Lily fell asleep that night upset and confused. She was sinking into her old melancholies again, and she couldn't understand why. Frodo is back, isnt that what I wanted? Lily thought to herself. Why am I like this?  She kept thinking to herself. She looked over at Frodo, sleeping soundly. She kissed him lightly on his head, and crawled out of bed. She crept silently to the den, and sat in front of the dying embers of the fire. She had never felt so upset, except when Frodo left. She looked at the calendar and saw that it was March 13. 'Damnit. Frodo's going to love today.' she mumbled to herself. 'Eh, what am I going to do today? I hate March 13th.'

Lily wondered if maybe her melancholy was caused by a want to see her homelands again. 'But they caused me so much pain. Everyone and everything. How could I go back?'

'But you need to see what its like now. Maybe it's changed. You don't know that.' said a little voice in her brain.

'But I can't leave Frodo and Pip and Gala and Alexiae. They won't understand.'

'But you can make them. You should leave the day after tomorrow.' said the little voice inside her brain. And this time she listened. She watched the fire die out completely, and then walked to her bedroom, and crawled into bed next to Frodo.

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March 13th came without a vengeance for Frodo. His body was wracked with pain and the mists of meaninglessness and nothingness. Pippin went off in search of Sam, while Lily, Gala, and Alexiae tended to Frodo.

'Mother, is Frodo all right? He's starting to scare me.' Gala inquired nervously.

'Don't worry Gala; your father will be all right. He's just...very sick right now. But he'll be better by tomorrow, so don't worry.' Lily said, trying to sound cheerful, when cheerfulness was the farthest thing from her mind.

A second later (and not a moment too soon), Samwise Gamgee came bursting through the door. 'How is Mr. Frodo doing Ms. Baggins?'

'Sam, he's doing pretty bad, but why do you keep addressing him and me as if you were a servant?' Lily asked, wondering.

'Force of habit, Lilith.' Sam said as Lily cringed at her true name. 'But is he still alive and breathing?'

'Still alive and breathing, but mumbling about Mordor and Orodiuin. Smèagol too. Keeps going on about Smègols's trickery.' Lily finished with a sigh.

'Oh well, I might as well attend to him,' Sam began, 'and by the way Galadrielle, Fro is looking for you. He's down at number 13.'

'Thanks Mr. Gamgee.' Gala said with a smile, and skipped off to number 13 New Row.

But at Bag End, there was no skipping or even happiness while Sam and   Lily feverishly watch Frodo slip into the shadow world. Lily tried talking to him, to make him feel better inside, but he was too far-gone to acknowledge or even care what she was saying. 'There is no hope for Middle-earth, everything is barren...sharkey...SHARKEY!' Lily could get that much from Frodo the whole day.

She fell asleep in bed next to him after his fever broke at about 1 in the morning. She offered Sam a bedroom, but he said that he best be getting back to Rosie; he had left her all day with little Primrose. As she fell into that dream world, she had decided: I am going to tell him tomorrow. I must go to the Northern Waste. She mumbled that to herself as she fell asleep.