Desolation. Death. Fire.Fire in the mountain.Bilbo woke from sleep, clad in sweat like an elven prince of Gondolin in Mithril. The hobbit carefully opened his eyes. It was all dark. The fireplace had gone out, and only small embers were illuminating the room. Bilbo rolled over again and tried to go to sleep again. But images kept flashing in his head. Images of dank caves with slimy beasts and images of the finest dwarf he had ever met calling him a traitor. And, of course, the fire.
Bilbo had never gotten over the fire. It had scorched his heart and left a black spot that could never heal. Even the embers of the fireplace or the campfires in the neighborhood terrified him. But Bilbo Beutlin was a Took, and so he stood up from his bed and made his way to the pantry of his hobbit hole.
"Bread", he murmured to himself, "and milk and honey. Something that brings up good memories." And indeed, it did bring up good memories, of a bear that held bees far beyond reasonable size. Bilbo buttered as much honey on his bread as he could. Then he poured the rest of the honey into the milk and drank it all in one go. The hobbit chuckled. "If Dwalin could see you now, Mr. Beutlin, how proud would he be of you?"
But then he saw a campfire in the hills next to Bag's End, and all the terror came rushing back to Bilbo.
It had been eight months since a curious looking wizard showed up at his doorstep and asked him what he meant by good morning. Six months of journeying with dwarves. Trolls. Orks. Slimy creatures in the deep. Wargs. Spiders. Bilbo had seen all these things, a lot closer than necessary in his opinion. But none of these were even half as terrifying as the great Smaug. Not only had the dragon been the reason for Bilbo's journey, he also had been the reason thousand of people lost their homes and their lives. No, Bilbo corrected himself, we were. I was. He had to play riddles with a dragon, he, the grand Bilbo Baggins from the shire, and had Bard not been there, Smaug would have laid destruction on the people of Escargoth.
And then his treason. Bilbo giving away the Arkenstone was a very fine thing to do, no question, but he had not taken it for those fine reasons, but for his own greed. And in the final battle? Bilbo had just been as useless as ever. Had he not fainted within the first seconds of the battle, maybe he could've saved Thori-
Knock. Knock. Someone was knocking on the door with a stick. "If I come to help you at this unwholesome hour, then hurry to open the door, Bilbo Baggins!" The hobbit was in shock for a second, then he rushed for the door. "Gandalf!", he yelled happily. "What a lovely surprise! But why do you visit so early in the morning?" Gandalf smiled mysteriously and ducked so that he could fit through the door. "My dear Bilbo. A wizard never arrives early in the morning or late in the morning, he arrives when he is needed." Bilbo was dumbfolded, but he led Gandalf into the living room (unnecessarily, because Gandalf, of course, had been here already) and told him to "sit down while I get you some cake and red wine." This time Gandalf smiled solemnly and stretched his legs.
When the hobbit returned with two caraway cakes and one glass of his best red wine, the smoke had already overtaken the ceiling, and the only thing indicating Gandalfs position was a red glow from the tip of the pipe. Bilbo flinched. "I-I've got the cake." He put down the tray on the table and started cutting the cakes. "Bilbo, we need to have a little talk.", a voice said from the mist. Bilbo shuddered what Gandalf would want to talk about. "What about, Gandalf? If you need me for another adventure, I'm in retirement." Bilbo grinned awkwardly. Gandalfs voice from the mist put out the pipe and then began speaking: "That you are, and it certainly is best that way. You've seen more danger than any hobbit ever should, and I though I doubt not your mental strength, I'm still worried."
"Worried? About what, Gandalf? I've got myself set up pretty nicely here, and it's not like another wizard could show up at my porch and convince me to come onto an adventure with him." Bilbo chuckled, almost forgetting the feeling of hot air on his skin and the smell of the battlefield.
"Bilbo, I have known you for some time now, and we have always been honest to each other." Bilbo touched the ring in his pocket. The wizard continued his speech: "You are mighty troubled these days, and you have every right to be. But I do not want my burglar to be bothered for things I pulled him into. It's already bad enough you took the blame for the arkenstone-szenario. No hobbit should have to live with a constant fear, and especially not one so dear to me."
Bilbo jumped in: "So you know of my fear? Will you use your magic to make it disappear?" The smoke had cleared up, and Bilbo saw a warm smile on Gandalfs face. "Magic does not work this way, Bilbo. No, if you want to get rid of this fear, you need to do it yourself. I will only assist you in doing so, and by no means with magic."
Gandalf stayed at Bilbos house for over twenty days. Slowly, he helped the hobbit with his fears, summoning small illusions of them and then making them so ridiculous that Bilbo couldn't help but laugh. Finally, after dozens of those illusions, Bilbo decided that he was ready for the real world again. "Gandalf, I do not know how to thank you. Had you not helped me, I would have lived my entire life in fear. You truly are the best friend any hobbit could ever have." Gandalf reignited his pipe and gave the hobbit his most mysterious smile. Then he laughed and said: "My dead Bilbo. You need not repay me, because the happiness of a friend is more payment than you could ever bring up. I will leave you alone now, but do not worry. I will come back, time and time again, to visit my dearest friend." And with these words he ducked and went out the door, and seconds later he was gone." Bilbo chuckled, then he began singing.
"The road goes ever on and on, out from the door where it begun. And who knows? Maybe I will go out of this door and into a new adventure another time. Heh."
More than sixty years had passed, and Bilbo finally took another step. "Thirdly and finally, I wish to make an announcement. I regret to announce that — though, as I said, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to spend among you — this is the end. I am going. I am leaving now. Good-bye!" And he took a step of the pedestal and into a new adventure.