I Will Return

*Hi all! This is my first Frodo fan fiction. I was inspired to write this by all those really good (non-slash) Frodo fics out there and also by my love of the Hobbits, which I think are the coolest characters, besides Elves. So here you go enjoy and review! And I might be a bit slow updating because I have other fics on FictionPress.net I’m trying to finish up.* Ciao!

House-warming Gifts

As Frodo Baggins walked up the path to Bag-End he breathed in the fresh mid-morning breeze that wafted over the rolling green hills of the Shire. He began to whistle. “What a beautiful day!” Frodo thought as he walked up to the gate of Bag-End and entered in. He chuckled and shook his head at the sign Bilbo had Sam post on the gate earlier that day: “No admittance except on party business.”

As Frodo reached for the doorknob of the green door he heard the murmur of two voices punctuated by a giggle or two, inside the house. Frodo opened the door and followed the sound to the kitchen. There he found Sam handing Rosie a small bouquet of purple lilacs. Rosie blushed and giggled.

“Oh, thank-you, Sam! But all I needed was a few ounces of rosewater.”

“I know,” answered Sam, turning red himself, “but, I know lilac’s are your favorite flowers n’ all, I just figured . . . they bein’ so pretty and sweet smellin’ an’ all, they reminded me of you.” Sam went crimson and dug at the wooden floorboards with his big toe.

“Oh, Sam . . I-” Suddenly the blushing Rosie spotted Frodo watching them with a grin, but once she turned to him he averted his eyes trying to make it look like he hadn’t been watching. But Rosie wasn’t fooled. “I’d better go Mr. Samwise, father will be expecting me back soon. Thank-you again for the flowers.”

“Oh, and the rosewater!” Sam cried going to the cupboard and pulling out a small jar of liquid. “Here you go, Miss Cotton.”

“Thank-you. Nice to see you again Mr. Frodo,” Rosie said with a red face as she passed by him and went out the door.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Frodo for shirkin’ my duties like that an’ chit-chattin’ with Rosie an’ all.”

“That quite all right, Sam. I don’t mind. You know, you should escort Rosie to Uncle Bilbo’s party the night after tomorrow’s night.”

“Oh, I couldn’t Mr. Frodo, I’m too afraid she’ll say no.”

“She could say yes, but you’ll never know until you ask her.”

“I suppose so, Mr. Frodo.”

Frodo watched Sam as he moved mechanically about with a dreamy expression on his face. Frodo grinned and shook his head. Love. He thought it was sweet and all, but only when it was affecting other people. Frodo had never been in love because he found the Shire girls his age to be too silly.

Bilbo soon walked in, breaking Frodo’s train of thought.

“Ah, finally done wooing for the day, eh, Sam?”

Sam was now as red as a tomato. Frodo saved him with: “how about some tea, Sam.”

“Oh, sure thing Mr. Frodo.”

“Tea for me too, Samwise, if you please,” Bilbo said.

“Only if you promise to tell me about the Elves, sir while I’m making it.”

“Of course, lad my pleasure,” Bilbo replied, with his eyes sparkling.

“I’ll fetch some seed-cake,” Frodo said.

“Seed-cake,” Bilbo murmured. “Frodo!” the hazel headed hobbit stopped.

“That reminds me,” Bilbo continued, “I want you to take some of our seed-cake over to the new residents a few holes down. Sort of a house-warming gift from you and I. Could you do that for me while we wait for the water to boil?”

“But, Bilbo-”

“Frodo, it’s the neighborly thing to do, what is the matter? Feeling shy?” Bilbo said the last comment with a teasing grin.

“It’s not that, Uncle Bilbo it’s just . . the new neighbors have a daughter in her late tweens. I must admit that I am not anxious to meet her. Girls at my age so silly and if they take a liking to you they become like a second shadow and follow everywhere.”

Bilbo laughed. “You’re still going.”

“But-”

“Frodo, I’ll admit that you do have a point. I would go myself but, these legs aren’t as strong as they used to be.” Suddenly a shadow crept over Bilbo’s face. He reached a hand into his pocket and began to finger something. Frodo did not notice though, for he was too wrapped up in his own little plight.

Then Bilbo took his hand out of his pocket and immediately brightened up. “It’s not so bad Frodo, from what I saw of her this morning, she didn’t seem empty headed.”

Frodo walked out the door of Bag-End with a wrapped up seed cake in hand. His heart sank as he thought of the inevitable meeting with the hobbit lass.

“Another empty headed giggle box,” he thought to himself. Frodo reached the house and rapped softly on the front door.

Immediately the door opened and Frodo beheld the sweetest face he had ever seen. A hobbit lass in her late tweens greeted him. Her intelligent green eyes were the first things that really struck Frodo about her. Her curly hazel hair sat on her on her shoulders which were covered by the maroon dress she was wearing, which was accompanied by a dark green bodice around her waist.

“Hello,” she said her voice middle-pitched and dulcet.

“G-Good morrow, miss.” Frodo then collected his wits and cleared his throat. “I’m Frodo Baggins of Bag End. I live a few holes down from you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Frodo Baggins.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine, miss . . ?”

“Peony . . . Peony Turnbuckle.”

“ . . Miss Turnbuckle. I brought a seed-cake for you and your family as a sort of house-warming present, compliments of my Uncle Bilbo and I.”

“Thank-you so much!” Peony said, gingerly taking the cake from Frodo’s hands. “Won’t you please come inside?” Frodo hesitated, then figured he had enough time and followed Peony inside the hobbit-hole.



“So,” Peony said as she led Frodo to the kitchen, “your uncle is the famous Bilbo Baggins!”

Frodo laughed. “That’s right!” Bilbo was the most respected hobbit in town. Well, maybe not as respected as he used to be before he went off on the adventure, but still greatly respected.



“Oh, I would love to hear him tell one of his stories!”

“You would?” Frodo asked, surprised.

“Oh, yes! I find them so exciting!”

Frodo was taken aback. This was different. Every girl his age that he knew had no interest in Bilbo’s stories and legends of Middle Earth. They dismissed them as either boring or childish and went off to braid ribbons and flowers into each other’s hair. Frodo stared at this curious hobbit lass for a moment then said:

“Most girls don’t care to hear my uncle’s stories. Well, not the girls around here anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I would love to.”

Frodo felt his heart skip a beat and scolded himself. “Remember Frodo, this is probably just another silly Shire girl. Even if she does like your uncles stories, she probably spends the usual entirety of her day gossiping with the other lassies, like all the other girls do.”

Peony began slicing up the seed cake and hummed as she did so. When she finished, Peony served a slice to Frodo along with a pot of tea which she had been preparing earlier. Then she served herself and sat down.

“So, what’s all this talk about a big party being thrown soon?”

“Oh, Uncle Bilbo’s one hundred and eleventh birthday party is going to be held in three days.”

“Which reminds me . .” Frodo glanced at the grandfather clock which he could see sitting in the next room. “I have to go help prepare!”

Frodo jumped out of his chair and bowed quickly to Peony. “It was nice meeting you! Perhaps I will see you later!” Frodo then rushed out of the house.

After he had gone Peony said softly,

“I hope so.”