The next few days passed frustratingly uneventfully for Líriel. She spent the time exploring the city with a keen eye. Occasionally she was joined by the twins or Folwin. She used these opportunities to collect more information - for instance, she discovered that there was only one entrance to the city. This revelation did not please her. It would make her escape much more difficult.

To add to her frustrations, she still had no idea where her target was. As far as she could tell, there were no Men in Rivendell. It was baffling. She had been assured, several times, that she would find this Strider here. And Sainor was never wrong. As of yet she had no other leads, so, she concluded with irritation, the only thing to do was spend her time preparing.

"Despite all this, she reflected, it wasn't exactly unpleasant, having a reason to stay in Imladris longer. The elves she had met were all really quite pleasant. She had even spent an evening discussing her "home" with Elrond over dinner. He was so kind that, for the first time in her life, telling lies made her feel somewhat uncomfortable.

She couldn't wait to be done with her task so that she could leave this place and be done with these conflicting feelings. It wasn't as if she had any choice any way. The ever present chain around her neck made it impossible to forget that. Kill or be killed. An easy choice to make.

One afternoon, whilst entering the library, she bumped into something completely unexpected. As she walked through the door, someone else walked out, and she literally walked into him.

"Not that I could be faulted for that," she reflected with amusement later on. For this library visitor was a halfling, and barely half her height at that. She didn't see him at all.

The collision caused the halfling to drop the papers and books he was carrying. As he bent over to pick them up, she could only stand there in disbelief.

Belatedly, she remembered the comment that Elrohir had made on her first day, about Elrond having a halfling for a guest. At the time she'd been too busy with other thoughts to give much time to that fact and now, confronted with the halfling himself, she found herself speechless.

"If you're going to knock me over, you could at least help me to retrieve my belongings afterwards, girl," came a voice from below.

"I - yes - indeed - I mean, forgive me," she said, trying to reign in her shock, "I was merely surprised. One does not expect to find a halfling in the halls of Imladris."

She quickly gathered the rest of the papers and handed them to the halfling.

He looked up at her. "I thought everyone living here knew about me by now - oh, but I see you're new here. You arrived the other day, didn't you? Yes, yes, I saw you. And for reference, my folk prefer to be called hobbits." He held out his hand. "I'm Bilbo Baggins, pleased to meet you."

All of this was said in perfect Sindarin. Líriel was fascinated. She took his hand and shook it. "I am Líriel of the Firien Wood. Forgive my ignorance, I know very little about folk other than my own, but I should like to hear more about - hobbits, if you would like to tell me. Are you going somewhere? Can I carry those books for you? It's the least I can do after walking into you like that."

Bilbo handed the books to her without a second thought and immediately headed off down the corridor. Líriel followed him.

"I was just heading to my rooms. I usually eat my lunch there, I don't often feel like joining the others in the dining hall. Why don't you join me? It's not often you meet elves as friendly as you. Your kind are usually very stand-offish, oh yes indeed. Oh they tolerate me, even respect me in their way, but even so, elves on the whole have a hard time talking with folk from outside their own race. Tell me, do you live up to your name? I've got a song or two I've not had the chance to share with anyone yet, and I'd be glad of someone to perform them for me. I don't have the voice for it, of course. I'll show you them over lunch. I'll let them know that I have a guest."

Líriel could barely conceal her amusement. She hadn't even had to accept his invitation to lunch, he'd simply assumed it and moved on to the next topic. For a mortal to speak Sindarin, to even pick up on the fact that her name meant "song" - that was extremely intriguing. She would definitely enjoy spending time with him. And, the thought arose in the back of her mind, perhaps he could prove useful.

"I've been told that I'm a competent singer, although I doubt I match the singers of Rivendell," she told him, "I can try your songs for you if you like. I do owe you, after all."

"Good, good, that's settled then," said the hobbit. Just then they walked past a girl who looked to be a maid, and Bilbo stopped her and told her to tell the kitchens that he would be having a guest to lunch. The girl nodded and hurried away. As she departed, Bilbo called after her, "And tell them to bring us some tea!"

"Excellent," said Bilbo, rubbing his hands, "They feed me very well, you know. Yes, very well indeed, and I wouldn't be surprised if they throw in something a little extra since I'm having a guest, they usually do. Well, here are my quarters!" And he opened the door into a large living room.

Líriel entered and looked around with interest. The room was covered in books and scrolls. Against one wall stood a desk that was hobbit-sized. The floor around it was covered in crumpled up parchment. On the opposite side of the room were large glass doors that opened onto a balcony. The room was beautifully decorated. It was obvious that the elves of Imladris held Bilbo in high accord, whatever he might think. His living room alone was three times the size of Líriel's sleeping quarters, and there was a door that she assumed led to a bedroom.

