Oooooh.
It would have been hard for him. Not just the journey (he’s a VERY elderly hobbit, after all) but.
Looking at certain places, certain areas in the Mountain. Of course, many things would have been VASTLY different, all that time… but different enough not to prick and prod at those memories? I don’t know…
Still, he would have been delighted to see and spend time with his old friends, all together at last.
There would have been some… very obvious vacancies.
(Silence is sucked into those gaps around the table, sinking heavier into the pauses where another is expected to take up the tale, or to shout their indignation… but they’re not there. They’re not there, and there’s a gap, a breath, and the silence sinks into it a little deeper every time.)
Imagine, all of them spending time together, and then maybe one of the Dwarves mentions something, or perhaps Bilbo begins a particular story… only for the words to trip and stutter to a halt upon a particular name. Balin. Oin. Ori. Fili. Kili.
Tho-
Are you all right, lad? You’ve gone quite pale.
You’re one to talk, your beard’s turned whiter than my hair. And I’m perfectly all right. Just a momentary catch in the throat.