A/N: Alright, in the answer to throwing dice's question....
This in my opinion is not a Mary Sue. The beginning seems a lot like it, but it goes into an adventure about finding the lost palantir. I must take back my statement of saying, "This is the opposite of a Mary Sue" but goodness, is there any way to avoid having a non slash romance fiction and avoiding it? In all truth, I wish this is what my love story would be like. But with the lack of smials and 3 foot 6 gentlemen, it is quite unlikely.
Disclaimer: This story is my own work, so PLEASE leave it be. I will not put any more up if I find out that anyone has stolen it. My mom doesn't even watn me to put it up. On a nicer note, I would really love your reviews, and like I said, if I get 25 then I will put up the next section. I have a TON of the story. All of the beautiful characters and places of Middle Earth are the product's of Sir Tolkien's imagination. But Miss Tigerlily Gamgee is mine.=)
A/N: I had just finished the third book and was thinking "NOOOOO!" And then I decided I was going to write my own ending. Which would actually only be the beginning lol. Did that makes sense? Anyway, this is Frodo's love story, because I decided that he needed a lady. WELL HE DID!=)
I apologize for the uh.. "fluffiness" of this chapter. But come on people, it's the Shire, the one place where fluff can live and breath.=)
Ok and I didn't check some of the names so please forgive me!
Frodo awoke to the annoying but familiar sting of Sun in his eyes. Stumbling out of bed and squinting, he went over to the window opposite the door to his room and jerked the curtains back in place. "The wind, guilty as always." Frodo muttered under his breath. He had not had a good nights rest, and even though it was a beautiful clear morning(as all in the Shire seem to be) he saw no point in getting up. As he lie awake amongst his bright down comforters he thought of the nightmare he had just had. Memories of the endless days spent with the Orcs in Cirith Ungol seemed to plage him more often, the loneliness, the cold, striped of all warmth and comfort he had sat, staring at the walls that he could barely see. But as he lay his head back on his pillow, he thought of Sam, singing on the broken stairs, his soft voice drifting through the darkness of the tower up to him. And of laying his weary head in his lap, like a tired child, after a long happy day of running through the rolling green hills of Hobbiton. Warm and safe he had felt, even though it was only Sam's tattered elven cloak around his naked shoulders. Like all cares had been lifted from him. He drifted even farther, to his mother, who he had barely known, cradling him at their old home in Buckland. Home. That was where he was. He wasn't in a tower, nor a cursed dungeon, full of filth of all kinds , but in the colored splendor of Bag End. He smiled. Sam. The one person who had stuck with him to the bitter end of a hopeless quest. He remembered that he had promised to call on him today. They had both been back "home" for about a year now, and Sam and Rosie had been married for 6 months, to the Shire reckoning. Frodo smirked as he remembered Bilbo's 111th birthday, and how he had given Sam a little "push" through the door when it came to Rosie. He had thrust Sam into her, who gladly whisked him of his feet in dance for a good hour or so. He laughed at how he had wished and hoped that Sam would get over his shyness with girls and "step into the ring" so to speak. Little did he know that with the fame their "quest" would bring them, Rosie would be calling on him, instead of the other way around! He began to finger a small white jewel that lay round his neck. He sighed. The recollection of the dream having passed, he lay back, and fell into a delightful, peaceful sleep.
A few hours later he sat up, jolted awake, again, by an loud abrupt rap at the door.
"Not again, maybe the trees are out to get me too." He chuckled, threw on a old olive green, fleece robe, and answered the door.
The creak of the rounded, brick red, door seemed to screech in his oversized ears.
"Hello, how and who are you to call at such a early hour of the morning?" Frodo fumbled around with the handle, completely forgetting that the noon day sun was blazing outside.
A smaller hobbit, with an equal frame, stood gaping at him in the doorway. The small almost child looking female recognized him instantly. Pictures that were strewn all over the local papers in Buckland came back to her. Frodo, the true ringbearer, was sheepishly looking at her straight in the face.
