So, here we go. This is it!

I want to thank all of you for your support throughout the entirety of this story! I don't think it would ever have gotten this far without your constant lovely reviews that motivated me!

Special thanks to TheEarthSong, Miriel Tolkien, SongHyeRii, Eruwaedhiel95, Sabrinabella, My mother is a koala, MizunoOujo.1967, TerraMacMillan, kaia, Nan, RagdollPrincess and MaxRideandPercyJackson4ever for your reviews on the last chapter! I greatly enjoyed reading them, as always!

This ending is somewhat of an open end and it is deliberately kept so. So, I hope you won't be too disappointed at the lack of baby number two, more family time and wolf!Tarya or wolf!Tìr, although just because it doesn't appear in this chapter doesn't mean that it didn't all happen in their future :)

Well then, I hope you'll enjoy this last chapter as much as I enjoyed writing this whole story for you guys! We might encounter each other again through a different story in the future but until then I bid you all a very fond farewell! :D

Epilogue

The sky was bright blue and only spotted with a few white clouds when Bilbo Baggins came back from the market. The warm summer wind ruffled his curly brown hair slightly as he carried his basket along the grassy roads of Hobbiton, nodding polite greetings to the people that crossed his way. Bilbo took his time to get home, enjoying the bright rays of the sun warming his skin and the ground on which he walked with his bare feet.

The hobbit had a small content smile on his face as he walked up the little hill to Bag End, though he frowned slightly as he saw that the garden gate was hanging wide open. He couldn't remember having left it like this but was indeed quite sure that he had closed it when he had left for the market that morning. With a slight shrug, the hobbit made his way into his garden, mindful to close the gate behind him before he walked up the stairs to his big round green front door. He had already pushed it half open when a small movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned his head to the left to see a large black raven sitting calmly on the ledge of one of his windows. With a frown, Bilbo raised one hand to wave it lightly at the bird.

"Shoo!" he uttered disapprovingly, moving his hand a bit more when the raven did not budge from its position, instead simply cawed at him in return. It was then that Bilbo's gaze fell suddenly upon something white that the bird was sitting on, making his frown deepen though this time it was in confusion.

"What… what have you got there?" Bilbo asked, not actually expecting an answer as he took a step towards the black bird. The raven cawed once more before it moved finally, fluttering away and seating itself on top of the nearby letterbox that stood by his garden gate. Bilbo followed it with his gaze before he slowly brought his eyes back to the white thing lying on his window ledge. Upon second glance, Bilbo could now see that it was in fact an envelope and as he picked it up and turned it in his hand, he caught sight of the dark red waxen seal that held it closed. It looked awfully formal and he narrowed his eyes as he inspected the seal more closely, though they widened only a moment later as he recognized the pattern that had been pressed into the wax.

It was the sign of Durin.

Warily, Bilbo gripped the envelope a bit tighter in his hands. It had been over twelve years since the battle before Erebor, the hobbit thought, twelve years since his departure from the dwarves. Twelve years in which he had tried not to think too much about the journey he had lived, the pain and the loss that had been brought along with the battle at the end of it. Bilbo had tried not to think about his adventure too often, simply to protect himself from hurtful memories. However, now that he was holding this envelope in his hands, he could not help but recall all that had happened, the happy memories that he had stowed away in his mind. He remembered the many evenings around the campfire filled with comfortable conversation and stories, his friends and the many spectacular things they had lived together, and he wondered whom it was that might send him a message after all these years.

Quickly, he stepped into his home, closing the door behind him and putting his basket carelessly on the nearest commode as his attention was now fully focused on the envelope in his hands. Bilbo walked past his mother's old glory box and to his table, taking a seat on one of the chairs as he broke the waxen seal with trembling fingers. He took a deep breath as he opened the envelope and forth came a letter, making Bilbo's eyes widen slightly as he unfolded it and carefully began to read the delicately curved words before him.

My dear Bilbo

As I am writing this to you, I am not sure what to say. I have drafted many versions of this letter over the last years, though I never sent out even one of them. I was afraid, you see. Afraid that there were no words adequate enough to even begin with, no way to address you after all this time. I wasn't sure whether you wanted to hear from me at all.

I should have sent it sooner.

It has been so long since we last spoke. Just as long since we last saw each other. I have no excuse for keeping you wait for as long as I did, though maybe… maybe you would take into account that I first had to learn how to write, before I could ever think of writing to you, my friend.

Maybe I should scold you for not writing to me first. However, I feel that this would be wrong. For the last time you saw me, I was still lying unconscious in a dark chamber in Erebor and no one could be sure if I would ever wake again… I did wake, Bilbo. And though I missed your presence incredibly when I did, I understand why you left before I woke. Or at least, I think I do. Maybe you did not want to wait for another of your friends to die after you had already lost so many. Maybe, after all the darkness you went through, you yearned for your home. Maybe you simply longed for a place filled with light and green hills instead of grief and unyielding grey stone.

I cannot tell for sure what was on your mind, Bilbo, and I will not pretend that I can. I only wish that you found a way to go on after everything that has happened. I hope you found in yourself the stout-hearted Bilbo that you always were, never too showy or grand. Always kind and gentle. You were true to the end, Bilbo, and I could never have wished for a finer friend than you.

And I wish for you to know that I still miss you after all these years. I wish you could see what our quest has led to, Bilbo. I wish you could see the life that has been brought back to Erebor, the home that it has become. You would like it, I am sure. You would spend hours in the library, I assume, and you would spend even more in the kitchens. The mountain is alive with the laughter of children who would be delighted to hear the tales of your adventure that I can only hope you pass on to the little Shirelings instead.

My Tìr would love your stories. He is six years old now and is looking more like his father with every day, though Kili still says that he resembles me more, or at least his eyes. He is a beautiful boy, Bilbo. I hope you will get to meet him someday.

And maybe, when you are sitting by the firelight's glow one of these days, telling stories of your adventures, strange and rare, you will remember me with as much fondness as I feel thinking of you. And maybe, someday, you will feel like travelling the road again and seeing mountains. And when that day comes, be assured that Erebor will always have its gates wide open for you. You will always be welcome here.

I hope to see you again, my friend, and to speak of all the things that were left unsaid and those that were yet to pass.

I hope that you have peace and love in your life, Bilbo, for there is no one more deserving of it than you.

Your friend always,

Tarya

Silence hung over the hobbit hole when Bilbo finished the letter, and he quickly clenched his eyes shut as he wiped away the few tears that had escaped his eyes during his reading.

"Oh, Tarya," he mumbled, gazing at the letter fondly, chuckling quietly to himself as he shook his head. He stayed seated for a while, reading over the words of his old friend again a few times before he finally sniffed back his remaining tears and reached out over the table.

The inkpot made a small scratching noise on the wooden table as Bilbo pulled it towards him, slowly pulling out the quill that had still been dipped inside. He picked up a fresh piece of parchment, smiling warmly as he began to write.

My dearest Tarya…

END