Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings and really I don't want to…but I do give sooooooo much to go visit!!

"Well, here we are: Bag End."

Frodo Baggins looked around the hall in which he now stood. His uncle, Bilbo Baggins, was bustling about, prattling on about life in Hobbiton and other such things, but realy, the young Hobbit wasn't listening. As Bilbo moved into the kitchen, his charge began to explore his new home.

Having grown up in Brandybuck Hall, Bag End seemed much smaller than any home should be. But Bag End, like its owner, is full of surprises. As Frodo continued, there was always another hall, another door, another room. An hour later, the confused Hobbit wandered absently into the kitchen, hoping disheartedly that he would be returned to Buckland once more.

"Ah, there you are! I had wondered where you'd got off to. You missed lunch, but there's some bread and cheese on the table and the tea's almost ready." Bilbo watched his nephew, a mile dying on his lips. "Frodo?"

"I'm not hungry. Is it alright if I go lie down for awhile?" Bilbo nodded. Quickly, Frodo made his way down the hall he thought led to his room. It would actually be another ten minutes before he found it.

Back in the kitchen, Biblo was fiddling nervously with the items on his table, arranging and rearranging everything until the table resembled a food-based battlefield. He jumped as the tea kettle whistled for attention, scowling when he forgot to grab the tea towel first. Pouring himself a cup, Bilbo sat down with a sigh, mulling over his nephew's attitude. It was never a good sign when a Hobbit wouldn't eat; very unnatural.

True, the boy hadn't been eager to move out to Hobbiton with his supposedly cracked uncle, but he hadn't objected either. Biblo had questioned the boy repeatedly to make sure. But then, the boy had been feeling lonely. His closest friend, Meriadoc Brandybuck, had been spending les time with him as his fascination with his new cousin had grown. Frodo liked Peregrin Took as well, but the child was too young to play most of the games he liked, and so he had little to do with the boy. Merry, as he preferred to be called, had been taken with the small boy, filling more and more of his time with the small child, whom he called Pippin, much to the boy' mother's annoyance.

Perhaps he was being rash thought Bilbo dejectedly. Maybe I should take him back. If he's still down at the end of the summer, I'll take him back. Finishing his tea, Bilbo cleaned up, leaving some light into his study.

I was nearly dusk before either emerged. Quietly, Frodo slipped from his room and made his way to his room and made his way to the kitchen, hunger winning out over his depression. As he ate, the boy watched the goings on through Bilbo's kitchen window. It was mainly people making their way home, farmer's and merchants back from market, no doubt eager to see their families.

A few Hobbit lads were playing in the field in front of Bag End. As Frodo watched, a younger boy ran up to them and tried to join in. The elder lads laughed and moved away, clearly thinking he boy too young. Memories of his fight with Merry floated to the surface and Frodo quickly retreated from the window, desperately trying to shove the memories away. It wasn't anyone's fault Pippin was younger, and Merry always loved small children. Sighing, Frodo moved slowly into the sitting. Out of habit, the boy started a fire in the hearth and sat watching the flames dance. Soon, his eyelids started to droop and sleep over came the young Hobbit.

Bilbo smiled softly as he watched his nephew drift off, glad that he had at least left his room. Silently, the elder Hobbit crossed the distance and gently lifted the boy from his resting his place. Making his way down the hall, Bilbo tucked Frodo into his new bed. As he closed the door, the Hobbit hoped tomorrow would be more pleasant, for both their sakes.

TBC