Old Winyards

Chapter: Twelve
Pairing: Frodo/Sam
Authors: Catherine and Thuri
Rating: A
Warnings: Schmoop; a bit of language.
Summary: Breakfast in bed, and a somewhat restless Sam.

Author's note: Takes place the morning after 'Aftermath'.


Sam awoke the next day to Daisy's voice as she brought him breakfast in bed. "Daisy?" he said, muzzily. "I thought you were joking..."

"I was not," she said, very quietly but with suitable indignation. "I always keep my promises, I do, and don't you forget that, Samwise Gamgee!" She glanced over at Frodo. "How is he, Sam?”

"I don't rightly know yet, this morning."

"This looks like more'n just flu, Sam. He should be doing better, by now."

"He is doing better!" snapped Sam. "Oh... God, I'm sorry, Daisy, love; I don't know what come over me." He tried to rub sleep out of his face.

"It ain't easy watching someone you love get sick like this," said Daisy, gently. "You know that from Mum. We all do."

"I'm right worried about him, I am, Daisy. I don't know what's come over him. His fever's gone, but he's so bloody tired all the time, he hardly seems able to do anything, and I can't seem to help him, any. And I'm climbing the walls in here, an' all. I don't want to be away from him, but... Could I have some tea with you, today? Just so I can see some different walls?"

Daisy smiled and squeezed her brother's shoulder. "Of course you can, love. I'll keep our Dad away, if I have to. And... Sam, your Frodo's a good man." She kissed Sam's cheek and left the bedroom.

"Knew she liked me..." Frodo murmured softly.

Sam started, and then blanched. "How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to know you're bored," Frodo replied, shifting a little. "I don't blame you..."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry, Frodo-love. I ain't bored being with you, that ain't it at all. I just ain't used to staying inside so long, is all, and parts of me are trying to jump out of me skin. And now, I can't go anywhere because... Well, because I have to stay clear of me Dad.” He swallowed, blinking hard.

Frodo hugged him close. "Sam, I know you're not bored with me. It's all right."

Sam hugged him back. "I don't think I've kissed you, yet.” He leaned in, sliding his lips over his lover's, tongue seeking gentle entry, sinking into welcoming heat. "Maybe I just wasn't looking at you, enough. Can't possibly be bored when I'm doing that," he said huskily. "Oh... Good morning," he added, dazed.

"Morning," Frodo murmured breathlessly.

Sam sat back against the headboard, cradling Frodo against him. "Daisy brought us breakfast," he managed, losing himself in Frodo's eyes. "Didn't think she would..." He trailed off, finding Frodo's mouth again.

"Me either..."

"We should eat before it gets cold," said Sam, absently, tracing alabaster contours with his fingers.

"Don't wanna move," Frodo replied, kissing him again.

"Neither do I," said Sam, kissing him back and pulling him closer. And then, his stomach rumbled, very loudly. "Oh, Christ!" he exclaimed, looking down at his belly. "Can't you shut up for one bloody minute?"

And Frodo collapsed in helpless giggles. "I think we should listen to him. Don't want him rising up against us."

Sam dropped his head to Frodo's shoulder. "If that ain't a mood killer, I don't know what is. I'm sorry, love." He reached for the tray Daisy had brought and pulled it carefully onto the bed. "Good lord, the woman brought enough for six people! I hope to god you're hungry; I'm going to need help with this lot!"

Frodo made a bit of a face, but pulled himself up enough to reach the tray. And his eyes nearly popped out of his head. "I think she's emptied the entire pantry..."

There was a serving bowl full of eggs scrambled with chives, potatoes occupied another bowl, and toast stood in cruets (Sam winced at Daisy's penchant for the English way of systematically cooling it). Bacon was piled high on a serving plate and there was a fried tomato taking pride of place on each of the otherwise empty plates waiting to be loaded from the morning feast. Sam steadfastly ignored the large bowl of porridge and stuck it back on the chair next to the bed. "Unless you want it, of course," he offered, wanly to Frodo.

"Can I eat just it?" Frodo asked, eyes still wide. "She's never made this kind of feast for me before..."

"She never did anything like this for us, neither, unless it were for a special occasion. And do you really want just the porridge?" asked Sam, making a face.

