Another Time and Place

Disclaimer: Tolkien created the wonderful characters and settings, and the story is adapted from Jerri Wilmore's "Out of Exile."

Author's Note: Well, here's another fic...my first chapter fic attempted on my own...I really want to thank JerriWilmore though, for allowing me to post this. Thank you!

Chapter 1: Where the Heart Is

When Frodo Baggins had taken the Elven ship across the sea to the Undying Lands, he had left many things behind. His home, what, after the Quest, had been the remnant of his life, most of his possessions, and what hurt the most, his kin and companions. But above all of that, he had left his Sam, and it was this that caused him his most unbearable pain. Whether it was the guilt of leaving him or the empty place now within his heart he did not know.

Perhaps it was both.

There were other things he had left though, things that were not at all difficult to leave that he was now free of. He no longer had to feel the pain of his wounds every year, and he no longer longed for the Ring, and the memories, though he still carried them, did not shadow his thoughts or torment him anymore. He was healed.

Almost.

Valinor was beautiful, and he loved wandering through its forests and meadows, or walking along the white shore ankle deep in the sea, letting the clear blue water play with his feet. Sometimes he would sleep on the sand, at a safe distance from the rising tide, for he loved the sound of the crashing waves and the crying gulls, as well as watching the sun rise above the sea, spreading its golden arms over the water and causing it to sparkle in the radiant light. It was this sole sight he loved above all others, yet he was lonely, and longed for someone to share it with.

But that someone wasn't there.

He knew that if he simply asked him, Bilbo would also spend a night on the sand and watch the sunrise with him, yet he knew the old hobbit would only do so because he asked, not because he truly wanted to. Years ago, even during the first decade they had lived in this fair land, Bilbo would have loved nothing more than just that, but Bilbo had seen far too many sunrises and sunsets in his life, from both sides of the great sea, and such things had ceased to thrill him like they still did Frodo. Coming to Valinor had made both he and Bilbo young again, but Bilbo was still aged, and Frodo knew better than to ask him and make him feel as if he needed to accompany his beloved cousin.

Gandalf would, but like Bilbo he had seen such sights many times before, and Frodo doubted the sight would enchant the wizard in any such way. He could ask any of the elves, even those he was not acquainted with, and they would comply, of course. They honored him for his accomplishments, and he despised this above all else.

At those times, he longed for the presence of another hobbit, and often the breathtaking colors dancing across the sky as the sun rose caused tears to well up in his eyes and often to cascade down his face. He had been told that there was no pain in Valinor, no sadness, and no tears save those of joy. But Frodo's pain was real, and his sadness deep, and the tears he secretly cried were of pure longing and sorrow.

Frodo new the feeling well, for he had felt it many times before; shortly after his parents had passed away and he had been sent to live in Brandy Hall, shortly after departing for Bree so many years ago, after he had recovered in Rivendell, and many times on the Quest, in the rare moments when his mind was not completely shadowed in fear or darkness or the Ring's dark voice. He was feeling it again now, and he found he could very easily put a name to it.

He was homesick.

It was not so much Bag End, or the Shire he missed, but rather the friends he had left behind. Merry's unwavering courage and patience, and his gullible nature that made him an easy target for jests played on him by younger cousins and siblings. Pippin's child-like innocence, (though, he would no longer be a child, Frodo reminded himself) his mischievous nature and amazing bravery and intelligence, despite Gandalf's "Fool of a Took," and his witty sense of humor he had developed from Merry. And Sam.

He missed Sam the most.

Frodo had told Sam he would follow him when the time came, and he had no doubt that Sam would. He had been and still was the closest person to Frodo. The bond they had shared had not faded over the years, and though Frodo could not know Sam's own thoughts, he could feel that Sam's heart had not forgotten him, and he eagerly awaited the day Sam would come back to him.

He only wished he knew when.

Gandalf had found him one day, sitting on a low branch of a large Mallorn on a high cliff overlooking the Sea. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, where blue water met blue sky, and they held a faraway look, as if he saw things others didn't. The wizard kept his distance at first, not wishing to intrude the hobbit as he sat in his silent reverie, but when

Gandalf saw a single tear slip silently down Frodo's cheek, he stepped forward and laid a hand on the small shoulder.

"Frodo? What troubles you?"

Frodo did not move the slightest, but in a, monotonous voice he replied softly, "My body may be here, Gandalf, but my heart and mind are elsewhere."

The wizard shook his head slowly, sadly, for he knew of what and of whom Frodo spoke. Frodo had come to seek healing, and he had found it, but he still was not at peace.

"Samwise will come," he said.

Still, Frodo did not stir, and in the same flat tone he said, "When, Gandalf? It has been twenty three years since I reached these shores. Time has no meaning here, there is only a here and now, there is no time we can count forward to, and I grow weary of this routine of wandering and waiting."

The wizard sighed. "You told Sam yourself that it was not yet his time to join you, and it may still remain so. When it will be, I cannot say, but it will be when it is."

Finally Frodo tore his eyes from the horizon and turned them upon his old friend. "I am weary of this place, Gandalf," he said solemnly, almost hopefully.

And then, as Gandalf looked upon the tear streaked face he heard the hobbit speak words he hadn't heard him speak since he had found him, lost in a wood near Hobbiton, trying to find his way back to Bag End after a day of exploring.

"I want to go home."

The wizard found he was slightly surprised, but he understood the hobbit's wishes and smiled. "If that is what you wish, then perhaps there is a way."

Frodo's eyebrows arched curiously, furrowed in confusion and then slid to their normal position as they decided to end the battle with the undulating emotions. Gandalf held out his hand, and dazedly Frodo took it, slid of the branch and allowed the wizard to lead him to the fair Elven homes.

TBC

Sorry the chapter is so short...they probably will be until I get the plot developing...Feedback?