A/N: Hellllooooo everybody! Now most of you who've read this already know Sparrow's secret, so I decided it was time to listen to some of your criticism and shape up! Seriously, I didn't realize how bad some of those chapters were until I went back and read them a few days ago; you all were so nice to read such literary garbage and not flame me for it! Anyways, here is the new and improved Betrayal:

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It was a cool night; stars danced high in the sky above Gandalf the Grey's sparkling fireworks, Hobbits danced merrily and drank more than they probably should have. But it was okay for such a momentous occasion as this: Bilbo Baggins' eleventy-first, 111, birthday. Everyone enjoyed themselves and laughed until they could barely stand. Everyone, that is, except a certain Frodo Baggins.

Now, don't get me wrong, Frodo was enjoying himself, just not as much as he should be. For one, parties were never really his thing; he slightly wished he could be back at Bag End in his nice soft bed, reading about brave knights, fierce dragons, and - most importantly - Elves. As I said, though, he was still having a grand time, but he felt it would be better if he could only find his close friend who had been sick in bed for the past two months.

Frodo jumped when a hand fell on his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Mr. Frodo," came the voice of Samwise Gamgee, a sturdily build Hobbit lad whose hands and mop of dirty blonde hair always seemed to be dirty because of all the time he spent gardening. "Is something wrong?"

"All is well, Sam." he replied, taking a swig of sweet ale from the mug Samwise was offering him. "It's just I haven't..." Frodo trailed off.

Sam nodded knowingly. "You shouldn't worry, Mr. Frodo; she'll come. The half of the Shire that wasn't invited wouldn't miss this, why would she?"

Frodo sighed. "Of course, you're right. It's been so long since we last saw her."

"Not her fault she came down with a terrible fever."

Frodo chuckled. "Do you remember how she reacted when we told her she needed to stay in bed?"

The gardener let out a little laugh, too. "Of course! If she could've, she would have killed me with that glare of hers."

The dark-haired Hobbit turned to his servant suddenly, a thought striking him like lightening. "Sam, have you seen Pippin?"

"Last I saw him he was having a drink with Mr. Merry. Why?"

Frodo nodded. Of course Peregrin Took was with his best friend, Meriadoc Brandybuck; the two were inseparable. "Pip would know where she is!"

Sam was about to reply, then caught something out of the corner of his eye. "Rosie Cotton," he whispered dreamily, staring at the lovely golden-haired lass.

"Go ask her to dance." Frodo said with a little nudge, but Sam shook his head and looked into his empty mug. "I think I'll just go get myself another ale..." Sam said it as if he were trying to convince himself rather than Frodo that he wasn't going to. Frodo caught his arm as the gardener stood. "I'm not letting you do something you'll regret." Frodo explained, pushing Sam towards the lass. Rosie caught Sam's hand, said a few words to him, then the two were just another couple among all the dancing Halflings.

Frodo laughed again and set out to find Pippin. It took a good fifteen minutes, but he eventually found both Merry and Pippin. Both were covered in soot and washing dishes grudgingly. "Oi," Frodo called, "Pip, is your sister here?"

Pip thought for a moment then said, "Last I saw her, she was dancing with Fatty. But you know how lads get when she's around,"

Frodo let out a little scoff. His friend was exceedingly beautiful and, while he could respect that, he never really found her romantically appealing. Other men, though...

Pippin continued: "And now that she's well, it seems every lad in Hobbiton-"

"Every lad in all the Shire, more like." Merry interrupted.

Pip agreed with a nod, but otherwise ignored him. "They've all seemed to realize life is short. Now they're all trying to win her affection. Just imagine next year when she comes of age, think of all the broken-hearted Hobbits she'll leave in her wake."

"They shouldn't have gone chasing a lass that's too good for them." Merry said and took a swig of his drink.

"Hear, hear."

Frodo groaned. As if tracking her down wasn't hard enough. Now he had to get through a line of moony hobbits. Still, he thanked them and set off to find the only person he seemed incapable of finding. It wasn't long before he came to one of the makeshift pavilions set up for the party. It was pretty far on the outskirts of the party, very few Hobbits came this far from the merriment, making it an ideal place for someone to hide. And - of course, since it was a hiding spot - there sat the lass much sought after: Sparrow Took.

Sparrow was somewhat of an oddity in the Shire; she was tall and lanky like Frodo, whom she was an inch shorter than - another thing he never let her live down, just like his being older. The only thing on her fair skin was a spattering of brown freckles splayed across her nose and cheekbones and deep forest green eyes which always had a joyful light in them. A thing that made her stand out more than her height and her almost unearthly beauty was the mane of curling, fiery red that hung down to the base of her shoulder blades.

