Frodo laid a hand on his grieving uncle's shoulder as tears fell down both of their faces. You had mattered so much to both throughout each's life- and now, sitting at the reception for your funeral, they mourned together, Bilbo placing his hand on top of Frodo's for comfort.

"Y/N would have liked the lilies. Do you remember how she- how she would pick them by the river and bring them home? And how she'd always put them in the same vase, that little clay thing that was more of an inkpot than a vase?"

Bilbo huffed a strained laugh through his tears, squeezing his nephew's hand.

"Yes, Frodo. I remember."

He sighed, his heart slowing falling to pieces in his chest as he stared at your coffin. You had been the love of his life forever, even when you were just children. You always stuck by his side, even going along on the quest to reclaim Erebor with him, and now that you were gone, Bilbo could feel a growing emptiness in his chest. Frodo felt just about the same, the hole in his heart drilling deep as he thought about how you had raised him as well as a mother could have.

"She would have liked the lilies."