AN: This is my first time writing fanfiction for any Tolkien work. Please do not think of this as a revision, but more of an expansion. I realize that homosexuality was never addressed, and I didn't want it to beat you over the head, but be subtle and meaningful with hints near the end. This is a mixture of the book and movieverse, I do realize that I used direct quotes, and they are in italics, but I tried to not rely too heavily on them. Videos that inspired this story are any Bagginshield by LilianHearts, 00shelly77, and RockSashka13.
The frigid clutches of the ice covered stairs deterred Bilbo Baggins little from racing to the prone figure of Thorin Oakenshield with all his might. Out of all of the bodies stitching the battlefield in to a tapestry of great tragedy only the King Under the Mountain drew his attention. Any other being would find it a perilous journey to cross the frozen space but a Hobbit's feet always held true. Azog lay slain across from Thorin, their weapons both shattered and cracked, never to see another battle again, just like their masters. Bilbo had always been an even tempered fellow with little room in his heart for odium, but a curtain of seething coals fell on his downtrodden heart. It took much self control to continue the journey to Thorin and not rain down vengeance on the wicked being.
Knowing that this would be the likely last moments to spend with his friend while he drew breath, he chose to not waste the precious time on giving in to anger. He arrived at Thorin's side and took inventory. Thorin had cast his crown aside as he rejected the Dragon's Sickness, and resumed his place as leader of the Company and companion to all who came with him. Soot and grime peppered Thorin's face in little pockets. His hair lay spayed outward like another more chaotic and primal crown of of sable strands. Red ribbons of wounds found residence in every part of his body bearing skin. The only gash Bilbo gave care to was the one marking the left abdomen of Thorin son of Thráin son of Thrór. It was the culprit for his friend's impending slumber. Thorin's eyes already told of his strength dwindling like sand from a cloven hourglass. Time truly was running out.
Bilbo sank to his knees immune to the wintry embrace befalling them and worked to cradle Thorin's head in his arms. Careful not to rattle the head of Oakenshield, he measured his movements carefully to cushion Thorin, but move him high enough for Bilbo see directly into his eyes. Thorin's breathing was labored, and every puff of moisture signaled great struggle.
He ventured to break the delicate silence, "My friend, we appear to be in dire straits indeed! I would have wagered my 1/13 of the gold that our places would be switched! But do not despair, hope is not lost. Gandalf and the Eagles will know what to do! Rest easy for now."
Thorin struggled to focus his failing sight on the Hobbit. He felt blessed at the opportunity to glance upon his kind and genuine face one last time.
"My dear Baggins, I do believe you are right. I would have wished for this enterprise to turn out differently. I long yearned to return to Erebor and restore my home, and I would like to think that I have accomplished. A shadow of melancholy has settled upon my soul for I lost my head at the exact moment I needed it most. I abandoned those who meant the most to me for all of the riches Under the Mountain, but I failed to realize I had swaths of treasure only an arm's length away. I will now never have the opportunity to see my home rebuilt and bustling once again with my kin, or Fíli assume the throne, and Kíli support him ardently as advisor and confidant, for they have both now passed. I ache for their loss, but most of all I regret how I treated you at the end."
Gentle yet profound tear drops leaked from Bilbo's eyes and ran down his cheeks slowly as if suspended in motion. The light was running low, all fuel almost spent, and poor Bilbo was futilely trying to prolong this time with Thorin.
"Nay my friend! Perish that notion of remorse for there is nothing to apologize for! You can spend many a year making it up to me if you feel so inclined, the studded stars of destiny have not descended on us yet with their brilliant commands. Do not give up King Under the Mountain, I will not let you!"
Thorin indulged in a final laugh, and within its depths lay pockets of mirth and experiences that would never come to pass. The fallen dwarf desired to release all of the humor he had left to make up for all of the merriment in which he would not join.
"Mr. Baggins, your optimism is admirable to the last, but I beg do not blind yourself to the coming night for it is beautiful and magnificent in its own right, regardless of the departures it brings about. The bright day does now yield to the dark as does my I. Farewell good thief, I must go now the halls of waiting to sit beside my father until the world is renewed. I wish to part from you in friendship, and I would take back my words on the Gate. The line of Durin is not immune to greed or distrust and for that I am sorry my dear Bilbo. It has been quite an unexpected and dangerous road that brought us here, but not altogether good and devoid of joy. Thumb your nose if you must, Bilbo of Hobbiton, but with your entrance into my life, a new sense of purpose and wholeness has plundered my being. My heart which was once shrunken and bruised with bitterness has now expanded and healed somewhat to make room for a dear Hobbit. I mourn the opportunity to adorn you in more finery than just that vest of mithril, but alas! It will be my parting gift to you. May you never find yourself in need of it again, but when the day is long in the tooth and you find yourself in a nostalgic mood, may you put in on again in remembrance, and look upon it with affection to the foolish king who proved unable to appreciate the true riches he was beholden to."
