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

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Yes, I'm taking on the Diary cliché. This one should be fun, or so I hope. It's also an attempt at writing a diary, too. Here we go. :) Thanks goes to Boots Are Made For Walking for beta-reading this story. It is much appreciated. :)

This is also the last cliché I work on for my Clichés with a Twist series. Just for the series. I might get back to the clichés more like in my leisure time, not for any part of a series. Thank you for reading these stories. Cheers! :)

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September 22nd, 3021 Third Age, or T.A.

Dear Diary,

It is a heartfelt goodbye to the best companion a hobbit could ever have. My maimed hand hands to Samwise Gamgee, the brown-haired hobbit who has been with my all the way to Mordor and back, the red journal that I inherited from Bilbo Baggins, the elderly hobbit who is now aboard the elegant elven ship ready to set sail. I embrace Sam with a tender heart and fond memories.

It is time for me to set sail on this new journey. I have long since grieved leaving Middle-earth. A tear threatens to leave my eyelid, but I brush it away before anyone notices… wait. Did Gandalf notice my tears? The white wizard with a staff as pure as the pearl stone. I grin with fond delight, relishing this moment. Of course, Gandalf wishes me to stay, but… my heart needs healing, as do my wounds. I cannot stay in Middle-earth now. Not when there's a chance of healing me. I must take this journey.

I bid my friends one last goodbye, but it is not a forever goodbye. I will see them again. Yes, I will. For now, there is this journey, but as I write in this journal, I can only imagine that my journey has now begun…

"Frodo!" Bilbo cries, "Come and help me with this biscuit."

It is a very tricky biscuit.

September 23rd, 1 Fourth Age, or F.O. – Gandalf told me and Bilbo it is now the Fourth Age of Middle-earth.

Dear Diary,

It is my first official day out at sea. The clear, crystal water and the white foam coming off the waves eases my mind a little. Middle-earth is in the distance now. And yet, my mind seems clear with a new purpose… or so I thought.

Tears threaten to smear my face, as if knowing what they need to do. I cannot help it. I am bedridden, but not from illness. I thought the tears had stopped. I said my goodbyes to Sam. Why then do I feel so cold? I barely manage to write in my diary today. This diary. Should I fear for my own end? I know I didn't… this wound aches! Oh, if only I had seen better days, I would be different.

Am I different? Well, that is a question, isn't it? Oh, where is Sam now? What is he and Rosie doing? They have a family. I should be happy. I am happy. But then… oh, this blasted wound! Won't it stop? Won't it… stop!

September 23rd, 1 F.O. – Later in the Evening

Dear Diary,

I just barely made it out of the sickness. I am all right now. It is nearing midnight. I should be happy that I am all right, but… I feel so tired. I should sleep. Yes. Sleep sounds good right now.

September 24, 1 F.O.

Dear Diary,

I am growing seasickness. I mean, I am seasick. I just vomited again over the railing. I am all right now, but… must be a side effect of my wounds. Then again, Gandalf told me I needed to find a healer as soon as we arrive on Tol Eressëa. Good. I need a healer. Oh no! Not again!

Whoo. I'm lucky I didn't vomit on this diary. Oh, excuse me, will you?

September 25, 1 F.O.

Dear Diary,

I am just now over my seasickness. Maybe. No, no! Not again. Not again – oh great. Well, my vomit didn't touch this book. That is good. Maybe it would be better that I write again when I'm not feeling so queasy.

September 27, 1 F.O.

Dear Diary,

I just managed to get better. Bilbo checked my forehead. As did I. It's still hot and feverish, but all I can see now are wood paneled walls, elegant wood furniture. Even my bedframe is made to look like an elegant vine. At least that eases my mind. I'll be so glad to get off this ship.

When do we arrive on Tol Eressëa?

September 28th, 1 F.O.

Dear Diary,

I don't know what just happened. Eru Ilúvatar, whose shimmering light and whose invisible hands stretched forth over me, found a way to ease my seasickness and my fever. Just enough to get off this boat and onto the white shores that belongs to Tol Eressëa.

A healer came right away today and cured me of my seasickness. My fever broke. I feel a little better. But I know I have a long way to go before I'm healed. Here's hoping this island does just that and cures me of all my injuries.

September 30th, 1 F.O.

Dear Diary,

My fever's gone at last. Even as I stand out on the white balcony in the healer's house, all I can say is my journey to reach Tol Eressëa has come to its end.

Let the healing process begin.

End of Diary Entries

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Thanks for reading. :)