Written for Periantari who came up with this bunny: Bilbo angst at first finding out that the one ring is indeed in possession of Frodo—finding out in Rivendell, what does he do?
The crisp autumn air blew through the trees, scattering an array of colorful leaves toward the shadows of the tall buildings. A lone figure sat on a bench under such a tree, the cool air hitting his face and tousling his curly hair in every direction. He was smaller than most of the citizens of this city and a bit chubbier too, but that was not the only peculiar thing about him. His face bore a guilty, frustrated look. He had been visited by Gandalf the Grey a mere week ago, and his friend's suspicions of the Ring that Bilbo had given to Frodo had put him ill at ease. Even though Gandalf had tried to make sure he understood that it was sheer speculation, Bilbo had not been easy to calm.
The past few weeks he had spent trying to prod information out of Elrond and had visited the vast Elven library, but he did not find any information on any shelf he could reach, and none of the elves were keen to help him look for information about the One Ring. He wished he could return to the Shire, but his brittle bones and increasing aches and pains only led for need of more rest and less travel. Why had he been so dense when Gandalf mentioned that magic rings should not be thought unimportant, cast away as if something of little significance. Perhaps if he had not been so slow on the uptake, Frodo would not have the Ring and would be safe. But no, he knew Frodo was bright and would not have let Gandalf's words of warning fall upon deaf ears. He would think of something drastic to prevent danger from falling upon him.
He anxiously anticipated the visit of his wizard friend and news of happenings of his cousin. He stood, feeling useless and felt that he could no longer just sit there. His went down to the ground level of Rivendell, along a serene lake which had a few scattered leaves flowing atop it. He leaned over, picked up a rock and threw it across the lake where it splattered into the billowing blue-gray robes of an elf – Elrond's son, Elrohir.
"Hello, Master hobbit!" he greeted, striding around the lake to meet him.
"Hullo," Bilbo replied, bowing to the Elven prince. "I'm sorry I had hit you with my rock; it was unintentional."
Elrohir merely chuckled and said, "No need for apologizing and bowing, Bilbo."
"Bilbo said nothing but only gazed out over the lake toward the dancing leaves and ivory gazebo.
"You seem distracted; is something the matter?"
Bilbo waved his hand and shrugged it off. "I'll be fine as soon as Gandalf returns," he answered.
"Mithrandir?" the elf repeated. "I have heard there are preparations for a feast for him and my father...and you. I was to bring you there later, but I suppose nothing is harmed by your knowing one surprise sooner."
Bilbo's mouth twitched as though he was fighting off a smile. "Do you know the reason for his visit?"
Elrohirnodded gravely. "I do, though it is not something I wish to dwell upon speaking about."
"Then, the Ring is found?"
Elrohir glanced down at Bilbo sharply. "How did you guess?" He waved his hand to show there was no need to answer. "Of course, Mithrandir has held you in his highest confidence. It should be of no surprise to me."
"My cousin – Frodo – he- the Ring I left him, it's the one, isn't it?" Bilbo asked hesitantly, stumbling over his words. Elrohir remained silent, and Bilbo caught the drift. If only I'd kept the Ring, brought it with me, then Frodo's life would not be turned upside down, Bilbo thought "What-what does this mean?" Bilbo stuttered, his heart beating fast. No, it could not be.
Elrohir looked at him stoically. "He will have to bring it here. Mithrandir has sent word ahead for the arrangements. Bilbo, Frodo is on his way. There will be a counsel to settle what is to be done. There is no question that it is to be destroyed, but we must make a decision with the rest of Middle Earth's people who will do it."
Bilbo remained silent for a moment, his face crestfallen. He knew the answer. Frodo loved the Shire, loved the peace it had. He would wish to destroy the Ring to protect his homeland, to put his own life on hold to ensure safety for many.
"Frodo – he will take it," he said quietly to himself.
"Pardon?"
"Frodo will take it," he repeated a little louder so that Elrohir could hear him. "I know my cousin.He will not hesitate to risk his own life to save that of many."
"It may yet be, but even the elves cannot see who will." He placed a consoling hand upon the hobbit's shoulder. "We must go now. Father wants you to be there when Mithrandir arrives with your cousin."
Bilbo nodded, the meal was not on his mind, only fear for what he felt his cousin may do. He knew that as soon as he retired for the evening, he would prepare his sword and mithril shirt. His cousin would need them more than he.
The meal went by with little talk. In fact, the only ones who were open to talk were Merry and Pippin and a wary Sam, who tried to get them to notice inconspicuously that everyone else was silent. Bilbo had nearly laughed at some of Sam's attempts, but the mood was too heavy to do so. He retired soon after the evening meal before Frodo or Gandalf could speak with him. He dreaded the moment he knew would come. Frodo would perhaps question him, see what he knew. What if he blamed him?
Bilbo shook his head to clear his mind of such thoughts. Frodo would be gracious, would not say it even if he thought it. He sighed, getting off his bed and walking over to his wardrobe, opening a drawer low to the ground and digging around the various mathoms to find what he knew lay beneath – his Mithril shirt and Sting. Once he found them, he looked for a polishing cloth. He had abandoned his sword over the years, as he had no need for it and it had begun to rust.
Having attained this, he sat back on his bed, beginning to polish with such care. He would give it to Frodo in its most presentable look. He would not give his cousin something that looked tarnished, not after giving him what could cost him his life.
A distinct tapping sounded on his door, followed closely by, "Bilbo?"
Bilbo promptly hid Sting beneath one of the pillows on his bed and got up, opening the door, looking upward, though seeing the billowing robes was enough to tell him who it was. "Gandalf," he said, his mouth twitching to form a smile that never quite came.
"It's good to see you again, Bilbo," Gandalf said, coming in and seating himself where Bilbo motioned.
"Good to see you, too," Bilbo said distractedly, rushing to put some water in a kettle over the fire to boil.