Arwen paced back and forth anxiously in her room. Her brothers had returned from Bree over an hour ago; she had seen them sprint into her father's house, but they hadn't come to see her. All she knew was that since then a tense air had settled over Rivendell, as though the elves within were expecting something. She had watched from the balcony in her room as guards had been put at the gates, something that rarely occurred.

She ground her teeth as she continued her pacing. Before she would have simply found the nearest elf and demanded to be told what was going on, but she was currently not allowed to leave her room. She looked down at her now bulging stomach as she paced; though she loved the feeling of her baby kicking inside of her, she was eager for the birth. She didn't know how much longer she could hide.

Even though she'd been distraught by Aragorn's banishment so many months ago, she had remembered her grandmother's warning about the danger her child would be in, and so she and her brothers had agreed that she would stay in her rooms, and they would bring her meals to her, along with anything else she required. Though at first she could slip to the gardens for brief strolls without drawing attention to herself, her stomach was now far too big to permit such luxuries.

She rubbed her belly soothingly, murmuring softly to the baby. She didn't know if her baby could hear her, but she liked to think that he or she could. And so she spent the long hours in her room telling her baby stories or singing softly. She told her baby of Aragorn, and of the love the couple held for each other. Above all, she promised her baby that she would never let anything hurt it.

She whirled as the door to her room opened, and the twins slipped in, looking weary but unharmed. Arwen nonetheless threw herself at them, and then guided them to sit on her bed.

"What's happened?" she asked. "What has everyone so worried?"

The brothers took their time answering, arranging themselves into comfortable positions on the bed. "We were chased back to Rivendell by orcs," Elladan supplied.

Arwen gasped. She pulled them into fierce hugs, and for once they didn't squirm away. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"We're fine." Elrohir gently pried Arwen off him and smiled reassuringly. "We used the hidden tunnels to get into the city. They didn't follow."

Arwen nodded. "What is Father doing about it?" She asked.

"He's strengthened security around Rivendell, and he's organizing a hunting party as we speak," Elladan told her. "He refused to let us come." Now both he and Elrohir were pouting, and Arwen rolled her eyes.

"Good," she stated. "The two of you would get yourselves killed trying some hair brained scheme."

"We would not," they objected in unison. Arwen chuckled and stood. There was a cool breeze coming in from the balcony, and she gladly positioned herself before it. With the extra body heat of the baby she carried, it was simply too hot nowadays.

"What news is there of Aragorn?" she asked.

"He is well," Elladan promised her. "He's worried about you and the baby."

Arwen smiled. She'd always found her husband's concern for her endearing. "How was his visit to the Dunedain?" she asked.

Elrohir shrugged. "He didn't speak much of them," he told her. "He insisted we spend our time together telling him about you."

"And he's staying in Bree?" she asked.

"Aye; he seems anxious for the baby's arrival." Elladan seemed amused, and Arwen chuckled. She could imagine her husband's worry as he pressed the twins for every detail concerning the growth of his unborn child. It was now nearing the time when the baby would be due, and true to his word Aragorn had returned from the North. "He made us promise to inform him as soon as the baby is born," Elladan added.

Arwen nodded. "Hopefully soon," she said. She sighed and folded into a chair on the balcony, looking out over Rivendell. Her brothers joined her, and for a minute or so they sat in comfortable silence.

"Have you spoken to Father?" Elrohir asked finally. Arwen sighed; she had been waiting for this question. It came every day, and though she had at first been angered by it, now she was simply resigned.

"No," she answered. Her father had come to her several times since he had banished Aragorn, but she had for the most part refused to speak with him. She had allowed him to stay only long enough to enlist- albeit reluctantly- his help in hiding her pregnancy from Rivendell. Once he had agreed to the plan she'd formed with the twins she had bid him leave, and they had barely spoken since.

"I do not see us reconciling until he lifts his banishment," she told her brothers. They nodded; they had expected this answer. Again they faded into silence, each caught up in their own thoughts.

Their musings were interrupted as they spotted a group of dwarves coming over the bridge. They were quickly hidden by the houses of Rivendell, and it was only many minutes later as they neared her father's house that she finally managed a proper look at them.

They were for the most part dwarves, though the smaller man at the group's head bore the hairy feet and slightly pointed ears that were characteristic of the Halflings to the west. Beside him walked a small child that bore, to Arwen's surprise, traces of both dwarves and hobbits.

It was however the four bodies the group bore that caught her attention. Four dwarves, each brutally killed, were being carried by their brethren. She glanced over to Elrohir and Elladan and saw that their faces had paled in horror.

"The orcs," Elrohir breathed. A moment later they were gone, having sprung up and bounded out of the room before Arwen could respond.


Bilbo Baggins stared around him as they passed through Rivendell. Despite the circumstances of their visit- which were ironically similar to that of their last visit- he couldn't help but gaze with awe at the elven city. Though he had been here before, he still found the place awe inspiring to look at, and going by the begrudging murmurs of the dwarves behind him, they agreed.

