And there he was, dirty, with some minor injuries, disheveled hair and messy clothes, after such battle. Oh, what a battle it was. The first, and hopefully the last battle in his entire life. The tales and songs say they can be glorious, but he actually didn't expect this to happen. He didn't think it could end up like this, this adventure, witnessing fights and deaths. Deaths. That must have been the worst. Especially a friend's death. Thorin's death, regretting what he had said and done before dying, and asking for friendship one last time. And it all happened because of a wretched treasure.

After the last goodbye to Thorin, Bilbo went outside the tent and sat alone wrapped in a blanket, and he wept until his eyes were red and his voice was hoarse.

"You are a fool, Bilbo Baggins," he said at last to himself, "and you made a great mess of that business with the stone; and there was a battle, in spite of all your efforts to buy peace and quiet."

Shortly after, Gandalf was outside as well, and when he saw Bilbo against a tree, hugging his legs and his head resting on his knees, he went to his side and sat next to him, surrounding the little hobbit with a kind hug.

"Why did I do it, Gandalf…?" Bilbo finally spoke, huskily, raising his head a little to look at the wizard. "All I wanted… was this not to happen… All I wanted was peace… and- I just wish…" Choked up, he paused.

"Don't be hard to yourself, Bilbo…," Gandalf replied in a deep voice, comforting him, "This didn't happen because of you. It wasn't your fault, in any way. Your intentions were good, but all this couldn't have been prevented from happening. Thorin's sickness and the battle, somehow they were meant to happen."

"No, but… I…," Bilbo continued with his voice broken, and sighed, "… Thorin was right… I was a burden… I had no place here… why did I come…?"

"Because you knew you had to," the wizard answered calmly, "because you wanted to help-"

"But what help, Gandalf…?" the hobbit interrupted him, tears falling down his cheeks, "What help did I give to them?"

"A friend's help…," Gandalf smiled slightly, "you knew you had to help an unknown friend. It may not have ended the way you expected. We can't expect everything to happen the way we want to, but it might end up the way we need to. Thorin's death might not be the best of this quest, but you did help the Company: you helped them return to their home, and that's the best thing you have done for them."

After listening to the grey wizard's words, Bilbo turned his head and thought. Just thought, about the day that Gandalf appeared at his door while he was smoking rings, about the night that the dwarves had dinner at his house and sang some songs, about the morning that he found himself running towards an unexpected adventure, about all he had just lived, about the good and bad things that had happened during those months of going through great dangers, meeting strange creatures and making new friends.

After some minutes of meditating, Bilbo returned to the present and talked again. "You know something, Gandalf?" he asked thoughtfully, "I think I want to write a book. A book about all this. My adventure." Then he looked up back at him, his eyes still wet but with a new expression in his look.

"That would be wonderful, my dear Bilbo." Gandalf replied as a full smile appeared in his face, and embraced his hobbit friend tightly.