He didn’t mean to fondle the accursed yet tempting, simple ring, but ever since the thing came into his keeping, it had been trying to make him, to seduce him to put it on.

The cold steel gave his hand comfort as he grasped onto it, observing it, amazed at the perfect making of so small of a thing. He desired it… he did not want to let it go.

How could this be harmful in the hands of a hobbit as simple as he?

Stroking it ever so delicately, images of power came to his head and he saw another image of himself, one in which he never saw himself as:
Robed the Shire’s best clothing, he saw himself being the one in charge, finally belonging amongst all the fine folk of Middle-Earth, never having any regrets and sadness. Comfort, belonging, free time to do all that his heart wishes yet also have time to be with people who would not think him as strange…. This is what putting on the Ring would give him.

“Wake up sleepies, wake up ! ”

Frodo came out of his reverie and quickly put the beautiful object underneath his tunic.

No one should know about his secret temptation.

A/N-Double Drabble in response to Iorhael's one-liner challenge