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[personal profile] frolijahfan
I'd hoped to have come up with something shiny and new, but this week has been so busy that I've been lucky to get online at all. So all I have to offer is a slightly used (which is, after all, the definitin of a mathom, isn't it?) mathom for you.

Originally posted at the (sadly) late and (very much lamented Happy Smial.


With a sigh, Frodo replaced the pen in its holder and looked at the paper in front of him. It wasn't nearly good enough, for Sam deserved perfection at the very least, but any further efforts would only mar whatever merit he had managed to achieve. Translating the Elvish gardening text had been easy enough to mask as part of his usual paperwork, but trying to recreate the illustrations... Well, that had required reviving skills that he hadn't used since tweenhood and careful planning to coincide with the times when Sam was gone on errands. But it was finished, and just in time, since tomorrow was First Yule. Standing, he retrieved the cloth that he'd set aside for the purpose and carefully wrapped the manuscript, tying it with a bright red ribbon.
And none too soon, for he heard the front door open and close and then Sam's voice. "Frodo? I'm back."
Quickly placing the package in the bottom desk drawer and closing it quietly, Frodo called, "I'm here, Sam."
A ruddy-faced Sam entered the study, his arms full of greenery. "It's gettin' right brisk out there, it is. Wouldn't surprise me none if it was to snow by nightfall."
"Right in time for Yule. But Sam, more greens? Surely we've no need of more?" In truth, the smial had greens draped over every available surface, adorned with pine-cones and red ribbons.
"Oh, aye, we've a-plenty. But I couldn't pass this up, now could I?" Grinning, Sam pulled a large clump of mistletoe out of his armload. "Not that we really need it, mind..."
"Indeed we don't, love, but since you've brought it we might as well make sure that it works." Smiling, Frodo plucked a sprig out of the clump and placed it on Sam's golden curls. The greens dropped to the carpet, unnoticed, as Sam's arms found better things to hold and he reveled in the taste, feel, and scent that all combined to say Frodo. As they reluctantly ended the kiss, Frodo murmured, "Mmmmm. Yes, I'd have to say that that works quite well, wouldn't you, Sam?"
"That it does. But maybe we should try it again, just to be sure?" Sam's mouth moved unerringly towards Frodo's, only to stop in dismay as Frodo moved away, shaking his head.
"I'd like nothing better, dearest, but you know that we've much still to do to be ready for the morrow."
"Nobody's comin' for the fixin's, Frodo. They're comin' to see you" "--and you," Frodo interjected. "And I know that. I just want everything to be perfect for our first Yule together."
"'Twill be, me dear. Don't you fret yourself."

Later that evening, when even Frodo could think of nothing else that needed to be done, Sam entered the study, holding a small wrapped parcel. "I wanted to give you this when it was just us, love." Frodo straightened from the desk drawer, holding his own wrapped parcel. "And I you, Sam-love."
Sam's gift was an exquisitely carved pen-holder, with Frodo's name surrounded by all of his favorite flowers. "Oh, Sam, how perfectly lovely this is. Whenever did you find the time to do all this gorgeous carving?"
Sam ducked his head. "Like as not when you was finding the time to make this," holding out the manuscript. "Some o' them "errands" that I was runnin' didn't go no farther than the shed. I mind me that you used to do lots of drawin' when I was just a faunt. Whyever did you stop? These are right beautiful, they are."
"I must say, I did find the extra errands useful for getting this finished. This took longer than I’d planned-- I am woefully out of practice. But as I got older, there just seemed to be less and less time for drawing and I simply stopped doing it."
"Well, you should find the time, m'dearie. These are as fine as any that I've ever seen, and no mistake."
"You'd say that if they were the veriest scrawls, love, but thank you. Now that I have such a perfect subject,” Frodo ran loving fingers down Sam’s cheek, “I’ll have to make the time. And now I believe we've some unfinished business..." Frodo leaned forward and claimed Sam's mouth, wrapping his arms around Sam and pulling him down on the sofa. "Happy Yule, my Sam."
"And to you, Frodo-love. And to you."
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