skimmed over the pages he had recen

skimmed over the pages he had recently written in his diary, while sipping a cup of tea. His eyes were red and puffy from lack of sleep, and even though it had been nearly three months since the Ring had been destroyed, he still felt as though something was terribly wrong. His heart ached and the hollowness within him kept him awake at night, struggling in bed for a comfortable position and failing miserably.

So, rather than spend another night of futilely attempting to get comfortable, Frodo sat in his kitchen, looking at his diary, and sipping tea. He wasn't quite reading what he had written; he knew off by heart what the words said without looking at his scribbled, exhausted penning.

'Ah, alas, my heart is still empty. As empty as Bag End without Bilbo, I'm afraid; albeit this emptiness goes much deeper than that of missing kin. This hollow feeling in my gut, it is like starvation of the worst kind. It clenches and gnaws at me, eating away at my insides until I cannot sleep. My mind is as busy as Sam with his garden; unendingly active and lacking exhaustion. And, as with Sam, it revolves around one thing, and one thing alone.

I do not know how much longer I can withstand this pain. I feel so cold and alone. At least when I was in the company of the Fellowship, I was able to hold back the bitter bile in my belly by taking comfort from the others. The sparkling light that surrounded him…the way he danced on top of the snow; his lightness of heart gave me hope that all would be well. The way they argued and squabbled made me laugh and the coldness was gone. He had just to look at me and I would be comforted. But now, he is not here.

I wish to see him once more. To see that sparkle in his eyes, the way his lips curled up in that childish grin of his. The way the moonlight seemed to be drawn to his hair, how it glittered so, how HE glittered and shone in the dark. He was a beacon of light in my dark world, and it is he, of all the others, that I miss and yearn for most.

But above all, above all that I miss and I wish to see, to feel…to hear again is his voice. The songs, ah, the songs! They cheered me as nothing else could, his sweet voice rising and falling with the winds, carrying far and near. The sweet notes becoming full, then whispery…the way his eyes became half-lidded when he sang, and how his lips moved…ah, if only I could hear him singing again! This hollowness would surely leave me if I were to...'

And there his words had stopped, frozen in a sentence that seemed would never be completed as Frodo nibbled on the end of his pen's feather, frowning down at the book. His head spun from lack of sleep; and his vision blurred ever so slightly as he leaned back in his chair, allowing his hand to fall at his side and dropping his pen. A shiver passed through him as a cool wind slipped through the cracks in his window; he heard a door creaking somewhere in his hobbit-hole, but dismissed it as a trick of the wind. A loud yawn escaped his mouth, and as his hand came up to cover it he thought he heard the door creak again, and the soft click of it shutting.

'Trick of the wind,' he thought as he finished his yawn.

At least, he deemed it a trick until he heard a soft, familiar voice humming a tune he had only heard once before:

"To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,

The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.

West, west away, the round sun is falling.

Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,

The voices of my people that have gone before me?

I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;

For our days are ending and our years failing.

I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.

Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,

Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,

In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,

Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!"

Sitting up straight, Frodo's eyes were large in his face as he spun around in his chair, causing it to tip violently and fall to the floor with a crash. Groaning, the little hobbit blinked as a light, amused laugh tittered above him.

As his eyes focused again, Frodo's mouth opened in surprise as he came face to face with a pair of feet clothed in light, Elven shoes. Blinking in astonishment, barely daring to hope, Frodo's eyes traveled from the shoes, up long, slender legs to a slim torso, before they fell upon a familiar face that grinned at him and winked.

"Hullo, Frodo! It has been long since our eyes last met, has it not?" Legolas twittered, his hands on his hips and a wide smile tugging at his lips. Frodo was speechless; unable to move, let alone stand. Lifting an eyebrow at the astonished hobbit, Legolas laughed again, sweet melody in the quiet hobbit-hole. "Well my friend, you seem like you need a hand," he said, bending down and lifting Frodo to his feet.

