A/N: This story is AU in later chapters.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings

Home is Where the Heart is

Off the Ship

I step off the ship ahead of Gandalf, who is helping my uncle, Bilbo Baggins, off onto dry ground. This place is amazing, perhaps more beautiful than the Shire. I find myself thinking with a pang of guilt. All around me are fair elf maidens, stone buildings, much resembling Rivendell in Middle Earth. In a way, it is as if I am indeed in Rivendell on my quest to destroy the Ring, yet without having that burden. I feel only half alive. The Ring took so much of me away; it feels as if a part of me was destroyed with the Ring in Mordor.

I find myself wishing I were back in the Shire with my old gardener and best friend, Samwise Gamgee, and my relatives, Merry and Pippin. The Took part drew me out of the Shire, longing for another adventure, and now the Baggins part of me is drawing me back to it. My life was so simple before the Ring came to me. I was in love with the Shire, never hearing of the evil things that happened in the outside world. My life was so sheltered. When I came back, everything was so dry, so bland, so boring, too simple compared to the complex way of living I had grown so used to. I have barely spoken a word since the ship departed.

My stomach grumbles. I will have to grow accustomed to eating only three meals a day – again. The one disappointment to all Hobbits – no second breakfast, no elevensies, no afternoon tea, no supper – only breakfast, luncheon and dinner. How did I make it those years without six meals a day? How did Uncle Bilbo live in Rivendell those two years? Maybe it was his odd old age of eleventy-one, or maybe not as I am fifty-two, and he is now one hundred and thirty years old.

Uncle Bilbo seems at home here already as I watch him sit down with Gandalf in an arm chair in front of the fireplace. Me? I feel out of place amongst all the tall, fair elves. I long to go back to the Shire, but that’s nigh impossible.

Gandalf and my uncle exchange a few words and Uncle Bilbo leaves. I approach Gandalf slowly, hoping he won’t notice me so I can collect my thoughts.

"Is something the matter, Frodo?" he asks, smoking his pipe, making puffy, white rings.

I sit for a while, debating whether or not to tell him. "Yes." I say finally.

Gandalf looks into my eyes, trying to figure out what ails me. "The Ring?"

"Partially." I cast my gaze on the fire.

"And the other part?" he asks, obviously concerned.

"I miss the Shire," I reply simply. "Sam, Merry, Pippin…even the Sackville-Bagginses! But, I couldn’t bear not to see Uncle Bilbo, or, or – you, Gandalf. You believed in me when I started on a nearly hopeless journey. The Ring would never have been destroyed if it weren’t for you. I would have stayed in the Shire with the Ring taking hold of me and those wraiths would have come to the Shire and destroyed it. Sauron would have control of the world by now.

"You give me too much credit, lad." Gandalf shifts his staff from its position on his lap to use it to stand up in one fluid motion. "I’ve got some business to attend to, Frodo. I’ll be back." Gandalf leaves me on my own to think.

My mind goes back to the Shire and Bag End. I barely notice Uncle Bilbo coming back in. He can tell I am thinking, but asks somewhat eagerly, somewhat reluctantly, "My Ring? May I touch it?"

"Uncle Bilbo, I told you, I lost it."

"Oh, I see. Or-or has it been destroyed?" he asks me suspiciously.

I cannot bear lying, especially to my uncle, I feel so guilty. "Yes…but I had to or Sauron would have taken –"

"Taken over the world as we know it. Yes, yes, I know, my boy. But the precious…she…"

I look at my uncle understandingly.

"Did-did you meet that horrid Gollum along the way?"

"Smeagol? Yes, I did."

"Did he try to kill you?"

"Eventually, yes."

"Should have killed him when I had the chance."

"No, Sam and I would never have made it to Mordor without him. His obsession with the Ring killed him in the end anyway. She had a great hold on him. Sam wanted us to kill him or leave him, not understanding the power of the Ring, but I wouldn’t believe him." I look longingly at the stump I now have for a finger. I add, "If he hadn’t been there, I would have kept the Ring, and she would have eventually made me like unto him."

