"Well, I'm headed over to Bag End to see Frodo." Sam grabbed his cloak off the peg on the wall. For a moment, looking at it, he was caught up in memories of when he had received it from the elves of Lothlorien. "Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people..." Lord Celeborn's words drifted through his head.

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by Rosie's voice as she came down the hall towards him. "Don't forget to dress warmly. There's a chill in the air." She smiled gently, the smile that always warmed Sam from the inside out in every direction. She was carrying the baby in her arms, wrapped in a light blue blanket.

Sam smiled back at her and leaned over to kiss her lightly on the lips before saying, "Of course, dear."

He reached down to say goodbye to the baby, when all of a sudden a voice called out, "I'm coming too!" Sam looked up to see his daughter Elanor come scampering out from the room where she had been playing. Her blonde curls flounced around her as she bounded towards him. "I wanna go see Mr. Frodo, too! Please, Daddy?" She grinned up at, giving him her most endearing and persuasive look.

Sam chuckled, then swooped her up in his arms. "Well..." he started, glancing at his wife.

Rosie just shook her head and sighed, but Sam could tell she was trying to hide her smile. "I suppose so. Trying to keep you two away from that fellow is nearly impossible. Not that I have anything against you seeing him. I only wish you wouldn't fill her head with so many tales of far off adventures. It isn't natural." She shook her head again and shrugged in defeat. "But make sure you bundle up, Elanor. I don't want you catching a cold."

Elanor jumped down from her father's arms and scampered off to find her cloak. When she returned, she produced a cloak that was very worn and closely resembled the one worn by her father.

"Oh, must you wear that old thing? You have plenty of other nicer ones," Rosie started, but the little girl interrupted.

"Of course I must, mother. It's just like Father's… and Mr. Frodo's, and Uncle Pippin's, and Uncle Merry's, and…" She trailed off, not able to remember the names of the others in the fellowship. "Father, will you tell me the story again?" Her green eyes turned to him, sparkling in the afternoon sun streaming in through the window.

Sam crouched down next to his daughter and fastened the clasp on the cloak around her shoulders. "But I just told it to you last week."

"Yes, but I want to hear it again. I want to hear about – about Frodo and the Ring… and Samwise the Brave… and how you went on that long journey, and had adventures and saw faraway lands, and…"

"Alright, alright." Sam smiled, unable to help himself. "I'll tell you on the way over there. But you must promise that once we get there you will behave yourself and try not to ask Mr. Frodo too many questions. If we need to talk, you better run along and play, alright?"

Elanor nodded, the excitement apparent in her little face. "I'm ready. Let's go!" She tugged at her father's hand, anxious to hear her favorite story.

Sam turned towards Rosie and said, "We'll be back in time for supper," before turning and going out the door with Elanor.

As they walked out to the gate, Rosie stood behind them in the doorway, holding the baby closer against the chill. "Remind Frodo not to forget that we're having him over for dinner tomorrow night, and Pippin and Merry as well." Peregrin and Meriadoc had just returned from a visit to the southern lands, and they were anxious to share news about King Aragorn and others in the world of men.

"I won't forget." Sam smiled as he shut the gate behind them. Then, turning, he took his daughter's hand and began.

"Once upon a time, there were four little hobbits..."