Disclaimers: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. J.R.R. Tolkien does.
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Here is another theme, which I wrote late at night. So, if Frodo sounds like he's writing out of a Jane Austen novel, you'll have to excuse me. I was watching the movie "Becoming Jane" as I was writing this story and I got inspired. Enjoy! :)
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Frodo looked at the mirror, seeing his fair face. He sighed, glancing up at a candle. It was too late to stay up, and yet, he knew he must do. He needed something to ease his mind, make him feel like he had to go to bed.
Something gnawed inside him. It was this growing feeling, the horrors of what the One Ring took from him. Gollum had cursed the Baggins name, cursed him and Bilbo! The Ring sought to it to ensure that his and his uncle's life remained lonely. That's what Frodo saw in this mirror, his ugliness growing deep down inside him, clawing at him until he could no longer bear the thought and live through it unharmed.
The candle showed him his fair face, but it also reflected another side. That of his shadow, intrigue, but also disgusted with his rugged appearance. In truth, he looked ugly himself because of it. An ugliness he couldn't bear to stand at this hour. What would become of him? What could he do to ease his suffering?
His blue eyes were tired, but his mind was focused on a new task. That of telling a story. Yes! He would write, and then go to bed! It seemed necessary that he do this much tonight, to ease his aching feeling in his chest, one of pain and anguish.
He turned to his writing desk, candlelight in tow. He moved the candle on top of his writing desk, before pulling out a piece of parchment and quill, dipping the quill into the filled ink bottle, and began to write a story that was both thought-provoking and imaginative for this hour.
To My Memoirs, Which Shall Not Be Written In Full….
Dear Tom Sandyman:
I am bound to no other obligation, other than to send out this letter. It is you who must listen to me now, Tom Sandyman. I have been without a servant for quite some time. My skills and knowledge at blacksmithing have taken a toll, upon which there can be no reward.
Please understand, kind sir, that I have acquired a great deal of money. My gold coins have taken route within the folds of my cloak. I am making amends to you now, dear sir, for it is justly so that I have taken the estate with which you cannot know or trust.
Now, I am sending out this letter in light of the fact that you have swindled me beyond recall, desire, and the need to state your obligations to me in full. I want no further judgement from you, dear sir, and I will make amends to you as soon as possible.
Yours Truly,
Walter Green, Inheritor of the Bag End Estate
Frodo sighed, realizing what he had written was complete and utter nonsense. "I need to go to bed! Yes, I do." He closed the ink bottle, dried off the quill, and went to bed with his mind filled with ideas, ideas of which he hoped would be written down as soon as he woke up.
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Thanks for reading. :)