And thus it was. The Fourth Age of Middle Earth began. And the Fellowship of the Ring, though eternally bound by friendship and love was ended. 

There was still a journey to make to the Shire. The Wild was still the wild of course. But the Hobbits were still in good company. Their training and tribulation had made them stronger, and Sansa, Bran, and Hodor travelled with them. They had journeyed through the Kingdom of Rohan, then up to Isengard where they once again saw Treebeard and the Ents who were growing young and wild trees around Fangorn, just like Treebeard said. The party had no intention of going over the Misty Mountains, so they went west of it back to the Shire, past Rivendell, past Weathertop and then Bree. And finally to their destination.

It had been thirteen months to the day since Gandalf sent the Hobbits on their long journey, and they found themselves looking upon a familiar sight. They were home.

Bran rode with Sansa on their horse as they crossed through the green hills and upon the very peaceful Shire Life, where life just continued to exist, untouched by the war.

"I never thought I would see this place again." Sansa grinned.

"Wow." Bran said as he saw the Shire. "And you came here when you escaped Westeros?" He asked.

"Hodor!" Hodor yelled looking at the quiet and peace and loving it.

"That's right." Sansa answered.

"Yeah. Even with all that's happened. Sansa still gets the better destination. All I got was a bunch of rocks and sharp ridges." Bran complained.

Sansa laughed.

The Hobbits then passed one of the neighbors. Everard Proudfoot. One by one. Each having been changed for the better. 

Pippin, of the Citadel Tower Guard of Gondor and defender of the City of Men in its Darkest Hour, destroyer of the Uruk Hai in Isengard. 

Frodo, the Ring Bearer and Hero of Middle Earth, selflessly willing to sacrifice his own life so that Middle Earth could live.  

Merry, esquire of Rohan, charged in the Battle of Pelenor Fields, also destroyer of the Uruk Hai in Isengard. 

Brandon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and companion to help Frodo journey to Mordor and destroy the One Ring. 

Sansa Stark, Lady of the North, Hero of Helm's Deep, participant in the Battle of Pelenor Fields, and savior of Edoras from the poison of Saruman. 

Hodor, bodyguard and bearer of Bran with Bran now being a cripple. 

And Sam... there were no words in this world to describe the heroics of Samwise Gamgee.

And Everard Proudfoot shook their head in disapproval of them as if they had been away on some rapscallion adventure. "Oh great, more humans and a dog." He grunted as he went back to sweeping his porch.

Frodo had trotted up to Bag End, the Hobbit Hole on the hill. "Here we are... home at last." He said.

Sansa got off the horse, looking at Bag End, just as she remembered it when she first arrived.

"This is your house?" Bran asked surprised.

"It's a lot nicer on the inside." Frodo replied as he opened the door. The House being completely empty of everything. "Oh my-" 

Sansa wheeled Bran inside the house and ducked her head. And her eyes opened wide. 

"Well, the walls and the ceiling are nice." Bran commented. 

"Hodor." Hodor agreed as he ducked his head in and thrust himself in while still ducking his head. 

"Frodo... all our stuff. All of Uncle Bilbo's stuff is gone!" Sansa cried. "Everything! Thieves stole it!" 

And Frodo sighed heavily. "No. Worse. It's the Sackville Bagginses who stole our stuff." He declared. 

"Who?" Bran asked.

"Bilbo's Cousins, they've been after Uncle Bilbo's estate and furniture for years." Frodo answered. And he started to walk outside. "Come on. Let's go get our stuff back." He sighed.

That afternoon was spent recovering Bag End's furniture from the Sackville Bagginses, which was completely restored to how Frodo remembered it. Well... with a little help from Summer who was rather persuasive with the Sackville Bagginses, and by persuasive, that means... barking and snarling at the Sackville Bagginses until they coughed up all of Frodo's missing furniture out of fear.

And in the evening, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Sansa, and Bran headed off towards the Green Dragon sitting down at a table. Hodor and Summer stayed behind in case the Sackville Bagginses tried anything else funny. And Frodo was varying drinks and right in front of a Hobbit carrying a huge pumpkin.

"Hey, watch the pumpkin." The Hobbit said.

