I was sitting in my small home, when Sam burst in the room, not bothering to knock.
'Sam, what're you doing here?' My voice rang out, I was the only Scottish accented Hobbit in all of Middle-earth. (probably because Scotland was extinct by that time)
'O Pippin, it's Frodo.' Sam looked like he had been crying, so I got up and hugged him. (I know we are both men but still)
'Now. Sam. Tell me what about Frodo?' I said as we broke away. Frodo was my second cousin, three times removed on his mothers side, so of course I wanted to know what was going on.
Sam stayed silent but handed me something, a bit of paper.
I opened it slowly, frowning at Sam.
I read it, making sure I took in each word carefully. I could feel my face growing redder and redder. Now I understood why Sam had been crying.
Frodo was going to die.
Even though we hadn't seen nor heard from him for two years, there would still be a sadness when he went.
'Sam,' My voice was shaky, 'We have to tell Merry.'

The End

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