Disclaimer- I don't own Lord of the Rings.

I haven't done a LotR fanfic in Ages and Ages (geddit, I'm punny *gets shot*) but my rekindled love for Elrond has inspired this, very probably terrible, fanfiction. No pairings yet, alothugh there will probably be Elrond/Celebrian, I haven't decided. This is mostly Bilbo and Elrond friendship, although Elrond and Aragorn father/sonness will worn its way in. And Glorfindel, because he's cool.

Enjoy! :)

Bilbo Baggins was fifty-seven years old before he missed the Elves.

It had been about five years since he had last seen an elf, five years since he had seen a dwarf or a wizard or even a dragon. Five years since he had listened to the song of an elf-maiden in fair Rivendell. And that, Bilbo decided, had to end.

Without warning, with little preparation except to make sure the Sackville-Bagginses were never allowed near Bag-End whether or not he returned home, Bilbo packed his bag, which included provisions (plenty of them), a pipe and a fair amount of the Longbottom Leaf, an extra hood, and several extra handkerchiefs. He folded Sting under his breeches and was tempted to wear the mithril, but decided it gave him an unfair advantage. He left it home, but not on display. You could never be sure which relative would prowl around the house.

Lastly, Bilbo tucked the ring into his pocket. He wouldn't dream of leaving Hobbiton without a safety net. He was, after all, a Baggins.

However, it was the Took side that led him from his comfortable hole, with all its seed-cakes and warm fires, to visit the Elves.

One last time couldn't hurt.

Elrond Half-elven, Lord of Imladris, did not often think of hobbits. If there was one subject he was not an expert in, it was Hobbit-lore. This did not mean he did not enjoy the company of one. The Halflings had a way about them, making you feel as though you knew everything about them and yet they could still surprise you. Elrond liked to be surprised (when it was good; Saruman's betrayal was no example of a good surprise), for he had lived many years and seldom left the shelter of Rivendell in these late days, for without him, Rivendell would no longer be The Last Homely House West of the Mountains, and that title was one of Elrond's favorites.

His head rose a fraction as he felt someone pass the barrier into his lands. He smiled slightly, taking his mind off a variety of things to focus on one of many subjects that had been whirling around in his brain.

He rose from his seat, his robes draping themselves over him as he walked. He opened the door, smacking it into someone on the other side.

Elrond stifled a laugh as he heard a melodic voice curse. Which unfortunate elf had he managed to hit today? He peered around the door, and his attempt to hide his laughter became ever more difficult.

"Good morning, Glorfindel," he said pleasantly. "I didn't know you were near my chambers."

Glorfindel rubbed at a spot on his forehead. "I would hope not. This act is cruel enough without malicious intent."

Elrond sighed. "Let us drop these regal pretenses. Even elves such as ourselves wish to walk among the flowers, do we not?"

"You speak in riddles so early in the morning. I was only complaining about the door, nothing more," smirked Glorfindel. "But nonetheless, it seems we have company. The elves are already composing songs to amuse themselves as Bilbo walks down into the valley."

Elrond started walking down the corridor, Glorfindel at his side. "Yes, it gladdens me that our people are so light-hearted. If all beings in Middle-Earth were as such, it would be a happier place."

"You are in a morose mood of late. If all beings in Middle-Earth were as elves, it would be far less interesting. You dwell too deep in your dreams, Elrond Half-elven. I bid you to wake." Glorfindel's voice was kindly, but spoke with the authority of a being who could talk on equal level with Elrond.

Elrond did not reply, but walked all the way to the entrance of the front hall and flung the doors open wide. He had scarcely the time to breath fresh air and smell the lilies before a small curly head rammed into his stomach.

"It is an auspicious day for you, Elrond," chuckled Glorfindel. "Already you have injured two with the opening of doors, and it is not yet noon."

The curly head sighed. "No, it is not, but I have had precious few lunches in the last few days."

"I can take a hint," said Elrond. "Come with me, and we shall set up a meal. Would you consider this a second breakfast or a first luncheon?"

"Neither," replied the head. "Us hobbits would call it our after-breakfast morsel. You elves really do know so little."

Elrond bent down so he could be level with the hobbit's face. It was round, although not plump, not from weeks of journeying. His eyes were bright and his smile was sincere, and that was all Elrond needed to see to invite him in. Elrond could not say that he tired of his fellow elves, but that did not mean it wasn't nice to see a face so different. "What a surprise, Bilbo. It is good to see you."

Bilbo thrust something in Elrond's face, and Elrond registered mud and dirt before he realized what it was.

"Your handkerchief," said Bilbo breathlessly. "I borrowed it nigh on five years ago. I thought it was time I brought it back."

"I thank you," replied Elrond, slightly touched. "But you did not need to bring me my handkerchief to need a reason to visit me, dear Mr. Baggins. I welcome you into my halls at any time, Elf-friend."

It was Bilbo's turn to be touched. "That's very kind of you. But at the moment I would give nearly anything I own for a good meal."

Glorfindel couldn't help but add, "A hobbit does not forget the important things as we do. I think we should get this hobbit to his meal."

And so, the two elves flanked the hobbit as they walked, their steps light.

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