He was empty now. The journey, the friendships he had forged, the enemies he felled, all of it was dust in the wind.
A breeze caressed the soft strands of his hair as he lifted his face to the sky, and remembered.
Bickering, acceptance, laughter, warmth, the blue of his eyes. A blue so deep and fathomless not even a wizard like Gandalf could ever fully comprehend it's entirety. But Bilbo almost had. Throughout this adventure Bilbo had been presented with more chances than anyone else ever had. He had been standing on the precipice of an opportunity, all Bilbo had to do was reach out and grasp that chance. Never letting go. Oh by the Valar he would never let go.
But he didn't. Instead of those blue eyes dulled further and further until all that was left was grey.
There was no going back now.
Those eyes would never be blue again.
Bilbo looked down at Thorin Oakenshield and smiled.
"It's time."
And then there was red.