A/N - My first ficlet! Not as serious as it might sound at the beginning - please just read it all!
He hadn't known that morning that it would be his last happy and comfortable waking for a long time. If he had, maybe he would have slept the age away, barring the door and refusing interaction with anyone. No one would have thought any worse of him. After all, Shire life was about tradition and endurance of a way of living. They all thought that the name of Baggins meant madness anyway.
He smiled. The thoughts of madness and attempted reclusiveness reminded him of Bilbo, and his final days in Bag End. The way he had informed the village "No admittance except on party business" and then refused to allow access to anyone. Those were good times. What he wouldn't do to see the old hobbit again.
The morning started innocently enough. His friend and servant Samwise brought him a breakfast worthy of any man, before delivering the news that he had received word of a visitor from "foreign parts, Mr Frodo," who would be arriving at Bag End before sunset. In retrospect, of course, he should have told Sam that on no accounts was he to let anyone in, but that was before he knew that the stranger's arrival would signal a severe alteration in the comfort of his life.
However, that was in retrospect, and what was done was, well, done. The stranger had arrived, as promised, mid afternoon - in a large cart heavy with burden. Sam had let the man in, and assisted in carrying the heavy articles to the appropriate room, while he had simply sat to one side. Frodo wasn't sure, initially, of the man's purpose: he had not been expecting the visit, but he wasn't sure, at this stage, if it was entirely unwelcome. All he did know, was that he had come because of a great evil.
The man left at dusk, his cart lighter, to return if need arose. Frodo had sighed and retired to bed, and an unrestful sleep followed.
In the morning, the cause of his unrest was revealed by a note the stranger had left by the offending article in Frodo's bedroom.
"Sam," said Frodo, with some discomfort, "Never let the Sackville Bagginses dispose anything on me ever again. Their gift of a new bed as an early birthday present shall be the death of me."
Later that afternoon, another unexpected visitor graced the doorway of Bag End. Gandalf the Grey had arrived, bearing bad news.
'Great,' thought Frodo, as the history of the One Ring was revealed and he was told he would have to leave the Shire, 'This week just gets worse and worse.........'
A/N - Oooh, that was fun! I shall have to do it again sometime......
Updates of "The (Un)Official Olympics of Middle Earth" coming soon! Watch this space!
Comments are much appreciated, especially if they are nice! Flames go to Tigerlily, my bodyguard, who will set her precious on the offending reviewer! Acch! Precioussss....