Thoughts In Rivendell
"Mr. Frodo! Where are you Mr. Frodo?" Samwise Gamgee called through one of the many towering halls of Rivendell.
"Frodo needs himself some alone time Sam, why don't you come with me and eat a nice 3rd breakfast?" Bilbo Baggins, a quite old and wise hobbit smiled, and led his young brother to the dining hall, full of pastries and fruits aplenty. Frodo Baggins, who had been just around the corner from where Sam had been calling, stepped out into the corridor and sighed.
"Sam I praise you for your patients with me, but I simply need some time alone." He muttered to himself. Now that he and his hobbit friends, and Strider as well, were safe in Rivendell, all Frodo could think about was his life back in the Shire. How he missed his wonderful bed, with its many pillows and blankets, and his yard, a lushes green this time of year. He missed Gandalf's fireworks, the parties he threw for his and Bilbo's conjoint birthdays, and reading in the forest. Drinking and singing with Merry, Pippin, Sam, and all of their other friends. Frodo did not however, miss the Sackville-Baggins. They were a nasty crew whose sole purpose was to take Bag End. One hobbit that Frodo particularly missed, was Lobelia Gardner. A simple girl, along with the many other girls from the Shire, but she had caught young Frodo's attention. She was a reader, as was he. She would sit alongside the Brandywine river, and just read quietly and peacefully. Frodo would watch her in his days before Bilbo left. Of course he never got the courage to speak with her, he still admired her beauty and grace. She had been present at most if not all of his parties, and was a favored guest any time she need stop by his quiet home. Lobelia was a particularly outspoken hobbit. She was known for her sharp tongue as well as her calming eyes. Frodo found these features of hers very appealing. The walls of Rivendell fell away as he cast his gaze towards the bridge, that linked that world that Frodo came from, where Lobelia was now, to the one he was in now, where she would not be. A sigh escaped his lips as he touched the ring that hung around his neck. Gandalf's warning rang in the back of his mind,
"You must never put that ring on your finger. No matter the circumstance." How long would it take me to get back to the Shire if I went unnoticed by wearing the Ring? He asked himself, but soon cast the thought from his mind. How disappointed would she be in me if I were to do that? He then thought. Yet another sigh fell into the silence. Merry walked into the garden where Frodo had found his perch on a small bench. Merry did not notice the tense air that had built itself around Frodo until his eyes found his fellow hobbit.
"Am I interrupting? I was just looking for a place to"
"Carry on, Merry." Frodo called, a melancholy smile replacing his sigh. Merry smiled in return and turned quickly on his heel and ran into a tree that he had forgotten was there. With a thunk, the clumsy hobbit collided with the trunk.
"Oof." Merry muttered and picked himself off of the ground.
"Need assistance, Merry?" Frodo called to his slightly dizzy friend.
"No, no. Thank you." He called almost falling into a pile of leaves that had gathered around his feet from the blow to the tree. Merry was a distant cousin to Lobelia, and although there were no similarities between them, the thought of the relationship brought more thoughts about her to Frodo's mind. How he missed her smile, and her laugh. How politely she offered to help him clean after the latest parties. Her sweet smell when she would go sweeping by. With a grace that Merry did not possess. Gandalf walked over to the hobbit, who was deep in thought.
"Frodo, it is time. It is time for the Fellowship to leave."