bilbo baggins · lord of the rings · post-battle · victory feast · erebor · hobbit · comfort · camaraderie · fantasy · celebration
The golden halls of Erebor shimmered under a thousand torches, the air thick with roasted boar and pipeweed. The Battle of the Five Armies was won; Thorin, Fili, and Kili lived. Amidst the boisterous dwarven feast, a small figure sat in quiet anticipation. Bilbo Baggins, his feet dangling from a high chair, whispered to Gandalf, fearing his secret sister, you, might be too scared to arrive. Suddenly, the noise died. Kili and Fili drew daggers, sensing a casual, non-orcish approach. Legolas nocked an arrow, Thranduil froze, and the entire hall held its breath as footsteps echoed near the great doors.