A knock woke me. I rubbed my eyes to get the sleep out of them. Suddenly, everything came back to me: waking up in Middle Earth, being a Hobbit, being Sam Gamgee's sister, all of it. I sat up quickly, sleep gone from my eyes. I went to the bedroom door and opened it. A hobbit woman was standing there, and somehow, I immediately knew it was my mother. Not my real mother, but Dawn Gamgee's mother. The feeling that I got, though, was that this woman was my mother and she had always been my mother. I said, "Good morning, Ma."

"Good morning, Dawn," Ma replied with a smile. "I know I don't normally wake you, but you slept very late this morning. Are you feeling alright, dear?"

"Yes, Ma. I just must have been very tired."

"You must have been, though I suppose it's not unexpected, what with you staying up at Bag End reading and listening to stories late into the night."

"I'll try to get in earlier next time."

"Alright. Your father's waiting for you at breakfast. He wants to get most of the decorations up today, he says."

"I'll be out in a moment, then." My mother shuts the door, and I lean on it. It's a pine wood door, and I breathe the scent in and out as I relive the conversation. I've been staying late at Bag End, listening to stories? Memories flood my mind, memories I've never had before. Most of them are just three people: me, Frodo, and Bilbo. My mind tells me that there are older ones, which are the ones where we are gathered around a fireplace and Bilbo will have a book open on his lap or in his hands and be reading from it while Frodo and I, apparently very young, sit at his feet and listen to him. Then newer ones, where we are all sitting in very comfortable armchairs around the fireplace, and each of us has a book, and every once in a while one of us looks up and reads aloud part of the book that was really interesting or poetic.

Finally, one last memory comes to the front, and I know it's from last night...

I'm bent over a book, reading it and enjoying the story of heroes and villains of the First Age, like Turin Turambar and the dragon Glaurung. There's a poem, and because I know a little Elvish, I try to translate it myself; but then I get stuck on a word I can't decipher. Frodo suddenly appears behind me and looks over my shoulder. "You were muttering," he says. "What are you reading?"

I look up at him. "It's the tale of the children of Hurin. While I was reading, I came across this poem in Elvish. I was mentally translating it; that must have been the muttering. But I'm stuck now. What does this word mean?" I pointed at the offending word.

He peers at it. "Hmm, that is galadhremmin, which means 'enmeshed with trees.' It's a term that the Elves used to describe Middle Earth a long time ago, when there were not very many people living here, just the trees and the animals. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand. Thank you, Mr. Frodo." I was looking down at the word while he explained, but now I look up again and smile. He gives me a smile in return.

Pushing myself off the door, I turned and walked to the dresser that I knew would be there. I took out my favorite dress, a light blue one, and put it on. Then I braided my hair in the way that I always did, and walked out the door to the kitchen where breakfast was waiting.

It was like I had been living two lives. One was the one in the normal world, on Earth, where I was just 22 and trying to find a job. The other was on Middle Earth, where I was a hobbit, a member of the Gamgee family, and good friends with the Bagginses. I'd never had memories of both places before, but now that I was in Middle Earth, all of my hobbit life was coming to me. My feet took me on a path through a home that was at once strange and familiar to me, and I soon reached the kitchen. The Gaffer was sitting at the table, enjoying a breakfast of eggs and sausage. I joined him, and Ma put a plate of food in front of me. I began eating as the Gaffer told me his plans.

"We're going to set up all the tables and tents today, as well as fence off the area where the ovens and stoves will be for the cooks. We'll go down to the Ivy Bush for a pint and some lunch, and then we'll do some gardening." I nodded assent and soon we were on our way from Number 3 Bagshot Row up the Hill to the Party Tree. Pieces of wooden tables were laid in a neat pile by the roots of the tree, and we used these to put together tables around the large clearing. Then some other hobbits, such as the Cotton boys, came over to help with the tents, since tents are tricky business. Four were needed to hold the ropes tight, and four were needed to push the poles into place, and one was needed to tell everyone what to do. The Gaffer took the role as the yeller of instructions, and I grabbed a rope. After much confusion and yelling, we finally got the big pavilion up over the Party Tree. The same process was repeated for all the other tents.

