The soft swishing of the waves and the cries of the gulls punctuated the morning as Frodo and the Lady Celebrian strolled upon the sand. Both of them were barefoot, and the hem of her gown and the cuffs of his breeches were soaked with the salt water. The breezes played with her pale tresses and his dark curls, and the tang of the ocean was in the air.

The two often walked without speaking, but Celebrian knew her small friend's moods. "What troubles you, Frodo?"

"It's Bilbo. I'm worried. He sleeps so much now, but when he is awake, he is not truly present." 

"He is very ancient for one of your kind, my friend."

"He was that before we arrived here, and has lived far longer now than any hobbit in history. I think he is longing now for that last and most mysterious of adventures." 

"That grieves you."

"I'll miss him dreadfully. But I have no doubt that we'll be reunited. I fear that he only lingers for my sake. I don't wish to tie him down, yet I don't know what to say." Frodo stopped walking and gazed out over the sea. "We parted once before, long ago, and I still remember my heartache as I saw him vanish. Yet I knew it was what was best for him and I found the strength to let him go with my blessing. But this is different, it's no mere jaunt. How can I possibly tell him that it is all right with me if he dies? The words seem wrong for what I feel." 

"Do not fear to speak to him. He knows your heart better than anyone else. He will not mistake your blessing for callousness."

Frodo drew a deep breath. "You are right, my lady."