faderift | [open] concerning hobbits

WHO: Samwise Gamgee and EVERYONE HE CAN FIND
WHAT: Sam's arrived at Skyhold and is exploring! Also asking questions. All the questions.
WHEN: After arriving from the Fallow Mire
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Feel free to meet Sam in any part of Skyhold! He'll be all over.

He'd tried to stick close to who he'd already started privately thinking of as his new friends - the other Sam and the wizard Twisted Fate. He'd even glimpsed, once or twice, the Man who'd pulled him out of the Mire in the first place, and saved him from being drownded. But the road from the Fallow Mire had been long, and Sam had spent much of it on his own, tucked away in small corners of wagons or sitting astride horses alongside dwarves, being too short to walk and have a hope of keeping up.

And when they'd arrived at last, he'd found himself suddenly left completely to his own devices.

Skyhold. He rolls the word around in his mind, staring up, up at the battlements and the clouds beyond. It's a good enough name for the place, he supposes, being up in the mountains as it is. And there's something in it that appeals to him - it's not quite Elvish, not quite Rivendell or Lothlórien, but it's a bit more fanciful than Hobbiton or Bywater, he thinks. As for the place itself, he finds himself a bit overwhelmed - not only with the size (which is enormous in its own right, apart from everything in it being built proportionate to Big People), but with the ceaseless activity and the seemingly endless places to explore and get lost in.

He finds the kitchen first, hobbit-senses guiding him true, but after he's snacked his fill he finds himself wanting to explore more, and he steps carefully down the stairs into the yard. There are folk of all shapes and sizes everywhere (though nobody he recognizes), and he takes a deep breath before walking forward, not quite sure where he's going.

There are Elves here; he knows that much. If nothing else, perhaps the Elves will know more about what's happened and why he's come here. Perhaps they'll at least know Gandalf's name.

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He can't blame Sam for being ashamed or terrified; he could imagine how he must have looked just then. So he picks the hammer up again and clears his throat. He keeps his voice quiet, as it's easier to control and keep about as low as he can comfortably make it go.

"Listen, Sam. It is Sam, right? Hm...might get confusing before long," he says thoughtfully, but dismisses that in favor of the original train of thought. "I know you probably have questions, or at least need some reason not to piss yourself over this. Right now's not a great time to talk about it, but if you come and find me at the Herald's Rest later, I'll buy you a round of whatever's closest to your drink. We'll talk."

...that sounds a bit threatening, doesn't it?

"Would rather avoid you getting into trouble, 's all." Yeah, that sounds better.

Even the promise of a drink isn't quite enough to make the prospect of talking about the incident sound appealing, but Sam knows better than to try and refuse. The Man doesn't seem angry, at any rate, and he tries to remind himself how kind he's been thus far.

"Yes, ser," he says again, still a bit wary of saying too much and maybe making things worse. "I'm sorry, sir, my mouth does tend to run away with me sometimes - finds trouble its own self and leads the way, as my old Gaffer used to say. I - I didn't mean no harm by it," but then he realizes that he's saying too much, anyway, and may in fact be proving the truth of the Gaffer's words even now. "I - I'll just be going then, with your leave."

"Your gaffer sounds like a smart person," Krem comments with an easy little smirk, focusing back on the chair until he can flip it upside right and wiggle it, making sure that the legs aren't loose and the seat isn't going to split. He stands and leans on it, letting his hands come together in front of him. "Sam, if you want to leave you could just say so. I'm not gonna hurt you if that's what you're afraid of."

Sam winces; he hadn't meant to make things worse, and he shakes his head miserably. "I was never afraid," he says stoutly, though it isn't quite true. "That is - I never thought you might hurt me, any road. I was only afraid - well, that I might have hurt you somehow, begging your pardon." It sounds silly, now that he says it out loud - how could someone as small as Sam hurt anyone so big and strong? - and yet, if that hadn't been pain hiding behind the Man's strained smile, what had it been?

It wasn't often he actually came across someone that was truly, legitimately concerned about the pain he might have potentially caused a stranger. It gives Krem a moment of pause, but he rallies, reaching a hand down to Sam; it's broad, calloused by weapon and work, short nails and rounded digits, a little dirty from working in and around the hold.

"Let's try again. See if we can't forget that," he suggests. "Name's Cremisius Aclassi. People usually just call me Krem. Lieutenant of the Bull's Chargers mercenary company. What'd you have me call you?"

Sam's not so convinced that his misstep can be forgotten so easily, but he gives Krem a tentative smile, shaking his hand as best he can. His own hand is just as rough and calloused, though small, and cleaner than usual (he hasn't yet discovered Skyhold's garden).

"Samwise Gamgee," he replies, and after a moment's thought, adds, "gardener. Though most just call me Sam."

"Gardener, huh. Rifts are pouring all sorts down on us," Krem says thoughtfully, withdrawing his hand and letting it cross over the other one. "Skyhold's got one in the works, for the herbalists to use and people to have some quiet time. Bet they would like having help around there."

Someone called out behind him, and Krem's attention was drawn away, for better or worse. He straightened, but on a thought reached down and patted Sam's shoulder, giving it a friendly little squeeze and shake. "Gotta go, Sam. Come find me at the tavern later, yeah?"

Whether or not Sam actually showed up, it was just a matter of what Sam was willing to do after this debacle.

[open] concerning hobbits

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