It was six months away but the party was already in the planning stages. It was to celebrate Bilbo’s one year anniversary of coming home from his travels. It gave him something to do, something to think about and he was busy writing out the invitations even though they wouldn’t be sent out for some weeks yet. This one though, he passed it to and from one hand to another, this one would need to be sent soon. Bilbo looked at the address. Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain. He hoped he’d come, hoped he’d forgotten those last bitter words.