Interlude One--Dreaming
Arwen yawned and lay down in her bed. She stared quietly at the ceiling of her bedchamber for a few moments before drifting off, the sounds of the outdoors surrounding her through her open walls. Soon closing her eyes, and began to dream.

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She was in a field, more fresh and beautiful and green than any in her imagination. She could practically smell it, the scent of spring, childhood, and new rain. It wasn't at all like Rivendell; it didn't have the air of sadness she never even realized was there; it felt light and happy.

"Childhood..." she thought to herself. Looking down, she wasn't surprised to see she was indeed a child again, but *was* surprised to note her bare feet were rough, larger, and covered in curly brown hair. She smiled to herself, and instinctively got up, following the urge to see what lay ahead. It was a dream, after all, and nothing could harm her.

Soon Arwen, or whoever she was now, had reached a large rustic structure that appeared to consist of many round doors in a sort of tunnel complex. She walked to the largest one and opened it, reaching up on her tiptoes to turn the round gold knob.

As soon as she opened the door, she was swept up in a flurry of hobbits, more than she had ever seen in her life. There seemed to be some kind of a commotion, but before she could make sense of it, a large, matronly hobbit maid grabbed her hand.

"Where have you been, you silly girl?" She clucked. "You know it's your turn to keep Master Frodo company today." She sighed. "The poor thing is so lonely, what with his parents gone, and everyone so busy as of late. Not to mention the other lads his age, cousins and whatnot, just don't seem to take a liking to him. All except for little Master Merry, of course." She smiled. "Now run along, dear."

By now, a confused Arwen and the woman, who had hurried off leaving her alone, had reached a large door that she pushed on to reveal an even larger bedroom inside.

"Hullo?" Called a small voice from the bed in the center of the room. As Arwen walked closer she noticed there was dark haired hobbit lad sitting on on it. His skin was milk white and his eyes were large and blue. They gazed at Arwen like liquid sapphires, seeming to see straight through her. He gave her a queer look, and smiled shyly. She felt strangely peaceful and dreamlike.

"You're not a hobbit, are you?" He asked. She shook her head and spoke gently, trying not to frighten him.

"No," Arwen replied, taking his small hand in hers. Suddenly her dreamscape changed, the bedroom dissolving around them. They were transported back to Rivendell, now sitting on the same garden bench Bilbo and Arwen had talked on previously. Arwen had returned to her normal age and was an elf again, but Frodo looked much as he had before. She wondered for a moment why he wasn't older.

"What is your name?" He asked suddenly, without a moment's hesitation. She grinned broadly. She already loved this small, unusual lad; looking more like an elf than a hobbit.

"I am Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Lord Elrond; the ruler of Imladris." Frodo nodded eagerly.

"I have heard of you, my lady. Bilbo told me stories of Rivendell. He wishes he could meet you, and so did I. But now you are here...I'm sorry. I'm embarrassing myself." Arwen laughed melodiously.

"Do not worry, Frodo," Arwen said gently, "you are not. I am just as pleased to meet you."

"I sense he is different..." she thought to herself as she watched a smile fill his pale face. "Not only does he resemble our kind in fairness, but he is not like his kin in spirit. Like a silver moon among golden suns."

"Where do you live, melon nin? Who looks after you?" Arwen asked. Bilbo had told her nothing of Frodo's history, and now she had a chance to hear it from the lad himself.

"I live at Brandy Hall. My Aunt Esme and and Uncle Saradoc look after me, but they have baby Merry now." He smiled sadly. "I sometimes get to stay with Uncle Bilbo. I wish I could live at Bag End all the time..." Arwen just smiled knowingly and nodded.

Suddenly, Frodo looked at her as if entranced. She noticed the white jewel around neck was glowing brightly, releasing a blinding light like a star. She ran her finger across its smooth surface, as the light filled the sky and enveloped them. Arwen took one last look at Frodo, before he disappeared in the white light and was gone.

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"What---" Arwen awoke with a start, clutching the jewel around her neck. It suddenly felt very heavy. She looked around, mind still fuzzy from sleep, and tried to recall her dream. The pieces were slipping from her already, but the image of large blue eyes, sad and wise beyond their years, bore into her mind. She sighed deeply and lay back down.

"Eyes like the sea..." Arwen whispered to herself as sleep took her once more. She had no more dreams that night.

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Elsewhere at that moment, Frodo Baggins awoke from where he lay on a grassy field, rolling over in his sleeping sack and running his finger through his hair in amazement. He had just had a fantastic dream that he could barely remember, and was troubled.

"Mr. Frodo? Are you all right?" Sam mumbled, sitting up in his own sack, where the two lads had been camping out under the stars. It was a beautiful night; with seemingly more stars than sky overlooking Hobbiton.

"Yes, Sam," Frodo murmured, smiling. "I had the most amazing dream, but all I can remember now is an elf maid with dark hair, and a beautiful white light...the sound of waves..." Sam still looked concerned and put his hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"I'm all right now, truly," he smiled. "Come on; let's get back to sleep. Tomorrow we'll need our energy to go apple picking." Sam smiled.

"That's true, Mr. Frodo! All right then. Sleep well, and sweet dreams." Sam rolled over and closed his eyes, falling quickly asleep.

Frodo remained awake for a few more moments, staring at the pale moon in the dark sky and feeling strangely sad. He soon brushed it off, and smiling at his snoring friend, drifted off to a dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.