A/N: So this isn't the Kili x Tauriel continuation that a couple of people have asked me for, and I apologize, but it's still Hobbit-related. xD This is my first Baggenshield fic! I watched one fanvid on YouTube and instantly fell in love with this pairing, so I had to get this oneshot off of my chest. I hope to return to my Kili and Tauriel fic soon, yet for now, enjoy some Bilbo and Thorin.

Disclaimer: Throw me into the fires of Mount Doom if I ever say that I own The Hobbit or any of its properties.

I would have died.

I would have loved you all my life…

Thorin felt the cold seep through his clothes, into his skin, and down to his very bones. The ice beneath him made him shudder involuntarily, but he couldn't move beyond that. His body refused to budge, no matter how much he willed it to. So he tried to focus on anything except for how much pain he was in. Yet besides the faint cries of the eagles in the distance, Thorin heard nothing but his own short, shallow breaths. He lay as still as he could; however, reality sank in quickly.

He would die at this rate.

Thorin's lungs ached, and he felt as though he couldn't catch his breath at all. His chest throbbed, his throat burned, and his mouth was dry. When he licked his lips, he tasted the copper flavors of blood and dirt. He looked up at the sky and sighed, watching as the thinnest wisp of steam mingled with the frigid air and disappeared. At least he had managed to wet his lips a little. That made him feel a bit better.

The feeling didn't last long though. It was soon replaced by feelings of regret and hopelessness. Thorin realized that he wouldn't see any of his kin again. None of them would be there to help him pass from this world into the next as he always hoped they would when the time came. He wouldn't be able to apologize to them for everything he had done, for not being the king they thought he would be. Instead, he would now join his sister's sons who had died not long before him.

But then, Thorin felt a greater pain than he had ever endured. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight. As he opened them again, he saw that his vision was blurred by tears, and he blinked desperately to keep them from spilling over. It wasn't his wound that caused him to hurt so much. It was another realization.

He would never see Bilbo again.

That damned burglar. That wonderful hobbit. Thorin cared for his kin deeply, yet during their journey, he had come to care for Bilbo even more. He wanted Bilbo to be there by his side more than anyone else in his last moments. He needed to apologize to Bilbo more than any other member of their company. He had been absolutely horrible to Bilbo. If he could have one final wish, it would be to mend their relationship, somehow, someway. However, he didn't see that happening. His time was drawing nearer every minute.

Thorin remembered when he first stepped through Bilbo's door at Bag End and what he initially thought of the hobbit. When Bilbo could claim no skill with a weapon or experience in a fight, Thorin had said, "Thought as much. He's more like a grocer than a burglar." How awful he had been, and that was their very first meeting.

He remembered when Bilbo was about to leave the company in the dead of night. Everyone was asleep except for him, Bilbo, and Bofur. But he lay in silence, his body turned away from them as he feigned his slumber. They didn't realize that he was actually eavesdropping on them.

"You can't turn back now," Bofur had said. "You're part of the company. You're one of us."

"I'm not now, am I?" Bilbo had replied. "Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking. I should never have run out my door."

Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right… Those words echoed in Thorin's head over and over after he heard them. He recalled feeling a twinge of guilt, as though he was the one who drove Bilbo away. But to shake that feeling, he made the excuse that Bilbo left of his own accord because he was too weak. Just as Thorin suspected he was. Truthfully though, Thorin couldn't imagine the company without its burglar. He really didn't want Bilbo to go.

At least the hobbit hadn't been gone for long. After the company escaped the goblins, Gandalf counted everyone who was present, but Bilbo was missing. Thorin remembered the scathing words he had said.

"I'll tell you what happened: Master Baggins saw his chance, and he took it. He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone."

Our? Why had Thorin used that word? And why did his heart sink further into the pit of his stomach?

That's when Bilbo appeared before them.

"No. He isn't," he had said.

Thorin remembered the sound of the collective sigh of relief from everyone in the company, including himself. Much to his surprise. Gandalf and the other dwarves celebrated his return and asked how he had gotten away from the goblins.

"Well what does it matter?" Gandalf finally proclaimed. "He's back!"

"It matters," Thorin had said, almost sincerely. "I want to know… Why did you come back?"

Bilbo's eyes were set only on Thorin when he spoke.

