Hey everybody! I'm back. So what if I got no reviews for the first chapter? Right now, I'm an optimist.

Disclaimer: If I owned it, 1), I wouldn't be typing on a slow computer with an even slower internet connection and 2) I'd have groupies. Go figure.

Frodo's temperature fell within days, though the doctor still ordered him to be bedridden, as he was weak and injured. To recover, he had been given a room at the end of a corridor to avoid as many distractions as possible. Saradoc and Esmerelda did make sure he never got up. As Saradoc was the Master of Brandy Hall, however, he was often too busy to give Frodo the constant attention the doctor said he needed.

As a case of the flu was going around, the doctor was often too busy to check up on Frodo or completely forgot about him. Some infants' deaths weighed heavily on everybody's mind, so no one reminded him. Cousins with sniffles and coughs often came to see him, without Esmerelda's, Saradoc's, or the doctor's knowledge.

Luckily, Frodo's immune system had strengthened enough to stop any fatal illnesses. All he caught was a small cold.

Within weeks, he was running outside again. He was perhaps a little slower than he had been before, but no permanent damage had been done. However, he had lost a great deal of weight from not eating while he was stuck in bed. He had always been chubby before, even by hobbit standards.

~*~

When Bilbo came for Yule that year, Frodo still kept his isolated room fro the privacy it offered. He had become depressed and withdrawn, never speaking unless spoken to, and rarely smiling. Happiness for Bilbo's visit and sadness for the first Yule without his parents competed for his dominant emotion. As a result, he was prone to mood swings that season.

Happiness did win out, for the first day Bilbo was there at least.

"Frodo, my lad, how have you been? Finally recovered from the accident, I see. Good. You do look like you could use some fattening up again, however. No problem. What are they feeding you?"

"Hello Uncle," Frodo said softly. "I've been fine. They feed me enough, I'm just not hungry that often."

"Not hungry?" Bilbo replied. "A hobbit, not hungry? Preposterous. Come. Let's go put my bags up and see if the cooks will feed hungry hobbits. If not you, then me at least. Traveling sure feeds the appetite."

~*~

Bilbo's Yule present to Frodo was a portrait of his parents taken at their wedding. Frodo's eyes welled up with tears when he realized what it was.

"Thank you, Uncle Bilbo. I-I...Thank you."

"Nonsense, my dear boy. It was the least I could do. It was only collecting dust on my shelf."

~*~

Bilbo left the week after. Frodo soon dug himself deeper into depression after he left.

His cousins weren't always helpful either. Sure, most of them were nice and considerate and all, but it only takes one fallen stone to start an avalanche, doesn't it? Same way with Frodo. Nasty comments and hateful glares given to him in the hallways made him more withdrawn.

Saradoc and Esmerelda were too busy to notice Frodo's withering happiness. He had taken to long walks far away from the hall, being for a week without coming back, and skipping meals when he was there.

As every place with young people, and some older ones too, Brandy Hal had its fair share of bullies, and then some, as it was a large place. Most saw Frodo as an easy target, and spent their insults and such on him.

"Well, look who we have here, Merimas. A little orphan hobbit walking by himself. Maybe he's lonely?

"Probably, Melilot. We should walk with him to keep him company."

"No, really, that's all right. I won't get lonely, I assure you."

"Are you truly sure? We have nothing better to do, Frodo." Melilot jeered.

"Yes, I'm truly sure. Thank you for your offer, nonetheless." Frodo sprinted away.

"That little brat." Merimas and Melilot followed. "He spends so much time away from Brandy Hall he shouldn't even be considered living there. Because nobody likes a brat that doesn't know when his welcome's worn out, right Frodo?" That last bit was yelled loud enough for Frodo to hear. He heard all of it, really, but that last bit was directed straight to him.

Unknown to all of them, including himself, Frodo was leading them straight to the Old Forest. All he saw was a bunch of trees and a pathway. He took it.

"Brat." His pursuers stopped and yelled, "Good riddance, and good luck getting back out!"