Frodo laughed softly. "I'll probably help you with the rest, but to start... yeah. Add brown sugar and butter to it, and it's good!"

Sam handed Frodo the porridge with a grumble. He poured tea for both of them, and then loaded up a plate for himself from the feast that Daisy had given them. He was quite surprised when he cleaned it very quickly and found himself going back for seconds.

"You really might want to try this," he said through a mouthful of potatoes; "Daisy's English breakfasts are a right treat, and her fried tomatoes are the best, anywhere. Not greasy or overdone at all. You never know when she'll make any of this again, neither," he added, swallowing greedily. It had been some time since he'd eaten more than a bite or two at a time.

Frodo took up the oatmeal, blinking as he watched Sam pack away the food. "I think Daisy might not've given us enough..."

"I had no idea how hungry I was," said Sam, blushing. "I feel like I haven't eaten for days. Sorry I'm being such a pig."

"I like watching you eat," Frodo replied, grinning. "You're enjoying yourself."

"I can't remember when I was this hungry," said Sam. "I'd best slow down, soon, though." He shovelled another forkful of eggs and bacon into his mouth.

Frodo giggled again, eating his oatmeal.

When Sam came up for air, more than half the eggs were gone, and Frodo was picking at the bacon. "There's plenty for both of us, really," said Sam, a little embarrassed. "Just because I hoovered up two thirds of it don't mean I can't share, and you ain't ate proper in days."

"I'm full, though," Frodo said, shrugging a little. "I never eat breakfast anyway..."

"Well, I don't want to push you when you're full, but maybe if you ate a little something every morning, you'd feel a bit more like eating during the day. It certainly worked for May." He managed to slow himself down enough to drink his tea at a more polite rate.

"For May?'

"She stopped eating breakfast for a good while. She didn't feel hungry in the morning and was too busy at school, an' all, so she just didn't bother. Well, then she wasn't feeling too hungry the rest of the day, and ended up feeling sleepy and only eating once a day, and she didn't look too good for a while. She even started getting a bit round in the belly, for all she were only having supper at night. The doctor told her to eat in the morning, whether she felt like it or not, even if it were just cold cereal or some toast. Well, she tried it for a bit, and she started feeling hungry at more normal times and she lost her belly. Something about how eating first thing helps the metabolism to work better, and helps your brain work an' all. I don't remember everything, but it worked."

"Oh." Frodo nodded. "Then I'll eat more."

Sam laughed and squeezed his shoulders. "Just within reason, I hope. Wouldn't want you exploding, at all..." Sam swallowed another bite of potato for good effect.

Frodo laughed. "As you illustrate your point..."

"They're very good. Want one?" said Sam, though it came out more as a concatenation of vowels and mumbles.

Frodo giggled again.

"You know," said Sam, swallowing his bite to clear his speaking voice a little, "I might just have to start feeding you like a baby bird. They eat about their own weight in food every day, and mum usually sticks it in their gob."

"You're not going to chew it first, are you?" Frodo asked with a sidelong glance.

"I really hope not, but I will if I have to," said Sam, waggling his eyebrows and eying the bacon, hungrily.

"My bacon!"

"Not if I get to it first!" Sam feinted a dive for it.

And Frodo neatly snagged it out of the way, forcing an entire piece into his mouth. "Ha!" It was a rather muffled laugh of victory, though.

"Bacon thief!" grumbled Sam, failing to stifle a smile. "But you can't have my eggs!"

Frodo fielded those, as well.

"Bloody hell! I'm going to have to watch out for you, ain't I? First you snatch me bacon, then you purloin me eggs. Shan't even be able to finish me tea, at this rate..." he started for his cup with genuine longing.

"Tea I'll allow."

"Good of you," said Sam, with the best attempt at dry wit he could muster after seeing Frodo eat so well. He decided not to push things any further, and sipped his tea, trying hard to sulk.

"I get some of my own, anyway."

Sam cuffed him in the shoulder. "Yes, well, and I suppose I don't rightly need six quarts of eggs of a morning, anyway. If you like what you're having, though, enjoy it while you can. I don't know who or what's controlling our Daisy's mind today, but she's like to chase it right out by tomorrow, and then it'll be back to porridge and cold toast," he shuddered, forking another spud.

Frodo giggled, and reapplied himself to his meal. It did actually taste good.