A great sorrow plunged into Bilbo like the precise strike of a blade. For the first time, Bilbo began to feel cold. The blade might as well have been an icicle for the frost it etched into his body, rapidly leeching away Biblo's naïve hope.
"Don't say that dear Thorin, I cannot stand to hear it! You have changed me as well. I have become an adventurer. How about that! The first Baggins to brave the outside world, penetrating the serene barrier that shields the Shire. You have brought new meaning to the world family and shown me a treacherous, yet wonderful new existence. I beg of you, do not slip away, for if you do, I fear the Hobbit you have awakened will once again hibernate and remain dormant till the end of my days."
"Despair not Bilbo, for the memories of our Company to the Lonely Mountain will sustain you always, I have no doubt. My dear Bilbo." Thorin heaved a heavy and morose sigh.
Indeed, the fingers of obsidian were once again claiming the world as its own. The sun had taken refuge in the East.
"This is a bitter adventure, if it must end so; and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet I am glad that I have shared in your perils-that has been more than any Baggins deserves."
"No! There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song about hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad, or merry, I must leave it now. My duty now lies in journeying to the halls with my nephew, I cannot abandon my dear Hobbit, until we meet again. Skilfz dorzada."
Thorin drew one final inhale pleased to smell the scent of the Lonely Mountain once more, he turned over with eyes shut for eternity and laid Khudzul Bilbo knew little of the Dwarvish language, and even less of how and in what situations it would be used, but some unexplained inkling translated the final phrase for Bilbo to understand: "my love."
Bilbo's heart grew heavy and struggled to beat with the vigor it grew accustomed to in his copious encounters with near death. There was only one thing left to say until he would collapse into a fit of weeping, "Rest easy Skilfz dorzada."
For 60 years Bilbo toiled with the ghost of one Thorin son of Thrain son of Thrór. The ring which he kept hidden in his pocket not only delayed any visible deterioration of the body, but also perfectly preserved his mind from the day he first came to bear it. Initially Bilbo tried to honor Thorin's wish and decorate himself in the armor of a lost Elven noble, but the grief would always overcome him.
Bilbo finally decided to donate it to the museum for he didn't want it for himself, but such magnificence didn't deserve to remain locked away to gather dust and its strength grow stale.
The addition of Frodo alleviated Bilbo's loneliness immensely, and he was always a willing and welcoming host to all former Company members who graced his hobbit hole, but nothing would quite be the same as it once was.
When Bilbo had reached the age of 111, he decided that one last romp would be a fitting end of days. In order to leave, he had to part with his beloved nephew, and relinquish his ownership of that curious ring, but he comforted himself in the belief that he had raised Frodo with all the love he had in within him. Once the ring left Bilbo's possession for the first time in decades, he was now free to live on his own terms, as capricious as they may be. Now was his chance to become an adventurer once more.
He hadn't quite a fixed itinerary or location, but Bilbo thought a good start would be to grace the dirt path studded with islands of green grass, where his journey had begun with Thorin Oakenshield and his 12 other dear friends.
If the old Baggins closed his eyes he could almost manufacture the notion that he was once again traveling with the Company of Old. Enthusiasm and anticipation rang through his veins. An adventure! Oh imagine that after so many years!
Near the end of Bilbo's preparations, he found himself compelled to revisit the vest of mithril once again, if to not witness the parting gift of the King Under the Mountain for one final time, but be it wishful thinking or an obstinate clinging to the past, Bilbo simply had to bring it along once again for an expedition into the unknown.
Bilbo secretly draped the mesh of silver cascades and shining pearls and jewels upon his aged frame to brave what ever he would come to face. For once, dressing in the finery of Erebor was not a painful, but a peaceful and warming occasion.
Gandalf saw the elder Baggins off when he said goodbye to his hobbit hole, and he was in better spirits than he had been seen for a long time. Gandalf bid him farewell and to take care.
"Take care! I don't care! Don't you worry about me! I am as happy now as I have ever been, and that is saying a great deal. But the time has come. I am being swept off of my feet at last.
Gandalf watched Biblo cross the threshold of his tea, stories by the fire, and afternoon naps in arm chairs and entered once again into the vast promises and secrets yet to to be revealed by the world. Gandalf fervently wished that Bilbo find his well-deserved peace. He heard Bilbo utter one more thing as he walked further away with his dwarvish companions:
"I am coming, skilfz dorzada, my love."
AN: I tried to stay true to character as best as I could but still take creative license. Please do not kill me if I messed any lore up. I love Tolkien and Middle Earth, but I am new to it. If you liked this, I will be starting and EowynxAragorn 20,000 ish word multichapter. Thanks!