HALF ELVEN
Written for the 2005 birthday of Febobe (Frodo Baggins of Bag End)
Finally, someone besides Frodo needs a bit of recuperation...

“Well?” Frodo asked as soon as Aragorn exited the sickroom.

Aragorn smiled down at the hobbit.  “No visitors yet,” he said firmly.  “He needs rest.”

“Good heavens, Aragorn, it’s just a cold,” Frodo said in exasperation.  “The way everyone is tip-toeing around and looking grim, you’d think the Third Age was ending.”

“The Third Age is ending, you impertinent hobbit,” Aragorn chuckled.  “But you have to remember that Lord Elrond hasn’t been amongst this many mortals since... well, I have no idea.  He apparently picked up a small illness from someone in Minas Tirith.  In a way, half-Elven also means part-mortal.”

“But I just thought I could--”

“You can’t visit with him yet,” the King repeated.  “You’re still recovering from your ordeals, and I won’t have you catching anything.”

“He must be awfully bored,” Frodo fretted.

“On the contrary, having a cold is no doubt quite intriguing for an Elf.  Someone as long-lived as Lord Elrond no doubt believed that he would never encounter such new and fascinating experiences ever again.”

“New and fascinating experiences?  Like what?” Frodo asked, puzzled.

Suddenly, from the sickroom, came a thunderous sneeze, followed by an awed “My goodness!”

“Like that,” Aragorn grinned.