"Look, I know you doubt me." The hobbit stuttered a bit, yet he continued bravely. "I know you always have. And you're right... I often think of Bag End. I miss my books… and my armchair… and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. That's why I came back 'cause… you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

Thorin recalled glancing at the ground for a moment, absorbing Bilbo's words. So that was why he was willing to go so far for them. Thorin then made eye contact with Bilbo again and nodded in recognition. That was when his view of Bilbo began to change.

And his view continued to change the more that Bilbo did for him. When the company was attacked shortly after by Azog and his followers, Thorin was swiftly defeated. He remembered drifting in and out of consciousness until the image of one orc remained. He felt a blade touching the skin of his neck. Then, out of the blue, Bilbo had launched himself at the orc and managed to knock it down. Thorin had rolled over and watched Bilbo in sheer amazement. However, that was the last thing Thorin saw before he fell unconscious again.

The next time he woke, there was only one thing on his mind, one person that he had to see. Thorin looked up at Gandalf, and the first words out of his mouth had come as a whisper.

"The halfling…?"

"It's alright," Gandalf assured him. "Bilbo is here. He's quite safe."

Once Thorin was helped to his feet, he glared across the way at the hobbit. Bilbo had looked back with his usual, small smile, and it irritated Thorin. How could he be so calm after what happened?! Thorin nearly yelled at him.

"You! What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!"

As the words poured out of him, Thorin realized that he was angry entirely out of love. He walked toward Bilbo as his tirade went on.

"Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild? That you have no place amongst us?"

Bilbo's smile had fallen. Thorin noticed that Bilbo's eyes no longer met his. As he stared at the poor hobbit, Thorin knew that he had scolded him enough. That was when Thorin completely let his guard down, but he didn't care. His true feelings caused his anger to cave, and he was glad of it. He needed Bilbo to know what he really thought, how he really felt. When he spoke again, he did so more tenderly than he ever had.

"I have never been so wrong in all my life."

Thorin pulled Bilbo close and embraced him. The rest of the company rejoiced, and Thorin could feel Bilbo hugging him back. They held each other for a few more moments until Thorin moved away, but not without keeping Bilbo at arms-length. His hands grasped the hobbit's shoulders.

"I am sorry I doubted you," he had said.

Bilbo chuckled. "No, I would have doubted me too. I'm not a hero or a warrior… not even a burglar."

Thorin remembered that as the moment in which he finally accepted Bilbo and started to admire him. Bilbo had certainly won his respect and affection.

Thorin almost couldn't believe how much Bilbo kept proving himself during their journey. When the dwarves were held captive in the Woodland Realm, Thorin had discussed terms with that pompous king of the elves. He returned to his cell empty-handed.

"Did he offer you a deal?" Balin had asked from the cell adjoining his.

"He did," Thorin responded with malice. "I told him he could go ish kakhfê ai'd dur rugnu! Him and all his kin!"

Balin sounded despairing. "Well, that's that then… The deal was our only hope."

Yet Thorin gripped the bars of his cell with strong hands, gazing at the ceiling. He knew that help was on the way, even if the others didn't. Thorin trusted Bilbo, and his faith in the hobbit wasn't misplaced.

"Not our only hope," he whispered.

Sure enough, Bilbo came to their rescue a short while later. Upon hearing Bilbo's voice, Thorin lunged for the bars of his cell. His was the first that Bilbo approached. Bilbo gave him a grin and unlocked the cell door. Thorin had stepped out and wanted to thank Bilbo properly, but he had already moved on to Balin's cell. Thorin would have to thank Bilbo for his good intentions later.

At last, the company of dwarves arrived at Laketown. Thorin had gained an audience in the main square and addressed the master.

"If we succeed," he said. "All will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuilt Esgaroth ten times over!"

The crowd cheered, and Thorin looked around at the joyous people of Laketown. He looked to his company as each member stood tall, even as dwarves (and a hobbit). But one person called out to him as the clamor died down.

"Why should we take you at your word, eh?" Alfrid had asked. "We know nothing about you. Who here can vouch for your character?"

Thorin heard hushed voices from the crowd. No one spoke up for many seconds. Thorin now faced the people full of apprehension. Not even one of his fellow dwarves would speak. Then, someone did.

"Me," Bilbo had said. "I'll vouch for him."