The boys went off to build the fence around the open-air kitchen. I was about to join them when a dwarf with red hair and beard arrived pulling a wagon full of beautiful crystal lanterns. He began hanging them in the Party Tree, and I very much wanted to help him. I approached him and said, "Sir, may I help you hang the lanterns?"

He turned to me and said, "Certainly, miss, if you don't call me sir. I'm a woman." My eyes widened, and I was about to apologize when she chuckled and said, "Don't worry, missy, it's a common mistake. Now, if you'll climb up into the tree, I'll toss you lanterns to hang in the higher branches." I scrambled up the tree, and soon the lanterns were all hung on every branch, without a single one broken from tossing.

"How do we light them?" I asked as I began the climb down.

"Gandalf will see to that, to be sure," the she-dwarf replied. "He's got a way with fire and lights." She smiled at me, and then began rolling the wagon back to wherever it had come from. The Gaffer walked over to me then and said, "Time for lunch, Dawn. Down to the Ivy Bush we go." I laughed and followed him down the hill.

The Ivy Bush is a small inn that stands on the Bywater Road, and it is the Gaffer's favorite watering hole. As we took a seat near to the fireplace, for the Gaffer's joints were creaking bad today, people gathered round to ask him questions about the "queer Bagginses" and the way they lived. Even though he'd told the story hundreds of times, the Gaffer was asked again how Frodo's father died, and how he came to live at Bag End after being rescued from the dreadful queerness of Buckland. Then came the subject of all the silver and gold and jewels that Bilbo must have tucked away in his home, whole tunnels filled with them. The Gaffer said that there weren't any tunnels filled with treasure. "But my daughter Dawn will know more about that," he said, pointing to me. "She's in and out of Bag End. Crazy about stories of the old days, she is, and she listens to all of Mr. Bilbo's tales. Mr. Bilbo has learned her her letters – meaning no harm, mark you, and I hope no harm will come of it.

"'Elves and dragons!' I says to her. 'Cabbages and potatoes are better for me and you. Don't go getting mixed up in the business of your betters, or you'll land in trouble too big for you,' I says to her. Don't I say that, eh, Dawn?"

"Aye, Gaffer, you do, many a times when I come home late from reading up at Bag End, and my head so full of stories they come right back out my mouth."

"And I might say it to others," he said, looking at the miller, who he had never really liked. But the miller waved it away and said that Bilbo must have been adding to what he already had, what with all the "outlandish" folk coming to his hole in the middle of the night. I had enough.

"If you call the Bagginses queer," I said. "Then we could use more queerness around here. I bet that some of you wouldn't give a pint of beer to a friend if you lived in a hole with golden walls. But they do things proper at Bag End. Everyone's going to be invited to the party, and there's going to be presents for all." Most of the other hobbits were quieted, but the miller, Sandyman, and a stranger moved to a different corner and continued talking about it. The Gaffer and I paid for our meals and left. As we walked back up the Hill, the Gaffer said, "I think I'll let you do all the gardening. My joints are aching me awful today. Remember, the potatoes may be ready to be pulled up by now."

"Aye, Gaffer, I'll remember. Go home and rest now." I hugged him and continued on to Bag End.

From my Dawn-memories, I remembered that we kept a certain amount of gardening tools in a little shed near the back door of Bag End. Arriving there, I selected a few that I knew I would need and went to gardening. I trimmed a few bushes and watered all the plants with a little wooden watering can, taking care not to damage the more delicate flowers. The potatoes were indeed ready to be harvested, and I gathered them all in my apron to take into Bag End and wash. As I was washing them in the kitchen under the flow of water from the pump, Frodo entered. He was wearing dark green trousers with the suspenders hanging loose from his waist, instead of over his shoulders, and a tan linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up and three buttons undone. In his hands were a plate and a mug, which he placed on the table beside the pump before greeting me.

"Good afternoon, Dawn. How's the weather today?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Frodo. It's a lovely day out; the flowers are blooming and the potatoes were ready to be brought in."

"I see that. Have the lilies bloomed yet?"

