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Stagnant
Right, so I couldn't really do the lotrips100 "stagnant" challenge. But that didn't stop me from blowing the last hour on these little drabbles.

The setting: the last ROTK junket.

The hobbits’ jokes are old now—even more so than the interview questions—and tired. It’s not that Billy no longer enjoys their company, because he does. It’s just that time together now becomes work, not play; duty, not friendship.

But then they’re not really hobbits anymore, are they? They have grown, up and out and apart. Their shared dreams do not exist anymore but on paper—titles to houses and cars, half–finished scripts—and they barely refer to them, preferring silence to nerves, to embarrassment—to apology.

Yes, they have grown. And Billy can think of little else.

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Elijah is spiky and smart–assed now, no trace of the innocent left in him. Even his eyes, those twin lights, are dimmed by the last year and the choices he’s made.

Billy watches Elijah’s eyes flit from Dominic to Astin. He understands, but he cannot approve. Not when he’s seen the consequences of Elijah’s choices—when he knows what they’ve meant to Dominic.

Still, Elijah is a friend, and so Billy bears the sweet stench from Elijah’s jacket, ignores the curses Elijah releases into the air between reporters.

He is still young, Billy thinks, and he will grow kinder.

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Astin is kind, as he always is, answering questions when the others cannot. His smile is genuine, his handshake firm.

A softness surrounds Astin, even after all these years as Sam, as a father, as a friend. The lights catches his eyes, and his expression turns childlike, grateful. He greets the world as he does his daughters—with open mind, arms and heart.

But when he is on duty, watching Elijah’s back and Dominic’s front, something strange and unmovable sets in Astin’s face, and it is difficult to watch.

He is still young, Billy thinks, and he will grow harder.

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And Dominic, well. Dominic is all ashes and bone and over–bright eyes to Billy. This year has taken a toll Dominic refused to acknowledge, to admit, even to the one who loved him most in this world.

But Dominic is trying now, at least. He is working, meditating and letting his spirit of compassion and peace rule him more than his mouth. He is reaching out with gentler hands to Astin, to his family, even to Elijah. And he is smiling again, especially in the direction of Billy.

He is still young, Billy thinks, and he will grow stronger.

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Billy is quieter than he’s ever been, thinner too. He’s also more unsettled. He runs from continent to continent seeking work, seeking contentment, occasionally seeking Dominic when he disappears.

He feels detached from their youth, their energy—the fire that burns inside Elijah, the warmth that permeates from within Astin, the smouldering afterglow that seeps even now from Dominic’s body.

Billy’s always complained of the cold, but he’s never felt the loss of heat this hard. He can accept it as a symptom of age, and so he does.

I am still young, Billy thinks, and I will grow older.

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There is silence afterward. Four pairs of eyes fall to the carpet, four pairs of hands drift into pockets.

Four sets of feet rock back on their heels.

“I’m starving,” Dominic murmurs.

And Billy waits, hoping, praying—

“Yeah,” Elijah whispers back. “Yeah.”

“Catering,” Astin laughs, and Elijah giggles.

“Now, like,” Dominic smiles.

And then they are leaving, the warmth rushing from Billy before he can hold it. Dominic stops at the door, one hand in Elijah’s, the other held out to Billy.

“Bill,” he says gently, and Billy nods.

We are still young, Billy thinks, and we will grow wiser.


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