Frodo soon realized he was no longer being followed. He found a tree stump and sat on it to think. Merimas's and Melilot's words hurt him inside, but he had heard and even believed worse. He had been called a brat before, but each time, though he told himself it wasn't, it couldn't be true, he found himself believing it anyway.

He heard someone coming and quickly checked the tears threatening to fall. He stood up off the stump and raised his fists, prepared to fight whoever was invading his 'space'. He then realized that the footsteps were too loud to be even the clumsiest hobbit. He could not think of anything else that would be running around it the woods, so he decided it must be a Big Person!

Frodo had never seen a Big Person before. His Uncle Bilbo had though, and in his stories they had seemed nice enough... well, most of them had seemed nice enough anyway. This one was close now.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? A little hobbit, lost in the forest. How very touching. Or maybe it's not lost. Maybe it's a spy, sent to collect the secrets of the woods. I wonder which it is."

"Please, sir." Frodo stammered. "I'm no spy. I'm just lost sir, please believe me."

The stranger laughed. "Of course I believe you, little hobbit. But the forest is no place for a child like you. Tell me, what are you doing in here anyway?"

"Well, see, sir," Frodo began. "I was taking a walk and two of my friends started a game of... tag with me. I was trying to avoid being 'it' when I ran in here. I couldn't find my way back out, so I thought I'd take a little break by this stump." Frodo's face betrayed no emotion to counter his lie.

"Some people would be alarmed by your ability to lie, hobbit. Others would praise you. I am merely curious. What drove you into this dreary forest?"

"I tell no lie, sir. I was playing tag with friends and lost my way."

"I am beginning to join the alarmed ones, little one. Where do you get your lying ability, and why are you really in this forest?"

"Fine." Frodo crossed his arms. "I really was taking a walk when two bullies decided to walk with me. I ran away. They followed, taunting me. I saw the pathway and came in. They didn't. I think they were scared."

"Not without reason. Only those with great need or have not heard the legends dare to venture in this far. Tell me, when they were taunting you, what did they say?"

"Why does that matter? Can I not just leave it in the past?"

"Your attitude, hobbit, tells me this is not the first time they've said things like that to you." Frodo glared at him. "Tell me, what do they say to you?"

"They call me an ungrateful brat. They say I spend so much time away from my house I should not be considered a true citizen. They tell me nobody loves me."

"And your parents knowingly let this happen?" The stranger inquired.

Frodo averted his eyes for a moment before bring them back up to his face. "My parents died last fall."

"Oh. And now you live...?"

"And now I live at Brandy Hall. So do the two others."

"I see. And how much time to you actually spend away?"

Frodo shrugged. "I guess I may be away more than I am there."

"Ah."

"Do you think you could show me the way out of the forest, sir?"

"It is too late for you to get back to your home."

"No matter. Once I get out of here I'll just head to where I normally go."

"Might I ask where that is?"

"There is a small grove about 10 miles from here where the trees are mutated and form suitable beds."

"You think I would let you walk 10 miles in the dark?"

Frodo shrugged again. "I've done it before."

"Well, you won't do it tonight. Come. You may spend the night with my at my camp."

"Thank you...sir."

He laughed. "You may call me Aramir."

"Frodo Baggins at your service, Aramir."

"Baggins... Where have I heard that name before?"

"No idea, sir. You may tell me once you figure it out."

"I shall. And here is my camp..."

The camp had been totally destroyed while Aramir had been talking to Frodo. The tent cover and cooking supplies had been taken.

"I thought no one else came in here?"

"So did I... Unless...but no..."

"But no...what?"

"Nothing. Forget I said-"

Frodo felt himself being grabbed from behind. Something cold and sharp was pressed to his throat. Although he couldn't see it, he knew that it had to be some kind of weapon.

Hey, if I'm nice enough to update a story with NO reviews, you can be nice enough to drop one.

And I have the next part written. My update time will show how many reviews I get. That means, if you want to know what happens next, let me know, and I'll post it.

Review please. And apologies for any discrepancies with Tolkien's work. I took some liberties with the names in the family trees in RotK.