His eyes softened and grew worried as he noticed the dark circles beneath the hobbit's eyes. He frowned, carrying Frodo over to the table and putting him down on top of it, looking him over carefully. Frodo winced, his ears and cheeks turning red under the Elf's scrutinizing look. He shifted his feet but could not speak, so astonished was he at the Elf's sudden appearance that he could not fathom what to say.

"You look under the weather, dear Hobbit," Legolas finally said, stepping back. "Have you not been sleeping well?" His crystal blue eyes watched Frodo carefully; he felt as though they were piercing his soul.

"No, Legolas…" The name rolled off his tongue so easily, and Frodo found it difficult not to freeze when he said it. 'I missed you so much, so much…' "I…I haven't been sleeping well at all."

The Elf's frown deepened. "Why would that be, Frodo?" he asked, his voice soft, low.

The hobbit shivered again, this time from hearing his name on the Elf's lips. 'Calm yourself, fool of a hobbit,' he scolded himself.'There is no way he could possibly feel the same…'

When no answer seemed forthcoming, Legolas leaned in closer until his face was barely an inch from Frodo's. "What ails you, Elf-friend?" he asked, his voice throaty, husky. His eyes bored into Frodo's with an intensity that almost matched Gandalf's. "You are not speaking, and that disturbs me. It is unlike you."

Taking a shuddering breath, Frodo opened his mouth to answer but no sound came; the close proximity of the Elf had robbed him of all breath. The scent of his friend was overpowering; like the forests of Mirkwood mixed with pipe smoke and cinnamon, oddly enough. He could feel Legolas's breath against his cheek, hot in the cool air of the kitchen, and his eyes burned.

Swallowing, Frodo opened and closed his mouth a few more times; still, though, nothing would come. Yet finally, he managed to stutter out, "N-nothing, Legolas…nothing at…at all. Just…not able to…to sleep…"

Legolas frowned, worried. "Are you sure of that?" he asked, pulling back a little too look at the hobbit again, eyes traveling over every inch of him.

Frodo nodded quickly, head bobbing wildly as he took a few steps back. "Quite sure!" he nearly shouted, looking down at his feet. Suddenly, he let out a mock gasp and put his hands over his mouth.

"Oh, dear me!" he cried, laughing almost crazily. "Look at this, getting my table all dirty with my big feet." Laughing in an obviously fake manner, Frodo hopped down from the tabletop to his chair, then to the floor. Looking up at Legolas, who towered above him with a quirked eyebrow, Frodo gave him an equally fake smile as he went to the cupboard and pulled out a towel, and quickly ran back to wipe down the table. All the while he laughed nervously and chattered to the Elf as he crossed his arms and watched. "Oh, I forgot! Me and my terrible manners, I'm so like an Orc! Would you like some tea? I have herbal, rosemary and much, much more! I apologize for not offering you in the first place but—"

A loud crash from outside startled him, cutting him off in mid-babble. He and Legolas both spun toward the window, where the sound had come from. Growling followed, along with the scuffling of feet and scratching against the wall.

The Elf's eyes narrowed, and he drew his knife from his belt as he turned away from Frodo, who had frozen in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Frodo," he whispered as the hobbit turned to look at him. "Stay here."

The hobbit's jaw dropped. "What? No! Legolas!"

But the Elf was gone, vanished down the hall and towards the outside. Frodo heard the door creak softly, and then click shut, but that was it. Slowly, letting the towel drop to the floor, Frodo moved toward the small window that lay on the other side of the kitchen. He could still hear the soft scratching and scuffling, and one or two small growls as he came closer; it disturbed him greatly that there was a beast outside his home.

And Legolas had gone to find it.

Frodo felt something inside him wrench and twist. "Legolas…" he whispered. 'Oh dear no! If it is a beast out there it might kill him!' he thought, terrified.

Suddenly, there was a loud shout, words cried in the Elven tongue. Frodo gasped as he heard a loud thud, followed by shrieks and howls of some other beast as Legolas engaged it in battle. The sounds of struggling came clearly through the window, thuds and yelps and howls as the Elf and…whatever the other thing was, tussled and fought for supremacy.