He glanced down at Mithril. By now her face had set in a dark bruise, and though she still rubbed at it occasionally she seemed to have all but forgotten it as she too stared around her. Her mouth had fallen open, her hazel eyes widening in awe at what she saw. Knowing that she would soon want to run off to explore, Bilbo lifted her into his arms.

He led the way to Lord Elrond's house, and was unsurprised to find the lord already waiting at the entrance, flanked by his two sons. Though Elrond's face was as smooth and sculptured as always, Bilbo was surprised at the white faced horror evident on the twins' faces. He pushed it from his mind, approaching Elrond with Mithril on his hip.

"Lord Elrond," he greeted. "It has been a long time."

Elrond's eyes twinkled almost imperceptibly. "Bilbo Baggins," he returned. "Eight years it has been. You bring different company with you this time."

Bilbo nodded. "I do," he affirmed. "Though three of my friends from my previous visit are here with me now." He gestured behind him. "Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur," he introduced.

Elrond nodded as his eyes skimmed over the dwarves. "I remember," he said. He nodded respectfully to the dwarves. "I welcome you to my halls," he greeted the dwarves. Then, finding the four bodies in their midst, his brown eyes widened ever so slightly, and he turned back to Bilbo. "What befell you?" he asked.

Bilbo sighed. "We were attacked by orcs outside the city," he told Elrond. "We were hoping to seek shelter and travel supplies here, as our kind has once done."

Bilbo's inclusion of himself into the dwarf's ranks didn't go unnoticed by Elrond. However he simply nodded, keeping his face expressionless. "Of course," he replied. "I would meet with you later to discuss your companions' final rights. I would not ask you to bear them all the way back to the mountain."

Bilbo nodded, grateful. He wasn't even surprised that Elrond had guessed their destination; it was fairly obvious. "Thank you," he said.

Elrond nodded. "Now," he said. "Would you introduce me to your companions?"

Bilbo nodded. "You know already Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur," he stated. "This is Naggoul, Vanmour, Thazzouth, Jozzouk, Grounem, Glaseg, Khendock, Elsgrin, Fokhaeg, Daresaec, Fonmumi, Elgruth, and Strolgrout. Our fallen were known as Yussoick, Reikrerlig, Sarraeg, and Uthouth." Here he paused for a moment before continuing. "And this is Mithril. My daughter," he added.

Elrond's eyes zeroed in on the girl clutched in Bilbo's arms, and Bilbo felt his heart rate increase. This was Mithril's first reaction with one with whom she did not share some heritage. How would Elrond react to her? Would he be able to tell that she was of mixed blood?

Elrond simply nodded and bowed. "Welcome, company of Bilbo Baggins," he said. "I will guide you to a place where you may rest your dead, and then you may yourselves wash and rest." He turned again to Bilbo. "If you would, Mr. Baggins, come to my study when you have recovered."

Bilbo nodded. "Of course," he responded. He then followed as Elrond himself led the group to a place where they could leave their dead. As they entered the house Bilbo expected Elrond to disappear, but to his surprise it was the lord himself who brought them to the baths and showed them to their rooms. Once they knew where everything was the elf made his exit.

Bilbo cast his gaze over the bathing pool that Elrond had left them in. It was large and opened to the outside air, though fenced in by a series of trees, their interlocking branches preventing unwanted eyes from seeing in. The pool seemed to be connected to the river, for water flowed in a gentle current through it. At the edge of the water sat soap and towels.

The company quickly washed themselves, and as they did Bilbo drew Mithril to an uninhabited section of the pool and washed the grime off her. Once she was dressed he himself bathed, pulling on a fresh change of clothes.

He sat at the edge of the pool to let his hair dry, and Mithril curled up in his lap, sleepy now. Bilbo took this chance to inspect her face, sighing in dismay at the deep bruise that covered the right half of her face. Her bottom lip was split, and though it was no longer bleeding, Bilbo suspected it rather hurt. Mithril didn't seem to mind at the moment, clutching one of her toys in her arms as sleep overtook her.

Each dwarf had a room to himself, though Bilbo doubted they would dare to space themselves so under the roof of an elf. Unlike him, they carried the distrust of the pointy eared folk that Thorin had possessed. Bilbo wondered if his king still disliked elves, or if he had gotten over his aversion in the past eight years. He pushed such thoughts from his mind. The dwarves would -hopefully- behave themselves. Bilbo needed to find his way to Lord Elrond's study, and figure out what to do with Mithril while he was there. While he was sure the dwarves would look after her, he didn't want to impede upon their rest, and he was still loathe to be separated from his daughter so soon after the battle with the orcs. Bilbo decided that his only option was to take her with him.

He quickly found an elf in the halls of the house, and the elf gladly showed Bilbo to where Elrond's study was. Though Bilbo caught the elf's eyes flickering curiously to Mithril, he luckily didn't comment.

At the study Bilbo knocked uncertainly.

"Come in," Elrond called. Bilbo pushed open the door, holding a sleeping Mithril as he entered.