"You can put the books over there," said Bilbo whilst indicating a bookshelf, "and then sit down my girl, and tell me all about yourself. I'm always looking to hear about other lands - in fact, I've done my fair share of travelling myself - you might have heard of it."

"I'm afraid not," said Líriel diplomatically, as she sat on a sofa facing Bilbo. "I haven't spoken much with anyone here about about anything in particular - otherwise, I'm sure they would have told me about you. But there, that means you can tell me yourself, which will surely be more enjoyable for me."

"All in good time my dear, all in good time," said Bilbo unhurriedly, "First you must tell me all about yourself, and why you came to Imladris, and about the others where you live. Maybe I'll get some new material for my book - but more about that later." He waved at her, and she understood that it was her turn to talk. Once again, she found herself feeling conflicted about lying to someone that seemed so kind. Every aspect of this mission was turning out to be horribly complicated.

She bravely related to him most of the things she had told Elrond. Bilbo listened with interest, interrupting frequently to ask questions. At some point a maid arrived with tea and cakes, and some time after that several maids arrived with a large lunch spread.

The time flew by quickly. After Bilbo was satisfied with her accounting of herself, he began showing her various poems and songs he had written. She sang a few of his songs for him, and he declared her to be "exquisite". This came as a relief for Líriel, for she had very little experience of singing for others, and she knew that amongst elves, singing came as naturally as breathing. Sainor had taught her some of their most popular songs just in case, but she hoped to avoid being put to the test.

All in all, the halfling ("or hobbit,"she correct herself mentally) turned out to be completely delightful. When they were done with his songs, they turned to the topic of his travels, and she spent the rest of the evening listening to stories about killing dragons and fighting alongside dwarves. The hobbit was so open and welcoming that it was impossible not to like him. At length he appeared to become weary, and she took her leave, but not before he made her promise that she would return to hear the rest of his stories the next day.

The next few days passed in a similar manner. In addition to her previous activities, she now added lunch every day with the hobbit. Occasionally they ate in the dining hall, but for the most part they found themselves in Bilbo's quarters, often eating outdoors on his balcony. This suited Líriel just fine. When she ate in the dining hall alone, she was forced to contend with the curious stares of everyone around her. Apart from the twins and Folwin, no one else seemed much interested in talking to her. People were unfailingly polite, but also reserved.

As each day went by, her liking of her acquaintances grew more and more. Elrohir and Elladan amused her greatly, and Folwin was always charming. Bilbo was simply a treasure. One day she caught herself referring to him mentally as a friend, and it was then she realised that things were going too far. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted from her mission. Her necklace kept her aware of that.

She spent her time in mounting frustration. At this point she had gained all the information she was likely to be able to gather, and she found herself at a loss. She had zero leads. Bilbo had not known anything about a Man living in Rivendell. She couldn't leave, yet staying was fraught with difficulties of its own. She resolved to spend less time talking to others. She couldn't learn anything more from them, anyway, and being attached to them would just make things complicated later on.

She just longed for something to happen that would get things moving.

Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long. One evening, Líriel arrived at the dining hall to find it a hive of activity. The place was buzzing. Beside Elrond at the high table sat an old man with a long, white beard. Líriel considered for a second if this could be the one she was searching for, but quickly dismissed it. He didn't look anything like a powerful warrior.

The elves in the hall seemed to be very interested in the arrival of this man, as heads turned often to look at him. As she walked past full tables, she heard snatches of conversation.

"- they say Saruman has turned traitor -"

"- even Glorfindel has joined the search -"

"- the Black Riders are abroad -"

At that last titbit, Líriel forced herself to suppress a shiver. The Nazgûl were one of the few things that held the power to scare her. She had absolutely no idea what they were doing near Rivendell, but in any case it meant that things were happening, which meant that she might be able to complete her mission soon. The thought brought with it a twinge of reluctance.

The twins were meant to meet her here, but she couldn't find them. In the end, she sat at an empty seat and as she did so, she caught the tail end of another sentence.

"- that's why Mithrandir is here."

She froze. Mithrandir is here? She looked up again at the man sitting next to Elrond. If Mithrandir was in Rivendell, then this old man must be him. That was a terrifying turn of events. She would rather face two Nazgûl at once than deal with an Istar. She had no idea if the tricks Sainor had taught her for cloaking her mind would work on a wizard. And she hoped she wouldn't have to find out.

The only solution was to maintain as low a profile as possible and hopefully escape his notice. Hurriedly, she got up and left the hall.

Could things possibly get any more difficult?

Thanks for reading. Please review!