Young Frodo

by Overlithe


Chapter 47: A Night to Remember

The nagging discomfort in the back of his mind had persisted since his unpleasant arrival at Bag End but finally a few weeks later the coming of Merry for the “camp in” had at last made him forget. Merry was the only one who he felt he belonged with; he’d always been a part of his life and he hoped he always would be.

The two younger Hobbits were comical sizing each other up upon their meeting. They seemed to decide quickly however that tales and treats were far more interesting than deciding who could stand whom on their head.

As the night had progressed and Bilbo had retired the two sat wide-eyed staring at Frodo transfixed by a tale he told. It was a new tale one which neither had heard before, it was not one that even Bilbo knew as it was streaming from Frodo’s mind even as he sat in the dimness of the Parlor, the fire burned low and the logs popped every so often startling one or both of the intent listeners. The smell of wood smoke drifted in the air mingled with the remnants of supper, late night snacks and cider.

…They traveled far to the south to the lands of warmth,
a land where it is said that big people roam the lands and
no hobbits dare live or travel.

“Frodo, if no hobbits go there then where did the tales come from?”

“From the elves of course, Master Meriadoc; where do most tales come from?”

“From Uncle Bilbo.” Merry smiled triumphantly crossing his arms and nodding.

Frodo chuckled, “but where do you think he learned most of his tales?”

“He…. Talks to Elves…really, Mister Frodo?” Sam was nearly on his feet.

“Yes, of course he does. Do you want to hear the tale or not?” Vigorous nodding led Frodo to go on.

And so the night continued, with Frodo telling tales until he was hoarse from answering questions. The thread of the tale taking turns and twists as the teller became drowsy and lost his place and began to speak of things…

Of Kings and white birds and great stone cities with walls upon the mountains and of battles between men and foul creatures, of death and despair and hopelessness. Then he stopped cold in the midst of a sentence with no recollection of what he’d said nor where the tale had taken him.

Sam and Merry looked at each other then at Frodo who had stopped at a crucial point in the tale. He just stared into the fire and when they roused him he would not continue the tale. He got to his feet, looked out the window and proclaimed it too late to finish the adventure. After a snack to counteract the disappointment of the aborted tale the trio was off to bedrolls by the fire, soon the soft sounds of snoring could be heard through out the smial.

Frodo lay awake for some time trying to recall what he was last saying, something about a great stone city. Ah well, he thought, it must have been something Bilbo had told him once and in his sleepy state it had come into his tale, but his imagination had given him such a clear picture of the place it was eerie.

He looked at the two lads sleeping nearby and smiled as he drifted off, it was certainly a night they will remember even if I can’t seem to do so myself.


He woke in the early twilight, the cold before the dawn. He sat straight up and looked to the window where the first light could be just barely seen. He felt like he’d not slept at all and indeed he most likely hadn’t, not much, he’d forgotten how loudly Merry could snore and Samwise…Well, who have thought that such a racket could be caused by someone who was sleeping. But sometime in the night he had slept because the dreams he’d had still lay just beneath his consciousness. It was all the tales he decided, he never slept well if he thought about the outside world too much. And there was something strangely disturbing about including the two younger lads in his fantasies of travel and adventure…the way their eyes lit up at the suggestion that life existed out side the boarders of the shire. Today he would have to try to counteract the tales with some good hearty Shire fun, good plain hobbit talk.

Some how Frodo knew it would not be the last time he’d have adventures with the likes of these two, either in tales or in life there was more to the new friendships and close connection than could be accounted for and something in his dreams…. there was something about his dreams that made him know. Yes there would be much more of this much, much more.