1 Walk On

Part 1: Home

Summary: Yes, another of the hurt-Frodo variety. This time Frodo gets beat up. :) If you like Bilbo/Frodo scenes, then this is for you…there is, however, NO SLASH. Not that I have anything against slash – I read some of it in fact – but this is not a slash fic.

This is an alternate universe story, meaning that some of the events don't follow the book. I try to make it as canon as possible, however. :) I've had the idea of Frodo being abused by a relative for the longest time, so I made him live with Griffo and Dasiy Boffin, who would actually be his cousins on the Baggins side (since Daisy's father is Dudo Baggins, Drogo Baggins's brother). I just wanted to beat the crap out of Frodo (so mean) and this is in the scene that I thought up. So, er, I think about torturing fictional characters. If that what you're asking, then yes; in algebra class. Not that I learn anything anyway, lol…:) Enjoy.

I was listening to U2 whilst writing, so I came up with the title "Walk On." One verse reminds me of some events that will happen later in the story. Oh well, I'll give you the verse right now:

And I know it aches

And your heart it breaks

You can onky take so much…

Walk on

This takes place in summer 1384, so Frodo would be fifteen.


Frodo Baggins sat in the carriage that belonged to his cousin, Griffo Boffin. Three stout ponies that Griffo owned were pulling it. Frodo was normally not allowed to ride in the carriage, but today was an exception. They were going to Bag End.

For more than three years – three long, painful years – he had lived with the Boffin family in the far North Farthing, near the Bindbole Wood. It was far away from his childhood home at Brandy Hall and equally as far away from his favourite uncle, Bilbo Baggins.

After his parents died four years ago, Frodo was left an orphan. He had no siblings, and his many cousins and aunts and uncles at Brandy Hall were often too busy to watch him. Saradoc Brandybuck, the Master of Buckland, suggested that he go to live with his cousin, Griffo Boffin. Frodo could not see any advantage at that time (nor any disadvantage), but now, many years later, he could see no good in it. Griffo had several children and a wife. He would be no more than a nuisance to them. He knew that Griffo detested him.

He wanted no more than to live at Bag End with Bilbo. He knew that Saradoc would not send him there since he, as a Brandybuck, had a severe distrust of people from the West Farthing, and the West Farthing Bagginses in particular. Frodo knew it no good to argue with him, so he was sent off far from his home to the Boffins like a piece of excess baggage.

He rubbed the aching bruises on his back, feeling the pain from them seep into the rest of his body like a poison. He wondered how long he would be left alone for, in the back of the covered wagon, among the foul-smelling hay, how long it would be until Griffo wanted him –

"Boy! Get up here!" roared the unkind voice of Griffo.

Frodo jumped to his feet and walked as fast as his short legs could take him to the front of the wagon. There Griffo sat, holding the reigns of the ponies.

"We're at Hobbitton, boy," he said gruffly. "Do you think you can make it to Bag End from here?" Frodo peered out into the countryside. It was no more than a few minutes' walk to Bag End.

"I can make it, sir," he replied.

"Good," he grunted. Frodo picked up his pack from the dirty floor of the wagon and jumped out.

"Wait a moment," Griffo said. Frodo had started to run toward the path that led to Bag End. "I want you back here in town in two weeks at high noon. Don't be late, boy!"

Yes, sir, thought Frodo to himself as he ran down the path. All he could think about was how happy he was to be where he belonged again.

Frodo ran for several yards until he was reasonably sure that he was out of Griffo's sight. He slowed to a walk and turned around. Griffo was gone.

Frodo breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face forward. The hot summer sun burned on his face. He realised suddenly how very hot he had been all day, especially under the tarp of the carriage. Beads of sweat started to form on his face as he walked on.

Quite a few minutes passed and Frodo neared the welcoming home of Bilbo Baggins. The gardens were in full bloom. He often liked to sit amongst the flowers with Bilbo in the summer, just to think. He smiled as memories started to flood his mind.

He reached the path that led up to large green door of Bag End. He ran eagerly toward it like a beggar would toward food. Going to Bag End was something that Frodo had learned to look forward to over the years.

He knocked on the door, waiting anxiously for a response. After a brief moment, the door opened to reveal his dear, smiling Uncle Bilbo.

"Hello, Frodo my lad! I was expecting you, you know," said Bilbo cheerfully. Frodo smiled. He was so very happy that he felt like crying.

Bilbo opened the door further and gestured toward Frodo. "Well, what are you waiting for? Come in, come in!" Frodo laughed and stepped inside the large smial. The air inside was cool and Frodo welcomed it as it flooded onto his hot, sweaty face.

Bilbo helped Frodo take his pack off of his back, and he said, "You look as if you've been running for the past hour."

"No, only for twenty minutes," said Frodo. Seeing the surprised look on Bilbo's face, he added, "And not the whole way."

"Did your cousin Griffo not take you here on his carriage?" he asked.

"He did," Frodo replied. "But he had to run some errands in Hobbitton that could not wait, so he asked if I could walk for a while. I did not mind." It was a lie, but a believable one.

"Well, all right then," Bilbo said doubtfully. For a second, Frodo thought that he would not believe him, for he seemed about to say something. But then he turned around and hurried down the hall. Frodo followed him.

They came to a room at the end of the main hall of Bag End. Bilbo opened the door and Frodo followed him in. It was where Frodo stayed whenever he visited Bilbo, and it was one of Frodo's favourite rooms at Bag End. It was smaller than most of the other rooms at Bag End, and the most simple. There were no extravagant fireplaces, nor any hidden pantries or anything else that you might expect in a smial like Bilbo Baggins's. It was simply homey. It reminded him of his old room at Brandy Hall.

Bilbo set the pack, which he was still holding, onto the bed. "I presume that you will want to unpack?" Frodo nodded, so Bilbo continued. "I think I shall go back to the kitchen to make us some supper, and perhaps you would like a bath later?" Frodo nodded, and Bilbo smiled.

"I'm very glad to see you again, dear boy," he said.

Frodo's face split into a beaming smile, and replied, "And I am glad to see you, Uncle Bilbo."

More than you'll ever know, he thought.