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Perfect for Storytelling

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Several days into their stay at Rivendell, Bilbo left the Dwarves just after breakfast and walked through one of the many gardens. It nearly overflowed with flowers of all kinds—bright red snapdragons, pale lilies, forget-me-nots the color of the summer sky, golden laburnums, and many others Bilbo could not name. Butterflies flitted lazily from blossom to blossom, and honey bees were busy as could be. He came upon a small pond lined with cattails taller than he was, where tiny green frogs peeped among waterlilies and jewel-bright dragonflies skimmed along the water. Occasionally a fish could be seen darting just below the water's surface.

Bilbo sat by the water on the soft grass and sighed, closing his eyes to simply bask for a bit in the sunshine. What a marvelous place! In that moment he was prepared to declare all discomforts thus far—even the business with the trolls—worth it, to stay for a while in this sunny valley.

A patter of footsteps on the garden path had Bilbo opening his eyes again. He blinked in astonishment as a child came running around the bend, dodging a low-hanging flowering tree branch. He had dark hair that curled slightly at his chin, and grey eyes alight with humor; his clothes were slightly too small, and frayed at the hems, and with grass stains on the knees—Bilbo himself had worn a similar set as a child for outside play, and the thought that elven mothers were as fussy as hobbit ones made him smile.

The child halted upon seeing Bilbo. "Hello!" he said. "Are you the halfling that came with the Dwarves the other evening?"

Bilbo got to his feet and bowed. "I am indeed. Bilbo Baggins, at your service!"

"Estel Gilraen's son, at yours!" replied the boy with a very proper bow of his own, although the effect was slightly ruined by the way he kept staring at Bilbo. He caught himself, cheeks turning pink, though his smile never left his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "I've never seen a halfling before."

"Well, I've never seen an elf child before," said Bilbo.

Estel laughed. "I'm not an elf child! I am a child of Men!"

"Oh! I do beg your pardon, my lad. I thought only Elves lived here."

"Mostly they do," Estel said, "except for my mother and me." He joined Bilbo beside the pond, and they sat down together on the grass. "Are you really a burglar?" he asked. "I heard Lindir laughing about it yesterday."

"Well," Bilbo said, "I suppose I am. Not a very good one yet, but I've made a start. Of course, it would have gone better if the troll hadn't had an enchanted wallet…"
The idea of an enchanted purse earned him Estel's full, wide-eyed attention, and Bilbo found himself recounting the episode—and enjoying himself a great deal, in spite of how awful it had been at the time. Estel certainly enjoyed it, being an adventurous young boy.

They stayed a fortnight in Rivendell, or perhaps a little longer—it was difficult to gauge the passage of time in that valley. Bilbo spent many of those days in the company of Estel, who was eager to know all about hobbits and the Shire, and who was also very happy to show him some of the nicest parts of the valley. In the evenings Bilbo sat enthralled in the Hall of Fire, listening to tales of the Elder Days—of Gondolin and Nargothrond, and Fingolfin and Fëanor and Túrin Turambar, and the great quest of Beren and Lúthien. He'd never heard such stories before, and he thought he could have stayed there forever, just listening.

"I hope you will visit again after your quest is done," Estel said a day or so before Bilbo and the Dwarves were set to leave. "And you can tell me all about it."
"Oh, certainly," said Bilbo. "We'll have a nice visit before I go back home."

"One day I shall be grown," Estel said dreamily, "and I will go one adventures myself. I'll hunt orcs and trolls and monsters—like Beren!"

"And will you marry and elf princess too?" Bilbo asked with a chuckle.

Estel looked thoughtful for a moment, before shaking his head. "I do not think there are any elf princesses anymore," he said.

"Ah well. At any rate, you can come visit me in the Shire, and tell me all about the monsters you slay. You'll have to crouch, though," Bilbo added, looking Estel up and down. At ten years old he was taller than Bilbo was, and certain to grow a great deal more.

"I would like that very much!"