There was an abrupt, pained yell from Legolas, and Frodo had had enough. Dashing through Bag End on his short legs, he ran faster than any hobbit ever did; bursting out the door he launched himself through the garden, toward the window. "Legolas! Legolas!" he cried, terrified out of his little wits as he rounded the corner.

He stopped mid-run abruptly as he saw the one he was looking for, sitting on the ground with a stunned look on his face, eyes watching the front gate swing shut with a soft click. He barely looked at Frodo as the hobbit approached, dropping to his kn

ผลลัพธ์ (ไทย) 1:

เอาผ่านหน้าเขาเพิ่งได้เขียนในไดอารี่ของเขา จิบชาถ้วยหนึ่ง ตามีสีแดง และตุ่ยแห้งจากการขาดป และแม้ว่าจะได้เกือบสามเดือนเนื่องจากมีการทำลายแหวน เขายังคงรู้สึกเหมือนกับว่ามีอะไรผิดชะมัด หัวใจของเขา ached และ hollowness ภายในเขาเก็บเขาตื่นในเวลากลางคืน ดิ้นรนเตียงในตำแหน่งที่สะดวกสบาย และเป็นท่าล้มเหลวดังนั้น แทนที่ใช้จ่ายคืนอื่นของ futilely พยายามที่จะได้รับความสะดวกสบาย โฟรโดเสาร์ในครัวของเขา ไดอารี่ของเขา และจิบน้ำชา เขาค่อนข้างไม่ได้อ่านอะไรมาเขียน เขารู้ว่าปิดใจคำพูดโดยไม่มองเขาแบบ เหนื่อย penning' Ah อนิจจา หัวใจยังว่างอยู่ เป็นว่างเปล่าเป็นถุง End โดยบิลโบ ฉันกลัว แม้ว่าความว่างเปล่านี้ไปลึกมากกว่าที่กินขาด ความรู้สึกนี้กลวงในลำไส้ของฉัน มันเป็นเหมือนความอดอยากของชนิดเลว Clenches และ gnaws ที่ฉัน กินไปที่ insides ของฉันจนนอนไม่หลับ ใจของฉันไม่ได้ว่างเป็นสามกับสวนของเขา มา unendingly งาน และขาด ก ด้วยสาม มันหมุนอยู่รอบ ๆ สิ่ง และสิ่งหนึ่งที่อยู่คนเดียวฉันไม่รู้ว่าเท่าใดอีกฉันสามารถทนต่อความเจ็บปวดนี้ ฉันรู้สึกเย็นมาก และอยู่คนเดียว น้อยเมื่อผมอยู่ในบริษัทของสมาชิก ผมสามารถกลั้นน้ำดีขมในท้องของฉันด้วยความสะดวกสบายจากอื่น แสงประกายที่ล้อมรอบเขา...วิธีเขาเต้นบนหิมะ สว่างของหัวใจของเขาให้ฉันหวังว่า ทั้งหมดจะดี วิธีการพวกเขาโต้เถียง และ squabbled ทำให้ฉันหัวเราะ และทั้งที่ถูกหายไป เขาเพียงแค่ต้องมองที่ฉัน และฉันจะ comforted แต่ตอนนี้ เขาไม่ใช่ที่นี่ฉันต้องการเห็นเขาอีกครั้ง ดูที่ประกายตาของเขา วิธีริมฝีปากของเขาโค้งขึ้นในที่รอบ ๆ ไร้พูดแบบเด็กของเขา วิธีแสงจันทร์ดูเหมือนจะดึงผมของเขา วิธี glittered นั้น ว่าเขา glittered และ shone ในมืด เขาคือเบคอนของแสงในโลกมืดของฉัน และพระองค์ ของอื่น ๆ ที่ฉันพลาด และถวิลหามากที่สุดแต่เหนือสิ่งอื่นใด กว่าที่คิด และฉันต้องการดู การรู้สึก...ฟังเป็นเสียงของเขาอีกด้วย เพลง ah เพลง พวกเขาโห่ร้องฉันเป็นอะไรได้ เสียงหวานของเขาเพิ่มขึ้น และตกลงกับลม ดำเนินไกล และใกล้ หมายเหตุหวานกลายเป็นเต็ม whispery แล้ว...ทางตาเป็น lidded ครึ่งเขาสัง และ วิธีย้ายของเขาริมฝีปาก...อา หากเพียงฉันสามารถได้ยินเขาร้องเพลงอีกครั้ง Hollowness นี้จะย่อมปล่อยให้ฉันถ้าฉัน...'และมีหยุดคำพูดของเขา น้ำแข็งในประโยคที่ดูเหมือนจะไม่เสร็จเป็นโฟรโด nibbled บนปลายปากกาของเขาขน frowning ลงในหนังสือ หัวปั่นแห้งจากการขาดหลับ และวิสัยทัศน์ของเขาเบลอเคยดังนั้นเล็กน้อยเป็นเขาก็เอนหลังพระเก้าอี้ ช่วยให้มือของเขาอยู่ที่ด้านข้างของเขา และวางปากกาของเขา เป็นศิวะผ่านเขาเป็นลมเย็นเล็ดรอดผ่านรอยแตกในหน้าต่างของเขา เขาได้ยินประตู creaking อยู่ในหลุมฮอบบิทของเขา แต่ไล่ตามกองลม นายดังหนีปาก และเป็นมือของเขามาครอบนั้นเขาคิดว่า เขาได้ยินประตู creak อีกครั้ง และคลินุ่มมันปิด'เคล็ดลับลม เขาคิดเขาเสร็จนายของเขาน้อย เขาว่ามันเป็นเคล็ดลับจนกระทั่งเขาได้ยินเสียงนุ่ม คุ้นเคยฮัมเพลงที่เขาได้ยินเท่าครั้งก่อน:"ไปทะเล ไปทะเล นางนวลสีขาวกำลังร้องไห้เป่าลม และบินโฟมสีขาวตะวันตก ตะวันตกเก็บ ดวงอาทิตย์รอบตกปลายทางสีเทา สีเทาจัดส่ง ทำคุณได้ยินพวกเขาโทรศัพท์เสียงของฉันคนที่ได้ไปก่อนผมหรือไม่จะฝาก ฉันจะออกจากป่าที่แบกฉันสำหรับวันของเราจะสิ้นสุดปีของเราล้มเหลวฉันจะผ่านเรือโดดเดี่ยวน้ำกว้างยาวเป็นคลื่นชายฝั่งสุดท้ายล้ม,หวานเป็นเสียงในไอเซิลแพ้โทรใน Eressea ในที่มนุษย์ไม่สามารถค้นพบ Elvenhomeที่ใบไม้ตกไม่: ดินแดนของคนของฉันเคยตัว! "Sitting up straight, Frodo's eyes were large in his face as he spun around in his chair, causing it to tip violently and fall to the floor with a crash. Groaning, the little hobbit blinked as a light, amused laugh tittered above him.As his eyes focused again, Frodo's mouth opened in surprise as he came face to face with a pair of feet clothed in light, Elven shoes. Blinking in astonishment, barely daring to hope, Frodo's eyes traveled from the shoes, up long, slender legs to a