Letter Two--Bilbo
A/N: Arwen was in Lothlorien at the time this chapter takes place, but
since this is an AU, I am taking the liberty of having her visiting her father then. To reply to Shirebound's review, the secret of how the letters are making their way from Bilbo to Frodo and back will be revealed in time.
)
Bilbo walked slowly through the large center garden of Imladris, marveling at the flowers that surrounded him. There were so many, some familiar, and some beautiful and elvish that he had never before seen. He couldn't help thinking of home again, and his dear nephew, when he look at the roses that were Frodo's favorite, and held one tenderly.
"Bell would love these gardens...the Gaffer would find them far too unusual and elvish!" Bilbo chuckled to himself.
After his walk, he made his way to a small bench by a fountain, content to simply marvel at the beauty of the elven city.
"I simply can't fathom how the elves can live in a place so quiet..." he murmured, startled when a lilting voice answered his quiet query.
"How do your folk live with much noise?" Bilbo turned, and to his great surprise, an elf maid was seated next to him, more beautiful than any he had ever seen. Her long black hair rippled down her shoulders and her skin was very pale. She was clothed in a long silver gown, and around her neck was a white jewel like a star on a silver chain. The lady smiled warmly, and spoke again to the startled hobbit.
"Forgive me, sir. I should properly introduce myself." She bowed her head and looked up again, smiling. "I am Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond. It is an honor to meet you, Master Baggins." Bilbo smiled bemusedly in return.
"She looks not much older than my Frodo," he thought, laughing to himself. "What stories I will have to tell him."
"Not as much of an honor as it is to meet you, my lady. And please, call me Bilbo." Bilbo bowed a bit, and stumbled, causing Arwen to laugh. The old hobbit blushed, but smiled.
"To answer your question, Mast---Bilbo, I suppose elves are simply used to the quiet. It *is* very peaceful here, but we are glad to have a halfling among us, especially one of your renown."
"It is wonderful to be here. I've wanted to return ever since the first time I visited...but I needed to go back to the Shire, for a time. I miss it, even now." Bilbo sighed sadly, but quickly cheered again.
"Your father speaks highly of you, my dear. He tells me you are an artist, like your mother." Arwen blushed, and her eyes were a bit sad.
"I sew. I do not match my mother's skill, her paintings, but I enjoy it. When I was younger my mother would let me watch her while she painted, and I would sometimes be allowed to add things to the picture if I wished." Arwen smiled at the vivid memory.
"Do you miss her, my lady?" Arwen blinked, and gave the old hobbit a curious look, sighing delicately.
"No one, not even my father or brothers, has asked me that in quite a long time, Bilbo. The truth is, I do. I miss her greatly. But she could no longer find happiness in Middle Earth, and she will find healing in the Uttermost West."
"But..." Bilbo prompted, smirking slightly.
"But I know I will never again see her. I have had visions; I know what will come to pass. We have had our last parting." Bilbo opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. Arwen's face was resolute, and she fingered the white jewel around her neck. That sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, and soon Arwen smiled again.
"Tell me about where you come from, Bilbo. My father tells me you have a young nephew, Frodo. I would love to meet him someday, from what I have heard." Bilbo grinned proudly.
"Frodo is indeed a remarkable lad. I am so thankful to have him in my life. His childhood was so difficult, when I finally adopted him it was a great relief to us both, I think." Arwen smiled.
"I've come so close to losing him, too many times...His health is very frail, and can be such a burden to him, but I only want him to be well and happy," he continued softly.
"That is all any parent wants for their child," Arwen said soothingly. "It must be a great comfort for him, to know how much you care." Bilbo gazed ahead for a moment, and nodded.
"He is a great comfort to me, as well."
Arwen suddenly closed her eyes, as if deeply in thought, and frowned, sighing to herself
"Frodo's path will not be an easy one; I can see that," she thought to herself, fingering her necklace.
"What is wrong, my lady?" Bilbo asked with concern. Arwen decided to be truthful with the old hobbit, who she was surprised to find she now greatly trusted.
"I have foreseen Frodo's path, Bilbo." The hobbit looked a bit confused, but nodded.
"What did you see?" He asked. Arwen bit her lip.
