Disclaimer: I do NOT own these characters :)
A/N: Alrights people, I'm sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry about the earlier version of this chapter. It is always late at night when I write (because I don't have time otherwise :( ) so I guess I wasn't thinking about the anachronisms I put in there. Anyways, here is the revised edition. You guys didn't make me feel bad, so don't worry. Thanks for letting me know. :) Because one learns from one's mistakes, right? They do have clocks though. Recall the movie. After Gandalf's questioning of the Ring's where-abouts, Bilbo replied "Yes, yes it is over there, by the clock on the mantelpiece." Anyway, here go. Once again, if you are clueless as to this note, then just ignore it. ;)
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Chapter 4-Forever Broken
Bilbo Baggins awoke around 3.00 am to the sound of bustle on the floors below. "What in the Shire..." he began to wonder, as he
yawned and stood up. He had fallen asleep in a chair in his room; reading as usual. He rubbed his eyes, catching a glimpse of the
time. "Three o'clock!? What in the heavens are these people doing awake?" He decided to go and see. He carefully slipped out of his
room, and made his way down the corridor-very quietly; in the direction where the noise was coming from.
He looked around. Several of the older hobbit men were congregating. He couldn't hear much over their hushed talk, but made out
the few words "search party" and "boat". Then a certain and horrible thought stuck out in his mind. Drogo and Primula? Where were
they? He searched the room with his eyes, and as he suspected, found no trace of them.
His search was broken by the sound of quiet sobbing. It was Esmeralda Took and her friend Daisy Harfoot. He made his way over
and sat down. "Esmeralda? Whatever is the matter? Why are you crying, and what is going on!?"
She looked up at him "B-Bilbo. There was a terrible storm right along the river a few hours ago, and Drogo and P-Primula haven't
returned. We're terribly worried, and we are trying to get a search party together," she broke down in sobs now, "I think...I mean
we...we think something happened to them."
Bilbo sat aghast. How could this happen? He had only spoken with them around twelve hours before. He couldn't believe this. His
train of thought was interrupted by an old hobbit from the gathering search party. "Pardon me, Master Baggins, but as you probably
know, Drogo and Primula Baggins are...well missing. We're starting a search party, and we need one more person. I know it's
late...but do you think you could, sir?"
Bilbo did not hesitate to answers. "Yes, yes of course." The older hobbit smiled grimly, and handed Bilbo a coat and a candle.
The search company slowly made their ways out-of-doors. It was still very early, perhaps a half past three in the morning. It didn't
seem like it though, everyone was too distraught to even feel tired. Things went pretty much the same all night. They walked along
the edge of the river, and some waded in the shallow parts. If you were far off, all you could see would be the glowing of small
candles. Bilbo shivered, the wet atmosphere of the earlier storm had not worn off, and there was dew drops everywhere, being flung
up by the feet of the other hobbits as they walked.
"Hoy!" came a voice. "Hoy! Over here! I think I found something!" Sure enough, he did. Bilbo and the few others around him shone
their candles in his direction. There were two lumps afloat in the water. They seemed to be clad in something, but it was hard to tell,
since they were totally draped in mud. The hobbit who had discovered them began to heave one out of the water, beckoning for aid.
The others went, although they were reluctant to see. In what seemed like forever, the two wads of mud were in fact not mud, but
the bodies of Drogo and Primula Baggins. Bilbo stood heartbroken. Tears welled up in his eyes, and rode down his checks.
"Oh no..." said one of the other hobbits. "Someone go inform the others at Brandy Hall--that Drogo and Primula are," he gulped
sadly, holding back tears "dead." One of the younger lads began a dash back to tell the others, he ran, because he could not bear to
see anymore. Bilbo and the others remaining were forced to drag the bodies a little more inland. At length they stopped, about 30
yards from the river. They laid the bodies straight out on the grass.
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Frodo awoke and rubbed his eyes. It was still dark out. He looked at the clock on his bedstand. The hands were on the Roman
numeral IV. "Hmm...four?" he thought. Soon he was distracted by the sounds of hysterics and crying. This alarmed him, and he
became terribly frightened. He immediately ran out the door and down the hallway to his parents room. He opened their door and
ran in "Mama! Mama! I'm scared!" He jumped into the bed to cuddle up to his mother, but found to his own horror that she was not
there. "Mama? Papa?" He stood up, a bit shocked.
Frodo thought for a moment. They were in the main room of Brandy Hall, with the others. They had to be. He grabbed a fresh shirt
and trousers that his mother had ironed for him the day before, and left their room as quickly as he had come. He stopped as he
reached all the commotion, and searched the room. His eyes widened, and a fear engulfed his heart. They weren't there. He made
sure none of his aunts saw him as he snuck past them and out the doors.
What he saw next was something he'll never forget. There were a group of older hobbits huddled about each other. It was dark, and
wet, he noted as curiosity got the best of him. He made his way forward and stood behind two of the hobbits, unnoticed in the
commotion and dark. He peeked through the circle, and his eyes went wide. Was that his parents, lying there still and unmoving?
"MAMA! PAPA!" he screamed and pushed through the two hobbits in his way, sobbing madly.
"Frodo!" exclaimed some of the hobbits. Others looked away from this site, it was too much for them. Bilbo was absolutely
heartbroken, seeing the young boy like this now. Not anymore a young lad, but an orphan.
Frodo beat his fist on the ground, crying and cursing what had happened. Bilbo bent down next to him, pulling him upwards and
holding him close. "Shh, Frodo my lad, I'm sorry--" he was interrupted by hysterical sobbing "--shh, so sorry." Frodo didn't seem to
care. It was all so unfair. What had he done to deserve this? He struggled to get free.
"Let go! Let go of me!" he sobbed. "I want to be alone! Go away! ALONE!" Bilbo only held him tighter, knowing that letting him go
was the worst thing to do. But Frodo soon had become too much for him. With a sudden jerk, Frodo became free, and dashed off
wildy in the other direction. Where exactly was he going? He didn't know, and he really didn't care.
Shouts of panic arose from the group of hobbits. "Frodo! Frodo Baggins you come back here!!" they shouted. Bilbo was just torn in
two.
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Frodo ran deep into the surrounding woods until he could go no more. He retired on an old log, and buried his face into his shivering
hands. He sobbed deeply for hours and hours on end. Why had this happened? This certainly was not fair. He didn't deserve this.
"Oh Mama and Papa," he said, amidst his tears and sobbing. "I l-loved you! W-Why didn't you let me come too? I want to be with
you! I miss you!" he cried. "I l-l-love you more than a-anything. Now I'm alone. W-Why o, why did I not go too?" He questioned
himself.
After a moment he stood up, still weeping inconsolably. He wandered around for a moment. Anything was better than going back. He
walked on some more, when his vest got caught in something. It was a large bush of thornes. He struggled to get his clothing free,
and then examined the thorn that had snagged him. Soon enough, a thought hit him.
He gently broke off one of the dirty pieces of thorn. Looking around, he saw a puddle from the rainstorm earlier. He went over, and
began to wash it. Why? He wasn't quite sure, perhaps just something to do. Suddenly an impulse had him, and his the hand that
held the throne suddenly raced across the tip of his finger. He watched as the blood, mixed with water, trickled down his finger and
onto his hand and wrist. He smiled inwardly, for he seemed to feel a lot better. Isn't this what he deserved? Pain? After all, he had
let his parents go. His eyes were still full of tears, and his heart would always be full of grief. Little did he know, he matured a lot
within those few moments.
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