Chapter Text
Gandalf arrived in time for Bilbo’s 111st birthday. There was a huge celebration in Erebor. Bilbo, for his part, looked as if he were only in his 70’s for a hobbit. His hair was starting to finally grey a bit and a few wrinkles graced his features.
The same day was also Frodo’s 33rd birthday, and that meant he was a full grown adult now, since hobbits came of age at thirty three. There were many dwarven lasses who were quite smitten with the young hobbit prince and he never wanted for a dance partner that night.
Gandalf’s arrival brought fireworks to the party that night and grievous news the following day.
“That ring of yours,” Gandalf said, looking to Bilbo, “the one you found in the goblin tunnels, I believe it is the One Ring.”
Bilbo looked confused, but Thorin’s eyes grew wide and he stood straight and stiff with the news. “Are you sure?”
“I can do one simple test on the ring that would prove it or not. Do you have the ring Bilbo?”
With a bit of a flush on his face, Bilbo pulled it from an inner pocket of his waistcoat. He tried to hand it to Gandalf, but Gandalf backed away.
“Just toss it into the fire,” Gandalf told him. “I promise it will not be in long enough to do any damage.”
Everything in Bilbo’s being told him not to do this, but he knew to trust Gandalf and so he threw it into the hearth. With a pair of tongs, he reached in and took it out. He set it down on the table and stared at it. A few moments later, writing appeared on the side of the ring, and Gandalf let out his breath. “It is as I feared,” he said.
After a long explanation to Thorin and Bilbo, Gandalf managed to take the ring, sticking it in an envelope, and then a scarf with several magical spells spoken over the scarf. “I will see it is destroyed, but I fear you will finally start to age.”
“It’s been a long, wonderful life,” Bilbo said. “I will be sad to leave the world one day, but I know that I must and the ring has granted me a longer life than a hobbit would normally have. For that I am grateful.”
Thorin stood still and quiet. At two hundred fifty six, he was reaching the latter years of his own life. Of course, he was of the line of Durin, and they lived longer than the other dwarven clans. He might still have fifty years ahead of him. But not if Bilbo died first. He didn’t think he could live long without his One. A decade, maybe, but not the full years he might otherwise have. And he found, he didn’t mind that. Bilbo was right. They had had a good life.
“It doesn’t mean you’re going to die right away,” Gandalf said. “Continue to live and enjoy your life. I really don’t know what will happen, to be perfectly honest. You could have many more decades ahead of you. Remember your grandfather, the Old Took, lived to be 130, and that was without the help of a magical ring.
“That’s true,” Bilbo smiled. “Thank you Gandalf.”
His personal mortality was on his mind more now. Bilbo tried to make sure and enjoy every day as if it was his last. Two more years passed and Frerin arrived with his husband at Thorin and Bilbo’s home with news.
“I’m pregnant!” Frerin announced.
They weren’t sure if their sons would be able to bear children, being only half hobbit, but it seemed that at least Frerin could. Most likely they would never know with Dain or Torin. Torin was courting a dwarven lass of high ranking and great beauty. When Dain had come of age, at fifty, Thorin had finally explained the birthmark and who Dain truly was. He was Durin the Deathless reborn. Dain told them he had always kind of known and wasn’t very surprised with the news. Instead, he worked harder and dedicated his days to preparing to become the next king. He wanted to marry and have a queen to bear him heirs, but not yet. He figured he had many years ahead of him. But Frerin’s news was beyond exciting for the family.
It would be their first grandchildren. Bilbo helped Frerin get through the months of constant eating and uncomfortable growing. But Frerin was happy and strutted around Erebor like a proud peacock. When he finally delivered, Bilbo was honored to attend the birth and be among the very first to hold his four grandchildren; three boys and a girl.
Kilis and Filis were sought after by dwarves from all over Middle Earth. They were not only beautiful, but highly skilled in weaponry, and extremely knowledgeable in law and all manner of subjects.
Thorin was beside himself with all the suitors that came to try and impress his daughters. And it wasn’t just Filis and Kilis either. Primrose, Belladonna and Iris were all great beauties. Their combination of dwarven and hobbit features made them very exotic looking. Iris was the first to accept a suitor’s proposal to court. Thorin expected nothing but the best for his girls, but also understood the importance of love in their choices. He would do his best to accept the lad as long as he showed he truly loved their princesses and weren’t after them for their rank.
He needed have worried though, they were the daughters of Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. They weren’t about to let anyone take advantage of them. One stupid lad tried to force a kiss from Filis and instead of a kiss to his lips, he found a powerful fist to his face and a lot of loose teeth in his mouth.