"He will face hardship, but he will persevere. We will meet, and I will play some part on his road, although I do not know what that will be, yet. That is all I can say." Bilbo nodded seriously.
"I would have guessed that, myself, to be truthful. Frodo is destined for adventure and greater things than the Shire can provide him. He longs to see things even beyond this world. I could see it in his eyes, from the moment he was born. Eyes like the sea..." Bilbo said, ending quietly.
"He will see many things," she smiled. "And he will see you again, of that I am sure."
Bilbo patted her hand, and they sat in companionable silence, white petals and rust colored leaves floating in the breeze.
********************************************************
Later, Bilbo sat in his room, attempting to get some more writing done but feeling strangely distracted. His mind continually drifted back to his conversation with Arwen, and he felt the need to see or speak to his nephew, although he knew he mustn't mention she had told him.
He took out a clean sheet of parchment and removed his quill from its crystal stand. Everything in Rivendell was so much finer than its Shire counterpart, even the paper was shimmering, seemingly flecked with the light of the stars itself.
"It's curious, how such a beautiful place can be so sad..." Bilbo thought, as he dipped his quill in the ink and began to write. Suddenly, though, he heard a knock on his door, and hurried over to it curiously. He rarely received visitors and when he did, they rarely bothered to knock. Bilbo had at first considered it rude, but eventually realized that the elves did not follow such petty formalities and accepted it.
"Who is it?" He asked as her made his way to the large door, made of gleaming white marble.
"It is Glorfindel, Master Hobbit. A letter has arrived for you, from your nephew Frodo."
Bilbo smiled as he opened the door and accepted the letter gratefully. Glorfindel bowed and departed silently. He was an elf of few words, but Bilbo liked him a great deal.
The old hobbit closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of his large bed to read the letter. He opened it carefully with a small knife, and grinned at the familiar handwriting of his beloved Frodo.
Dear Uncle Bilbo,
What a wonderful surprise it was to hear from you! I was quite afraid that we had lost contact, but I realize now that you would never forget to write. I know I can always count on you, uncle, and these letters will be such a comfort.
It is lonely in Bag End without you here, but I am slowly growing used to the quiet. I'm afraid I don't have stories to share that will rival yours, of meeting elvish lords and such, but quite a few things have happened since you left that are of note.
I'm afraid Lobelia is up to her old tricks. She has been sending letter after letter, and calling on me at unreasonable hours of the day, wanting to talk about her supposed right to own Bag End now. Sometimes I wonder why you made me your heir, Bilbo. You certainly have caused me a lot of unnecessary trouble.
The Gamgees are doing well. The Gaffer has officially overturned all of his duties to Sam, and I'm quite happy to see him more often. We have the most wonderful long talks by the garden, and I am spending more time outdoors with him when the weather and my health permit. Merry has informed me I am somewhat of a shut in, and pale as a sheet, and I suppose he's right in that regard. It's simply gotten worse since you've left, but don't worry yourself over me. Things are indeed much the same as usual, and when I fall into a rut I have my friends to help me out of it, thank goodness for that.
How are you, though? I want to hear all about Rivendell, and all of the elves you are meeting. You told me once Lord Elrond has a device he uses to look at the stars closely, a telescope I think you called it. I remember you saying that when you were ill, you spent hours looking at the sky with it, to pass the time. Is it still there? I would love to hear what you can see from where you are. It would be nice to know we are looking at the same stars and moon, however far away we are from each other.
I am sorry for the brevity of this letter, and for my tendency to ramble on. I'm sure that my doings are not of nearly as much interest as the goings on where you are. I miss you greatly, and look forward to your next letter.
With Very Much Love,
Your Nephew, Frodo Baggins
Master of Bag End
PS---It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? -FB
PPS---Sam has asked me to inform you that your vegetables are doing wonderfully, and he plans to plant a new tree in your honor.
Bilbo put down the letter and smiled broadly.
"A tree, hmm? I wonder what kind it will be," he thought to himself.
"I miss that lad dreadfully. Dreadfully."
Bilbo sighed, and began to write again. He hurried to finish, for he had a more important task at hand for later; penning a response to Frodo.
Outside the leaves continued to fall, and the elves went about their business, but inside his room, Bilbo whistled quietly, a flower of home blooming in his heart.
