rosa_cotton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rosa_cotton) wrote2006-11-03 03:45 pm
rosa_cotton) wrote2006-11-03 03:45 pm
Entry tags:
LotR fic
Title: Newborn Love
Rating: G (K)
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate.
Summary: Following a time of flurry, two little hobbits are gently, quietly shown the reason for the fuss. (Birthday present for Aemilia Rose.)
~~~
“Tom,” Mr. Cotton said softly, poking his head into his son’s room as he opened the door.
Tom and his friend Samwise Gamgee looked up from their toys. Mr. Cotton appeared drained, but there was a wondrous glow in his eyes, and his tired face was flushed. Both lads scrambled to their feet. Tom moved as quickly as he could with his short legs to his papa’s side.
“Mama?” the five-year-old asked.
Mr. Cotton’s face broke out into a smile. “Come and see,” he said, offering his hand. Then he looked back at Samwise who stood in the middle of the room uncertainly. “You may come as well, Samwise,” the hobbit invited with a kind smile.
The four-year-old trotted over to the hobbits and followed them out the door.
Samwise and Tom, each holding one of Mr. Cotton’s large, strong hands, noticed how quiet the hobbit hole was now. Earlier, when they had been shooed away to Tom’s room, they had heard the rushing back and forth of hobbitesses in the hall through the closed door, calling for items and asking questions. Though not completely understanding what was happening, the lads had sensed an unfamiliar urgency in the place. Now there was no rushing or noise, but a simple, peaceful hush.
Mr. Cotton led the two to his and his wife’s bedroom. The door was open and the room brightly lit. Two hobbitesses, their arms filled with various items, nodded to the older hobbit as they left the room. Slowly Mr. Cotton, Tom, and Sam moved towards the bed.
Mrs. Cotton, looking small and exhausted, her hair plastered against her damp forehead, lay in bed, propped up by pillows, her eyes closed. A small white wrapped bundle she held to her chest with one arm; her other hand rested on top of the covers.
Tom withdrew his hand from his papa’s and stepped closer to the bed, his brow furrowed. “Mama?” he said in a near whisper.
Mrs. Cotton’s eyes opened slowly. Tired, pained, joyful, they brightened as they focused on her son. “Dear Tom,” she said in a low tone, smiling when he laid his hand on hers. She moved her gaze to her husband and the watching lad at his side.
“Sam.”
Silently the lad moved to stand beside Tom and gazed at Mrs. Cotton with large blue eyes. Sam and Tom both jumped when the bundle she held moved as though kicked and it made a sound neither boy could identify.
Eyes wide with surprise and curiosity, they watched a joyous smile light Mrs. Cotton’s whole face. Carefully she lifted the bundle in her arms so the lads could see. Rising on their tiptoes, Sam and Tom discovered a tiny pink face peering at them from the folds of white cloth. A fuzzy little patch of light brown hair was on top of the smooth head. A pair of soft brown eyes blinked at the lads. Plump cheeks dimpled as the baby gave them a toothless smile and made a sound of greeting.
“Tom, this is your new sister, Rosie,” Mr. Cotton said, standing behind the lads and smiling lovingly, tenderly on his daughter and wife.
“Rosie, this is your brother, Tom, and his very good friend, Sam Gamgee,” Mrs. Cotton made the introductions.
Carefully, the lads climbed onto the edge of the bed for a better look at Rosie. She kicked the blanket and cooed when they came closer.
“Hello, Rosie,” Tom said. He extended his hand to her. A tiny fist worked its way out of her warm, protective blanket. Rosie smiled as she knocked her fist against his knuckles.
“Hey!” he laughed, drawing back his hand.
“Now, young lady, be polite,” Mrs. Cotton said, kissing Rosie’s head.
Sam had watched the baby with amazed awe. Now he shyly offered her his hand. Tiny fingers instantly took possession of his little index finger. Rosie tugged on her new plaything, gurgling happily.
“She likes you!” Tom exclaimed, delighted.
“Aye, I think she does,” his mama agreed.
