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“Uncle Bilbo! Come out here, I can see land.” Frodo’s voice was as joyful as it hadn’t been in years.
Bilbo blinked the bleariness of sleep from his eyes and noticed that he felt not as terribly old as usual. And when he looked down onto himself he looked less like his 131 years. “Give an old man a moment,” he called out to his nephew and heaved himself out of the cot.
-/-
The air outside was fresh and seemed lighter than anywhere in Middle Earth. Just peaking from the horizon were green cliffs and a bright light shone from the island. “Valinor,” Bilbo muttered full of awe.
From behind Gandalf stepped closer to the two hobbits. “Quite correct, Bilbo, my friend. The immortal lands where the love of the Ainur grants eternal life.”
The old wizard noticed too late that that might have been the wrong thing to say to Bilbo. “You know, Gandalf, sometimes I think if we were as powerful as the Ainur, if a little hobbit only had a fraction of the power the Ainur posses and my love could have saved his life, he would have lived into all eternity.”
Frodo gave him a sympathetic smile from the side. “I’m sure of that, uncle Bilbo. But now a new chapter begins. One last adventure far away from home, uncle Bilbo.”
The older hobbit nodded. “I suppose you are right. The price we paid for our last adventures were,” he made a pause, “ severe. This time all I pay is the consolation that one day I would follow Thorin into death as I followed him into that mountain.”