This is just a try at a short fic, or whatever it's called. Be kind, please review, and tell me what you think.
There was so much to do, and yet, there was very little. This was both a good thing, and a not so good thing.
For Frodo, he couldn't decide, for the days stretched on with walking and sometimes jogging, up the hills and past long prairies. And in such a long, and short time, all at once, for Frodo had never traveled so far with so many before, it seemed to him to be undecided.
At last, Gandalf called for a resting place. Frodo was relieved, and soon, right after he'd found himself a soft spot of green grass, stuck in thoughts of the Shire, as he sat there on the grass, looking into the darkening sky. It was nearly nightfall. His Shire, he remembered fondly, had had the finest beds and warmest blankets, and he wished he had them now. Now, though, the nights were cooling and the Fellowship had only just set out, not a month earlier, and he was always feeling the weight of . . . it, now, he thought sadly. The One Ring, on the necklace that Aragorns mother had given to Aragorn, and that Aragorn had given to Frodo, to keep the ring on, hoping, perhaps, that the ancient love would help hinder the Rings hold. Aragorn had hoped it would bring Frodo luck.
That Ring that hung on Aragorns mothers' necklace, from so long ago, and far away, now hung around his own neck. He urged his hands to stay folded in his lap and to ignore the press of the Ring.
They will try to take me, Frodo. Boromir wishes to gift me to his land and people. He would steal me away from you. You should run, hide, and keep me for yourself. Do you not wish that?
Frodo tried to ignore the voice that whispered to him, but there were precious few moments when the ring was ever, truly ignorable. Sadly, the Ring never was completely silent. The soft, evil hum of it was always there, always beckoning to him.
He turned just in time to see Pippin come up, looking tired but cheerful to be off of the road for a bit. He offered Frodo some food.
"Hullo, Frodo! I've brought you some food."
"Hullo Pippin and thank you. I see Sams made his Cooney Porridge again. We're fortunate to have such a good cook in the Fellowship," Frodo said, smiling and taking the stew from Pippin.
"Aye, and he's lucky to have you as a friend! Say, Frodo? Do you think the Gap of Rohan is very big?"
Frodo thought this an odd question to ask. Though he could not help but wonder, himself, now that Pippin had mentioned it. "I don't know, Pippin. I'd think to ask Gandalf or Strider that, instead of me." But Frodo couldn't help but feel humbled. How many times had Pippin asked about his Uncle Bilbo's maps? And his Uncle Bilbo's adventures? It seemed to be quite awhile, but it had been no earlier nor later that he had asked about it at sun up that very morning, before they had set out again.
Pippin smiled. "Yeah! Maybe he'll know! But I wanted to know if you did. You know old Bilbo's tales so well, and all of his songs and his maps, too, and now we're on our own adventure..."
Pippin went off to Merry, who had called him over for his own food. Frodo watched, thinking of the Shire and of the future. What did the future hold?
He hoped one day to find out.
He went back to his porridge, and looking to the stars, thinking.
I hope you guys liked that. Tell me if it needs anything. T'was just a shorty, before bed.