Chapter Text
Chapter One
It was the largest gathering of royalty, nobility, and wizards to be held in an age. It was certainly the largest that Dale, great kingdom that it had once been and, with the blessing of the Valar, would be again, had ever hosted. It really was no wonder, Fíli mused to himself, that King Bard looked so stressed about the whole affair.
Kings Thorin and Thranduil sat on opposite ends of the long, pine table that one of Bard’s advisors had miraculously managed to dig up. Dale had seen much improvement since Smaug’s demise, to be sure, but it had been less than a year, one with an abnormally harsh winter at that, and this was hardly enough time to restore such a large kingdom to its former glory. Fíli had firsthand knowledge of this truth, because Erebor was in much the same state.
Fíli was sitting at Thorin’s right, with Lord Dáin on his uncle’s left. Thranduil, too, had his heir, the Prince Legolas, and one of his closet advisors on either side of his person. In between these two most temperamental kings sat the Wizards Grey and Brown, Gandalf and Radagast, the kings of Gondor, Rohan, and, of course, Dale, Gondor’s Queen and her father, the Lord Elrond, the Lady Galadriel and her husband, the brother Lords Boromir and Faramir, Lady Éowyn, and Gimli, who had claimed the chair directly beside the Prince of Mirkwood’s without any hesitation.
To the consternation of Thranduil, his sour-faced advisor, and Dáin, and the bewilderment of Thorin and Fíli himself, Gimli and Legolas had enjoyed exchanging a steady stream of light banter with one another until the moment that Gandalf had called for the summit to begin. No one else had taken any real notice of their behavior, which had led Fíli to the remarkable conclusion that such was normal for them. No wonder Thranduil looked as if he had bitten into a lemon.
Glóin was going to have an Oliphaunt-sized cow.
“Saruman wants, above all else, Bella Baggins dead.”
And, just like that, all thoughts regarding Gimli and Legolas went up in smoke. Fíli turned wide eyes toward Gandalf, whose features were as grim as the pronouncement that he had just uttered.
“Keeping her far away from him and alive is of paramount importance,” the Lady Galadriel spoke.
“Where is she now?” Fíli asked in near-desperation, “Is she here?”
If she was, then Fíli would be going to her immediately, propriety be damned. Thorin could be as angry as he liked, but Fíli had already anguished over his lost little sister for far too long.
“No,” it was Thranduil who answered, haughty and condescending, “She is safely ensconced within the Greenwood.”
Fíli deflated at that announcement.
“Whether or not that shall change remains to be seen,” Lord Elrond said next, “And is the reason for us gathering here this evening.”
“We have a proposition for you, King Under the Mountain,” Gandalf illuminated gravely, “We ask that you publicly recant Bella’s banishment and allow her to reside within your halls until such a time as Saruman has been defeated and his disgusting children, the Urak-Hai, have been wiped out from this world.”
Thorin didn’t react, but Dáin did.
“How dare you!” the Dwarf-lord thundered, “Why should my cousin ever agree to such a thing? That Halfling is nothing more than a traitor and a thief!”
Fíli opened his mouth to give Dáin a piece of his mind, but Aragorn managed to speak first, “The Princess is half of nothing. Every being in Arda owes her their lives. She saved us all, including you, Lord Dáin.”
Fíli decided that the King of Gondor was quite alright in his book.
“Princess?” Dáin sputtered, “What’s this fresh nonsense?”
“King Aragorn, the High King over all the kingdoms of Men bowed down before her,” Lady Éowyn told Dáin with a fierce glare, “This act declared her royalty more surely than any other could have. She is honored by all Men as the Sunrise Princess, the courageous girl who ended Sauron’s night and brought hope and light back to Middle Earth.”
“You will be hard-pressed to find an Elf who does not also afford her such admiration,” Queen Arwen chimed in, throwing Dáin a look of cold disdain, “Though that might mean little to you.”
“She is my sister,” Fíli reminded Dáin sharply, “Which, according to our laws, makes her a member of Erebor’s Royal Family, banished or not. I would have to ritually disown her for this to change, which will not ever happen.”
