FIC: The Eye (LotR)
Title: The Eye
Author: Galadriel (caras_galadhon)
Fandom: LotR
Pairing: Frodo/Sam
Rating: G
Archive: Lothlorien.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: I have a vivid fantasy life, but I do not pretend to be JRR Tolkien, nor do I pretend to own his characters.
Summary: The reaction to Sam's carefully crafted costume was not all he'd hoped for.
Notes: For Halloween, I wrote ficlets for people who "knocked" on my virtual!door. (Final total: 12.) estelanui, my third visitor, arrived very creatively dressed as a rather Hobbitty vision of The Eye. Originally posted in the thread available here, this is a cleaned up and slightly expanded version.
The Eye
By Galadriel
Sam had been certain that his costume would be the hit of the party. He had worked so very hard on it, acquiring just the right shades of angry red, stinging orange and jaundiced yellow. He was especially proud of how he'd used shards of mirror to give it a touch of glittering reflection. The only parts of himself not covered were his feet, but there was nothing that could be done about it, and he elected to neglect that tiny detail, reasoning that it'd give him the right balance of scary and silly while still allowing him to maintain his own balance.
But after even the oldest of the children had run at the sight of him, he began to rethink the wisdom of his choice; a shame, as he'd worked so hard on it, too.
He trudged back up to Bag End, leaving the party still in full swing, desolate in defeat. Yet as he approached, the door swung open, and a large, yet familiar lump of black sheeting with hastily-cut eyeholes stepped into his path.
For one long, silent moment, Sam mourned the death of the second guest bedroom's best sheets.
The weight of his own costume become an unbearable burden, Sam finally untangled his tongue and murmured sadly, "Ghosts aren't usually black, Mr. Frodo."
"I'm not a ghost." The words were muffled, but tinged with amusement. Frodo reached for Sam, his arms rising as two cloaked bumps to catch hold of the edges of Sam's outfit, clumsily drawing him close. "I'm Barad-dûr, and as luck would have it, I'm in need of my very own Eye."
END
(November 1, 2007; November 15, 2007)
Crossposted to athelingas, lotr_fanfiction.
Author: Galadriel (caras_galadhon)
Fandom: LotR
Pairing: Frodo/Sam
Rating: G
Archive: Lothlorien.
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Disclaimer: I have a vivid fantasy life, but I do not pretend to be JRR Tolkien, nor do I pretend to own his characters.
Summary: The reaction to Sam's carefully crafted costume was not all he'd hoped for.
Notes: For Halloween, I wrote ficlets for people who "knocked" on my virtual!door. (Final total: 12.) estelanui, my third visitor, arrived very creatively dressed as a rather Hobbitty vision of The Eye. Originally posted in the thread available here, this is a cleaned up and slightly expanded version.
The Eye
By Galadriel
Sam had been certain that his costume would be the hit of the party. He had worked so very hard on it, acquiring just the right shades of angry red, stinging orange and jaundiced yellow. He was especially proud of how he'd used shards of mirror to give it a touch of glittering reflection. The only parts of himself not covered were his feet, but there was nothing that could be done about it, and he elected to neglect that tiny detail, reasoning that it'd give him the right balance of scary and silly while still allowing him to maintain his own balance.
But after even the oldest of the children had run at the sight of him, he began to rethink the wisdom of his choice; a shame, as he'd worked so hard on it, too.
He trudged back up to Bag End, leaving the party still in full swing, desolate in defeat. Yet as he approached, the door swung open, and a large, yet familiar lump of black sheeting with hastily-cut eyeholes stepped into his path.
For one long, silent moment, Sam mourned the death of the second guest bedroom's best sheets.
The weight of his own costume become an unbearable burden, Sam finally untangled his tongue and murmured sadly, "Ghosts aren't usually black, Mr. Frodo."
"I'm not a ghost." The words were muffled, but tinged with amusement. Frodo reached for Sam, his arms rising as two cloaked bumps to catch hold of the edges of Sam's outfit, clumsily drawing him close. "I'm Barad-dûr, and as luck would have it, I'm in need of my very own Eye."
END
(November 1, 2007; November 15, 2007)
Crossposted to athelingas, lotr_fanfiction.