A/N: Hey, everyone. I'm sorry about the wait - I've been completely rewriting chapters, so it's taking a lot longer than I thought it would. Plus with end of school finals and whatnot...
But, I've decided that over the summer I'll work on the entire story. That way when school starts again I won't have to worry about writing a chapter and homework. So, sorry about no updates during the summer :/ But in the fall you'll only have a week's wait between chapters!
Thanks for listening to me babble, enjoy the chapter!
*******BEGIN*******
Frodo woke up in the morning feeling pretty awful. Not that he'd felt considerably good any of the past few mornings he woke up on. Just - today seemed especially terrible. With a groan, he threw off the white coverlet and stood, going to the basin of cold, clean water on his nightstand. After washing his face, Frodo glanced up at the looking-glass. He wasn't even surprised to see the large, bruise-colored circles under his eyes. This past week alone he'd slept for what? Seven, eight hours? Ten tops. He also noted how thin he was getting; not that he had been very large before - he had always been pretty skinny - but now he was brushing unhealthily scrawny. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to care. What was the point in sleeping or eating? Sure, he was tired, he was hungry, but he was alone, and that weighed on him more heavily than hunger or weariness.
Still, Frodo could not denying his protesting stomach much longer. He went out to the kitchen - the small part of his brain that made him take care of himself noted there was a heavy coating of dust on everything. Frodo was just pulling out a frying pan when he felt a hand touch the back on his shoulder. The lad jumped and turned quickly, whacking Sparrow Took on the arm with the frying pan. She didn't even blink; her face remained deadly serious. "We have to talk."
Frodo wasn't exactly sure how to recover from hitting someone with a large piece of metal, especially since any other person would have at least winced in pain and she didn't even look surprised, so he just muttered, "Okay?"
Sparrow pulled a chair over and, by her look, Frodo knew she wanted him to sit. Lowering himself into the chair and putting the frying pan on the table behind him, he folded his hands in his lap as the lass paced back and forth, attempting to gather her thoughts. Finally, she turned and faced him, feet slightly apart and hands clasped at the small of her back. "It's been four months." she stated stiffly.
"Four months since what?" Frodo asked.
Sparrow shook her head. "Don't play dumb; don't make this harder than it needs be." Sparrow waited until Frodo gave a little nod of acknowledgement before she continued: "It's been four months since I last saw you. We've given you your time, but we miss you, Frodo - Sam and I. Even Merry and Pippin are starting to feel the difference." Her expression softened. "We- I," she amended. "I can't stand to see you like this. You have a life, Frodo. Bilbo would want you to live it, not stay locked up in here."
"You make it sound so easy, so simple. But you don't understand, Sparrow," Frodo felt tears spring to his eyes. He wiped them away furiously with the heel of his hand. He wasn't going to cry. Not in front of Sparrow. She never wept and neither would he. "It's like losing my parents all over again." Frodo stood and trailed his hand along the wooden table, his fingers blazing an obvious trail through the heavy dust. "You know, my mother had just found out she was pregnant before she died. Somehow this is so much harder than losing the sibling I never had."
Sparrow put her hand on the lad's forearm. "It's alright to mourn, Frodo, but we can't allow ourselves to get lost in sorrow." She turned Frodo to face her. "Please, get something to eat and come outside. The apples are still in season, we could make a pie. Besides, you look like you haven't seen the sun for years." The redhead smiled slightly to show this was a joke. The expression didn't even come close to reaching her eyes. The pain she felt wouldn't let it.
Seeing this, Frodo knew he couldn't say no to Sparrow. He agreed eventually. While he made himself some toast and tea, Sparrow went to find a basket.
After finishing his breakfast, Frodo pulled on a heavy jacket. Sparrow opened the door, hooked her arm through his, and said, "See? Life's already getting better."
