The wind blew, rustling the lone hobbit lad's hair. He looked up, the wind stinging his moist eyes. It had been one year since their death – one long, miserable year. Frodo stood, trailing along the shore of the Brandywine. Everywhere he saw them. One second they were young and he was just a small child playing with a ball as they had a picnic, the next it was them departing for that fateful boat trip.
Frodo saw someone in the distance, but immediately lowered his head again, eyes toward the ground before him. The pants he wore bore a patch. Emotions grew within as that simple sight sparked memories of his mother.
"Where in Middle Earth have you been?" Primula asked, right hand resting on her hip.
Frodo looked up at her, blue eyes threatening to well up with tears and lower lip puckering out. "I'm sorry, mum," the young lad answered. "I'm sorry…"
"Sorry for what, Frodo?" Primula asked, melting at her son's expression.
"I ripped my trousers…"
"Oh?" Primula got on her knees carefully, holding her back as she did so. She looked down at his trousers, which reached just above the knee. 'He'll need a new pair soon,' she noted. She grabbed the material, examining the size of the hole – not too bad, repairable. "Tell me how?"
"Dudo and I were climbing trees and a string caught on a branch," he explained. "Oh, mum! We tried so hard, but we couldn't get it loose, not without unraveling the strings." He looked down at the hole, where his mother stuck her fingers through.
Primula let out a silent laugh as she let go of the material, putting her hands on either side of her face and wiping his eyes with her thumbs. "Frodo, lad, don't worry. Oh!" she said, putting a hand to her belly.
Frodo had been calming and the tears subsiding, but the tears, this time of fear, came back as he saw his mother do that. "Are you alright?" he asked, putting a hand gently on his mother's shoulder.
"Yes, Frodo," she said with a smile. She blinked. She was in pain, but she would not let him know it. "He-he just kicked is all," she said, voice light and worried. "See?" she said, placing his hand to her belly. "Feel it?"
Frodo scrunched his face in confusion. He did not feel a thing! "Mum?" he cried, tears filling his eyes and affecting the tone of his voice.
"Shh…" she said, pulling him toward her, and he rested his face on her shoulder. The two cried together, though Primula only for a few seconds. She could not allow herself to panic in front of him. "It's going to be alright, my boy. It's all going to be just fine."
Frodo sighed, letting loose the tension he felt within his body. His shoulders quaked and he dropped to the ground.
"Frodo!" the figure cried running toward him. "Frodo? What's the matter."
"They're gone…" he explained, his voice a low moan. Suddenly his voice rose. "They're gone, Uncle Sara…all of them!"
"Frodo?"
"She lost him – we lost him – and now I've lost them. They're really gone…"
Saradoc looked at his nephew with a look of sorrow on his face. His nephew had been through so much in the last year, and he had not been able to be there as much as he should. "Frodo, I'm so sorry," he told Frodo quietly, pulling him into a hug.
Frodo drew away and walked a few steps away, his back turned. "It hurts…so bad, right here." He pointed to his throat where indeed it did hurt as he attempted to keep back his sobs.
Saradoc walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. "Let it out, Frodo, let it out."
"But I have been, Uncle – for a year! It's not any better…nothing helps, nothing makes the pain go away. Will it ever?"
"Frodo," Saradoc replied quietly, as his nephew turned to face him and wrapped his arms around him. Saradoc was a bit surprised, as Frodo normally did not rely on anyone, but here he was now, and Saradoc was more unsure than ever what to say, so he simply held him. He hoped he realized that there were people who cared, who wanted to see him smile again. He looked down at Frodo, backing him away from him a bit. "Frodo, I can't tell you how long your grief will last, but I can tell you this. Your aunt and I are here for you. We love you, Frodo, and we want to see you happy again." He kneeled so Frodo would not have to look up at him. "Don't bottle your feelings up inside any longer, alright?"
Frodo looked into his uncle's eyes. Words could not express the bit of happiness that welled in his heart at his uncle's words. So, he stood there, letting him know that he was thankful in the only way he could think of right then – a hug.