"I see. Why don’t you tell me about your journey, Frodo?" Uncle Bilbo asks me. I sigh and begin to tell him my journey. Maybe I didn’t make so bad a decision coming here as I thought, but I miss the Shire. Only time will tell if I made the right choice.

~*~

Don't forget to leave a REVIEW, please.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.

~*~

Further Regret and Newfound Hope

I walk along the clean lake, trying to clear my head. I repeat over and over to myself, "This is my home now." I remember Sam’s words on our journey, "Don’t go where I can’t follow you, Mr. Frodo." I betrayed his trust in me; I abandoned him. He is so young still, with his whole life ahead of him, a whole future with Rosie. Firmly, I tell myself, "Forget the Shire, Sam, Merry, Pippin – everything!" I drop to the ground, crying. The Shire still means so much to me. Why did I ever leave it?

The feeling of grass beneath me makes me feel at home while my eyes are closed; as I open them, I am forced to face the reality of the past two years once again. I wish it had all been a horrible dream, that none of this had happened and I could wake up in the comfort of Bag End, hearing Samwise working cheerfully in the garden. I feel alone, without a home, a place in the world where I belong. I am lost, a stranger, a sojourner in a strange land.

Gandalf appears in the distance; I wish I still had the Ring. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now; I just want to be left alone as I fell. Quickly, I scurry to hide, but I fail. "Frodo! Fancy meeting you here. Still moping, I see. I told you to be sure before you came."

"I was, Gandalf, I was; the Took side, anyway; now that I’m here, the Baggins side is longing to go home. Is there any way I can go back, Gandalf?"

"Ten days here, and he wants to go back." he tells himself. "Are you really that unhappy here?"

"Yes, Gandalf."

"Even with Bilbo and me here, you’re homesick?"

"Yes. I long to see how Sam is getting along with Rosie, if Merry and Pippin are still as carefree after the journey, see Bag End. Please, Gandalf, I pray thee, please tell me if there’s any way for me to go back."

Gandalf leans on his staff thoughtfully. "How about you stay here four more weeks and then if you’re still unhappy, I’ll see to it that you get back?"

"Thank you, Gandalf" I exclaim, smiling for the first time in the ten days since I came here.

Elrond approaches sadly. He misses Arwen immensely, probably more so than I miss the Shire. He is happy she has Aragorn, but he wants her with him.

"Elrond!" Gandalf hails cheerfully.

"Hello, Gandalf. Frodo."

"Hello." I say and excuse myself as I slip away, spirits lifted. In four weeks, I, Frodo Baggins, could be going home! Should I go tell Uncle Bilbo? He would be horribly hurt, but he wants me to be happy; he’ll understand. "Uncle!"

"Yes, Frodo? What are you so riled up about?" he asks impatiently.

"The possibility of going back to the Shire!"

I see his face change from curious to upset. "I see. That’s the Baggin’s side talking. Listen to the Took, I’d say."

"Uncle Bilbo, you don’t understand! I have to go; I need to go. I’m not happy here. It’ll be four weeks. Maybe I’ll change my mind."

"No you won’t, Frodo. Once your mind is made up, and you’re this excited, you never do."

"Uncle, I thought you’d understand." I say, my face falling.

"In away, Frodo, my boy, I do." he says sadly and walks away. I throw my arms in the air and sigh. Now, I made someone else upset. Either way, someone’s going to be unhappy.

"Oh, what should I do? What should I do?" I ask myself while beginning to pace. Finally, I sit down in the large chair, which was obviously made for an elf. Nothing here is hobbit-size. Nothing here is like the Shire. I miss home horribly. I’ll miss Uncle Bilbo and Gandalf a lot if I leave. Either way something will make me unhappy. Why did the Ring ever have to come to Uncle Bilbo? Why did it have to come to me?

~*~*~

Don't forget to review.  Feel free to leave constructive criticism if needed.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.

Second Breakfast

I walk through the long, narrow hallways of the majestic castle to Elrond’s dining room for, surprisingly (well, I guess it’s just because I had breakfast early), second breakfast. He suddenly had invited me to breakfast after he had talked to Gandalf yesterday. I find him already sitting at the table surrounded by food – potatoes, eggs, things known to Hobbits, and things not known to Hobbits. Gandalf must have forewarned him about the large appetite of a Hobbit. Elrond motions for me to have a seat, and I willingly take it. "Frodo, how do you like it here?"