"Welcome, Master Baggins," Elrond said. He stood from his desk, and now a bit of the formality that had pervaded the elf earlier seemed to leach from him. Elrond remembered well the Halfling that Gandalf had spoken so fondly of, and it was always nice to host one of Gandalf's friends. Just like the wizard, they often brought all sorts of trouble. And though not all of it was good, it was nevertheless a change from the paper-cluttered lifestyle that Elrond felt himself sinking into.

"Thank you Lord Elrond," Bilbo answered. At Elrond's gesture he sat on the plush couch in the room, pulling Mithril up to sit on his lap. "How are your sons after their encounter with the orcs?"

Elrond's eyes widened, and Bilbo allowed himself a short laugh. "I saw their faces when we arrived," he explained. "It wasn't too difficult to piece together."

Elrond nodded. "I must say, Mr. Baggins, I think that I have underestimated you in the past."

Bilbo shrugged. "Seeing as the first time we met I was more concerned with handkerchiefs than anything, I would have underestimated me too." He smiled wanly at this, and Elrond found himself returning the smile.

Elrond sat at the corner of the desk. "While we must discuss funeral arrangements for your dwarves," he began, "I find that I would rather start with more pleasant matters; if you would do me the honor of introducing us properly." Elrond stooped and lifted Mithril, who, unbeknown to Bilbo, had awoken, slipped from the couch, and busied herself with playing with Elrond's robes. Bilbo felt embarrassment color his cheeks, but Elrond didn't seem to mind. Indeed, a small smile played at the elf's mouth as he inspected Mithril.

"This is Mithril," Bilbo answered. He quickly recounted the tale of his second cousin's pregnancy, and Elrond listened intently, a sad glow shining in his eyes at the mention of Josie's death. Bilbo went on to detail the arrival of his friends in the Shire, knowing that the purpose of his travels would be Elrond's next question. By the time he had finished speaking Elrond's face had become expressionless.

"And what happened to your daughter's face?" he asked. "I presume her injury is a result of the orc attack?"

Bilbo told Elrond now about the battle in the plains outside Rivendell. Though the elven lord kept his face expressionless for the majority of the recital, a small smile of amusement split his lips when he mentioned how Mithril had bitten the orc about to kill her father. As Bilbo finished with his company's arrival in Rivendell, Elrond looked at the child he held with a new appraisal.

"She is feisty," he commented. Bilbo nodded with a small frown; already there was a small voice in the back of his mind compiling a list of all the trouble his feisty daughter would surely get into in her life.

Elrond met Bilbo's worried eyes. "I will see to it that a healing salve is mixed for her face," he assured Bilbo. "It shall help her to heal faster, and reduce the pain of her injury."

Bilbo nodded gratefully. "Thank you," he whispered. Elrond nodded, handing a once more sleeping Mithril to her father.

"Now," said Elrond, and suddenly the elf's demeanor was more serious as he looked at the hobbit through hooded eyes. "We must discuss funeral arrangements."

Bilbo nodded sadly, but allowed the elf to continue to speak. "There is a set of caves behind Rivendell," Elrond told him, "which lie so secluded that they are seldom disturbed. I believe it is the custom of the dwarves to be put to rest in rock, yes?"

Bilbo nodded after taking a moment to think. He did remember Thorin mentioning something of the sort once, during their initial quest to Erebor. "I believe that is the custom," he agreed.

Elrond nodded. "Then I would say that these caves are the best place for your fallen," he told Bilbo. "What say you?"

Bilbo hesitated. While he thought that the caves would suffice nicely, and he was eternally grateful for Elrond's generosity in offering them, he knew it wasn't really his place to agree. "I shall have to discuss the matter with the others," he said at last. "But I think they shall do nicely. Thank you, Lord Elrond."

Elrond nodded. "Of course," he said. He studied Bilbo curiously. "The dwarves you travel with would argue that I would ask something in return, yet you do not seem concerned with the possibility," he observed.

Bilbo blinked in surprise. While the idea had crossed his mind briefly, he hadn't really considered it. He was now wondering if he was wrong. "Would you ask something of me?" he demanded softly.

Elrond returned to his seat behind his desk. "Long ago there was an alliance between the races of Middle Earth," Elrond said. "While I know that this," he tapped his desk to indicate the arrangements the two had just made, "cannot restore such alliances, I would have it remembered." Now he leaned forward. "Dark times are coming, Mr. Baggins," he said. "I would have all of Middle Earth unite against what approaches."

Bilbo gulped. He had no idea what dark times Elrond was referring to, but they didn't sound good. He automatically clutched Mithril closer to him. "What is coming?" he asked.

This question seemed to pain Elrond, for he leaned back in his chair, a troubled expression taking over his face. "I do not know," he admitted softly. "But I would not be caught unprepared."

Bilbo nodded. "I can't speak for either the dwarves of Erebor or the hobbits of the Shire," he reminded Elrond, "but I assure you that I will put in a good word at the mountain." He frowned. "I fear the Shire may actually be more difficult to persuade. The word alliance rings with adventure, and that is an idea hobbits reject vehemently."