"I... I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't know which hole I was knocking. I beg your pardon sir, but I was looking for Mr. Samwise Gamgee if you please." She brushed her brunette curls from her forehead in a vague attempt not to look incredibly nervous.
"Are you in anyway related to Mr. Samwise miss?" Frodo noticed the likeness in polite behavior immediately. The girl almost fell backwards, in shock that he had noticed anything, let alone asked such an out of the ordinary question.
"Ye..yes sir. I'm so sorry to bother you, but I was supposed to meet him today, and got horribly lost with all these little back roads. I would've loved to sit and watch.." She stopped, she was "babbling" again. A nervous habit she was determined to break ever since she knew how to talk. That had never happened.
"You would've done what?" Frodo watched the girl's movements with curiosity.
"I was just saying how I would've loved to sit and watch the water trickle down some of the small streams you have behind your house, and maybe have a light smoke. I know it's a boyish habit though, so I don't really like to mention it." She blushed. She was surprised at how much she was letting away of herself. Her hero, who she had admired ever since news of his journey had started to trickle like the waters through Buckland; was standing in his nightclothes, still squinting in front of her, and all she could think about was talking. "Oh, I'm sorry Sir, I've begun to talk your head off."
"And I would have gladly had it done." he smiled "You can do no worse then Sam my dear, no worse then Sam. But here I am forgetting all about hospitality. Please come in. If it's directions you want, then it's directions you'll receive!"
The both walked into the house, Frodo still stumbling a little, which made the girl wonder whether or not he had been at the ale too much last night. In truth Frodo was getting over the personal shock that Sam had a relative he had never met before! So she was what Sam had wanted me to call about today," he mused to himself.
"Oh!" Frodo jumped. "I've also forgotten how to properly introduce myself. My name is Frodo Baggins, but by the look on your face when I opened the door, I assumed you already knew that. Well, welcome to my humble "abode"." He threw open the shutters with quick disgusted glance around his messy house; and then back at the girl, who seemed to walk circles around herself in a happy daze. "I'm afraid you caught me quite off guard. I haven't had a proper guest in a very long time, save Gandalf who dropped by last week. But even he now just seems to make himself at home. Would you care for some tea?"
"Oh yes, that would be splendid! My name is Tigerlily Gamgee, I live in Buckland, just outside the skirts of town." She started to peek her bouncy head through the numerous circular doorways of the famous Bag End. It was nothing like Tigerlily had imagined. Papers were strewn all cross the table, along with Bilbo's version of There and Back Again. She resisted the temptation to pick up the open book, littered with scrawling letters that she had too imagine were Frodo's.
"How do I not know about you? I thought I knew every relative of Sam's, dead or alive!" Frodo laughed as he started some water over the fire, and picked out his best leaves. Tigerlily wasn't listening. She seemed to be in love with the hobbit hole, too absorbed by the old furniture, the rustic colors, and the overall glow of the house itself to notice Frodo waving one of his tan, tough hands in front of her face.
"Um, hello?"
She looked up quickly to see Frodo's bright blue eyes staring at her. She blushed again. She was smitten by him, or it least she seemed to be, in her mind. But she did not altogether know how. He seemed to have a fatherly air about him, wise looking and soulful eyes that spoke volumes with a single glance. But he was still very much a gentlemen, full of life, polite, and almost willing to fulfill the laws of chivalry itself. The rumors must be true. Although she had never met one, she knew he had an Elvish air.
"I'm sorry again Mr. Frodo, if I can call you that..." At this Frodo fell on the ground giggling like a child.
"Sorry, sorry, I'll try to compose myself. You are just so much like Sam it amazes me. He called me that on our journey. I didn't like it that much. Made me feel uncomfortable. Like I was his superior, when it should be the opposite." He threw his hands in the air. "Sometimes he would even call me 'Master'! Imagine that! I was never his master, EVER, but he insisted, so I let him do it. I would prefer you just call me Frodo miss."
