Letters From Rivendell

***Author's Note and Introduction***

This story came about from a variety of things, not the least of which was my reading of JRR Tolkien's "Letters". I recommend this book to everyone; it is a wonderful, insightful look into the mind of a creative genius, and a generally very interesting and hobbity fellow. :)

Anyhow, you'll notice if you have read letters, that there will indeed be a visible influence of some of the good Professor's letter writing quirks, pet names, etc. I find him very similar in character to Bilbo, which is an influence as well.

This story is clearly AU in it's premise, as it is implied that Bilbo and Frodo had no contact for the 17 years between the Party and the Quest, but I just couldn't stand the thought of them not talking for that long! Thus, this fic. This can be considered a sequel of sorts to BEB, but can be read on its own, as well.

I hope new and old readers of my work will enjoy it. I don't own any characters, places, or anything. I only love them so much it hurts.



It had been a month since Bilbo left, a month since the Long Expected Party, and a month since Frodo had been truly happy at Bag End.

The place that was once home now felt a bit lonely, different and sad, without the comforting presence of the one the young Baggins most loved. There was no longer the sound of shuffling papers to wake him up early in the morning from his uncle's study, no longer the wonderful breakfasts Bilbo prepared, and no more cheerful "Good morning, my lad!" to greet him at the start of the day.

But most of all, Frodo missed just being with Bilbo, simply having his beloved uncle there for him every day. Their long fireside talks, their walks together; going adventuring through the woods, the soft voice that would lull him to sleep when he fell ill.

He couldn't understand why Bilbo would simply abandon him, leaving him alone as master of the old smial. Why had there been no news, no letters? Frodo asked himself this every day, refusing to give up a sliver of hope his uncle had not forgotten him.

Then, one day, the first letter arrived.