the world turned upside down
So. I wrote this piece of fanfiction early Sunday morning. Only, it's not RPS. It's... sort of FPS. Only without the "s." No slash. No slash at all. General LOTR fanfiction. As I personally have never written this sort of thing before, I feel rather... well, naked in the dark. (And not exactly in the good way.)
I suppose this is what happens when you dedicate a day to watching the entire trilogy. As I did.
It is very simple. Very, very, very simple. But I hope some of you may read it and enjoy it.
Pipe Dream
Samwise, Peregrin and Meriadoc sat at the top of a hill overlooking a field. Down below, at the far end, a golden sapling curled sturdily out of the ground. Up above, a sea-coral sun stretched toward the horizon.
Merry drew one finger along the edge of his pipe, placed the tip between his lips and puffed out an even smoke ring.
Pippin reached forward and pretended to poke at it. But Merry did not laugh this time. And neither did Pip, though he had done so every time before.
Sam breathed in deeply and coughed, smoke and something else tickling the back of his throat.
Pippin inhaled and conjured up a vague shape. It appeared to be a bird. Only, it flew upside down. It flapped backward in the sky parallel to bands of pulled cloud.
A red robin swooped low and sliced through the smoke bird. It scattered like ghosted fireworks.
Sam cleared his throat. “This just doesn’t quite seem like the world we knew,” he said.
Merry looked down, set his pipe between his feet. “It isn’t,” he said.
Behind them, at Mr. Frodo’s home (and Bilbo’s before him), a curly head sprang from behind a perfectly round door. And Rosie called Samwise to afternoon tea.
I suppose this is what happens when you dedicate a day to watching the entire trilogy. As I did.
It is very simple. Very, very, very simple. But I hope some of you may read it and enjoy it.
Pipe Dream
Samwise, Peregrin and Meriadoc sat at the top of a hill overlooking a field. Down below, at the far end, a golden sapling curled sturdily out of the ground. Up above, a sea-coral sun stretched toward the horizon.
Merry drew one finger along the edge of his pipe, placed the tip between his lips and puffed out an even smoke ring.
Pippin reached forward and pretended to poke at it. But Merry did not laugh this time. And neither did Pip, though he had done so every time before.
Sam breathed in deeply and coughed, smoke and something else tickling the back of his throat.
Pippin inhaled and conjured up a vague shape. It appeared to be a bird. Only, it flew upside down. It flapped backward in the sky parallel to bands of pulled cloud.
A red robin swooped low and sliced through the smoke bird. It scattered like ghosted fireworks.
Sam cleared his throat. “This just doesn’t quite seem like the world we knew,” he said.
Merry looked down, set his pipe between his feet. “It isn’t,” he said.
Behind them, at Mr. Frodo’s home (and Bilbo’s before him), a curly head sprang from behind a perfectly round door. And Rosie called Samwise to afternoon tea.