A/N: Arwen was in Lothlorien at the time this chapter takes place, but
since this is an AU, I am taking the liberty of having her visiting her father then. To reply to Shirebound's review, the secret of how the letters are making their way from Bilbo to Frodo and back will be revealed in time.
)
Bilbo walked slowly through the large center garden of Imladris, marveling at the flowers that surrounded him. There were so many, some familiar, and some beautiful and elvish that he had never before seen. He couldn't help thinking of home again, and his dear nephew, when he look at the roses that were Frodo's favorite, and held one tenderly.
"Bell would love these gardens...the Gaffer would find them far too unusual and elvish!" Bilbo chuckled to himself.
After his walk, he made his way to a small bench by a fountain, content to simply marvel at the beauty of the elven city.
"I simply can't fathom how the elves can live in a place so quiet..." he murmured, startled when a lilting voice answered his quiet query.
"How do your folk live with much noise?" Bilbo turned, and to his great surprise, an elf maid was seated next to him, more beautiful than any he had ever seen. Her long black hair rippled down her shoulders and her skin was very pale. She was clothed in a long silver gown, and around her neck was a white jewel like a star on a silver chain. The lady smiled warmly, and spoke again to the startled hobbit.
"Forgive me, sir. I should properly introduce myself." She bowed her head and looked up again, smiling. "I am Arwen, daughter of Lord Elrond. It is an honor to meet you, Master Baggins." Bilbo smiled bemusedly in return.
"She looks not much older than my Frodo," he thought, laughing to himself. "What stories I will have to tell him."
"Not as much of an honor as it is to meet you, my lady. And please, call me Bilbo." Bilbo bowed a bit, and stumbled, causing Arwen to laugh. The old hobbit blushed, but smiled.
"To answer your question, Mast---Bilbo, I suppose elves are simply used to the quiet. It *is* very peaceful here, but we are glad to have a halfling among us, especially one of your renown."
"It is wonderful to be here. I've wanted to return ever since the first time I visited...but I needed to go back to the Shire, for a time. I miss it, even now." Bilbo sighed sadly, but quickly cheered again.
"Your father speaks highly of you, my dear. He tells me you are an artist, like your mother." Arwen blushed, and her eyes were a bit sad.
"I sew. I do not match my mother's skill, her paintings, but I enjoy it. When I was younger my mother would let me watch her while she painted, and I would sometimes be allowed to add things to the picture if I wished." Arwen smiled at the vivid memory.
"Do you miss her, my lady?" Arwen blinked, and gave the old hobbit a curious look, sighing delicately.
"No one, not even my father or brothers, has asked me that in quite a long time, Bilbo. The truth is, I do. I miss her greatly. But she could no longer find happiness in Middle Earth, and she will find healing in the Uttermost West."
"But..." Bilbo prompted, smirking slightly.
"But I know I will never again see her. I have had visions; I know what will come to pass. We have had our last parting." Bilbo opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. Arwen's face was resolute, and she fingered the white jewel around her neck. That sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments, and soon Arwen smiled again.
"Tell me about where you come from, Bilbo. My father tells me you have a young nephew, Frodo. I would love to meet him someday, from what I have heard." Bilbo grinned proudly.
"Frodo is indeed a remarkable lad. I am so thankful to have him in my life. His childhood was so difficult, when I finally adopted him it was a great relief to us both, I think." Arwen smiled.
"I've come so close to losing him, too many times...His health is very frail, and can be such a burden to him, but I only want him to be well and happy," he continued softly.
"That is all any parent wants for their child," Arwen said soothingly. "It must be a great comfort for him, to know how much you care." Bilbo gazed ahead for a moment, and nodded.
"He is a great comfort to me, as well."
Arwen suddenly closed her eyes, as if deeply in thought, and frowned, sighing to herself
"Frodo's path will not be an easy one; I can see that," she thought to herself, fingering her necklace.
"What is wrong, my lady?" Bilbo asked with concern. Arwen decided to be truthful with the old hobbit, who she was surprised to find she now greatly trusted.
"I have foreseen Frodo's path, Bilbo." The hobbit looked a bit confused, but nodded.
"What did you see?" He asked. Arwen bit her lip.