“No one here has yet to provide a good reason for Princess Bella’s banishment to be retracted,” Dáin finally said through gritted teeth.
“Protect the Princess,” Aragorn turned directly to Thorin, who had been strangely silent, “And you shall gain allies across Arda. Your people nearly starved to death during the long winter last year; such alliances will ensure that you never have to worry about that happening again.”
“The Iron Hills is more than capable of feeding those in Erebor,” Dáin countered.
“And when the rest of King Thorin’s people arrive from the Blue Mountains?” Lord Faramir asked, “Will the Iron Hills be able to support all of them?”
Dáin remained silent.
The answer to Faramir’s query, Fíli knew, was a resounding no. It was why the dwarves of Erebor had been barred from seeking refuge in the Iron Hills when Smaug had first descended from the north all those years ago. Time had not changed the fact that the granaries of the Iron Hills were not nearly vast enough to keep Erebor’s people fed.
“I command the Dúnedain Rangers in the west,” Aragorn continued, “They know secret, swift passages to the east and will be able to bring your people back to Erebor on paths far safer than the Great East Road or any others.”
Thorin’s eyes brightened at that, and Fíli knew that he was thinking of Fíli and Kíli’s mother, Thorin’s sister, finally getting to come back to Erebor. To return to the home that she should never have been forced to part from.
Dáin scoffed, “Dwarves have always managed without help from outsiders and we’ll continue too.”
Fíli wanted to pummel Dáin something fierce.
“Moria,” Gandalf all but blurted out, “Take Bella into your kingdom, keep her safe and happy, and you’ll have the assistance of the White Council in reclaiming Moria.”
Every soul save for the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Elrond stared at the Grey Wizard with a combination of shock, horror, and awe.
“I don’t see why the Ringbearer has to go to Erebor at all,” King Thranduil finally said, glancing between the members of the White Council as if assessing their sanity and finding it severely lacking, “She is more than welcome in my kingdom and won’t have to worry about the Mountain’s serious deficit of sunlight and things that grow.”
“If my sister desires plants, then I’ll build her a garden,” Fíli retorted heatedly, “She belongs with her kin, not in a place where darkness is allowed to fester.”
“The Greenwood is healing,” Thranduil’s advisor protested.
“Because of Bella,” Fíli replied sharply, “Not because of anything that anyone in the Woodland Realm did.”
“You forget that the King has not given his consent,” Dáin scolded, a gleam of unmistakable greed in his eyes that made Fíli ill. No doubt he was imagining how much more could be gotten out of those who worried so terribly over Bél’s safety. Fíli hated him.
“Done,” everyone started at Thorin’s loud declaration, “I consent to your terms. As of this moment, Bella Mira Baggins is welcome to return to Erebor without fear and shall be considered a protected citizen of my kingdom.”
Gandalf, Galadriel, and Elrond were instantly relieved. Far more relieved than three people who had just agreed to fight a blasted Balrog had any right to be. Fíli was starting to agree with Thranduil’s assessment of their sanity, which was irking, because he didn’t want to agree with the tree-shagger about anything if at all possible.
“I’ll deliver her to the Secret Door in three days’ time,” Gandalf announced, “I know that a Presentation will be required, but other than that, you will not parade her around a bunch of people she does not know, at least not until she says that she is ready for such a thing.”
Apparently, now that Gandalf had gotten what he wanted, he was more than happy to revert to his normal bossy self. Fíli would have found it more irritating if he were not currently rejoicing in the knowledge that his little Bél was coming home.
“Now that that’s all settled,” Bard declared, “Let’s have some wine to celebrate.”
The wine was called for and the group gradually rose from their seats to speak to those individuals that they wished to in a bit more privacy. Fíli went over to Gimli as soon as he was able.
“You’re leaving,” Fíli said without preamble, “Aren’t you?”
“I will see Saruman’s head on a pike,” Gimli replied, “I have personal reason to despise him, but I also swore to fight this war and will not return here until it is ended. Look after my Namad-Imad carefully. She needs you and the others more than you can currently imagine, and far more than she will let on. That Mahal-damned Ring broke a part of her that only time and a great deal of love will fix, Fíli.”
