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Drabbles on Hobbits; a Generous Bakers' Dozen
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Mayor and Mistress Gamgee


It had been a nightmare night again, and the voices in the hall were a welcome summons to the morning. Unending darkness faded to warm light through the curtains; chill rock gave way to the sweet softness of Rosie's hair. "It ain't morning," she murmured, snuggling aganist him; gently tightening his arm around her, Sam let happiness wash away horror for another moment, wishing, as he ever did, Frodo were here to share it.

Then, of course, someone began screaming, and the baby started to cry. "'Tis morning." Sam kissed the ear he whispered into; Rosie grumbled, but she also smiled.


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