Disclaimer:  Oh Valar, I wish I owned even a fraction of Tolkien's creation, but alas I do not.  Characters, setting, plot; it all belongs to J.R.R. or Peter Jackson. Except the quotes, which belong to their respective owners.  And the title, which obviously belongs to Robert Frost.

~~~~~~~

            In the three days Bilbo had been at Rivendell, he had not seen hide or hair of Elrond or his sons since his arrival.  No one seemed to want to tell him anything either, and the hobbit was getting quite worried that something terrible had happened.

            Bilbo was currently lounging on my of the soft benches in the library, books spread out around him, and writing furiously away.

            "Good afternoon, Bilbo," the soft voice spoke from beside him.  The hobbit jumped so high he nearly fell off his seat, but did succeed in sending one of the books crashing to the floor.

            Elrond looked sorry for startling him as he bent to pick the book up.  "Hum, I forgotten I had this," he said of the book.  "Brushing up on your Quenya, my friend?"

            Bilbo had managed by this time to calm himself down and reorganize the books and himself on the bench.  "Oh, yes, I've translating some poetry.  Forgive me, Elrond, but I've not seen you in days.  Is everything alright?"

            "Yes, and it is I who must apologize.  Not doubt you were quite worried when I up and disappeared a few days ago.  But I've hardly left Estel's bedside for the last two days, and did not even think to send word to you."

            Bilbo's eyes widened at this mention.  "Oh, my lord!  I do hope the boy is alright?  I feared something dreadful when I didn't see you."

            A look of pain and anguish crossed Elrond's face for a moment.  "No, no, he will be well.  In time.  Estel, or Aragorn, as he is now called, had a small encounter with an orc party on his way back across the mountains.  The orcs, at least, came out of it worst off, for none survived, but Estel was injured, and the wound was poisoned.  He is healed now, but still rests, for which I am thankful.  Too often has he returned such.  But, you must think me odd, for you do not know who I speak of.  Estel is my foster-son, one of the Rangers of the North.  Indeed, you have met him before, when last you were here.  He was only a child of ten then, but he was fascinated by you, as I recall."           

            Bilbo thought hard about this, until suddenly the memory came back, of a small child hiding behind statues as he stalked Bilbo and the dwarves around Rivendell.  "Oh, yes, I do remember!  But, that boy was mortal…oh."

            "Yes, he is mortal.  More than that I will not tell, for it is not my place to.  In a few days, when he has regained his strength, no doubt he will want to visit with you before you leave.  Now, as I have been remiss in my duties as host, would you accept my invitation to a private dinner?  I believe we have much to discuss."

            Bilbo smiled gladly.  "Oh, yes Elrond.  I would be honoured.  Just let me finish with this, and clean up a bit, and then I shall be ready."

            "Take all the time you need, my friend.  I will go and check on Estel before we sup." 

            Bilbo's smiled turned into a frown of concentration as soon as Elrond had turned his back.  Well, this is a puzzle, he thought.  Now why would a great elf-lord go about adopting a mortal?  There is more to this than meets the eye!

~~~~~~~

            Indeed, it was not until the day before Bilbo was due to leave with the twins, that Elrond announced to him that Estel, or Aragorn as he was also called, was fit enough for company.

            Bilbo was hesitant as he followed the half-elf into the room, to find a man propped up on what seemed a mound of pillows on the bed.

            "Do you feel up to some company Estel?  I've brought Bilbo to visit you, for he is very curious.  I trust you remember the dear hobbit?"

            Bilbo steeled his courage and stepped out from behind Elrond's shadow to meet the man's eyes.

            "Why yes, ada!  Greetings Bilbo Baggins; it has been some years since last I saw you.  Though you have not changed much!"  Aragorn was smiling brightly at him, and Bilbo could detect, though it was difficult at first, the look of the playful boy he had first met sixty years before.

            "Mae govannen," Bilbo answered, though he was not certain why he did it in elvish.  "'Tis good to see you again, sir."

            "Oh, none of that please!  I am a good deal too young for you to be calling sir!  Aragorn, or Estel will do just find.  But come and sit with me Bilbo, for there is much I would ask you."

            "It would be my pleasure," Bilbo said, and took at seat in the chair at the man's bedside.

            "Well, I know you are in good hands, ion.  But, please, do not overdo it?  And do not move from that bed!"  Elrond's orders were called out good naturally, but there was an underlying note of command to them.

            "Yes, ada," Estel said, as if he had heard the same thing many times before.  "I will be good, I promise."

            Elrond smiled and closed the door behind him.

            "Oh, Bilbo, it's wonderful to finally be able to talk to you.  Ada would not let me, when last you were here.  But please, if it is not too much to ask, would you tell me the story of your adventure?  Gandalf told it to me once, when I was young, but no doubt he left out much, as he always does with things.  I'd like to hear your version."

