To Live Again

Bilbo watched from the ship as Frodo said his last goodbyes to his friends. He knew how it hurt to say goodbye to the people he cared for, trying to make it seem like just a short time until their next visit, all the while knowing he would never see them again. He can't recall how many days he wished for eleven- eight dwarves to arrive on his door step, grinning and ready to eat the store of his food again.

The day never came though, no matter how much Bilbo wished. Even in his old age he had held onto the hope that the dwarves of Erebor would visit again.

He now knew that he was one of the last alive of Thorin Oakenshield's company. Dwalin, Glóin, Óin and himself were the only ones left. Bilbo couldn't help but wonder what had happened to the rest of them. Had they died in battle? Had some been lost to sickness or did they die simply of age? He couldn't bring himself to ask, no matter how curious he was.

He wished he could see them all again, one last time. But Frodo was finishing his farewells and if they didn't leave soon, Bilbo feared he wouldn't make it to the Undying Lands.

As he watched Frodo say his farewells, Bilbo knew they would both miss the three other Hobbits.

"I will miss those trouble makers dearly." Bilbo said to Gandalf. "Pippin and Merry in particular."

Gandalf huffed out a laugh. "Yes. They do seem quite like Fíli and Kíli, don't they?"

"Quite." Bilbo agreed quietly.

Frodo joined them on the boat, waving a teary goodbye as it pulled away from the dock. Sam, Merry and Pippin all waved in return, the young Took and Brandybuck calling out loud farewells until they were out of sight and no longer able to be heard. Even then Frodo kept his hand raised in farewell, smiling sadly at where the shore line once was.

"Don't worry young Master Frodo," Gandalf said, placing a warm hand on the boys shoulder. "You will see them again I'm sure. Goodbye's hardly last forever."

"Even so, I will miss them greatly." Frodo replied quietly, dropping his hand at last. "I imagine this is how it felt for you to leave Erebor, Uncle."

"I believe it is." Bilbo said, placing a hand atop his nephews. "Yavanna will be kind to them, Frodo. And if she will not then Aulë will protect them, of that I have no doubt."

Frodo smiled and nodded. "Yes, I believe they will reward them for what they've done. Perhaps Eru will grant us the chance to meet again."

"Yes." Bilbo said with a sad smile. "Perhaps."

They were both silent for a long moment, the sound of Sindarin drifting over them as the small ship followed the setting sun. Bilbo was brought to the first time he heard Sindarin and had fallen in love with the language, eager to learn it even as his dwarven companions complained about how flowery it was. He had laughed at them then, but listening to it now he couldn't wish it was the guttural sounds of Khuzdul instead.

"We have a long journey ahead of us, Master Baggins." Gandalf said quietly. Bilbo came out of his revery and looked to him. "I suggest we all get some sleep. We should arrive late tomorrow evening, if the winds are in out favour."

"He is right Uncle. Come. Let us go to our room." Bilbo simply nodded, letting Frodo help him across the deck and down to the rooms below. "My room is right next door. Just rap on the wall if you need anything."

"I've fought dragons, m'boy. If I need anything I can do it myself."

Frodo laughed at Bilbo's wink as the older hobbit walked into his room. "You talked to a dragon, Uncle. You didn't fight it."

"Pah. Quite the same thing."

"I'm sure it is." Frodo chuckled. "Goodnight Uncle."

"Goodnight Frodo."