And so we come to the end. I hope you enjoyed it :) And if you didn't..ah, well, sorry. Peace
Of Mountains and Woodlands Chapter 15
Thorin sat alone on the peak of his mountain, on the very tip top where nobody could see him. It was from there that he watched the Nymph's of Nirvara depart through the gates of Lake Town, with Maya carried above them the day she died. He had been up there every day since, at the same time more or less, discreetly hoping that the gates would re-open and "someone" would jump out shouting "SURPRISE!" and everything would be as it should have been. Alas, no such thing occurred and the thought eventually waned and disappeared. It was a mighty moment to admit that it was only a thought but Thorin felt a little less trapped everyday he reminded himself of that. Days stretched on into months and Erebor was growing more beautiful every day. He had assigned Bilbo the task of…not hiding, but merely placing the arkenstone in a vault where no one would be able to get to it without his or Bilbo's permission. Thorin was surprised by Bilbo's sass one such day when he declared that he was going to set eyes on the stone, just to make sure all of what was around him was true but Bilbo stopped him and told him that he would need the key. When Thorin had asked him for it, the little Hobbit promptly said "No" and left Thorin with an empty hand outstretched to receive a gift that never came and a feeling of annoyance, amusement and bemusement all at once. He accepted it however, coming to the conclusion it was for the best. Of course Bilbo didn't keep the key; it wasn't his to keep, so he gave it to Balin. In knowledge of that, Thorin never asked for it again.
Bilbo had not yet left either, as one would come to realise. He had stayed on after all that had happened, and Thorin was glad that he did. Bilbo had come to be a true, honest and loyal friend, much like Bard oddly enough. Maya would have laughed at such an outcome and that thought made him chuckle. Bilbo had organised much of the proceedings in his stead when Thorin could barely walk from grief and his nephews, Fili and Kili…well they tried extremely hard to be stronger than they should ever have been given the task to be. They were still young and childish but Thorin was proud of how they rose to the challenge of being King(s) when Thorin would not. They did well, too! They ruled together for that time and so it was truly astounding to realise that they could never be just Fili and just Kili. It didn't take long for them to go back to normal as soon as Thorin was himself once more though; nor did it take long for everyone else to find their old positions and ranks amongst each other. Erebor was ultimately, as it should have been.
Gandalf had long since gone, having his business back in the West with the White Wizard. Thorin didn't suppose he'd ever see Gandalf again and for some odd reason, the thought didn't pain him.
Bilbo and Thorin sat together one night, nowhere near Thorin's tip top peak of the Lonely Mountain – that, he would forever keep to himself - and looked out over Lake Town, it's sparkling lake and the thick canopy of the forest. Bilbo was smoking his pipe same as Thorin was smoking his, content in their comfortable silence as friends. The moon had been exceptionally large over the past fort night and but that night it seemed to lose a little size. Thorin pointed that out in a sort of grunt. Bilbo nodded and grunted his reply, somewhere along the lines of "Yes, it is smaller isn't it, oh well,"
Oh well. Thorin then spoke properly. He quite suddenly remembered what Maya had said to him: Maybe there is no end.
"What does that mean?" Bilbo shifted in his position to face Thorin who squinted back at him through his puffs of smoke.
"I'm asking you?"
"Oh, right," he turned back to look over the landscape, narrowing his eyes as if in thought but he never actually gave Thorin an answer. It didn't bother Thorin anyway, he felt like he already knew what it meant…just, being able to put it into words would have been handy. The next morning, Bilbo came to him while he and the other twelve members of the company were in council. All rose upon his entrance and every shoulder seemed to drop a little when they saw his pack upon his back and his walking stick in hand,
"I think it's time I took my leave, King Thorin,"
"Thorin will do. It always has, Halfling,"
"Well then, Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur…Bombur…everyone," Bilbo gestured to them all, "It truly has been a pleasure and one of the most exciting adventures of my life,"
The Hobbit paused for a moment, contemplating what he was going to say next. For once, (Thorin took a moment to realise) all those whose turn it wasn't to speak, waited patiently and in silence for Bilbo's next few words. This was what Bilbo had come to mean to them; a friend worthy of patience and silence.
"I – uhm," Bilbo swallowed, choking back emotion, "I don't know if I'll be seeing you all again but in case I don't, I wish you all the best with Erebor, all the luck in the world," he winked a tearful eyelid at Bofur who grinned sullenly, "and all the peace this life can finally find the time to offer you,"
He nodded at Thorin and suddenly the Dwarf King felt a pang of hurt, his heart skipping a beat: Peace. Yes, finally it was in his grasp and he could finally reach it and tuck it away for Maya's passing had been the final stunt of pain that he had to get up from. The fact that he felt saddened by Bilbo's leaving was a victory more than a taunt. He was still very much alive in heart and soul and this hurt wasn't as bad. After all, Bilbo wasn't dead; he was simply going on, as were they all. He bowed and offered a small smile instead of all the other embraces, congratulations and good wishes he was given. It was enough and so Bilbo left Erebor, the dwarves and their King behind. Thorin found himself out on the balcony with the rest of his kin watching as Bilbo left through the gates: first a dot, then a shadow and then gone. As it happened, Thorin saw Bilbo multiple times after that for the city of Erebor came in to an alliance with one of the other leading dwarf cities and that, as luck would have it, was directly south of the Shire so in order to meet each other, one would have to travel through the Shire. Bilbo was dumfounded, to say the least, when Balin, Thorin and of course Fili and no less Kili turned up on his door step. The little man fainted, just like old times.