The afternoon proved this statement to be true: the air was a bit brisk, but still rather warm for the month of Solmath. A light dusting of powdery snow covered the Shire gently and most every tree in the orchard was laden with crisp, delicious red apples. Sparrow and he enjoyed the juicy fruits all afternoon as if it were their first time having them. Frodo could have even sworn he laughed when Sparrow threw a tiny snowball at him. The sound hadn't lasted long as, with Sparrow's trajectory, most of the cold snow went down the back of his shirt and an exclamation at the cold replaced it.
Once they filled the basket, the Hobbits headed back to Bag End. They cut up the apples quickly and left them to bake, going to sit by the blazing fire, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. Frodo loved having a friend like Sparrow. Sam was great and all, but, when speaking economically, he was in a lower class, and the gardener made sure Frodo knew it. The Bagginses had always been a wealthy family, and though Frodo couldn't help that, he wished Samwise wouldn't treat him as such.
Sparrow was, however, a Took - another rather special clan of the Shire. But she was also a, uh... free spirit. As she had done for Frodo, she would give you your time; then she would come and tell you, to put it in her own words, to "suck it up." Needless to say, Sparrow often came off as a bit strong to people. Either way, Frodo loved her like a sister. He told her everything, confided even the smallest thing in her, and she never told another soul.
After the apple pie was done, they each had a slice with cream. Sparrow said goodnight to Frodo and headed off. Frodo, for the first time in the last four months, went to bed happier than he could remember.
After Sparrow's visit, Sam seemed to remember Frodo didn't bite. He would come in after working in the gardens and just ask Frodo questions, like how he was doing and whatnot. And, honestly, the lad liked it.
Life continued to go on pretty normally in the Shire in the coming month. There was still talk of Bilbo, but it was usually as a jest. Many would say to someone who was talking crazily, "Oh, you're as mad as that Bilbo Baggins."
Frodo learned to laugh this off, but it bothered him inside. His uncle had never been crazy, just inquisitive. He'd never understood why curiosity and adventures were frowned upon by the Halfling race; if being respectable meant you had to be boring, then by the Valar Frodo would never be respectable!
Frodo's thoughts wandered to the land outside the Shire, how Bilbo was and whatnot. "Hello? Is Frodo Baggins in there?" Sparrow said a bit tersely, snapping her fingers under his nose . Frodo shook himself slightly, realizing he was at the Green Dragon Inn, grabbing tankards of ale for the four Hobbits he was sitting with and himself. Sparrow smiled coldly, leaning on her elbows across the bar, fingers laced under her chin. "I know you were just trying to be nice, but you don't have to ask how my day was if you really don't give a troll's buttocks about it."
"Sorry, Sparr." he said, gathering three tankards into one hand and two in the other. "I was just thinking about Bilbo-"
"Even the dimmest of us could've guess that," the redhead interrupted, trying hard not to roll her eyes but giving him what we nowadays would call a No dip, Sherlock look.
Frodo sighed. "I just hope he's alright."
"He's with the Elves, how couldn't he be?" Sparrow said, placing a comforting hand on his own. She nudged his shoulder playfully and said in a matching tone, "Now you'd best get going, the Gaffer doesn't like his ale cold."
Frodo smiled, heading back to where he was sitting, passing Merry and Pippin as they danced gleefully on a table, belting out at the top of their lungs, "Hey ho, to the bottle I go!
To heal my heart and drown my woe.
Rain may fall and wind may blow.
But there still be -
many miles to go!
"Sweet is the sound of the pouring rain,
and the stream that falls from hill to plain.
Better than rain or rippling brook —" Pippin stepped forward and finished loudly, "Is a mug of beer inside this Took!"
Frodo laughed and applauded as best he could along with the others. Over his shoulder, he heard an older Hobbit - his voice identifying him as the Gaffer, Samwise's father - saying, "There's been some strange folk crossing the Shire. Dwarves and others of a less savory nature. War is brewing; the mountains are fair teeming with goblins." Frodo chuckled slightly at the gossip before turning to see Sam staring across the inn at the barmaid, Rosie Cotton. Sparrow, also a barmaid, tapped Rosie's shoulder and pointed behind them with her chin. Rosie turned and gave the gardener a huge smile.
