frodo baggins (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wheeloffire) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2014-06-16 02:13 am
wheeloffire) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-06-16 02:13 am
Entry tags:
of loved ones lost
CHARACTERS: frodo baggins & you!
LOCATION: o2 gardens of course
WARNINGS: nah
SUMMARY: frodo's dreams make him homesick...
NOTES: n/a
Frodo didn't know what to feel of this.
Sleep was finally, finally starting to return; the very moment he felt fatigued, he fell asleep for what seemed like ages. It was a good, hard sleep that he had been in need of. Losing Merry, and the Ring and Sauron and being so far away from home was more taxing on him by the day. Frodo just wanted to return home, to be with his kin in the Shire and read a book on the hills. That's all he wanted, and no matter what, he was never in sight of it.
There was something that was slowly starting to come back to him, though...
As his sleep returned, Frodo would have the oddest of dreams. He would see Samwise standing before him, laughing and carrying on just like the days before the Quest. Sam would look so silly, and carefree. He looked happy, just like a normal hobbit his age should feel.
It would be wonderful to see Sam like that. But then, his friend would talk about returning home. It was almost like the Sam in his dreams had completely forgotten about the Quest, and Gandalf and the Ring. A part of him was sad thinking about this; they were the best of friends, yet Sam couldn't remember half of what they've gone through together. But at the same time, there were many things that he shouldn't remember. There were a lot of things that a hobbit shouldn't see, yet they have.
The more he saw Sam in his dreams, the more Frodo wanted to leave. To drop the Ring, and just go home...
When his thoughts wouldn't silence themselves, Frodo made his way to the Oxygen Gardens. There was no other place on the ship that made him feel more comfortable. He sighed, kneeling by a patch of lovely red flowers. There were so many things that were disturbing him anymore. Not a day went by where his head wasn't muddled.
What was Sam doing at home? Was he okay? Not even his dreams could tell Frodo that.
What was Frodo to do?
LOCATION: o2 gardens of course
WARNINGS: nah
SUMMARY: frodo's dreams make him homesick...
NOTES: n/a
Frodo didn't know what to feel of this.
Sleep was finally, finally starting to return; the very moment he felt fatigued, he fell asleep for what seemed like ages. It was a good, hard sleep that he had been in need of. Losing Merry, and the Ring and Sauron and being so far away from home was more taxing on him by the day. Frodo just wanted to return home, to be with his kin in the Shire and read a book on the hills. That's all he wanted, and no matter what, he was never in sight of it.
There was something that was slowly starting to come back to him, though...
As his sleep returned, Frodo would have the oddest of dreams. He would see Samwise standing before him, laughing and carrying on just like the days before the Quest. Sam would look so silly, and carefree. He looked happy, just like a normal hobbit his age should feel.
It would be wonderful to see Sam like that. But then, his friend would talk about returning home. It was almost like the Sam in his dreams had completely forgotten about the Quest, and Gandalf and the Ring. A part of him was sad thinking about this; they were the best of friends, yet Sam couldn't remember half of what they've gone through together. But at the same time, there were many things that he shouldn't remember. There were a lot of things that a hobbit shouldn't see, yet they have.
The more he saw Sam in his dreams, the more Frodo wanted to leave. To drop the Ring, and just go home...
When his thoughts wouldn't silence themselves, Frodo made his way to the Oxygen Gardens. There was no other place on the ship that made him feel more comfortable. He sighed, kneeling by a patch of lovely red flowers. There were so many things that were disturbing him anymore. Not a day went by where his head wasn't muddled.
What was Sam doing at home? Was he okay? Not even his dreams could tell Frodo that.
What was Frodo to do?
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"Excuse me," Frodo looked up to her. "May I sit here with you?"
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If you wish.
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Frodo looked over to her. She seemed so...sad. Was she feeling like he was now? "Are you well, miss?"
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Frodo looked down to his feet at the question. That was a good question, indeed. "I do not know, I am afraid."
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He's not going to talk about himself until you answer, miss.
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She replies as though this is a simple fact.
