As Frodo walked the mile-long pathway back towards Bag End, he looked about him for his pursuer, but they had obviously given up. He sighed. He could not get Rayne out of his thoughts, no matter how much he tried. Shaking his head fiercely, as if to lose the impression the hobbit had on his mind, he thought of what Sam would think when, if, he ever told him about Rayne.
"Yeah. I'll say, 'Oh hello Sam, guess what? I just met a hobbit out in the middle of a forest, in the pouring rain, at night, and he gave me his cloak.' I bet he would be really happy about that." He spoke to himself hesitantly as he walked, fingering Rayne's forest green cloak; he could now tell what color it was, as the rain had just let up to a light shower. All Frodo could think about was the blue-eyed, brown haired young hobbit, Rayne, all the way home.

Sam was at the door, waiting for him.
"Why hello, Mr. Frodo," he greeted, smiling, but Frodo could see the hurt in his eyes.
"H- hello, Sam. Why did you stay up waiting for me? It must be at least midnight," Frodo said, sighing.
"Yes, since the very hour you left I have been worrying about you." He paused. "Where did you get that cloak?" Frodo hesitated.
"Ah... I found it," he answered quickly, with a sincere smile on his face.
" Mr. Frodo. I don't believe you found it. You have that smile again. Besides, it is too nice a cloak to just be left out in.... um, wherever you went and lied you found it," Sam said, studying his master. "You met someone, didn't you? I can see you did."
"Um... no?" Sam sighed as a mother would in dealing with a lying child.
"Frodo..." he said sternly, in a voice that would warn Frodo to tell him or else.
"Alright, I did."
"Did what?"
"Meet someone." Frodo suddenly corrected himself, "But not on purpose!"
"Who?" Frodo bit his lower lip.
"Uh... his name's... Rayne."
"Who?" Frodo shrugged.
"I don't know."
"Frodo, you just told me his name."
"His name is Rayne, and I accidentally bumped into him in the forest. He gave me his cloak because I was sopping wet."

Sam sighed.
"Fine. Come in then." Frodo looked at Sam as he hung up Rayne's cloak and knew he was hurt.
"Sam," he whispered. "Sam... I'm sorry." Sam shook his head, not meeting Frodo's gaze.
"Are you really?" he whispered. Frodo didn't answer, instead biting his lower lip. He reached out and touched Sam's shoulder, feeling it drop in heartbreaking misery at his touch.
"Sam... why are you so unhappy that I met someone on accident?" Frodo stepped closer, and whispered, "Sam, I..." The hobbit turned away from Frodo and said,
"Mr. Frodo... it's because... well..." Sam hesitated. "Why do you act like meeting... um..."
"Rayne," Frodo provided.
"Rayne... was nothing important, something not interrupting our... relationship?" Frodo lowered his head, dropped his hand from Sam's shoulder, and closed his eyes, silenced. Thoughts of Rayne drifted around in his head, clouding his concentration. 'Why won't he just go away?' he thought angrily. 'Because he is... different,' his mind argued.
'No he's not. He's just a normal hobbit.'
'He is different. You know it, Frodo.'
'How do you know?!' he screamed mentally.
'Because I can tell... because I am you.'
'Tell me how Rayne is different than anyone else,' he thought.
'Well... his name. It isn't exactly a common one, now is it?'
'No...'
'His eyes, they are blue and silver.'
'Yes... they are.' His eyes...
'And his skin. No hobbit is that pale. He looks as if he is sickly.'
'Yes, but...'
'His cloak, did it have a clasp on it?'
'Yes.'
'What does it look like?' Frodo finally broke out of his clouded thoughts. Sam was gone, and most of the house was dark except a dim candle in his room. He looked around for the cloak and found it. He grasped it and looked for the clasp. He gasped at what he saw.
"Mr. Frodo?" Frodo jumped and whirled around. Sam was standing there, candle in hand.
"Hello Sam." He paused. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Sam nodded, and said,
"Yes, Mr. Frodo, and you should too." Frodo smiled slightly at Sam's caring tone, and sighed. Sam looked at the cloak in Frodo's hands, and said somewhat flatly,
"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Frodo looked down at the cloak and gently unclipped the clasp, hanging the cloak up. Slipping it into his pocket, he strode past Sam without a word and went into his room, closing the door.

Frodo sighed as he sat down on his bed, carefully examining Rayne's cloak clasp. It looked like some sort of serpent, on closer inspection Frodo realized it was a silver dragon, with opened wings and mouth looking as if it was breathing fire. Its emerald eyes gleamed with the wisdom of ancient ways, something of which dragons always knew.
"Wow," he breathed. "I wonder where he got this?"
'I told you,' the other side of his mind said.
"Oh be quiet," he voiced softly.
'Is it Elven?'
'I don't think so...'
'Well then, what is it? If it's not Elven, and you don't know where he got it, then he must not be a normal hobbit.'
'How is he not normal?'
'Well... um... just because...'
'Because...?'
'Well, because all of the things that were discovered earlier, and now his clasp, and... things like that."
"But I can't go about saying things about Rayne now until I get to know him," Frodo whispered absently. "And that might never happen."