Thorin had held a feast that day in Filis’ honor.
When their adopted litter of hobbits reach thirty three, Bilbo was one hundred seventeen. The ring had been destroyed a few years back and aging was really starting to catch up to Bilbo. He moved a little slower and sported more grey hairs and wrinkles. He spent as much time as he could with Frerin’s children and Kilis’ first born, who was now a year old.
Frodo and his younger siblings wanted to go back to the Shire and see their old home. Frodo talked about staying there and living in Bag End again. The other four just wanted to visit the place they were born, but all their life, they had only known Erebor. They planned on coming home after spending some time there.
But, Bilbo only expected perhaps half of them to return. He figured that once they got there, some of them might fall in love with their ancestral home and stay for good. Saying good bye to Frodo, Hobson, Falco, Daisy and Violet was one of the hardest things he had ever done. Even stalwart Thorin couldn’t hold back his tears at seeing his youngest five heading off on their own. Torin, his wife, and Filis, along with several of Thorin’s best members of the guard, would accompany the hobbits back to the Shire. From there, Torin and the other dwarves would go to the Blue Mountains to see how Lord Bern was doing in Ered Luin. They, at least, would be home within the year.
What they didn’t expect was Filis to fall in love with Lord Bern, fellow dwobbit, childhood friend, and now Lord over the Blue Mountains. She remained there and later married Bern.
When Bilbo’s one hundred twenty fifth birthday came around, he looked and felt his age. He shuffled from place to place and used his time to write his memoirs. His children and grandchildren visited him every day. Dain, who was now called Durin, had been placed on the throne three years ago by his father.
Durin was a good and wise king. He led an army of dwarves against an army of orcs who came to war against Erebor. Durin would let no filthy orc near the gates of his kingdom, and so they killed every foul orc, letting none escape. Erebor thrived under Durin’s rule. Thorin was still an official advisor to King Durin VII, but these days, he preferred to be at home with Bilbo and his family.
At Thorin’s birthday that year, he turned 270. The entire family had been invited and to Thorin and Bilbo’s delight, every one of their thirteen children was there with their spouses and children. Durin, the great king, stood tall and handsome; almost completely like Thorin in looks. Frerin was there with his eight children; two litters of four each. They were a loud, noisy bunch that Thorin absolutely adored. Torin, his wife, and son who, at ten, was as strong as an ox and gave the weapons master a run for his money every time they fought with axes, were also there to celebrate Thorin.
Kilis was heavily pregnant with her third child and was delighted to have Filis visiting from the Blue Mountains with Bern and their two children.
Belladonna married a hobbit, who had come to Erebor as an ambassador, falling in love with the princess and never went back. They had five children now. Iris had decided she was not interested in marriage and took up a craft, becoming a master of goldsmithing and setting jewels. Primrose married a lord from the Iron Hills and lived there. She was expecting her first baby now.
Frodo, Falco and Violet had chosen to make their lives in the Shire. Frodo in Bag End and the others married, with their own families, while Daisy and Hobson remained in Erebor. But they were all back together.
Bilbo took a head count. They numbered 45 children, spouses and grandchildren with more on the way.
“Did you ever think, when you showed up on my doorstep in Bag End, that our lives would lead to this?” Bilbo asked as they watch the family talking, playing and sharing stories with each other.
“If you had told me I would have all this to look forward too, I would have laughed in your face,” Thorin smiled. “It’s been an amazing life, though.”
“Indeed,” Bilbo smiled.
“One day, sooner, rather than later, I think, I will get to greet Fili and Kili again and tell them all about my family,” Thorin said quietly.
Bilbo nodded. It was true. The remainder of their life was growing shorter. “And what a reunion that will be,” Bilbo smiled.
“Fili and Kili,” Thorin sighed, “and Dis, and Frerin and my father. I hope I have not disappointed them.”
“Thorin,” Bilbo kissed his husband’s cheek. “Not even Mahal himself could be disappointed with you.”
It wasn’t many months later that the mourning bells of Erebor rang and the bodies of Thorin and Bilbo were carried side-by-side to the tombs.
“Do you think there was foul play?” Torin asked his brother and king. “Them both dying together like that?”
Durin smiled. “Of course not. I believe one of them died, peacefully in his sleep and the other just slipped away soon after. It would have been cruel for one to have been forced to live long without the other.”
Torin smiled. “Yes, I believe your right.”
And so Thorin and Bilbo were placed side-by-side and hand-in-hand into a large tomb. It was sealed up and the words “A King and his Burglar, husband and husband, Adad and Papa, hand in hand for time immemorial,” were carved into the stone to remain in the depths of Erebor until the world ended