"Sorry." Frodo replied. He sat down putting the drinks on the table for the others. No one had said a word to each other as the 6 were all silent and thinking the same thing, while the rest of the Hobbits in the Shire were busy being their usual cheery selves. None of them had a clue about what the Fellowship members had been on. They weren't probably even aware that there was a war outside. Or how close they came to death and destruction. While the six, had been through so many trials and hardships, and survived a war. That Hobbit with the large Pumpkin was hailed as a hero more than the Fellowship. No one related to the real heroes, the ones that really mattered and made all the real difference.

You go back to a place you love expecting it to be the same and then realizing that it can't be the same because you've changed. 

But in the end. They still had each other, they had their Fellowship with each other. And it made then stronger and their bond stronger than ever before. Each picking up their mugs, clanging them together, smiling and then drinking.

As Sam put his drink down, he noticed that Rosie was still behind the bar. And she was saying goodnight to everyone as she gathered up dirty mugs and serving plates. 

Sansa could also see her. And then looking at Sam. "Go get that girl, Samwise Gamgee." She said.

Sam took a long drink from his mug and got up to go towards Rosie. After all that Sam had done and seen. Talking to the Girl of his Dreams didn't seem that hard at all.

"Is that Rosie?" Bran asked Sansa.

"Yep." Sansa answered.

Pippin raised his eyebrows and smiled, Merry blew out through pursed lips and looked at Sam like Sam was actually going to do it. And Frodo had laughed. 

Sooner than anyone had realized. Sam had officially tied the knot with Rosie. At their wedding ceremony. And no assassination plots. No poison in the wine, no Rains of Castamere played. And no deaths. Just Sam kissing Rosie at their wedding as the vows were said. She had ribbons in her hair, just as Sam had envisioned her in his dreams. 

Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Sansa, Bran, and Hodor looked on in delight for their friend. Summer just had his mouth sticking out.

Rosie threw her bouquet behind her and Pippin caught it. He also looked at the Female Hobbit standing next to him, raising his eyebrows and smiling at her.

"Say... Sansa? Can you give me advice with dating girls?" Pippin asked.

"I'm sorry. I think you can figure that one out on your own." Sansa answered. 

But while everyone was smiling happy. Frodo continued to have his smiling face. Which suddenly turned serious at the thought. He should've been happy and he was... but he felt... empty.

And Sansa had noticed it as well. "Frodo?" She asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah... I'm okay." Frodo answered. Even though he really wasn't.

Four Years had passed now, and Frodo was writing at his table in Bilbo's book. The Door had knocked on Bag End, which was opened by Sansa. Her fiery Red Hair braided in a Northern Braid which reminded her of Winterfell. "Sam. Hi." Sansa greeted.

"Hello, Sansa." Sam replied coming in. "Is Mr. Frodo here?" He asked.

"He's writing in his book." Sansa answered. "I think he's... well you know how he gets." 

"Yeah." Sam nodded his head. "He's been like that ever since we came home." 

"Can you blame him?" Sansa asked.

"No." Sam answered. 

"Hello, Sam." Bran had greeted while on his wheel chair, his legs were still crippled, but his black hair was cut even shorter now. And he shook Sam's hand.

"Bran." Sam greeted.

And Frodo continued to write. "How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep, that had taken hold." He wrote.

Frodo frowned as he grasped his shoulder, remembering the injury on Weathertop. 

"Frodo? Sam's here." Sansa announced.

"Hi, Sam." Frodo greeted still feeling pain on his shoulder.

"Mr. Frodo? What is it?" Sam asked as he put the book he was carrying down on the desk.

"It's been four years to the day since Weathertop Sam. It's never really healed." Frodo answered.

"I know what it's like, Frodo." Sansa sighed. "I wish I didn't, but I did. I still feel like I still see my Father's head before it was cut off. And... hearing the news of Robb and Mother." 

Frodo nodded. He was happy that Sans at least understood where he was coming from and what it was like to carry a great trauma after going through so much. 

"Or when you always get sick on the anniversary of your poisoning by Shelob." Bran added. 

"Yes. That." Frodo agreed sighing.

Sam also noticed the book in front of him that Frodo was working on. "There and Back Again, a Hobbits tale by Bilbo Baggins, and the Lord of the Rings by Frodo Baggins." He read. And then he looked at Frodo. "You finished it." He realized. 

Frodo closed the book. "Not quite. There's room for a little more." He said.