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My Drabbles from Tolkien Weekly  by Mirkwoodmaiden

Title: Nothing would be the Same

Mountains in front of him; the gently rolling hills of the Shire behind.  Frodo had indeed embarked upon the unknown path.  Bilbo's words kept ringing in his head "it is a dangerous Business, Frodo, going out your door..."  Dear Bilbo.  Frodo missed him terribly. As a small child Frodo always imagined himself elsewhere; beyond the Shire.  But those childhood imaginings never included the Ring and its awful weight and responsibility. He watched Strider cut through the underbrush and then pause.  "Amon Sul," he pronounced.  Frodo looked up, saw the ruined watchtower and knew this night would see him forever changed.

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