Now I'm sure you are all wondering about the two's relationship, so I will give you a bit of history:

Sparrow and Frodo had been best friends since the latter had moved to Hobbiton. The two had taken to having tea at Bag End, then they would go explore the woodlands around Hobbiton, much to Mrs. Tooks displeasure. Sparrow's father was Thain of the Shire and Eglantine thought that exploring - a most unexpected pass-time for any Hobbit, even Tooks, who were often associated with adventures - was an unacceptable way for a child of the Thain to act. But the only reason they ever got in trouble for was coming home past curfew.

Sometimes, though, they would play a game they made up, called Tig, in the marketplace, running around and giggling as they yelled over their shoulders, "Catch me if you can!" Often knocking over carts, produce, and even the occasional other Hobbit.

All in all, they had been pretty mischievous young Hobbits. In fact, one of their favorite memories together was one of their worst scoldings. They had just finished one of their most exciting games of Tig and it was not long before Mrs. Took found out about the havoc they had caused. And so, they found themselves being dragged by their ears to Bag End. The whole while Mrs. Took was muttering things like, "I though you two were raised better better," and "Honestly, do you two know what a muck you caused in the marketplace?" And so on.

Once at Bag End, the two were sat down as Eglantine and Bilbo spoke in hushed voices. After a quarter of an hour of sitting in silence, the Took and Baggins still discussing a punishment, Frodo whispered, "We should do this again, it was fun."

Sparrow had to stifle a disbelieving scoff. "Do you realize how much trouble we'll get in?!" she made it sound like she was complaining, but Frodo knew Sparrow better than that: even the thought of causing trouble exhilarated her. "Mum and Da already think you're a bad influence on me. If Mum finds us again, she might not let me spend my afternoons with you. They don't seem to realize most our schemes are my ideas." she added in a hushed tone just to be safe.

"We could go out to the forest?" The lad suggested and Sparrow gasped, practically bouncing out of her seat as a thought came to her: "We could bring Sam!"

Frodo furrowed his brow to show his confusion. "Why would we do that? He might get in trouble because of us, and then, he being the kind lad he is, would take the entire blame. We would be free and he would be grounded. We couldn't do that to him!"

"That's exactly why we're taking him!"

Frodo's frown deepened. "So we can be horrible people?" he asked slowly.

Sparrow shook her head in frustration. "No, so he keeps us out of trouble!" she explained rather loudly, though neither Eglantine or Bilbo noticed.

"Oh!" Frodo exclaimed. "That's perfect! Sam won't let us do anything wrong, we won't get in trouble, and your mother will think better of me." he finished with a grin. Sparrow nodded to show that was what she had been thinking all along. They spit on their palms and shook hands to seal the deal, then Mrs. Took and Bilbo came into the room. That day they got the worst scoldings and punishment they would ever get, but to this day they agree it was completely worth it.

The next day, the trio did go off into the woods; but Frodo still got in trouble, as he came home soaking wet. But that is a story for another day, and it is high time we finished this one:

"Sparrow!" Frodo called, rushing to her and embracing her tightly. He heard Sparrow chuckle in his ear. "Now, now," she whispered jestingly. "You're going to make the other lads jealous."

Frodo pulled back, a hand still resting on the redhead's shoulder. "Oh come off it. I haven't seen you in ages, am I not allowed to be glad that you're well?"

This time Sparrow let out a loud, hearty laugh as she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, by the looks you're giving me, you'd think I died and came back to life!"

The lad mimicked her eye movement. He tapped her shoulder lightly with the tips of his fingers and stated tauntingly, "Tig." Then sprinted off.

Sparrow threw her hands up in exasperation, calling after him, "You haven't seen me for months, and this is the first thing you do?!" She scoffed, chuckled as she thought about how glad she was that she wasn't ill any more, and chased after him.

Frodo ran swiftly to where Pippin and Merry were still washing dishes, Gandalf sitting next to them smoking his pipe. Frodo dived under a clothed table as he yelled to them, "I'm not here!"

Of course, when Sparrow came looking for the dark-haired lad and Merry and Pippin said in unison to inquiry of where he was, "He's not here," she knew immediately where he was. So Frodo thought it fitting to make a spectacular entrance: he jumped out from under the white tablecloth and tackled Sparrow, who let out a squeal of surprise.

"You - bloody - git!" Sparrow yelled as she tried to push Frodo off her. He was most adamant about staying where he was. Finally, when Sparrow gave up, he jumped off her, took her hand and helped her stand. Sparrow wiped grassy dirt off her green and yellow dress, took one long look at the lad, then asked, "You're drunk, aren't you?"

