Chapter Text
Bilbo sat at his desk, quietly contemplating the page in front of him.
Frodo was awake. Thank all the Valar, the dear boy seemed to be pulling through. He never could have forgiven himself if Frodo had not lived. He had seen too many deaths come to boys who wanted to make their father figures proud.
“Master Baggins?” A quiet voice came from the doorway. An elf…what was his name? Curse his wandering mind.
“Yes, yes, what can I do for you?”
“My apologies for the interruption. The party from the Lonely Mountain has arrived, and they are eager to meet with you, if at all possible.”
Bilbo perked up visibly. “Wonderful! Did you catch any of their names? I do hope that Balin was able to make the journey. The dear old fellow is such a delight! A great scholar in his own right, and a particular advisor to King Dain.”
“I don’t recall that name being mentioned, but there was a dwarf named Gloin who was quite…exuberant.”
Bilbo chuckled. “Ah, yes, of course. Gloin was always exuberant. Do you recall my first visit here, when we were on our way to the Lonely Mountain? I believe he was part of the group that decided to bathe in the fountain!”
The elf (confound it all, what was his name?) blushed slightly. “Yes, I do recall the incident. Is there a message you’d like me to convey to them?”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it to dinner this evening, but I’d be happy to receive them here once they’ve had a chance to refresh themselves.”
“Very good, Master Baggins.”
Bilbo smiled as the elf withdrew. Dear Gloin, come back to Rivendell. This promised to be a terribly entertaining day.
*****
He heard the dwarves approaching from quite a distance. The hearty laughter and roaring warmed him as few things could. Still, it was a shock when they entered the room.
Gloin was old.
Bilbo knew himself to be old, knew that his former companions must have aged as well, but it still gave him pause. Gloin, hearty, laughing, crude Gloin, full of life and quick to take offense, was now grey haired and stiff.
The comparison was probably made more stark by his companion. Another dwarf, the spitting image of Gloin as a younger dwarf.
“Master Baggins!” Well, Gloin’s roar was certainly as hearty as ever.
Bilbo found himself enveloped in a crushing embrace, and clapped heartily on the back.
“Gloin! My dear old friend! I have missed you terribly!”
When he had been placed back on his feet and regained his breath, he asked, “And who is this handsome young specimen? No, no, let me guess. This is the apple of your eye, the mighty young Gimli!”
“And of course you’d recognize him! I showed you my locket often enough!”
Gimli blushed, and stepped forward to take Bilbo’s hand. “Master Baggins, it is a great honor to meet you. I’ve been hearing tales of your heroics for years now.”
“Pah, don’t be bothered with all of that. I did what was needed, nothing more, nothing less. Now, I must admit, I heard some prime tales of your youth that I’ve been wondering about for a long time. What exactly was it that you did with the water pump and the donkey?”
Gimli turned a crimson to rival his beard, and his father roared with laughter. “Ah, Bilbo, it’s to be like that, is it? Let’s pull up some chairs, and I can tell you a few more recent tales that will make your hair straighten in shock!”
*****
After several hours, an elf came and coughed solicitously at the doorway.
“Yes, yes, what is it? Oh, is it time for dinner already? Curse it, and I’ve been taking up all of your time. Gloin, Gimli, I’m terribly sorry, but you really must go to the formal dinner Lord Elrond is holding this evening. Diplomatic nonsense and all that.”
Gimli looked at him in surprise. “But, Master Baggins, won’t you be joining us?”
“No, no, I prefer to dine quietly in my rooms. But that’s no reason for you to miss all of the fun. Now, go on with you, and remember, no dancing on the tables, regardless of any antics of my young kinsmen.”
Gloin turned to his son, and patted him heartily on the back. “Sounds like just your sort of thing, my lad. Now go on. I’ll catch you up soon enough. I’d like a few words with Master Baggins. In private.”
Gimli shot his father a rebellious look, but rose and prepared to leave. He bid Bilbo a fond farewell, then stomped off.
“He’s grown into a fine dwarf. You should be proud of him.”
