An Unexpected Addition (Thilbo - Bagginshield)

Epilogue

Bilbo Baggins had lived a long life.

Few hobbits could claim to have traveled even a few miles past Bree, let alone a large expanse of Middle-Earth itself. The forests of Mirkwood no longer frightened him, the waterfalls of Rivendell no longer punched the breath out of him, and the depthless chasms of Erebor no longer felt like they would swallow him whole if he took the tiniest step to the left or right. Living eight decades with a bunch of crazy dwarves could really change a hobbit. But for the better, Bilbo sincerely hoped.

A shadow had started to fall over Middle-Earth in the years since Bilbo had become Consort Under the Mountain. Orcs and goblins and wargs had become more and more common in the Misty Mountains. Spiders overran numerous parts of the once beautiful Mirkwood, forcing Thranduil and his people into a constant state of warfare both inside and directly outside of the wood. Tensions rose between the Easterlings and the men of Dale and Esgaroth, small skirmishes breaking out more and more often with every year that passed. Tales of Mordor and its looming threat filtered up the Anduin and Carnen from human kingdoms like Gondor, Rohan, and Dorwinion.

Bilbo's travels to the Shire, which had taken place every five years during the initial four decades he had lived in Erebor, came to a halt for quite some time.

Ironfists continued to remain a big problem for Thorin all throughout his rule in the Lonely Mountain. Dwarves were quite similar to elves when it came to disagreements, feuds, and an innate proclivity for long, drawn out warfare. Bilbo had been on his toes for the first few years he'd lived in Erebor, waiting and watching for the next strike that the Ironfists would level against his family and himself. They'd already kidnapped Frodo and tried to blow up Erebor's main source of wealth, so why wouldn't they attack while the attacking was good? Well, it turned out that when dwarves went to war with or had feuds with other dwarvish clans, it wasn't at all unheard of for the dispute to last centuries. So, while dwarves weren't very good at biding their time for most sensible things, inter-clan warfare and internal dissent was an exception to the rule.

For the most part, dwarves all over Middle-Earth barricaded themselves inside of their mountain strongholds, ignoring the going-ons of the men and elves in the surface world. Dale's close proximity to the Lonely Mountain facilitated a great deal of trade and a more open relationship between northmen and dwarves than was typical, but even Thorin kept a careful yet peaceful distance between his people and their surface-dwelling neighbors. However, there was a sturdy peace between dwarves, elves, skin-changers, and northmen for all of Thorin's rule, something that the communities directly around Erebor desperately needed after so many years of living in Smaug's shadow. Inter-clan relations, like those between the Longbeards and the Ironfists...well, that was a whole other story right there. A giant migraine, too.

Honestly, dwarves had to be the most stubborn, thick-headed, and feud-loving race on Middle-Earth. Bilbo was sure of it.

And during all of this, the Ring stayed nestled in Bilbo's waistcoat pocket or hidden in a small envelope atop the mantle of his bedchambers. Bilbo didn't give his nifty little Ring much thought over the years, only using it when times turned dire and Nori needed the assistance of a proper burglar to deal with assassins or rioting traitors within the mountain. A simple little bauble, magical though it was, had not raised any red flags in Bilbo's mind. After all, he lived in the richest dwarven kingdom of Middle-Earth, so why would an austere golden Ring draw any suspicions or extra attention from him?

The arrival of the Ringwraiths had changed everything.

Bilbo had been in Rivendell at the time, making the long trek to visit his homeland for the first time in over a decade. As it turned out, long distance travel was much harder for a hobbit once they had passed their first century of life. Tired and weary after passing through the Misty Mountains, Bilbo had urged Frodo and the caravan of dwarves who'd accompanied them to continue on to their final destinations, assuring the nervous guards that he'd find an elven escort in the next few weeks to bring him the rest of the way to Bag End. Five personal guards had stayed behind while the rest continued on to Ered Luin, Frodo going along with them to the Shire. A few months with the Gamgees, Tooks, and Brandybucks would do the gentle young hobbit a world of good, Bilbo had thought.