Fíli stared at his cousin. Gimli had rarely spoken so much at one time and never with such seriousness before.
“You’ve grown up, Gimli.”
“Aye,” Gimli winked, “But don’t let anyone else catch on.”
“Bél will want for nothing,” Fíli swore, “And certainly not love.”
Gimli grinned and withdrew a crinkled letter from his pocket, “Good. By the way, could you pass this along to Adad? He’ll kill me if I don’t give him some kind of explanation about what happened.”
“He’s very proud of you,” Fíli reassured, taking the note and putting it in the pocket inside his coat.
“I wonder if he’ll stay that way,” Gimli mused, although he then refused to elaborate on his meaning.
The gathering broke up soon after and Fíli raced ahead of his uncle and Dáin, the latter of whom was chiding the former over settling for so paltry a deal as getting back Moria. It was not a conversation Fíli wished to have any part in.
The rest of the Company was waiting for him in the Royal Parlor, anxious eagerness plainly writ upon their faces.
“Well?” Kíli demanded as soon as Fíli entered the spacious room, “What happened? Was Bél there? Did you see her?”
“No,” Fíli replied, and the entire group wilted, “She stayed in Mirkwood for the summit. However, we’ll all be seeing her very soon. Thorin has lifted her banishment and she’ll be staying, with us, in Erebor, until the White Wizard has been vanquished.”
“She’s coming home,” Kíli whispered, as if afraid that speaking too loudly would make the statement untrue, “Truly, Fee?”
“Truly,” Fíli assured his brother, “Gandalf will be escorting her here in three days’ time.
“Thorin agreed to this?” Dwalin asked in amazement.
“Eventually,” Fíli admitted, “After the White Council pledged their services in helping Thorin reclaim Moria, as soon as Saruman has been killed.”
“They vowed to face the Balrog? That’s madness!” Nori exclaimed.
“Quite,” Balin agreed, “For the White Council to be so terribly desperate as to make such a dangerous bargain… the threat to Bella’s life must be grave indeed. Far greater than any of us calculated, at least.”
But even this unsettling news could not keep the band of dwarrows somber for very long.
“We have so many preparations to make,” Ori cried, “I made a list of books that I thought she’d like as I catalogued them. I need to go find them all.”
“I need to get my cooks acquainted with her favorite recipes,” Bombur said, “So they can prepare them for her.”
“We need to finish furnishing her rooms,” Kíli added.
“And we need to put the finishing touches on the weapons,” Glóin chimed in.
“She’ll almost certainly need new clothes made for her. Mahal only knows what those elves have provided for her,” Dori fretted, “Certainly nothing warm enough to withstand the winter. I do hope that the merchants in Dale and Esgaroth still have some of those lovely muslins and fine silks and velvets in their inventory.
‘The Loom,’ Bifur signed.
“Aye,” Bofur nodded, “We’ll need to get that completed.”
“We need to locate a suitable place for a garden,” Fíli informed them, “Preferably a large one that gets lots of sunshine.”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” Glóin slapped Fíli on the back.
“Bella takes comfort from growing things,” Óin agreed, “Maybe a place big enough for a few small trees?”
“There are several spots where we could construct a garden,” Balin stroked his long, white beard thoughtfully, “But we’ll need Thorin’s permission before we can move forward with any alterations.”
Kíli scowled at that.
“Now, now, laddie,” Balin reminded patiently, “No matter our quarrel with him, he is still our King and this is his Mountain. We can do nothing without his consent. Besides, he did give us leave to work on Bella’s suite, did he not?”
“Only cause Fee and I threatened to abdicate,” Kíli replied.
“He’ll give us permission,” Fíli announced quickly, to remove the scowl that had no place being on his little brother’s face, “If only to spite Thranduil. We also need to set up a rotation.”
“A rotation?” Nori questioned, “For what?”
