[open] many meetings

[harthad_uluithiad]

WHO: Samwise Gamgee and YOU
WHAT: Sam is back in Skyhold and never leaving again, he means it for real this time, like no seriously guys that's it
WHEN: Post-Weisshaupt (Justinian) through Solace, whenever you want it to be
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Macrinus was mean to him :( also warning for cruelty to nugs (sorry Leliana)

i. at the sign of the prancing pony

"Now, come along, Bill," Sam says patiently. He gives the pony's reins a tug, fixing him with a chastising look. "You know you won't get no oats til you go on down to the stables."

But Bill only tosses his head and whinnies loudly, stamping his foot. Sam sighs, looking down the long stone staircase leading down to the gardens, and eventually on across Skyhold to the stables below. "I just don't understand it," he says, half to himself, half to the pony. "You've always wanted your breakfast before." He looks back at Bill, now with a frown of disappointment. "Don't tell me you're ascared of these old stairs now. They can't hurt you, not with me there to keep you from falling."

ii. of herbs and stewed...rabbit?

Sam looks doubtfully down at the creatures hopping peacefully along the ground in front of him. "I don't know about this," he muttered. "I do wish there were a nice brace of coneys around - or even some pork, if wishes it is! Well there's not, and that's all there is to it." He sighs, bending down, and suddenly he goes very still. Clad in his Elven-cloak as he is, he seems almost to disappear from view, and even those who had known he was there might be hard pressed to keep sight of him.

One of the creatures - something not unlike a rabbit in fact, but bald and pink of skin, hops closer, blissfully unaware of Sam's presence. Quick as a whip the hobbit's hand darts out, and he snags it by the neck, yanking it off the ground. A sharp crack and the nug goes limp, head lolling.

Sam gets to his feet, still studying the creature skeptically. "Leastways there's no chance of fur getting into the stew," he muses optimistically, and heads for the kitchens, his spoils in tow.

iii. a knife in the dark (closed to thranduil)

He still dreams of it, sometimes - Weisshaupt Fortress. The fortress itself hadn't been a bad place, if a little hard and cold for Sam's taste, but a stone castle isn't something to cause nightmares, even a dark and dank one. No, what's stuck with him are the demons, and the pain in his hand.

He wakes with a cry, sitting bolt upright in bed and looking down to find his left hand cradled in his right, the thumb rubbing rhythmically up and down the glowing green mark. Sam studies it, swallowing hard. He's never tried to use the mark to close rifts, nor to do anything else; in fact he'd done his best to ignore it as much as possible ever since his arrival. But it's impossible to ignore now, not when he can remember Macrinus yanking hard at his wrist, sending searing pain through his hand and manipulating the mark to do...something.

Something that had hurt people.

iv. wildcard

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Comments

For Merrill

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam has been vaguely aware that something has been happening with the mage Anders, and a Spirit of Justice, but he hasn't paid much attention to anything beyond that. Anything to do with wizards and spirits, he feels firmly and quite rightly, is something far too big and important for someone like him to worry about.

That is, right up until he hears people murmuring, in low voices that spoke of concern, about the latest ritual and "that poor elf" who had been hurt. Elf gets his attention, but it's not until he hears Merrill's name that he goes pale, dropping the armful of pulled weeds he'd been carrying out of the garden and making a mad dash for the healing tents.

These, unfortunately, are far too familiar to him; he's been there often enough visiting Sina in her convalescence. But it takes him some time both to find the tent where Merrill lies, and to convince those in charge that he has any right to be there. In the end, he merely sneaks past them and inside, hardly daring to breathe.

"Miss Merrill?"

It's a whisper; her eyes are closed, and it's difficult to tell whether she's asleep.

[chainlightning]

All in all, Merrill thinks she's lucky. She's alive, for starters. She's not as bad off as some of the others. They can help her, fix what was injured and relieve the pain, and- well, it isn't like she's unused to pain or to bleeding.

Just usually she can see the blood.

Still, Vengeance is gone and can't hurt anyone with either actions or his poisonous, slippery words. It's a relief. What isn't a relief is that she's been more or less stuck in one place for two weeks now. She's been getting restless, and when nothing is going on, Merrill's taken to trying to sleep if only because wandering the Fade in her dreams is more interesting. She isn't asleep when Sam enters, though -- not if the quick opening of her eyes and her delighted "Sam!" are anything to go by, at least.

It takes her a little to sit up, the bruise on her cheek fading but still prominent and the bandages around her torso hidden by a light robe, but sit up and smile at him she does.

[harthad_uluithiad]

He looks relieved when she recognizes him, then immediately alarmed and concerned again when she turns her head and he catches sight of her cheek.

"Oh, Miss Merrill!" he cries, aghast. "They said you was hurt, but they didn't say nothing about how! And I only just heard of course; I would have come here sooner if I'd known. I would have come here right away. Oh, what happened?" He reaches out as if to brush a gentle finger over the bruise on her cheek, then just as quickly draws back. His brows draw down in suspicion. "It weren't that wizard, was it? People say he's a bad sort you know." Who these people are is left unsaid.