"In this room?" I ask, hoping that’s all he means.

"No, this place away from Middle Earth, the Shire to be more specific."

Just as I had guessed the conversation would go. "Gandalf’s up to his old tricks of getting people to stay again, I see." Elrond tries to looks surprised, causing him to look ridiculous and me to burst out laughing as his face is normally so stoic.

"What do you mean, Frodo? I haven’t said anything to Gandalf about you."

"Perhaps you might not of, but I can see Gandalf has said plenty. And, to answer your question, this place is nice enough, I guess, but it’s not the Shire."

"Obviously." Elrond’s face is stoic again. We both return to eating – first breakfast for him, second breakfast for me. Suddenly, he adds, "I miss my daughter, Arwen, and you miss your Shire. Perhaps something can be arranged."

"What do you mean?" I eye him questioningly.

"Well, I can take you back to the Shire, and I can visit my daughter for a few days. When I’m ready to go back, I can stop by the Shire and see if you want to stay or go back."

"Yes, that would be fine. I should like to visit Aragorn one day, too, and then head back to the Shire."

"It’s settled then. We leave in three weeks and six days?" I try to keep from laughing at his precision, failing miserably. "What do you find so funny?"

"Nothing. And, yes, it’s settled." I say once I’ve collected myself. I excuse myself now that I’ve finished and head over to Gandalf’s place. He is sitting in front of his home, smoking pipeweed. The scent reminds me so much of the Shire that it’s almost unbearable. "I see you’re back to your wily ways again, Gandalf."

"I don’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about." he responds innocently.

"You told Elrond of my missing the Shire, didn’t you?"

Gandalf smiles slightly, but keeps his pipe in his mouth. "Perhaps."

"You never reveal anything. Well, hardly never."

"A wizard never reveals too much, nor does he reveal too little. He reveals precisely what he means to."

I laugh as the wording reminds me of Bilbo’s "eleventy-first," my thirty-third birthday party, when I told him he was late. "That brings back memories, some pleasant, some not." I say, noticing Gandalf’s arched eyebrow.

He chuckles slightly. "I see what you mean, Frodo, I see what you mean."

"Too bad you had to end up scaring me half to death soon after with the facts about the Ring."

"Yes, but it had to be done."

"I agree. The Shire would have been doomed had you not." I realize I am talking of the Shire yet again. "O Gandalf, I’m hopeless. Everything I talk about leads back to the Shire."

"Yes, that it does. You’ll be going back soon."

"See, I knew it! You put Elrond up to it."

"Up to what?"

I laugh again. "O Gandalf, admit it."

"I won’t admit to anything until the time is right."

"Is it possible to receive letters from the Shire?" I ask as realization hits me like being stabbed by a wraith.

"Yes. It is, but all will be revealed in its rightful place."

"I’m going to tell Uncle Bilbo the news."

"Bye, Frodo."

"Bye, Gandalf." I scurry noiselessly to my house.

Please, leave a review.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.

To Gondor

Three weeks and six days have passed. I am doing some last minute packing. I am going back to Middle Earth, the Shire, Bag End, my home! That sounds so good to my ears. Sam will give me Bag End, I’m sure. He’s understanding.

Uncle Bilbo is watching from the doorway. He looks like he wants to say something, but restrains. Finally, he’s coming in to help me pack. "Frodo, are you sure?"

"Yes, Uncle. Besides, Elrond is going to make sure I want to stay." Uncle Bilbo becomes silent, fervently packing. He is sulking. He will for weeks if I know him. "If you are going to miss me that much, why don’t you come with me? You can stay in Bag End. I can keep people from bothering you. You’d have to go to Gondor for a day first, but then back home. It would be like it used to be."

"But I wouldn’t have the Ring to keep me young. I’d die, Frodo, I’d die soon after I left here. That’s why I came here to the Undying Lands to stay with the elves, to live out the short remainder of my life in peace. Back home, there’d be Lobelia bugging us all the time, trying to get Bag End like when I went on my own journey."

