Disclaimers: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. J.R.R. Tolkien does.
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Happy Halloween. :)
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Frodo closed the book. He couldn't read anymore. He just… felt as if he wasn't alone. But he was alone, all alone at Bag End. Bilbo was gone. He left the Shire two years ago. Frodo couldn't help but wonder what happened to him. Was he all right? Was he safe? And if he was safe, why didn't he bring him to Rivendell? Was he meant to stay here?
"Frodo…"
"Frodo…"
"Who's there?" Frodo asked. There were two voices. He felt sure there were two figures present. He looked around the cushioned chair. There was no one present. Maybe he was hearing things.
"Frodo…"
The voice was clear. He looked at the dining room. No one was there… wait. Who were those two hobbits standing in the parlor? They looked familiar.
"Frodo, do not be afraid." The hobbitess said, calmly. Frodo sighed. He knew these two hobbits.
"Mama." Frodo said, stunned. The hobbitess nodded. He turned to the gentle-hobbit. "Papa." The gentle-hobbit nodded. Frodo gulped. "No. It can't be. How are you in my house? You're not… dead? Right?"
"We are dead." Primula said, plainly. "We've always been with you."
"I feel so alone." Frodo said, shocked.
"You're not alone." Drogo answered. "Do not be afraid. We're here to help you. No matter where you go, your mother and I love you."
"Goodbye, Frodo. We'll come again…" Primula paused, watching her husband fade, "…next Harvestmath." She faded, too.
Frodo stayed in the chair for another moment. He couldn't believe it. His parents visited him in one night. He knew one thing: Harvestmath was full of surprises, and this surprise was bliss.
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Thanks for reading. :)