Returning Home: A Hobbit Fanfiction

Chapter 5 - Life in the Shire, Part 2

 ~~Elena~~

Elena jerked awake with a sudden gasp. Hastily rubbing the sleep from her brown eyes, she grabbed her sketchbook from where she kept it on her nightstand by the bed and stood up. Fumbling in the darkness, she managed to light the candle that she kept by her bedside. Blinking at the sudden light in the room, she impatiently waited for her eyes to adjust before grabbing her sketch bag and quietly creeping out of the room. 

Even though she and Celia were by this point sleeping in separate rooms (after repeated offerings of his other room from Bilbo), it was still easy for sound to pass through the walls, and she had no desire to wake up Bilbo or her sister, especially at this early hour of the morning.

Creeping into the living room, she froze suddenly at the sight of Bilbo sitting there in his armchair, holding a cup of tea, a low fire burning in the fireplace and a few candles lit beside him. Unfortunately, she picked the wrong spot to step, and the floorboard beneath her creaked as she tried to leave the room.

 Bilbo jumped in his seat at the sound, not expecting anyone else to be up. Swiftly scanning the room, his alert features relaxed as he spotted Elena standing hesitantly by the doorway. 

"What are you doing up?" he called to her softly, setting his cup on a nearby table. Elena shrugged, coming a little further into the room. 

"I could say the same to you. Had a... strange dream, I guess you could say; and I wanted to capture the details before I forgot," she said, holding up her sketchbook with one hand. 

Bilbo nodded. "I suppose that makes sense. Not that I'd particularly want to remember mine," he muttered softly, half to himself. Elena looked at him curiously. 

"Did... did you have a nightmare, Uncle Bilbo?" she asked with concern, taking a seat near the foot of his armchair.

Bilbo shrugged reluctantly, not really wanting to answer her. "It... was unpleasant, yes," he admitted. "But I'm used to it. I'll survive," he said, watching as Elena opened her sketchbook to an open page and began rifling through her pencils that had somehow lasted the nine months since they had came to this world, despite her numerous sketches. Knowing he didn't really want to discuss the matter, Elena made herself appear to focus on the drawing as she began to sketch. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked casually, keeping her tone light. "I know that whenever Celia or I had nightmares, we always felt better if we talked about it." Bilbo shrugged noncommittally, watching as Elena's drawing began to take shape. After a few moments of silence, as Elena sketched in the light of the fire and candles, Bilbo spoke up. 

"I'm not really used to having anyone to talk to," he said hesitantly. "I suppose I haven't for some time, now," he said, a sad smile playing about his lips. Elena felt her heart give a twinge at that. She knew that Bilbo had lost his parents some time ago, but she had assumed that he had had someone to talk to, at least. Apparently she had been wrong. 

"There's us," she said softly. "I mean, you're like family to me and Celia now, and I hope you see us the same way. I mean, you let us come to you when we had bad dreams, or were sick or whatever, and needed someone to talk to. We can do the same to you, too," she said awkwardly. 

Bilbo gave that sad half-smile again. "Don't worry, Elena. You and your sister have become like family to me, as well. Like I said, I'm just not used to having anyone to talk too. My parents were... killed, when I was just a tween. I have nightmares about it sometimes, but I've learned to cope," he said, shrugging like it was no big deal. 

Elena's eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, Bilbo!" she whispered softly. "I had no idea!" 

Bilbo smiled a little. "That was rather the point," he reminded her gently. "Now, what are you drawing?" he asked, his tone marking the end of that particular conversation.