The Apple and The Ring

"Home is not a place, but the people who live there."

The fair in Hobbiton buzzed like a beehive: laughter, the cries of merchants, the aroma of freshly baked pies and honey. Under a sprawling willow by the baker's stall, hobbits crowded, and on the counter lay mountains of rosy buns and apple pies, adorned with sugar glaze. Next to the colorful fair, opposite a beautiful apple tree whose fruits were already ripe and filled with exquisite juice, stood a puzzled young hobbit lass. She diligently bounced in place, helplessly waving her hand in a futile attempt to catch an apple hanging from the edge of a flimsy branch. Desperately grunting and puffing, she didn't stop, continuing to struggle for the juicy apple. "Why now of all times!" she exclaimed, pouting her rounded lips. She continued to bounce in place, fruitlessly trying to catch the rosy fruit. "Allow me to help," a cautious, light voice of a young hobbit said from behind her. He approached, extended his hand, and plucked the fruit. "This one?" The hobbit's eyes rested on the hobbit lass. "Yes! Thank you..." she raised her dark eyes to him, and a smile blossomed on her plump lips. "I'm Melinora Farrow." "Frodo Baggins. And if you like, I can get you another one – that one over there." Frodo pointed to another rosy apple, smiling kindly at her. "If you please!" she laughed, and the sound was like the ringing of tiny bells. "I'll bake you an apple pie with them!" "It's a deal," Frodo smiled back. "Though, I suppose I should get used to the idea of getting you apples for the rest of my life." Melinora felt a slight flutter in her stomach, smiling at the hobbit who was a little taller than her. Though it was barely noticeable: 3'8" feet and inches, compared to young Frodo, who had reached 4'1". Thanks to the young hobbit, she was able to gather a mountain of juicy apples in her woven basket. As they walked along the winding path, Melinora took one of them, biting into the fruit. A bright, sweet taste touched her tongue, immersing her completely in her own dreams. "So delicious..." she thought. Looking back at Frodo, she offered him a second one. He looked into her eyes, then lowered his gaze to the offered apple. The appetite of hobbits was the most interesting thing in this world full of magical creatures. Frodo reached out, his fingers encircling the slightly soft surface of the apple. Pulling it towards him, he looked at her again, observing her without realizing it. "Thank you," the hobbit said, biting into the fruit. Melinora simply smiled at him, noticing the faint blush that had spread across his cheeks. Whether from the wind or something else... She decided not to delve into the details, continuing to walk with him along the winding path that led to the many burrows nestled in the heart of Bag End. But to be more precise, they had started their journey towards her little home.

***

"Melinora!" Frodo called out to her. "Melinora! The pie!" Melinora blinked, snapping out of the intrusive thoughts that visited her daily. Nothing unusual. She glanced back at the oven where the apple pie was baking. A delicate scent of flour, sugar, and apples wafted through the air. She quickly took out the fragrant pie, holding it on a special tray. Hastily placing the apple pie on the table, she met Baggins' gaze, smiling shyly. The tips of her elongated ears turned red. "I apologize," she whispered. "I often get lost in thought." "It's quite alright," Frodo assured her, offering a gentle smile. "Try to stay alert as best you can." Melinora remained silent, nodding softly. She turned away, approaching a beautifully crafted countertop adorned with various patterns. She reached out, picking up a small knife, her fingers gripping its handle. Returning to the table, she gently cut the pie into six equal portions. Frodo watched her delicate hands. Her skin was porcelain. Surely soft to the touch. Looking up at her, he surveyed her face beneath the black curls that framed it. He loved to explore. Even people... or rather, hobbits... "Here, take this," she said softly, offering him a slice of pie for him to taste. Frodo accepted the treat, holding a small plate with a half-softened piece of apple pie. He picked up a small silver spoon and gently savored the intoxicating flavor of the dessert. For a moment, it seemed to Baggins as if a small firework had exploded above his head from the pie's rich taste. He finished the slice almost immediately, looking at her with eyes akin to a puppy's, and said, "May I have more?" Melinora smiled in response to his request, placing two more slices of apple pie on his plate. "Enjoy your meal," she said, pausing, before adding, "Baggins." He smiled, returning to his meal with even greater hunger, as if he hadn't eaten for perhaps 10 days... or even more. Melinora sat down opposite him, pulling her wooden, slightly creaky chair closer to the table. She picked up a small, transparent teapot. She looked at him questioningly. Frodo noticed her gaze, understanding her without a word. He nodded gently. She took two nearby teacups, into which a small amount of tea could be poured. Pouring black, fragrant tea into the two cups, from which a soft steam rose, reaching upwards, she pushed one of them towards him.

