Author: Sam

Story: Leather-bound: 6 of ?

Series: n/a

Setting: Crickhollow as related in The Red Book of Westmarch.

Song Note: Farewell To You by White Lion. The word bus was altered, as buses didn't exist in Middle Earth. Also the foreign words for goodbye were altered, as no one seemed to speak German, Japanese, or Italian in Middle Earth.

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.oocities.org/samwise_baggins/index.html

It was time; they were going. The early morning light filtered across the easting sky, a pale cold gray heralding the dawn of a new day. Fog clouded vision, however. Frodo Baggins shuddered in the chill morn, dragging his sleepy eyes from the horizon and heading back into his small Crickhollow burrow. He encountered Merry, Sam, and Pippin, awake before he had been.

"It's time."

Merry nodded. He'd been up since before four that morning, preparing ponies and baggage. He was as tired as the other Hobbits, but excitement also ran through his veins. It must be just a hint of Took blood he had, as most Hobbits weren't up for adventures of any kind, especially that early or that adventure.

Frodo turned towards his pack. There was something almost eerie about a foggy beginning to such an important journey. After all, one needed to see dangers ahead or following, didn't one? He shuddered again and started sliding the pack over his shoulders, deep thoughts and worries making him slow.

He was taken by surprise as his pack was lifted, eased onto his back quickly and painlessly. The fifty-year-old Hobbit whirled around to find Sam Gamgee just turning to get his own double-pack on. Relief surged through him, easing anxiety. Somehow things seemed better, safer, homier, with Sam there to look out for him. Sam had been there for half of his life; he was rather a fixture in it now.

"Thank you, Sam." Frodo smiled and helped Sam to adjust the heavy pack. With a quick glance for his youngest cousin, Pippin, the former owner of Bag End moved once again to the door, looking out at the heavy fog and gray near-light. "It's a chilly morning."

"That it is, Mister Frodo, make no mistake. But it'll clear up before the sun reaches her full mark. And fog'll hide us from that black rider, too, I'll warrant." Sam's voice was serious, slow, and steady, a comfortable, safe voice. It was the voice of a Hobbit who could fix any problem.

Frodo took heart and nodded.

"Ponies are settled and so are we. Fatty's dressed up like you, Frodo, so we'll be off. Come along. Time's wasting and we need to reach the forest." Merry smiled and threw the door open a bit wider, pleased that the fog hid their departure form curious Hobbit eyes.

The fifth companion, dressed in some of Frodo's old clothes, shuffled out and nodded, licking fingers free of marmalade and smiling complacently, if not a bit tiredly. "I'll see you to the borders, then, but won't go no further. I fear that forest more than anything." It had been determined that Fredigar Bolger, called Fatty by his friends, would stay behind to allay suspicions about Frodo's leaving. He preferred adventure least of any Hobbit and felt this was far too close for his liking, though he'd do it for his companions.

Frodo nodded and the small group started off, walking quietly beside their plodding ponies. Though he'd been realizing just how much he'd miss the Shire at leaving, missing the people itself hadn't hit Frodo until that moment. He couldn't resist a sigh, glancing over his long time friend, Fatty. He had to say goodbye, and that was harder than the actual leaving.

Not sure exactly how to go about it, Frodo softly called out to Fatty, causing his other friends to listen attentively with mixed feelings.

Falling silent, fighting tears, Frodo turned to look ahead, not seeing Pippin scrub a hand over his own eyes. This was very hard. He turned back to Fatty, who watched him with huge eyes, instinctively knowing that despite his friend's promises, this might be their last communion. He gulped back his own emotions as Frodo once again spoke.

Frodo gave Fatty a hug, and soon all five Hobbits were crying softly, hugging one another. Their brief spill of emotion only lasted a moment. Then the group pulled themselves apart and walked on, looking for Merry's entrance to the Old Forest and hoping that Frodo's goodbye would indeed not be the last.