Measure for Measure; or, Pippin the Irredeemable
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
947
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
10
Views:
947
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Part V
Frodo had insisted that Sam and Rosie take the master bedroom – and, she had to admit, it was a fine choice for them. There was room enough for them both on the bed, and for a crib by the door when a child was born, as well as the dressing table and the cabinets. Sam felt guilty about it, she knew, but had consented under Frodo's insistence.
He lay on his belly now, as Rosie kneaded the knots out of his back. She wanted to touch him all the time, but now with this afternoon still so fresh between them she was afraid to do so without a good reason. She hated that she was. Still, she didn't say a word. Guilt worked like that, sometimes.
Sam sighed, and turned, and pressed his fingertips lightly on her bare arms. Rosie loved the shape of his eyes, still visible under the deepening shadow of his brow.
"It's all right, Rosie," he said after a while.
"I'm not tired yet—"
"About Mr. Pippin."
She looked down, the moonlight drawing strange shadows across his chest.
"He's like that, I know. If he wants a thing, you'll want it as well—"
She kissed him, hard, possessive, brimming with rage and grief.
He lay on his belly now, as Rosie kneaded the knots out of his back. She wanted to touch him all the time, but now with this afternoon still so fresh between them she was afraid to do so without a good reason. She hated that she was. Still, she didn't say a word. Guilt worked like that, sometimes.
Sam sighed, and turned, and pressed his fingertips lightly on her bare arms. Rosie loved the shape of his eyes, still visible under the deepening shadow of his brow.
"It's all right, Rosie," he said after a while.
"I'm not tired yet—"
"About Mr. Pippin."
She looked down, the moonlight drawing strange shadows across his chest.
"He's like that, I know. If he wants a thing, you'll want it as well—"
She kissed him, hard, possessive, brimming with rage and grief.