And now, we come to the last chapter.

Sorry it took so long, but life was stupid and it takes a while to type, though Basementfullofbandmembers helped with that issue :)

I hope you like it – it's more or less just an epilogue... *throws chapter at you and runs away*

...

The next morning, Bilbo dressed in the clothes provided. They were elaborate and, it would seem, made for a young dwarf rather than a hobbit, but they would do until some could be made that would fit him. They were coloured sky blue, with some hints of deep purple

He inspected himself in the mirror, and Thorin stood behind him.

"The colours of my family."

"I will wear them with pride."

"Good, otherwise I'd have to make you," Thorin teased.

"You wouldn't."

"I'm the king - if I want my consort to wear blue, he must wear blue."

"Oh so it's a command?" Bilbo teased back.

Thorin chuckled and kissed the top of Bilbo's head in response.

They walked towards the banqueting hall together, with Thorin's large hand a comforting pressure against Bilbo's lower back. The guards opened the doors to reveal a large banqueting table, full of a huge variety of meats, breads, cheeses and fruits. Music played from a small group of dwarves in the corner as the king and his bondmate took a seat

Just as they sat down, Thorin took a ring from his pocket and, taking Bilbo's hand, slid it onto his right index finger. Bilbo looked up, questioning.

"It belongs to the bondmate of the king. It's been passed down for centuries," was the gruff reply.

Then Thorin stood up and proclaimed a toast, but Bilbo was barely listening. He glanced round at the dwarves surrounding him, noticing that those he had travelled with all had privileged places near the top of the table. Then he glanced back at his bondmate, noticing the new lines on his face, showing the many years and many worries from when they had been apart. But no more; a joy shone in his eyes that seemed to surpass even the long-ago joy of seeing Erebor again, or that of exploring Smaug's hoard.

It seemed that the toast was to him, because suddenly everyone was staring at him. Bilbo merely smiled and sipped from his cup.

...

Over time, Bilbo learned his way throughout the passages of the mountain, and the learned the names of the members of the council. He became a great favourite with the children, whose names he also learnt, because of the wonderful stories he would tell them; stories about a hobbit, who didn't use to like adventures; stories of the Shire, of elves, goblins, spiders, eagles and of long journeys. He told them of the one ring; how he'd carried it, and how his nephew was taking it to be destroyed amidst the fire of Mordor. And when asked, he would tell the tales all over again, to the children's delight.

He grew his hair and let Thorin persuade him to have it braided – since he was definitely an old hobbit now (no matter what Thorin said), and not at all respectable, he was quite content to have it done in the dwarven fashion.

Fili and Kili had taken it upon themselves to name him 'Uncle Hobbit' or 'Uncle Burglar', depending on how they felt at that precise moment. Bilbo had long given up trying to make them stop. Most of the dwarves called him something along the lines of 'my Lord Consort', except for in private, where Bilbo insisted on his old friends calling him 'Bilbo', or 'Burglar'.

Thorin called him whatever he felt like at the time: 'Hobbit' or 'Burglar' (but never 'Halfling' – Bilbo was half of nothing) were common in informal public settings, but when in private, the endearments ranged from 'love' to Dwarven ones Bilbo could not understand. So he took it up himself to learn some of the dwarf language, at least enough to understand the strange words Thorin would gasp in moments of passion, or murmur in moments of tenderness. Thorin was a good teacher, and often the two would spend their few hours of leisure time in armchairs by the fire, studying Khuzdul.

And thus the two spent the last decades of their life together.

They lived to see Fili, who was now married, father a son and a daughter, events which caused great rejoicing in the kingdom. Fili grew up to be a good diplomat and warrior, and the people of Erebor loved him fiercely. In later years, Fili also became Prince Regent, taking over most of Thorin's duties so that he would have some experience when he ascended the throne, and so that his uncle did not tire himself too much.

They lived to see some of the Company pass on to Mahal's halls: Balin, Oin and Ori set out for Moria (many decades later than they had planned, on Thorin's request) and did not return, and Bifur died of old age. Many also left Erebor: Nori returned once again to his wandering ways, and Dori returned to his business in the Blue Mountains, as did Gloin.

Thorin lived until the age of 294 and died peacefully in his sleep (despite the fact that everyone had expected he'd die in battle someday, much like they expected of Dwalin). Bilbo mourned in the traditional dwarven way – removing all his braids and wearing his long hair loose, as well as tying a black strip of cloth round his wrist. He stayed for the burial, and Fili's coronation, before leaving for the Shire. Though he did not want to leave his friends in Erebor, he knew that that part of his life was over, and he should move on.

Bilbo arrived in the Shire six months later, where he stayed a short time before leaving Middle Earth forever, on a boat bound for the undying lands, with Frodo, Gandalf, Elrond and a few others. As the boat set off, Bilbo smiled softly to think of Thorin waiting for him in Mahal's halls, as he had promised, and Bilbo knew that as a dwarf's bondmate, he would not be denied entry.

He would see Thorin soon.

...

Yeah I hate epilogues that talk about deaths too, but I have to conclude and I needed to find a way to round things off.

Thank you to all the lovely reviewers, favouriters, followers, readers, and any other category you may come into – thank you to all of you