Ever since Bilbo arrived in Rivendell without his ring, he felt anxious, like an encroaching darkness was overcoming him. He tried pushing the ring out of his mind, filling his time with writing, receiving visits from some old friends, making songs. But thoughts of the ring were always there, nagging him. Bilbo considered on more than one occasion if he should visit Frodo and check up on the ring, just to see how it was. Was Frodo taking good care of it? Was it being used the way it should? Was it even right for Bilbo to give it up? It was his, after all. He won it. It was his, fair and square. That Gollum character didn't deserve it anyway. Who was he anyway? A monster. Why should a monster such as Gollum deserve to own such a precious item? He didn't. No one did. No one but him. Yes, Bilbo deserved that ring. It was his. His precious ring. And he missed it dearly.
Then Frodo arrived. The ring was with him, Bilbo could sense it. The coldness gripped at his heart even more, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of the ring. If only he could just hold it one last time…
He didn't mean for it to happen. He just wanted to look at it, wear again. Then the coldness would ebb and his mind would be at ease. But before Bilbo even knew what was happening, he snapped at Frodo. His only family. The one he viewed as a son. The coldness around his heart seemed to ache, and thoughts of the ring were replaced with thoughts of regret as he flinched at Frodo's obvious fright. This is what the ring had made him. A monster. What overcame him? What darkness was this? The coldness gripped at his heart like a vice.
It was then that he knew. This ring, the ring that had held power over him for so long, would become his undoing if it was not destroyed. It was also then that he was hit with a revelation; this was Frodo's fate. This was what he needed to do, for both their sakes. For if Frodo did not destroy the ring, the ring would destroy them both. But the only thing that Bilbo wished was that this burden, this weight, was not Frodo's to bear. That Bilbo had not condemned his son to this fate. That he had not condemned his son to death. But he had, and this was now Bilbo's burden to bear. Sorrow joined the coldness gripping his heart as he looked into Frodo's eyes, studying them, memorizing them, knowing it would likely be the last time he would see the boy again. His son. His boy. And although Frodo was still standing in front of him, Bilbo could not help but feel that he had just lost the best thing that ever happened to him. And that grief far outweighed any coldness the ring set into his heart.
Hey friends! So I actually wrote this for a Tumblr post (in case you somehow stumble across that and recognize it) and decided, "What the hey, why not just put this on fanfiction?" So yeah, here it is! I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for any OOCness. I've always found writing LotR characters to be difficult.
And any of you who hate me for not updating my other stories; I'm so sorry. But don't worry. They're not abandoned. They will be completed!
Anyway, favorite or leave a review with thoughts on the fic! They're greatly appreciated.