Some nights Bilbo settled to sat front of his door, his eyes on the green hills and a road that leads away.
Sometimes when the moon was full and the sky clear and the stars were bright and the birds quiet down, he could hear it.
That song.
How the winds carried it far away from the East, passing him when drifting toward the sea.
He could feel his touch in it and hear his voice, that strong longing voice what calmed his heart for a while.
It brought strength to wait, and not to leave when the will to see was almost too strong.
For a moment, he would smile again and breathe, to believe and he would forget all those terrible times and focus only the happiness.
And he would sit there until the morning sun, dreaming that he will come someday.
.
.
.
.
#
No beta, and English isn't my language so I know there is mistakes