"Oh, yes, they have. Large, beautiful blooms, too, and very sweet-smelling." I looked up at him as I scrubbed potatoes, smiling. He smiled back.

"That's wonderful. I think I'll have a walk today and see them."

"That sounds nice."

"You should come along with me, Dawn."

I looked at him, eyes wide. "Me, come with you? Whatever for?"

"I enjoy spending time with you," he said sincerely, looking straight back into my eyes. "The woods are beautiful, and you say the flowers are too, and there is a place out in the woods where I love to just sit and read. We'll take some books and a picnic basket, and we'll go for a walk. How does that sound?"

"Well, it sounds lovely, but I'm sure there are other things I should be doing to help get ready for the big party-"

Frodo cut me off. "Just come with me. No one will miss you for a couple hours, and there are plenty of other folks working on the preparations. Everyone needs a break, and this is yours. Come and relax with me."

I gave in after a few more minutes, the thought of having a picnic with Frodo Baggins too inviting to pass up. When I'd read the books for the first time, I'd fallen in love with Frodo. It was his enduring spirit and determination that made me love him, and it didn't matter that he was a fictional character. He was the perfect guy for me, and if I was going to marry someone, they'd have had to be like him. But now I was in Middle Earth, in the Shire, with Frodo Baggins, and I loved him more than before. As I finished washing the potatoes and Frodo walked off to get a basket, I thought again about why I was here. I had obviously taken Sam's place in the gardener-master relationship with Frodo, but how far was that relationship going to go? How far should it go?

I wondered what would happen to the story if Frodo and I fell in love, got married, had kids, all in the period of about twenty years between him inheriting the Ring and starting on the journey to destroy it. I placed the washed potatoes in their storage bin and came to the conclusion that I should probably live life normally here and not try to keep from changing anything. If Frodo and I fell in love, then it was meant to be. I didn't know how long I was going to be here, but however long a time it was, I was going to treat it like I had treated life on Earth: I would deal with events as they came.

Together, Frodo and I packed the basket with food, drink, and books and tucked a folded blanket over it to keep it safe. Then I removed my apron and left it on the kitchen table as I followed Frodo out the back door and over the little fence into the woods, the basket swinging on my arm. He led me to a little hollow with a small pond at its center, fed by a little stream and all of it ringed by trees. I sat the basket on the ground between two trees, and then said, "This place is beautiful. How did you find it?" I wandered around the hollow, admiring the flowers and trees.

"Bilbo showed it to me when I first came to live with him. It was his place to hide from his parents when he was young, and then it became mine, to hide from him."

"Does it work? I mean, if this was his hiding spot, doesn't he know where you are when you've disappeared?"

"He hasn't found me yet. I suppose nothing has been so important yet that he'll come out here to get me." He laughed.

I laughed too, and then noticed something by our picnic basket. "Do you think you could teach me to speak Elvish, Frodo?"

"Of course."

"Right now?"

"I suppose so. Why?"

"There's an adorable fox by our basket. I want to see if I can talk to him and get him to let me pet him."

Frodo laughed. "Here's what you say." And he said a phrase in Elvish, and I repeated it as best I could. The fox looked up at us, but didn't come over. I tried many times, but the fox just continued ignoring me. I got frustrated and gave up, deciding it was time to eat. I laid the blanket out between the two trees, and arranged the food on it, with space for Frodo and I to sit. We ate as we talked, laughing and joking. I looked away for a moment, pouring more wine for us, when I heard Frodo speaking softly in Elvish. When I turned back around, the fox from earlier was sniffing Frodo's hand, which held a piece of chicken. The fox gingerly took the chicken, then consented to let Frodo pet him as he ate it.

I couldn't resist. I pulled my journal out from the basket along with a piece of charcoal and began to sketch Frodo and the fox. I was having trouble capturing the curls of Frodo's hair, and I must have been scowling, for suddenly Frodo asked, "What's troubling you?"

"Oh, this drawing. I can't get your hair right. The curls are too perfect." I threw my hands up.

