Sam gazed at the book-filled shelves with wondering eyes. No matter how many times he came here, he still marveled at Rivendell’s library. If he hadn’t seen them for himself, he would never have believed so many books existed in all of Middle-earth. It had been that kind of Lord Elrond to make Mr. Frodo free of the library, knowing that his master was the bookish sort.
What they’d have done without him, Sam daren’t think. Mr. Frodo had been nearly at his wits’ end, trying to escape from overly solicitous Tooks, Brandybucks and Bagginses who thought he should be eating, walking or learning Elvish songs from morning ‘til night. The library had proved the perfect refuge in every respect, and the hours spent here had worked wonders. Everyone commented on how rested and well Mr. Frodo was looking.
Sam’s gaze turned to the hobbit nestled close by his side. Frodo’s cheeks were flushed, and his blue eyes looked dreamy. His lips were curved in a contented smile.
Sam gave a happy sigh. Aye, it was a fine library, and no mistake. And you never knew- maybe one of these times, they might actually get around to reading some books.