"Wives' tales and children's stories you're reciting, Gaffer." another elderly Hobbit said matter-of-factly. "You're beginning to sound like that old Bilbo Baggins. Cracked, he was." he added, looking at Samwise.
The Gaffer caught sight of Frodo and said, "Young Mister Frodo, here, why, he's cracking!" The Halfling let out a hearty laugh.
"And proud of it, too!" Frodo grinned, sitting down next to Sam. "Cheers, Gaffer." He passed around the mugs of ale.
"Well it's none of our concern what goes on beyond out borders." The other Hobbit said. Turning to the young Baggins, he continued, "Keep yer nose out of trouble, and no trouble'll come to you."
Frodo gave a little smile to acknowledge and took a large gulp of his drink.
A couple of hours later, Rosie stood at the door bidding everyone farewell.
"Goodnight, lads." Rosie said to Frodo and Sam. Frodo returned the nicety politely; all Sam could do was give a shy smile. The two continued on their way, but Sam stopped when he heard Rosie giggle slightly. He turned to see a very drunk Hobbit coming up from an exaggerated bow. "Goodnight, sweet maiden of the golden ale!" he cried.
Sam turned back with a huff. "Mind who you're sweet talkin'." He muttered.
Frodo chuckled. "Don't worry, Sam." he said comfortingly. "Rosie knows an idiot when she sees one."
Sam stopped again, more immediately this time. He looked crestfallen. "Does she?"
Frodo laughed again and patted Sam's shoulder. They continued walking - mostly in silence - until they got back to Bag End. They bade one another goodnight before parting ways.
With a little sigh, Frodo opened the door. A breeze fluttered through the Hobbit hole, as he closed and locked the door behind him. The small breathe of wind continued. Frodo looked around, puzzled. A window must be open, but he could've sworn he'd closed all of them.
A hand clamped down on the Halfling's shoulder, wheeling him around to see a disheveled Gandalf standing behind him. "Is it secret? Is it safe?" he demanded sharply.
It took Frodo a moment to remember what the wizard was talking about. "Oh," he breathed as the realization hit him. The Hobbit rushed to a chest, threw it open and searched for a second, throwing out a few random little things like a book and quill, then he pulled out a small envelope. Gandalf snatched it from him and immediately turned around and threw it in the fire.
"Hey!" Frodo protested as the envelope burned away to reveal a plain gold ring. Gandalf ignored him, instead grabbing a pair of tongs and saying "Hold out your hand, Frodo." as he reached in and picked up the ring. The lad looked at him incredulously. "It's quite cool," Gandalf comforted. Frodo stretched out his hand, waiting for the burning he knew had to come when the wizard dropped the ring in his hand. But when he did, it was not searing heat that came off the small circle, but an unexpected weight. The Hobbit's hand dropped down suddenly before he adjusted to the unanticipated mass.
Gandalf turned away from him and asked in rapid fire,"What can you see? Can you see anything? Is there anything on it?"
"Nothing, there's nothing..." Frodo said with questioning in his tone. The wizard let out a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived as Frodo correct himself. "Wait, there's writing on it." he turned it about in his fingers, the letters reflecting on to his face. "It's some form of Elvish; I can't read it."
"It is the dark language of Mordor." Gandalf replied, rolling the "R" of Mordor. "Which I will not utter here."
"Mordor?" Frodo questioned, looking away from the ring. He could have sworn he heard faint voices, as if it was whispering to him.
"In the Common tongue it says 'One Ring to bring them all, One Ring to find them. One Ring to rule them all, and in the darkness bind them.'" Seeing Frodo's alarmed look, Gandalf sighed and said, "Why don't you make some tea. I will explain."