            Bilbo smiled.  "Well, I can't imagine it's any better than Gandalf's, but I'll try my best!"

~~~~~~~

            Bilbo awoke the morning of his departure to discover he could barely movie for the pain in his back.  He thought he had simply slept in some queer position, but after a few attempts at practice stretches he was forced to admit he wouldn't be going anywhere that day.

            With a long suffering sigh he set about getting dressed, trying to bend his poor back as little as possible.  It was a painfully long procedure.  Once finished, and he had regained his breathe, he set out for the study.

            It was only shortly after dawn, but Elrond always rose early, and like as not he could be found in his library at that hour of the day.  Bilbo hated to tell him he would not be able to leave, and looked forward even less to explaining it to Elladan and Elrohir who had offered to guide him to Mirkwood (they were going to visit the Prince Legolas anyways).  Bilbo shuddered at the thought of what the Lord of Rivendell would say, and even more so at the inevitable taste of the concoction Elrond would soon be forcing down his throat to relieve him of his agony.

            The half-elf might be the greatest healer in Middle-earth, but his medicines, Bilbo concluded, had to taste the worst.

            With one last shudder and subsequent wince of pain, Bilbo found he had suddenly arrived at the library.  He nearly lost his courage, until he thought about what Frodo would say if he were there.  "Honestly uncle, it's only medicine.  It's good for you.  Or at least you always tell me so when you're forcing something foul down my throat!"

            Bilbo came to the realization he was being a coward, and acting like a young child while he was at it.  Ashamed with himself he wasted no time in knocking firmly on the door.  As always it was slightly ajar, and Bilbo knew he was welcome, but it was the polite thing to do.

            A soft call came from within, in the elven-lord's commanding, but kind voice.  Stifling another wince he pushed the door open and slipped inside.

            "Oh, Bilbo, a good morning to you," Elrond called from his desk.

            Bilbo forced a smile to his face as he approached the desk.  "Good morning to you as well Master Elrond."

            Elrond regarded him closely, a confused expression on his face.  "You do not seem to be dressed for travel, Bilbo.  I had thought you were to be leaving soon.  Shouldn't you not be ready by now?"

            "Ah," Bilbo started, "I must apologize, my lord: I do not think I shall be able to leave today."

            Elrond set his quill aside and gave the hobbit his full attention.  "And why is that, my friend?"

            "Well, you see, I have awakened this morning with a rather annoying ache in my back.  It is a might too uncomfortable to be walking about the countryside with."

            As Bilbo had suspected, as soon as he mentioned a 'pain in his back', Elrond had adopted the look of serious concern that Bilbo had named his 'healer's face'.

            "Do you suppose you simply slept wrong?  Or does it feel like something more," the healer inquired.

            "Something more painful, I think.  Though it is only an ache when I am standing straight.  I'm sure it will be gone by tomorrow and I will be ready to set out then."

            "If you are in that much pain Bilbo, the last thing you should be doing is setting out on a month-long journey over the mountains.  You won't be leaving this valley until I am sure you are well."

            Bilbo sighted in resignation, though he didn't argue it.  There was little point; he knew Elrond would win.  "Your sons shall be disappointed, I fear."

            Elrond smiled, "Oh, they can delay a few days.  And if it should take longer, then they will journey on their own.  There are plenty here that would volunteer to guide you on your travels at a later date.  Now, will you allow me to examine you?"

            Bilbo nodded.  "Yes, for I know you will not let me leave this room otherwise.  And the ache is an annoyance."

            "You give in gracefully, dear hobbit.  Much better than many in this valley."  Elrond was setting his writing aside and rising from the chair.

            "Would I be correct in hazarding that your sons would be among that many?" Bilbo looked at Elrond with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

            "Oh, most assuredly, Bilbo.  The worst of the many in fact.  And that includes Aragorn as well.  Come, we shall find the twins first before they begin to wonder where you are."

            Laughing about the plague of wayward children, the two mismatched friends set off for the dining hall.

~~~~~~~

            "I am aware you will not want to hear this, Bilbo," Elrond started.  He was looking at the hobbit with a serious expression on his face, which had Bilbo not been aware that it was a common look for the Lord of Imladris, would have found him self quite worried.  "I think, my friend that age is finally catching up with you."

            The room was silent.  Elrond was still looking serious, and Bilbo had adopted a contemplative expression. 

            At last the hobbit sighed.  "Perhaps you are right.  I have noticed a good many aches in places that didn't used to ache.  And I've been sleeping more as of late.  Perhaps Gandalf was right, and that blasted ring has done something to me.  Though I suppose it's too late now to do anything about.  Humph, growing old, now that I must say I'm not looking forward to."  He paused and looked thoughtfully at Elrond.  "I suppose what you're trying to say, without actually saying it, is that I'm too old to go traipsing across Arda?"

            "Yes, Bilbo, that is what I am saying.  I do not want you to start off on this journey, only to fall ill, or discover you cannot continue."  Elrond gave him a sympathetic look, but Bilbo saw the pity in it as well. 

            Yes, he though, pity me because I am mortal and growing old and frail.  "Well," he tried to put on a good front.  "I can't say I'm not disappointed; you have to understand I've been looking forward to this trip for years.  But I can't go back to the Shire now."

            "You are, as always welcome to stay here Bilbo, for so long as you wish.  Imladris will be all the livelier for your presence." He fell silent for a moment.  "I am sorry, my friend."

            "Yes, well, thank you Elrond.  I had best be about my day I suppose."  Bilbo got down out of the chair he had been sitting in as gracefully as he could manage and slumped out of the room.

            Elrond looked after him, brows drawn together in a frown.