DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own these characters in ANY respect WHAT-SO-EVER! They belong to the mighty and talented Professor J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings".



A/N: As the summary might have bidden you, this story has to do with the grief and torture of self-abuse (self harm, self mutilation, etc.) Just for the record I do know what I'm talking about, as I'm a sufferer of it myself. And as always: You be nice, No be meanie; You no likey, You no readie! This is a *trial* idea and if I get good reviews, I'll continue with it, but I've got to warn you, it starts out slow, hence this is a story, not an essay. But not TOO slow, and certainly (well...hopefully) not boring. Like I said, if this is reading material you DON'T approve of, then don't read this. I know that I'm no Tolkien, so don't be angry with my usage of his characters. If it's really THAT bad of a story, then constructive criticism will certainly be accepted and respected. Flaming really doesn't help anyone. Also according to the story I'd like to tell you that this first chapter is sort of a prelude, because Frodo is not 12 throughout the whole story. Anyways, enjoy! And please review, as I need reviews before I know if I'm wasting my time continuing.

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Chapter One: Echoes of Laughter



Primula Baggins gently stroked the thick curly locks of hair away from her son, Frodo's, brow with a soft smile about her face. The cool October draft had settled in the corridors of Brandy Hall once again, leaving poor Frodo with a mild case of sniffles. She gently put an extra blanket over her son's body and sat up, slowly as not to wake him. With a wave of her hand and a small puff she blew out the candle that stood on his bedstand; which was almost burned down to the bottom because she had been trying to lull him to sleep for so many long hours. She made her way out of his room, closing the door softly behind her; and made her way down the the hallway to the apartment room that she shared with her husband, Drogo.



"Finally got him to sleep?" asked Drogo with a kind grin on his face as Primula entered.



"Yes, he's sleeping. Poor lad just had some what of a mild cold. I've no doubt it'll pass before the end of the week." She smiled and looked at him as she locked the door. "I think we ought get to bed too! It's late and tomorrow is..." she was cut off by Drogo, who had already stood up, and taken her into his arms.



"Ah, yes. Yes, I know. Our anniversary."



"Do you have the boat ready?"



"Yes, it's fastened by the dock outside. I doubt any of these people would go near it," he chuckled, "as they're all dead afraid of the water."



Primula smiled and gave him a light punch on the shoulder "Oh, now Drogo don't joke like that!" They both smiled.



"Well," started Drogo after a long pause "we'd best be off to bed! I'm tired, as I'm sure you are too." They both smiled and laughed softly, their echoes of laughter ringing softly about the room.



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Of course I'm going to give more to judge on than that! lol...next page. By the way, some of these chapters may be extremely short, whilst others will be very long. :) I'm tired though, so I'll have Chapter 2 up some other time this week.