[chainlightning]

As usual, it takes Merrill a moment to translate Samwise-speak to Thedosian-speak -- and then there's a little laugh, Merrill shaking her head. Her face still hurts, but they've done enough that she can smile, can talk -- probably because they'd have to knock her out to keep her from doing so. The frequency with which she's continued to do so likely hasn't helped it heal any faster, but she's in good hands.

Better, with good friends like this.

"No, it wasn't Anders. Don't believe what those people who don't know him say -- he can be rude, but he was doing what he thought was right. And- well, he was possessed by a spirit, one he trusted. But it was becoming more and more apparent that the spirit wasn't good anymore," if he ever was, Merrill privately thinks, "so he tried to get free. And, uh. Justice -- that was the spirit -- attacked us when it worked."

Unconsciously, Merrill reaches up to lightly touch at the bruise on her cheek. "People were hurt, but no one died except Justice, thank the Creators."

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam looks doubtful at her reassurances - he's seen wizards go bad before, after all, or at least heard about it secondhand. And possessed by a spirit sounds very bad indeed.

But Anders is quickly forgotten as Merrill tells her story. "Attacked you!" he cries. "And - and it did all this?" He gestures to her cheek. "But Miss Merrill, why were you near it at all? You oughtn't've been, not if it was going bad. It clearly was after all; no real spirit of Justice would have any cause to hate someone like you. No good spirit ever could!" He's said too much, he realizes suddenly, and he falls silent, blushing.

i.

[bookish_lioness]

Usually, Hermione only ever sees the mounts when they're already in the stables. She never catches them elsewhere in Skyhold, though there's no reason for her to assume they just magically appear in the pens. Even so, she's still a bit surprised to see a little pony by the steps, wondering if he'd somehow managed to get out.

As she approaches, she realizes that the pony isn't on his own, and she recognizes the person attempting to tug him along. Approaching the pair just a little more gingerly than she would if there weren't an unfamiliar animal involved, Hermione tilts her head and offers a small, curious smile. "Hullo, Samwise. Working for the horsemaster, are you?"

[harthad_uluithiad]

"Hullo, Miss Hermione," Sam replies cheerfully. He shakes his head. "Oh, no. Now that'd be a sight! All them big horses. No, this one's mine - came through a rift just like you and me! This is Bill." He beams, obviously proud. Bill whinnies and stamps his hoof.

[bookish_lioness]

The idea of Sam trying to care for horses more than twice his height makes a small smile quirk at her lips. "Oh, is this the pony that came in through the rifts? I've heard of him. Hello there, Bill. You must be very special to be so famous." Much as she loves animals, she's always careful about making the first move to touch them, and so she struggles to keep her hands at her sides and to herself.

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam puffs up, clearly taking her praise of Bill as praise of himself by proxy as he gazes with shining eyes at the pony. "He is special at that; a more intelligent pony you'll never meet, nor a hardier one. Found his way here, didn't he?" He pats Bill's neck affectionately, then glances back at Hermione, noticing her hesitation, the way she clearly wants to pet the pony, and his eyes soften as he smiles. "You can go ahead. He won't bite!"

II

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss was walking from her hut across the courtyard, her wolf pup at her heel when she saw Samwise. She gave him a smile, a nod, and then - she - stopped. Turned and stared.

"... Samwise, where did you get that nug?"

Oh Maker and Creators together, please let him say he got that poor little thing from out in the forest. Please not anywhere near Skyhold. Just out in the forest and far, far away from here.

it's not leliana's

[harthad_uluithiad]

"Hullo, Miss Katniss," Sam says with a bow. He looks at confusion at the nug. "Why it was over near the chickens. Seems a bit tougher than a rabbit, but stew it long enough and it'll do, I reckon."

And Katniss goes whew.

[the_effect_she_has]

"...Oh thank the bloody maker." Katniss put a hand to her chest, breathing out slowly, before she looks down at the tiny beast. A frown touched her lips, "Sam, if you needed meat, why didn't you come and see me?"

[harthad_uluithiad]

"Come and see you?" Sam looks honestly perplexed. "Begging your pardon, Miss Katniss, but why should I do that? There's plenty of food round Skyhold, if you know where to get it. And I may be from Hobbiton and not 'way out in the Northfarthing, but that don't mean I can't hunt when there's a need same as anybody."

[rowancrowned]

He has learned several things about Sam while living with him. Firstly is that even for a Hobbit, Sam seeks to make himself—small. A useful sort of small. Puts his things away neatly, tidies. Has a certain yeasty breaking-bread smell to him. Is gentle with plants. Generally, is no more out of harmony with everything around him than an elf—if in a Hobbity way.

So when he makes himself noticed- when he cries out in the night, it wakes Thranduil, has him reaching for something sharp even as he blinks through the darkness at Sam. But there’s nothing moving beyond little Samwise, sitting upright in his little cot, his face outlined in green.

“Samwise?” The dagger goes back on the nightstand as Thranduil considers how to handle… this. He’s so easily upset

(was around the One, is possibly changed in some way by it—)

and so like to hide himself away that Thranduil minds himself. “Shall I fetch Solas?”