He scooted closer to me and looked over my shoulder at the drawing. "I don't know what you mean. It's amazing." I snorted. "Really. I've never seen such detail before." He looked at me. I avoided his gaze. "I didn't know you could draw." He placed his hand on my cheek and gently turned my face to look at him. My breath caught as I stared into his eyes; they were such a beautiful dark blue. Then my eyes darted to his lips: they were parted slightly, and moist from the wine. Unconsciously, I licked my own lips. He smiled, and I saw his eyes look at my own lips, and then, ever so softly, he leaned in and kissed me.

It was blissful, to say the least. It lasted for about ten seconds, and then he pulled away and looked at me. I smiled, slowly, and then I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him back down to me. Our lips touched, and then he moved his against mine, opening his mouth. I opened mine, and his taste filled me. We kissed until we were out of breath, and then we leaned against each other, our foreheads touching, arms embracing. We were content in each other's company for a while.

Then Frodo reached over with one hand and picked up a book. "This is my favorite book, and I always read it in my favorite spot. Do you want to see where it is?"

"Of course," I replied. We stood, and Frodo put his arm around my waist, never letting go throughout the walk. He led me to a large tree with a small depression at its base where the grass was flattened. "This is it," he said. "It's the perfect place to sit and read. Although I always thought it was a bit too big for just one person." I laughed and we sat down. I curled up beside him as he put his arm around me, and we read his favorite book together.

Thirty minutes in, Frodo looked up and said, "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" I asked, straightening.

"That humming. Someone's humming Bilbo's song."

I listened harder. Then I smiled as I realized who it was. But I didn't say I knew who it was; instead I asked, "Who is it?"

Frodo smiled. "Come and see." He helped me to my feet, grabbed my hand, and led me at a run through the woods. We emerged atop a little hill that had been cut into to make room for the road. Frodo let go of my hand and stood right on the very edge, his arms crossed. Soon a cart drawn by a single horse appeared, and in it sat an old man wrapped in a gray cloak, with a tall pointed hat and a long beard. I knew it was Gandalf. "You're late," Frodo said.

Gandalf slowly looked up at him. "A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." They stared at each other, and then Gandalf began to chuckle, and Frodo laughed and jumped to the cart to give Gandalf a hug.

"It's good to see you, Gandalf!" he said.

"It's good to see you, too, my boy," Gandalf replied. "And who is this?" His gaze was directed towards me now. "Good gracious me, is that young Dawn Gamgee?"

"Yes, it is," I said. "Pleasure to see you, sir."

"The pleasure is mine, young lady. Come, sit with us." I smiled and jumped into the cart as well; Frodo caught hold of my waist to keep me from falling backwards. I sat and listened as Frodo told Gandalf of Bilbo and the reputation he had made for Bagginses.

"You've been officially labeled a disturber of the peace," Frodo said.

"Is that so?" Gandalf looked around to see many of the older hobbits squinting at him suspiciously. "Dear me." We passed a few more minutes in silence, then Frodo stood and got ready to jump off the cart; I joined him. "Gandalf," he said. "I'm glad you're back."

"So am I, dear boy," Gandalf replied. Then Frodo jumped off, but kept running alongside the cart to catch me when I jumped. We landed in a heap on the ground, laughing. We stood and brushed each other off, then went and fetched the picnic things from the little hollow and went home.

Bilbo's birthday party was magnificent. It was everything and more than what had been in the books. There was much food and laughter and drink and songs and dancing. There was the large pavilion by the Party Tree that was for the relatives of Frodo and Bilbo only, with exceptions like Gandalf, and, apparently, me. Frodo gave me a chair on the other side of him from Bilbo. I cheered along with the hobbits as Bilbo began his speech. And when he put on the Ring and disappeared from sight, I gasped with everyone else, pretending to be confused. Frodo, I noticed, was trying very hard to keep from laughing; then he ordered more wine to be sent around, stood, drained his glass, and walked out of the pavilion. I followed him.

When we were sufficiently far away enough, I asked, "How did he do it, Frodo? How did Bilbo disappear?"

Frodo appeared to be making a decision, and then he said, "Bilbo has a ring that he found on his adventures. It's a magic ring. Whoever wears it turns invisible. It was supposed to be a joke, just between me and him. He's leaving, you know. Going away for good. Bag End's mine now."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes, I think so. I would have liked to go with him, to have one of his adventures, but I'm happy being here in the Shire. For one thing, you're here, not in some distant country."

