It was an old tune, and a particular favorite of the Gamgees. “The road goes ever on and on,” Sam sang, his voice strong and true. “Would you lot find a walking song in your heads? If you keep up that dirge, I’m like to fall over on the wayside and sleep until spring!” “Oi!” Sam cried, his arm wrapped around Goldie again, falling back in step with his band of travelers. “A happy Yule to you, Da,” Goldie replied. “A happy Yule to you, my daughter,” he said formally. Sam took her face in both hands and kissed her forehead. Rising on tiptoe, she planted a firm kiss on her father’s cheek. Goldie raised her eyes and smiled, a genuine smile. “And as I’m the lad nearest, I believe you owe me a kiss, Goldilocks Gamgee.” “If you say so, Da,” Goldie said, studying the mistletoe in her fingers. He’ll have birds landing on his head next, mistaking it for a nest. “I do believe Tolman’s forgotten to comb his hair. Goldie stifled a giggle into her father’s shoulder. With that streak of mud on his face, and scowling like that-Frodo’s clouted him, I’ll bet-Pip looks nothing so much like an orc who’s missed his dinner.” “I don’t,” Sam insisted, wrapping an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. And all the lasses say that I’m so quiet, the lads won’t know I’m there. And Elanor has blue eyes, and I have brown. “I’m not beautiful like Elanor, so my hair isn’t pretty, it’s just strange. “Oh, Da,” Goldie sighed, suppressing a giggle. You’re Goldie, not Elanor, and so is your hair.” “But I wouldn’t want all of my babes to look alike. Now what put this nonsense in your head? You, with hair like the leaves of Lothlórien and all!”
“If you’re not much to look at, lass, I’d best go out and eat with the ponies, for no one will even see me as a hobbit. “You don’t hold much stock in the Brandybucks, I see,” Sam said gently. “Nobody wants to kiss me, Da, that’s all.”
“I didn’t mean,” Goldie protested, then dropped her eyes. “Oh, don’t take on so,” Sam scolded cheerfully. Goldilocks colored, burying her chin in her muffler. Had you thought to steal a kiss of your own, lass?” “They’re not likely to pass up a chance for kissing. “I reckon there’ll be mistletoe to spare at the Hall,” Sam chuckled. It’s a good bunch, and it had fallen from the trees.” She trotted to join her father, holding out a handful of mistletoe. “Goldie? Catch up, lass, we’ll not hold Yuletide for you.” Sam smiled into the frosty air, surveying his family with pride. Ruby had long since disappeared ahead of the group, elated by the promise of Yuletide at Brandy Hall. Robin and Rose walked sedately behind, sharing a handful of chestnuts. Hamfast, Daisy, Bilbo, and Primrose were practicing their newly formed quartet, which was alternately encouraged and despaired of by all their mother was currently attempting to direct, with varied results. Tolman was whistling, ignoring them both. Merry and Pippin tried to make up for the loss with an overabundance of jokes, which ranged from stuffing snow down Frodo-lad’s neck (there was a brief pause whilst Frodo soundly boxed Merry for the offense) to somersaults along the road (Pippin had slipped, earning himself a snow-coated forehead, several times). Elanor always had a tale to tell, and no one could tell it better. Missing from their number was their much-beloved sister, Elanor, married now, and expecting her first bairn. Still, they tramped on, a merry little caravan. But with Yuletide fast approaching, and a light dusting of snow on the road, the biting air reminded each and every uncovered nose that hobbits belong in a hole in the ground, preferably with a cup of hot cider and a pie or three for company. It was common enough for two or three of the Gamgee children to strike off alone and reappear a few days later with baskets of berries, flowers, and the occasional fish to make up for their absence. There were few things any of the Gamgees liked more than a long ramble. Not that the Gamgees minded they were used to tramping hither and thither, on one errand, journey, visit, or another. Summary: Mistletoe makes Yuletide merry, whether Goldilocks likes it or not. Requested: The story of Goldilocks and Faramir, with a Yule setting at Brandy Hall or the Great Smials.Ĭharacters: The Gamgees, Tooks, and Brandybucks, with various Ocs. (Dana did not sign up for the exchange this year however, she never received her story from last year.
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