Frodo gave her a lopsided, obviously intoxicated grin. "Noooo," he said, dragging out the single syllable, then continued indecisively with a shrug to match: "Maybe just a little bit."

Sparrow shook her head and scoffed, but before she could comment Frodo took her hand in his and put his other one on her waist and the two started to twirl to the music. "So how was bed?" Frodo asked, his quirky grin still on. Sparrow had to note he was quite a good dancer.

"Oh, well, it was bed. Did you know you could actually get a rash from lying in bed too long?"

"Don't tell Uncle that, he'll try to use that against me." Frodo joked, spinning the redhead around with one hand. Something caught Sparrow's eye and she almost stopped dead as she turned: three giggling brown-haired lasses were staring pointedly at Frodo, one of them in a rather uncouth way.

"I wish they wouldn't gawk like that." she growled as the lad put his hand back on her hip.

"Forget them, Sparr." Frodo dismissed it so easily, but Sparrow knew none of those lasses cared about his character: they all just wanted him for his looks. It wasn't like they knew Frodo - though, not many did; ever since his parents' death he'd become something of a recluse. Not many knew more about him than his name and that he was a very fine-looking young man.

Frodo snapped in front of the redhead's noise. Inside she jumped, but she knew better than to physically show surprise. "Sparrow, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, yes, of course, Frodo." she lied. "What were you saying?"

Frodo sighed and repeat: "Farmer Maggot's mushrooms should be in season by now-"

"No, no, no," Sparrow interrupted. "I'm trying to get Pip not to steal from Maggot, I can't be a hypocrite and do it myself!"

"But you know how good his mushrooms are..." The desperation was obvious in his voice. He wanted the mushrooms, but he needed Sparrow because she knew how to plan and make a clean get-away.

Sparrow stopped and crossed her arms. "I said 'no', Frodo, and that's final."

"Spoil sport," he said with a smirk.

"Idjit." she shot back, a hint of a smile upon her features.

Frodo rolled his eyes and the two continued to dance in silence, mad grins playing upon their faces. It felt amazing just to see each other again. All the trouble they could get into, the games of Tig, the quiet afternoons just lying in the forest staring at clouds and imagining shapes... the possibilities were endless.

After a couple of minutes, a chant begging for Bilbo's speech came from the crowd. Sparrow and Frodo sat at one of the many table set up for the party, both holding a warm ale, as Bilbo climbed upon a barrel at the front of the throng.

"My dear Bagginses and Boffins, Tooks and Brandybucks, Grubs, Chubs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots!" Bilbo projected across the group; each clan cheering as their names' were said, except for one old Proudfoot who yelled, "Proudfeet!" Bilbo waved it off with a dismissive hand, the crowd laughed. Bilbo continued: "Today is my eleventy-first birthday!" A few young Hobbits yelled out "Happy birthday!"

"Alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable Hobbits." Another round of cheers went up as the old Halfling said this. "I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like half of you half as well as you deserve."

To this there was silence. The lads and lasses looked at each other blank-faced, trying to figure out if they'd just been insulted. In the back, Frodo and Sparrow snorted in unison. "Old Bilbo sure has a way with words," the redhead murmured jokingly to the lad. Bilbo's face suddenly went pale as he - unbeknownst to the others - pulled a Ring out of his pocket and fidgeted with it behind his back. "I, uh, I h-have things to do." he stuttered, then whispered to himself, "I have put this off for far too long." Frodo's smile faded slightly at this. What could his uncle be talking about? Put off what?

Bilbo seemed to remember he was at the front of a confused group of Hobbits, who were whispering among themselves by now, and said, "I regret to announce - this is the end. I am going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell." He looked directly at Frodo. "Goodbye." Bilbo slipped this ring on his middle finger, vanishing instantly; a loud sound of Ooh!s and Oh!s went up from the party-goers.

Frodo, on the other hand, jumped to his feet. Much to his surprise, Sparrow caught his wrist. He pulled, but her grip was vise-like. "Stop." she commanded, her voice suddenly very serious.

"But, Bilbo-!" Frodo moaned. Then he turned to the redhead to see an expression on her face that was very new to him: pure, unchecked terror.

"Just. Sit. Down." she ordered sharply, her voice quivering a bit this time. Her freckles stood out strikingly bright against her nearly white skin.

"Sparrow, are you-" he began and her grip on his wrist tightened. Frodo imagined he could hear his bones creaking against one another as her nails bit into his flesh. "Shut up!" Sparrow snapped. Frodo was taken back by this. Sparrow rarely raised her voice unless she was kidding around. Now, though, she was deadly serious.

