I do not own this book/movie at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story.
Bilbo sat on the bench outside watching the morning sun begin to spread its fingers over the Shire. The wind blew a refreshing breeze and the smell of flowers drifted up from the garden. This was the most at peace he'd felt since Gandalf had left, this quiet early morning before even the birds had begun to wake. After Gandalf left the Shire Bilbo's high spirits had not lasted a day before they had broken. He'd mourned heavily these past few months, barely eating or drinking and he'd only rarely gotten out of bed. So much had been lost to him in such a short time and he was no were near prepared to handle loss of any kind let alone at this scale.
Four months ago they had had held a mass funeral for those that had been lost in the Fell Winter. Bilbo felt that his parents and grandfather did not get the funeral he believed they deserved but none that were lost in the Fell Winter did. The ceremony was long as they listed the names of the dead with a prayer, sang the song of mourning, and buried their dead. None were unaffected and none were strong enough to do more than that for their loved ones. Bilbo spent hours kneeling over their graves weeping with others who had lost loved ones. He resolved to be strong and make them proud that day but his heart was not strong enough to let him keep that promise.
The months following the funeral were rough. Bilbo often woke up in the middle of the night crying out for his parents every time he managed to find sleep, so often did he dream of them. He'd run to the kitchen or the study thinking he'd heard his mother singing or his father moaning over the state of his beloved books only to collapse in heartbroken agony when the rooms were empty. He chased phantoms of his family through his house and cried every time he realized that his mind was playing tricks on him and he was still alone. Bag End was too silent and too loud all at once, too full of memories that were deprived of substance. Even so he knew deep down that it would break him more to leave. Bilbo had only just barely pulled through the depression that still threatened to take his mind when he walked through a too quiet home and sat down at a table set for one.
Other changes had happened with the loss of all he'd had. He'd fallen ill again, but this time he was alone with no stories to be heard and no songs to be sung to remind him that he would pull through. It took more out of him than he thought he'd had but he managed to work through the sickness and get better again. After he had recovered from his sickness, perhaps it was a shallow thing for him to notice in the wake of everything else, Bilbo had seen that he looked old now. His face was lined and his eyes burdened with the depths of pain that made his young eyes look old. It had been a shocking thing for him to look in the mirror to see the face of a stranger. It was another hard blow in a time when he'd been hit so hard already, but he pulled through and he found himself healing in a most unexpected way.
He found release cleaning Bag End and restocking the larders to prepare it for another owner, Lobelia was quite a pushy hobbit when she set her mind to it, the week before his first peaceful morning since the Fell Winter ended. The smial had gotten quite filthy with only one mourning hobbit to tend to it and there was much dusting, shining, sweeping, and moping to be done. The chores that had so long gone undone had become a balm to the hobbit. The small repetitive actions pulling his mind away from the hurt had helped him in more ways than he knew. Cleaning the things that belonged to his parents he'd found himself smiling at the fond memories they held and slowly at first though it quickly gained momentum he began to feel cheerful again. He sometimes even found himself stopping in the middle of a chore at the sound of whistling only to find that he was the one who had whistled. Cleaning had helped him realize that his parents were still with him, if not in person than in spirit. Their love would never leave him and now that that had dawned to him he was able to care for the world outside his grief again.
He sighed as the first birds began to sing their song and he nearly cried for the beauty of it. He knew he would never forget his mother, his father, or his grandfather, but he also knew he could not mourn forever. He still ached for them still yearned to hear their voices and see their faces in reality instead of dreams or drawings but today their memory did not inspire the heart deep ache he'd gotten so used to feeling. Instead he felt light in a way, and their memories inspired small smiles that promised to grow in time. He sat back, closed his eyes, and just listened, taking in the early morning believing that things were going to get better.
It was that moment that his luck had decided to prove that it was a fickle thing and give him the start of what would become either the best or the worst thing to ever happen to him, though at the time Bilbo was inclined to think it the worst. The most important instance of Bilbo's life began in a quite ordinary way with a large shadow blocking out the pleasant light and heat from the morning sun. He blinked away the sudden darkness and looked up, nearly straining his neck doing so, to see the towering form of Gandalf the Grey with his grey robes, tall pointed grey hat, and wild silvery grey hair and beard towering over him.
