April 25, TA 2941
A young golden-haired hobbit sighed as he looked over another farmer's report for the season. Briefly skimming through the paper, his blue eyes lazily dragged from left to right before settling on the total numbers at the bottom of the page. With nothing amiss, he lightly scrunched his nose before signing his name on the bottom.
"Grandfather, here's the last report for the day," he said as he stood up from his small desk to approach the Thain, Gerontius 'Old' Took, "I should probably take my leave now, grandfather, before it gets too dark. I can return tomorrow after elevenses if you need me?" He offered with a small smile. A walk from Tookborough to Hobbiton was a lengthy walk as it is, but Bilbo didn't have the heart to leave his grandfather alone with all the papers strewn around his office.
"Ah, yes, yes." The Old took nodded as he absentmindedly set the paper on his own desk, "Bilbo, my boy, you should take the day off tomorrow and relax." He gestured to the numerous signed papers on his desk, "You've done enough as it is."
Bilbo tilted his head, "Are you sure? We haven't managed to make a dent with those papers Lord Elrond has sent us nor those from the Blue Mountains."
The Thain shook his hand, "What is one day? It'll do you some good to relax once in a while."
The boy gave out an amused smile as he watched the elder man stand up, "Plus, I am still the Thain, my boy. You may be my heir, but I still have a few years before you can take up the mantle!" He laughed as he approached the boy.
Gerontius sighed as he cupped Bilbo's cheeks with both hands, "I'm sure you're tired of hearing this," he spoke softly, "But you have your mother's angelic face."
Bilbo giggled, "I know, grandfather. And my dad's respectable manners!"
"Oh, Bungo. He would be proud of what you've become." He smiled before he hesitated, "You have your father's eyes… or so my dear Bella has said."
The boy wilted, "Or so she did."
The pair was silent for a moment before Old Took spoke once more, "You know, I wouldn't blame you if you traveled to the Blue Mountains or even to the Iron Hills to search for your father, Bilbo. He's out there somewhere and he deserves to know." He gave the boy a knowing look.
Bilbo raised one hand to touch his grandfather's hand resting on his cheek before he stepped away. "Why? I have my own life, grandfather. I grew up nearly forty years without him and I'm happy with what I am." He smiled.
Old Took nodded, "If you say so, my boy. Now if I see your curly hair anywhere near here tomorrow, I swear I'll box your ears!" he laughed.
With a fond eye roll, the young hobbit turned to wear his coat, "I'll see you next time, grandfather!"
Exiting from the Grand Smial, Bilbo Baggins let out a soft sigh as he began his walk back to Hobbiton. It was already late afternoon, way past tea time, but the young boy was determined to get back home hopefully before dinner. If not, he would have to make do with supper and have a heavy breakfast tomorrow to make up for his missed meals.
Not really minding his surroundings, Bilbo took out his necklace which he kept hidden inside his shirt and waistcoat. Hanging from the necklace was a silver bead, one passed on to him by his mother, which supposedly belonged to his real father – a dwarf.
Now, Bilbo doesn't know the entire story of how he came to be. All his mother, Belladonna Baggins née Took, had mentioned was that back when she went on adventures on her own outside of the Shire, she had met a handsome dwarf while she was staying at Bree. Apparently, one thing led to another and so began his life.
Belladonna mentioned that it was only one night, a happenstance fun! And that when she woke up, the dwarf was long gone, taking with him her beloved embroidered handkerchief, and only leaving the silver bead by her bedside. She said his name was Thorin, who introduced himself as a traveling dwarf.
Bilbo may not have grown up with his real father, who obviously didn't know he existed, but he grew up with Bungo Baggins, his dad who was utterly and deeply in love with his mother despite her being pregnant when she returned to the Shire. Bungo loved him like a true father and taught him everything he knew, from reading and writing to learning languages and collecting maps. Bungo loved him and his mother so much that he joined their little family adventures to Rivendell to visit Belladonna's elf friends from time to time.
Upon reaching Bag-End, the home his dad built to show his love for his mother, Bilbo neatly tucked the necklace back to his shirt and gave it a soft pat. His real father may not have known he existed, but he did. He knew some things about him, perks of being Lord Elrond's favorite ward, and Bilbo liked to believe that it was for the best that the dwarf should continue to live his life without knowing about him. He was, after all, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, the Prince – or was it King – Under the Mountain, Heir to the throne of Erebor. He had enough burden on his shoulders, what with his home being taken by a dragon, and struggling to provide for his own people, and he already had his own heirs whom he loved and doted on.
