Morning came with pleasant song and the smell of breakfast in the kitchen. Bilbo blinked once then twice as he awoke, letting the warmth of the sun coat his face. He looked about, rather surprised to find himself still in his room in Valinor. Did not Eru Illvatar grant him passage to undo the wrongs that had been done?

But then again, perhaps the All Father as the Dwarves had called him was wise enough to know a journey of such significance should not be attempted on an empty stomach. A good breakfast was vital to one maintaining good stamina. Even the dwarves, as anxious to get on their way as they had been, had seen to that.

The dwarves...

As Bilbo rose from his bed and grasped his clothing, his thoughts wandered to the past. The first time he had joined the people of Durin on their quest. Oh, as frightening as it was to ponder, for the details of the perils of the journey had not faded with time, his heart ached ever more to see them all again. To see Oin, Ori, Balin, Fili, Kili...Thorin...

Alive again.

Bilbo took a heavy breath as he sat to gather his knapsack and paused in mid movement.

His hands did not shake as much and indeed, he could not see the ever present age spots that he had grown accustomed to over the years. There was still wrinkling, still the stretching age of the body that could not be avoided. Yet, there was less of it. As he tensed his hand into a tight fist, the muscles did not protest nearly as much as they should have.

More than a little frantic, Bilbo snagged the nearby pitcher and with shaking hands poured a sampling into the bedside bowl. As soon as the sloshing of liquid settled and a reflection was found, he gazed downward.

Hair that was grey but not yet white. Skin stretched thin but not yet wrinkled. Strength and vigor behind eyes he had not seen in years. Not since that fateful one hundred and eleventh birthday.

He was younger. Not in his prime by any stretch of definition but younger. Stronger. More full of stamina.

"By Yavanna's leaves..."

Dropping his thoughts, Bilbo rushed towards the sitting hall, calling frantically, "Frodo! Frodo, my lad!"

Obedient as always, the boy reappeared from a seat out on the balcony, the waves of the sea still audible in the wind behind him. Before another word could be said, Frodo's face spoke all. His hands went to his mouth and skin grew ashen.

"It is true what I see then?" Bilbo inquired. "I have not slipped into the madness that would plague the old as death calls upon them?"

Shaking his head, Frodo answered, with voice rough with weariness and shock. "No Uncle. You are...as you were on the night you left the Shire. Right when you dropped the ring from your keeping. It is as if time itself has been rewound for you, called backward upon itself."

Slumping into a nearby chair, the old hobbit's mind swirled before he looked up with absolution in his eyes. "Lady Vána."

Frodo blinked once, twice, thrice. "Lady Yavanna's sister?"

"Aye, lad. The Ever-Young as she is sometimes called." Rising to his feet again, Bilbo stumbled into the kitchen taking ample samples of fruit, breads and meats as he went. "I was blessed with her presence last night as I took in these lands one last time and she gave a kiss to me—several in fact." He laughed, brightly. "I would expect as much from a Vala based in youth. Loopholes and roundabouts and methods of bending rules are the lifeblood of the young."

Frodo just stood there, waiting. "She...has such ability?"

"I doubt it would be from another, my boy." Swallowing, he turned and his heart dropped. He should have expected his nephew was hoping he might change his mind and with this advantage now granted, there was no possibility. Bilbo's heart would have never allowed him to rescind once he had made up his mind but his physical body was another matter. With that obstacle gone, there was no turning back and the terror was clear on the younger hobbit's face. "Frodo, my dear boy." Bilbo approached, lay both hands on his nephew's shoulders. "Do not let fear dictate your heart."

"How can I not, Uncle?" He demanded though without much bite. "I know your heart commands you and I will not strive to sway it. But I fear for you, all the same. I do not doubt your courage or your heart but..you are dear to me." He looked up. "You know this."

Bilbo leaned forward and rested his forehead on Frodo's as he had seen Thorin do with his own nephews many a time. "I do not wish to part from you, my dear boy but if I should succeed at this and spare you great pain that you carry without reason. I must try. If I could spare a mother the loss of her children, her brother, then I must try."

Frodo reached out and lay a hand over his relative's heart. "And if you might spare a dear friend the pain of being unable to save them, despite having done all he could?"

Bilbo bit his lower lip. "Yes. Yes. If I might..." he shook his head. "Do not despair, my lad. If you can endure as much as you have, the odds are good for me!"

Frodo allowed a smile. Uncle was so like Sam at times. It was a pleasant reminder. "Not much can damper your spirits, can it, Uncle?"

Bilbo gave a soft smile "Not if I can help it. Now, would you be so kind as to join me for breakfast before I set off?"

Frodo gathered a plate and quickly filled it up.

OOO

Bilbo wasn't sure who he expected to see when he emerged from the small house he and Frodo had come to accompany but seeing a gathering of elves and Gandalf should not have surprised him. All the same, it was nice to see some familiar faces.

Lady Galadriel as always greeted him with her warm smile. "Are you prepared, Bilbo Baggins of Erebor?"

