Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Note: You know how you're really excited that it's only a few weeks to Elf-fighting eye-candy and you have to write a little ficlet to let off some steam? That.

This is meant as a sort of follow-up to A Hobbit and an Elf, though you don't have to have read that for it to make sense.

Summary: One evening in Imladris, shortly before the Quest begins, Bilbo Baggins worries about what lies ahead.

A World without the Ring

Bilbo Baggins stood on the balcony, looking out over the columns and gardens and fountains of Elrond's haven by the Bruinen, and feeling oddly lonely.

There was no reason for him to be lonely. He had spent the past weeks renewing old acquaintances and delighting in the company of friends. There had been music and laughter in the Hall of Fire and long evenings talking with Frodo, and sometimes with Sam and Merry and Pippin, of what lay in the mysterious lands to the east.

Bilbo was proud of Frodo. Adventure had come for them both, adventure and doom. Bilbo had followed the road and made his choices, and while he was not entirely pleased with some of them, on the whole he felt he had done well. Frodo, he believed, would do better.

If there was anybody who could succeed in this Quest, who could take the Ring that had been Bilbo's comfort and torment for sixty years and cast it into the fiery chasm of its making, it was Frodo. Bilbo knew that without doubt. Gandalf believed that there had been another power than that of the Enemy at work when the Ring had found its way into Bilbo's scrabbling fingers. Gandalf believed Frodo was meant to have the Ring.

It was not for Bilbo to question the Wizard.

All the same, he worried.

The sound of Elven laughter distracted him. It was light and carefree, and most unlike any sound he had heard in Rivendell of late. The Elves of Elrond's household went about with serious expressions all the time now. At first he had thought they were concerned about the Ring, but now he realized it was more than that. They were preparing to say good-bye. The Eldar were leaving Middle-earth. He had known that; he had seen the parties leaving Rivendell, or passing through it on their way to the Grey Havens from Mirkwood or Lothlórien.

He had known… And yet he had not known.

A day would dawn, perhaps not in Bilbo's lifetime, but soon, as he had learnt to reckon the years in Rivendell, when the halls of Elrond would be bare and silent, when the Elven-king would no longer wear his crown of spring blossoms under the beeches of Greenwood, when one might walk through the countryside for weeks without hoping to hear the music of travelling Elves singing to the stars.

The thought would have filled him with melancholy, but the sound of laughter was still in the air and made it impossible to grieve.

Bilbo leaned over the parapet as far as he safely could, and caught sight of three figures walking through the twilight on the path below. The setting sun shone on the bright hair of the one in the middle, and he was struck by the memory of another time, when he himself had been another Hobbit, innocent and young and not yet truly touched by the power of the Ring.

"Legolas!" he called.

His voice did not carry far – his lungs were not what they had been – but Legolas and the sons of Elrond heard and looked up at him.

"Master Hobbit," Legolas said, smiling. "I was sorry I could not speak to you after the Council of Elrond."

"I would speak to you now," Bilbo said. "Will you wait? I will come down."

"There is no need," said Legolas. "I will come to you."

That was what Bilbo had hoped for; his bones ached with tiredness and age and he had no wish to walk down the sweeping flight of stairs. He stood back, watching as Legolas leapt easily into a tree and ran along one of its branches to vault onto the balcony.

"You look troubled, Master Hobbit."

"And you do not. Lord Elrond said you were going to be one of the Nine Walkers… for the Elves."

"I have made my choice. Time will tell whether it is for good or ill. Nothing can be gained by worrying about it."

"What does the Elven-king say to that?"

Legolas laughed. "He is not entirely pleased, but he will not prevent me from doing my duty." He paused, expression growing more serious, before he went on, "The Enemy is the same, Master Baggins, and I have pledged my life to fight him."

"How far do you intend to go? Frodo said you might not travel the entire distance."

"That I cannot say. I will cross the mountains with Master Frodo, and keep him company as long as I may. But if the Shadow grows stronger in Dol Guldur, it may be that my place is with my Elven-lord."

"I hope it will not come to that, and not just because I would be sorry to see the Enemy's darkness touch the halls of the Elven-king. If only one of the fair folk is to go with Frodo, I am glad it is you."

Legolas' smile was half-teasing and half-rueful. "You might think differently if we are called into battle. The Elves of Master Elrond's household are valiant."

Bilbo scoffed. "I daresay some of them have seen more battle than you have – Master Elrond and Lord Glorfindel, for instance. But I have seen you fight – and I have seen you with your bow. I have no doubt Frodo will be grateful for the steady hand of Legolas. That was not what I meant, though. Lord Glorfindel is a noble warrior, no doubt, but it is many Ages since he has fought to defend his home – or his father's realm. This is no longer his fight. His soul hears the song of his kindred across the Sundering Sea."

"Mithrandir always did say Halflings can surprise you." Legolas sat on one of the carved marble benches, inviting Bilbo to do the same. "Lord Glorfindel will not linger in Middle-earth much longer. The Elven-home calls to him, as it does many of my kin. I did not know mortals could tell."

Bilbo shrugged. "I have dwelt in Imladris – seventeen years is a mere blink to you, I daresay, but it is a long time for a Hobbit. And I have breathed truly free air for the first time since I put the Ring on my finger in the depths of Gollum's tunnels." He let out a breath. "How your father must hate me!"

"Hate you? Why should he?"

"He named me Elf-friend, and I had brought the weapon of the Enemy into his halls and used it to help his prisoners escape. And now you go on a perilous quest for the sake of the Ring."

"My King would not quarrel with you because I do my duty. And nobody blames you for the Ring. Mithrandir said it wanted to be found. If not you, it might have chosen another bearer – an Orc, perhaps, or one of the Nine – one who would have delivered it straight into the Enemy's hands." Legolas looked up as the stars began to come out. "I do not regret what I must do, Master Baggins. For years beyond your reckoning I have fought to keep the darkness at bay. I would have done it for as many years more if there had been need, but now that we have a chance of ending Sauron's power, I will not pretend I am sorry."

"Do you ever want it? The One Ring?" Bilbo was uncertain if the question would offend Legolas, but he had to ask. "Sometimes… Sometimes when I think of the Ring, I feel like I must have it, take it and hide it, keep it forever. I feel like the world has no meaning if it is not mine. Gandalf fears to touch it for more than a few seconds. Boromir wants it. I know he does. I have seen it in his eyes. He wants to use it to save Gondor."

"I know Lord Boromir not at all, and I cannot pretend to understand the minds of those your folk call Wizards. But for myself…" Legolas shook his head. "I would not trust myself with it. That much I can tell you. If it were in my hands and its song were in my heart, I do not know if I would have the strength or the will to refuse, knowing how easily I could use it to end all the dark creatures that threaten the Woodland Realm. But it is in Frodo's keeping, and I feel no urge to take it from him. I have not touched it, and it has not touched me."

"I wonder what that's like. Not wanting the Ring. Not caring about it." Bilbo stared moodily at the nearest statue, a marble Elf-maid holding a harp.

"If Frodo succeeds in his quest, I trust you will know." Legolas smiled at him, a smile that seemed to hold the promise of a happier future. "You alone of all who have ever possessed it have given up the Ring, Master Baggins. I trust your heart and your courage. You will know what it is not to have the weapon of the Enemy weighing on your soul."

Somehow, hearing Legolas speak the words made Bilbo believe them. "A world without the Ring." He answered the Elf's smile with one of his own. "I believe I would like that."

THE END

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