"Of course I'm here. What does that have to do with anything?" It was a good thing it was dark, otherwise Frodo would have seen me blushing.

"It has to do a lot with everything." Frodo stopped walking and grabbed my hand to keep me with him. "I wouldn't want to go anywhere without you, Dawn. You're my best friend. You're the one who learned Elvish with me from Bilbo. You read with me by the fireplace late into the night, then go home, get an inadequate night's sleep, come to Bag End to do the gardening, and then you read with me again. You know the ins and outs of Bag End as well as I do." He paused. "You're the only thing keeping me here, Dawn. Otherwise I think I would have gone with Bilbo." He leaned down and kissed me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

When we broke apart, I said, "I think I like being what keeps you here."

"I like it too," he replied, and kissed me again. This kiss was only a few seconds, then he pulled away and said, "Come, I want to try to catch Bilbo one last time before he goes." We hurried up the Hill to Bag End, where we found Gandalf sitting in the dark. "Has he gone?" Frodo asked.

"Yes," answered Gandalf. "He has gone at last."

"I wish I had come back sooner, just to see him off." I felt a twinge of guilt as I thought of our kisses and the feelings he'd confided.

"I think really he preferred slipping off quietly in the end. He left a packet it for you on the mantelpiece." Frodo took it, but barely looked at it. "You'll find his will and all the other documents in there, as well as a golden ring."

"The ring! Has he left me that? I wonder why."

"I should not make use of it, if I were you. But keep it secret, and keep it safe! Now I am going to bed." Gandalf stood and left the room. Frodo turned to me.

"Well, now I have the ring. I wonder if I'll ever have need of it."

"I should hope not. Gandalf said you shouldn't. He seems to be someone to listen to for advice on things like the ring."

"I know, and I do. But it wouldn't it be fun to just-" Suddenly, Frodo disappeared. I saw the envelope on the floor, opened. He'd put the Ring on. I looked around, trying to detect any shadow or indication of where he was, but I couldn't. I was about to say something when he grabbed me and spun me around, then dipped me down backwards. I gasped in astonishment and said, "Frodo!" Then he was kissing me, and I melted. But some part of my brain was telling me that it was not good that he was wearing the Ring, and so my hands found his and the Ring, and I slowly pulled it off. Frodo pulled away.

"Gandalf said you shouldn't wear the ring," I breathed.

"It was just the once," he replied. He stood me upright. "But you're right. I won't use it again." He held his hand out for it. I set it gently in the palm of his hand; he placed it in his pocket.

"I should go home. Gaffer will be wondering where I am."

"You're right. Good night, Dawn. Sleep well."

"Good night, Mr. Frodo." I smiled at him, then left Bag End and headed home.

The next day, I spent my time helping to clean up the field after the party, and when hobbits began to show up to receive the gifts Bilbo had left for them, the Gaffer had me stand in front and make sure no one trampled the garden. The Gaffer and I retreived our gifts early, so as to avoid the rush, but I didn't get a chance until later to look at them. First I had to keep the Sackville-Bagginses from beating down the door, and then I rounded up some youngsters who were trying to sneak in through the back door, and finally I told everyone that the gift-giving was all done and that they could leave now. I darted into Bag End with Merry and held the door shut as he locked it.

I sighed then and said, "Did hear about what Sancho Proudfoot did to the pantry?"

"Yes," Merry said. "He knocked some holes into the walls, didn't he?"

"Yes. I hope they're not very bad."

"What do you say we go see how bad?" I nodded and walked with him to the pantry, where we found large, ragged holes in the wall. Apparently Sancho had heard an echo in the pantry and had immediately decided to find the treasure that he assumed was hidden in the walls. We checked the other rooms in the house and found holes in one of the cellars.

"Doesn't tea sound very nice right now?" I asked as we finished our examination.

Merry laughed and said, "Indeed it does." I led the way to the kitchen, where I found Frodo already fixing himself a cup. "What, tea without us?" I asked, faking indignance.