"Well then! I guess that explanation will do." She smiled shyly. " Hmm, where to begin. I am Sam's second cousin, on which side I don't really know. Our families have feuded since before I can remember, and I only heard harsh words about the 'Gamgees of Hobbiton'. I never asked any questions, which seemed to be the unspoken rule of my household. But after the renowned quest of the legendary Frodo and Sam, my parents had the bright idea to finally tell me about him . We've been writing for months now, ever since you two came back I've only seen him in pictures, mostly with you, that's why I was so stunned when I by chance knocked on your door. He sounds like the nicest hobbit in the Shire, but you may have beaten him out of the title."
"I doubt it. Sam is very close to my heart Tigerlily. He has saved my life more times then I can count, and almost died in the process once or twice. If I hadn't had him there, I don't know what I would've done. Lost, lost, as Gollum used to say, that's what I would've been. Lost." Frodo fell back into his favorite arm chair. A look of sudden fear and pain surged into his face, making Tigerlily jump back. Relief and color came back to his fair cheeks and he breathed again. "I'm sorry Tigerlily. It's the ring, it still has some control over me. Whenever I think about certain "memories" it happens. Pain, a hard strong shot of pain that goes down my neck through my spine and then up again. Right where it was,"he clutched his fist and seemed to throw it against his chest. He was whispering to himself, singing, a song that had no name, nor proper tongue, but it soothed him, and that was all he cared about. "I apologize again. Why don't I make us some luncheon, then we can both go and call on Sam together. He asked me to come over while we were at the Green Dragon yesterday, I can only think he wanted me to meet you! What a surprise he'll get. A walk would be nice for us too. And we could talk some more."
She just nodded her head. She thought about how much she was liking Frodo already, how , although she had not quite envisioned him this way, she liked him better. He was down to earth. "Normal" she thought to herself. The word meant nothing. She had never considered herself normal, more like an outsider. She had spent her sleepless nights contemplating the world outside her hole. Outside of Buckland, outside the Shire. On Mirkwood, and Lothlorien her thoughts dwelt, the fair places of the Middle Earth. She dreamt of elves, their fair faces and hair shining in the moonlight. Of running through the golden leaves she had only known through tales. But she kept this all inside. Tigerlily felt chills go through her back. There it was. The phial of Erethedil. The star Galadriel had given to Frodo. He himself was busying about the house, getting bread and honey, some dried fruit, the scent of chicken sizzling on the open fire had no effect on Tigerlily's senses. Frodo noticed the look of wonder in her eyes and said casually, "Oh, that's the phial alright! The Lady gave it to me when we were about to leave Lothlorien. You can touch it if you want. Sting is sitting on the dresser in my room. You can see both if you like."
Tigerlily's soft green eyes lit up like a hobbit child seeing fireworks. She slowly picked up the phial fingers trembling, no light came from the tear shaped glass, but a fire and warmth that she had never felt before flowed through her veins. Strong, beautiful and mighty she felt. It frightened her, and she put it down promptly onto the green satin pillow where she found it. She then ran to the master bedroom, which she assumed was Frodo's. His clothes for the day where spread out on a wooden rocker that sat in the corner. Papers of unfinished songs and maps were placed in neat piles on his desk. A painting hung on the wall next to the window. She went over slowly and examined it. It was of him, done in oils she assumed, with some kind of pressed flower sticking to his maroon waistcoat. She saw a small name scribbled in black in the corner "Samwise Gamgee!" she was delighted to find that her cousin, like herself, took a fancy to art. "It's quite good, I love the colors...especially the eyes."she thought to herself. Those eyes. Shining blue with specks of yellow and gold. She had noticed the beauty as soon as he had opened the door. She had a knack for it...noticing that is. Tigerlily was very observant she liked to say. Keeping her thoughts secret because of her home life, she liked to sit back and watch the world go by, enjoy life. But also being an artist, she noticed light, and color especially. She would love to sit down and paint Frodo's eyes one day. "Maybe I'll have the chance."she sighed. She was jolted out of her daydream by Frodo's voice.