Bilbo let out a content sigh as he relaxed in his armchair. He had had quite enough of adventures for a lifetime, thank you very much, and he was ready to take a nice, long nap.
The hobbit let out a small yelp, though, when a sharp pain in his backside disrupted his peace. He dug around in his pocket and retrieved the acorn. Just seeing brought tears to his eyes and he quickly put it away before he started crying over that headstrong Dwarf again.
Thorin. The leader of their party, who had given his life to save them from Azog the Defiler. The Dwarf who had grown quite close to the hobbit on their journey. Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to eradicate the painful memory of Thorin dying from his mind, but to no avail. There was another sigh, this one melancholy, and Bilbo stood up, grabbed the acorn, and marched outside. He knelt in his garden and buried it in the ground.
As he sat in the sun, he noticed a figure walking up the hill toward his house. He frowned. The figure was much taller than any hobbit. Who could it be?
As they approached, a sharp gasp escaped Bilbo and he immediately stood up, jogging over to the figure, whose fur coat and black braids were now visible.
Bilbo raced toward Thorin and head butted him, hugging him tightly. A million questions raced through his mind, but as he looked up, a single one remained.
"Is this really you?"
YOU ARE READING
THE VOICES IN OUR HEADS
FanfictionAfter the battle of the five armies, Bilbo returns home to Bag End. He doesnt expect to be dragged away for another adventure days later, and this time by the mysterious Thorin Oakenshield...
