Over the mountains, across rivers where peace and laughter were the most important of things. In The Shire, Hobbits did prefer the warmth of their homes as Winter forced the flowers to sleep until Spring was upon them. A Baggins' home always had a fire lit. There beside it, sat Frodo Baggins himself. He thought in his mind of his Journey back. When the Quest was over, he had sailed away, and he was never supposed to return. Not here, not to The Shire. Not home. He remembered what he had told his best, and oldest friend: The loyal Samwise Gamgee.
"The Shire has been saved Sam, but not for me."
Recalling his own words, he took a sip of his hot tea, and so oddly, he felt a sense of uncertainty. Just months ago, he had emerged from the woodlands on the border of The Shire. Feeling familiar grounds, he had made his way back to Sam. Knocking on his door, the Autumn chill in his bones, and tears of confusion in his eyes. He had no memory of anything before that, or after his leave. A light snow had started to fall outside, and Frodo turned his head to the window just in time to see the first few flakes. As if on cue, there was a soft knock on the door. It was Sam. Frodo knew that gentle, light hearted knock anywhere. He rushed to the door, it was freezing out there.
"Sam?"
"How are you feeling, Mr. Frodo?" There was excitement in his eyes.
"I'm fine, Sam. What are you doing out? It's freezing."
"Appreciate the hospitality, but-" He shuffled, hands behind his back.
"What are you up to?" Frodo attempted to see what he was hiding, but he quickly moved to avoid him.
"Not yet! It's a surprise!"
"A surprise? For what occasion?"
"A good one, I say so myself."
Sam took Frodo out in the cold of Winter, bundled in coats, they took the nearby forest trails where they found a familiar resting spot. Snow glistened along the trails, and they saw it in the evening light together. Sam with that old sense of awe and wonder, that Frodo wasn't entirely sure he still had. Of course, he still knew the beauty in such things. But after so much dark, the light became something so blinding to him now. It all felt dreamy, and so unreal. But seeing Sam again, seeing him smile, seeing him happy. It made his heart flutter in his chest. It was one thing that was worth seeing. The only bright, never dimming light, that didn't hurt. Sam showed Frodo the "surprise" he had hidden long enough. Fine pipes for the both of them. This was Sam's way of making some catching up for them both. Frodo couldn't tell him much, but was satisfied with just his company. They did what they hadn't done in such a long while. Sam could tell that Frodo had some sort of burden on his mind, but didn't quite question it. He thought that perhaps soon, he'd come around to tell him, and he did.
"Sam?" Frodo watched smoke curl up into the air like reaching fingers.
"Yes, Mr. Frodo?" He turned to look at the pale face that nearly matched the snow, flooded with moonlight like the paths they took.
"When I left, do you remember what I told you?" His eyes stayed fixed on the smoke.
"Of course."
"Why am I here, Sam? I should have gone to Valinor. But I'm here." Frodo's voice displayed a stress that Sam had not heard in some time.
"I don't know, but isn't it a gift?"
"I suppose, but I must wonder. What was the purpose? In all my life, nothing I have witnessed, has happened for no reason." His eyes fell down to his chest, as he thought he had felt the ring on his skin. That familiar feeling.
"Perhaps, we weren't suppose to wonder. Perhaps, it is what it is."
"Perhaps."
And that was that, or it was for the night. After an hour of civil associations, the two parted ways and went to their beds. The next morning, a crowd had gathered outside of Frodo's home. They were all shouting for him to come out. He woke, rubbing his eyes and coming to the window to look out. Not much to his surprise, Gandalf stood amidst the many Hobbits. It was a somewhat unexpected visit from what seemed, a very old friend. Whilst it was still quite the normal thing these days.
Frodo came out upon his doorstep wrapped in a fluffy coat with a questioning glance towards Gandalf, who smiled and nodded a slow nod in return. The snow from last night had made a wonderful blanket all over the ground, and the trees reached into the crisp breeze with icicles hanging down from every which way. His neighbor's cheered in delight as bursts of bright orange and red ribbons exploded from a canister set in the snow. Which set off several others, and successfully distracted them so Gandalf might lead him away from the crowd and his cozy home. Once on a path devoid of white, Gandalf began his explanation before Frodo could ask.
"Listen here, Frodo. I've brought you out so that I might explain the very sudden situation that's come about, I'm sure you must know."
"A situation? You mean that crowd there." Frodo meant to sound sure of himself, but it was more or less still a question.
At this Gandalf raised his frosted brows, and looked down at the Hobbit. "Why, have you not heard?"
"Heard what?" He asked with a tinge of curiosity. But Gandalf fell silent for a time as they walked, thinking deeply and stroking his long grey beard. Frodo had little patience this day, and prodded him for answers.
"Come now, Gandalf. What is it?" But Gandalf kept silent still, not even sharing a glance with him.
"What is the situation? Tell me!" Frodo looked up at the towering wizard in a huff, and Gandalf finally broke away from his thoughts for a moment.
"Oh, ah! Yes, the situation." He turned towards his friend, and placed a hand on the little Hobbit's shoulder. A very suddenly worrisome expression took over the chill-bitten face of the old wizard, and it stirred up an uneasiness in his stomach.
"It seems," Gandalf breathed "that our friends Legolas and Aragorn have fallen into some interesting trouble. Along with Mirkwood as a whole, unfortunately."
"How? What's happened?" Frodo jumped to a new set of questions. His own face took on one of worry as well, but it couldn't be expressed as deeply. For he did not know the whole situation, and Gandalf would not tell him now. He only heaved a weighty sigh, and told the young Hobbit that he must make the journey to the Woodland Realm and speak to his friends. Why he must go, or what had happened, remained a mystery even as he packed for another adventure hours after the wizard had left him standing cold and confused.
Gandalf always knew more than he shared, Frodo knew this. It was fact. Now these new troubles sat on his shoulders, and he hoped he wouldn't need to be a center piece to them soon. Hopefully, it could all be sorted out quite nicely. Though, the whispering folk on the roads the next morning seemed to tell him that it was going to be a difficult time. But he swore to Sam as he said his goodbyes and see-you-laters, that it could never be more difficult than the quest to destroy the ring.
