windemere | Birthday fic

Thank you all for the birthday wishes. They have made it better.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

AN: In true hobbit fashion…::stops:: ::ponders:: ::shrugs::…here is my present to all of you on this, my birthday. Please enjoy.

Summary: Sam has a special encounter in Rivendell and gains some insight into the Eldar. Guest staring Bill the Pony and Asfaloth.

Sam was still amazed by it all. It was so much more than any hobbit could dream of, and yet, he’d done exactly that. Wondering, time and again, what it would be like to meet elves, to see where they lived. But he had never imagined this.

They had been there a week already, and yet Sam knew he had seen only a small fraction of the whole city that was Rivendell. Masters Merry and Pippin and been out to explore almost as soon as they knew Frodo would recover. But Sam had been loath to leave his Master’s side. Frodo was steal weak and tired, and might need him at any time. So Sam had spent that last few days since the Council trailing after Frodo and Bilbo as they wandered through the gardens and listening to Bilbo regal them with tales of life in Rivendell. So Sam thought he knew rather a lot about this wondrous place, but he hadn’t actually encountered much of it.

The elves, for the most part, seem to ignore them. He supposed they were used to having Bilbo around, and realized that hobbits were quite content to be left to their own devices.

But that rather left Sam with a problem. Frodo had awoken that morning and decided over breakfast that Sam needed to spend some time by himself, and that he would be quite alright to spend the day alone with Bilbo without a shadow. Merry and Pippin had scrambled off before Sam had even finished eating, and so left to himself with no one to talk to in a strange place, Sam did the only logical thing.

He went to visit his dear friend Bill.

It wasn’t difficult to find the stables. All he had to do was ask the first elf he passed the right direction, and the elf kindly showed him to the right door that lead across the courtyard to the stables that housed the elves’ horses.

The building seemed to be deserted, so Sam took a bit of time to wander down the rows of stalls admiring the beautiful mares and stallions the elves kept. Some of them were the blackest black Sam had ever seen, for ponies of the Shire tending to be varying shades of brown. At the very far end he found Bill.

The pony whickered a greeting and tried to reach his head over the stall door, but he was much to short to manage. Smiling, Sam reached up and managed to unbolt the lock so he could slip inside and greet Bill properly. He had swiped a few apples from breakfast, and Bill eagerly devoured this wonderful treat.

Sam glanced around and happily noted that the pony seemed to be well looked after. There was plenty of fresh hay, and the feed trough had obviously been filled that morning. Bill was practically glowing from good care and treatment and a well deserved rest.

“Well, boy, we’ve come a long way, and no mistake. Hardly believe we made it, myself. Doesn’t look to be over yet, either. Mr. Frodo says we must go on, my dear, so go we will. Don’t suppose they’ll let me take you with us? Be an awful long way for a pony to go.” He paused and reached up to stroke Bill’s mane. “Awful long way for a hobbit too,” he added.

Voices at the stable entrance caught his attention and Sam peered out around the stall door. It was hard too see; the stable was dim, and the sunlight streaming in from the door was very bright, backlighting everything in front of it. But Sam could just make out two figures standing at the door. Just then one of them disappeared, and the other began to make their way down the rows of stalls, getting closer and closer to Sam.

He had no idea what made him do it, but suddenly hiding sounded like the best thing to do. Quickly he pulled the stall door fully closed; thankful it made no sound, and crept into the shadows nearby. Bill looked at him with an expression that clearly read ‘I don’t understand two-leggers’ and turn back to munching a mouthful of feed.

Sam could only barely make out soft footfalls. It was an elf of course, and they walked silently, but hobbits could walk silently too, and Sam’s hearing was better than most. The figure paused in the stall across from Bill’s, and Sam heard a whicker of greeting from the horse within.

A stream of incomprehensible, but beautiful, elvish followed, and Sam’s breath caught. Why did they sound like they were singing all the time, even when they were saying the most plain and simple things? It was a wonder, to be sure.

He heard the door being opened to the stall, and the sounds of the horse inside being led out. Bill had lost interest in his food, and was now trying to crane his neck over the stall door once more, making soft grunts towards the other animal.

Sam’s curiosity got the better of him. He scrambled up onto a wooden crate that was sitting just inside Bill’s stall, and leaned around to see over the door. He could make it, but just barely.

And there was the wondrous white horse that Mr. Frodo had ridden, and the golden-haired elf that he belonged to. The elf was taking down the reigns from a hook nearby. Just then, as the elf’s attention was diverged towards the tack, the horse, who’s name Sam couldn’t rightly recall, but he was certain it started with an ‘a’, turned towards Bill and snorted. The elf turned around to see what had caused it, and smiled as he saw Bill trying to poke his head over the boards that restrained him. And then the elf’s sharp eyes settled on Sam’s, just visible in the gloom of the barn.

“Well, well, Master Samwise. What brings you here?”

Sam gave a startled cry of surprised and disappeared from view. A moment later he was pushing the stall door open, and peeking out.

“So—sorry sir. I was just visiting Bill, was all. Thought he might be…lonely. Didn’t mean to bother! I’ll be going!” Sam pushed the door shut quickly and reached to secure the lock. But that was as far as he got.

“You need not be afraid of me Samwise. And you are free to come and go as you please, as Elrond, I know, has told you. I was just going to take Asfaloth out for a run. Would you care to come?”

This was too much for dear Sam. He stood there, staring up at the elven lord, and gapped.

Glorfindel smiled kindly, and resumed arraying his horse. As he tied the last strap he turned back to Sam once more and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well, Master Samwise? I am offering a chance not many get, besides your Master and a few others.”

Sam gulped, and then plucked up his courage…what little of it there was. “Oh yes, sir, right, sir! Be honoured, sir!”

“Good. Up you go, Master Hobbit,” the elf said and reached down to lift Sam with ease up onto the white horse’s back. Asfaloth seemed not at all bothered by a strange rider, and Sam repeated to himself again and again that this horse had born Frodo to safety.

Glorfindel tugged on the reigns and Asfaloth eagerly followed him down the stalls to the door. Once through, Glorfindel saluted the elf that stood waiting outside; the one Sam realized he had saw earlier, and mounted in once graceful leap. Sam clutched at the mane in front of him with a death grip.

“He will not let you fall, and either will I, I assure you, Samwise.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, but didn’t sound all that convinced. Sam was rather fond of having two feet firmly on the ground.

But very soon, as Asfaloth cleared the courtyard to the dirt paths beyond and found his stride, Sam forgot about being afraid. It was wonderful to be moving so fast, and yet not feel like he was moving at all.

Asfaloth gave a neigh of joy at being able to run free, and Glorfindel responded with a laugh of equal joy.

And Sam realized that maybe these elves weren’t so different from hobbits after all. They enjoyed the shear pleasure of life and the world that was around them.

It was something to think about, at least: later.