It was several days since Bilbo Baggins said his last words. The Three and Lassalanta decided it was finally time for the first step of confronting Frodo. This was Galadriel's role.
She went to him, and he looked up. He was sitting beside a roaring fire, with his and Bilbo's book on a table.
"Hello, fair Lady Galadriel!" he said when he saw her. He stood, moving away from the flames and the book.
"Greetings, Frodo," she responded with cool calm; "I have come to speak with you."
"About what?" he asked curiously. She did not fail to see, yet again, the lust-filled glow in his bright azure eyes. His neck seemed quite bare without Evenstar, which could have warmed his thoughts better than the fire that was present in his hut.
"It concerns Lady Lassalanta Leaf-fall." her tone was gentle.
"Lassalanta?" Frodo inquired eagerly, the light in his eyes suddenly brighter. "What about her?"
Galadriel hesitated before speaking, selecting her choice of words carefully. "She is full of deception," she said finally; "she tends to lead others into places where things that none can be sure of lurk. They say Death never fastens its pointed fangs into her neck. She is devious, sly, cunning." Her eyes glittered at Frodo, adding to the warning.
"Worry not, dear Lady," he said, an indistinctive low purr in his voice. "I shall not be tricked by her."
"Oh no?" she queried, eyes sparkling at him. "She loves none, they say, and she kills all who try to love her. She is rumored to have a brilliant reward for those who survive her treachery, although none have found out what it is. There are dark secrets in the places she leads others to."
"I shall never think of it." Frodo assured her.
But Galadriel knew she had touched upon his curiosity, thus triggering his lust. She went on, smoothly, "I do hope you are not tempted...for she is radiant and beautiful..."
"I shall never think of it!" Frodo said again. Yet a smirk twitched on his lips, and awoke in his heart a great thirst that showed in his eyes.
"Be sure of that," she said sternly. "For she is dangerous, despite her rewards." With a soft smile she exited his hut, knowing she had succeeded in her task. The next step would soon commence.
Not long after she had left the place, a strong aroma came to her nostrils, and she flared them. She heard faintly the crackling sound of sharp tongues of flame greedily licking and consuming paper. A cloud of black smoke drifted from the hut as if some sort of spirit. Then it dispersed, and with it went the last of two lives.
For Frodo had burned his and Bilbo's book.
