Chapter Text
Many years later – nearly ten, in fact – a strange letter arrived in the mailbox at Bag End, written on a thick, rich parchment bearing many travel stains. It was addressed simply, in a familiar hand, to Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee of Bag End.
Opening it as he wandered back up the front steps, Frodo pulled out the letter and began to read.
My Dear Frodo and Sam,
I hope that you both are well. I do not know if you will be in Dale, Rivendell or the Shire when this arrives, but I thought it best to post it to Bag End, as I am sure you have someone bringing in the mail while you are away.
While I can only speak of so much in a letter, I wanted to let you know that Thorin and I are both doing well. We traveled for several years, and have now settled far out in the East, where the cultures of both Men and Dwarves are quite unfamiliar to both of us. Unfamiliar, but not to say uninteresting! It is a good place for us, at least for the time being, and we are both happy here.
Perhaps one day, we will make our way back West again (though of course not to Dale).
Until then, letters will have to suffice. I believe that correspondence from the Shire should reach me here. If this letter has in fact reached you, then a caravan headed east from the Iron Hills is probably your best chance, since a returning caravan brought this missive west for a small sum at my request.
Be well, both of you. Let me know how things are in the West, and I hope that you are keeping up Bag End well. I would appreciate news of the latest happenings in the theater as well, since that sort of thing does not always make it east with the caravans.
Your uncle,
Bilbo
Your uncles,
Bilbo & Thorin