A/N Ok yea, so Iv been told my writing is funny, or hard something to that
extent. Please forgive me, Im fourteen and trying to write the way my
Honors Writing teacher is says is proper. That means dissimilar adjectives
(someone mentioned that) So I apologize, I have to write that way for class
and If I don't do it for stories or well Ill be tempted to do it for
essays, that and to much repeating sounds funny.
And I know I used men more then once, but tried not to. Also, I was not sure of how far apart in age the two were, this just fit in with the story, creative license you could say Im using.
Right with all that over, thankee to my reviewers, I appreciate it criticism and all.
On with the story.
Chapter 3: Homecoming
It was truly amazing what eight hours and some fine effort could do, Bilbo thought to himself as he surveying his finished project.
Deciding there was nothing more work he could that night, the hobbit stepped out from the room and shutting the glossy bottle green door in his wake.
Congratulating himself, Bilbo snuck noiselessly down the main hall of Bag End. Peaking in, the hobbits eyes fell upon the sweetest sight he could remember seeing in all his travels.
Curled within the chairs arms, sat Frodo, his azure eyes staring down at the curly, fair-haired child lying stretched out on his back, arms wrapped around the older hobbit-toddlers waist.
Thunder growled overhead, in his frenzy to finish Bilbo had become oblivious to most of the outside world, save the booming knocking on his front door an hour earlier.
Watching the two tiny hobbits gave him great joy, they seemed comfortable in each other's arms neither of them giving any heed to the storm, which had brought them to that very position.
Neither noticed the old hobbit's presence, Frodo was preoccupied with studying the infant cradled in his arms, while Sam watched the fat drops of rain fall shaking at ever flash of lighting, and rumble of thunder, already the bond between them was obvious, though neither babe nor child knew.
Unwilling to disturb such a serene scene, Bilbo let himself silently out of the doorway and instead sitting in a sheltered part of the garden to watch the storm in all of its beauty.
He mulled over the events of the past few days, and how in such a short time his life had changed more then it had ever, and for the better as well.
Nothing had touched his old heart more then seeing that little hobbit in such pain, Bilbo recalled the death of his parents he had been older of course but the sorrow of loss knows no age, as the hobbit knew well enough.
The storm passed over quickly leaving fallen boughs upon grass, and leaves upon the stone doorsteps of the aged hobbit holes.
Piercing the black storms haze, the sun reflected off the raindrops hanging from the leaves edge, each drop threatening to fall into the tangled maze of grass below, beauty at it's finest Bilbo thought, his jumbled thoughts forgotten in the splendor before him.
Deciding it was time to surprise his nephew; Bilbo pulled his tired form from his porch chair and let himself through the door.
Still curled beside each other, Frodo and Sam stared into the warm flames in the hearth both relived the storm had passed.
The old Hobbit cleared his throat startling the children. Frodo jumped knocking Sam from the chair to the floor, the infant-hobbit began to wail until his face was red with exertion.
"O Sammy iz is *so* sowee" the youngster rounded on his Uncle, a frown prominent on his smooth face. "'ncle! 'ou scare us! Aw pwease dun cwy Sammy", Frodo fell to his knees beside the infant and kissed his furrowed brow. Immediately, the tears ceased. A smile dazzling as a sunrise spread across the hobbits little face.
"Tank Frooh!" Sam cried, hugging his friend with all the strength he possessed.Gently, Bilbo swept them both into his arms and flying them from the room amidst squeals of Joy and surprise.
"'ncle Beblo were's you gonna takes us?" The muffled voice of his Nephew echoed in his ear.
"'Tis a surprise my boy, one you shall like I do believe. And stop your squirming Sammy-lad, lest I drop you on top of your curly little head" The twisting and turning of the infant halted abruptly, at the same moment Bilbo stopped before the glistening green door standing the two boys back on their feet.
"Open the door Frodo" Bilbo coaxed eagerly, the hobbit-toddler looked up wide eyed into the twinkling eyes of his Uncle. Cautiously, Frodo opened the door a crack, peeking inside with a single sapphire eye.
"Come now boy, open it all the way!" Doing as he was told, the four year yanked the handle with all his might, throwing it back into wall. A most splendid sight met his little eyes.
The room beyond the door was spectacular.
Wind chimes of many shapes, colors, and patterns hung from the gently curved ceiling. A little bed draped with over stuffed quilts, and the softest feather pillows sat before a high windows seat overlooking the exquisite garden. It was of simple design, but this did not matter to the child for as young as he it was incredible.
