Stasis by Lbilover

Angst ahoy...


frodo-sam
frodo-sam
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In the hushed hour before dawn they come together, staving off the nightmares that no one else understands. Neither speaks; the language of touch is all they need. Scars are soothed, tears shed, release sought and found, and after the profoundness of real sleep, safe in each other's arms.

In the bright light of day Sam plays with his daughter in the garden and Rosie hangs the laundry. Frodo hunches over his desk, pen awkwardly gripped in his maimed hand, and bleeds his life onto a parchment page while the sound of the sea grows ever louder in his mind.

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