HOME SWEET HOME
Gimli the Dwarf stood within his own hometown of Erebor, standing in awe as buildings were finally being rebuilt after the War of the Ring ended. Though his eyes still hurt from the torture he had endured from Agandaur and his sorcerors, they were well enough for him to see the former splender and beauty it once had. He remembered his father telling him tales of the quest to reclaim Erebor from the Dragon Smaug and the Battle of the Five Armies. He watched as fellow Dwarves around him were busily walking through as though they're finally attempting to move on from the horrors of which Smaug and the War has wrought.
Legolas the Elf was standing beside him. "Not easy finally being home, is it?"
The Dwarf sighed. "Well, it does take a long time to get over the anger and hate, laddie. But I suppose we'll just have to take it one day at a time. It could last for the rest of our miserable lives for all we know."
The Elf raised an eyebrow. "Miserable?"
Gimli shrugged. "Eh, who knows? We've been fighting for so long we...may almost forget what's like to be free. But you know maybe Mr. Bilbo Baggins would like to revisit here, em?"
"It's been nearly sixty-five years ago," Legolas replied, "and I think some Hobbits would enjoy Mirkwood a bit more."
"Oh please, your homeland was scarier as is," Gimli brushed the comment off. "Erebor is much more suitable. No wolves or spiders roaming all over the place! It's so bad the Hobbits would be scared off their clothes! Even Bilbo wouldn't want to revisit Mirkwood."
Legolas stood in momentary silence. "Wanna bet?"
"On millions and millions of gold!" Gimli laughed.
"I think you're deluding yourself."
"Oh, am I?"
In Hobbiton...
Frodo Baggins has just arrived home when he discovers Peregrin Took sleeping near his fireplace.
"Pippin? How long have you been sleeping here?" the former ring-bearer asked.
"Since last night," Pippin meekly answered through a yawn. "I'm kinda surprised you haven't noticed then." He coughed afterwards. "I'll just add with the fact that I'm been having this cold all this week and I don't feel like walking back to Tuckborough. It's cold out."
"Well, just don't get me sick," Frodo said as he hurried to the study to check the calender.
Pippin smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"Pippin, what's today?" Frodo asked.
"April 26th. Why?"
The night the Dwarves stumbled into Bag End, Frodo thought as he remembered Bilbo's tale of how he got wound up on the Dwarves' quest to reclaim Erebor. And speaking of Erebor...
"I don't suppose Gimli would stay at the Lonely Mountain to rebuild it," Frodo said.
"How are his eyes doing?" Pippin asked.
"Why don't you ask him yourself?"
Pippin shrugged. "I might. I think Legolas is with him as well."
"And they didn't invite us," Frodo fumed.
"I'm sure we'll give them a word or two," Pippin said before another cough followed. "But right now I'm just too sick to really do anything."
"That's because you've been up in the trees even when it's cold," Frodo said.
"Really? When did I do that?"
"We really need to plan a visit for both Mirkwood and Erebor. I don't care if they invite us or not, but I think it would mean well for the both of them."