"Tea without Merry, surely," Frodo replied with a smile. "But had I known you would be joining us, I would have set the whole table with biscuits and pie."

"Just tea is fine, Mr. Frodo." I took two cups from the cupboard and poured tea for Merry and I. I felt Frodo watching me as I moved about his kitchen. Merry left the kitchen with his tea, saying he was going to go see what could be done about the holes in the pantry and the cellar. I sat down across from Frodo, then asked, "Where's Gandalf?"

"He left already. He had one or two more things to say to me about the ring, mostly cautioning me not to use it. I saw him off just a few minutes before you two came in for tea." I nodded. He was silent for a moment, then he asked, "Have you looked at what Bilbo left you yet?" I shook my head. "Go get it and bring it here. I want to see how you react to what he's given you." I fetched the gift, hidden under one of the guest beds to keep it out of unwanted hands. It was a small, rather heavy trunk, with a lock and key. I opened it. On the very top, there was a large book with Elvish writing on the front. I gasped as I realized what book it was.

"He gave me his book of the history of the elder days of Middle Earth?"

"Yes, he did. He knew how much you loved reading tales of heroes and villains, and especially of elves, so he left you that book. But there's more than that."

I sat the book to the side and pulled out something wrapped in brown paper. There were three somethings wrapped in paper: three dresses. A note fell from one of them as I unfolded it from its wrappings. It was from Bilbo and read something like this:

Dear Dawn,

These dresses belonged to my mother when she was young, and I inherited them, along

with many others, when she died. I gave all but these three away to various neices

throughout the years. I was saving these three for someone really special, or for

someone's really special birthday. Then Frodo began to take an interest in you, and you

became our gardener, and a very dear and close friend to us Bagginses. So I decided you

should be the one to have these final three dresses. They should fit you well, though I

daresay you're skilled enough with a needle and thread to fix them should they not fit. I

hope you like these and the others gifts I've left for you in this trunk, which is in itself a

gift.

Best wishes and all my love,

Bilbo Baggins

Eight words kept repeating in my head: Frodo began to take an interest in you. I looked up from the note; Frodo was staring at me pleasantly, waiting for my reaction. I cocked an eyebrow and said, "Bilbo says you've taken an interest in me?"

His expression turned into one of flabbergasted confusion, but I also detected a hint of embarrassment. He also blushed. "He said that? I didn't think he would. I merely mentioned to him once that I enjoyed your company while we were reading."

"I thought you more than enjoyed my company last night and the day before in the woods." I blushed too then, as I thought of our kisses.

He cleared his throat and said, "Well, anyway, that's beside the point. Do you like the dresses?"

"Yes, I love them. They do look like they'll fit me fine."

"They look a bit big to me. You might have to take them in at the waist."

"Oh you think so?" I cocked my eyebrow again, and he suddenly realized that he'd just given away the fact that he'd been looking at me so much that he could tell if a dress would be too big or too small. He blushed a deeper red, but I saved him and moved on to my next gifts. There were a few pieces of Bilbo's mother's jewelry, a well of green ink with a swan feather quill, and special paper just for drawing. I folded the dresses and put everything back in the trunk neatly, then shut it and locked it. I added the key to the one already around my neck.

Then I stood and went over to Frodo. "Thank you for the gifts, Frodo. I know you had a hand in helping him choose what to give to me. Happy birthday." I leaned in and kissed him, wrapping my fingers in his dark curls and pulling him to me. I barely registered the footsteps approaching, and then there was a cough. Frodo and I jumped apart; Merry was standing at the entrance, barely concealing a smile. "The holes in the walls in the pantry and cellar should be easily fixed," he said. "Just some new plaster and paint, that's all that's needed." He looked between Frodo and I. "Well, now that you know, I think I'll leave you two to whatever you were doing while I was gone." He winked, we both blushed, and then he left.

I looked at Frodo shyly, then moved to pick up my trunk. He stood and stopped me, pulling me back in for another kiss. Then he pulled away and said, "You're very welcome, Dawn. Let me help you with your trunk." He carried it home for me, then went back to Bag End. As I went to bed that night, I thought of Frodo up there all alone, in a big hole with no one but himself. It made me sort of sad.