LOTR: Samwise Gamgee: 041. Shapes
Title: The Measure of a Man
Fandom: LOTR
Character: Samwise Gamgee
Prompt: Shapes
Word Count: 320
Rating: G
Samwise was determined to remain awake, weary though he was from the day's journey into wild country. Curled up beneath his travel cloak, he pinched himself whenever he thought he might be drifting off to sleep. Instead he kept his eyes all but shut and watched the dark through his lashes.
There was no moon to light the camp and so he could barely see the outline that was Frodo sitting a stone's throw away. A taller shape sat beside his Master, the dark head bent forward and speaking in soft tones that carried no words to Sam's straining ears.
What's he saying to Mister Frodo, I wonder?
If the truth were told, he didn't completely trust this Strider, for all that the Ranger had claimed to be a friend of Gandalf's. How did they know he was leading them toward Rivendell and not into the black heart of Mordor?
A chill wind swept through the camp and tugged at his makeshift blanket, as if to admonish him for such a thought. Yet Sam hung onto both as stubbornly as any mule. Merry and Pippin seemed happy enough with the Ranger's company, and Frodo, too, for that matter.
But someone has got to keep an eye this Strider, and it might as well be me as anyone.
If the Ranger truly meant them well, then no harm done by simply watching. But if he led them false or tried to turn on Mister Frodo - well! He'd have Samwise Gamgee to settle with first!
Just don't you go and try anything, thought Sam fiercely, as if those thoughts could convey themselves to the Man from the West.
Strider's gaze flickered over Frodo's shoulder to Sam, who lay still enough but far too stiffly to be asleep. And if he offered the valiant gardener the tiniest smile of admiration, in the dark of the camp it was far too fleeting to be seen.
Fandom: LOTR
Character: Samwise Gamgee
Prompt: Shapes
Word Count: 320
Rating: G
Samwise was determined to remain awake, weary though he was from the day's journey into wild country. Curled up beneath his travel cloak, he pinched himself whenever he thought he might be drifting off to sleep. Instead he kept his eyes all but shut and watched the dark through his lashes.
There was no moon to light the camp and so he could barely see the outline that was Frodo sitting a stone's throw away. A taller shape sat beside his Master, the dark head bent forward and speaking in soft tones that carried no words to Sam's straining ears.
What's he saying to Mister Frodo, I wonder?
If the truth were told, he didn't completely trust this Strider, for all that the Ranger had claimed to be a friend of Gandalf's. How did they know he was leading them toward Rivendell and not into the black heart of Mordor?
A chill wind swept through the camp and tugged at his makeshift blanket, as if to admonish him for such a thought. Yet Sam hung onto both as stubbornly as any mule. Merry and Pippin seemed happy enough with the Ranger's company, and Frodo, too, for that matter.
But someone has got to keep an eye this Strider, and it might as well be me as anyone.
If the Ranger truly meant them well, then no harm done by simply watching. But if he led them false or tried to turn on Mister Frodo - well! He'd have Samwise Gamgee to settle with first!
Just don't you go and try anything, thought Sam fiercely, as if those thoughts could convey themselves to the Man from the West.
Strider's gaze flickered over Frodo's shoulder to Sam, who lay still enough but far too stiffly to be asleep. And if he offered the valiant gardener the tiniest smile of admiration, in the dark of the camp it was far too fleeting to be seen.