Wow. I have been meaning to post this FOREVER, but life has been incredibly in the way. Sorry for such the wait, I didn't intend it! Hope you enjoy!


Anywhere but the Shire


After Mayline turned and fled down the trail, Frodo walked numbly back into Bag End. He passed the pieces of glass and flecks of tea that made it as far as the foyer and continued down the dark hallway. Frodo approached the room he had put Mayline in the night before, but his steps continued until the room he reached was his own.

Inside, he shut the door behind him, and any remaining trace of the sun disappeared. The room was dark as it was one of the few without a window, but at the moment, it suited him. Frodo found his bed and slid beneath the sheets, burying his head beneath the pillows.

Darkness was all he needed now.


It was evening in the Shire when Sam finally had enough of wondering. Pippin had filled him in on the details of his plan the night of the party, and all day he had expected to see Frodo and Mayline going about Hobbiton, arm in arm with nothing but grins on their faces. But as it were, he hadn't seen a glimpse of either of them.

After seeing Mayline again, certainly Frodo would have returned to himself and taken to the outdoors as he had before the War. The sun had lowered behind the trees when Sam at last set out for Bag End, wondering why his fantasy hadn't played out.

When he reached the trail he followed it up, but saw no lights flickering on the inside in preparation for the night. Curiously, Sam paused in front of the door before letting himself in.

Bag End seemed empty, yet he knew somewhere Frodo was hidden. As he stepped further inside he stopped when he saw pieces of the broken tea cup and the mess of the Rivendell tea, the smell now lingering heavily in the air. Frowning, none of it was a good sign, and Sam continued on.

Every room was dark and so was the one that belonged to Frodo, but Sam stopped and decided he should look inside anyway. After lighting one of the lanterns in the hall, he opened the door and peeped his head in. Light spilled across the bed, and he saw a shape beneath the sheets. One of Frodo's hands was exposed—tightened into a fist.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam said quietly.

There was no answer, but the shape beneath the sheets stirred. Sam stepped further inside and approached Frodo's bedside. For a moment he stood in silently, not sure what else to say, until:

"She hates me, Sam."

Frodo's voice was hardly audible as it came from beneath the pillows. Sam blinked.

"What did ya say?"

At length, Frodo slowly pulled the pillow from his head. He peered at Sam briefly, and the light behind his blue gaze was dull.

"Mayline," he said, his voiced pained. "She hates me."

Frowning, Sam sunk down and sat on the side of the bed. "That's a lie, if I ever heard one. Mayline could never…"

"She does—I'm too late. Our timing has always been off… I know I took a lot of it for granted."

After an entire day heavy with depression and thought, Frodo made sense of all Mayline's behavior, and found that he agreed with her. He shouldn't be the hurt one, it seemed. Not after all the time carelessly lost.

"What happened?" Sam said lowly. "Pippin told me you two rekindled but I couldn't get much more outta him."

At that, Frodo pulled himself up. He leaned back against the pillows and his gaze was to the side.

"We did and I told her Sam—I finally did. I said I loved her and she felt the same way, but this morning she could barely look at me."

"She was here last night?"

"She fainted after we met and I brought her back here. I realize now I should have carried her back to her aunt's hole… but I thought waking up in Bag End would be a pleasant surprise."

Frodo grabbed the sheets and started to bury himself again, but Sam stopped him.

"What went wrong?" he asked earnestly. "You still haven't spilled that part yet. Why aren't the two of you together now? As it was always meant—"

Frodo sighed and finally brought his gaze to him. "She's engaged Sam, and to someone who doesn't waste time. I don't know if it's to a hobbit of the Shire or not, but I suppose it doesn't matter. I'm in love with her… nothing can be done about it now."

Sam sighed, heavily. The falling out was not the news he wanted to hear, but somehow, it wasn't so surprising. Frodo cast his gaze into the dark as the reality of Bag End faded. He was lost to a memory, and at length, his quiet voice brought Sam from his thoughts.

"Would it have been better if…"

Sam waited, but Frodo didn't continue. He swallowed.

"Would what have been better if…?"

Dread slowly creeped on him as he somehow knew the answer wasn't going to be a good one. Frodo continued to stare distantly and his hand went to his neck. But the smooth silver chain that had long rested there was gone.

"…if I had let go. If I had shared the same fate as Gollum."

Sam blinked, and frowned as he discovered his fears to be right. Of course he didn't believe things would have been better if Frodo had not taken his hand. If he had instead condemned himself to the fiery pit once so hot and devouring beneath them.

Sam almost shared the obvious feelings swelling beneath his chest, but Frodo was still somewhere far off, and no answer would reach him.


Mayline and Della were in a fit of laughter as they walked with their arms linked to the front door of their aunts' hole. Bomar and Aunt Taura followed behind them, leftover smiles on their faces from a rather embarrassing story Bomar had just shared about his band mate, Demir.

Mayline took her cloak from a peg on the wall and slung it over her shoulders as Bomar did the same. He picked her bag up from the floor handed it to her. Smiling, Mayline accepted it and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you."

Della sighed dramatically. "You two are adorable."

Mayline smirked. "We can't help it."