I continue to pack, trying to come up with a counter-argument. Finally, I find a weak, but possibly effective argument. "Too bad, I guess I’ll have to miss you and Gandalf and deal with Lobelia alone…" I purposely let my voice trail off.

Bilbo looks at the bed, apparently thinking. I wait patiently, continuing to pack. I watch as he puts his hands in his pocket, fiddling like he used to when he had the Ring. I am shocked as I see him pull out a gold ring much resembling the one I had destroyed on Mordor no more or less than five weeks and three days ago. "Bilbo?"

"Yes?" he eyes me nervously.

"What are you doing with a ring? The Ring does take over, become an obsession, but not that great."

"You saw Gollum –"

"Smeagol." I correct him.

"Yes, Smeagol. You saw how it affected him and he had it longer than both of us combined. I say all this to say that the Ring has a different hold on you depending on how long you have it. You only had it for two years. I had it for several." Bilbo sits down now that we have finished packing.

"I see. Now that that’s all cleared up, will you go with me?"

Uncle Bilbo sighs. "You remind me so much of me…stubborn when needs be. But, no, I can’t get back here, so I can’t go."

"Uncle, do you honestly think Elrond will leave this place for good? Obviously not. He’s coming back. Please, come. It wouldn’t be the same in the Shire without you!" I sit in the chair across from the bed, waiting for an answer. Bilbo looks at the ground, deep in thought. I slouch in the chair and tap my fingers absentmindedly on the armrest and stare intently at a bug on the ground.

After ten minutes, Uncle Bilbo gives me his answer. "I’ll come, but I won’t stay any longer than I have to." Happiness rushes through my body and I hug my uncle tightly. "Frodo, Frodo! No need to get that excited!"

I back away. "Sorry, I’m just very happy."

"Let’s go pack my things." he tells me. We walk to his room and quickly pack his things so that we have plenty of time to get to the dock where the ship departs from. After walking a mile up the path with our bags in tote, we stop to take a break.

"Frodo, boy, how much longer?"

"Just about ten minutes longer."

"I don’t think I shall make it." he says, lying down.

"You shan’t if you have that attitude. You can’t quit now, Uncle. You’re about a mile away from any lodging place, and the elves rarely come this way unless there’s an arrival of more elves. Seeing that there’s no arrival until Elrond returns, you’d have to stay here without food or drink until either he gets back or you have enough strength to walk back a mile."

"I suppose you’re right." Uncle Bilbo gets up. "Well, lets get to the ship so it doesn’t leave us behind and make us to have walked in vain."

I nod my head in agreement and we finish our short journey to the ship. Well, almost. First, we see Gandalf coming from behind. "Gandalf!" I exclaim. "What are you doing here?"

"You don’t think I’d let you go back to the world of men, hobbits, and wizards without me, did you?"

"I guess not. But, I thought you and Sauruman were the only two wizards left."

"Yes, we are."

"Are? Sauruman’s alive?"

"Yes, but very weak and stuck in the ruins of Isildur."

"Are you sure he’s alive?" I ask confusedly.

"Yes, and Elrond senses it, too. We fear he will escape and try once again to build up an army, this time in memory of the dark lord Sauron."

"That would be horrible."

"Yes indeed, Frodo." Gandalf starts to walk and Uncle Bilbo and I follow.

"Where are your things?"

"A wizard never needs much, just clothes on his back and food and drink."

"Oh." We continue the remainder of our journey in silence. Finally, we reach the ship. Elrond is there waiting for us. I help Bilbo aboard after handing our luggage bags one by one to Gandalf. Now that we are all aboard, the ship sets sell.

 A/N: This story is AU from this point on.  I'm also afraid the chapters don't get much longer until a couple chapters down the road.  This was my first fic, regardless, and being new to the fandom I was still kind of getting used to the idea of writing fanfics instead of original stories, so, the chapters were kind of short and restricted, much more dialogue than necessary and too little description.  I'm hoping you all enjoy it who read it, even though this is the case.

Back in Middle Earth

After a full day of sailing, we reach the dock in the rustic city of Rivendell due to Gandalf’s magic. We all walk around the vacant city. As I come to the room in which I awoke both when stabbed by the wraith and ending my quest to destroy the Ring, memories of Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli flood into my mind. The beginning of the fellowship. The first attack after Borimir had tried to get me to give him the Ring. Our journey through the cave. They were and are my true friends, sticking by me even when the Ring brought so many evil things our way – death, orcs, Uruk-hai, wraiths, even the dark lord himself.