“For our sister. At least one of us needs to be with her at all times. I spoke to Gimli,” and that got everyone’s complete attention, “He was at the summit but he won’t be coming to the Mountain yet; he’s got a bone to pick with Saruman and he’s sworn to help defeat the disgraced Wizard. Anyway, he implied that Bella, well, that she’s not as alright as most everyone would like to believe she is and that she is, as a point of fact, in desperate need of us.”
“She carried that wretched Ring for months and months,” Ori said quietly, “And was all by herself toward the end.”
“We’ll be there for her,” Dwalin declared, “Whether she thinks that she needs us or not. She’ll never be alone like that again.”
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Bella was trembling with fury and she could care less about who saw it.
“So basically,” she summed up, glaring at Gandalf, “You lot decided to sneak off to a secret meeting, flying astride the Giant Eagles of Manwë Súlimo no less, to decide my future and didn’t see fit to tell me about it until right now.”
“If we had told you that we were going to go meet with Thorin,” Gandalf explained, “Then you would have tried to forbid us from doing so and, when that failed, would have just snuck out of Mirkwood on your own. No matter how foolish it would have been.”
“Greenwood,” Thranduil stressed in protest.
Gandalf ignored him, “Thorin has recanted your banishment and has agreed to allow you to live in Erebor for the time being.”
“And what, in the Green Lady’s name, did you have to promise to get him to do such a thing?” Bella challenged at once.
“Bella-”
“Don’t you ‘Bella’ me, Gandalf!” Bella shouted, her ire finally truly surfacing, “Did it never occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be within a hundred miles of the Dwarf that tried to kill me over a stupid, Valar-damned rock?”
“You’re more than welcome to stay here,” Thranduil offered, though his speech was, once again, disregarded by the Maiar of the Grey persuasion.
“I did think of it, in fact,” Gandalf confessed, “But I was also reasonably sure that you would be willing to overlook Thorin’s actions, as atrocious as they were, for the chance to be with your brothers again.”
Bella did miss her brothers. She missed Balin’s steady wisdom and Dwalin’s gruff but true affection. She missed the jokes Bofur told that made her laugh and blush simultaneously. She missed Bombur’s jolly smiles as they traded recipes and witnessing Bifur’s kindness to even the smallest creatures. She missed talking with Óin about healing herbs and plants. She missed how Glóin could go on for hours about those he cared about. She missed Dori’s fussiness and Ori’s tales. She missed Nori teaching her how to be a trickster, like he was. She missed Fíli and Kíli’s exuberance and zeal for life. She missed Fíli teaching her how to properly fight with Sting and Kíli teaching her how to shoot with his bow; how they’d all been amazed and proud at how well she could throw knives and had decided to instruct her in how to fight with them. But…
“You have no proof that they want anything at all to do with me!” Bella yelled, voicing her fears, before succumbing to tears.
“They do,” Gimli spoke up, moving to Bella’s side, “Fíli was at the summit. He was so happy when he learned that he might see you again.”
“He promised to build you a garden,” Thranduil interjected, “You should certainly hold him to that.”
“He was deeply saddened when he was told that you were not already in Dale,” Arwen offered, “If you had been, he would have abandoned the summit gladly just to see you, Mellon.”
Bella wanted terribly to believe them. To believe that her dear brothers and darling sister missed her and wanted her with them again.
“You’re expected in Erebor in three days,” Gandalf told her, “So you have until tomorrow afternoon to make a decision. If you truly do not wish to go to the Mountain, then we shall not make you, my dear Bella, but I do honestly believe that you’ll safest and happiest there.”
“I’m beyond angry with you,” Bella stated plainly, “You had no right to go behind my back as you did. I’m not a child that needs to be coddled; I’m an adult who is quite capable of taking care of herself. Right now though, I’m exhausted and I want to go to bed. I’ll speak to you further about all of this in the morning.”
And Bella marched off to her room, without wishing any of them a ‘good night’. The Baggins in her rebelled against such a blatant lack of manners, but her Took side rejoiced in the vindication she felt at the act.
The absolute nerve of her friends!