Elrond nodded. "So be it," he murmured. He paused, and seemed to be thinking of something else to say when the door burst open. In ran Elrohir, white faced and panting. He paused at the sight of the hobbit, but Elrond stood.

"What is it?" he asked. Bilbo glanced between the father and son and knew that something was wrong immediately, and that Elrond had a suspicion of what it was.

Elrohir's eyes flickered to Bilbo, and then returned to his father. He said something in Sindarin, and Bilbo barely managed to catch the name Arwen in the elf's words. Elrond nodded and followed Elrohir out the door, turning at the entrance back to Bilbo.

"Forgive me," he said. "There is a family matter I must see to. I shall see you at dinner tonight?"

Bilbo nodded, choosing not to comment on the panicked expression in the lord's normally calm eyes. "Of course," he assured him. "Good luck."

Elrond nodded and sped off down the corridor, and Bilbo watched him go curiously. He looked down at Mithril, who by now had planted two fingers in her mouth, her other hand clutching at her father's shirt. "Well that was odd," he murmured softly, removing his daughter's fingers from her mouth. He shrugged and started back to the room that had been set for them. Whatever was happening, it wasn't his business.

Or was it? Bilbo paused just outside his room, cocking his head to the side to think. He had no idea what was happening; for all he knew it could very well effect his company's travels. He sighed. There was only one way to find out.

"Bifur!" The old dwarf glanced up as Bilbo hurried towards him, Mithril cuddled in his arms. He was sitting in the room the elves had supplied for him, sharpening his axe. Bofur and Bombur had fallen asleep in the room, and Bifur was sure the other dwarves would soon be arriving. They were loath to be separated in the large house of the elves.

He grunted in greeting, knowing that Bilbo wouldn't understand Khuzdul, and rose to meet him. To his surprise Bilbo all but shoved Mithril at him, and though he happily took the small child in his arms, he looked at Bilbo with confusion.

Bilbo sighed. He knew if he stated that he thought something was amiss in Elrond's house the dwarves would insist they depart immediately. He didn't think that was either necessary or an option, if he was being honest. They had no supplies, and had yet to bury their dead. So how was he to provide an explanation to Bifur?

"I must be somewhere," he said. He shook his head as Bifur's eyebrows shot up. "I'll tell you later; I promise," he called. He backed out the door before Bifur could stop him, and all but ran down the hallway.

Once he was away he slipped the ring on his finger. He didn't know where he needed to be, but didn't want to draw suspicion to himself by being seen wandering around the halls. All he knew that whatever was happening, it likely concerned Elrond's daughter Arwen. Bilbo had heard of the elf during his last stay in Rivendell, though she had been in Lothlórien at the time. He wondered if she was as breathtaking as he had heard.

Soon he saw Elladan and another elf hurrying past him and up a set of winding stairs, a medical bag clutched in the second elf's hands. Bilbo decided to follow them, and so took off silently, running to catch up with the elves' long strides. Soon the burglar found himself outside a door that he could only guess led to a bedroom, and strained to catch a glimpse of the contents of the room as the pair slipped in.

His eyes instantly focused on the elf on the elegant bed pushed against the wall, a woman in a deep violet gown that could only be Arwen. Even in the obvious distress she was in, Bilbo could tell that she was beautiful. He ignored this observation however, noting the way Elrohir sat with her head cradled in his lap, stroking her hair soothingly. Elrond knelt by the side of the bed, clutching his daughter's hand in his own as he murmured softly to her. What caught Bilbo's attention however, was the large bulge in Arwen's stomach. With a shock, Bilbo realized what was happening.

Arwen was in labor.

Bilbo cursed silently. His experience with pregnancies had not been good, and he fancied that perhaps he might negatively jinx the birth. He shook his head. Surely the elf wouldn't have the difficulties that Josie had. Josie's pregnancy had been under special circumstances.

Still, Bilbo was worried. He settled against the wall, cringing as he heard Arwen cry out in pain. He would wait here, just to be safe.

His mind soon began to wander. Who was the father? Surely he should be here with Arwen at this time. Bilbo sat up against the wall, expecting another elf to come hurrying down the corridor at any moment. After some time, however, it became clear to Bilbo that no one was coming.

And so he waited. He cringed at each cry that came from Arwen's room, his heart aching with the memories that were surfacing. He could only hope that things would turn out differently this time around.

And then he heard it. From within the room faint cries of life, the first wails of an infant could be heard. Bilbo stood eagerly, even though he knew he would likely not get a glimpse of the baby. He had long since pulled the ring off his finger, stuffing it safely back in his pocket, and so was unprepared when the door opened.


Arwen panted as the last of her pain faded, allowing herself to sag back in Elrohir's lap. Her work was at last done, the baby delivered. Elrond had ceased to whisper soothing things to her; now he had begun anxiously inspecting his daughter's face. Arwen squeezed his hand once to tell him she was alright, then turned her attention to the small bundle that the doctor had handed Elladan so he could return to Arwen.

