Bilbo Baggins was amazed by Rivendell. It was beyond anything that he'd ever encountered in his years in Hobbiton, and, while the dwarves scoffed at Elven hospitality, he found himself more at home here than anywhere they'd been since leaving the Shire.
He'd been given leave to wander while they waited for the right moon to read the Moon Runes on Thorin's map, and it felt good to make his way though peaceful halls, or to stop and listen to the elves' music and poetry. But eventually, he found himself in a room unlike the others. In it, murals were painted of a great battle. In it, humans and elves fought against orcs and their leader, a figure clad entirely in black armor.
Bilbo walked around the room, examining the murals until he came to a statue of a beautiful woman holding a tray. Upon the tray lay the fragments of a sword. Bilbo was startled by a soft voice.
"It's name is Narsil." Bilbo looked over to where a human boy sat, crouched in a corner of the room. The boy couldn't have been more than ten, but Bilbo hadn't been aware of any human visitors in Rivendell.
"Oh, my, I didn't realize someone was in here! I beg your pardon," Bilbo said, somewhat embarrassed to be caught staring.
"It's all right. I'm good at being quiet." The boy looked away.
"Usually, so am I," Bilbo said with a laugh. "I'm Bilbo Baggins, of the Shire."
"Estel," the boy mumbled, looking down so that his long brown bangs covered his eyes.
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Estel. I didn't know there were other travelers here in Rivendell. Are you with your parents?"
Estel said nothing for a few moments. Bilbo started to become nervous, worried that he'd said something wrong. Then, "I live here now."
"Oh! That must be exciting, living amongst the elves."
Estel shrugged, glancing away. Bilbo couldn't help but feel that the boy felt like he didn't belong here. But why would Master Elrond allow anyone to live within these walls if there weren't welcome here?
Before he could formulate a question that wouldn't be rude, the boy asked, "Are you with Gandalf and the dwarves?"
"Oh... yes. We're on a quest..."
"You said you were from the Shire. I've never heard of it, though. You must have traveled really far to get here."
The boy has a good memory, Bilbo thought. "It feels like it. We've fought Orcs, Wargs, and even three monstrous trolls to get here."
"Trolls!" The boy looked up, his blue eyes round with excitement as he sat up, no longer hiding behind his hair. Bilbo laughed and told him of their many adventures.
Once he was done, Estel looked up at him thoughtfully. "You should write a story," Estel said. "You're really good at telling tales."
"Should I, now? Hmm... maybe I will some day."
The two spent several days enjoying each others company, telling each other stories from their distant homelands, until it was time for the Hobbit to finally leave with his thirteen companions. And while he never really thought about it, he knew that 'There and Back Again' was written for the dark haired boy in Rivendell who loved stories of Trolls and Orcs and Dwarves.