Sam looked surprised, then pleased. “I like her, too,” he said softly. He smiled at Rosie and laughed when she tried to suck his finger. He liked her very well, indeed.
THE END
Rating: G (K)
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien's estate.
Summary: Following a time of flurry, two little hobbits are gently, quietly shown the reason for the fuss. (Birthday present for Aemilia Rose.)
~~~
“Tom,” Mr. Cotton said softly, poking his head into his son’s room as he opened the door.
Tom and his friend Samwise Gamgee looked up from their toys. Mr. Cotton appeared drained, but there was a wondrous glow in his eyes, and his tired face was flushed. Both lads scrambled to their feet. Tom moved as quickly as he could with his short legs to his papa’s side.
“Mama?” the five-year-old asked.
Mr. Cotton’s face broke out into a smile. “Come and see,” he said, offering his hand. Then he looked back at Samwise who stood in the middle of the room uncertainly. “You may come as well, Samwise,” the hobbit invited with a kind smile.
The four-year-old trotted over to the hobbits and followed them out the door.
Samwise and Tom, each holding one of Mr. Cotton’s large, strong hands, noticed how quiet the hobbit hole was now. Earlier, when they had been shooed away to Tom’s room, they had heard the rushing back and forth of hobbitesses in the hall through the closed door, calling for items and asking questions. Though not completely understanding what was happening, the lads had sensed an unfamiliar urgency in the place. Now there was no rushing or noise, but a simple, peaceful hush.
Mr. Cotton led the two to his and his wife’s bedroom. The door was open and the room brightly lit. Two hobbitesses, their arms filled with various items, nodded to the older hobbit as they left the room. Slowly Mr. Cotton, Tom, and Sam moved towards the bed.
Mrs. Cotton, looking small and exhausted, her hair plastered against her damp forehead, lay in bed, propped up by pillows, her eyes closed. A small white wrapped bundle she held to her chest with one arm; her other hand rested on top of the covers.
Tom withdrew his hand from his papa’s and stepped closer to the bed, his brow furrowed. “Mama?” he said in a near whisper.
Mrs. Cotton’s eyes opened slowly. Tired, pained, joyful, they brightened as they focused on her son. “Dear Tom,” she said in a low tone, smiling when he laid his hand on hers. She moved her gaze to her husband and the watching lad at his side.
“Sam.”
Silently the lad moved to stand beside Tom and gazed at Mrs. Cotton with large blue eyes. Sam and Tom both jumped when the bundle she held moved as though kicked and it made a sound neither boy could identify.
Eyes wide with surprise and curiosity, they watched a joyous smile light Mrs. Cotton’s whole face. Carefully she lifted the bundle in her arms so the lads could see. Rising on their tiptoes, Sam and Tom discovered a tiny pink face peering at them from the folds of white cloth. A fuzzy little patch of light brown hair was on top of the smooth head. A pair of soft brown eyes blinked at the lads. Plump cheeks dimpled as the baby gave them a toothless smile and made a sound of greeting.
“Tom, this is your new sister, Rosie,” Mr. Cotton said, standing behind the lads and smiling lovingly, tenderly on his daughter and wife.
“Rosie, this is your brother, Tom, and his very good friend, Sam Gamgee,” Mrs. Cotton made the introductions.
Carefully, the lads climbed onto the edge of the bed for a better look at Rosie. She kicked the blanket and cooed when they came closer.
“Hello, Rosie,” Tom said. He extended his hand to her. A tiny fist worked its way out of her warm, protective blanket. Rosie smiled as she knocked her fist against his knuckles.
“Hey!” he laughed, drawing back his hand.
“Now, young lady, be polite,” Mrs. Cotton said, kissing Rosie’s head.
Sam had watched the baby with amazed awe. Now he shyly offered her his hand. Tiny fingers instantly took possession of his little index finger. Rosie tugged on her new plaything, gurgling happily.
“She likes you!” Tom exclaimed, delighted.
“Aye, I think she does,” his mama agreed.
Sam looked surprised, then pleased. “I like her, too,” he said softly. He smiled at Rosie and laughed when she tried to suck his finger. He liked her very well, indeed.
THE END