"You loved him, didn't you?" Frodo had never understood Bilbo's reluctance to marry. Never understood how someone so fearless and passionate (by Hobbit standards) had never found love. But here, now, in Rivendell, he finally does. Because Frodo's had his adventure, been to the edge of the world and back with Samwise Gamgee and all Sam can talk about is getting home to Rosie Cotton. His heart aches, but at least Frodo has that. Bilbo's love died many years ago. An impossible Dwarven king. But such things are for our hearts to decide, not our heads. That much, Frodo has learned.

Bilbo gives him a sweet smile and nods.

It explains so much. The countless nights spent pouring over old maps, treasure hidden away, never to be looked at or sold.

"And he loved you?"

The smile is different this time. Brighter, with a little good-humoured mocking, and perhaps a touch of trepidation.

"I think, in the end, he figured it out."

Now what Frodo struggles to understand is how Bilbo lived the life he did. The uncle of his childhood memories is a jolly and caring hobbit. One who never neglected to remind him how much he was loved.

Frodo thinks if it were him and Sam were dead, he might have been too frightened to care again.

"Then how? How do you live with it?"

"Because Frodo my lad, he is waiting."

"Waiting?"

"In Valinor." Bilbo says it wistfully. Frodo realises he's been waiting his whole long life for this.

"You are taking the ship then?"

"It's the only thing left to do."

A thought is born in Frodo. He could take this ship too. To a place where he won't miss Sam.

And he'd like to meet this dwarf of Bilbo's.

"Uncle, do you think perhaps I could come too?"

"I'm sure you could, if you're certain it's what you want."

"It is." It's better than staying here and being a shadow in Sam's life. They've had their adventure, but it's done now. Sam has made his choice. It's time to let go.

xxx

Frodo stays long enough to see Sam settled. Happy, and with everything he ever wanted, (which isn't him). Sam's contentment is the best and worst thing Frodo has ever seen.

xxx

Saying goodbye to his three dearest friends is easier than he thought it would be. They cry, but he doesn't. His tears have already been shed. On lonely nights and in faraway lands. The promise of peace is before him now.

xxx

There is a point in the journey when weariness slips off and age begins to turn. Youth is the reward of patience on this voyage. Even Frodo feels the positive effects. His Morgul wound ceases to bother him, his melancholy disappears. Bilbo is the hobbit of his earliest memories once more.

"Bilbo? Did you not think about sailing earlier?" Frodo asks one twilight aboard the ship. Mostly just to pass the time.

"And where would you be if I had?" Bilbo answers with an easy smile. "Fate has her patterns weaved, Frodo."

Suddenly the conversation his enthralling. Frodo cannot stop his enquiring mind ticking over.

With someone other than Bilbo is the answer.

If the King Under the Mountain had won his throne Bilbo would never have left Erebor.

"He died so you'd come home." Bilbo smiles in acknowledgement of Frodo's astute observation.

"And the Ring with me."

xxx

Thorin is exactly as Bilbo remembers and yet he is completely different. He is waiting when the ship docks. Physically he looks the same but the weight of his burdens has been lifted. There's a peacefulness in him that Bilbo has never seen. It suits him. Bilbo doesn't rush, there is no need in a place without time. At the end of the gangway Thorin reaches up and lifts Bilbo down. He pulls him into a warm embrace. They kiss, something they never did in mortal life but something that feels more natural than breathing now. And Bilbo knows, finally he has come home.

xxx

Bilbo and Thorin's happiness is as his own. It sustains Frodo, to see them together. It is enough. But then, this is Valinor. A soft breeze through the leaves or a dew droplet on a silken flower petal is enough.

xxx

Beyond the Grey Havens in the Shire, of which no thoughts reach Frodo, life is lived. The Shire is rebuilt and prospers under Sam's careful guidance. It is a happy and bountiful place to live. All the food, ale and pipeweed a hobbit could dream of. Merry gatherings and beautiful songs and a tale of bravery and friendship that is told over and over again. Sam's many children continue his fine work.

xxx

Bilbo has something to tell him. "Rosie Cotton has passed away." The name is familiar but Frodo can't quite place it. It's from a time and place long ago. "She was Sam's wife." Sam. Frodo remembers that name. His companion from long ago on the other side of the sea. They'd saved the world together. Frodo has no idea how many years ago that was.

"She will wait here for him?"

Bilbo shakes his head. Brown curls bobbing around his face.

"Valinor is not for everyone," Bilbo explains. "It is for the Elves. And for Elf-friends. Great warriors, or those who did great deeds. The rest go home to Iluvatar."

Bilbo's words are important. Frodo's been waiting an eternity to hear them. For the first time since he sailed his heart skips a beat.

"When the time comes, will Sam?"

Bilbo shakes his head again. "He is a Ring-bearer."

xxx

Sam does not arrive on a ship. His hair is white and his skin is withered, but his eyes are the same. They look at Frodo with an adoration of times gone by.

xxx

There are gardens in Valinor and Sam is a gardener. His straightforward manner, generosity and empathy for things that grow, earn him favour with Yavanna. His youth and vitality bloom with the flowers he lovingly tends for her.

xxx

Merry and Pippin never arrive. They were not great warriors, kings, or Ring-bearers. They were hobbits. Sweet and simple, loyal and kind. Untouched by the dark burden.

Frodo does not know where they went. What he does know is that wherever it was, they are together.

xxx

It's a warm afternoon in Spring. The trees burst with colourful blooms and the grass is soft beneath them.

"Were you happy?"

"Perfectly, save for one thing." Frodo waits patiently for Sam to go on. Sam's eyes shine when he does. "You sailed away forever." Sam fiddles with the hem of his vest. "It was me, wasn't it? The reason why you left. Was it the Ring? Could you not forgive me for taking it?" Only Sam could ask such a question in Valinor. Frodo smiles and pulls Sam close, burying his face in soft, golden curls.

"Oh Sam, it was the best thing you ever did."