Frodo was washing away at the dishes, nervous energy surrounding him mixed with excitement at Sam’s soon return. He missed his best friend more than he could ever explain, and he couldn’t deny that he’d be glad when Sam was home to help with Rosie’s constantly changing mood swings, not that he didn’t enjoy helping her; he just got confused easily when it came to her pregnancy. He also had much to discuss with Sam. Frodo and Mirabella had been getting much closer, and Frodo had been thinking of proposing. He’d been thinking of life with Mirabella quite often lately actually.
He finished off the last dish and dried it and put it away just as he heard someone walking up the trail with a cheery whistle. He ran to the front door and swung it open with a wide smile on his face as he seen Sam in the distance.
“Sam!” he called, and ran towards him happily.
Frodo looked at Sam and shook his head, still smiling. “It’s only a thought, Sam. No one truly knows.” he chuckled and...
Sam blinked, watching the ring of smoke as he realized that Frodo wouldn’t budge on his position. “Then I suppose it’s...