"'ncle, its pwettyful!" Frodo whispered, the older hobbit kneeled eyelevel to the little one, placing his hands on Frodo's shoulders
"And it's all yours," came the reply "Welcome home Frodo."
And I know I used men more then once, but tried not to. Also, I was not sure of how far apart in age the two were, this just fit in with the story, creative license you could say Im using.
Right with all that over, thankee to my reviewers, I appreciate it criticism and all.
On with the story.
Chapter 3: Homecoming
It was truly amazing what eight hours and some fine effort could do, Bilbo thought to himself as he surveying his finished project.
Deciding there was nothing more work he could that night, the hobbit stepped out from the room and shutting the glossy bottle green door in his wake.
Congratulating himself, Bilbo snuck noiselessly down the main hall of Bag End. Peaking in, the hobbits eyes fell upon the sweetest sight he could remember seeing in all his travels.
Curled within the chairs arms, sat Frodo, his azure eyes staring down at the curly, fair-haired child lying stretched out on his back, arms wrapped around the older hobbit-toddlers waist.
Thunder growled overhead, in his frenzy to finish Bilbo had become oblivious to most of the outside world, save the booming knocking on his front door an hour earlier.
Watching the two tiny hobbits gave him great joy, they seemed comfortable in each other's arms neither of them giving any heed to the storm, which had brought them to that very position.
Neither noticed the old hobbit's presence, Frodo was preoccupied with studying the infant cradled in his arms, while Sam watched the fat drops of rain fall shaking at ever flash of lighting, and rumble of thunder, already the bond between them was obvious, though neither babe nor child knew.
Unwilling to disturb such a serene scene, Bilbo let himself silently out of the doorway and instead sitting in a sheltered part of the garden to watch the storm in all of its beauty.
He mulled over the events of the past few days, and how in such a short time his life had changed more then it had ever, and for the better as well.
Nothing had touched his old heart more then seeing that little hobbit in such pain, Bilbo recalled the death of his parents he had been older of course but the sorrow of loss knows no age, as the hobbit knew well enough.
The storm passed over quickly leaving fallen boughs upon grass, and leaves upon the stone doorsteps of the aged hobbit holes.
Piercing the black storms haze, the sun reflected off the raindrops hanging from the leaves edge, each drop threatening to fall into the tangled maze of grass below, beauty at it's finest Bilbo thought, his jumbled thoughts forgotten in the splendor before him.
Deciding it was time to surprise his nephew; Bilbo pulled his tired form from his porch chair and let himself through the door.
Still curled beside each other, Frodo and Sam stared into the warm flames in the hearth both relived the storm had passed.
The old Hobbit cleared his throat startling the children. Frodo jumped knocking Sam from the chair to the floor, the infant-hobbit began to wail until his face was red with exertion.
"O Sammy iz is *so* sowee" the youngster rounded on his Uncle, a frown prominent on his smooth face. "'ncle! 'ou scare us! Aw pwease dun cwy Sammy", Frodo fell to his knees beside the infant and kissed his furrowed brow. Immediately, the tears ceased. A smile dazzling as a sunrise spread across the hobbits little face.
"Tank Frooh!" Sam cried, hugging his friend with all the strength he possessed.Gently, Bilbo swept them both into his arms and flying them from the room amidst squeals of Joy and surprise.
"'ncle Beblo were's you gonna takes us?" The muffled voice of his Nephew echoed in his ear.
"'Tis a surprise my boy, one you shall like I do believe. And stop your squirming Sammy-lad, lest I drop you on top of your curly little head" The twisting and turning of the infant halted abruptly, at the same moment Bilbo stopped before the glistening green door standing the two boys back on their feet.
"Open the door Frodo" Bilbo coaxed eagerly, the hobbit-toddler looked up wide eyed into the twinkling eyes of his Uncle. Cautiously, Frodo opened the door a crack, peeking inside with a single sapphire eye.
"Come now boy, open it all the way!" Doing as he was told, the four year yanked the handle with all his might, throwing it back into wall. A most splendid sight met his little eyes.
The room beyond the door was spectacular.
Wind chimes of many shapes, colors, and patterns hung from the gently curved ceiling. A little bed draped with over stuffed quilts, and the softest feather pillows sat before a high windows seat overlooking the exquisite garden. It was of simple design, but this did not matter to the child for as young as he it was incredible.
"'ncle, its pwettyful!" Frodo whispered, the older hobbit kneeled eyelevel to the little one, placing his hands on Frodo's shoulders
"And it's all yours," came the reply "Welcome home Frodo."