"Good morning." Bilbo chirped even as he frowned at the older man who was blocking his light tough inside he was happy, delighted even, to see the older man even though a week ago the sight of the man would have set him in tears that would have lasted until he had no tears left in him. It was a good sign that he had finally healed enough to enjoy the company of his friend.
"What do you mean by that? Are you wishing me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not, or that you feel good on this morning, or that it is a morning to be good on?" The wizard asked the questions with a quizzical tone that the hobbit felt no one else could pull off half as well as Gandalf if they tried. He would have been willing to bet his best buttons that Gandalf was smirking into that ridiculous beard of his from the way he'd asked those questions.
The small hobbit looked at him skeptically for a minute before answering with a wry turn of his lips. "You always ask me those questions Gandalf. In fact if I recall correctly every time I say 'good morning' to you no matter how I say it you ask me those same questions. Then no matter how I choose to answer it you always look at me like you can't believe how stupid what I just said was." Bilbo said nearly laughing, for the first time in months, before he sighed in a fashion that he knew was overdramatic. "But if you must know my answer then I would say that I mean all of them at once." He then gave the wizard a smile that was almost cheeky. "Good morning."
Gandalf gave a laugh that sounded more like a coughing fit than anything joyful. "I am glad to see you are doing well Bilbo. These last few years have been harder on you than those that came before. You've been changed by this Bilbo and though things have been hard for you lately there is no reason to believe that things will not get better. It is nice to see you again."
Bilbo smiled up at his often frustrating and enigmatic friend. "And it is nice to see you too." He gestured to the door of Bag End with both hands. "Would you like to come in and join me for breakfast?" He perked up himself at the mention of breakfast.
Gandalf politely waved the request off though. "No Bilbo I am afraid I have some other matters to see to first, but I will be back in time for supper to discuss the matter of saving your home with you."
"So you know of a way to save Bag End?" The Hobbit asked sounding younger than he looked as he often did when he was excited.
Gandalf smiled down at him. "I did promise you that I would help you save your home and a wizard always keeps his promises."
"Thank you." The small hobbit exclaimed with a hug around the wizards legs. Gandalf petted his head earning a scowl from the hobbit and a smile from the wizard.
"It is nice to see you but I won't keep you from the business you have to attend to." Bilbo said as he stepped away from the wizard in part to get away from the assault on his curls. He casually walked to his mailbox and took out his mail, though it was certainly not to prevent another attack on his head. He gave Gandalf one last friendly good morning and walked toward his house sorting through the mail frowning as most of it was unfortunately from either the Sackville-Baggins' or their lawyers. He walked through the front door into his living room, shutting the door behind him as he did, and stopped as he heard a slight scratching noise at the door. Stopping Gandalf from doing whatever it was that he was doing would be impossible and pointless but he still found himself peeking out the window to see what the wizard was doing. His view wasn't very good though so he ended up with nothing more than a view of the wizard's side as he bent down in front of the door. Bilbo shook his head and decided to go ahead and have his breakfast.
After he ate he decided not to waste his time and he cleaned up quickly and decided to get ready for supper. He looked through the pantry and the ice chest looking for something suitable. He found some fish that he remembered Gandalf liked and decided that a trip through the garden would provide a nice salad to go with it and he gathered what he would need. He put the fish in an ice chest closer to the kitchen so that he could reach it easily later. He gathered the wine that his mother and father had favored whenever they entertained guests. He walked into one of the storage rooms his mother had set aside for big people and one at a time he got out things he felt he would need and moved them into the dining room. He got down a wine glass for Gandalf to drink from, a mug in case he did not want wine, a plate that was of a better size for a big person, a set of silverware that was a proper size, and lastly a chair that would be comfortable for him to sit in.
With that done he spent the rest of the day gathering the letters from the lawyers and other documents he would need, eating his meals, and doing some cleaning around the house. He managed to get everything ready and prepared for supper, just in time, and waited on Gandalf to arrive. But Gandalf never knocked on his door or came in uninvited like he was wont to do. Instead Bilbo was left waiting until late into the night. He changed into more comfortable clothing as he cursed the rudeness of wizards under his breath. He gathered his cold supper and resolved to eat Gandalf's portion too reheating it and sitting down at the table to enjoy his very late supper.