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"What has made you think such a thing?"
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"Experience."
However she will pause then continue.
"What I feel, or think isn't supposed to matter. At least before I came here it didn't.
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What would he have thought of this? He had died on a sea voyage. The idea of a voyage in the stars, in a ship like a floating palace, would have stretched his imagination even more than it did Elsa's, even though he also had experience with trolls and magic. He would have compared it to heaven, but she has seen enough to know that this couldn't be heaven -- if anything, it seems purgatorial. If he were here, she's sure he would join the people who have made leaders of themselves; he would be calm and firm and reassuring.
It had taken her some time to come to terms with his death, and for a while, she had been angry with him and with her mother, for all the burdens they had left her with and for leaving her at all. Now she misses them both terribly.
Her reverie is interrupted when she realizes that she's not alone in this part of the oxygen gardens. A small man, apparently a youth, is in the path ahead, kneeling by a patch of flowers. She can tell that the flowers aren't crocuses, but she's not sure what they are.
"Hello," she essays, and can hear how uncertain she sounds, so she both smiles and makes sure that there's more strength in her low, dry voice before she continues to speak. "It's lovely here, isn't it? I brought one of these." She hefts the small reader that she carries tucked under one arm.
omg elsa is precious
There was something very...elegant about her. She wasn't an elf; she didn't have the ears (there were other ways he could tell, but that's what he saw...)! But she looked lovely! Her eyes were kind and gentle. She looked like she was confident in herself, but at the same time, not arrogant.
He doesn't even notice the uncertainty in her voice. Instead, he smiles. "It is. It is the only thing that reminds me of my home." Which wasn't a lie. Then again, he was confident that everyone could agree with him on this matter.
Frodo nodded his head respectfully, motioning to the spot next to him. "Would you like to sit with me?"
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There are parts of Arendelle that look a little like this in summer, but it's been a long time since she's seen them in that state. She'd spent so many years in the castle, then when she'd left, she had made it winter.
"My home isn't anything like the rest of this ship, either. Where are you from?"
If it was like this, maybe he lived in a wilderness. That might imply useful skills, but he looked rather delicate... except for his large, hairy feet.
Strange, but it's not polite to stare.
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This lady had an important air to her, but at the same time she was gentle, and kind. She was a little mysterious, in a way. Mysterious, but not intimidating, no! Not even close to that! He didn't even notice the fact that she may or may not have been staring at his feet. That was okay if she was, though. It certainly wouldn't be the first or last time!
"I'm from a place called The Shire." It was sad, but he was used to people not knowing where the Shire was. He didn't know where anyone else lived, right? "It was a beautiful, green land. There were hills as far as the eye could see. That was my home..." A home he missed all too much.
Frodo broke off then, and looked up to the lady. "And what of you?"
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They'd be preparing for the harvest, and wondering where the queen had run off to this time. Maybe they would have gone looking for her; maybe they would think that she had deserted them. This fear had come up persistently in the months that she'd been on the ship.
It would be bad manners to fall into a reverie in the middle of a conversation, she realizes.
"The Shire sounds lovely. What did you do there?"
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He listened quietly, nodding along to her description. It sounded so peaceful...if he could shut his eyes, he could see it clearly. There were so many mountains with forests, and when the mornings were right, you could see the fog lifting off of them. And the farms! There were so many of those in the Shire.
How different was her home compared to his?
When she mentioned the Shire again, his smile faded a bit. He looked down to his toes. "I lived with my uncle. His name was Bilbo Baggins." Frodo looked up to her. "We didn't do all that much there, but that's how it was in the Shire. You did a few chores, planted a flower or two, and then you'd go to the Green Dragon for some ale." He smiled, though it was small. "The Shire was a wonderful place to be."
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Wordless, she sat down beside him, reaching out to touch the flowers before speaking. "They are lovely, are they not? Everything has seemed to grow more swiftly since Lúthien arrived."
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"I remember when I first came here. Lúthien was the first elf I met, then. She was planting these flowers." He looked down, and gave a little sigh. "They have been a great comfort to me since."
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