After a kettle had been boiled and the Halfling poured out two cups, Gandalf felt ready to expand on what he said earlier. He looked down pointedly at the golden ring in the middle of the table and said, "This is the One Ring forged by the Dark Lord Sauron in the fires of Mount Doom. Isildur took it from the hand of Sauron himself."
Frodo, being the smart lad he is, looked down at the harmless looking jewelry in fear and awe, muttering, "Bilbo found it. In Gollum's cave."
"Yes." Gandalf said gravelly. "For sixty years it has laid quietly in Bilbo's possession, prolonging his life, warding off old age. But no longer. Evil is stirring, Frodo, the Ring has heard its master's call."
"But He was destroyed." Frodo said, jumping to his feet in a rising panic. "Sauron was destroyed."
At its creator's name, the Ring began to whisper in the Black Speech. Both looked at it - Frodo in alarm, Gandalf with the same caution but with curiosity mixed in. Finally the wizard looked up from it. "His physical form was destroyed." Gandalf confirmed. "But Sauron's life force endures. He put so much of Himself in to the Ring that He is now tied to it. The Ring has survived, and so has the Dark Lord. His Orcs have multiplied, His fortress at Barad-Dur has been rebuilt in Mordor. Sauron needs only this Ring to cover all of Middle-Earth in a second darkness. He is seeking it - seeking it, all His thought is bent upon finding it. The Ring yearns to return to its master; they are one, the Ring and the Dark Lord. Frodo, He must never find it." Gandalf added solemnly.
Frodo snatched the Ring off the table and headed down the corridor. "All right, then we put it away. We never speak of it, we never even think of it again. No one else knows it's here." A thought struck the Halfling and he turned about slowly. "Do they?" he asked the wizard.
Gandalf hesitated before answering: "There was one other who knew Bilbo had the Ring. I looked everywhere for him, but the Enemy found the creature Gollum first. I do not know how long they tortured him, but amongst the shrieks and endless inane babble they discerned two words..." he trailed off.
Frodo knew immediately the words in question. Bilbo had told him the story countless times. "Shire. Baggins." he mumbled with dread. "But that would lead them here!" Frodo yelled this last part, thinking not of his own well being but of his friends and the other decent Hobbits in the Sire. He suddenly looked up at Gandalf and thrust the Ring towards him. "Take it, Gandalf!"
"Frodo, please..." The wizard stepped back, and for the first time Frodo could remember, he looked scared.
"Take it!" the Hobbit continued to insist.
"You cannot offer me this Ring,"
"I'm giving it to you!"
"Don't!" Gandalf cried. And all of a sudden, the idea of giants didn't seem so farfetched to Frodo as the wizard straightened to his full height. "Don't tempt me, Frodo. I dare not take it, even to keep it safe. You must understand, even with my desire to do good, I cannot have it: through me, the Ring would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine."
"All right, then- then," Frodo stuttered, thinking of a solution. "Then we throw it away. We could bury it, or maybe toss it in the Brandywine."
"No, Frodo." Gandalf said firmly.
"But it cannot stay in the Shire!" he pleaded desperately.
"No. No, it can't."
Frodo knew what Gandalf was suggesting just by the look in his eyes. The Halfling clenched his jaw firmly and balled his hand around the Ring. "What must I do?" he asked soberly.
"You must leave, and leave quickly." Gandalf handed him a large pack as he continued, "Head for the village of Bree."
Frodo rushed to his wardrobe and started to pull out clothes and shove them in the pack. "Bree?"
"Yes," Gandalf grabbed a shirt and folded it up neatly. Frodo snatched it out of his hands, shook out the folds, and stuffed it in the bag. "Look for the inn of The Prancing Pony. The barkeeper is a good friend of mine. But leave the name of Baggins behind you, it is not safe any more."
"And what of yourself?" the Hobbit asked as he went to the kitchen and packed some food.