It was clear to Bilbo that there was no space for him in the life of his father. Knowing that his father was alive and healthy was enough for him.
Bilbo smiled as he puffed out a smoke ring. The ring merrily floated before being swept by the breeze that graced such a wonderful day. It was his day off from responsibilities and the boy was quite content with spending his morning sitting in front of his garden with his pipe and a small amount of Old Toby.
Blue eyes closed as he surrounded himself with the sounds of nature. It was such a rare day that there were no little fauntlings running around the road nor were there any meddling relatives to invite themselves to some tea. 'Such a good morning indeed,' he thought as he swung his smaller than average hobbit feet in glee.
"Bilbo Baggins! You are not of age to smoke!" Ah, there goes his morning.
Bilbo frowned as he gazed upon a grey cloaked man with long grey hair and grey beard, as well as a pointy grey hat that was utterly ridiculous to look at, if he did say so himself. "Good morning, godfather!"
His godfather, Gandalf the Grey, shook his head in mirth, "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or that you feel good on this morning? Or that it is a morning to be good on?" he tilted his head, "Well, Bilbo Baggins?"
Bilbo offhandedly waved his pipe around, "All of them at once, I suppose? Well, before you arrived, that is." He raised his pipe to his smirking lips.
"Again, you are not of age to smoke!" Gandalf scolded, "By the Valar, Belladonna would have my beard if she saw you!"
The hobbit chuckled as he stood up to open his gate and gestured for the wizard to come in, "I am of age! Hobbit's come of age at 33, remember?" He raised his eyebrow in amusement as he opened his door. "Lucky for you, godfather, I have freshly brewed tea and biscuits."
Gandalf rolled his eyes as he laid down his hat and staff before moving to the kitchen, "But you are not just a hobbit," he pointed to his small feet and slightly taller than an average hobbit height, "You are also a dwarf!"
Bilbo scrunched his nose as he set down the tray on the table where Gandalf sat, "If you're pointing out blood relations, I am part hobbit, part elf, and half dwarf." He dryly stated, "But that's neither here nor there, what are you doing back so soon, Gandalf?"
The wizard reached out to pick a biscuit before he gazed upon his godchild, "I am looking for someone to share an adventure." He smiled before popping the biscuit into his mouth.
Bilbo snorted, "Good luck with that. I wouldn't imagine anyone being interested in such nasty things. The only one probably mad enough to join you would have been my mother," he took a sip of his cup, "And well… You should try the Men at Bree instead."
"Ah, Belladonna." Gandalf sighed wistfully.
He and Belladonna were such good friends before. In fact, it was because of him that the young hobbit lass grew the courage to leave the Shire in the first place. Gandalf took her to see Rivendell, where she met Lord Elrond, and a few cities of Men somewhere along Gondor and Rohan. Belladonna choosing Gandalf as Bilbo's Godfather was a testament of their close friendship, as well as telling him of Bilbo's real parentage. He felt such deep sorrow when he arrived back at Hobbiton during the Fell Winter with the Rangers and Elves to find out that he was too late to save Belladonna and Bungo, now all he had left was Bilbo.
"I was hoping that you would join me, my boy." He nodded to the golden-haired boy.
"Me?" Bilbo frowned, "Now you're just pulling my leg, Gandalf."
"Does it look like I traveled all the way here to tell a joke?"
"I have responsibilities here with Old Took!" He said when he realized that his godfather was being serious, "And I am to travel back to Rivendell in a few weeks! Lord Elrond will be worried if I don't arrive as scheduled."
"You go to Rivendell every year!" Gandalf frowned, "This adventure will be led by your father – your real father! This is your chance to meet him, Bilbo."
At the mention of his father, Bilbo grew silent.
"You have changed, Bilbo Baggins, son of Thorin, and not entirely for the better."
"I beg your pardon, godfather, but I didn't change. I am still the same as I have been all these years."
"Are you?" he raised a brow, "I once knew of a boy who longed to meet his father, who asked the Elves to teach him how to wield a sword, who learned how to speak Khuzdul from the few books in Rivendell, who learned how to carve and use the forge in hopes of understanding his father's culture."
Bilbo pursed his lips but kept silent. "Are you that same boy?" Gandalf questioned.
