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hobbit_holidaysTitle: Yule Time
Author: White Gull
Originally written for Belegcuthalion in a Hobbit_Het Secret Santa
Pairing: Sam/Rose
Rating: NC17
Summary: Sam & Rose find time for Yule.
Rose carefully lifted the new candles from the mantle, dusted each one, as well as the fine marble they sat upon, and rearranged them thoughtfully - for the third time that night. She glanced at the nearby mantle clock, then, with tongs, picked up a brand from the fire and lit the candles. She stood back to admire them, and smiled. "Yes, Elanor," she said, "our new Yule candles look fine, don't they? Won't Da like them when he comes home!"
Elanor cooed happily from her nest upon the floor at Rosie's feet and batted at the bright toys around her. Rosie glanced at the clock again. Sam should be home any minute. He'd been gone three days, on Shire business at the Great Smials, and she was ready for him to return. This was Elanor's first Yule, and he was missing it.
But she harbored no blame in her heart for the renewed way Sam had thrown himself into his responsibilities, helping Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin and others with last restorations in the Shire. This was also the first Yule Mr. Frodo was gone, and Bag End, The Hill she corrected herself, was still full of memories of him, and would be for a long time to come. But Rose was determined also to fill their home with new memories - not to take the place of Mr. Frodo, but to see that his gift of this smial to her Sam would be the blessing she was sure Mr. Frodo wanted it to be.
Rose moved to the mirror in the hall and looked anxiously at her reflection. The new red dress Sam had bought her for Yule fit perfectly. She turned first one way, then the other, and watched the skirts flare becomingly. She smoothed her hair and glanced at the clock again. The door opened.
Elanor's head turned from her bright baubles to seek the sound, and Rosie swept her up as she hurried to the door. Sam threw his arms around the both of them before the door had closed behind him. "Welcome home, love," Rosie murmured, and led him to his favorite chair. She took his cloak and settled Elanor into his lap, meeting his eyes with a gentle smile.
"Well, I'm back," he said. They were the same words he had uttered not three months before, and Rose responded with familiar words of her own.
"That you are, husband, and I am glad." She kissed his brow, and went to hang his cloak by the door. She brought a cup of tea from the kitchen as Sam silently rocked Elanor to sleep. The peaceful quiet did not seem wrong or awkward, but comforting. Minutes later, Rose carefully picked up Elanor from Sam's shoulder and carried her to bed. Still, Sam sat quietly and rocked, the soft squeaks of the chair very nearly in perfect sync with the ticking clock. Seemingly, he had noticed neither candles nor dress.
In the bedroom, Rose tucked Elanor warmly into her cradle at the foot of the bed, but she paused before leaving the room. Glancing into the mirror, she slowly unfastened her dress, stepped out of the festive garment, and wrapped her body in a soft robe. She pulled the clasp from her hair and ran her fingers through the tendrilled, golden curls. Stepping into the hall, she called softly, "Sam."
Hearing his approaching footsteps, Rosie withdrew into the room and stood beside the bed as Sam entered. Slowly, she pulled the tie of her robe, her lips curving in a smile as she watched fire rise in her husband's eyes. She was naked beneath, and the soft covering slipped easily off her shoulders and onto the floor. Sam's eyes followed its path, then, moved slowly, caressingly, back up her body.
"Welcome home," she whispered again, and in two steps Sam was beside her. He grasped her shoulders, and his lips found hers, silencing further words. She had none more to say. She parted her lips only to receive his tongue, and shivered as she felt his hands stroke her shoulders, her back, and move around her body until they reached her breasts.
This was the greatest gift she could give to her husband, the gift of herself. Together, they would fill this home with love enough to celebrate all the past memories, as well as to create new ones to add to the treasured store.
Rose moaned quietly at the velvet touch of his lips upon her nipples, and she quickly began freeing his braces and buttons. When his shirt fell to the floor her hands were already at work at his waist, loosing button after button of his breeches. Already he strained against the fabric and against her hand, and parting the corduroy, her gentle fingers slipped beneath linens to close around his hardened flesh.
Sam's hips moved against her touch, his ragged breath matching the staccato rhythm. Rosie's head lolled back, her eyes closed in delight, and she felt his lips trace lightly down her body as he sank to his knees.
She ran caressing fingers through the rough curls of his hair, bit her lip to mute the sounds of her own ecstasy. Her knees weakened, and at last, prone upon the welcoming bed, their bodies joined in a fiery, driving union of joy. A throbbing, surging wave of climactic release bore them both upon its irresistible crest, lifting them, tossing them high in matchless exhilaration, before receding to slowly drop them, bodies still bound, into an eddying pool of peace.
Rose lay in Sam's arms until her weary, but contented husband slept, then she slipped from the bed. Retrieving her robe from the floor, she blew out the lamp, and moved to the parlor to extinguish the new, dwindling candles. Tenderly, she ran her hand along the curve of the heirloom clock beside them, and minutes later slept peacefully beside her mate as the clock chimed the entrance of a new year.