slim torso, before they fell upon a familiar face that grinned at him and winked."Hullo, Frodo! It has been long since our eyes last met, has it not?" Legolas twittered, his hands on his hips and a wide smile tugging at his lips. Frodo was speechless; unable to move, let alone stand. Lifting an eyebrow at the astonished hobbit, Legolas laughed again, sweet melody in the quiet hobbit-hole. "Well my friend, you seem like you need a hand," he said, bending down and lifting Frodo to his feet.His eyes softened and grew worried as he noticed the dark circles beneath the hobbit's eyes. He frowned, carrying Frodo over to the table and putting him down on top of it, looking him over carefully. Frodo winced, his ears and cheeks turning red under the Elf's scrutinizing look. He shifted his feet but could not speak, so astonished was he at the Elf's sudden appearance that he could not fathom what to say."You look under the weather, dear Hobbit," Legolas finally said, stepping back. "Have you not been sleeping well?" His crystal blue eyes watched Frodo carefully; he felt as though they were piercing his soul."No, Legolas…" The name rolled off his tongue so easily, and Frodo found it difficult not to freeze when he said it. 'I missed you so much, so much…' "I…I haven't been sleeping well at all."The Elf's frown deepened. "Why would that be, Frodo?" he asked, his voice soft, low.The hobbit shivered again, this time from hearing his name on the Elf's lips. 'Calm yourself, fool of a hobbit,' he scolded himself.'There is no way he could possibly feel the same…'When no answer seemed forthcoming, Legolas leaned in closer until his face was barely an inch from Frodo's. "What ails you, Elf-friend?" he asked, his voice throaty, husky. His eyes bored into Frodo's with an intensity that almost matched Gandalf's. "You are not speaking, and that disturbs me. It is unlike you."Taking a shuddering breath, Frodo opened his mouth to answer but no sound came; the close proximity of the Elf had robbed him of all breath. The scent of his friend was overpowering; like the forests of Mirkwood mixed with pipe smoke and cinnamon, oddly enough. He could feel Legolas's breath against his cheek, hot in the cool air of the kitchen, and his eyes burned.Swallowing, Frodo opened and closed his mouth a few more times; still, though, nothing would come. Yet finally, he managed to stutter out, "N-nothing, Legolas…nothing at…at all. Just…not able to…to sleep…"Legolas frowned, worried. "Are you sure of that?" he asked, pulling back a little too look at the hobbit again, eyes traveling over every inch of him.Frodo nodded quickly, head bobbing wildly as he took a few steps back. "Quite sure!" he nearly shouted, looking down at his feet. Suddenly, he let out a mock gasp and put his hands over his mouth."Oh, dear me!" he cried, laughing almost crazily. "Look at this, getting my table all dirty with my big feet." Laughing in an obviously fake manner, Frodo hopped down from the tabletop to his chair, then to the floor. Looking up at Legolas, who towered above him with a quirked eyebrow, Frodo gave him an equally fake smile as he went to the cupboard and pulled out a towel, and quickly ran back to wipe down the table. All the while he laughed nervously and chattered to the Elf as he crossed his arms and watched. "Oh, I forgot! Me and my terrible manners, I'm so like an Orc! Would you like some tea? I have herbal, rosemary and much, much more! I apologize for not offering you in the first place but—"A loud crash from outside startled him, cutting him off in mid-babble. He and Legolas both spun toward the window, where the sound had come from. Growling followed, along with the scuffling of feet and scratching against the wall.The Elf's eyes narrowed, and he drew his knife from his belt as he turned away from Frodo, who had frozen in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Frodo," he whispered as the hobbit turned to look at him. "Stay here."
The hobbit's jaw dropped. "What? No! Legolas!"