"He doesn't even know I exist." He said softly in defeat.
"And that is something we cannot change. What we can do is tell him about you when the time is right."
"When the time is right?"
The wizard nodded, "When the time is right. Of course, I wouldn't say anything, it would be up to you. I will respect your decision on whether or not you tell him the truth – that he has a son."
Bilbo stayed silent for a moment, "And if I don't? If I finish the adventure and return home without telling him?"
Now it was Gandalf's turn to be silent, "… Then I will respect your decision."
Bilbo grimaced before he poured the both of them a new cup of tea from the pot, "What is this adventure anyway? Mind you, Lord Elrond will have your beard if I get hurt." He joked as a way to move their discussion.
Gandalf chuckled, "I can't tell you the entirety. I will leave that to your father and his company to say when they arrive tonight for dinner. What I can say is that it is a quest to hopefully reclaim their home – your home."
"Tonight?! Dinner?!"
He nodded, "I hope you have enough food for 13 dwarrows and 1 wizard." He winked before he finished his tea and stood up. "Now, I must get going. I will talk to the Thain for you and set your papers in order. Just worry about the food, my dear boy." He smiled as he took his staff and hat.
"Wait, 13? Gandalf! You could have sent me a letter ahead of time!"
Bilbo huffed in annoyance as he watched Gandalf close his front door. "Aren't you going to help me cook?!" he crossed his arms.
Running a hand to smoothen his waistcoat, Bilbo sighed before reaching for his parents' portraits to hide them temporarily. 'Wish me luck, I guess?' he thought as he tucked them in his mother's glory box.
He didn't want to hide his parents' identities, but he was firm in his decision not to tell his father of his true parentage. If, and only if, he were to travel with them on this mysterious adventure of theirs, it would be the best for everyone not to know who he is. After all, who knows what would happen if his father were to know the truth? He might just demand that he should return to the Shire to keep him safe.
Making one final sweep of the house to make sure he didn't forget anything, he thought back to the times he would try to catch glimpses of his father around Bree. For a mighty dwarf King, he was not afraid to work hard to make money for his people. Bilbo could remember watching his father work as a smith to earn a few coins, along with his trusted friends and kin – which is why he knew of the two young dwarrows that would accompany his father from time to time. Although he did not know their names, he knew that they were his father's sister's-sons.
"Now that everything is clean and arranged, let me prepare the food." He smiled as he moved to the kitchen filled to the brim with cooked food. Roasted chickens, fried fish, pies of varying flavors, cinnamon rolls topped with extra frosting, sandwiches packed with meat and vegetables, as well as some of his smoked ham and bacon were ready for consumption. He even prepared a few cheese blocks just in case.
Setting the table for a total of fourteen occupants, himself excluded, he hummed in satisfaction before going to his second pantry to fetch a keg of Gaffer's home brew, courtesy of Hamfast himself.
"Hopefully this is enough," Bilbo huffed as he looked at his arrangements, "And that Bag-End will be standing by the end of the night." He softly continued as he dreaded the rambunctious manners of dwarrows. Patting his necklace, he shook his head, 'Oh well…'
As if sensing that a feast was ready, the doorbell rang.
"Well, at least this one's punctual." Bilbo smiled as he went to open the door. His smile dropped as he took in the taller and bigger figure of the bald, heavily tattooed dwarf in front of him.
"Dwalin, at yer service." Dwalin made a half-bow, most likely as a show of mock respect before standing back to his full height.
"B-Bilbo Baggins, at yours and your family." Bilbo replied as he took in the intimidating figure. The tattoos and big muscles hidden by his traveling cloak reminded him that this was the friend who usually accompanied his father to Bree. Blue eyes gazed upon the twin axes latched on his back, "Please, come in! Um, if you wouldn't mind taking off your boots and setting your bigger weapons inside this crate, dinner is ready!"
Dwalin hummed in reply as he reluctantly followed the smaller figure's orders. 'Really fussy, that one.' He thought as he watched his host tend to his needs.
He followed Bilbo to the table and was shocked to see the table full of food – cooked food – and drinks. 'It's been a long time since any of us has been treated to such a feast,' he thought before turning to the lad. "On behalf of our company, thank you for hosting us, Master Baggins."