How dare they treat her as if she were a defenseless fauntling. She was thirty-eight years old, well, almost anyway. How many times did she have to prove that she could take care of herself, thank you very much? It was annoying, insulting, exasperating, positively vexing and… Bella knew full well that they only behaved in such a way because they cared so much for her. This didn’t excuse their actions in any way, not in the least bit, but it did explain them.
Bella huffed as she climbed into the far too large and equally as too soft bed that Thranduil had provided for her stay in his kingdom. As irritating and overprotective as her friends could be, she still preferred having them over the alternative. Spending the rest of her life, alone, in Bag End, with only her nosy and judgmental relatives to keep her company.
She had been sure this would be her fate, once upon a time, sure that she would never truly care for, or be cared by, anybody ever again. Then thirteen Dwarrow invaded her respectable life without warning and everything changed all at once for Bella Mira Baggins.
Fíli and Kíli had accepted her from the start, roping her into their antics and games and eagerly trading stories with her. They had eagerly, and to the consternation of their uncle, named her their ‘Namad’, their sister, a day after the Company had departed from Rivendell. Because they had acted first, they would always be her eldest brothers, never mind that they were only actually older than Ori.
To solidify this bond between them, they had presented Bella with a set of twin silver bracelets, each set with a single tiny amethyst, which had protective runes painstakingly engraved into the thin bands. The bracelets had been surprisingly heavy for their size, although not hardly enough so to be a burden to her. Instead, the weight had been a comfort, a reminder that she was loved, that she carried with her for the rest of the Quest.
She had carried the bracelets all the way to Mount Doom too, and wore them even then. The knowledge that her brothers would surely perish should she fail in her mission to destroy the Ring had been enough to spur her on through the dark and to emerge the victor.
In the weeks that followed Fíli and Kíli’s claiming of her as their kin, the others had come to care deeply for her as well, even Thorin, after Bella had saved the prickly Dwarf’s life from Azog. By the time that the Company had reached Laketown, Bella had gained ten more brothers and a sister.
Tauriel had been as much of a surprise as anything else on the Quest. Bella had first seen Thranduil’s niece crouched outside of Kíli’s cell, whispering to the dwarrow through the bars about starlight and moonlight and every other kind of celestial glow. Bella had not believed in love at first sight until then, but she could not afterwards deny that Kíli and Tauriel had fallen hard and fast for each other in Mirkwood.
Tauriel had eventually helped Bella free her dwarves from Thranduil’s prisons and then, to Thorin’s dismay, had joined the Company as Kíli’s intended. Once they had made it inside of Erebor, via the Secret Door, and were face to face with Smaug, Tauriel had provided Kíli with the black-tipped arrow that the other had sent flying straight into the Dragon’s heart, killing the monster in seconds.
Thranduil had shown up at Erebor’s gates a few days later, with two armies, one comprised of his elves and the second made up of men from Esgaroth, at his back, and, among other things, banished Tauriel for her actions. He had lifted the banishment only days later, after the Battle of the Five Armies had been won, but Tauriel had so far refused to leave Bard’s home in Dale, no matter what her uncle plied her with.
Bella didn’t know whether or not Tauriel was allowed inside Erebor, although she suspected the answer was ‘no’, which made Bella angry on her sister’s behalf.
If Bella agreed to go to Erebor, would she get to visit Tauriel? Surely Kíli visited her as often as he possibly could, but would Bella, someone Thorin considered a traitor, be allowed to come and go as she pleased? Or would she be treated as a prisoner, albeit one that Thorin had to take good care of lest he bring the wrath of the White Council down on his head?
Why had Thorin lifted her banishment at all? Could she live in a place where nearly everyone, assuming that Gimli was not mistaken and her brothers really did want her back, was sure to hate and resent her? Could she face the Dwarven-king that she still loved, day after day, knowing that he had cast her utterly from his heart?
These questions kept her awake for a long time and when she finally did find sleep, it did not bring her any sort of peace.