OoOoOoOoOoO
When Bilbo left, he felt liberated, saddened, overjoyed and completely shattered all at the same time. He had made some of the best friends he could ever ask for and became part of a greater legend than he could ever have dreamed of but then he also experienced the loss of one those friends and the legend was over and it was time to make a long, dull journey all the way back home with three other travellers who he barely spoke too and having listened in on their talks around the campfire…wasn't impressed with anyway and so he stopped feeling obligated to speak to them. They were terribly boring, lifeless people. He often found himself far behind or far ahead of the group, though never losing sight of them, he knew his way home, he remembered every step of it, but there was no way in the undying lands that he was going to make the trek alone if he could avoid it, but his alone time gave him the chance to truly think.
Maybe there is no end – what does that mean? He pondered and wondered and thought and counted his fingers, wiggled his bare toes and pondered some more. Trust Maya to lay a thought provoking phrase on the table next to her deathbed.
Bilbo slapped his hand over his face,
"EVERYTHING ends! It has too," he said aloud to himself, "It can't not end! What happens after that? Black, stars…black and stars? You die, you get lain in the ground and that's the end of it. Finished. Done. Over. I'm talking to myself, my goodness, Mister Baggins, you're going mad,"
He glanced around to make sure no one had heard his ramblings to find that his companions were far behind him still. He opted to never speak aloud again. It was a terrible choice he never lived up too.
The journey was long and boring and due to the lack of favourable company, it was sad too. But he said goodbye and gave thanks to his traveling trio and opened his Hobbit Hole door to find everything as it was except…the kettle was on, an empty tea cup was placed on the brink of his kitchen table and a tall, pointy hat was placed on the corner of his living room chair. He smiled; Gandalf was the perfect person he wanted to see. When the wizard came round the corner from the pantry with cheese and biscuits to find Bilbo, he winked,
"I heard you coming up the path to the door so I thought I might get us some biscuits. I finished your tea, unknowingly I must admit. I do apologise,"
"That's alright," Bilbo dropped his bag and pulled out a small box with elaborate pictures all over it, "Dwarfish tea, a gift from Balin,"
He went straight to the kitchen to put it on. When he returned, Gandalf had made himself comfortable again, having started a small fire and snacking on a biscuit. Bilbo sat down in his favourite chair, relishing in its long missed comfort, he sighed,
"I don't suspect I'll be able to sleep tonight,"
"Oh, I suspect you will. I have informed no one of your return so you may enjoy a good sleep tomorrow too," Gandalf smiled warmly and took another bite, "I have also received word that your sister has given birth to a little boy, Frodo, I think his name is,"
Bilbo let out a laugh of joy, surprise, hearth and home, what a wonderful piece of news that was,
"Then I shall not sleep at all, I will eagerly anticipate the morning and go straight on,"
"As you will, then perhaps we should go together,"
"Perhaps we should,"
They shared a quiet chuckle and returned to a comfortable silence.
"Gandalf, do you remember when…Maya…said…"
"Maybe there is no end," he quoted, "Yes; indeed I do, my dear Bilbo,"
"What did she mean, do you think?"
"Oh, I think she meant a great deal. I suppose it was up to those who cared to think on it to decide,"
"Thorin asked me what I thought it meant but I truly don't know,"
"Hmm, you might," he shifted for comfort, "Thorin most definitely understands,"
"Do you understand?"
"In my own way,"
"Tell me,"
"No, I don't think I will,"
"Have it your way then," Bilbo turned back to the fire and thought some more until it all seemed to come crashing down upon him, deep and soulful though it was, it made sense.
Death could possibly be another beginning, a recycling if you will, of a life that has already been lived. Some might dare call it immortality but that's not quite right. That would be saying that death is impossible rather than a very real threat. Then again it's not a threat; it is simply…another road; infinite seemed to suite that part better: a refusal to just simply die rather than to accept your fate whether it is horribly unfair or tremendously overdone. But then is it possible to accept that you cannot win and die whilst refusing to be just another useless soul in an afterlife no one is sure exists? Or was that what it was…to accept death and to go bravely on into the dark in hopes that there was something on the other side, to go on another adventure to find out who is brave enough to look and who isn't. Ah, yes, maybe there is no end.
Bilbo smiled; Maya was very brave then because the more he thought the more the thought of taking death on as a separate adventure seemed less and less appealing. He would love another adventure someday but for now, he was very, very happy with sitting in front of the fire with Gandalf. He chuckled proudly to himself, unconsciously pushing his chest out as it swelled with pride in his latest revelation,
"My dear Gandalf, home is a lovely place, isn't it,"
"Indeed, Mister Baggins,"
And…that was all.
Coming and going
Without beginning or end
Like ever changing white clouds
The heart of things
Rengetsu