He watched the host smile and turn back to the door when the doorbell rang once more. Dwalin could admit to himself that he was now a little curious about the hobbit the wizard had adamantly suggested they take in as the 14th member of the company. When the boy had first opened the door, he noticed that there was something interesting about the hobbit. He was surprisingly taller than most halflings he had met, although he had met only a few, with curly gold hair and elf-like appearance. He looked really soft and young despite lacking the round stomach most of his kind has but what stuck to him was the small feet and the stunningly familiar blue eyes.
'Must be a half-blood.' He thought before making his way back to the front door.
"Brother!" Balin, son of Fundin, chuckled as he approached his sibling.
"By my beard, you are shorter and wider than last we met!"
"Wider, not shorter!" he smiled, "Still, sharp enough for the both of us!"
Bilbo looked with amazement as the two siblings greeted each other by knocking their foreheads, 'No wonder dwarrows have such thick skulls.' He thought before turning back to the door when he heard the bell ring.
"Fili!" A golden-haired dwarf nodded in greeting.
"And Kili!" The black-haired dwarf continued with a smile.
"At your service!" They bowed in unison, "You must be Mister Boggins!" Kili grinned.
Ah, his father's heirs and sister's-sons. Although, both are technically his blood cousins. Bilbo forced out a respectful smile at his butchered name, "It's Baggins, Mister Kili. But please, just call me Bilbo." He stepped aside to let them in, "Boots off please, and weapons at the crate." He gestured to both of the Fundinson's belongings as an example.
Fili and Kili looked at one another before following, "What a nice house you have, Mister Baggins." Fili casually mentioned as he took off his numerous knives with grand movements, amused at how the hobbit looked exasperated at the number of his weapons.
"Thanks," he half-mindedly said, "My father built it." He moved away from the two. 'How many knives does he have hidden in his coat?' he thought before grimacing as he watched Fili remove a knife from his boot. 'Wow.'
"Master Balin, could I interest you in some wine or tea?" Bilbo offered with a polite smile as he approached the older dwarf, "It is pretty early to drink ale."
"I'm fine with ale, laddie." Balin shook his hand, "It's been such a long time since I could unwind," he gestured to the full table where the two young dwarrows and his brother were already seated at, "Thank you for preparing such a lovely feast, Master Baggins." he said as he sat down himself.
Bilbo nodded in understanding as he gently placed a mug full of Gaffer's brew in front of Balin, "The pleasure is all mine, Master Balin." He smiled.
"Will you not be joining us, Mister Baggins?" Kili questioned from beside his brother.
"Yeah, there's only fourteen seats." Fili pointed out as they waited for the rest of the company to arrive.
"No, no." Bilbo shook his head, "I'm quite full already. I've snacked while cooking and preparing the entire day." He reassured them.
"If you're quite sure," Balin nodded as he watched the hobbit move back to the front door.
/ X /
Bilbo sighed as he watched the twelve dwarrows sing and throw his plates along the corridor. 'At least I didn't use my mother's delicate pottery.' He thought as he sat down beside Gandalf.
"Please, make them stop." He said, willfully ignoring the merry tune and singing.
Gandalf laughed, "They're quite a merry gathering, my boy! Especially when you get used to them." He then gestured to the table full of clean plates and mugs, "Look! They cleaned up."
Bilbo dryly looked at the grinning company before softly shaking his head, "I suppose all of you deserve dessert." He said before standing up to go to his second pantry.
"Dessert?!"
"You mean there's more?"
"I'm more surprised that there's a second pantry!"
"May Mahal bless you, laddie."
The hobbit grinned as he gently set down a few trays full of cupcakes and cookies, "There's another keg inside my second pantry if you want some" he offered.
"I'll get it, Master Baggins." Bofur, the toymaker and miner dwarf who liked to wear a fluffy hat, gestured for him to sit down.
Before he could sit down, the entire smial was quickly silenced as three loud knocks came from the door.
"He is here," Gandalf looked at Bilbo, "Come, my boy."
With half of the company coming along with them to greet their King, Bilbo tried to muster up all the courage he could as he realized that he would finally meet his father. This would be the first time that he would ever interact with the dwarf – actually interact with him! And not just him watching from the sidelines hidden by Men as he watched his father during his times at Bree. Bilbo was afraid of what was to happen, both now and for the adventure his godfather had roped him into. For even now, he realized that he was still the same child who longed to meet his father.