That caught him off guard. Every other person that he had been given a title from always said "of the Shire" which certainly was understandable. Yet he could not help but smile at the notion. Perhaps, in another lifetime, he might have been blessed with such a title. He bowed to her lightly.

Her voice echoed in his mind. Go with stout heart, dear Bilbo. There is much you have possibility to alter, in more ways than you may fathom. Trust in your heart; it shall not lead you astray.

Bilbo lifted his eyes and she held out her hand, uncoiling her fingers for him. Within her palm sat a clear phial, shimmering with untapped light. Bilbo took it from her with reverence. "You bless me to trust me with something so valuable, my Lady."

Galadriel smiled again, warm sunlight cutting through morning dew. "Your kin guarded it well and returned it unto me unscathed." Frodo, standing just behind, bowed his head lightly. "So I say to you, Bilbo Baggins, as I said to Frodo—May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out." She rose to her full height. "You May find the Light of Eärendil to be a guiding light in more ways than one."

With a nod, Bilbo turned to the remaining group—Elrond and Gandalf. The Elf Lord seemed more reluctant than Galadriel but then she had always had more insight than he. All the same, he gave a half smile. "I bid you the best of journeys, Bilbo Baggins. It appears Lady Vána has already given a gift to you."

Adjusting his knapsack, Bilbo remarked "Aye, a most unexpected but welcomed aid, I can assure you. Would you be so kind as to give her my thanks, Lord Elrond?"

"I am sure she is aware of it but I will extend it to her, all the same." Elrond advised, "Be cautious, Bilbo Baggins. Amending the past is rarely done and small things—beyond what we can comprehend—May be undone."

Bilbo gave a nod. "Wise counsel, Lord Elrond. I seek to correct that which should never have come to pass, but I will go with caution about my steps."

At long last, Bilbo turned to Gandalf. "My dear friend," the hobbit began. " I asked it if you once and you did not fail me so I will ask it again. Would you—"

"Two eyes," Gandalf answered with a warm look at Frodo. "As often as I might spare them." The wizard knelt and as Galadriel had done, he extended a hand. When he unveiled it, Bilbo found himself looking upon a white blade tip, though it held no hilt. "Time is short, even for the Valar," Gandalf advised "But Lord Aulë was insistent."

Bilbo took the blade with care before wrapping it and placing it in his knapsack. "I hope he is not offended that I know little of blades."

"I'd say he was quite aware." The wizard replied. "Yet he was insistent that you would know when it was needed. I know not what secrets Mandos whispered in his ears or if he merely has faith in you. But I trust you to know when it is right, my dear friend."

Bilbo gave a nod then turned and opened his arms. Frodo wasted no time in rushing into them and Bilbo pulled him close. "No fear, my lad. This will be over and done soon enough and I will return with a better life set out for you."

Frodo nodded against his chest and after a moment, he pulled away. "Go with care, Uncle and never forget that you have my love."

"Always, my dear boy."

Galadriel approached, gently placed her fingers on Frodo's shoulders and mused in her musical tone "Come, dear Frodo."

It was nearly impossible to ignore that gentle command so the younger Hobbit turned with her and after a moment delay, Elrond did the same, leaving only Bilbo and Gandalf standing amid the lapping waves.

For a moment, they just stared upon one another then Gandalf said, "The bravery of Hobbits puts the feats of Men, Elf and Dwarf to shame."

Bilbo did not answer that. He only stood a little taller. "Thank you, Gandalf, for everything."

The wizard leaned on his staff. "I told your nephew not all that long ago that the fate of many may lie in your pity. Now it seems that once again the heart of a hobbit may rule us all." The aged man gazed down at Bilbo with an unwearied face. "Yet that causes me more comfort than concern. Your heart did not fail you before. Nor did Frodo's. I have no doubt, my friend, that it will not break form now."

Turning, Gandalf raised his arm to the sea and called out a few words in a language long since dead to all but a scarce few, even among the eldest of Valinor. A low rumble began amid the waves before they rose and spun in a circular pattern, leaving a dark tunnel of deep water and foam before them. There was naught to be seen more than three feet ahead; the condensation of water let little sunlight in.

It was a magnificent sight.

Gandalf coughed lightly. "Our Lord Eru Ilúvatar has always had an...enjoyment of the theatrical."

Bilbo smiled, despite the fear in his gut. "As well he should. With such beauty sung into being, I dare say that I would show it off some too."

The hobbit inhaled, held the scent of Valinor in his lungs for as long as he could then slowly stepped forward, the swirling waters gave support to his weight and the image ahead stayed firm and dark. Was this another test of trust? Anyone knew that hobbits were not fond of water and after what happened with Frodo's parents, Bilbo in particular, was less comfortable around anything larger than a river unless it be from a distance.

The deeper he walked, the colder it became but his heart grew lighter. Each step was another step towards his old dear friends and another step towards fixing that which went awry. Hope kindled in his breast and he held it there like a gem.

Zurnî adjân sabk, 'ata khuluk d' adruf.

Bilbo turned, eyes wide because he knew Khuzdul when he heard it even if the words meant little to him. More important than that, he knew that trembling baritone.

"Thorin?"

Then the tunnel closed in about him and consciousness fled him.