Author: White Gull
Originally written for Belegcuthalion in a Hobbit_Het Secret Santa
Pairing: Sam/Rose
Rating: NC17
Summary: Sam & Rose find time for Yule.
Rose carefully lifted the new candles from the mantle, dusted each one, as well as the fine marble they sat upon, and rearranged them thoughtfully - for the third time that night. She glanced at the nearby mantle clock, then, with tongs, picked up a brand from the fire and lit the candles. She stood back to admire them, and smiled. "Yes, Elanor," she said, "our new Yule candles look fine, don't they? Won't Da like them when he comes home!"
Elanor cooed happily from her nest upon the floor at Rosie's feet and batted at the bright toys around her. Rosie glanced at the clock again. Sam should be home any minute. He'd been gone three days, on Shire business at the Great Smials, and she was ready for him to return. This was Elanor's first Yule, and he was missing it.
But she harbored no blame in her heart for the renewed way Sam had thrown himself into his responsibilities, helping Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin and others with last restorations in the Shire. This was also the first Yule Mr. Frodo was gone, and Bag End, The Hill she corrected herself, was still full of memories of him, and would be for a long time to come. But Rose was determined also to fill their home with new memories - not to take the place of Mr. Frodo, but to see that his gift of this smial to her Sam would be the blessing she was sure Mr. Frodo wanted it to be.
Rose moved to the mirror in the hall and looked anxiously at her reflection. The new red dress Sam had bought her for Yule fit perfectly. She turned first one way, then the other, and watched the skirts flare becomingly. She smoothed her hair and glanced at the clock again. The door opened.
Elanor's head turned from her bright baubles to seek the sound, and Rosie swept her up as she hurried to the door. Sam threw his arms around the both of them before the door had closed behind him. "Welcome home, love," Rosie murmured, and led him to his favorite chair. She took his cloak and settled Elanor into his lap, meeting his eyes with a gentle smile.
"Well, I'm back," he said. They were the same words he had uttered not three months before, and Rose responded with familiar words of her own.
"That you are, husband, and I am glad." She kissed his brow, and went to hang his cloak by the door. She brought a cup of tea from the kitchen as Sam silently rocked Elanor to sleep. The peaceful quiet did not seem wrong or awkward, but comforting. Minutes later, Rose carefully picked up Elanor from Sam's shoulder and carried her to bed. Still, Sam sat quietly and rocked, the soft squeaks of the chair very nearly in perfect sync with the ticking clock. Seemingly, he had noticed neither candles nor dress.
In the bedroom, Rose tucked Elanor warmly into her cradle at the foot of the bed, but she paused before leaving the room. Glancing into the mirror, she slowly unfastened her dress, stepped out of the festive garment, and wrapped her body in a soft robe. She pulled the clasp from her hair and ran her fingers through the tendrilled, golden curls. Stepping into the hall, she called softly, "Sam."
Hearing his approaching footsteps, Rosie withdrew into the room and stood beside the bed as Sam entered. Slowly, she pulled the tie of her robe, her lips curving in a smile as she watched fire rise in her husband's eyes. She was naked beneath, and the soft covering slipped easily off her shoulders and onto the floor. Sam's eyes followed its path, then, moved slowly, caressingly, back up her body.
"Welcome home," she whispered again, and in two steps Sam was beside her. He grasped her shoulders, and his lips found hers, silencing further words. She had none more to say. She parted her lips only to receive his tongue, and shivered as she felt his hands stroke her shoulders, her back, and move around her body until they reached her breasts.
This was the greatest gift she could give to her husband, the gift of herself. Together, they would fill this home with love enough to celebrate all the past memories, as well as to create new ones to add to the treasured store.
Rose moaned quietly at the velvet touch of his lips upon her nipples, and she quickly began freeing his braces and buttons. When his shirt fell to the floor her hands were already at work at his waist, loosing button after button of his breeches. Already he strained against the fabric and against her hand, and parting the corduroy, her gentle fingers slipped beneath linens to close around his hardened flesh.
Sam's hips moved against her touch, his ragged breath matching the staccato rhythm. Rosie's head lolled back, her eyes closed in delight, and she felt his lips trace lightly down her body as he sank to his knees.
She ran caressing fingers through the rough curls of his hair, bit her lip to mute the sounds of her own ecstasy. Her knees weakened, and at last, prone upon the welcoming bed, their bodies joined in a fiery, driving union of joy. A throbbing, surging wave of climactic release bore them both upon its irresistible crest, lifting them, tossing them high in matchless exhilaration, before receding to slowly drop them, bodies still bound, into an eddying pool of peace.
Rose lay in Sam's arms until her weary, but contented husband slept, then she slipped from the bed. Retrieving her robe from the floor, she blew out the lamp, and moved to the parlor to extinguish the new, dwindling candles. Tenderly, she ran her hand along the curve of the heirloom clock beside them, and minutes later slept peacefully beside her mate as the clock chimed the entrance of a new year.
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-02 03:20 pm (UTC)What a beautiful love story.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-02 11:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-02 11:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-03 03:14 pm (UTC)