He thinks about home, and how much he would like to take a long, hot shower, then strip down to his boxers and sleep in his own bed for about two years. And then he thinks about how he'd play with Wilfred for hours outside. Just playing tennis. Catching a frisbee. Then maybe he'd go inside and let Wilfred hump the shit out of Bear for a bit, while he read the newspaper or watched the news. And then they'd talk and maybe smoke a little pot, then they'd watch a movie and smoke a little more...
Then he thinks to what Wilfred has done for him in the past, and what he's said. And today, a particular quote has caught his interest- Put down the bong, and pick up a book.
This little memory seems to set his entire day in stone. One, because...well. Ryan hardly left his room on a good day, and it was getting a little boring. And two, he had no bong to be smoking out of. Okay, he had a bong, but he had no smoking material. Which did him no good.
So why not go to the library and try to learn something new? As...not fun as that sounded. Especially after thinking about Wilfred and home made you severely homesick after a while.
Ryan's at the library now, shuffling through a few books here and there. And, quite frankly, none of them really catch his attention whatsoever. There were a few famous philanthropists or whatever, but he couldn't even make a page out of them. Christ. And to think he went to Stanford. He bit his lip and (rather reluctantly) picked out a few of the older books. Because why the hell not.
He flipped through the old books as he passed by a few rows of tables...and something nearby caught his eye. On one of them nearby was a tower of books, stacked up one after another. And nearby it was Frodo Baggins. Oh yeah, he remembered him.
Ryan remembered feeling kind of weird after he last saw the little guy (and not entirely because of the fact that they looked so freakishly alike- he had returned to his dorm and wondered if he was the super secret unknown identical twin brother of Elijah Wood). There was a lot that Ryan bitched about. But seeing that hobbit sitting there and smoking a pipe and with him knowing what was going to happen from the movies and everything else...it made him think. Was life for Ryan bad? Yeah. But could it be worse.....? Yeah. Oh yeah.
...He was staring, wasn't he? Ryan diverted his attention back to his old-as-shit book, pretending to seem at least mildly interested in his new reading material.
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Still, if anything, he's a Baggins, of Bag End, after all, manners are something to be preserved, respected, so to speak. When he looks at last he finds the familiar face -- ( too familiar, really) of a man eerily similar to him. Save the fact that he was, well, a Big Person.
He hardly looks well, is his initial thought, before the same state of bewilderment passes over him like a chill. Why did this fellow have an eerie resemblance to his own face?
Now might have been the time to act like Bilbo, 'politely' ignore but it's not as if he can't feel those eyes burning holes into his back.
"Good day to you," Frodo says at last, after a thoughtful pause, a long, thoughtful stare that involved a good furrowing of the brows. Their interactions, as ever, remained, unsettling.
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As if Ryan didn't seem creepy enough to people. Just let him go ahead and be unintentionally creepy to Frodo Baggins. If he could have jumped off of a cliff, he would have right at that moment.
When the little hobbit addressed him, Ryan quickly turned his attention back to his small little collection of dusty books. Maybe if he pretended he had just looked at him for a minute, and then returned his attention back to his own business, it wouldn't have looked like he had been sneaking on the guy. But by the tone of Frodo's voice, he wasn't going to puss out so easily. Only Ryan.
"Uhh, hey." Ryan said, looking down to Frodo and giving him the shittiest of smiles. "Sorry. I'm just..." He raised the small pile of books he had in his hands. "Reading."
Because he was totally sitting there and looking through the books one page at a time.
hallways
Not too far of course, but enough that he hasn't really been along these paths. And he wouldn't have, because what use has he for a library when he could barely sit still long enough to make his way through a book? It's a relief this time though, because up ahead he spots a familiar dark haired hobbit toting about a stack of books enough to rival Ori and Kili can't help the grin that stretches across his face.
"Frodo!" Best watch out Master Hobbit, you've got an excitable young dwarrow heading your way.
hallways
Made friend.
Even in his weariness, Frodo gathers a warm, startled smile, a crinkle of blue eyes from whatever could be found from that stack of books.
"Hullo, Kili!" There's laughter in his voice, where there had been nothing but a heavy, invisible shroud moments before.
He was never more thankful for stories that breathed.
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There's something welcoming and comforting about him, and Kili relishes it.
"Here, let me help you--" He reaches forward and takes about half Frodo's stack of books, figuring that he wouldn't like to seem invalid and like this they share the small burden together. But still. That's a lot of books.
"Did you read all of these already?"
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Either way Frodo chuckles, almost wobbling on his feet but steadying himself. "Oh, thank you -- I think it's a miracle I've made it this far, actually." At the inquiry on if he read them all, there's a twinkle in those blue eyes, reminiscent to the spirited hobbit of once before.
"Well if I hadn't I don't think I'd be returning them! Yes, I have. They made quite a good read, but now I'm out of stories!"
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He can't help himself once Frodo chuckles, though. Kili looks down at the amount of books they're both carrying and then over to Frodo with eyes blown wide. (A part of him notes the sheer life shining in those bright eyes and he can't help but want to make Frodo look so cheerful forevermore.)
"All of them?" Is this a Hobbit thing? Are Hobbits innately fast readers? He doesn't know, but it's impressive nonetheless. "Surely there's more for you to read in there?"
Unless somehow Frodo had managed to read his way through the Library already, but Kili is pretty sure that's impossible. Maybe.
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"They thought him to be mad, you know. When he came home. Fiddling with maps and books as I've always known him to do. I got that from him, I think. From Bilbo.."
Frodo wasn't sure what else he might have got from him, their journeys were very different, and his was yet to be finished.
It's said wistfully, the smile remaining on his face but it's back again, that little distant flicker in his eyes that marks that perhaps he's not quite there, not fully. But most of him is.
"Mad. Did you think he was mad?" He chuckles again, shouldering his load as they walked.
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But it's still hard for him, because Kili had never really had cause to grow up enough to handle things with care.
"Mad?" That startles a laugh out of him. "I suppose we all are, really. I mean we did go on a quest to slay a dragon, after all."