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Dorcas stifled the giggle that arose in her throat at the word “moogles.” Obviously she couldn’t mock him for it, and she’d never do such a thing. But it still made her want to giggle a little bit.
Dorcas was about to answer his question, before seeing him shift his hand and sharply remembering that she had a job to do here. She cleared her throat.
“Erm, yes, a bit. But first I think I should get this out of your hand first.”
Dorcas picked up his hand gently with her own, and then waved her wand over it with her right hand, muttering a spell. The thorn barbs gently rose into the air out his hand, and Dorcas grabbed a small container off the counter to capture them in, careful not to touch it with her own hand and then fastening it tightly with a lid before placing it aside. She’d like to take the time to study them later.
Dorcas performed a quick disinfecting spell on the wound before grabbing some gauze and wrapping his hand.
“Right, leave that on for the rest of the day, and you should be fine,” she said. “In answer to your previous question, I’d say it’s got similarities and differences. In my world wizards were hidden away from the rest of the world. We kept our magic a secret from non magical people. But here, we can perform magic out in the open and be completely honest about ourselves. Nobody really bats an eye. I really like that part. It’s nice not to have to hide. I’d say that’s the biggest difference, besides there being different sorts of magic and different magic users. Like I know some people who call themselves mages, and their spells are completely different from mine. It’s fascinating.”
Nodding, Sam gave his hand a quick look, as if he had nearly forgotten the pesky things were still there. He was surprised how little effort it took for the whole thing to be done and over with. In a moment it was like nothing happened at all. After looking at his restored hand impressed, Sam let Dorcas work on wrapping it.
“Well I knew this place was all about speedy care, but this has to be a new record,” he grinned.
It was nice to hear Dorcas didn’t have to hide anything here. Secrets were a hassle, especially such life changing ones as she kept. He knew that very well. “It is fascinating! We have magic where I’m from, but as you said the specifics differ greatly to many people in this town.”
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Dorcas grinned. Not from earth? That made it all far more interesting. She was instantly curious about the plant and the project that Sam’s customer was working on, but she knew it would be unprofessional for her to ask for too many details (and unprofessional for him to give them).
“Very interesting,” she said demurely, waving her wand above his hand, muttering a spell underneath her breathe. She listened to it hum, and then tucked it away in her pocket again.
“I can definitely fix you up,” she said with a smile. “Oh, the Shire? Sounds like an interesting place. And you can say I’m not quite human either, being a witch, but it’s sort of complicated I guess.” Dorcas was very much enjoying talking to Sam. “What’s the Shire like?”
Sam had been intrigued by the concept of magic ever since he was a lad. He had heard tales from all sorts– his Gaffer, Master Bilbo, Ted Sandyman, they all had a story to tell about elves from long ago, or the wandering wizard who came through the Shire to put on magnificent firework displays. Even after seeing it for himself, he remained infatuated.
“It's quite an interesting place, miss,” he smiled, that fond, slightly melancholy one that only came about when he thought of home. “It's beautiful. Acres of farmlands and wild fields. Little dots of light through windows when it's dark out. We don’t have houses in the typical sense. They’re built into the hills, for the most part, though we have one story buildings too. Some of the fields are plowed clear, and we’ll have parties or festivals, open for all… sorry, got lost in the thought for a moment. What about you? Are you from this place?”
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Dorcas did her best to keep her face straight. Sam. Samwise Gamgee. Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings was standing in front of her in a hospital room. This world truly was spectacular.
“Ah,” she said, coming close and taking a good look at the barbs in his hand. It looked painful, but she appreciated how cheerful Sam was regardless. “Well, I can definitely help you, Sam. Can you tell me about the plant these are from? I don’t recognize it.”
As she spoke, Dorcas withdrew her wand from her pocket, ready to perform an analysis spell. “I’m a witch, from another world,” she said, grinning a little bit. “So I’m going to use this to do an analysis if that’s alright.” Her professional demeanor was fading. Having Sam here was too exciting. “Are you from another world too? Or homegrown in Sallow Hills?”
This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten a plant related injury, and it was undoubtedly far from the last. He had been used to things like this since he was a lad, so it barely phased him anymore. The hospital visit was just for safety’s sake, as he didn’t what to make anything worse.
“‘Course I can. Its not from Earth, I don't think. Someone in town, one of my customers, they asked if I could cultivate some for a project they were working on. Its not toxic, just has a nice coat of protection on it.” All true information, he only held back the personal details, as airing out customer information (especially magic-related) was bad for business.
Sam watched, intrigued by her wand. Earlier in his time in town, magic-users made him nervous, but he had grown much more used to it since. “That's just fine... No, no I’m not homegrown here. I’m from a different place entirely. I’m not even human,” he gave a little laugh at that. “I'm from a placed called Michel Delving in a land called the Shire.”
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Dorcas Meadowes was settling into her job at the hospital. Her role was technically that of a nurse's assistant, mostly because she didn't know anything about muggle medicine when she applied for the job. Her skills were all magical when it came to healing. In her month at the hospital though, she had picked up some things, and now she felt pretty confident when it came to at least the rudimentary practices of muggle healing. She had to be careful about using the word muggle though. She wasn't quite sure what she would define the people in this town as. They came from all over, and some exhibited magical traits she had never heard of. It was quite interesting, and truth be told she was quite enjoying learning all about the town and its oddities.
Dorcas picked up the chart for the next patient and looked it over. Samwise Gamgee? Dorcas was halfblood, with a muggle dad, so she was well versed in the Lord of the Rings series. In fact, she was quite fond of it, and was fond of Sam in particular. How interesting... Perhaps a towns person had been so fond of the series they named their child after the character... or... no, it couldn't be. But stranger things did seem to happen in this town.
Dorcas swung the door to the patient room open, and there in front of her was a full on hobbit. She looked at him in awe for a moment, surprised, but quickly regained her composure.
"Hello Mr. Gamgee. I'm Dorcas Meadowes. What can I help you with today?"
✧・゚ @bombadills
Samwise Gamgee was a ninnyhammer. His Gaffer had said it often enough, and Sam was once again proving him right. It was hard to sleep without Frodo anymore. To have him here, then for him to disappear as fast as he had come was much harder than the Hobbit had let on. He hadn’t been sleeping right since. He hadn’t thought it was taking much of a toll until this morning. He had been tired, exhausted, as he was opening the Nursery.
Everything happened quite quickly: he had scraped his hand on one of the otherly plants’ barbs he was growing for the scary purple-eyed lady, and when he recoiled his hand, he managed to get quite a few of the barbs lodged in his palm. A simple instance of not paying enough attention to his work.
So, instead of opening, he quickly scribbled up a sign that read “sorry– closed until 1pm today” to tape on the door, and he made his way to the hospital. The plant barbs wouldn’t cause any further damage or poisoning, so Sam didn’t mind the walk; it was a decent day for midwinter. The people there had been good to him in the past (not that he needed to visit often). He was quickly admitted and settled in a sterile looking patient room. Say what you would about Earth– their medicine was far more impressive than anything Sam had ever seen back home.
“Morning, miss!” he smiled when she came in. “Sam is just fine, no need for formality. He held his palm up so she could see. “Well, when I was opening my shop today, I wasn't paying enough attention to where my hand was going, and scraped the back of it on a thorn. When I flinched to pull it back, I managed to get some of the barbs of the plant ‘side it stuck in my palm. I wager getting them out myself is a bit above my pay grade.”