Bilbo
The journey back was long and tyring, but Bilbo didn´t remember much of it. One moment he was talking with Fili and Kili and the other he was already leaving Rivendell. Lord Elrond was very kind to him and made sure he spent some time in his home to recover from the long travel and the injuries he suffered along the way. What the elf didn´t know was that Bilbo suffered not just from sore feet, but even more from a broken spirit. Or maybe he did. Maybe he saw the hollow look in the hobbit´s eyes, the spark that used to be always present the last time he was in his home, was completely gone. Even though he found him many times in the library going through ancient scrolls, the interest in which he was reading them was vague. As if it was more of a habit that an actual interest. The hobbit was broken that much was obvious. What exactly was troubling him, the elven lord didn´t know, but he could spot a heartbreak when he saw one.
Finally, after more than a year, Bilbo was back in the Shire. Back home. But it didn´t feel as good as he had hoped. Not long before he arrived at Bag End he found out about the auction of his belongings. It took him 2 weeks to finally get everything back. The hobbit hole was a mess. Everything was piled up as he threw it there after he had convinced his relatives that he was very much alive and was still the owner of all those things. Sorting it all out at least kept his mind busy and Eru knew he needed that. It worked until he got to the small pile of doilies. Their value changed so much from the last time he saw them. He used to take them as something precious, but now he only threw them into a box with old sheets.
He was not surprised at all when he didn´t find any of his silver spoons returned. Bilbo rubbed his palm over his face and secretly hoped Lobelia would choke on soup with the spoons.
Eventually when the hole was clean again, it all dawned on him. The loneliness he felt, the silence and emptiness of his home. How could it be a home when it lacked the merry voices singing about blunting his knives? Without the noises from the table that he had found so disgusting back then or Thorin´s deep voice and stern gaze always following him. Even the insults would be more welcome now that the endless silence. How could he just go back to his old life when he had fought orcs and riddled with Gollum. Gods, he faced a bloody dragon!
But no one knew this in the Shire. The place was still peaceful, happy, dealing with every day affairs that mattered little. It felt so strange to watch the lives of the hobbits go on as they always did. It wasn´t that he had been gone for too long and came back to a changed place. The opposite actually, as if the world stopped there and nothing that happened outside its borders could affect it. Bilbo used to love this about the Shire, but oh how much he hated it now. He had seen too much, had lived through too much to just leave it all behind. The Shire hadn´t changed, but he did.
The treasure chest was stored away along with Sting, the mithril armor and the map of the Lonely Mountain he so took at the last moment. The only thing he had left of that blasted mountain. What good did it bring him? It almost killed him and turned his friends into greedy beasts just as the one lying on the piles of gold.
He really was a fool for going on an adventure like that. What on earth possessed him? But as much as he couldn´t understand why, he couldn´t bring himself to regret it. Despite the bitter end, they had some really great time. It was like having a family again, with Fili and Kili calling him uncle all the time. Sometimes even auntie, but Bilbo put a quick end to it. Having this and then having it all ripped out of his hands made it hurt much more. And then there was Thorin. Losing his friends hurt badly, but it was nothing compared to the pain filling him every time his thoughts turned to the King. But he didn´t shed a tear during the day, only at night when his mind wandered too far, he wept for the moments when it wasn´t King Thorin, but just a dwarf that was his. For some time Thorin was only his. And with these sweet memories he would fall asleep with a smile on his face every night to keep away bitter memories of their parting. Not that it worked every time.
This was how he lived now. Sorting and reading books and maps, having tea with friends and relatives. But only with those who didn´t try to take their share from his property. Primula Brandybuck was one of his friends who kept visiting him very often. It was she who helped him get out of his shell of grim memories. She was very kind, subtle and perfectly respectable. Nothing like the dwarves.
But what he appreciated the most was her attitude towards his adventure. She didn´t ask about it, but didn´t avoid the subject either when it came to it. She was waiting patiently when he was ready to talk about it and Bilbo couldn´t be more grateful. Her visits slowly became longer and more frequent. After couple months of this going on, Bilbo started laughing again. It was during one late afternoon, Primula was out at the market and Bilbo was making dinner when he heard raised voices from outside. He opened the front door and saw his cousin Drogo standing in front of the gate, covered from head to toe in mud. But what made Bilbo laugh was the single white daisy sitting in his cousin´s dirty locks. Primula was laughing next to him with hands over her belly and Drogo was frowning at her with what he thought to be a death glare. It wasn´t.
They both turned abruptly to the green door when they heard someone else laughing. Bilbo was crying, holding the door frame for support. His belly hurt and he felt a slight pain starting in his jaws, but it felt incredibly good.
Almost two years after his return, Primula moved into Bad End with him. Their first kiss happened in the kitchen when he was washing the dishes and he was flushed from the warm water. It was extremely awkward and Bilbo thought he was too old for starting all this anew.
Their life together was peaceful and happy, just as it should be for two hobbits. Except for one thing. After 3 years of their relationship and Bilbo still didn´t propose. He knew it was high time and it was what was expected from him, but something kept him from making that step. During his years as a bachelor he never thought he would marry and if he were honest with himself, that didn´t change. He loved Primula that he knew, but he also knew that he didn´t love her as he loved Thorin.
Sometimes he sneaked out of the bed to the quiet night to have a smoke outside. Then and only then he allowed himself to remember once again. He imagined Thorin´s blue eyes burning his very soul every time he looked at him. The raven locks being so soft despite their hard appearance. Bilbo chuckled at his own thoughts when he recalled Thorin´s face after he once mentioned he liked the grey streaks in his hair. And the big, strong hands consuming him completely, letting him lose himself in the scent that was purely Thorin. His fingers itched, yearning to touch the firm body again, to have it back. He didn´t even know if Thorin loved him at all or if he was just a pleasant distraction on the road. They never voiced what was between them, never talked about it between the quick moments of passion. He probably served just as a stress release for the future King. And if not, the blasted stone ruined it all anyway.
It was at one of those nights when Bilbo was sitting on the bench again looking wistfully at the sky. Did they miss him in Erebor? Surely if they did, the would have sent a note at least. Perhaps they were angry that he left without saying goodbye. Or more likely, they were angry for what he had done.
It was all gone. He had a new life now. A new adventure. It was time to put Mad Baggins to the box with the remains of the journey and be the respectable Master Baggins who would marry the wonderful woman that loved him and would start a family with her. Tomorrow he would ask her to marry him. Yes, tomorrow would mark the beginning of a new period of his life.