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam looks up, hastily closing his hand around the shard and extinguishing the green glow. "I'm sorry, Mr. King Thranduil sir, I didn't mean to shout," he mumbles, his voice somewhat thick. Under cover of darkness, he quickly wipes the tears off his cheeks. "Oh no - you needn't do anything like that. It just - it just pained me a bit, and woke me I suppose."

He swallows, gazing down at his closed fist. It still hurts, but the pain is fading, though the nightmare does not. It's still all too easy to picture Macrinus' face, and hear the pained cries of the others.

[rowancrowned]

He's no Hobbit, so no handkerchief appears to dab away the tears. Instead, he kneels down next to the head of the cot. "You are very brave, Samwise. I do not think nothing would cause you so much pain."

Thranduil can't help but flex his hand in sympathetic pain. being in the Fade had been so invigorating, so... refreshing, though falling back out had been a shock to his senses.

"We are allies, Samwise, and friends besides. If something is bothering you, I would like to know about it." That is... as far as he'll risk.

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam stops crying immediately, turning his head to look at Thranduil in surprise. For a moment he's silent, struck anew by the way the elf glows faintly in the dark and the regal beauty of his features.

And then he remembers what had stilled his tears in the first place, and his eyes widen. Allies, yes; Sam would proudly call himself an ally of any elf, those from Middle-earth most of all. But friends? He can hardly imagine Lady Galadriel ever calling him a friend, kind and generous though she is, and it shocks him nearly as much to hear the Elven-king say the same.

"Are - are we really friends?" he asks, the wonder evident in his voice. "B-begging your pardon, but I never thought - that is you're very kind of course. Only I don't know if that's quite right. I'm only a hobbit after all." Frodo had been called Elf-friend, but never Sam; and besides even Gildor had not been a King.

WILDCARD

[eolasemah]

Sam wasn't the only person who never leaves Skyhold who left Skyhold, and the other one returns not long after he does, looking quite weary but otherwise no worse for wear. Sina has even gained a bit of color from their jaunt to the Brecilian Forest, and between both of the missions she's somehow survived, she's feeling quite confident in her ability to Do Things. Just... not too quickly.

She's making her return to the tent in the garden with her small pack of things, but spies Sam before she gets there. "Samwise," she calls out cheerily, walking a bit faster to reach him and give him a gentle hug whether he's aware of it or not. She learned that from the humans!! "I'm glad to see you all in one piece."

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam looks up when she calls, his face lighting up at the sight of the elf. "Miss Sina!" He's obviously surprised at the hug, and he doesn't quite manage to return it, but if anything he looks even happier after she pulls back. "Why look at you all up and about! And nice and healthy, too." She's still a fair bit too pale and thin by hobbit standards, but perhaps that's just elves. If nothing else, she's moving faster than he's ever seen her, even if she does look more tired than he'd like. "I hope this means you're feeling better?"

[eolasemah]

She grins back at him, lifted by his sweet sincerity. "Somewhat," she says, not allowing her smile to fade, "well enough to wander the world a bit without much incident. I think I've gotten stronger." She tilts her head, eyeing the hobbit up and down. "Rumor has it you've been on an adventure yourself. How was Weisshaupt?"

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam looks happy to hear that Sina's feeling stronger, but his face falls when she mentions Weisshaupt, and he looks away. "Oh, Miss Sina," he sighs, troubled, and shakes his head. "Well it was terrible, if you want to know the truth! Just awful!" He shudders, opening his palm to look down at his shard. "I went to help, you know; but I don't know that I did anything but make it worse for all of us."

iv, but a bit of i?

[universal_charm]

Kirk patted the side of his animal's neck, a thick set, but rather docile, gelding he had been given permission to ride for his lessons. He had come to quite like the creature, and it, at least, seemed to tolerate him if not have some affection back. That might have been the carrots Kirk snuck him though. He and his mount were walking sedately around a small practice area, his mount for the most part content with the pace, which was why Kirk took notice when the animal's head came up, ears flicking, and looking towards someone heading their way.

It didn't take long for Kirk to recognize the hobbit, raising his hand in greeting. "Sam! Good morning!"

[harthad_uluithiad]

"Good morning, Mr. Jim," Sam said cheerfully. He was leading Bill behind him, having finally convinced him to come down the stairs and across Skyhold to the stables. His face lit up when he saw the horse at Kirk's side and realized what he was doing. "Why, you've done it - or rather you're doing it, aren't you? Learning to ride?"

[universal_charm]

Kirk chuckled and stroked the neck of the thick horse he sat astride, the beast seemingly mollified now that it knew it was but a hobbit and his pony coming home. There was a snort for Bill, recognizing the pony, but little else.

"Yes, that I am. I've managed a trot all on my own," he clucked and moved his gelding closer towards Sam. "And you can just call me Jim, Sam. No need for formality."

[harthad_uluithiad]

Sam beamed, though he refrained from calling Kirk anything for the moment. Being told he could call his betters (as he still thought of most everyone in Skyhold) by their given names was one thing; actually doing it was something else altogether. "And a fine trot it is too, I'm certain; and a fine start," he said. "Are you practicing now? Perhaps you could show me - unless you've already finished?"