"How do you feel?" asked the elf.

"Fine," Arwen assured. Her eyes were fixed on the baby- her baby, barely visible to her amid the white cloth that encased the small form. "Let me see my baby."

The doctor chuckled and moved aside, and Elladan stepped forward and deposited Arwen's daughter into her arms. Arwen gasped as she looked down at the child.

"She's beautiful," she whispered. Around her, her family could only nod in agreement. Soft black hair was beginning as fuzz on the baby's head, and storm cloud grey eyes peered curiously up at her mother. Arwen couldn't help the small smile that came to her face as her baby's fist waved in the air, and she reached down to gently catch the chubby limb in her fingers.

Arwen gasped as the vision slammed into her mind, easily taking control of the elf's senses. Elrond caught the baby before she could tumble to the floor, and the elves in the room watched Arwen's eyes widen with what she saw.

She saw the throne room of Erebor, restored once more to its former glory. The stone floors gleamed, the intricate carvings on the pillars that held up the roof catching even the most unappreciative eye. Arwen's gaze fell to the dais at the head of the room, upon which sat the throne of the king. Gleaming in its place in the backing of the chair was the Arkenstone.

King Thorin sat there, though he was turned to the throne that had been set beside his. The king and the hobbit that sat together laughed quietly at some joke, their eyes twinkling with love. Arwen smiled at the sight.

"Uncles!"

Arwen's attention was caught by the child that bounded into the throne room, a wide smile on her face. The hobbit- Bilbo, she knew somehow- rose to meet her, a wide grin spreading across his face. Arwen couldn't help but chuckle as she saw that the child was already taller than her uncle.

But why? Arwen peered closer at her, and was shocked to see pointed ears poking out of the long black hair that tumbled over her shoulders. As the child skidded to a stop and deposited a hug to each of her uncles, Arwen caught the twinkle of her grey eyes. She knew immediately to whom those eyes belonged.

"Miny!"

Arwen turned once more to see another child, this one half dwarf and half hobbit, bound into the room behind her daughter. Though she wore a scowl on her face, Arwen could see the playfulness behind the flashing hazel eyes as she pushed wild brown curls out of her face.

"Not fair," called the second girl. "You promised to give me a head start."

Arwen's daughter laughed. "It's not my fault you're slow, Mithy," she taunted. The two girls shared playful scowls, and then glanced towards Thorin as he sighed in mock frustration, a loving glint in his eyes as he surveyed the children.

"What trouble have you two gotten into now?" he asked. When both girls refused to meet his eyes the king stood and came to stand before him, hands planted on his hips in a show of paternal demand. "Mithril," he ordered. "Minriel. What are you up to?"

The girls' responses were lost to Arwen as the vision faded, and with a gasp she returned to the present. "Minriel," she called, reaching for her daughter. Where had she gone?

"Who's Minriel?"

Arwen turned to see Elladan watching her worriedly, but she ignored him. A moment later she spotted Minriel in her grandfather's arms, cooing as she looked about her curiously. "Minriel," she whispered.

As realization dawned over the faces of the others, Arwen took her daughter back into her arms.

"What did you see?" Elrond asked. He brushed at Arwen's hair, moving it out of her face, and Arwen found her irritation at her father returning. She shoved it down though; now was not the time for an argument.

"Find me Bilbo Baggins," she ordered. "Now."

Elladan nodded and went for the door when Arwen offered no explanation as to her demand, swinging it open. He froze in shock, then stepped aside and drew none other than Bilbo himself into the room. Arwen smiled softly at the nervous expression on the hobbit's face at having been caught spying.

Bilbo gulped. He was terrified of what Elrond would do as the elf's eyes fell upon him, but the lord's face was unreadable. Bilbo glanced to Elrohir and Elladan; both wore identical amused yet worried expressions on their faces. It was however Arwen who caught Bilbo's attention as the healer slipped out of the room behind him. The elf wore a small, sad smile on her face as she inspected the hobbit.

"I'm sorry," Bilbo began. "I-I-"

"Do not bother with excuses," Arwen told him. Her voice was soft and melodious, but Bilbo could sense the same playfulness in it that had permeated Josie. "There is little point."

Bilbo nodded as his fingers wrought the edge of his shirt nervously. "I'm sorry," he offered.

Arwen laughed softly. "Do not be," she said. "If my host were to run off suddenly, I would want to know what was happening, especially if I travelled with my daughter."

Bilbo blinked; how did Arwen know all this? He quickly shook his surprise from his mind. He could see the balcony outside her room, and suspected it showed the elf all who came and went from her father's house. Besides that, Bilbo knew her brothers had likely filled her in on the reason for his company's visit. And besides, Bilbo thought to himself, elves seem to know everything.

He nodded slowly, not sure what to expect from here. Just because Arwen didn't seem to mind his spying didn't mean her family would be of the same opinion. He was therefore shocked at Arwen's next words.

