14. Rethe 1369

Dear Diary,

I love the late evening hours and the peace they bring. With my dear little star asleep and the day's work done, I have some time for myself at last. Yet I usually end up spending even these rare minutes with my dear ones.

Tonight it was Drogo who rocked our little one to sleep. Sitting on our bed, he talked to Frodo until sleep gently closed his sparkling blue eyes, despite all his efforts to keep them open. Drogo seems unwilling to put him to bed, though, for he keeps whispering to him, running his fingers through our son's dark curls. The joyful smile on my husband's face and my son's peaceful expression are all a woman can wish for. In the fire's flickering light, they are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. Frodo looks like his father - a Baggins through and through.

Sometimes I wonder what Frodo will look like once he's grown up. Will I still see Drogo in him, or will I recognise myself? I haven't seen many of my traits in him so far, though Drogo keeps telling me the strong will and the charm of the Brandybucks is what makes him so assertive rather than the Baggins-stubbornness.

Speaking of Bagginses, sometimes I can only shake my head at their behaviour. Drogo finally managed to part with his son. Frodo is now lying in his cradle but Drogo leans over his sleeping form as if his eyes could not get enough of the sight. But I cannot blame him. Chubby cheeks, contently suckling lips, soft, dark curls on fair, smooth skin and tiny clenched fists are too much for a parent's heart.

I wonder, though, if Drogo will come to me afterwards. Will he kiss me lovingly, his hands gently caressing my tired body? Will he whisper words of passion and thus bring an ending to my writing? Peeking over my shoulder I see him watching me, an enticing smile illuminating his features. O, those Bagginses and their smiles! I just cannot resist them.