"His father was Arathorn II." Elrond began. Agarwaen had found the elf later that evening, and asked him about the boy.

"Isildur's heir..." Agarwaen murmured to herself.

"Indeed. The men of Dúnedain were attacked nine years ago, and Arathorn was killed. Elladan and Elrohir brought Estel here to be fostered in my care as many of his ancestors have been."

"His name isn't Estel, is it?"

"It is not, but for the child's protection, his identity is kept a secret from most, even himself."

"Is he the only one? The last of his line?" Elrond gave her a look that confirmed the answer to be yes. "This information will not leave my lips outside of this room, you have my word." She promised.

"I trusted they will not before you even spoke so." Erond responded.

"Do you think he will claim his birthright?" She asked.

"Even I do not know. Though with Sauron festering in the east, he might have to."

"Yes, Gandalf has told me some of what's been going on. Do you think he will rise again?"

"The fact that I do not know worries me." He admitted. " If you return to the mountain, keep a watchful eye on the east. I would ask Thranduil, but he is too concerned with his own kingdom to worry about others."

"I will send word to you if I hear anything over there, yes. Has Gondor been warned?" Elrond stared at her through the corner of his eye.

"You worry greatly for something that you have not even lived long enough to understand." He said.

"I may not be as old as some elves, but I'm old enough to understand at least some of this. At least let me try and be prepared to help wherever I can."

"We know very little currently. Only that Sauron has not been fully defeated. The Lady Galadriel banished him to Mordor, so as long as he does not grow in power, we should be alright."

"But as long as he lives, Middle-earth is still in danger, is it not?"

"Fear not, Agarwaen. Whatever happens, we will be ready."

Agarwaen, Bilbo, and Gandalf spent another week and a half in Rivendell, enjoying the peace and safety while they could. Agarwaen caught up with the rest of her old friends, ran into Estel on several other occasions, and once was roped into a game of hide-and-seek. It had been hundreds of years since she'd done anything even remotely similar, and brought her a sense of happy nostalgia. She'd learned that Estel had just turned eleven, and that he was already quite skilled when it came to swordsmanship. His mother wasted no time in having him learn how to defend himself it would seem.

Gandalf usually spent his time alone doing whatever wizardly thing he had planned for the day. Bilbo however, spent much of his time with Agarwaen as she showed him the best places in Rivendell. Sometimes they talked to no end, and other times, they just walked together in content silence.

When Moriel finally met Bilbo, she insisted that he was the cutest thing she'd ever seen, and would not be quiet about her newfound love for little halflings with their fuzzy feet and perfectly curly hair. Bilbo found the situation quite humorous, as did everyone else.

At last, the day to leave finally came, and Bilbo found himself not wanting to leave, but knew that he had to get back home at some point. After saying goodbye to everyone, the three continued on their way.

"Hang on." Bilbo said one morning as they passed by the Trollshaws. He began looking around, recognizing the place where they stood.

"What is it, Bilbo?" Agarwaen asked.

"It is this way." Gandalf caught on to what Bilbo was looking for, and steered his horse to the south. When the brush in the forest became too thick, they tied their horses up and continued on foot. They all stopped however, when they stumbled across three mountain trolls, completely turned to stone.

"In case you were wondering what you missed before the company arrived in Rivendell." Bilbo said with a smile.

"You fought trolls?"

"Lost, too. They had us all tied up in bags and roasting on a spit right here." He walked to the middle of the three trolls where the remnants of a long forgotten fire pit stood.

"How did you escape?" She asked, looking around the small clearing.

"Gandalf saved us at the last second." The hobbit laughed. "After I had stalled the trolls by saying the dwarves were infested with worms."

"I'm sure the company wasn't pleased." Agarwaen laughed.

"No, they weren't. Not at all." He smiled. "Do you often go back to places you've visited to remember like this?"

"Sometimes. Other times, I'd rather forget or move on." She sighed. "This must have been quite the first encounter." She looked up at the massive trolls.

"Oh, it was. But at least we lived. We actually found my sword, along with Thorin's and Gandalf's here."

"Here?" Agarwaen asked. She knew that their swords were of elven make, dating back to the first age. Why were they here of all places?

"In the troll horde, yes." Bilbo nodded. "We buried a chest full of gold in there too." He added, sparking an idea. "I don't think any of the company will come back out this way...I see no point in keeping it buried any longer." He grinned slyly up at Agarwaen.

"It would make a nice souvenir, I agree." Agarwaen grinned back. "Lead the way, master burglar." She then followed him and Gandalf to the cave. It still smelled strongly, but Bilbo insisted that it was much, much worse last year.

There was no more treasure or gold lying about, likely taken by thieves, rangers or wanderers, for those were the most common type of people to find in the wilds. After a few minutes of walking in circles, Bilbo finally remembered where he'd seen Gloin bury it, and they set to work, finally digging up a chest. Bilbo opened it, satisfied to see that it was still brimming with coin.

"You could buy yourself enough food to last a lifetime with this." Agarwaen commented as they left the cave.

"I might have to. Remember how I told you the dwarves ate my pantry dry?" She nodded. "Well I was not joking, not one bit. And even if they hadn't, everything would be spoiled and rotten by now." Bilbo wrinkled his nose. "I do hope the place doesn't smell of mold. I-if you're going to be my guest for a night, I don't want the place to smell..."

"Bilbo, I'll only stay for a night if you really want me to, and even then, I do not mind what the state of your home is. I can only imagine it's perfectly comfortable and beautiful, the way you speak of it."

"Oh, well, it still doesn't matter. What kind of host would I be if the house was a smelly mess?" They walked back to their mounts and secured the chest on the back of Bilbo's pony. "I'll make for the market the second we're back. Good food is always one of the most important things when it comes to treating guests." The hobbit rambled, and Agarwaen shook her head. He was definitely excited to return home.

For the next two weeks, the trio rode through a forest and past rolling green hills after stopping in Bree for one night.

Spring had finally fully sprung, so the trees were a bright green and flowers bloomed everywhere they looked. Agarwaen found that the fresh western air--the scent of grass, dirt, and flowers--gave her a sense of comfort and homeliness. It made her long for a home she knew she could never have.