Bella was running
She was sprinting through stone halls that seemed to stretch before her for forever and a day. She twisted around corner after corner until she finally reached a heavy set of doors adorned with a sprawling golden Dragon, inlaid seamlessly into the dark oak and sporting a large ruby for an eye. She shoved them open.
Thorin was on his knees, held there by a pair of Dwarrow with flawlessly curled black beards, the likes of which Bella had never seen before, while a third dwarrow with a golden belt covered in strange runes held Orcrist to Thorin’s exposed throat. The King was as defiant as ever and majestic even as he stared death in the face.
Bella was suddenly grabbed from behind and prevented from lunging at Thorin’s captors.
“Bella!” Thorin shouted and now, now his bravery faltered and fear showed. Fear not for himself, but for her.
In the end, it didn’t matter.
Orcrist cleaved Thorin’s head from his shoulders, blood splattering everywhere.
And Bella screamed.
“Bella!”
Bella jerked awake and found herself in Arwen’s arms, “They’re going to kill him!”
“Kill who?” Galadriel asked from beside Bella’s bed.
No one else was in Bella’s chamber, “Was I screaming?”
“Only in your mind,” Galadriel assured, “Arwen and I were the only ones close enough to notice your distress.”
“Who’s getting killed, Bella?” Arwen asked gently, after Bella had nodded at Galadriel and then remained silent.
“Thorin,” Bella whispered, “A group of Dwarrow killed him and I couldn’t stop them.”
“Did you see their faces?” Galadriel inquired.
“No,” Bella admitted, “Their faces were blurry but they had curled black beards.”
Galadriel looked surprised, “Blacklocks.”
“What?”
“Blacklocks are the only Dwarven clan to curl their hair,” Arwen revealed, “With heated rocks. But, most of them live far to the east in Rhûn, in the mountain range near the Inland Sea of Helcar. Their former king had little to do with Erebor when Thrór ruled, I think it unlikely that their new king shall act differently. The Blacklocks do not enjoy interacting with any of the other Dwarven clans.”
“Why would I dream of them?” Bella asked.
“Sometimes dreams are more than dreams,” Galadriel said with a tenderness that helped soften the blow of her words, “It is possible that you saw something that has yet to come to pass.”
“The future,” Bella blanched, “Thorin is going to be killed.”
“Not for certain,” Galadriel soothed, “The future can be altered by even the smallest thing. And there is still the possibility that you were merely dreaming, dear one. You’ve had many bad dreams as of late.”
Bella acknowledged that this was true and eventually managed to convince Gondor’s Queen and her Lady Grandmother that she was well enough to go back to sleep. But Bella stayed awake until the dawn came, warring with herself for several hours before finally accepting that her decision had been made the moment she realized that Thorin could be in danger.
She didn’t know if her dream was a portent of things to come or not, but vision of the future or nightmare, it had made an irrevocable impact on her. She would be going to Erebor.
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Fíli paused for only a few moments before knocking on the door to his uncle’s study.
“Enter,” Thorin called, and Fíli did so quickly, finding the other penning a missive of some kind at his desk.
It took a minute for Thorin to finish and look up at him.
“Fíli,” Thorin spoke with surprise, which was understandable given that Fíli had rarely spoken to him in private since Bella had been cast out over the blasted Arkenstone, and only after Thorin had instructed Fíli to lock the gem up in the vaults for reasons that the King refused to share.
This was more than Kíli acknowledged their uncle, at least, for Fíli’s younger brother had not deigned to speak a word to Thorin since the day he realized that their sister had vanished without a trace and that Tauriel had to remain in Dale.
“Your Majesty,” Fíli greeted, prompting a slight wince from Thorin. Fíli’s use of the honorific was not an accolade of any kind, and Thorin knew it.
“What do you need, Fíli?” Thorin asked with a sigh.
“Your permission to make alterations to one of the balconies on the western side of the Mountain,” Fíli replied.
Thorin gave him a bewildered look, “What in Mahal’s name for?”
“A garden.”
“For Bella,” Thorin realized, “You wish to build a garden for Bella.”
“I told Thranduil that I would with over a dozen witnesses.”