Thorin turned around and gazed at Bilbo, just as everyone in the crowd did. The Bard did, and so did the master of Laketown. All eyes were on the hobbit. Yet Bilbo spoke freely.

"Now, I have traveled far with these dwarves through great danger, and if… if Thorin Oakenshield gives his word, then he will keep it."

The crowd roared once again, and Thorin felt his heart swell inside of him. He looked at Bilbo with genuine acknowledgement and nodded. He had never been more grateful to one person. Bilbo had truly done more for him than anyone else ever could.

Out of the blue, though, Thorin found himself thrown back into reality. He no longer stood in the main square of Laketown. He no longer saw Bilbo's face before him. Instead, Thorin lay on the cold, hard ice of Ravenhill, unable to feel anything below his waist. Thorin swallowed thickly. If only he could linger in those sweet memories a little while longer. He didn't want to pass from this world so numb, so frozen.

Suddenly, however, Thorin sensed a warm presence near him. It had arrived with the softest of footsteps, ones that Thorin hadn't heard. But he saw who it was. The one person that he wanted to be with now more than ever. He saw his hobbit kneeling beside him.

"Bilbo…" he wheezed.

"Don't move!" Bilbo urged him breathlessly. "Don't move. Lie still."

With quick fingers, Bilbo moved the fabric of Thorin's coat to reveal the wound. Yet Bilbo had a weak stomach and felt queasy from the stench of blood. He groaned and covered his mouth with one hand to compose himself. After a few seconds, he pushed his nausea aside and used both hands to try and stop the bleeding.

"I'm glad you're here…" Thorin said softly. Bilbo shushed him multiple times, but that didn't keep Thorin from continuing, even when he coughed and choked briefly. "I wish to part from you in friendship."

"No," Bilbo told him. "You're not going anywhere, Thorin." Then, Bilbo spoke in a low voice and with more conviction than he had ever felt. "You're going to live."

Bilbo looked back and forth from Thorin's face to his wound; however, Thorin watched Bilbo the entire time. Bilbo was doing all that he could to save him, just like he always had. But Thorin knew that his life was fading even faster, and he had so much more to say. He couldn't stop now. There was so little time.

"I would take back… my words and my deeds at the gate," he gasped.

I would take all of it back, he thought. Every foul word I said, every threat I made… When Bilbo made eye contact with Thorin, he spoke again.

"You did what only a true friend would do… Forgive me."

Bilbo made a slight sound, as though he was about to respond. He wanted to say that Thorin was a fool, that there was nothing to forgive. Yet he dared not miss a word that escaped Thorin's lips. This was Thorin's ultimate confession.

"I was too blind to see…" Thorin said. His voice broke as more tears welled in his eyes. "I am so sorry… that I have led you into such peril."

He had to give one final gesture to Bilbo, one that confirmed exactly what he meant. Thorin felt a small surge of strength, just enough to reach for Bilbo's hand. His movement made him coughed once more, which racked his entire body with more pain. But right before his hand slipped away, Bilbo grabbed it. He clasped it with both of his own hands and squeezed tightly. He had so much more to say to Thorin as well.

"No, I'm—I'm glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin," Bilbo said sincerely. "Each and every one of them." He nodded so that Thorin could see, without a doubt, that he was honest in his feelings. "It is far more than any Baggins deserves."

The corner of Thorin's mouth rose to form a smile. His time had come. He had accepted that even after Bilbo arrived. There was no more to be done, as much as his hobbit had tried. It broke Thorin's heart. Yet to him, it was enough that Bilbo could be there after all, and that made him a bit happier, at least. So he would say his goodbye. It would be the last words that he spoke.

"Farewell, Master Burglar…"

Bilbo inhaled deeply and bowed his head. He knew that this would be the last time he heard Thorin speak. He clutched Thorin's hand even tighter between his own. He didn't want Thorin to go. It was the very last thing he wanted.

"Go back to your books…" Thorin whispered. "And your armchair. Plant your trees… watch them grow."

Bilbo tilted his head up again and looked into Thorin's blue eyes. Those beautiful, blue eyes. They were wide and surprisingly clear, even though they would soon be shut forever. Bilbo's mouth formed a taut line as he tried not to sob.

"If more people... valued home… above gold... this world… would be a merrier... place..." Thorin rasped.

