For ainu-laire: Meadows of Heaven (gen, G)
Title: Meadows of Heaven
Author: Ullman (ullman79)
Pairing: None
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.
Note: Written for ainu-laire for lotr_sesa.
Aragorn watched in silence as both Merry and Pippin, mere seconds after emptying their bowls in record time, leapt to their feet and started running. He could not help but notice how Frodo’s gaze sought out Sam's over the rim of his bowl, a most hopeful expression on the young hobbit’s face.
Sam shook his head gently. "We just finished dinner, Sir. It is not wise to go about like that just now. Not wise at all," he mumbled.
"I suppose you're right, Sam," Frodo sighed with light disappointment, apparently doing his best to agree with his friend as he watched Merry chase Pippin around the field.
Ignoring the longing look Frodo cast after the two rambunctious hobbits, Aragorn's eyes observed the two remaining hobbits, only now noticing their relative quiet. Due to the utter lack of breeze their voices could not be heard from where the rest of the Fellowship was sharing an uncharacteristically peaceful dinner. He shifted a little, struggling to remember how long it had been since he had last had a calm, almost uneventful night like this.
"It is a quiet night tonight," he observed thoughtfully as he brought his bowl to his lips, frowning.
"Perhaps it will remain as such," Gandalf returned with a calm nod as he drew out his pipe.
Boromir nodded his agreement and did not manage to hold back an almost wistful sigh at the mere idea of a night’s respite from whatever new form of devilry would find them next. Aragorn’s eyes locked with Boromir's for a brief moment, sympathizing with the other man despite his own sense of foreboding, the quiet mirroring the eerie calm before yet another storm.
Gimli, apparently, could not sympathize. His voice rumbled ominously. "We would never tempt the Gods in such a manner. No good could ever come of taunting them in this way! We would not think of - "
"We - ?" Gandalf prompted innocently.
"Dwarves," Gimli clarified, the one word dripping with his characteristic pride, the sound like a crack of thunder.
"Ah," Gandalf said with sudden understanding, nodding. "Dwarves. I see. Of course, I suppose Elves would not fear such a - "
Gimli snorted, loudly. "Elves - "
Aragorn shook his head, resisting a sudden urge to roll his eyes. Boromir groaned softly.
Gandalf merely smiled, though Aragorn noticed the smallest of twinkles in the old grey-bearded wizard's eyes.
The derision in the Dwarf's voice would surely be audible even to those who lacked Elven senses, and so Aragorn was not at all surprised to look up and see Legolas silently approaching them. Nor was he at all surprised when Legolas walked past him with four hobbits now trailing along behind, flocking around him like moths to a flame.
"A quiet night you say?" murmured Boromir quietly.
"Perhaps not," replied Gandalf, his eyes now twinkling almost mischievously when Legolas came to a halt in front of Gimli, arms folded across his chest.
Aragorn could not stop a smile of his own from tugging at the corners of his mouth when Legolas started, calmly, "Dwarves - "
Gimli's nostrils flared as his chin lifted.
Aragorn's gaze met Gandalf's and he gave an almost imperceptible nod, knowing now why he had felt so out of place in the midst of all this quiet. Then Gimli's retort caused the last of whatever calm had remained to vanish into thin air.
“Perhaps not,” Aragorn agreed happily as he leaned back against the tree, welcoming the opportunity to leave his concerns for the storms that lay ahead of them in the future, instead weathering this particular form of devilry - the familiar storm that was Gimli.
END
Author: Ullman (ullman79)
Pairing: None
Rating: G
Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.
Note: Written for ainu-laire for lotr_sesa.
Aragorn watched in silence as both Merry and Pippin, mere seconds after emptying their bowls in record time, leapt to their feet and started running. He could not help but notice how Frodo’s gaze sought out Sam's over the rim of his bowl, a most hopeful expression on the young hobbit’s face.
Sam shook his head gently. "We just finished dinner, Sir. It is not wise to go about like that just now. Not wise at all," he mumbled.
"I suppose you're right, Sam," Frodo sighed with light disappointment, apparently doing his best to agree with his friend as he watched Merry chase Pippin around the field.
Ignoring the longing look Frodo cast after the two rambunctious hobbits, Aragorn's eyes observed the two remaining hobbits, only now noticing their relative quiet. Due to the utter lack of breeze their voices could not be heard from where the rest of the Fellowship was sharing an uncharacteristically peaceful dinner. He shifted a little, struggling to remember how long it had been since he had last had a calm, almost uneventful night like this.
"It is a quiet night tonight," he observed thoughtfully as he brought his bowl to his lips, frowning.
"Perhaps it will remain as such," Gandalf returned with a calm nod as he drew out his pipe.
Boromir nodded his agreement and did not manage to hold back an almost wistful sigh at the mere idea of a night’s respite from whatever new form of devilry would find them next. Aragorn’s eyes locked with Boromir's for a brief moment, sympathizing with the other man despite his own sense of foreboding, the quiet mirroring the eerie calm before yet another storm.
Gimli, apparently, could not sympathize. His voice rumbled ominously. "We would never tempt the Gods in such a manner. No good could ever come of taunting them in this way! We would not think of - "
"We - ?" Gandalf prompted innocently.
"Dwarves," Gimli clarified, the one word dripping with his characteristic pride, the sound like a crack of thunder.
"Ah," Gandalf said with sudden understanding, nodding. "Dwarves. I see. Of course, I suppose Elves would not fear such a - "
Gimli snorted, loudly. "Elves - "
Aragorn shook his head, resisting a sudden urge to roll his eyes. Boromir groaned softly.
Gandalf merely smiled, though Aragorn noticed the smallest of twinkles in the old grey-bearded wizard's eyes.
The derision in the Dwarf's voice would surely be audible even to those who lacked Elven senses, and so Aragorn was not at all surprised to look up and see Legolas silently approaching them. Nor was he at all surprised when Legolas walked past him with four hobbits now trailing along behind, flocking around him like moths to a flame.
"A quiet night you say?" murmured Boromir quietly.
"Perhaps not," replied Gandalf, his eyes now twinkling almost mischievously when Legolas came to a halt in front of Gimli, arms folded across his chest.
Aragorn could not stop a smile of his own from tugging at the corners of his mouth when Legolas started, calmly, "Dwarves - "
Gimli's nostrils flared as his chin lifted.
Aragorn's gaze met Gandalf's and he gave an almost imperceptible nod, knowing now why he had felt so out of place in the midst of all this quiet. Then Gimli's retort caused the last of whatever calm had remained to vanish into thin air.
“Perhaps not,” Aragorn agreed happily as he leaned back against the tree, welcoming the opportunity to leave his concerns for the storms that lay ahead of them in the future, instead weathering this particular form of devilry - the familiar storm that was Gimli.
END