Characters/Pairing: Rosie, Frodo
Disclaimer: Tolkien's the genius, not me.
Rosie poked her head into Frodo’s room, “Dinner’s almost ready” on her lips, but paused. His pack lay open on the bed, and he stood gazing at some things laid out neatly beside it without really seeing them. A letter lay unfolded on the desk behind him. “…Mister Frodo?”
He jumped, and looked up. His eyes still held a sort of faraway look, and he rubbed absently at his shoulder, where the wicked blade had stabbed him. “Oh, hello, Rosie.”
“Are you going on another journey, Mister Frodo?”
He smiled, faintly, briefly. “Yes. But don’t tell Sam – not just yet.”