I have never been very fond of the ending of The Return of The King. Though I understood Tolkien's idea of sending Frodo to the Grey Havens, it seemed too sad and thoughtless. I wanted to see Frodo grow old and happy. But what happened to him was too much for any person to bear, especially a hobbit, who weren't used to wars and adventures (for the exception of Bilbo).

Everyone seemed so sad at the end of the story, I decided to give others some hope and fit in this side story that takes place after the remaining fellowship's return from Gondor, after they bid farewell to now King Aragorn and Queen Arwen. Sam does still indeed marry Rosie, and has children as the story shows. But Frodo does not go to the Grey Havens yet. Instead he lingers in Bag End by himself, earning all that his uncle had ventured sixty years before.

Though Frodo isn't stricken so much with the pain as in the movie and book, he still has terrible nightmares of the Eye of Sauron. It isn't until a curious woman appears in Hobbiton, not seeming to belong to any race that Frodo has seen on his adventures. She is fair of face but ugly of heart. And though she is not kind to Frodo in the beginning, he never gives up hope for her heart to turn beautiful once more.

Chapter 1

Dawn was falling upon the Shire. Birds were singing in the trees, wakening from their roosts and ruffling their feathers. And slowly, little by little, the Shire-folk were also awakening. Among these residence was a young Hobbit named Frodo. He was sleeping peacefully as the sun began to shine through his bedroom window. He turned his head away from the light, burying his head in his goose-feathered pillow. Things around him were beginning to change as the sunlight cast away the shadows and in its place was a bright point on every object in his room, including his golden brown hair that curled about his head.

On that Saturday morning, as much as he wanted to sleep in, fate seemed to have an ill omen on him that day. For at that very moment there was a large boom outside his window. Frodo jumped so badly that he fell out of his bed with a thump against the wooden floor. His head bumped hard and he yelped, rubbing his scalp. He peeked over the top of his bed to look towards his window, but saw nothing besides the sun's rays. He raised an eyebrow and went to rummaging for his shirt that lay somewhere on his floor. He found it and slipped it on, buttoning up the front as he walked to his window.

His hand grasped the knob on the shutter of his window and he swung it open. He stuck his head out, looking both ways up and down the path that led to Bag End. Not a soul. Blinking with confusion, he closed his window and proceeded to make his bed.

BAM!

Frodo's heart jumped into his throat. But his brief moment of terror reduced to frustration as he marched back to his window. He swung it open and looked out with icy blue eyes. A rumbling growl resonated from his throat, as his eyes once again saw nothing unusual. Until he looked to the west from his window. He saw a horse's cart backed up near a stump and someone in the cart trying to steer the pony away from it. Every time they tried, however, the back wheel became caught and a fairly loud THUMP came from it.

Frodo opened both shutters wide and climbed through the large window, landing his bare feet softly on the stone path. He walked swiftly to the pony and cart, and to the one who was trying to drive it. The cart was much too large to be a hobbit's cart, and the horse much too sturdy to be an ordinary work pony. But the one sitting in the driver's spot was even more peculiar. A girl not much younger than Frodo, with flowing brown hair and sharp green eyes, was now wrestling with the reins of the giant horse.

But the girl, Frodo inspected, was different from any hobbit in the Shire. He was quite certain that she wasn't a hobbit at all, even though she was quite small. Frodo, for some reason, was less concerned about his disrupted sleep and more concerned in getting the horse, cart, and driver out of the predicament they were in. So he climbed up into the cart and sat down next to the girl.

The young woman was too involved in her own problems to yet notice the small lad now sitting next to her. She was trying to back up the pony, but not having much luck. The pony was skittish and not very cooperative. Finally she sighed angrily and threw down the reins, a little too hard on the pony's rump. The pony whinnied and all at once the wheel that had been held by the stump broke in two and the cart lunged forward, carried on by the will of the frightened steed.

Frodo, not expecting this sort of thing, fell backwards into the hay in the cart, thankfully landing softly but not pleasantly. The girl held on to the plank seat with all her might as the pony drug the cart through an open field. With no way to stop the animal, with the reins thrown over the edge and dragging on the ground, all either of them could do was hold on for all they could.

The girl covered her head, thinking it was the end. Frodo, at the moment, wasn't too bothered for himself, but the fate of the girl in the driver's seat. He saw the field beginning to end and the large pond in the center of Hobbiton beginning. It came closer, and closer, and now it was only yards away.

Thinking quickly, Frodo leaped from his spot and grabbed the girl around the waste, jumping over the side of the cart and landing in the soft grass. The pony slowed as it neared the water, as if it had never been slapped on the rump at all.

Frodo lay with the strange girl sprawled underneath him, her chestnut hair thrown this way and that with small bits of hay stuck through the wavy locks. She cringed from the sunlight in her eyes, shading her eyes with her fair hand. Her eyes flickered open, showing the greenest eyes Frodo had ever seen.

He blinked a few times, her face just inches from his own. Their eyes stared into the others until Frodo realized how embarrassed he was. He sprang to his feet quicker than he had ever moved, apologizing with every bit of heart that he bore, which, in Frodo's case, was a lot.

"My lady, I'm so very sorry. I-I-…"

Frodo stuttered so horribly that he didn't quite know what to do with himself. He scratched the back of his head and suddenly realized that he should be helping her up, even though he felt like running away from the scene of the crime, so to speak.

"Indeed…I'm very…here, let me help…." He extended a steady hand for the young lady, who slapped away his hand in disgust.

"I don't know who you are, or HOW you got to be on top of me, let alone in my cart. But I know one thing. I can take care of myself, and I absolutely do NOT need help from a HOBBIT, no less!"

She got to her feet quite easily, brushing off her burgundy dress that now had grass stains and dirt smears all over it. Her face was a mess with smudges of dirt everywhere. Frodo didn't blame her for being slightly unreasonable, but he was slightly taken back by her vulgar attitude.

She stomped away towards her horse, unhitching him from the now mangled cart. All of the hay in the rear had spilled partly into the water and the rest on the sandy shore. She wrestled with the tangled reins that had wrapped themselves around the front axle. Frodo watched in slight confusion, an expression of awe on his fair face.

"But…I saved you-."

"You did nothing of the sort, HOBBIT!" She retorted, picking up a blanket out of the broken cart and laying it over the pony's back. "Obviously the steed was going to stop at the pond's edge. Only an idiot would drown him or herself or think something of that sort. I suppose you are even dumber than my horse."

Now it was Frodo's turn to be angry.

"If you hate hobbits so much, then why are you here, in Hobbiton no less?"

"I was here on business," she replied.

"And then why do you look like a hobbit?" His voice pierced her ears, her green eyes flashing with sudden fright. She mounted the pony with little trouble, even though it was quite large for her. She seemed remarkably agile for her size.

"That, Hobbit, is none of your concern." She scowled as she urged her pony into a trot. Frodo watched her go, confused and wishing very much that he had never gotten out of bed. But in a way, in the back of his mind, he was very glad that he had.