"I must go see the head of my order; he is both wise and powerful, he will have some counsel for me." Gandalf helped Frodo in to a cloak then smiled. "Hobbits really are amazing creature. In no time at all, you can learn everything about their ways. But even after years of friendship, they can still surprise you."
Frodo opened his mouth to respond, but a rustle game from the bushes and Gandalf pushed him to the ground roughly. The wizard headed to the window and poked his staff out into the shrubs. "Ow!" cried a familiar voice. Gandalf reached in the bush and pulled out Sam, throwing him on to the table. "Samwise Gamgee," he yelled. "Have you been eavesdropping?!"
Sam opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a few moments before he was able to choke out between scared gasps for breath. "I ain't been dropping no eaves, sir! I was just cutting the grass,"
"A little late for landscaping, isn't it, Master Gamgee." Gandalf speculated. "What did you hear?"
"Oh, uh, uhm, nothing much, and none of it I understood. Just something about a ring, and the Dark Lord, oh and the end of the world." Sam said, obviously trying to pass these words off as nonchalant but not doing the best job of it. "P-please, Mister Gandalf, sir," he added, a quiver coming to his voice. "Don't turn me in to anything... unnatural..."
"Oh?" Gandalf gave a look to Frodo, who was grinning, already able to guess what the wizard was planning.
"I don't understand." Sam muttered to Frodo the next morning as Gandalf led the two out in to the forest, holding the reins of a large, brown horse. "Is he going to punish me?"
"I am punishing you, Samwise." Gandalf said, his keen ears picking up the gardener's worried words. "You shall accompany Frodo to Bree; once you've returned to the Shire, consider yourself thoroughly chastised." A small smile pricked at the corners of his mouth.
Behind them, leaves rubbed against each other noisily to betray another presence. Frodo turned about to see a red haired lass hanging upside down from a low branch, gripping on to it with her knees, her arms folded across her chest, the bag on her back sagging slightly at gravity's pull. "Well then, I hope you plan on punishing me too," Sparrow said crossly. She did a little flip off the branch and brushed her cream hued skirt to work out the wrinkles before continuing: "Because there's no way I'm letting you send these imbeciles - sorry you two, but you are; you can't help it, it's because your males - off alone to Bree."
"How'd you know-" Frodo started before Sparrow cut him off, "I was there last night, I'm just much stealthier than Samwise here." she said. Sam blushed.
Gandalf scowled almost imperceptibly. "I was going to send you on your way, Sparrow," he said irritably. The wizard had never exactly had a fondness for the redhead. She was reckless and got in to fights just for the sake of it. If it weren't for Frodo, she would always be having an argument with someone about one thing or another. "But I cannot let you run that mouth of yours around the Shire. This mission must be a secret one." Gandalf paused, the next words he was about to say grieved him. "I will allow you to come along, but only so Frodo can keep an eye on you."
Sparrow's jaw stiffened. Her hand clenched into fists. "Run my mouth? Listen, old man, if I didn't step in, you'd send these two off to certain death just for the 'greater good'." she snapped, putting air quotes around the two words. "They would die, someone else would find the Ring, and half the Shire would be grieving. What's greater about that? You insolent-"
Frodo hurriedly shoved his hand over her mouth. "You got your permission and I'm glad you're coming along," he hissed in her ear. "But, please, do shut up."
Sparrow pushed his hand off with a huff and a glare at the wizard. "For your sakes." she said to the other Hobbits through clenched teeth, her glare at Gandalf never relenting.
Gandalf nodded, just as much fire in his eyes. "Keep off the roads. Stay in the countryside." he commanded, climbing on to the broad horse. "And keep a close watch on her."
Sparrow started to make a rude gesture but a hard slap from Frodo told her she had better keep her uncouth pantomime to herself. Frodo nodded acknowledgement to the wizard, gripped his walking stick tightly, and the three set off behind Gandalf as he rode off quickly.
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