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Author's Chapter Notes:
This has been an idea in the back of my mind for a while, and after working on plots for two stories at once, I needed a brake. Of course it had to be about Frodo, who else? ;P If you don't know me...well, now you know my weakness. Anyways, I would love to hear and feedback from fellow hobbit lovers or anyone in general. Hope you enjoy it,

Frodo sat at the end of his bed, fingering the designs in the quilt Sam's wife had made for him. It depicted mostly scenes of nature and stars, some he was sure, must've been inspired from what Sam told her about the elves. He was grateful for Rose allowing him to stay at Bag End. It was his home after all, but somehow with her, Sam, and a baby on the way; he felt like he was intruding.

He gasped and his breathing became shallow. It's gone. It's never coming back.. A panic rose in him and his hand searched franticly until it found the white gem hanging around his neck. He clutched it and closed his eyes.

Memories swam unwillingly to the front of his eyes. He was standing above a pool of water. Galadriel's reflection shone in the surface as images appeared. He begged them not to, but they seemed to mock him. The Shire was burning, burning, over and over again. It was destroyed and blackened, and smoke filled the sky. Stop No... The scene changed. He couldn't breathe again. The air was thick and dark, he couldn't see anything.

Aiya Earendil Elenion Ancalima!

It came as a frightened whisper, almost a pleading. He repeated it over and over, growing fainter with each word until he only mouthed the words. He opened his eyes, but all he saw was a vague mist. He thought distantly it was better than what had haunted him before, but he was only spared a moment before a sharp pain pierced his neck. He yelled in shock and agony until he heard someone calling him.

"Frodo dear! Frodo!"

Rose shook him gently and squeezed his hand. She knew what was wrong, but she felt completely useless. At last after a few minutes he stopped crying out and fell into a troubled sleep. She went into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and a damp cloth. She placed it on his forehead and sat beside him not sure of what to do. After what seemed an hour he awoke, groggy and confused. He blinked slowly and looked around.

"Oh, Rose. I'm so sorry." said Frodo weakly, seeing the troubled look on her face.

"No, dear. It's fine. It's fine." She said flustered. She bent down with great effort to retrieve the cloth that had fallen to the side of the bed. She was extremely pregnant and Frodo had a feeling she would be delivering any day now.

He reached down and handed it up to her, gasping as the pain throbbed in his neck. Tears stung his eyes and lied back down not daring to move.

"Thank you." She said. It seemed the only thing to say after the awkward moment.

She cleared her throat and asked gently "Do you want me to send for Sam?"

"No." He said firmly.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine." He lied.

"You're not well."

He was quiet for a long while and Rose thought he had fallen asleep again until he said "Please don't tell him. I don't want him to worry."

Rose hesitated for a long while then sighed "Alright."

"Thank you Rose, for everything. You've been very kind and patient." Frodo added.

She saw again that his eyes were closed and that he was the clutching the gem around his neck. And for just a moment the tension was gone, and a peaceful other-worldly expression rested in his face.

"Your welcome."
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