“So you did,” Thorin recognized, “But I’m very sure that you would have come to me with this request regardless.”
Fíli didn’t bother to argue the point. Thorin’s assumption was not incorrect and to claim otherwise would have been a falsehood. He’d lived with his uncle long enough to know that lying would get him absolutely nowhere so he settled for merely raising an eyebrow.
“Make sure that you select a balcony on one of the highest levels,” Thorin told him, “We’ll have far less to worry about when it comes to assassins that way. And encase the entire place in a steel net before you let her into it. You’ll have time enough to do this; she will not be able to plant anything until spring comes.”
Those words were enough to cause Fíli to forget himself for a moment, “Thank you, Uncle!”
“Her rooms are ready, I suppose?” Thorin asked.
“Nearly,” Fíli replied, “Dori decided during the luncheon hour that the suite needs more throw pillows, so he rushed off to Dale an hour ago to find some and dragged Balin along with him.”
“Have you considered assigning her bodyguards?”
“Dwalin has two picked out for her,” Fíli snorted, “But getting her to agree to let them follow her around is going to be a feat and a half. If I try ordering her to, she’ll be slipping away from them every chance that she gets.”
“She cannot be left unattended,” Thorin said firmly, “Not while so many of Dáin’s men remain in this kingdom. It wouldn’t be safe for her.”
“She won’t be,” Fíli informed him, “The others and I have made certain of it. One of us will always be with her. It won’t interfere with any of our duties, I assure you.”
“Fine,” Thorin responded, “As long as she’s not alone.”
A month ago, a week ago even, this would have been the point where Fíli eagerly took his leave, but today he hesitated, long enough for Thorin to notice.
“What is it?” his uncle questioned.
“Trying to reclaim Moria,” Fíli eventually said, “It is a folly, Uncle.”
“Many said the same about reclaiming Erebor,” Thorin retorted, “And yet here we are.”
“Smaug was a creature of flesh and blood,” Fíli argued, “The Balrog is a demon, one that the White Council has little chance of defeating, for all their power.”
“I know,” Thorin revealed, to Fíli’s amazement, “Which is why I have no intention of insisting that they uphold that particular part of the bargain. There is no great chance that they shall survive the war with Saruman intact, in any case.”
“Then, why…” Fíli trailed off, unsure of whether he actually wanted to hear the answer to the question that he had been about to pose.
Thorin gave him an answer anyway, “I have my reasons for allowing her to return to the Mountain, Fíli. You may rest assured that they are not malicious nor do I have any intentions of seeing harm come to her.”
The reply was not wholly acceptable, but Fíli knew better than to press for any more. Instead, he changed the topic.
“Tauriel-”
“No,” was Thorin’s immediate reply.
“Bella will insist upon seeing her,” Fíli attempted.
“Then your sister can visit the elf in Dale,” Thorin asserted, “But Tauriel shall not be entering this kingdom until Dáin and his men have departed. We’ve spoken about this, Fíli.”
“Kíli is growing impatient,” Fíli cautioned, “He does not see why the one he loves, his intended, must be kept out of Erebor after everything she has done to aid us. She provided the arrow that my brother used to fell Smaug and stood with us even against her own uncle. What will you do when Kee becomes fed up with waiting and elopes with her as he’s threatened to do on several occasions?”
“My grandfather would have banished him for even looking twice at an Elf,” Thorin said baldly.
Fíli was instantly incensed, “Banish my brother and you’ll be needing to find yourself another heir, Your Majesty.”
“Fíli,” Thorin’s tone was much gentler than Fíli had heard from him in a long time, “I am not my grandfather. I’d sooner welcome another dragon into Erebor than willingly lose Kíli, lose either of you. But you both must understand that there are many dwarves currently in Erebor who would react with violence if they were to realize that your brother seriously intends to wed Tauriel. Both of their lives would be at great risk, and I will not abide by that. I bear no ill will toward your brother’s One and, once your mother and enough of our people have settled in the Mountain, I will welcome her with open arms into Erebor.”
A great tension drained from Fíli, “You could have said this months ago.”
