Echoes of the Past
Tale 1

A/N: I will be doing a tale for the four hobbits. What these tales are about is the hobbits childhood. Right now I will be writing about Frodo. Next will be Sam so be sure to look for that.

Frodo’s tears
Part 1 of 2

“I just don’t understand it, Prim,” Drogo Baggins said one fine morning in Brandy Hall. “How can that boy sleep away the day?” Primula, a beautiful lass with shimmering brown hair and eyes that sparkled like sapphires, stopped drying a breakfast dish and peered up at him. Her eyebrows rose.

“You really shouldn’t be talking, my dear,” she teased. “He got it from you.” Drogo wrinkled his nose at her. His green eyes looked into hers.

“No, I guess I shouldn’t talk.” He got up from his chair and brushed the crumbs off his lap. “I have to go now, to make some arrangements for tonight. I’ll be back soon. Make sure sleepyhead is up by the time I get back.” Drogo stepped out of the Hall and into the hot and humid air.

At that same instant, Frodo came into the kitchen, fully dressed. Most hobbits in Brandy Hall gossiped about Frodo being an elf, for he was leaner and more fragile then the other boys. He also had a paler complexion, which made his beautiful blue eyes stand out under his messy brown hair. He smiled warmly and ran over to his mother to give her a hug. She embraced him tightly.

“Hullo mamma!” he said cheerfully. “Where’s da?”

“He went to make some plans for tonight.” Frodo’s eyes searched hers for an answer.

“Tonight? What’s going on tonight?”

“Well, tonight me and your father are going on a privet boat ride.” She picked the lad up and set him on a chair then knelt down beside it. “Just for some time alone.” Frodo’s usual smile turned into a frown.

“Does that mean…you don’t love me? Is that why you’re going away?” Prim stared at her son, shock stretched across her face. She took him into her arms and rocked back and forth on her knees.

“No! I love you with all my heart! You know that!” Her face relaxed. “What on this earth made you think of such a thing?” He shrugged his shoulders and his smile returned to his face.

“I don’t know, mamma. Maybe it’s because you’ve never been away from me.” She got to her feet, straightening out her flowered dress.

“Well, I don’t want you to think such thoughts, alright?” Frodo shook his curly head up and down so wildly he fell off the chair he was perched on. Prim chuckled.

“Now run along, dear. I have work to do around the Hall. But don’t stray too far!” Frodo gave his mother a firm salute and marched out the door.

The sun was bright that morning. It shone upon the leaves and grass that grew freely around Brandy Hall. The air was sticky and hot. Frodo shuffled along the dirt road that lead into the forest, picking up smooth stones as he went. But when he was stooping down to get another, he stopped dead. He smelt something in the air. Something sweet, and delicious.

‘Mushrooms!’ a little thought in his head screamed. Frodo would give anything, even his own arm, to get at least a dozen of them. And he did risk his own arm at times too. For if he was caught, the dogs might grab a hold of it and pull it right off. But he didn’t care about any silly nightmares right now. Frodo was hungry for mushrooms. His nose was practically pulling him towards the scent now. It was leading him off the path and into the wilder side of Buckland.

A cornfield lay in front of him. How he had got there he did not know, but he did know whom the cornfield belonged to. He jerked his head from left to right in fear.

‘Let’s just hope the dogs aren’t out,’ he thought, still peering over his shoulder. The air was still, and billowing clouds loomed in the sky overhead. It had gotten dark over the last hour. Rain would come soon.

Still, Frodo was determined to get at least one mushroom, just before the downpour (that would come shortly afterwards). He made his way slowly through the cornfield. He had been through this particular cornfield many times. So many times in fact that there was a beaten path made out of his footprints leading up to Farmer Maggot’s mushroom patch.

In the distance, he heard thunder rumble softly. ‘The storm is getting closer,’ he thought as he pushed back the cornstalks gently. The corn had grown over his head already, so it was difficult to maneuver through. Then he stepped on something that made a soft crunch. He lifted his foot and saw that underneath, was a crushed mushroom.

“Looks like Maggot dropped this one,” Frodo said aloud, glancing around for more. And there was more! It was a trail of mushrooms! ‘Maggot must have picked them first, then went to inspect the corn.’ Frodo quickly picked up them and stored them in a basket made out of his un-tucked shirt. Soon he had seven. Seven!

“Amazing! I didn’t know Maggot could be so clumsy,” he exclaimed with a big grin. A dog howled not to far away from where he was standing. Frodo scanned the corn for a moving figure. Fear was slapped onto his face. Then he crouched down and crawled back the way he came, listening for footfalls of any kind with his keen ears. He never let go of the mushrooms.

After he crawled half of the way, Frodo got up and walked. The dogs would have found him by then. Now he whistled a song he heard once from his dad, not worrying what would befall him. There was a crack of thunder overhead. That was what started the rain. It came in sprinkles at first then the drops turned to a blinding sheet. Frodo hid under a willow tree (even though it was not the smartest idea, it was the only shelter out of the rain) and began examining the mushrooms he so neatly collected.

The rain finally slowed down to a sprinkle again after about five minutes. By then Frodo was down to four mushrooms. He stood and came out of his shelter.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Baggins,” a harsh voice from behind called. Frodo did not need to look to see who it was. “What have you got there, my lad?” Farmer Maggot asked, ambling over to him.

“Nuh-nothing! I don’t have a thing!” Frodo stuttered attempting to hide the vegetables. Maggot whipped him around and watched as the mushrooms drop to the ground. Frodo winced and peered up at Maggot with his blue eyes.

“Nuh-nothing, eh?” Maggot raised his arm and gave Frodo a good slap on the face. Frodo fell down instantly, holding his cheek. “Let that be a warnin’ to ya! Don’t you dare go stealin’ my mushrooms again! But to keep you away…” Maggot let out a high-pitched whistle. Grip, Fang and Wolf were instantly at his side, baring their fangs.

“See this lads?” he said to his dogs. “Next time you see this young varmint on my land again you can eat him! Now… SEE HIM OFF!” At those words the dogs immediately started to dart towards Frodo. Frodo jumped up and broke into a sprint for Brandy Hall, not looking back.

The dogs were gaining on him. They were right on his heels. He could feel them try to nibble at his feet as he dashed between trees and bushes trying to loose them. The ground was still wet and muddy. Frodo saw Brandy Hall. Making a mad dash to it, he slipped into a big puddle and was covered with dripping muck. He didn’t bother getting up for he knew the dogs would be right on him anyways. Getting ready for the worst, Frodo closed his eyes tight. Then a familiar voice bellowed from above him.

“GET! GO AWAY! GET OUT OF HERE! DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM!” It was his dad. Frodo opened his eyes in time to see the dogs snort and skulk slowly away. Drogo held his child tight in his arms.

“Frodo! Are you all right? Are you hurt at all?” Frodo just nodded and threw his arms around him and cried.

“Shhh. I’m here now. I won’t leave you.”

A/N: what a crappy ending but oh well! There will be more ppl! Next is part two! I hoped you liked this one because it’s my second fic. Disclaimer: I own nothing