But the Elf was gone, vanished down the hall and towards the outside. Frodo heard the door creak softly, and then click shut, but that was it. Slowly, letting the towel drop to the floor, Frodo moved toward the small window that lay on the other side of the kitchen. He could still hear the soft scratching and scuffling, and one or two small growls as he came closer; it disturbed him greatly that there was a beast outside his home.

And Legolas had gone to find it.

Frodo felt something inside him wrench and twist. "Legolas…" he whispered. 'Oh dear no! If it is a beast out there it might kill him!' he thought, terrified.

Suddenly, there was a loud shout, words cried in the Elven tongue. Frodo gasped as he heard a loud thud, followed by shrieks and howls of some other beast as Legolas engaged it in battle. The sounds of struggling came clearly through the window, thuds and yelps and howls as the Elf and…whatever the other thing was, tussled and fought for supremacy.

There was an abrupt, pained yell from Legolas, and Frodo had had enough. Dashing through Bag End on his short legs, he ran faster than any hobbit ever did; bursting out the door he launched himself through the garden, toward the window. "Legolas! Legolas!" he cried, terrified out of his little wits as he rounded the corner.

He stopped mid-run abruptly as he saw the one he was looking for, sitting on the ground with a stunned look on his face, eyes watching the front gate swing shut with a soft click. He barely looked at Frodo as the hobbit approached, dropping to his kn