Author - Elwen
Pairing - None
Rating - General
Atop Bag End Frodo surveyed the West Farthing. Never had there been such a harvest.
The Shire shone like some magical dragon hoard. Yellow gold wheat fields whispered by flowing silvered barley, hedgerows glowed copper and dripped blood garnet berries, as though land could not contain all the life pulsing within.
Following last year's ruin these excesses seemed miraculous. Jam pans bubbled sweetly in kitchens and early apples were pressing. The harvesters were called and soon barns would groan with their bounty. Then would come parties.
Frodo hoarded this memory, knowing next harvest would be his last in the Shire.