In the Morning

Four years after the War of the Ring and Frodo still cannot stop feeling grateful. Greening lands, blossoming flowers. Clear waters, chirping birds. No more dark clouds and the sun is shining.

Closing his eyes, Frodo tips his head up and takes a deep breath. Letting the warm beams of the morning sun touch his face, he greedily soaks them up, taking in their healing heat. Sweat beads on his brow and Frodo sighs in contentment as his skin begins to tingle, his body responding to the care of the sun.

A small hand tugs at his tunic and Frodo’s eyes fly open. He looks down. A smile curls at the corner of his lips.

“Good morning, Sami-lass.” He bends and sweeps the little hobbit girl up into his arms.

“Dad-daa.”

Frodo casts another smile and then looks over his shoulder. A fine-looking rosy-cheeked hobbit is standing at the round door of Bag End.

“Breakfast is served,” she announces, her face a depiction of sheer delight as Frodo tosses Sami into the air and catches her back again, and the cherub yelps and giggles.

~~~