Bilbo was dreaming. He knew he was. But... it felt so real. It had been years since he had returned from his quest. In fact, his 111th birthday was the very next eve. And so, he turned in his bed, mind deep in his dream.
He was in his Hobbit Hole. It was dark out, the stars sparkling in the night sky. Sparks flew from the chimney as he gently flipped his supper on a frying pan and looked up at the sound of knocking. He remembered that sound.
Dropping his plate on the floor in a clatter, he scurried to the floor, tying his rope tight around his waist. He flung the door open, knocking a lamp to the floor. "DWALIN!" he cried, eyes lighting up at the sight of his old friend. "YOU CAME!"
"I-" muttered the bewildered Dwalin. "How?"
"COME IN!" laughed Bilbo. "There is supper in the kitchen!" Dwalin, never to turn down a meal, cast aside his confusion and hurried to the kitchen.
Bilbo rocked back and forth on his heels, excited, and waited for the next dwarf to arrive. It was only a moment before Balin knocked softly on the door. Bilbo cheered and welcomed him in, watching fondly as his old friend settled down at the table. Then, Bilbo paused.
He knew who was coming next. Fili and Kili. He didn't know what to do. They had been dead for so long, slayed in the battle. So, so long before he had seen their bright eyes and mischevious smiles. So..long...
Ratta-tat-tat
Bilbo swallowed and reached for the door handle.
He opened the door with a creak.
"Fili."
"And Kili"
Then, together, "At your service." Bilbo gulped.
Kili beamed and his eyes brightened as Fili grinned beside him. "You must be Mr. Boggins!" he boomed.
"Y-yes." said Bilbo, wiping away a tear. "Yes, I suppose I am."