Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.

Shirebound: I always wondered what sort of healing it would be and reckoned that it would to forget. I thought that might be why so few people came back. Well, er, one came back. I am so sorry! Arg! I knew I would get something wrong. Of course he met Bilbo. Maybe only fleetingly but...oh! Damn!

The Lazy Fairy: Oh, you don't need to bow- you send me lovely reviews!

MagicalRachel: I'm always calling my mum unsupportive but I guess that she doesn't want me to get too big for my boots. Glad you liked the extracts- they were fun to do. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to echo what you're doing! Post it on Fanfiction! Post it!

TigerLily713: Thank you! I'm writing, I'm writing. My life consists of bus, school, car, TV, homework, WRITING WRITING, food, bed, repeat. There must be more but only every twelve millennia or so.

TrueFan: *gazes at review* That...? *shuddering sigh* I fear your longer ones! My word- that review is huge! I'm pleased that you enjoyed the part with Legolas and Gimli- I liked the idea of them just lounging around the royal chambers, reading, generally being friends. Oh and that Arwen part, well, I like it when she says lots of meaningful stuff. Not many people like her in the movie but I thought she was nice in the book, so what if she got a bit extra. And thank you so much for including me on your Favourite Authors page! That is really sweet and I don't deserve it. No, I've never got a real flame, though the ever famous The Evil Old Woman did criticise one of my pieces though. Thank you for signing my guest-book!

????: Ah, that's alright. I just think that if people take the time to read my stories and comment on them then it's the least I can do to answer. I see what you mean about Faramir, the movie did not see him as quite as heroic as in the book. Just a little depressed. And yes, your ideas are great! More Rosie "slush" to come!

Holly Wood: Teehee. If you read the reviews for Lost in Moria, you'll see that almost every single one mentions my cliffhangers. I've been attempting to avoid them so far but you know, sometimes I can't resist. ;-)

Helga: Yeah- its fun to catch a fic while it's going. And I am so pleased that it makes so many people happy. It is just an amazing amount of fun!

~ Chapter Thirteen ~

Emáten had slept very little. Not only was it the thought of sharing the same house as the Ringbearer but also the bed was too small for him. Now he sat on the edge of the mattress, feeling it sag alarmingly beneath him. I must be the luckiest man alive, he thought, I have found the Ringbearer after so many years. I have spoken with a Golden Eagle and been given refuge by Lord Samwise himself...Sam, I must remember to call him Sam.

There was a knocking on the door. He looked up.

"Come in."

A small face peered round the door; her sky-blue eyes lit up. Emáten smiled at her and she darted behind the door only to return a few minutes later. She walked into the room and cocked her head on one side, examining the man.

"Mummy told me about you," she said.

"Oh? And what did she say?"

"That I wasn't to disturb you and that you were very tall."

"Do you agree with her?

"Well, you're definitely tall," the hobbit-lass said with conviction, climbing up onto the bed beside him. "And I don't know if I'm disturbing you. Am I?"

"Not at all," Emáten smiled. "Who are you?"

"I'm Elanor and I'm nine and I live at Bag End and my daddy is Samwise Gardener," she replied in one breath. Growing bored with sitting still, she crawled across to play with his hair. She had just begun to plait it when there came another knock.

"Come in," called Emáten, standing up. Rosie came in, bearing a tray of drinks and breads. She blinked at the sight of her guest, braids hanging limply at his head and then looked at her daughter.

"Honestly, Elanor," she cried, setting the tray down then crossing her arms, "I told you not to go disturbing Master...er..."

"Emáten, milady," he said hesitantly. Rosie blushed.

"Oh now, you needn't be calling me a lady. Now come on, Ellie, let Master Emáten get changed."

Elanor obeyed and slipped off the bed to follow her mother out the door. She paused and then turned back to wave at her strange new man. He beamed and waved back.

--

"Mister Frodo," Sam called quietly, knocking on the door. There was no answer so he gently pushed the door open. His master's clothes lay folded neatly up on a chair nearby. The untidy desk had been cleared and organised. Everything looked so much brighter than when he had last entered. It was as it had always been, before Frodo had gone on the quest. When he had come home, he had concentrated on little else but finishing his book, uncaring of anything else. And he never did. Frodo had left the last few pages for Sam alone. It had been his task to write The End.

"That was wrong," Sam mused as he walked into the room, "'Cos it ain't the end. He came back. There's still more story to write down."

He deposited the tray he was carrying onto the desk and went to sit on the chair by Frodo's bed. His master was asleep, his face pale against the white of the pillows. He looked peaceful for the moment but Sam noticed a sheen of perspiration on his brow. And the blanket had been tossed aside and onto the floor. Frowning, he bent to pick it up but as he did so, Frodo issued a low moan. He looked up and saw his friend's face beginning to twitch and his whole body tense.

"Mister Frodo?" he said quietly.

But the hobbit was still lost under the waves of sleep. He suddenly cried out and a shudder passed through him. Frodo began to toss and turn, breathing shallow. Sam was terrified.

"No, not this," he breathed, "Please not this."

He shook his master fervently but nothing would wake him. His hand went slowly up to his neck.

"No, Frodo! Not this! Not this!" Sam screamed, tearing the hand away. He heard running footsteps and looked up to see Rosie and Emáten standing in the doorway. Frodo sat bolt upright, eyes wide and completely exhausted. He looked round in bewilderment, clutching Sam's arm and shaking as both cold and hot flared in his veins.

"It- it didn't happen...it can't have happened," he whispered.

"You were just dreaming, Mister Frodo," Sam soothed taking his friend into his arms, "It's all over now."

--

There was a heavy knocking at Merry's door.

"Pippin," the hobbit groaned, "You get it."

"Why?"

"Because you've been living here for two weeks and it's time you pulled some weight."

"...You can't be bothered, can you?" Pippin let out an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, alright, I'll get it."

Scraping food from his teeth, he wandered over to the door and pulled back the latch. He opened the door and found several hobbits on his doorstep.

"Hello?" he said, a little confused.

"Hello," the leading hobbit said with conviction, "May we come in?"

Pippin leaned back from the door.

"Can someone come in, Merry?"

When there was no reply, Pippin returned with a smile.

"Yes."

The hobbits trailed inside and closed the door behind them. Their spokesman, Delver, promptly seated himself on an armchair. Merry emerged from the kitchen and the two friends stood together, arms folded, towering over their smaller kin.

"There is news in the Shire," Delver said matter-of-factly.

"At last," Merry said out the corner of his mouth. Delver glared at him and he blushed.

"There is news," the hobbit went on, "And I know that it is true for I have seen the ones who saw *him* for themselves. *He* has returned."

"*He*?" Pippin asked.

"The Ringbearer," Delver said in exasperation. There was a long silence. The sort of silence that is like a stone falling over a waterfall. Then it crashed into the pool below. Pippin and Merry grabbed each other's arms and began dancing wildly in circles, laughing and crying at the same time. They drew back, expressions of pure astonishment on their faces.

"He came back," Pippin breathed.

"He really did. That's what we've been waiting for. That's what we've been sensing," his friend hiccuped with laughter. "Get your coat, Pip. We're leaving now."

"Shouldn't you get changed first?" Delver snapped with the underlying tone of 'shouldn't you be thanking me?'

"No time for that!" Pippin cried, hefting his coat on over his nightgown.

"Got to go!" Merry said. And then they were gone. With nothing more than a few swirls of snowflakes on the doorstep and two sets of footprints left on the icy ground.