***

The small tea party, accompanied by the consumption of delicious apple pie, ended on a peaceful note. Frodo was about to leave when her hand covered his. "Frodo," she said, with a hint of shyness in her large, curious eyes. "Stay a little longer..." "Melinora," Baggins interrupted her cautiously, looking into her dark eyes. "I really must go." Farrow held onto his sleeve. Her lips pursed on their own, trying to hold back. However, her tongue betrayed her, causing a quiet: "...please." to escape her lips. Hearing this, Frodo hesitated in his departure. He simply stopped, looking at her. He parted his lips, about to say something, but even before he could begin, the door burst open. The two hobbits flinched in surprise, looking back at a figure they couldn't discern due to the massive shadow falling upon it. Melinora cautiously hid behind Frodo, peeking out warily. Frodo instantly bristled, shielding the smaller hobbit with his body. The figure slowly stepped inside. Baggins blinked, squinting. "Frodo," a familiar voice said. "Why are you visiting someone so late?" The young man's eyes widened. His hearing had never deceived him, no. "Gandalf!" Frodo rushed forward, embracing the tall figure of the wizard. Gandalf smiled faintly, patting the young Baggins on the back. "Greetings, greetings," the wizard said in his wise voice, then looked up at the young hobbit lass. "Oh, do you have a lady here, Frodo?" Melinora felt her cheeks fill with a blush, spreading down her slender neck. Baggins glanced at Farrow, smiling at her encouragingly, before looking back at the wizard and replying: "This is Melinora Farrow. My new acquaintance." The old wizard nodded understandingly, scrutinizing her petite build. The young hobbitess wore a linen dress, light green with yellow trim on the collar and sleeves. It was a loose fit that didn't restrict movement at all. His gaze dropped lower. An apron. It was checkered, red and white. Even lower... She wore soft, flat leather shoes, comfortable enough for a hobbit. Gandalf raised his eyes back up, seeing the hobbitess's shyness. He reached out, brushing a little flour from her apron, smiling at her. "I am Gandalf the Grey," he introduced himself kindly, bowing slightly to the small Farrow. "It's a pleasure to meet you." "Pleasure..." she whispered, nodding vigorously, looking at the wizard with wide eyes full of innocence. Frodo watched them both, gently pushing his chestnut curls from his forehead. He focused on Gandalf again, asking him: "Why have you come?" The question hung awkwardly in the air. The wizard's face transformed. His features twisted slightly in sternness, noticeable wrinkles appearing. Gandalf peered into Farrow's face, and then Baggins's. "It's time for you to return to Bilbo," he said. "A special gift awaits you." The wizard's enigmatic nature simultaneously sparked interest and skepticism in the two hobbits, who were watching him intently. Gandalf remained silent, gripping his staff. Turning, he began to walk away, expecting them to follow. The wizard's cloak billowed in the faint night wind, adding even more tension to the scene. Frodo and Melinora exchanged glances. Their eyes held notes of wariness, yet their feet carried them after the wizard, sensing an interesting event.

***

The Ring. Frodo stood, gazing at the ring in his palm. It seemed to him that the ring glowed. Or perhaps it didn't. Young Farrow peered over his shoulder to see what he was holding. Her delicate brows furrowed, seeing the golden ring in his hands. "What is that?" she inquired. "It is the One Ring," the wizard spoke instead of Frodo, causing the hobbits to look up at him as he paused. "Frodo. You had better hide the ring. As securely as possible." Gandalf looked back at the two hobbits, frozen in surprise. For now, he focused solely on Frodo. "You must leave the Shire immediately and go to Rivendell." Frodo stood in bewilderment, clutching the Ring in his palm. His throat suddenly felt dry. No matter how he tried to moisten his gullet with saliva, it wouldn't work. He glanced back at the pale Melinor. She looked up at him, clearly nervous. Clinging to his sleeve with her naive habit, she began to lament: "I won't leave you for anything in the world!" Baggins was even more shocked by the determination of his young friend. By this time, Gandalf had turned suspiciously towards the window, no longer hearing the scissors beneath it. He abruptly grabbed another hobbit by the ear, dragging him inside. The gardener began to struggle, stunned by this. The two hobbits stared at the third. "Samwise Gamgee?" the old wizard grinned, holding the youth by the ear. "Were you eavesdropping?" "N-No!" Sam protested desperately, brandishing the scissors as his "alibi." "I wasn't eavesdropping! I was just trimming the grass!" Samwise glances timidly at Baggins and Farrow. He immediately understood there was no point in arguing. "You're..." he stammers. "You're going to take me, aren't you?" Gandalf smiled, looking at the hobbits. The answer in his wise eyes was obvious. Yes.

***

"Melinore was packing her belongings for departure, as were the other young hobbits, ready for new adventures they would learn about later..."