Don't it make his brown eyes blue... In rather late honour of sandy80461's birthday in August 2004, I wrote a two-part ficlet. She had left her request wide open and only said "Frodo."

So, I started thinking about something that has had me divided in my "visual" perception of LotR: namely, what are the colour of Frodo's eyes, as I see them.

Before the movies came out, I always thought of them as a deep brown. And now, when I'm reading the books and am not reminded of a particular visual scene from the movies, they are still brown. But increasingly over the past few years, a blue-eyed Frodo has been worming his way into my internal world of LotR. Fancy that.

And when I write drabbles (or dream up my fantasies), my "sentimental or h/c Frodos" often have blue eyes. But my older and wiser, canon Frodo has brown eyes. Generally, if my fics have more than three chapters, Frodo will have brown eyes. If the fic has three or fewer chapters, he may have blue eyes... but not necessarily. 

Here, the first drabble is movie-verse, and the second one is book-verse.

Jewel blue and Velvet brown

I

Sam's fingers gripped the edge of the talan.

"The steps turn around these trees," he said, hushed, "just like the petals of a daisy. Except that it’s not flat. And what makes that glowing blue light, I wonder."

"I don't know," said Frodo absently.

Sam turned to look at him. As light glimmered about them, Sam saw, caught in his master's own eyes, an answering shine. Soft jewels those eyes were, he thought.

But then Frodo smiled, took Sam's hand, and said, "Come!" His eyes crinkled, and he led Sam into the shimmer of Lorien.

II

Mr. Frodo, Sam decided, as he skinned Gollum's coneys, was a study in contradiction. Take elves now. Mr. Frodo has something akin to them, the way he had that light about him. But Elves were untouchable. When one looked at their clear bright eyes, one knew they belonged to times of mystery and ancient deeds: all quite unreachable and foreign. Not that Sam didn't love them for it. But Mr. Frodo, now, when one looked at his eyes, warm, brown, and gentle, one knew that he was not remote. At least, he used not to be.

His eyes were dull now, and fine lines rimmed them: exhaustion had taken over. But the colour remained, tired or no.

And when the stew was ready, Frodo awoke and said, "Hullo, Sam." And Sam thought, Elven eyes may be beautiful, but the soft richness of Mr. Frodo's voice, and the deep brown velvet of his gaze were more beautiful than any jewel-like eyes, begging your pardon.

This is a double drabble based on an idea suggested by Shirebound: "One of the hobbits' thoughts about being back in Rivendell (after the war, on their way home to the Shire). Has it changed since they were last there? Has it changed because *they've* changed, and are seeing things differently?"

Rivendell

Magical place, this, Mr. Frodo. Always was, to my thinking, and always will be. But I reckon it’s changed, somehow.

You see, master, it was wonderful before, and that’s no different, but there was always that feeling of, well, of danger. You couldn’t take these elves for granted, no sir. But not in a bad way. Just as if you could only see what they would let you see, but all the rest of themselves was like a deep deep well - one you could never see the bottom of, and nothing you’d want to jump into, at any rate.

But that feeling of danger is gone, seemingly. They are sadder now. There’s Mr. Elrond, now. He’s not going to see his daughter again. That’s a hard thing when you’re going to live forever. But I can understand it. It isn’t a mystery to me.