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

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I'm feeling very Halloween-ish again. Watch out for vampires! Hobbit vampires. Muahahahahah! :)

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Amalia Lyndsey was a normal hobbit with normal responsibilities. She lived and breathed her artwork. Yes, it was very vampiric. Well, her dark desires might have led her down the familiar sane paths anyone would take… as long as they were about hobbit vampires. At times, she would paint something fantastic, like roses. Oh, how she loved roses. They matched her locks of brown hair well, if not giving her that spring in her step.

Okay, so she was beyond normal. But any sane person would know that hobbit vampires were a mystery, a thing of the past. Right? And hobbits had a peculiar appetite for her work… as long as they were about flowers. Reality stunk. She found herself working in the market, selling bread to help out her father. They needed the money. And she thought selling her artwork would help out, too. If only hobbits could see what talent she had towards the supernatural.

Wait. There was a hobbit with curly brown hair and a keen interest in paintings. His blue eyes were striking to behold. His fair features elvish in nature. And his clothes… he certainly had an appetite for wearing showy hobbit clothes. Wait. That was Frodo Baggins. He looked stunning, if she said so herself. And he was coming straight towards him. Was that a silver ring on his finger?

"Hmm." He took a good hard look at one of the paintings. She drew him well, and she didn't know him. Just caught glimpses of him. "You seem to have missed the eyes. My eyes aren't brown." He smiled at her.

"You still look good to me, sir." Amalia said, smiling. "I'm sorry. Have we met before?"

"No. But I am interested in your talents." He said, still grinning at her. "Meet me at Bag End. Bring your father along. I'd like to meet you both." He kissed her hand, staring deep into her eyes. He turned away, announcing in a melodic voice. "You're all invited to my party tonight! Wear red and black. I intend to make this a frightful celebration." He chuckled. He looked away, but not before giving her another kiss, this time on the cheek. "I've been waiting for you, Amalia."

She froze. How – how did he know her name? That didn't matter. She'd was grateful to have his company. A Baggins inviting her to his celebration and to bring her father along. She felt sure she could manage finding a red dress at home.

"Darling, who was that?" Her father asked her.

"Frodo Baggins, of all people." She sighed, dreamily. "He invited me to come to his house, for his party. He invited you, too, father."

"I do hope it's good." He said, worried. "Any party that a Baggins puts on is bound to cause trouble. Especially at Bag End."

"Why? What's wrong?" Amalia asked, confused.

"He's a vampire." Her father told her. "Be careful."

"I'm of age, father." Vampire or no, she was not missing Frodo's party.

"You know the risks. Any vampire that seduces my daughter is going to have to face me first." He said, readying his wooden crossbow.

"Oh father. How bad could this party be?" She had no idea how right those words were, until it was too late to turn back.

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Bag End was packed by the time Amalia and her father arrived by carriage. Her father donned all black hobbit clothes, while his daughter was dressed in the fairest red gown she could find. A deep red rose was attached to one sleeve, while the other sleeve had gold roses embroidered into the fabric. If anyone chose to wear a ball gown, it was her.

She would not miss this party for anything.

The crowd parted as they made their way into the parlor. There was Frodo, advancing towards her. Her father moved out of the way, leaving her alone and confused. She didn't understand. What was going on?

"What's happening? Why is everyone staring at us?" Amalia asked Frodo, as she fell into a waltz with the gentle-hobbit.

"This party is for you. It's for us." Frodo said, only to her ears. He announced a moment later, "We're all invited here!" The crowd laughed. Even Amalia's father laughed, before retracting his gaze. This did not make any sense.

"Is everyone under a spell?" Amalia hastened to ask him.

The gentle-hobbit chuckled. She could now glimpse at his rather elegant black and gold clothes. They looked so divine.

"Are you casting a spell on me?" She asked.

He chuckled deviously. "Why? Is it working?"

"You're a hobbit. Aren't you?" She asked, pressing him further with questions.

"I'm what you call a vampire." He whispered in her ear. He spoke a little louder. "And I'm a hobbit. I'm what you call… a vampire hobbit." He grinned. "I've got my eye on you. It'll be very difficult for me to part with you now, my bride."

She gulped. She was falling for his spell. The yearning to stay close to him was drawing to a close. And yet, she felt so drawn to him. She wanted to be his… she remembered the bread. Her father. Her life. If he turned her into a vampire now, she would never see her old life again. She glanced away, hoping the spell wore off. Why were vampires so enticing? When she drew them, she had this fascination that wouldn't abate. Now that she'd seen one with her own eyes, she was forced to question herself. Was this truly the right path? She mustn't look at Frodo. She mustn't….

….she barely managed to look away. Frodo's hand gripped her waist, pulling her in. She was too far drawn in to stop. There was no other choice. It was just them. She felt faint. Her heart raced inside her chest. This was the moment she had been waiting for. The moment he sunk his teeth into her throat, penetrating the skin. Her life reached its last. Her eyes widened, embracing the light. She was with her mother in heaven, enduring another life filled with peace and hope. All thanks to Frodo biting her neck.

The End.

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Thanks for reading. :)