“Oh, I am. I am. I know that everyone laughs at my doting on him, but he truly is a fine lad.” Gloin sighed. “Now, do you know what this council is about? An elf summoning dwarves and men? With a few hobbits to spare? It’s unheard of, Bilbo.”
Bilbo closed his eyes, and seemed to age visibly. “It all goes back to our quest, don’t you know? Pebbles that triggered an avalanche. We had no idea what we were doing. Well, I didn’t, at any rate. I thought it was just an adventure. I could not have possibly imagined what it would do to me.”
He sighed deeply, and looked at Gloin. “My ring. My stupid, ridiculous, awful ring. It’s more important than we ever could have imagined, and I…well. I suppose you’ll hear all about it at the council.”
“Bilbo. My dear friend. Can’t you tell me what happened?”
“No. I’m so sorry, but I can’t. I’ve lied for too long, and I don’t think I know how to speak truth any more.”
Gloin sighed. “Oddly enough, I do understand. Don’t trouble yourself any further. I’ll come back and speak with you after the council?”
“I seriously doubt that you’ll want to, but feel free.”
“Bilbo Baggins, you are a dwarf-friend, and bound to the House of Durin. No mistake or dishonor could make us turn from you.”
A strange little sound came from Bilbo, halfway between a laugh and a sob. “I still have it, you know. The mithril shirt. I can’t bear to look at it, but I keep it near me.”
Tears gathered in Gloin’s eyes. “You have always been welcome in the mountain. We would have come to the ends of the earth to bring you back, if you had asked.”
“And how could I be in the mountain, with memories of him clinging to every stone? With his tomb? The boys? To be the pitiful little foreign thing that the exile had bound himself to? To never…”
He broke off with a vehement shake of his head. “No, no, that's over and done with. Go, enjoy your dinner, and keep that fine lad of your in line.”
Gloin stood, and bowed deeply. “Good night, my friend.”
*****
When Gloin returned, after the Council, after the Fellowship had been named, he found Bilbo sitting in the gathering darkness. He stood, not sure if the hobbit was sleeping, until Bilbo began to speak quietly.
“It’s a funny thing, to be brought low. I’ve been so angry at Thorin for so long, and now I’ve done the same thing. Now, at the end of my life, I have seen myself succumb to madness, and I begin to understand.”
Gloin walked over to the small figure, and crouched in front of him. “Bilbo, what do you mean? My friend, you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Bilbo gave a watery laugh. “I have lied to you for so many years, but you can say that?”
“You silly hobbit, the One Ring was influencing you. Of course you lied. The amazing part was that you were still able to use it to restore our home. Our people were dying, Bilbo. We were not meant to live so long on the surface, and it took a heavy toll on our children. But you won back our home for us.”
“I gave Frodo the mithril shirt. Sting as well. I wanted to protect him as best I could. He’s taking this burden for me, and I just wanted to help him. But I saw the Ring, and tried to take it from him. Oh, Gloin, I let madness take me and attacked him.” Bilbo began to weep quietly.
“You know, I never understood how Thorin could turn on me. He spoke of such love, but then he looked at me with such hate and loathing. I forgave him as he lay dying, but I never understood. And now…now I do, and I can only hope that he does not hate himself as much as I do.”
Gloin wrapped his arms around Bilbo. “Ah, Bilbo, I wish you had never learned this truth. I wish you had been spared this pain, at least.”
Bilbo looked at him with a sudden intensity. “Promise me something. Frodo wears that shirt now, as my heir. Promise me that Gimli will protect him as he would protect me.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I bloody well do. I may have only been the Consort of Erebor for a short time, but I know my rights. Balin outlined them very carefully to me when he visited and met my heir. Promise me.”
Gloin closed his eyes, and gently extracted himself from their embrace. “You have my word. I will explain it to him before he leaves.”
“I’m sorry, my friend, but he is the only son I will ever have. I will do anything in my power to protect him.”
The old dwarf drew himself up stiffly. “I do understand. Good night, my lord.”
Gloin walked away slowly, as if bearing a heavy weight. Bilbo watched him, and thought sadly of fathers sending their children in to peril. He remembered two bright boys who followed their uncle to their doom. He thought of Gimli, bound to his duty. And he thought of his dear Frodo, and wept bitterly.