Title: Curving Paths

             Rating: PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)

             Disclaimer: I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.

             Time Period: Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

             Note: Thanks for reading so far. Please review when you finish!

             Additional Note: This is a revised version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.

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             "Excuse me, sir, I'm looking for the young lass who arrived with Mr. Took last evening?" Frodo asked as he craned his head to look at the innkeeper, who was bent over paperwork at the moment.

            Finally turning, the elderly man exclaimed, "Why Mr. Baggins, how can I be of service to you? I didn't realize it was you there, I would have been come right over if I had known."

            Frodo smiled. "Olo, I didn't know you were an inn-keep now," he replied. "Whatever happened to that little pub you were opening up in Loamsdown?" With a mischievous grin, he continued, "Didn't you say it was the perfect spot? I thought the fellow who sold it to you promised it would turn a profit..."

            Olo's eyes crinkled warmly at his old friend's nephew. When the young Baggins had returned from his journey, Olo had struck up a friendship with him, and they had soon become quite close. He seemed to sense how Frodo missed Bilbo's presence, and he liked to think that he could act as almost a substitute for the hobbit, as he and Bilbo had once been good friends.

            Olo and Frodo often would spend hours talking about Bilbo's adventures and the marvels of distant lands, yet they rarely discussed Frodo's own journey, save the occasional description of the elves he had encountered. Olo had once questioned him about the Ring and the land of Mordor, but at the mere mention of the word, Frodo had visibly paled and had become quiet and pensive the rest of the afternoon. That day, Olo often observed Frodo gazing solemnly out a nearby window, his eyes seeming to search fruitlessly for unknown horizons.

            After that, Olo had steered clear of any conversation that might upset him further, and so their talks were often lighthearted and fun. Olo would often tell Frodo of his latest idea for a new business, none of which ever amounted to much or lasted for long.

             "Well," he answered slowly, "Perhaps it wasn't such a good location after all...Anyway, you know Hambitt Danders, Finnlock's friend? Well, his cousin owns this place, and he's lettin' me work here til somethin' better comes along."

            Frodo nodded in understanding. He had become friends with Olo's son Finn almost immediately after they had been introduced a few months before. The young hobbit was cheerful and fun to be around, though he sometimes became quite shy around members of the fairer sex. Finn's carefree and joking manner often reminded Frodo of Pippin in his younger days, though he was indeed notably less outgoing around the ladies. At this thought, Frodo broke out of his reveries and repeated his initial question to Olo.

             "Olo, do you happen to know which rooms Pippin and his friend are staying in? I believe he came in sometime last night."

             "Why yes, I believe I did see Mister Took arrive indeed, with quite a lovely lass on his arm. If Pippin wasn't such a close friend of yours, I might have tried to win her for myself," the gray-haired hobbit commented playfully with a wag of his eyebrows.

            Frodo laughed at this, and thanked Olo as he informed him that the couple was staying in rooms 12 and 14 on the second floor.

            After making his way up the musty stairwell, Frodo turned right and checked the door numbers.

            8...10...12...14. It was the corner suite at the end of the hallway; Pippin obviously had thrown some weight around to get such decent accommodations at such late notice.

            He had learned from the porter that Pippin had left for his meeting within the last half-hour, so Frodo guessed he had a good while before he returned. He could only hope Pippin had not yet told Jasmine of his accusations or else why would she let him in?

            When she first opened the door, she seemed surprised, almost frightened, at Frodo's presence, but she soon welcomed him in graciously, nervously rushing to make tea for them to share.

            He stepped in through the doorway and surveyed the living area. It was cozy and comfortably furnished with a welcoming fire burning in the fireplace and candles lit on the mantle. 

            As Jasmine turned to fill the teacups on a tray by the table, Frodo studied her profile, wondering if he had missed any tell-tale sign of deceit. Her dark hair spilt down her back in languid curls. Though he knew she was a master of seduction, she gave nothing away with her modest violet dress that reached well above her ample bosom. The firelight sparkled in her dark eyes, and her lips were pouted pertly as she concentrated on controlling the rather unwieldy teapot.

            All in all, she made quite an attractive picture; As she stood there preparing the food, Frodo could well imagine her playing the part of the happy wife, content to serve her husband after a hard day of work. 'Provided, of course,' Frodo added mentally, 'that his labor supplied her with all the jewelry and financial means her heart desired...'

             "Well, Frodo, how are you doing all alone in Bag End?" she asked, turning around with a smile and jolting him from his thoughts. "Are you managing to survive on your own cooking?"

            He smiled half-heartedly and explained to her of the Gamgees return. She seemed quite eager to meet them, "Sam being such good friends with Pippin and all."

            Jasmine handed him his tea and took a seat on the small couch beside him.

            Crossing her legs demurely as she sat, she reached out and stroked his shoulder, saying, "Pip's so lucky to have friends like you and Sam." She laughed. "You should hear the way he talks about you. I probably know more about you than most people, and I've only just met you for the first time."

            Frodo clenched his jaw.

             "Look, Ms. Greenbarrow, let's get to the meat of things here. I know all about your little charade, and I'm prepared to go to any length to keep you away from Pippin."

            She flinched visibly, and for a moment her eyes flared up and seemed to glow in the firelight. A second later, however, she replied calmly, "What charade are you referring to exactly, Mr. Baggins? I was under the impression that you were happy for Pippin and I. Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you not believe that I desire to be his wife?"

             "Oh, I believe that fine, Jasmine. And I'm sure Ruby does too. And what about Bella, did you ever find out how she was doing?"

            Leaping to her feet, she cried out in indignation, her face flushed with anger. "I didn't realize that you took pleasure in snooping around in your guest's private belongings! How dare you do such a thing! You have no idea what you're talking about."

             "Oh, really? Listen Jasmine, I read the whole letter, which might I add, you yourself left lying on the floor. I suppose you're just lucky I was the first to come along, instead of Pippin himself!"

            She seemed to be almost at a loss, her face pale with frustration and hurt.  "Mr. Baggins, please!" The word echoed in Frodo's mind, reminding him of a similar plea the night before. "Believe me when I say I do care for Pippin!"

            "Care for his gold, you mean!" He responded, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, and wondering if he had crossed the line. Before she answered, however, he had a revelation. The conversation he had overheard at the market suddenly came back to him, flooding into this mind in renewed clarity.

            As he left the room, he took one last glance at a glowering Jasmine standing alone by the couch, still visibly shocked by his announcement. Taking the steps by twos, he left the inn and set out determinedly in the direction of the Proudfoot home.

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            Well, how do you like it so far? I'm eager to know, whatever your opinion is! It's easy to do and is very much appreciated, so please review :)