"Bilbo," she murmured softly. "I have a request to make of you."

Bilbo blinked rapidly. Had he heard Arwen right? "I-I'm sorry?" he asked.

Arwen smiled slightly, seeming amused by the hobbit's confusion. Yet underneath her smile Bilbo could see a great deal of pain and sorrow.

"A favor," she repeated. "I would ask something of you."

Bilbo nodded and gulped. While he would do most anything to avoid being scorned for his spying, he did wonder what the elf would ask him to do. He hoped he wouldn't regret it.

Arwen took a deep breath, seeming to brace herself. "I would have you raise my baby," she whispered.

"What!" Elrohir and Elladan's cries filled the spacious room, and Bilbo winced at the intensity of their exclamation. Even Elrond looked shocked, his eyes wide, but he held up a hand to silence his sons.

"Arwen," he asked. "What is the meaning of this?"

Arwen gave her family pleading looks to beg them into silence, and then addressed her next words to Bilbo. "Take a seat," she told him. "This will need an explanation."

Bilbo remained where he was, his mouth hanging open. Had Arwen just asked him to raise her baby? Why would she do that? Didn't she want the child? Could Bilbo even take an elven child to Erebor?

It wasn't until Elrohir drew a chair from the balcony outside and set the hobbit in it that Bilbo again paid attention to his surroundings. He ignored the humility of the fact that his feet were dangling so far above the ground, instead turning his attention to Arwen as she began to speak.

"Have you heard of Isildur's heir?" she asked. Bilbo thought for a moment, and then nodded.

"Aragorn, yes?" he asked. "I met him briefly during my last visit here." Bilbo pushed aside memories of the young man he had encountered in the gardens of Rivendell; he needed to hear what Arwen said.

"Aragorn is my husband," Arwen told him. She ignored the way Bilbo's mouth fell open again. "We married in secret in the forest of Lothlórien, and during that time we were blessed with Minriel." By the loving glance Arwen gave her daughter at her words, Bilbo knew that was the infant's name. "A child who bears the blood of the high elves and of the kings of Gondor is in constant danger," she warned Bilbo. "I have spent the past year hiding my pregnancy from all except my family and a few trusted friends. Yet now these precautions would be for naught once she is seen." Now she leveled a steady gaze at Bilbo with steel grey eyes. "The only safe place for her is in Erebor. Please, will you protect my daughter?"

Bilbo was vaguely aware that his mouth had fallen open again, but he didn't care. His mind was whirling. He was being asked to raise Arwen's child. A child of mixed blood, a child who was practically a princess. Bilbo couldn't believe it.

The thing that struck him to most, however, was the fact that Arwen was entrusting him with the task. She had said that she had told only those she trusted the most with the knowledge that her baby even existed. Bilbo was honored that he seemed to be included within that group. He didn't understand it in the slightest, but nonetheless he was humbled.

"Why- why me?" he asked.

Arwen smiled. "As I said, I believe the mountain to be the safest place for her. None would think to look for such a child there. As for why you in particular, you are a rare person to Middle Earth. You possess no ill will toward any but orcs, and hold the ear of the monarchs of the west. You are the only person whom I feel is suited to raise Minriel."

Arwen watched Bilbo as he took in everything she had said, choosing to leave out her vision. The hobbit had enough on his plate without that knowledge, and her rare gifts didn't concern him. She studied Bilbo, watching the war that was raging in his mind play out across his face. Finally his features settled on something akin to humility, and he nodded.

"Of course," he responded. "I would be honored to." Now he paused, and when his sky blue eyes met Arwen's, they were cautious. "However, I cannot assure you of the reaction Minriel will receive by the dwarves."

Arwen nodded. She doubted that the mountain folk would at first be welcoming to Minriel, but she also knew that everything would, in the end, turn out fine. She had seen the dwarf king himself look at her daughter with nothing other than adoration in her vision. How could his people refuse?

"I trust you will find the right path," she told Bilbo. She left it at that, and was faintly amused by the frustration that flickered across his face as her vagueness. Still he nodded, sliding off the chair and backing to the door.

"I'll leave you now," he mumbled. He smiled softly, and Arwen sensed he was trying to part what comfort he could. "I wouldn't take her from you before I have to."

Arwen felt tears come to her eyes, and was glad the hobbit had slipped out of her room, so that he did not see them. Instead she clutched Minriel to her chest and turned to the pale faced gazes of her father and brother.

"Is that what you saw?" Elladan asked. "Did you see Minriel in Erebor?"

Arwen nodded. "Aye," she said softly. She settled back in her bed, rocking Minriel softly. "Would you like me to tell you what I saw?"


The funeral for the dwarves was a week later. Bilbo was immensely glad that they had agreed, with relative ease, to Elrond's offer. He simply did not have the patience to deal with stubborn dwarves. Not with everything else going on.

Bilbo was surprised to see the elves and dwarves working together to prepare the fallen dwarves for their burial. Soon the task was done, and a small group proceeded to the caves set deep into the valley of Imladris.