"He will face hardship, but he will persevere. We will meet, and I will play some part on his road, although I do not know what that will be, yet. That is all I can say." Bilbo nodded seriously.
"I would have guessed that, myself, to be truthful. Frodo is destined for adventure and greater things than the Shire can provide him. He longs to see things even beyond this world. I could see it in his eyes, from the moment he was born. Eyes like the sea..." Bilbo said, ending quietly.
"He will see many things," she smiled. "And he will see you again, of that I am sure."
Bilbo patted her hand, and they sat in companionable silence, white petals and rust colored leaves floating in the breeze.
********************************************************
Later, Bilbo sat in his room, attempting to get some more writing done but feeling strangely distracted. His mind continually drifted back to his conversation with Arwen, and he felt the need to see or speak to his nephew, although he knew he mustn't mention she had told him.
He took out a clean sheet of parchment and removed his quill from its crystal stand. Everything in Rivendell was so much finer than its Shire counterpart, even the paper was shimmering, seemingly flecked with the light of the stars itself.
"It's curious, how such a beautiful place can be so sad..." Bilbo thought, as he dipped his quill in the ink and began to write. Suddenly, though, he heard a knock on his door, and hurried over to it curiously. He rarely received visitors and when he did, they rarely bothered to knock. Bilbo had at first considered it rude, but eventually realized that the elves did not follow such petty formalities and accepted it.
"Who is it?" He asked as her made his way to the large door, made of gleaming white marble.
"It is Glorfindel, Master Hobbit. A letter has arrived for you, from your nephew Frodo."
Bilbo smiled as he opened the door and accepted the letter gratefully. Glorfindel bowed and departed silently. He was an elf of few words, but Bilbo liked him a great deal.
The old hobbit closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of his large bed to read the letter. He opened it carefully with a small knife, and grinned at the familiar handwriting of his beloved Frodo.
Dear Uncle Bilbo,
What a wonderful surprise it was to hear from you! I was quite afraid that we had lost contact, but I realize now that you would never forget to write. I know I can always count on you, uncle, and these letters will be such a comfort.
It is lonely in Bag End without you here, but I am slowly growing used to the quiet. I'm afraid I don't have stories to share that will rival yours, of meeting elvish lords and such, but quite a few things have happened since you left that are of note.
I'm afraid Lobelia is up to her old tricks. She has been sending letter after letter, and calling on me at unreasonable hours of the day, wanting to talk about her supposed right to own Bag End now. Sometimes I wonder why you made me your heir, Bilbo. You certainly have caused me a lot of unnecessary trouble.
The Gamgees are doing well. The Gaffer has officially overturned all of his duties to Sam, and I'm quite happy to see him more often. We have the most wonderful long talks by the garden, and I am spending more time outdoors with him when the weather and my health permit. Merry has informed me I am somewhat of a shut in, and pale as a sheet, and I suppose he's right in that regard. It's simply gotten worse since you've left, but don't worry yourself over me. Things are indeed much the same as usual, and when I fall into a rut I have my friends to help me out of it, thank goodness for that.
How are you, though? I want to hear all about Rivendell, and all of the elves you are meeting. You told me once Lord Elrond has a device he uses to look at the stars closely, a telescope I think you called it. I remember you saying that when you were ill, you spent hours looking at the sky with it, to pass the time. Is it still there? I would love to hear what you can see from where you are. It would be nice to know we are looking at the same stars and moon, however far away we are from each other.
I am sorry for the brevity of this letter, and for my tendency to ramble on. I'm sure that my doings are not of nearly as much interest as the goings on where you are. I miss you greatly, and look forward to your next letter.
With Very Much Love,
Your Nephew, Frodo Baggins
Master of Bag End
PS---It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? -FB
PPS---Sam has asked me to inform you that your vegetables are doing wonderfully, and he plans to plant a new tree in your honor.
Bilbo put down the letter and smiled broadly.
"A tree, hmm? I wonder what kind it will be," he thought to himself.
"I miss that lad dreadfully. Dreadfully."
Bilbo sighed, and began to write again. He hurried to finish, for he had a more important task at hand for later; penning a response to Frodo.
Outside the leaves continued to fall, and the elves went about their business, but inside his room, Bilbo whistled quietly, a flower of home blooming in his heart.
