Title:  Curving Paths

            Rating: PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)
           

            Disclaimer: I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.

            Time Period: Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

            Note: Never fear! In the first few chapters, this may seem like an OC-focused story, but certain canon females will be introduced in due time.                 

            Additional Note: This is a revised version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.

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            Frodo eagerly glanced out the window as he swept the floor just inside the foyer of Bag End. Once he had finished, he made his way back to the kitchen to check on the rather large luncheon he was preparing.

            He sighed when he found the main dish still uncooked in the middle, yet slightly burned along the top. 'Thank goodness for Rosie, he thought. If I had to cook all my own meals all the time, I might very well starve!'

            At the moment Sam and Rosie were away for the week on a relaxing romantic getaway at a cozy inn in a nearby town. Lately Sam's duties had been more taxing than ever, as he traveled back and forth across the Shire, diligently leaving a trail of glowing saplings in his wake.

            Frodo, who was home much of the time now that Whitfoot had returned as Mayor, noticed how trying it had all been for Rosie, who always waited up as long as she could, praying for the sound of her husband's return until she fell asleep at the kitchen table.

            When he had suggested a break from it all, the Gamgees had jumped at the idea and had all the plans settled almost immediately.

            The next day they had headed out, Rosie leaving careful directions for Frodo's meals and Sam instructing him on how to water a wide variety of plants from his garden, adding with a whisper that Frodo was the only one he could truly trust with the task.

            They had been gone for only a day when a message had arrived from Pippin, telling the inhabitants of Bag End of his upcoming visit to Hobbiton. His letter seemed even more lively than usual which Frodo guessed was the fault of the young lass who would apparently accompany him. Pippin didn't explain how they had met or even what their exact relationship was. In fact, Frodo realized, he hadn't even mentioned a name. The only specific information he had provided was that he would be arriving in three days time and would stop by for luncheon.

            Frodo know Sam and Rosie would be sorry not to be there. 'In fact,' Frodo thought, smiling to himself, 'Pippin will be even sorrier to arrive to my own pathetic attempt at mushroom casserole instead of Rosie's famed cuisine.'

            Still, from what he could gather, it seemed as though Pippin and his 'friend' were planning on an extended visit, so hopefully Sam would indeed get a chance to catch up with him when he returned.

            He chuckled to himself when he imagined what the villagers would say were they to see him at that moment.  Because of his rather well-to-do status as a hobbit, as well as his former prestigious position, it would indeed seem quite shocking that he was actually working with own hands to prepare for the visit.  Any sensible hobbit would have hired a little help by now.  'Ah well,' he could practically hear the gossipers speak, 'He always was a peculiar one.'

            It was not that Frodo was averse to the idea of cook or perhaps a maid; no, he simply found the work, such as it were, energizing and if he were to be altogether honest, distracting from certain shadows that had been plaguing him of late.

            Breaking into his thoughts was the grate of a carriage on the gravel outside his door, and, after assuring himself that everything was in order, he rushed out the door to greet his old friend.

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