Disclaimers: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. J.R.R. Tolkien does.

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Yes, I'm at it again with the Letter cliché. But this one, I hope turns out good. Here we go. :)

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Frodo Baggins proved to be more than a twelve-year-old hobbit lad. Next to his curly brown hair and those bright eyes that couldn't be ignored, he hardly expected losing his parents in the manner that had happened. What was he supposed to do now? He wanted to weep. He wanted to release those tears. And yet, leaving his parents' house for Brandy Hall, a grand smial in the heart of Buckland, was not what he had in mind. Not at all.

"Frodo," a demanding voice spoke up. Frodo looked up, meeting the gaze of his sandy-haired uncle, Saradoc Brandybuck. In his hands was a folded letter. "Your father wanted you to have this."

"Thank you," Frodo said, gently taking the letter from Saradoc's hands. Quietly, he unfolded the parchment paper, revealing a letter addressed to him.

Dear Frodo,

The time has come for you to turn twelve. It's a grand year for you, in which you will become a teenager. That is an important step to take. I would dare say I would enjoy being thirteen again, but sadly that isn't about to happen.

Anyway, if this letter doesn't reach you in time, then we will find another way. I had this letter stashed next to your mother's card, in the effort of presenting it to you on your birthday. Now, you mustn't cry or shed tears. The world doesn't need to see a tearful lad, now do they? We need to see tough lads, strong lads who can conquer anything. That isn't saying be reckless and terrorize Mr. Maggot's land. The poor farmer has been through enough as it is.

Promise me that you'll be a good lad. Remember everything I taught you and always be strong in the wake of dangerous times. Knowing you, my son, that shouldn't be an issue. But now we must part ways, for I have said more than enough in this letter. More than I should, in fact. Take these lessons with you wherever you go. I do hope we see each other again someday.

Your Loving Father,

Drogo Baggins

P.S. Save some crumpets for me, will you, son?

A few tears landed on the parchment. Frodo wiped off his nose and his eyelids. He couldn't believe he was crying. Maybe his father had a point. Maybe he shouldn't cry. But then… what could he do if he was strong all the time, and not have these moments where it was okay to cry? Maybe he was thinking about this too much.

"Are you all right?" Saradoc asked him.

"Yeah," Frodo stood up. "I'm fine. Um…" Quickly, he stuffed the letter inside his breeches' pocket. "Um… let's get moving."

"Frodo," Saradoc called. That stopped Frodo in his tracks. "You should speak with your aunt. Tell her we're almost ready to leave."

Frodo nodded. "I will, uncle." He wouldn't forget his father's letter, but still… he couldn't help but wonder when there would be a time in which strengths and weaknesses would show up. Maybe he would know, maybe he wouldn't. But one thing was clear: he wasn't giving up now. Not for anything, even as the days grew darker. At least he knew the Shire and Buckland were his home. And that's all he needed to know then, wasn't it? Oh well. He rushed off. He was ready for this journey now. The journey which would take him to Brandy Hall. He wondered how he would cope, but then there was an adventure down the next road, and that path he most certainly would take, no matter what.

The End.

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Thanks for reading. :)