Dear all, before you read this epilogue, let me thank you with all my heart for all the support you have shown me ever since I started writing this story. It is thanks to you that I continued until the end and I really loved writing for you. It also made me realise how much I like writing and that's all thanks to you. You guys were the real heroes of this story :')
I will soon post the alternate ending and will then go on with the suite of Luna's adventures. For those who stop here, I thank you again and hope you enjoyed reading this story at least as much as I enjoyed writing it. For the others who will read the suite, I will see you soon then :)
... :')

Epilogue

Back to the beginning ; 60 years later

Bilbo finished writing the last phrase then set his feather down and with a deep sigh, closed his book. There it was at last. He had promised Ori long ago that he would write about his adventure and, although it had taken him sixty years, he had finally finished and he was proud of himself.
He made a mental note to send a letter to the dwarf to let him know he was finally done then thought against it when he remembered that he had promised himself to leave this book to Frodo so that he could know what had really happened to him sixty years ago and learn the story of an extraordinary company of dwarves.

Bilbo absentmindedly looked at the papers on the table in front of him. The old map of the North showing the lonely mountain in its centre laid there among a messy piles of other parchments. Some were maps as well, others were papers written by the old hobbit himself.

He let out a deep sigh and took the old portray of Luna that he had carefully kept safe ever since that day Ori had given it to him when he had left the company to go back to the Shire.

Sixty years, he couldn't believe the quest that had forever changed his life had happened sixty years ago already. Many things had changed since then but not in the Shire. Things never changed in this place, and it was probably for the best.

Over the past decades, he had sometimes had the pleasure to find one or a couple of the dwarves at his door. Balin, especially, had visited him a few times to bring news of what was happening over there, beyond the misty mountains and Mirkwood.

Over the years, he had been kept informed of what was going on over there either by the dwarves' visits or by their letters.
He had thus known how the dwarves had slowly traveled from the blue mountains to Erebor where they now seemed to live at peace. Dain turned out to be a great king and never had the relationship between the lonely mountain and the Iron Hills been so strong.

Oïn had been named chief healer of Erebor and was in charge of forming apprentices. Bombur was keeping a watching eye over the cooks and never did the dwarves lack of good food in the mountain.
Bofur, although acknowledged by all as one of the finest warriors amongst his kin, enjoyed nothing better than to make toys and sing songs to the children and from what Bilbo heard, he never missed an occasion to tell the story of their quest.
His brother Bifur had said his first word in the common tongue a few years after the end of their adventure but it seemed to be difficult for him to remember any other.
Gloïn was one of the strongest warriors they knew, and along with Dwalin, they kept watch over Erebor and its people. The guard had never been established again. After the death of the last captain and the last heirs of Durin, no one had had the heart to form a new guard with a new line to protect. It didn't tough that the dwarves, and especially Dwalin and Gloïn, would completely forget their jobs and they were watching over Dis.
The only thing that kept the princess in the mountain was that her brother and her sons were buried there, everyone knew it. Over the years, she had slowly become a bit better and was now taking part in the dwarves' everyday activities. Dain insisted on having her in his council and she was now an important part of it. There was no doubt that she would never truly be the same again and that her wound was too deep to ever be cured, but little by little, she had started living again and all looked up to her in respect.

With her and a few others, Balin had taken back his place of old councillor and was always advising the king with his usual wiseness. He was the one who most often wrote to Bilbo, along with Ori.
The little scribe had been attributed the charge of the immense library of Erebor, a task that he seemed very fond of. His brother Nori was in charge of the finances of the mountain and never let a single coin slip out, and Dori was helping them both.

In Dale too things had changed. The men had decided to stay there and rebuild the city and for long now had Bilbo hoped to go and see it again. Bard had been named the new master by the men and had wonderfully managed to help them rebuild their lives here.
Their contacts with Erebor were frequent and very friendly.

Although the elves and the dwarves would never completely get along, their long-time hatred with the elves of Mirkwood seemed to have diminished a little and trade had started again with the king Thranduil.
The dwarves did not know that but I will tell you, reader ; after the battle of the five armies, Thranduil gave a second thought about the exile he had condemned Tauriel to and decided to welcome her again in their kingdom.

The red-headed elf thanked him for it but she couldn't bring herself right now to go back to Mirkwood, especially not without Legolas who had left as well and was roaming the North in search of a little boy that he ended up finding in Rivendell under the care of lord Elrond and who was destined to be one day the king of Gondor.
Although she promised to return one day, so far she never did and no one ever knew what became of her.

For Bilbo too there had been some change. First, he had quickly understood that Gandalf had been right on the eve of their quest when he had told him that if he returned, he would never be the same hobbit again.
Indeed, he was not. From the moment he had stepped back in Bag-End, he had been craving to go again. The other hobbits found him strange and sometimes said that he was mad. They didn't know where he had gone for over a year and where that gold rumours pretended he had came from. The occasional visits of dwarves did nothing to ease their suspicion but the hobbit couldn't care less.
He had, a few years ago, adopted his young nephew, Frodo Baggins and couldn't help sometimes to hope he would be as good an uncle to him as Thorin had been to Fili and Kili.

He still had the ring he had found in Gollum's cave and had never told anyone about it. It was always kept safe in his pocket, just in case he needed it again.

In the last letter he had gotten a couple of years ago, Balin announced him Bard's death, after a long and great life. He had been buried with honours by his people and his son had succeeded him.
He also told the hobbit that everything going good in Erebor and in the Iron Hills, the dwarves had decided to go and retake their lost kingdom of Moria, and he would be the one leading them there. From all the members of the company, only Ori was coming with him and he promised that he would write again soon to tell him how it went and beg him to come for a visit.

Bilbo had never gotten any more news since then, neither from Erebor nor from Moria but he wasn't worried : it had already happened that letters got lost in the long way to the Shire.

Today, on the eve of his one hundred and eleventh birthday, Bilbo knew that his time had come to go on his last journey. He was still extraordinary well for a hobbit his age, but he didn't want to take the risk to wait too long and finally not be able to make the trip anymore.
He longed to see Erebor and his friends again, he wanted to go back to the tombs of Thorin, his nephews and their captain. His captain, he thought with a little smile, never forgetting that she had made him a guard of Erebor. He longed to take the road again and everything was ready. Tomorrow at this hour, he would be gone.

He startled when he heard a knock on the door and rolled his eyes.

"No, thank you!" he exclaimed, expecting people to come and annoy him again. "We don't want any more visitors, well-wishers or distant relations!"

"And what about very old friends?" came a voice from outside the door.

Bilbo's eyes widened in shock then a huge smile appeared on his face. He set the portray of Luna aside and closed his book then hurriedly walked to the round door.

"Gandalf!" he exclaimed when the door opened on the wizard who was fondly looking at him.

"Bilbo Baggins"

"Dear Gandalf!"

The map showing the lonely mountain was still on the table next to the portray of the young girl and it felt at that precise moment as if they had suddenly gone back in time, sixty years ago, when by a beautiful day of Spring, the same wizard had unexpectedly come to take him in a life-changing adventure.

What he did not know however, and would never know, was that Gandalf's visit was only the beginning of a whole other journey that he had unknowingly started sixty years ago when he had picked up that ring in Gollum's cave.

But that, dear readers, is a whole other story that will one day find its place in Bilbo's book as well, when Frodo will relate his own great journey, but for us, it is time to take our leave and we shall part here, at the end of this quite unexpected adventure.

The End