28. Melodies of the Shire - Frodo x reader (Lord Of The Rings)

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Cradled in the gentle embrace of the Shire, it was in these quiet corners that I found solace, my voice carrying enchanting melodies for the children who roamed the green hills. I had a small hobbit hole at the far end of the Shire, but still, many knew who I was.

One day, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow upon Hobbiton, Frodo Baggins, a curious soul with an inquisitive spirit, stumbled upon me. He had heard the soft whispers of my tunes carried by the wind and decided to follow their trail. The trail led him to my hobbit hole, the one covered in ivy and moss, the one that seemed the most secretive.

The melody hung in the air, weaving through the evening breeze as I lost myself in the song. Unbeknownst to me, Frodo Baggins stood there, outside my fence, watching with wide-eyed wonder. The usual audience of small children had expanded to include the inquisitive hobbit who had traced the ethereal trail of music to the far end of the Shire.

Caught in the act, I faltered for a moment, my voice trailing off as I turned my gaze toward Frodo. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of surprise and admiration, and a genuine smile played on his lips. The realization that my audience had grown beyond the hidden corners of Hobbiton brought a blush to my cheeks.

But for the children, I tried to collect myself. With a sheepish grin, I continued the song, my voice resonating through the quiet evening. The children, initially perplexed by Frodo's presence, soon joined him in the enchantment of the melody. It became a serenade for not just the youngsters but for this unexpected guest who had stumbled upon my musical haven.

As the last notes lingered in the air, Frodo applauded, breaking into a warm smile. "Forgive me for intruding," Frodo spoke, his voice gentle. "I couldn't help but follow the trail of your voice. And I have to say, it is truly magical."

The children giggled and clapped in agreement, their eyes sparkling with delight. A shy smile graced my lips as I welcomed Frodo into my musical haven. The ivy-covered hobbit hole, once a sanctuary shared only with the children, now embraces a new visitor.

As Frodo settled on a moss-covered rock, basking in the afterglow of the music, the children gathered around us, their eyes wide with wonder. One of the little ones, a particularly curious hobbit with messy curls, tugged at my sleeve.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/N, what time is it?" the child asked innocently.

I glanced at the sky, gauging the position of the sun. "It's nearing the supper hour, dear," I replied, a tender smile softening my features.

The child's eyes widened in realization. "Oh no! We have to go home for dinner!" they exclaimed, a mix of disappointment and urgency in their voice.

The other children echoed the sentiment, realizing that the enchanting musical interlude was drawing to a close. Frodo chuckled, his infectious warmth reaching even the youngest members of our impromptu audience.

My gaze wandered around the children before I came up with something. "What about next week on the same day? You can all come over here to listen." I asked them, giving a soft smile.

The children's faces lit up with joy at the suggestion. The idea of a recurring gathering filled with music and tales seemed to kindle a spark of excitement in their young hearts. The one who had asked about the time eagerly nodded, and the others chimed in with enthusiastic agreement.

"Next week it is, Miss Y/N!" the curly-haired hobbit exclaimed, a wide grin stretching across their faces.

Frodo, thoroughly enjoying the infectious enthusiasm, added, "I'll be sure to mark it on my calendar. A weekly musical interlude sounds like a splendid tradition."

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