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“Perhaps it was all the more lovely because I knew I would not be staying.”
Bilbo looked up at the perpetual autumn above him. Leaves danced to the ground in hues of red and gold, crackling softly in the wind. While beautiful as always, the colours seemed more muted than they had over fifty years ago. Perhaps the thrill of adventure among indignant traveling companions had made the leaves of Imladris more vibrant. Perhaps this is what they called the fading of the Elves. Or more likely, Bilbo thought, it is my eyesight failing along with the rest of my body.
Since Bilbo had come to Rivendell, nay, since he had set off on the path outside Bag End, the Hobbit had begun to truly feel his eleventy-one years. The road had never been a comfortable bed, but now the tree roots digging into his back left bruises and a soreness that carried on for days.
Even the long walks he used to enjoy were not the same. Bilbo found himself leaning ever more on his walking stick, taking it along with him through the meandering paths around the Last Homely House.
As the old Hobbit made his way over to his favorite bench, he felt creaking knees protest the speed. Finally, he sat down and propped his foot up on a padded wood stool one of the Elves had thoughtfully left for him. There was a sharp pain twinging in the ball of his right foot. Bilbo could not at the moment recall the name of the ailment, but he had remembered Óin lecturing him about it as he scoffed at the Hobbit’s way of going about with no shoes. Óin had told him that old Dwarves who had walked on stone too long without proper boots often suffered from it.
At the time, Bilbo had laughed off his companion’s warnings, telling Óin that Hobbits suffered from no such problems. But now it seemed his Tookish penchant for adventuring had caught up with him. After all, no Hobbit in recent memory—old or young—seemed to go on quite so many walking holidays as ‘Mad Baggins.’ Nor had any traversed the unforgiving rock of mountains.
Bones cracked with a rather unpleasant twinge as Bilbo brought the offending foot up onto his other knee and massaged the tender area gently. “This old Hobbit may not be able to make it to Erebor,” mused Bilbo, “but perhaps if I am able to make it to Khazad-dûm, Óin may finally need to fix me up with a pair of boots. Though I don’t know how I’ll learn to walk in them at this age.”
Bilbo had kept up a regular correspondence with Balin over the many years and had received a number of invitations to visit once the kingdom had been re-won. He had not heard from the Uzbad Khazaddûmu in quite a while, but he supposed the duties of ruling and restoration would take up much of Balin’s time.
“So you shall finally hear reason?” spoke a lyrical voice to Bilbo’s left. “And allow my father to treat your gontharu?”
“Alas, no!” Laughed Bilbo as the Lady Arwen sat on the bench to his left. “I am not so far gone as to give up my Hobbitishness for walking the gentle paths of your fair home. A proper Baggins to the end I’ll be! If I can manage.”
The lady smiled softly, a mischief in her eyes that only enhanced her grace. “Ah, but for the glory of the Dwarves you shall toss proper Hobbit manners out the door.” Her lilting tone made the statement both a question and a challenge.
“Alright,” Bilbo smiled, “a Took to the end as well, I suppose. Balin says even Erebor could not rival the halls of Dwarrowdelf.”
Arwen looked away then, as though caught in a memory. “When I was young I often passed through Hadhorond, traveling to and from Lothlórien." Catching Bilbo's eye, she continued. "His praise is well deserved. Even the grandchild of Fëanor was awed by the grandeur of that place.”
“Then it shall certainly overwhelm a simple Hobbit! But,” Bilbo looked down as he added, “it would be nice to visit my friends nonetheless.
"And to have this old Hobbit surprise them one last time.” He added with a quick wink.
“Well, Mr Baggins! I’m afraid your surprise must wait.” Arwen grinned and grasped Bilbo’s small hand in her own. He looked up with a question at the lady’s jovial tone. “For your friends have surprised you first! I am come to tell you that Master Gloin and Master Gimli were spotted in the valley and that we should expect their arrival shortly. I am sure they shall be very pleased to see you.”
Bilbo smiled brightly and would have jumped up was his hand not anchored so firmly (and had his bones not protested quite so much). “Why did you not mention it sooner? I must get back quickly! So I can be ready to meet them when they arrive. And Frodo can help me find my blue weskit… He will be so glad to meet them both at last!”
Arwen laughed softly as she helped Bilbo up. She was pleased to have distracted the Hobbit from his recent melancholy, for Bilbo was a kindly fellow and deserved any happiness the Last Homely House could give him.