Bilbo supposed that even the elves of Rivendell held what he viewed as ridiculous grudges against dwarves, for it was only Elrond and his sons who accompanied the company to the caves. Bilbo was unsurprised by the fact that Arwen didn't accompany them; if he was her he would want to spend every moment he could with the child he would soon be giving up.

At the thought Bilbo glanced down to where Mithril walked beside him. Her face had already healed, aided by the salve Elrond had mixed for her. She walked quietly beside her father, sensing the solemn mood of those around her. Bilbo didn't know if she understood what was happening, but supposed that as long as she didn't create a ruckus he really didn't care.

The four dwarves were carried on wooden litters into the caves, where they were set upon several natural outcroppings of rock that served as beds. Bilbo joined Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir outside the caves with Mithril, giving his company a chance to say their final goodbyes. As they returned Bilbo tried not to notice the many red eyes.

Elrond stepped forward and raised his arms, and the land before the caves began to shudder. At first the dwarves looked panicked, but as a series of bushes and other thick flora crept to life they relaxed.

"None shall disturb them now," Elrond assured. The dwarves nodded and bowed, thankful, and Elrond gestured for his sons to follow him back to Rivendell. As they slipped quietly away they heard the first strains of a mourning song beginning behind them.

To his surprise, Elladan and Elrohir went straight to their rooms and grabbed packs, leaping onto the balcony rail as they prepared to slip out.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Elrohir grinned. "We're sneaking out," he supplied. "It wouldn't do for anyone to see us."

Elrond guessed immediately where they were going, and simply nodded. After so few months, the banishment of the man he'd once viewed as a son was a raw spot in his heart. "Be safe," he told them. Then he swept down the hall. He considered knocking on Arwen's door, but decided not to. The two were still at odds with each other, and he didn't want to disturb what little time she had left with Minriel. Elrond instead opted to return to his study, sighing as he sank into his chair before the piles of paperwork that awaited him.

Bilbo nodded to Elrond as he entered the dining hall, and the elf nodded in return. Though Bilbo had sat with him his first night, he now sat with his company, knowing it would be odd for him to spend all his time with the race the dwarves despised so much.

The meal was for once somber; no dwarf in the mood to go through their usual rowdy drinking songs and contests. Though Bilbo was glad that we wouldn't have to spend the next hour picking food out of Mithril's hair, he was still worried. This was not normal behavior for dwarves.

Still, he supposed it was to be expected. They had just buried their kin, and it was setting in that they would never see them again. Bilbo knew that many of his company had spent the past week sitting with their fallen, hoping that they would, against all odds, rise again.

So he took Mithril and led her to where Elrond sat, and the elf simply ordered two more chairs be brought for the pair. Soon Bilbo was sitting, albeit with his feet dangling much higher than he would like to admit, beside the lord, watching Mithril out of the corner of his eye as he ate.

Elrond swallowed a bite of food and turned to Bilbo. "I would like to discuss your travels," he began. "You know that the longer you can wait, the easier things will be. Minriel is still young."

Bilbo nodded, his glance moving to the dwarves seated at the next table. "I don't think this lot will be too eager to travel for some time," he assured Elrond. "They need time to grieve."

Elrond nodded. Should he feel bad about the relief he felt at the fact? He shoved aside his thoughts. "Not long enough, I'm afraid," he told Bilbo. "How do you plan on supplying Minriel with milk during the journey?"

Bilbo thought for a moment, tilting his head to the side. "We managed to keep some goats after the orc attack," he told Elrond. "We can use their milk." Elrond looked uncertain, so Bilbo pressed. "It's what I did for Mithril."

Elrond's face softened slightly at that, his gaze going to the small child that was currently picking at her salad with a scrunched up face. Bilbo sighed; sometimes she was such a picky eater.

"I would also have guards escort you to the mountain," Elrond told Bilbo. Bilbo blinked in surprise, and then reconsidered. Of course Elrond would want to ensure the safety of his granddaughter.

Bilbo nodded. "I think we can pass it off as you being concerned for the dwarves after the orc raid," he said.

Elrond looked mildly offended. "I am concerned for your dwarves," he insisted.

Bilbo smiled. "Of course," he placated. He then looked around. "Where are the boys?"

Elrond sighed. "They went to tell Aragorn of Minriel's birth."

Bilbo nodded, deciding to leave the topic alone. A couple of days after Minriel's birth Arwen had summoned Bilbo back to her room, and had given the hobbit a more detailed surmising of the events surrounding her daughter's conception. While Bilbo didn't understand how Elrond could deny Aragorn the right to see his wife or daughter, he knew better than to comment on the matter.

Soon the topic of conversation changed to other matters, as the pair didn't want to chance unwanted ears hearing about Minriel. As Mithril started to dose against Bilbo's side he sighed and hopped off his chair, gathering her in his arms.

"Goodnight," he called. Elrond waved a hand in farewell, watching the hobbit slip off with hooded eyes.