"Tharkûn!", Bilbo watched as his father – the dwarf King he's only ever seen from afar – entered Bag-End, "You said this place was easy to find. I lost my way," he took off his fur coat and passed it to the waiting arms of Kili, "Twice." He added. "I only found this place thanks to the mark on the door."
"Mark? On my newly painted door?" Bilbo glared at his godfather.
"Yes, I placed it myself." Gandalf shrugged before turning to gesture to the late dwarf, "Bilbo, may I introduce you to the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield." He smiled with a hint of pride, 'Your father, my dear.' He thought as his blue eyes watched the unknowing father and son look upon each other.
Blue eyes of the same shade clashed, one full of amusement, the other full of curiosity.
"So, this is the hobbit." Thorin said as he looked at the smaller boy in front of him. His eyes gazed at the curly gold colored hair, his surprising shade of blue eyes and soft elf-like facial features matched with pointy ears as typical of halflings. This 'Bilbo' was taller than the average halflings he had seen on his way here, but he was still shorter than Fili. He looked at the gold waistcoat and velvet breeches that he wore, 'Surely he won't wear such proper clothing on the road?' he thought before looking at the smaller than average – for a halfling – feet.
"Tell me, Master Hobbit, have you done much fighting?" He circled around the hobbit.
"Pardon?"
"Axe or sword? What is your weapon of choice?" He stopped in front of the baffled host.
"I'm not really keen on fighting, Master Oakenshield." Bilbo scrunched his nose at the thought.
"I thought as much," Thorin glanced back to his company, "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." He smirked before looking back to Gandalf.
"Now, Thorin, that is not the way to show respect to your host." Gandalf scolded, 'And really, this is not a good first impression to give to your son!'
"Agreed. Especially a host who saved you a few plates of food, seeing as your company forgot to save you even a plate." Bilbo offered a polite smile despite his annoyance.
Thorin tilted his head in consideration, "The boy's right, Thorin." Balin mentioned from his side.
The King nodded, "I apologize then, Master Hobbit. Thorin Oakenshield, at your service." He gave the briefest nod of his head before turning back to his kin to greet them.
Watching the company greet their king, Bilbo watched as he looked at the dwarf. His long dark hair was streaked with silver hair in a few places here and there with two braids that fell in front of his ears and were clasped with a pair of silver beads. Unlike the rest of his kin, his beard was kept short and trimmed neatly. Thorin was tall for a dwarf, seemingly almost the same height as Dwalin. He carried himself with an air of royalty and his strong facial features enhanced his handsome face and strikingly blue – the same shade as his – eyes.
'Handsome dwarf indeed,' Bilbo thought as he remembered his mother's tale. 'Good to know that my mother had great taste in men.'
He sighed as he went to the second pantry where he hid a few plates of food for his father. Not really minding the talks around him as he followed where the company had relocated back to the table, he set them in front of the seated king before leaving to fetch him a mug of ale.
After doing so, Bilbo gestured to Gandalf that he would be cleaning up the plates, leaving the company to talk and catch up while they wait for Thorin to finish his meal.
Absentmindedly moving the plates back to their respective cupboards, Bilbo realized that he was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if anyone were to know that he was Thorin's son. The dwarf himself was intimidating – he commanded respect from everyone in the room without so much of a word. His mere presence was heavy and seemed to attract people's gazes.
Bilbo, for all his firm decision of not telling his true parentage, could not help but think of the mere possibility that someone would piece it together. Although Thorin himself was not aware that his one night of fun managed to give birth to a child, he didn't want to tempt fate and its funny ways.
"Bilbo," Gandalf's soft voice snapped him back to reality, "We're going to begin the discussion. You should return with me to the table." He smiled.
/ X /
Sitting down inside the privacy of his study, Bilbo pursed his lips as he read the contract once, twice, before placing it down. "This is madness." He muttered to himself.
"Oh, it is. But that's where the best adventure happens." Gandalf chuckled from his own chair. The old wizard was happily puffing his pipe of Old Toby, his pointy hat nowhere to be seen.
"Yes, but a burglar? You want me to steal from a dragon." He looked at his godfather, "A dragon, Gandalf. As my godfather you should be keeping me away from such creatures, not throwing me to it." He snapped. "My dad would be disappointed with you."
The wizard laughed, "But Belladonna would probably have packed your bag on her own and would have shoved you out the door before second breakfast!" Then, he leaned forward to whisper, "And your father is leading this 'mad' adventure." He winked.