He made one final, guttural noise. His mouth was agape. Bilbo was now just a blurred shape to him as his vision darkened. Bilbo leaned forward desperately, still trying to reach him.

"No! No, no, no, no! Thorin!" Bilbo cried out. "No… don't you dare!"

He had no idea if Thorin had heard his plea. He had no idea if Thorin still felt his clasped hands. However, Thorin's hand was limp between them. Bilbo dropped it in order to shift his weight and sit. He wrapped one arm around Thorin's head, his hand touching strands of Thorin's dark hair. He placed his other hand on Thorin's chest and patted gently. Bilbo's face was very close to Thorin's own.

"Thorin… hold on," he murmured. "Hold on… Look. The eagles… The eagles… The eagles are here." Bilbo's voice broke at last. "Thorin!"

Thorin's expression was blank. His eyes were still open, staring aimlessly into the sky above them. Bilbo sat there and recognized that he was now cradling a corpse. Thorin was dead.

Bilbo moved over, drawing his arms away from Thorin. He was unable to contain his sobs any longer and broke down, pressing a hand to his lips. There was no holding his grief back. Bilbo leaned over, curling into a ball and weeping. He didn't know how long he stayed there. It could've been a lifetime, and he still would have mourned for Thorin. Yet he heard the slow flaps of an eagle's wings and felt their huge gusts all around him. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Bilbo raised his head to look at Gandalf.

"The others will come for him," the wizard said. "You come with me, Master Baggins."

Bilbo had no reason to leave. However, he didn't protest when Gandalf lifted him to his feet and began leading him away. Bilbo glanced over his shoulder back at Thorin, and his heart broke. He would never see him again. That stubborn king. That lovely dwarf.

He followed Gandalf up the stairs from where he had come earlier. They were how he found Thorin, laying not far from the slain Azog. Bilbo couldn't bear to look back. Instead, he continued to walk behind Gandalf until they found a place to sit. The wizard left Bilbo there as he went off on his own. Bilbo had a moment to himself, but it was spent fruitlessly trying not to cry. He could see Thorin in the distance even now. He wiped his eyes furiously, making sure that he wouldn't be caught in such a state by anyone.

Bilbo remembered when the company first arrived at the door to Erebor. Bilbo had spotted the stairway leading to the entrance. He and the dwarves climbed all the way up, with him leading the way and Thorin not far behind. They had finally reached the place that the dwarves had yearned for, and Bilbo was happy for them. They had returned home at last.

Yet none of the dwarves could find the keyhole to open the door. Bilbo watched as the sun set steadily behind them until the sky turned dark. The sunlight faded completely. Bilbo recalled the expression on Thorin's face, showing that the leader of their company was despondent and ashamed. As the one they all looked to for strength, Thorin must have felt as though he failed them all. Bilbo couldn't imagine the sorrow that he felt.

However, all of the dwarves, including Thorin began to recede. Bilbo whirled around in astonishment.

"Wait a minute. What?" he had asked. "Where are they going?" Then, he called to all of them. "You can't give up now!"

Bilbo would never forget the sound the key made as it landed on the ground. Thorin had dropped it. Without looking at Bilbo, he walked past him and shoved the map into his chest.

"Thorin," Bilbo implored. "You can't give up now."

The dwarves had gone back down the stairway, leaving Bilbo to stare helplessly at the door. But he didn't stay that way for long. A new light, blue and bright, shined on the door. The light of the moon appeared and illuminated the keyhole. Bilbo was absolutely stunned and had to find his words.

"The keyhole!" He rushed over to the top of the stairway and called down. "Come back! Come back! It's the light of the moon, the last moon of autumn!"

He had laughed like a fool and then stumbled around for the key. Yet he accidentally kicked it, nearly sending it over the edge of the cliff. However, Thorin was there. He stomped his foot and caught the key by its string. Bilbo gazed at him, surprised and beyond relief. The whole company had returned. Thorin opened the door, and they had all entered Erebor together.

Though there was still the problem of dealing with a deadly dragon. It was time for Bilbo to fulfill his role as the company's burglar. Bilbo remembered his encounter with Smaug, saying whatever pretty things he had to in order to save his own skin and still make off with the Arkenstone. But when the rest of the dwarves came in after him, everything became quite hairy. Bilbo had been running down a corridor along with Thorin and Balin. When Balin turned down another hallway, Thorin continued straight. Yet Bilbo wouldn't go anywhere without him.