It was another month before the dwarves were ready to leave. Bilbo tried to subtly encourage them to take their time in their mourning, wanting to give Arwen as much time with Minriel as possible. He also knew that the longer they put off traveling, the stronger the baby would be.

Besides, there was a part of him that was terrified to complete the journey to the mountain. He wasn't entirely sure of the welcome he would get, and Minriel only complicated matters. Still, half elven child aside, Bilbo had missed eight years. He had no misgivings that his return would go smoothly.

He explained to the dwarves several days in advance that Elrond would be sending guards with them. Though his company was at first reluctant, once Bilbo reasoned that they would be safer with the added protection they agreed reluctantly. The hard part came when he told them about Minriel.

He didn't mention her heritage, merely stating that he was being asked to bear her to relatives to the east. He refused to say more on the subject of whom she was, insisting that it wasn't their business. Though no one was at all pleased by his vagueness, they eventually resigned themselves to carry the elven child with them. Bilbo Baggins was the lover of their king and the now unofficial head of their company, and they knew they couldn't leave him behind.

On the morning of their departure Bilbo rose early. While there were certain benefits to leading the party, such as the respect that was automatically endowed him, there were still drawbacks. Bilbo was responsible for seeing that they were set and ready to continue.

There was a small group of elves ready to travel with him; Elrond knew that a troop larger than ten would draw attention to the company. Bilbo was quickly assured by their leader that they were ready, and so he went to the carts the traders had packed. They had rid themselves of the majority of their items in the Shire, and so had plenty of room for food and water. Several goats were tied to one wagon, and once Bilbo was sure that none of the wheels were loose he allowed himself to relax.

There was only one task left, but Bilbo put it off to the last minute. He ate quickly, and then slipped out of the dining hall, bringing Mithril with him. It would be best for her to acquaint herself with the new addition to their family before they set out.

Arwen was waiting in her rooms, her back turned as Bilbo stepped in the door. He sat Mithril in a nearby chair and waited patiently, not wanting to disturb the mother and daughter in their final moments. From across the room he could faintly hear Arwen whispering to Minriel in Sindarin.

"I would ask one last thing of you," she said. Her back was still turned, so she didn't see the nod Bilbo gave her. "Do not raise her to call you father. It is selfish of me, but I would not have another take my place as parent."

"Of course." Bilbo's eyes widened, and he suddenly wondered if he had done the right thing in letting Mithril call him da. He pushed aside his worries; it was too late to think of that now. "She shall call me uncle."

Arwen nodded. "Thank you," she whispered. She spent one more moment with her daughter, then turned and made her way silently across the room. Bilbo politely ignored the elf's tears as she handed Minriel to him. Arwen's hands lingered for a moment on her daughter, and then she pulled back.

Bilbo looked down at the child he now held. This was the first time he had held her; he had insisted that Arwen hold her every chance she got during the brief time she had with Minriel. He gazed now into the steel grey eyes that were so like her mother's and smiled softly. He still couldn't quite believe that he was being entrusted with the task of raising Minriel.

Bilbo glanced behind him at Mithril's curious noises, and then backed up so that his daughter could peer over his shoulder at Minriel. Mithril had stood in the rocking chair she had been set in, and was balancing on its edge as she cooed at the baby. Bilbo couldn't help his smile as Mithril reached down, and Minriel eagerly snatched the girl's finger in one chubby hand.

Mithril laughed. "Namad," she giggled.

Bilbo looked up to Arwen. The elf was studying the trio before her with sad eyes, tear tracks visible on her face. As her gaze met the hobbit's she offered him a small smile.

"Good luck to you, Bilbo Baggins," she whispered. "Take care of my Minriel."

With that she turned away, and Bilbo silently slipped out of the room with his niece and daughter, leaving the elf to her grief.

He went to Elrond's study, hoping to give the lord or his sons a final moment with Minriel, but they weren't there. With a sigh he left the house, only to find the very elves he'd been searching for on the steps. All three pairs of eyes zeroed in on Minriel, but they only gave Bilbo a small nod and sad smile.

The company, along with their elven guards, was eager to get going. As Bilbo came into sight, Bifur, Bombur, and Bofur approached, eager to get a look at the new addition to the family. Despite their hatred of the girl's obvious elven lineage, they found it impossible not to fawn over the baby.

Elrond said a few words in farewell, and then Bilbo started forward at the head of the company. He didn't bother with his walking stick this time, using both hands to hold Minriel to his chest. Mithril pranced along beside him, Bifur not far behind. Flanking the hardened dwarf were Bofur and Bombur, and behind those three the rest of the company. The elves walked on the edges of the group, spaced evenly apart as they formed a perimeter between the company and whatever dangers awaited them.

Bilbo took a deep breath. Here we go.


Sorry this chapter is so long; we're trying to cut down on the chapters needed before we can get to the actual fellowship. Also, I'm so sorry it's been so long since my last update; life's been interfering with the fic.

Anyways, here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy it!

Namad: Sister (Khuzdul)