With a slight grin Bomar rolled his eyes. It was only his duty to do the gentlemen things.

"Well it was lovely to finally meet you Bomar," Aunt Taura said warmly. "Please make sure Mayline brings you back again. Will the wedding be here in the Shire?"

There was a pause as Mayline and Bomar peered at one another. Although they had agreed to have it in Buckland and Mayline's mind hadn't changed, the questioning look in Bomar's eye caused her to furrow her eyebrows.

"I thought I mentioned we'll be having it Buckland," Mayline said slowly, turning her head back toward her aunt.

Aunt Taura blinked. "Oh that's right, I suppose you did."

Della nodded. "Buckland has some beautiful spots for a spring wedding, depending on when you two set the date."

"After the party, I'm sort of impressed with the pastures here," Bomar interjected. "I don't think they're as large or lush in Buckland, and if the date isn't too far, we could marry here, just as fall begins."

His gaze had fallen on Mayline. She stood with her arm linked in his, at a loss of what to say.

There was only so much he didn't know, and so much she wanted to get away from. And if another day could pass without having to confess it all, the more she would prolong it. But before she could say anything, Aunt Taura spoke up.

"Clearly you two still have much to think about," she said with a smile. "But it doesn't matter where you decide to have it—I'll certainly come either way."

Aunt Taura stepped forward and hugged Mayline, kissing her on the cheek. She embraced Bomar and soon Della came forward and pulled them all into a group hug.

"Blessings to my lovely sister and soon to be charming brother-in-law," she said.

Mayline grinned and hugged her before she and Bomar turned toward the door. She opened it and the cool night air hit her at once, causing her to take most of it in in a deep breath. Bomar slipped his arm around her waist, and after waving to her aunt and sister, the door closed and they set down the road.

Once at the inn, they would sleep until their ferry ride to Buckland in the morning.

"Is your heart really set on being wed in Buckland?" Bomar said quietly, at length. "If it is, don't let me—"

Mayline stirred from her daydreams and looked at him.

"No," she cut in. "I mean, we're in this together. We should both be happy with where the wedding is."

Bomar nodded. "The smials are especially nice here too. With my cut of the money, we could even…"

Mayline slowed to a stop, and so did Bomar. They stood a foot or so apart, searching each other's gazes.

"…live here?"

She finished his thought, and it hung in the air between them. Bomar blinked.

Before he could respond, footsteps approached them. They watched as a hobbit neared in the distance, and when he was close enough, Mayline's eyes widened and a smile touched her mouth.

"Merry!"

Merry stopped no less than a yard away and grinned. He was dressed normally, and as to what his errand was at this hour, she couldn't tell.

"Mayline! Fancy catching you again."

Merry's eyes flashed to Bomar, and for a half a second, he thought she was on an evening stroll with Frodo.

"Who is this?" he asked, trying to hide his surprise at the resemblance.

Bomar smiled and stepped forward. He offered his hand.

"Bomar Sackville-Baggins."

Merry blinked and shook his hand. "Sackville-Baggins did you say?"

Bomar nodded. "It's alright—if you've met them I'm nothing like my kin."

Merry smiled and relaxed. "Wouldn't be right of me to assume the worst of you so soon. What are you two doing at this hour?"

Mayline grinned. "We just left my aunt's, and I could ask the same for you."

Merry shrugged. "Just on my way to Pip's."

A subtle breeze picked up, and Mayline decided it was then she'd spill the news.

"This might come as a bit of a shock Merry, but—Bomar and I are actually going to be married soon. We're not sure on the date or place, but it's all fairly new."

A silence fell as Merry stepped back, unsure what to say. Mayline came up against Bomar's side and he put his arm across her shoulders, hoping the hobbit he'd just met wasn't about to faint.

"Congratulations," Merry said at last, sincere but also a little curious. "Does Fro—"

At the sudden look on Mayline's face he stopped instantly.

"Well we should be off Merry," she said quickly. "We've got a long trip back to Buckland early tomorrow morning."

Merry blinked. "You're leaving?"

She nodded.

"You can't leave tomorrow, why you haven't even heard about our quest. Best one of all, if I do say so. Come on Mayline—Bomar, you should both stay to hear it."

Mayline opened her mouth to protest, but Bomar spoke first.

"We don't have to leave tomorrow morning," he offered. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind staying here longer." He looked at Mayline. "Sounds like this would be a good chance for me to meet everyone you know, especially if they've all returned from something exciting."

Merry grinned. "I suppose you could call it exciting, but really there's not a single word that can cover it all. What do you say, Mayline? The rest of us must have the chance to meet your fiancé."

She stood stiff, clutching Bomar's arm. Merry was staring eagerly at her, and she knew Bomar would be pleased with only one end of the decision. She sighed, but the tension in her shoulders mounted.

"Let's stay," she said with a faint smile. "I do need to hear the tale Merry and I shouldn't put it off—not after a year of wondering."

"Then it's settled," he replied. "You two go back to the inn and get a good night's rest. I'll tell Pip that we need to arrange a night of good food and stories soon."

Mayline nodded numbly and Bomar shook his hand again, grinning. With that, Merry waved, and continued down the road.