And so, he sat down in silence until he realized how badly Sparrow was starting to hurt his wrist. He was a little worried that she might break his hand; he didn't doubt she could. "Sparrow," the lad began again tenderly, this time she didn't cut him off. "It's okay. This is just one of Bilbo's jests. He's not gone." Frodo thought it sounded as if her were trying to convince himself of that rather than Sparrow.

The redhead let go of Frodo and shook her head. "Th-that's not what I'm afraid of..." Her voice cracked, unshed tears magnified her eyes slightly. Frodo wrapped her tightly in a hug. "It'll be alright." he whispered.


Frodo - this being a party for him, too; his Coming of Age party - felt it his duty to calm the rabble of uncertain and slightly frightened Hobbits. This task took about an hour to complete and, while Sparrow trailed along beside him, she did little to help - instead staying inside her own thoughts and muttering to herself as she clutched the jacket Frodo had placed around her shoulders tightly.

Between his encounters with others, attempting to convince them this was all just a childish prank, Frodo could hear the redhead whisper, "Not now. Please, Manwe, let this be anything else." or "What am I going to do? I-I can't, I just can't..."

Frodo never knew Sparrow to be dramatic, so whatever she was talking about must have been pretty important. She and Bilbo had been rather good friends and he was always there to help her out of a tight spot; maybe she was in such a position now? It wasn't his business, though, so he didn't ask.

A few minutes later, Peregrin Took came to him. Sparrow had much recovered from the initial shock. Pippin thanked Frodo for the invitation to the party. Frodo in turn asked if Pip would mind him walked home with them to make sure Sparrow would be okay.

It wasn't a long while before the three were at the Took smial. Pippin once again thanked and went inside. "Sparrow," Frodo said; "Are you going to be alright?"

Sparrow managed a little laugh. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" If she had said this to any one else, they would have believed her. But Frodo knew her better. All the little signs told him she wasn't okay: her shoulders weren't squared fully, her arms hung stiffly by her sides, and her knees were locked tightly. Sparrow saw his disbelief and rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine. It was just a bit of a shock to us all."

Frodo nodded. Those little signals still stood out too brightly. "It's late. I'm going to bed now." Sparrow said firmly, drawing the lad out of his concerned thoughts.

"Yes, yes, right." Frodo shook his head. This was Sparrow Took they were talking about. If she simply looked at a dragon, the beast would walk away with its tail between its legs. She would be alright.

Frodo placed a brotherly peck on her cheek. "Rest well," Sparrow gave a little nod of acknowledgement and went inside.

Frodo sighed and began the walk to Bag End. He wouldn't admit it - not even to himself - but he secretly wished he would find Bilbo there, making a pot of tea and smiling gaily. "I got you, didn't I?" he would ask with an even bigger grin.

Before he knew it, Frodo was back at the large Hobbit hole. With a breath of anticipation, he put his hand on the large golden knob in the center of the green turn, another inhalation to calm his anxiety, and he opened the door. Directly on the ground in front of him lay Bilbo's golden ring. The lad frowned. Bilbo loved that ring, why would he leave it? Frodo looked up. Gandalf sat smoking his pipe, lost in thought, by the hearth fire. A sickening thought struck the Hobbit. "He's gone, hasn't he? He talked so long about leaving. I didn't think he would actually do it..."

The wizard's head jerked up and he plastered a smile on his face. "He left you his ring." Gandalf pulled out an envelope from his robes. He gestured for Frodo to put the ring inside and the lad did. Gandalf sealed it with red wax and handed back to the Halfling. "Bilbo has gone to stay with the Elves. He's left you Bag End and all his possessions. The ring is yours now. Keep it somewhere out of sight." Gandalf added. He stood and gathered his hat and staff.

"Wait, are you going?" Frodo questioned, following after the wizard as he went to the door.

"I must." the wizard replied.

"But you've only just arrived!" the Halfling pointed out.

"There are things I must do," Gandalf explained.

"What things?" Frodo inquired.

"Questions that need answers," he continued, ignoring the question.

"What questions?!"

Gandalf turned to the Hobbit. "Keep it secret. Keep it safe." With that, Gandalf left with in a sweep of grey material.

Frodo looked at the off-white envelope in his hands, frowning. He just shrugged. He himself was a bit drunk, who's to say Gandalf wasn't, too? Frodo put the envelope on the hearth and went off to bed, praying in his heart that Bilbo hadn't left and this all just a bad dream.

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A/N: So, liked it? Hated it? Maybe somewhere in between? Let me know in a review! Don't forgot, I love suggestions and anything you request, I'll make sure the others in the audience know it was your idea! I'd also love it if you tell me what I can improve on so I can better please YOU! Thank you all for reading!

-Lathiel