"I will take your gift, O Bilbo the Magnificent!" said the king gravely. "And I name you elf-friend and blessed..." - The Hobbit, Chapter XVIII, The Return Journey
Things past, present and future seem threaded through this sparkling scene in the midst of Bilbo Baggins' "back again" journey near the close of The Hobbit. When Tolkien first penned this episode of the little hobbit offering Dain's necklace of silver and pearls to the proud Elvenking at the edge of Mirkwood, it could be read as quite self-contained. But, readers of The Silmarillion, The Lord of the Rings, Unfinished Tales, and other sources may sense both echoes and foreshadowing in the exchange.
The Battle of Five Armies has been won, thanks to a significant alliance of some of the chief free folk of Middle-earth and despite multiple layers of historic and recent internal conflict. Both the elves and the dwarves have lost loved ones in the affray, yet of this return journey, J.R.R. Tolkien notes, "...many were glad, for now the northern world would be merrier for many a long day. The dragon was dead, and the goblins overthrown, and their hearts looked forward after winter to a spring of joy."
In fact, one of the travelers is positively jolly. Beorn is loudly laughing and singing the whole way to the edge of the forest. No wonder Bilbo and Gandalf are pleased to continue the journey with him to spend Yule at his house! As the company breaks up, Bilbo offers Thranduil a kingly gift in recompense for the food and drink he burgled during Thorin and Company's captivity. Is it merely the hobbit's handsome act which earns him the extremely special title of "elf-friend", or is it possible to read this in the context of the larger legendarium as a moment of insight coming upon the golden-haired king of the elves of Mirkwood as to the unique role that will be played by Bilbo and his kin?
This isn't the kind of question the world could have played with in 1937, but it is one of the moments in The Hobbit that tie it in to The Lord of the Rings and to Frodo, whom other elves will hail with that same honorific: elf-friend.
Meanwhile, because jewels are seldom mere adornment in Tolkien, it is heartening to see this depiction of generosity surrounding a precious object. Hobbits are rarely greedy, except in the matter of mushrooms, but both dwarves and elves have a long history of being overmastered by acquisitiveness in the presence of shiny baubles.
In particular, Dain's necklace calls to mind the truly horrific tale of the Nauglamír. That spectacular necklace crafted by First Age dwarves to house a perilous Silmaril for King Elu Thingol of Doriath leads to shocking bloodshed. The more coveted the treasure, whether it be a jewel or a ring, the more it tends to ensnare otherwise-good folk in Tolkien's writings. How refreshing, then, to witness the free hand of Bilbo throughout The Hobbit in which he is as ready to give away silver and pearls as he would be to bestow a hobbit mathom on his birthday.
Indeed, it is rather charming to think that the Elvenking might be learning a valuable lesson in this interesting scene. I do so love Thranduil. For me, the presence of him and his folk at the vanishing feast in Mirkwood were my first touchstone of deep Tolkien Faërie. He is majestic. He is mysterious. He is the father of brave Legolas. The wood-elves may not be as wise as other branches of their kindred, but their gaiety and courage are unforgettable. Who else would dare to maintain a realm in a tree-tangled web of spiders, and with the Necromancer for a neighbor? Thranduil has no Elven Ring with which to safeguard his domain. He is merely valiant.
But I can't say I love him for his magnanimity. While I'm always relieved to realize that the Elvenking's capture of the dwarves probably saves their lives by finally getting them out of Mirkwood, he does not behave well towards these poor lost and starving wanderers. It is the same old story: the dwarves are too greedy to confess the object of their adventure to their captor, and the elves appear never to forget historic enmities. No one has yet laid a finger on Smaug's hoard, but everyone save Bilbo is acting wrongly.
Nevertheless, I am so fascinated by the Mirkwood elves that I wish this autumnal scene with the necklace went on for pages. In my illustration, however, you can glimpse the fortress-like hills under which the elves live in the misty distance, and to which they retreat all too quickly after taking leave of Gandalf, Bilbo, and Beorn.
I would like to think that as he rides victorious to his great gate, the Elvenking is thinking of Bilbo's freely-bestowed gift. If Thorin was able to achieve hobbit enlightenment on his deathbed as to the superiority of food and cheer over hoarded gold, might not Thranduil be impacted in a similar way by his "more than chance" encounter with little Bilbo? I endeavored to invoke a sense of introspection in the mild gravity of the Elvenking's face in my illustration, and I hope you will enjoy this video short of the scene. Bilbo's abashedness in addressing the tall king, and Thranduil's bestowal of the name of elf-friend set them a little apart from the traveling company in a moment of time which neither would, perhaps, ever forget.
As we know, another treasure lies hidden in Bilbo's pocket: the One Ring. His fate is bound up in it, as is the fate of his heir, and its finding and destruction will hasten the departure of all elves from Middle-earth. It's a fleeting time and while it lasted, who would not have gloried in being called "elf-friend"? Yet, for all their splendor, too many elves were never so wise as Bilbo when it came to material things. If only Fëanor and his seven sons had learned to let go of the Silmarils as the small hobbit lets go of his rightful full share of Smaug's hoard, the Arkenstone, a gorgeous necklace, and even the One Ring. Like Thranduil, we all have much we can learn from the example of Bilbo Baggins.