"That's what I'm worried about." He confessed.
"Worried about what?"
Bilbo hesitated. His sharp hobbit ears listened to make sure no one was near the door or even walking by the hallway outside before replying, "What if he learns about me? What if I get over-emotional and have a breakdown and confess?"
Gandalf hummed in understanding as he continued, "I wish to finish this without anyone ever knowing. I know that I have no place in his life, and I have a life of my own. But what if I get jealous of Fili and Kili? What if I long for the way he takes care of them? As if they were his sons when I am right here."
Bilbo sighed in sadness before he picked up the contract once more, "Can you even promise that I will come back?"
His godfather shook his head, "As a wizard, no. But as your godfather, I will brave even the depths of Mordor to get you home. But when you do, you will not be the same."
At this, the hobbit smiled in amusement. "When I mentioned that I wanted to go beyond Rivendell, I expected a more enjoyable adventure." He neatly signed the contract, "I can't even imagine Lord Elrond's face if he learns that I'm contracted as a burglar!" he laughed. "I've never even stolen a thing in my life."
Gandalf winced, "Let us hope he finds amusement in this. Although I have no doubts that he will know sooner or later."
"You're planning to lead us to Rivendell then?" He asked, "Master Oakenshield would not find that agreeable." He raised a brow before adding, "Honestly, none of the dwarrows would."
"Bebother with the lot of them! We have a map that we cannot read, and I am certain that Lord Elrond can read it for us." Gandalf snorted, "We will get there one way or another."
"If you insist." Bilbo moved to get his traveling pack stuffed inside a cabinet, "Do they even know that I am your godchild?"
"No. Nor do they know your age."
"Why? What's wrong with my age?"
"You are still 39, my boy."
"I am of age, Gandalf." Bilbo snorted, "And I turn 40 this September."
"In the eyes of a dwarf, you are but a child. Dwarrows don't come of age until 75." He pointed out, "Kili is the youngest being 77." Then he whispered once more, "We both know that being a half-dwarf, it is you who is the youngest."
"And having elf blood run in my veins, no matter how little, means that I might just outlive them."
"Speaking of elf blood, when is your grandfather planning on retiring to the Valley?" Gandalf leaned back to his chair, back to merrily puffing his pipe.
"Not for another few years, I suppose." Bilbo shrugged as he opened his pack. "Gandalf, can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"If… In the line of succession… Am I…?" he trailed off in hopes that Gandalf understood his question.
"I'm afraid you are destined to royalty. As a hobbit, you are the next in line for the Thainship, as willed by Gerontius." He exhaled a small puff of smoke, "As his real son, you are the heir to the throne."
"But the two young boys?"
"Are his sister's-sons. But dwarrows are ironically strict with tradition, their crown is passed down to the child of the King, unless they do not have a child of their own, of course."
Bilbo nodded as he pursed his lips in thought.
"Tell me," Gandalf cleaned his pipe, "What do you think of him?"
"Well, he's intimidating, that's for sure."
"Ah, his earlier stunt wasn't really the best first impression."
"To be fair, he doesn't even know who I am." He smiled. "He is incredibly rude and stubborn, might I add. He is terribly discourteous and narrow-minded." He listed, "But he instills loyalty and passion to his people." He thought back to the speech Thorin delivered earlier and how his people easily joined him without a second thought.
"He is a good person, Bilbo. I was fond of his father; he was a close friend of mine. And I am fond of Thorin Oakenshield despite of his stubborn nature and pride."
"I never said he wasn't."
"I'm just clearing things out. I really want this to work out," Gandalf confessed, "You deserve to have a father, your real father, to guide you in this world. I love Bungo and Belladonna, I really do, but they left you alone in this world far too soon."
"It wasn't like they wanted to." Bilbo frowned but he could see that the wizard was beginning to wallow in nostalgia. "It was a bad winter, godfather." He reminded him softly.
"I know," Gandalf murmured in sadness. "I was there."
The hobbit raised the contract, "I should give this to Master Balin before I pack. Hopefully, he is still awake." Making a hasty escape, he swiftly left the room in search of the elder dwarf.
Left alone, Gandalf shook his head. "One can only hope that this adventure will end on good terms." He reached inside his robes for a small locket. He opened it to look at the pictures of Bungo and Belladonna, "I hope you guide Bilbo in this adventure of ours, both in body and mind." He smiled.