Disclaimer: I own a tattered copy of each of the books and some action figures. That's it.
Rating: G
Summary: Just a couple of moments inside a hobbit's head.
A/N: This just popped into my head. I was thinking about "Shadow of the Past" and about the bit where Frodo thought an earthquake or an invasion of dragons would do the hobbits good, and this piece just came to me. Comments, complaints, suggestions, please review if any of the above strike you while reading this piece.
It was a week before the move to Crickhollow, but in Frodo's opinion, it couldn't come fast enough. He had just finished making all of the arrangements: a time consuming and energy sapping lesson in making sure everything was done correctly. Despite this, everything had to be packed and readied for travel; the last of the legal matters surrounding the purchase of bag end had to be settled: all these things and more still had to be done. It was a daunting thought.
It was finally after dusk. Frodo curled up in a soft armchair in the sitting room with a mug of tea and a blanket to help him think. He hadn't had much time to do that, lately. With all of the brouhaha that had been happening, down time was a commodity that he had had to do without.
Ever since Gandalf had advised him to take the Ring and leave, he had been troubled. He swilled around the tea, and a small, bitter smile appeared on his face at the comparison between the swilled around drink and his constantly swirling thoughts. He had always blithely trusted Gandalf's opinion, though not without cause. The old wizard had always been right, which gave a firm foundation for Frodo's trust.
Still, he would miss the Shire, now that he had to leave it. He sighed. He had loved almost everything about it, from the fields and streams, to the gentle hills that covered the landscape, and had respected the other hobbits, albeit some of the more simple ones grudgingly. The invasion of dragons didn't seem like the best thing to have happen at this point in time. He chuckled.
Besides, his friends were here. Merry, Pippin, and Sam especially. He had been heartened by the thought that Sam was coming with him, but his other friends had to remain behind. What would they think when they found out he had left Crickhollow? Would they be sad? Angry? Disappointed? Knowing Merry and Pippin, they would probably be jealous if they ever found out he had gone on an adventure. The smile on his face widened at the thought.
He had yearned to have an adventure and see the outside world ever since he had heard tales of far off lands as a small child, but he had always thought that it would be a grand sort of adventure, like Bilbo's. He would come back as a hero, having done some wondrous deed, not to spend the journey in fear and to come back having lost something that he had for so long believed to be no more than a harmless and rather intriguing piece of jewelry.
This entire venture spawned by the Ring. Why him? He mused. Why did it have to be him? Then again, he only had to traverse as far as Rivendell. Then, the matter would be out of his hands, and he could return home. The thought was reassuring, but a small patch of foreboding had settled itself at the bottom of his stomach. He thought he knew why, but saying it aloud would make it real.
He looked out the window to his left, and saw the sprawling and beautiful patches of flowers that Sam Gamgee so meticulously sowed. Further down he saw other homes, candles beginning to flicker on as the last rays of light departed the sky. He felt a abrupt surge of protectiveness: he would do whatever it took to keep everything in the Shire as it should be.
He finished the tea and looked down at the cup. Whatever it took... The last thought in his mind still lingered.
Whatever happened would happen later. For now, he could only think, and wonder what lay ahead.