Disclaimers: All canon material for anything written about Middle-earth, including The Lord of the Rings trilogy, belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Inspiration for this story goes to Secret Garden's song "Sleepsong". All original material, including Frodo's poem, inspired by J.R.R. Tolkien's poetry, belongs to the author of this fanfiction story.

Honestly, I have been itching to write a one-shot for the hobbit Frodo Baggins for a while now, but I couldn't figure out what to write about. This is canon, but since it's on Tol Eressëa, it will have originality to it. Plus, the idea came up when I was listening to Kili's Sleep Song on YouTube, which inspired me to write this one-shot. The idea began as random, but we'll see how well I do. You could say this is an unexpected companion piece to DoctorWhovian18's How to Save a Life, but this is more of a stand-alone piece.

Frodo Baggins dipped his quill into the ink bottle, laden with fresh ink. It had been two months since his arrival on Tol Eressëa. His uncle, his cousin actually, Bilbo Baggins was away from the house the Elves had built for him and Frodo, as he wanted to catch up with Elrond and other Elves, maybe grant them a poem or two of his own making. So Frodo ended up house-sitting, which he didn't need to do, but wanted to this morning.

Frodo was considered fairer and taller than the average hobbit, with bright eyes and a cleft in his chin. Like most hobbits, Frodo had curly brown hair on his head and the tops of his feet. Gandalf considered him a perky chap, or so he was perkier before the Ring took him. He felt relief for his healing, the effects of the Undying Lands showing most when he stood on the island's shore, where the waters sprayed and crashed along the white sandy beach.

True, Frodo had left the Red Book Bilbo gave him to Samwise Gamgee, his closest friend since the Quest to Mordor. Ever since the journey, the bonds of friendship between Frodo and Sam had grown strong and would stay that way, as long as Frodo did not forget Sam and he hoped that Sam would not forget him. But Frodo was now on Tol Eressëa, hoping to be healed of his wounds.

And while he told himself over and over again that he would not find a wife, mainly because she would be burdened with taking care of him due to his illness, something he considered the main reason for not marrying, the thought pressed in his mind. If he wanted to find a wife… oh, the thought was relentless. If only he could find peace, but then, what could he do? Who would he possibly share all his secrets? He couldn't tell Bilbo everything. Even though he trusted Bilbo and knew Sam, he felt as if he was weighed down. There truly were some things he couldn't entrust, even to his closest friends. Sam was right: he would think about finding a wife and Bilbo didn't mind much what befell him on this great mission.

Still, he wanted to write down something. So Frodo began to write a poem, declaring his ever-pressing thoughts on the need to find a wife… even going as far as making a list on what he believed a wife should be. But this was his opinion. Moving away from his thoughts, wanting to get everything down, Frodo wrote his poem:

The steady raindrops tell me
How to find a wife.
Should she be as gentle as an elf,
As graceful as their kin?

How I long to ask this question,
As deep and as long as a river.
But still my heart bears this burden,
Of the weight of my quest.

In the end, I must concede.
The journey to find a wife
Is a lot harder than it seems.
And yet I must press on.

My life has gone unneeded
For many years or so. The journey
Takes its toll on me, the quest
not long ago.

And yet I stand here upon the doorstep,
Longing to see the day. When all is said and done,
My heart will not keep still. And yet there am I
Standing on the threshold, with nowhere to turn.

My heart is longing for a wife, and yet I must say no.
But that is only one reaction. There's more to tell,
More to turn to, more to go. Sam was right:
I need to find a wife.

"That's not my list," said Frodo, looking over the poem. He still couldn't believe he wrote all of that. He had to admit he had courage for writing this poem.

Bilbo returned to the house. Entering the study, Bilbo asked, "How goes the writing?"

"Bilbo, will you look at this poem for me?" asked Frodo, still stunned at his words. "I just wrote it."

Taking the parchment from Frodo's hands, Bilbo read the poem silently to himself. He could admit it was very well-written and straight to the point. Passing the parchment back, Bilbo asked his nephew and cousin, "Are you sure you're ready to go through with it? Marriage is a big step, my lad."

"Yes, but… Sam was right. I don't know where the road will take me," said Frodo. "Will I ever find her?"

"Ask the elves. I would. Maybe they'll find her for you," said Bilbo, leaving the study.

It was a good idea, Frodo thought. Maybe he could find her. But where? How? It was only a matter of time, and yet he knew, there was no stopping his heart. His destined love was out there, but where would he begin? That was the question that remained in his thoughts.

And that's it. I'm currently debating on whether to leave this as a one-shot story on its own or as a three-shot. If you have any questions, concerns or anything else, feel free to send me a review and/or a PM on what you thought of this story. Okay, bye!