"This way! Come on!" Balin had called.

"Thorin!" Bilbo shouted.

Thorin almost followed them, until Smaug rounded the corner at the end of the corridor. The dragon stared them down. Thorin looked to Bilbo.

"Follow Balin!" he ordered.

Bilbo walked backwards, unable to turn away from Thorin. He wouldn't keep his eyes off of him. He wouldn't lose him, not in this fight. Not ever.

"Thorin—!"

"Come on!" Balin yelled.

Suddenly, Smaug breathed fire that barreled down the corridor toward them. Balin yanked Bilbo into the hallway as the flames consumed the corridor before them. Bilbo didn't know if Thorin had escaped to safety. He could only pray that he had. And Thorin had. The entire company endured their fight with Smaug. However, the dragon would have his revenge, if not on them, then something else. He took it on the poor people of Laketown.

Bilbo remembered remaining with the dwarves as they rebuilt Erebor. Even more so, he remembered Thorin's descent into madness as he succumbed to dragon sickness. Balin and Gandalf had warned them all of it, and Thorin began to suffer from it. He instructed everyone to commence a hurried search for the Arkenstone.

When Bilbo had a moment to himself, he sat on a bench and rummaged in his breast pocket for a special trinket he had with him. Unbeknownst to him, Thorin was nearby.

"What is that? In your hand?" the king had demanded harshly.

"I-It's nothing," Bilbo said, startled.

"Show me," Thorin responded.

Bilbo did nothing for a moment, studying Thorin intently. Then he raised his hand and opened it. On his palm sat an acorn. Thorin's eyes spotted it, and once they did, Bilbo noticed an instant change in Thorin's face. It became much calmer. It made Bilbo feel the same.

"I picked it up in Beorn's garden," he had explained.

"… You've carried it all this way?" Thorin asked quietly.

"I'm going to plant it in my garden in Bag End."

Thorin smirked for the first time that Bilbo had seen in a long while. "It's a poor prize to take back to the Shire."

"One day, it'll grow," Bilbo told him. "And every time I look at it, I'll remember. Remember everything that happened: the good, the bad… and how lucky I am that I made it home."

He chuckled, feeling the tension leave his body. He looked at Thorin, and it seemed that the same was happening to him. Thorin gave the most genuine and radiant smile that Bilbo had ever seen. His heart raced at the sight. Thorin's expression brightened, and Bilbo could swear that his eyes shined for just a moment. For that brief amount of time, Bilbo thought that Thorin had returned to his normal self. Now was the moment to speak sense to him, to reason with him. Or maybe even…

"Thorin, I—" Bilbo began.

"Thorin." Dwalin's voice drifted in from where Thorin had come.

Bilbo watched with sadness as Thorin sank back into the dragon sickness. His smile dropped, and his eyes glazed over. It was as though a candle had been blown out. Whatever semblance of Thorin that Bilbo had seen disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Dalin informed him of the survivors of Laketown, and he would hear none of it.

Bilbo recalled seeing such glimpses of the old Thorin as the dwarves prepared for the worst scenario: war. When Bilbo stood down the hall from the great armory in Erebor, he stared at Thorin, his shape like a silhouette on the other side.

"Master Baggins, come here," the king had commanded. Bilbo walked through the hall until he joined him. Thorin held a shirt between his hands and offered it to Bilbo. "You're going to need this," he said. "Put it on."

Bilbo glanced down at the shirt and then back at Thorin before obliging.

"This vest is made of silver steel," Thorin explained. "Mithril. It was called by my forebears. No blade can pierce it."

Bilbo removed his coat, dropped it to the floor, and accepted the shirt. He watched as Thorin circled him while he put the garment on. Bilbo felt as though Thorin's gaze lasted just a bit too long, and he became flustered. He looked down at the mithril in order to find his words.

"I look absurd!" he laughed nervously. "I'm not a warrior, I'm a hobbit."

"It is a gift," Thorin had said with a small smile. "A token of our friendship."

Bilbo could see it again: Thorin's old self coming to the surface. Bilbo could tell by his rare smile, the gleam in his eyes. But that was when Thorin descended again into madness and pushed Bilbo away from the armory. He had said that he was betrayed by one of the other dwarves, that one of them had the Arkenstone. The weight that Bilbo carried seemed to be much heavier all of the sudden.