“Neither you nor your brother were in the mood to listen then,” Thorin replied wryly.
Fíli had to acknowledge that this was, in fact, true, “You’ll bless their marriage?”
“I’ll marry them myself,” Thorin confirmed.
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Erebor was as majestic as ever and filled Bella with a sense of dread. There had been a time when the Mountain had been a beacon of hope, a symbol of the promises her brothers and Thorin had made her. Now, the sight of it was a painful, agonizing reminder of the King Under the Mountain’s final words to her all those months ago.
“Take her then,” Thorin had roared, clutching the braid he’d cut from her hair, with the mithril and gold bead courting bead still dangling from it’s end, in his large fist, the same that had struck her only minutes before, “And know that no love of mine goes with her! She is henceforth banished from my sight and kingdom!”
The bruise on Bella’s face had healed. The bruise on her heart had not, remaining a constant source of grief.
Bella could not quite quell the quivering of her hands as Gandalf drove the small cart that they had borrowed from Thranduil toward the once secret door into the Mountain. The path had been smoothed out and made accessible by horse and cart which was nice, because Bella wasn’t sure how else she could have gotten the three chests full of money, that Aragorn had insisted she take, up to the door.
They had barely come to a stop before Bella was plucked from her seat and pulled into a tight embrace that engulfed her completely. It took the work of only a moment to comprehend who was holding her and then Bella was hugging Fíli back as tightly as she could, “Fee.”
“Idmi Ramim, Namad,” Fíli whispered against her hair, “Welcome home.”
Kíli claimed her next, spinning her around with a laugh, “Bél!”
Bofur, too, lifted her into the air, although there was no spinning, when he greeted her.
Nori managed to sneak in a quick kiss to her cheek before Bella was enveloped in bone-crunching hugs by Óin and Glóin, in short order.
Dwalin’s greeting was a gentle knock of his forehead against hers, mindful of her softer skull.
“You have been sorely missed, lass,” Balin’s hug was grandfatherly and his voice was full of pride.
Bifur greeted her with a long string of Khuzdûl that, for the most, Bella could not understand, but the sentiment behind the words became quite clear when he held her close.
Bombur carried upon his person the scents of cinnamon, pumpkin, and sweet apples while Ori’s fingers were stained with the hues of many different colored inks, Bella noticed when they each squeezed her tight - telltale signs of what occupied the time of her two most gentle brothers’ days.
Dori took his turn hugging her close and then immediately began fretting over her, “Oh, you look exhausted, and half-starved! What has Tharkûn done to you? We need to get you inside, where it’s warm, so that you can rest and something hot to eat and drink.”
Bella found that she could not answer him right in that moment, because a part of her was still coming to terms with the fact that her brothers had missed her, so Gandalf spoke for her, “She is too thin, isn’t she? Perhaps being in the company of her brothers shall be enough to finally persuade her that she should be consuming more than a single meal each day.”
If Bella had been holding any sort of projectile, she would have sent it hurdling toward the meddlesome Wizard’s head with as much force as she could muster.
Gandalf’s words had an instantaneous effect.
“Yer supposed to have seven!” Óin protested, and then the rest of her brothers, save one, began to chide her as well.
Fíli was the only one who did not immediately scold her and, when Bella glanced over at him, she realized that he was considering her carefully and his eyes were full of understanding, as if he had managed to perceive something that none of the others had.
“Enough,” he spoke with authority, after a long moment of considering Bella’s person, “The sooner we get our sister inside, the sooner she can eat. Remonstrations are of little use right now.”
Gandalf cleared his throat, “This is where I bid you farewell, my dear Bella. Do try not to go running off on any more dangerous quests. At least, not until I get back.”
Bella was still a bit frustrated with him, but she was suddenly struck by the notion that there was every possibility Gandalf might not come back and that was just plain unacceptable, “Gandalf, if you let that stupid, pompous, ridiculous excuse for a Maiar kill you, I will never forgive you.”
Gandalf nodded at her with solemnity, which was belayed by the twinkling of mirth in his eyes, and then he was gone.