I see some giant eagles flying our way as I near the balcony. Gandalf must have called them. Gandalf appears in the doorway. "Memories, eh?" I look at him and nod my head. "Well, where to? The Shire?"

"No, Gondor first, and then the Shire."

"Oh, you want to visit with Aragorn and Legolas and Arwen?"

"Mainly Aragorn, but yes."

"Well, to Gondor it is, then. Bilbo knows, right?"

"Yes." I say silently, feeling happier inside than I have in a long time. Two years, five weeks, and three days ago, I would have been in the Shire, celebrating yet another of Bilbo’s birthdays that I celebrated even though he was no longer in our midst. It’s our birthday…I had nearly forgotten in all the excitement. What a nice birthday present! I am brought back from my thoughts by Gandalf speaking.

"We’re all heading over to Gondor. Then, I’ll accompany you to the Shire, stay for a day. I’ll leave to go find Sauruman, head back to the Shire, meet up with Elrond, and Bilbo, Elrond, and I – and maybe you – will leave."

"Must you go so soon?"

"Yes, I must, but you don’t know how long Elrond will stay. Perhaps my task won’t last so long and I’ll be able to visit the Shire." I put my hands in my pockets and look down. We walk out to the eagles and all of us get on. The rapid sound of air passing by my ears nearly deafens me, but I don’t care. I’m just excited to be going back to the Shire soon that I could be wounded and wouldn’t care. Perhaps not even a magical reappearance of the Ring could dampen my spirits.

A/N: The next few chapters are longer than this and the prior have been.  Sorry for the shortness, but this was my first story...maybe I'll come back after the new bunnies stop attacking and I don't have tons of hw keeping me up til 1:30 a.m. (even though this was the first week).  Thank you all who have reviewed.  I really appreciate it.

Please, review.  I would like to know what others think of this story.

Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Lord of the Rings…The characters are property of JRR Tolkien’s descendents and certain events to the makers of the epic film.

Home is Where the Heart is

At Gondor

Upon our arrival in the White City, we approach Aragorn’s castle, Gandalf and Elrond ahead, Uncle Bilbo and I slightly behind. Aragorn welcomes us openly, while Legolas looks on, slightly smiling, as is the usual manner of elves. Gimli looks straight ahead gruffly. Next to them, Elrond and Arwen embrace.

Aragorn invites us all inside the huge building. I am relieved at the fact that he is leading us to the dining hall, as I haven’t had breakfast today. Somebody promised we’d have it on the ship, but we didn’t. Having no second breakfast for days was hard, but missing both breakfast and second breakfast? No Hobbit has ever heard the likes of this idea before. Poor, elderly Uncle Bilbo, especially, not getting breakfast like that.

"Have you eaten yet?" Aragorn asks us.

Matter-of-factly, I answer, "No, they promised, but didn’t follow through." I look Elrond straight in the eye, and he shrinks back slightly.

Aragorn laughs, "Well, let’s eat. You all must be hungry, especially you Hobbits if I remember Pippin’s list of your usual meals when the fellowship began correctly – it’s nearly lunch." We all enter the dining hall, except Aragorn and Arwen, who stay by the door, talking quietly. I recognize a few of the words they say, as they are speaking Elvish. Arwen turns gracefully and joins us at the table along side her husband shortly after we took our seats. Two servants walk in with food, place it in our midst, and leave. We begin to pass the food around. Despite my relatively small appetite and known reputation of going without meals for some time, of late since I have not been eating second breakfast, elevensies, afternoon tea, and supper, I have not been able to do so – I always ate a little at each meal in the Shire.

Aragorn asks, "Say, Frodo, what brings you all to this part of the world again?"

I look around the table. Aragorn, Legolas, and Arwen look anxious for me to answer. I hate having to speak to large groups of people that aren’t my closest friends or relations. "I was missing the Shire, and Elrond was missing Arwen. Gandalf –"

Gandalf cuts me off with a stern look. I look at him bewildered. He finishes the sentence I began, although not to the extent I was going to. "And I have business to attend to."