He had to get rid of it. He had to keep it away from Thorin at all cost, for his own good. Bilbo recalled leaving for Dale as soon as possible. He approached Thranduil's tent, where the bard from Laketown and Gandalf were with the elvish king. Bilbo presented the Arkenstone to them and described how he took it as his 14th share of the treasure.

"Why would you do this?" Bard had asked. "You owe us no loyalty."

Bilbo shook his head. "I'm not doing it for you." I'm doing it for him, he thought.

"I know that dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult," he continued. "They're suspicious and secretive with the worst manners you can possibly imagine, but they are also brave… and kind…" Bilbo lowered his voice. "and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can."

Deep down, he knew that every word he had just used applied to Thorin more than any of the other dwarves. Each word exactly.

Bilbo remembered returning to Erebor so as not to cause any alarm. When Thranduil and Bard came with their army and showed Thorin the Arkenstone, he wouldn't believe them. Bilbo had to convince him. He showed himself to all of the dwarves and explained everything. Thorin's reaction was filled with such disdain, and his voice sounded more and more like Smaug's as he spoke. Bilbo couldn't take much more of it.

"I was going to give it to you," he had said. "Many times, I wanted to, but…"

"But what… thief?" Thorin spat.

"You are changed, Thorin," Bilbo told him boldly. "The dwarf I met in Bag End would never have gone back on his word! Would never have doubted the loyalty of his kin!" Or mine!

Normally, Bilbo wouldn't have talked to someone he cared about in that way. Or anyone, really. It wasn't in his nature. Yet Bilbo had to tell Thorin what he needed to hear, not what he wanted. It nearly cost Bilbo his life. Thorin gave the order to throw Bilbo from the ramparts, and when none of the other dwarves obeyed, Thorin almost did it himself.

Bilbo had thought that Thorin was truly lost. Until Gandalf's booming voice came from below, and Bilbo narrowly escaped Erebor.

He shook his head to send that particular memory away. He didn't like remembering Thorin that way. He found himself back on Ravenhill, and Gandalf took a seat next to him, preparing his pipe. The two friends sat wordlessly. Bilbo wanted to say something, but nothing came to him. Instead, he gazed down at the company of dwarves that surrounded the corpse of their king, their kin. They still knelt before him. Bilbo blinked rapidly to avoid more tears.

A long while later, Bilbo and Balin walked out of the main entrance of Erebor together. Bilbo saw Gandalf standing not too far away with two horses. The wizard had prepared for the journey ahead of them. As Balin explained the feast that would be held that night, the songs that would be sung, and the tales that would be told, Bilbo knew that he couldn't stay. Balin then told him that Thorin Oakenshield would pass into legend. Bilbo stopped and faced Balin.

"I know that's how you must honor him," he said. "But to me, he was never that. He was… To me… he was…"

Why could he not finish that sentence? Why did he struggle? Bilbo glanced at the ground and swallowed thickly. When he looked back up, Balin gave him a knowing smile, his eyes shining. Bilbo didn't have to say anything more, and he didn't. He bid farewell to the remaining dwarves and left with Gandalf.

Bilbo enjoyed the easy ride back to the borders of the Shire. However, he couldn't help but reminisce about the harrowing journey he had undertaken. He missed the company of dwarves that he was with every step of the way. And he still mourned Thorin. The Shire would seem so simple and small after everything Bilbo had been through. He and Gandalf went their separate ways, and Bilbo returned to the Shire at last.

Only to find that all of his belongings were being sold due to his presumed death and lengthy absence. He marched up the pathway to his hobbit hole and presented his contract to the auctioneer, proving that he was in fact Bilbo Baggins and very much alive. Bilbo climbed up the stairs and made it to the open door of his home when the auctioneer inquired.

"Who is this person you pledged your service to?" Bilbo came to a halt. "Thorin Oakenshield?"

Bilbo stared into the emptiness of his home. Hearing Thorin's name again caused his heart to hurt. He looked to the auctioneer, forcing his lips to form words, as much as they pained him.

"He… He was my friend," he said. He stepped into his hobbit home and let everything he carried fall to the floor.

Bilbo had never been a good liar.

Wow, so many tears were shed while writing this story… I'm sorry if it's really long, but I hope you liked it! Please review and share your thoughts!