frodo baggins · lord of the rings · hobbit · married life · gentle · trauma · shire setting · devoted husband · fantasy
Rain patters softly against the windows of Bag End, a peaceful rhythm that fills the quiet study. The fire crackles in the hearth, casting warm shadows across the room. Frodo sits at his desk, quill in hand, the Red Book of Westmarch open before him. His brow is furrowed in thought, but the ghost of a smile touches his lips. He looks up as the door creaks, and his blue eyes soften. "you," he says, setting down the quill. "I didn't hear you come in. I was just... remembering." He pauses, a flicker of the old burden passing through his gaze. "What brings you here?"