Our hosts look pleased and conversation resumes as normal, Elrond and Arwen speaking, Gandalf and Aragorn conversing quietly, and Legolas sitting down joking with Gimli. Bilbo sits, fully concentrating on his food. I sink back in my chair made for men, hoping no one will notice me. I’d like to speak with Strider and Legolas, but more one on one.

I soon get bored studying Legolas’s stoic face – I normally look at people when I am bored – so I begin to look at Arwen’s fair, smiling face, beholding her great beauty. Suddenly, my shortly forgotten wound from the wraiths starts to burn with a throbbing pain. It feels like a combination of Gollum’s biting and the original stab.

My eyes roll back in my head. I feel my body start trembling. I hear everyone panicking and calling my name, and I feel my body go limp. Without warning, everything becomes black. An image of Sauruman appears, laughing evilly.

"I’m alive, Ring bearer, I’m alive." I feel absolutely horrified, wishing he would get out of my mind. "You’re afraid, aren’t you? I can sense it. You may have destroyed the Ring, but that was futile. I can reforge it, and I shall have complete power over everything." I feel the pain of my wound wax even more severe. My body is sweating as if I were but three inches from the sun, but my entire left side feels very cold. "You’re in immense pain, I see. Why? You are wondering. The wraiths are near. They’re searching, yes, searching for you, Ring Bearer."

I lie there trying to resist asking "How?" or saying anything to Sauruman, even in my mind. My will weakens, and I think the word.

"How? I remade them. I am nearly done reforging the Ring." I feel an overwhelming sense of desire and anger. Has this been what was drawing me back to Middle Earth? Was I just using the Shire as a guise? Sauruman leaves, seeming satisfied with my doubt.

My arm grows warm. My eyes see Gandalf and Arwen hovering over me. I sit up, panting. I yell out Gandalf’s name. He looks deeply concerned and somewhat puzzled. I look around at all the confused faces. Even Elrond and Legolas’s faces are no longer stoic. Uncle Bilbo is scurrying around, frantically yelling "Help!"

"Bilbo Baggins!" Gandalf’s voice echoes throughout the hollow dining hall.

Uncle Bilbo scurries noiselessly up. "Yes, Gan–? Frodo! Frodo, my boy. You are doing better, I see!" He nearly chokes me, hugging me tightly around the neck.

"Uncle!" I manage to squeak, barely recognizing my own voice. He backs away saying that he is sorry.

Gandalf kneels down gracefully. "Frodo, are you not doing well? Perhaps it was a bad idea letting you leave the elves."

"Quite alright, Gandalf, quite alright." I reply, choosing to save the bad tidings until we are able to talk alone, quietly.

Gandalf does not seem satisfied with my answer. Perhaps I should smile? No, people say that my smile looks stressful when I am hiding something. He searches my eyes, shakes his head woefully, stands up, and helps me to my feet. I am dizzy at first. Slowly, everything comes into focus. He tells my uncle to take me to my room and commands me to stay in bed. "I shall visit you later." he assures me.

I willingly let my uncle lead me away, with Aragorn leading us both to my room. He asks no questions, but leaves us alone quietly to talk amongst ourselves. I collapse onto my bed, feeling weary and afraid of both Saruman succeeding and Gandalf’s wrath if I don not obey his command.

Bilbo sits at the foot of my bed after I have pulled the covers over myself. "Frodo, lad, what happened in there?"

I give him a reassuring smile. "Nothing. A wound from my journey was hurting."

My uncle, being somewhat gullible in his old age, believes me and stands up, starting to walk out of the room. "That severe pain though? You should have let the elves look at it."

"Uncle Bilbo, it has not ailed me for such a long time that I had nearly forgotten it." I reply in defense.

"Is that so?" he waves his hand to show it is rhetorical. "Well, I shall leave you to rest. I am sure Gandalf and Elrond will have a look. He walks out and closes the door behind him.

"Good day, Uncle." I lay my pillow down on the bed, and lie down in a reclining position, and drift off…

A/N: Midway there...Please, don't forget to review. :)  Thank you.