The instant he managed to settle down there was a ring of his doorbell and he grumbled as he took the napkin from his collar and threw it on the table. He got up from his chair and walked up to the door ready to give Gandalf a firm talking to about the importance of arriving on time when you set an appointment as to a hobbit there was nothing so rude as to let your hosts good hot food go cold by dawdling. He opened the door a scolding ready to leap off his tongue and he promptly swallowed his words. There was a dwarf at Bag End! A tall, for a dwarf, and imposing dwarf with a head that was bald on top with long hair growing where the baldness ended at the sides and back of his head stood at his front door. He was wearing thick traveling clothes in all shades of brown and his eyes were a piercing shade of blue. He had a beard that somehow managed to look wild and well-trimmed all at once and an intimidating manner. There was an impressive scar over his eyebrow but the only thing that registered to Bilbo was a question. Why was there a dwarf at his house?
"Dwalin at your service." The imposing dwarf said with a bow revealing impressive looking, for the size of them, metal cuffs on his ears and a voice that while deep and rough did not seem to be as deep and rough as the hobbit had imagined it would be before he spoke.
Bilbo blinked up at him before he noticed that the patchwork robe he was wearing was wide open. He blushed slightly as he pulled it closed and tied it off. "Bilbo Baggins at yours." He said with a slight mumble awkwardly.
The dwarf pushed past him seeming to take the open door as an invitation to enter and Bilbo had to jump back so that he didn't get bowled over, which was quite rude of the dwarf. "Excuse me but do we know each other?" He asked stumbling over the words at the embarrassment and confusion he felt.
The dwarf looked at him with his face scrunched as he replied with a word Bilbo did not want to hear from a stranger barging into his house. "No."
The dwarf strode through the halls like he owned the house removing his travel cloak holding it as he looked around the house. "Which way Laddie? Is it down here?" The dwarf asked and Bilbo finally remembered to shut the door. Which he almost managed until the dwarf threw the cloak at him.
"Which way to what? What is down here?" The hobbit asked his confusion and frustration growing more and more potent by the second.
"Is what down here?" Bilbo asked beginning to fear that Gandalf had done something. His mother had told him stories like this, where strangers showed up seemingly invited by another, and it was usually the work of a certain wizard.
"Supper. He said there would be food and lots of it." The dwarf said looking as excited about the prospect of food as a hobbit would be about the subject.
"Supper? What food?" The hobbit asked even as his frustration and confusion were being drowned under the weight of a childhood being taught good manners. "He… He said. Who's he?"
That is how Bilbo came to find himself watching as Dwalin ate his supper and mumbled appreciatively while doing so. The fish he had fried and the bread he had made to share with Gandalf instead went to the dwarf. To Bilbo it seemed as though his mystery guest was the most interesting thing that would happen that night, little did Bilbo know that this unexpected party would not be a party of one. In fact this day was about to become the tipping point of his entire life for with the start of this unexpected party his life had come down to an unexpected choice. A choice that would change his life forever no matter what he decided.
For anyone who missed it on the last chapter I realized that a sentence had been partially cut so the part where I described the courtship and marriage beads was cut off. I'm putting it here so that anyone who wants to know what the beads looked like doesn't have to search through the last chapter to find it.
Letting Bilbo completely forget his true bloodline over the stupidity of another never sat well with either of his parents and after discussing it for a while they agreed to give Bilbo the beads from his mother's courtship and marriage. The two pale wood and gold beads were placed on a delicate looking but sturdy golden chain, a gift from Belladonna's previous husband that he insisted she keep.
Regarding a review I've received and in remaining true to what I said on my profile, that when I make a mistake and you point it out I will fix it, I have decided not to change what I've done as far as dwarf culture and ageing are concerned. This is an AU work and I have mentioned in the authors notes before that I have made changes for the sake of plot. I am also sticking mostly to movie continuity because as of now I know it better. I will be using elements from both the movies and the book as the story progresses but for the main part I will be sticking to movie continuity. I was also informed by another party that dwarves come of age at seventy two and due to research I have done I have accepted it as cannon to this story line and to any other works I do regarding the Hobbit and/or Lord of the Rings. Thank yous to everyone, who read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited