Many days had past and the hobbits were beginning to wonder if they actually wanted to leave.

Frodo saw the She-elf again at the same time every day. She would sit on an old bench outside, writing a book of some sort. What she was writing Frodo hadn't a clue. Every time someone spoke of the Ring or Frodo touched it, she would close her book quickly and watch them.

She was most unusual, and Frodo began to feel mighty uncomfortable. Piercing blue eyes, golden curls, delicate ears. Frodo would shiver. There was something about her that was ... strange. Almost ... evil?

No, she was invited to the White Council! She could not be bad. Still a little voice in his head told Frodo to stay away. He had shared his thoughts with his friends, and was surprised that they agreed.

"She is an odd fellow, Mr. Frodo," Sam had said. "I'd ignore her, I would."

But he couldn't. He didn't like her.

* * *

13th of November, T.A. 3018

-1:28 PM-

"Frodo, my lad," Bilbo said. Frodo looked up from his desk.

Drawing. It always helped him to think. "Yes, Uncle?"

The dear hobbit smiled. "Come."

Expecting his nephew to follow, he walked out of the door humming. He was a happy hobbit indeed, and he loved giving gifts. Especially to Frodo, and that's what he planned to do.

You see, from all my talking about these fun little creatures, you might think you know them quite well. But if you were to ask Gandalf, he would just laugh and say: Hobbits really are amazing creatures, as I have said before. You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you at a pinch.

And every word of that is true. Hobbits love gift-giving indeed! In fact, they love it so much that they don't get presents on their birthdays, they give them away! And in the Shire there is at least one person's birthday a day, so the are very happy folk. You'll be surprised what these extraordinary people do in this very adventure. But why spoil it by telling you now?

Frodo quickly touched up the drawing of he and Bilbo with his skilled hand. The sun beat down on him, and all this could do was make him smile. He missed Bag End, with it's warmth and food. He missed the Party Tree, with lights twinkling like little stars in the rich blue night. He missed the Shire. He loved it dearly.

"Frodo?" Bilbo stood at the door.

"Oh," Frodo quickly packed up his things. "I'm coming."

* * *

-1:37 PM-

She paced up and down the hallway. Why couldn't she get to it? Was it hiding itself? Was she just too cowardly?

"Am man, Tavaril?*" she asked herself angrily.

"Man ceril?*"

Blonde locks falling in her face, she whipped her head around to see a tall, brown-headed Elf standing a few meters away, cautiously looking at her.

"Why would one need to know another's thoughts?" she asked, full of pride.

"Very well then," the Elf shrugged his shoulders and turned to leave.

"Elladan," she sighed.

"Yes Tavaril?"

She closed her eyes. As if in a dream, she saw a dark path surrounded by dry grass. Frodo walked alone, clutching the Ring. A screech rang out in her mind.

"Tavaril?" the elf named Elladan asked, clearly worried by her sudden pause.

Opening her eyes, out of breath, she said, "I'm sorry."

"What did you see?" he asked cautiously. "Your head was shaking, your eyelids twitching." He was onto her. She had a special gift. A gift ... of forsite. "What did you see, Tavaril?" he asked again.

Closing her eyes and taking deep breaths, she just managed to squeak out: "Darkness. Nazgûl. Sauron." What she saw was troubling. Pain. And death. "I worry for them. A dark and perilous road is ahead of them."

"They have Gandalf and Aragorn to protect them," he assured her. "The Ring and its bearer will be safe."

She smiled. "If I may ask, where is the Ringbearer?"

"His uncle said he was going to give him a present in his room," his eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Oh. I was just wondering." Tavaril's eyes met the floor. Footsteps lead away and the door slammed shut.

The girl snickered. "Thank you Elladan." It was time. Without a creak of a floorboard or a squeak of a door, she made her way to Bilbo's room.

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*In Sindarin Elvish: "Why, Tavaril?"

*In Sindarin Elvish: "What are you doing?"