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Bella was quite sure that she had never been happier than she was in that moment. Never in her entire life had she been so content, felt so loved, or loved so much in return. She had a family, a large and wonderful family who adored her for who she was and who wanted nothing from her but for her to care about them too. Twelve dwarven brothers and an elven sister and a Thorin who made her laugh and smile more than she ever had in the Shire.
She was never going to return to the Shire, never going to see its features or people again, and the thought did not break her heart as it should have. No, it filled her with relief. Bella had blossomed into her true self during the course of this mad Quest that they were on and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she could never become the respectable Bella Mira Baggins of Bag End again. It would break her if she ever had to do so. If she returned to the Shire, her relatives and their sense of what was proper and what was not would eventually destroy her. But she didn’t have to ever fear this happening, because she had been gifted a new home.
Seeing Erebor for the first time on the Carrock had been like seeing one of the pictures in the fairy tales her mother had read to her as a fauntling pop off the page. Bella had been perfectly aware that she was looking at a place of legend and even now the sight of the Mountain would still fill her with awe every time she glanced it from one of the windows in the house that the Master had provided. She could scarcely believe that she was going to get to live there. Once the dragon had been booted out anyway.
She did not fear facing the dragon as she probably ought to. Not tonight anyway, not after she had been so lovingly embraced by those she cherished the most as one of their own. As their sister. What was dragon fire compared to that?
Bella would face a hundred dragons gladly for the sake of her brothers and sister. And Thorin, of course.
Thorin. He who’s voice had lured her from Bag End in the first place as he sung that beautiful and haunting melody about his lost homeland. That song had touched her heart in a way that nothing else had for years and years, prompting her to leave everything she knew to help a group of strangers. And away from all that she was familiar with, Bella learned to live.
She learned how to laugh with abandon, had found her voice, had been taught when to fight and when to show mercy, and, most importantly, had learned how to love unconditionally. She loved her brothers and sister and was irrevocably in love with Thorin Oakenshield.
It was so very reckless of her, to fall in love with anyone, let alone the King Under the Mountain, for that is what he would be soon, but Bella had done it. More reckless even than running away from all her duties in the Shire had been, because, as irritated as it had probably made everyone there, she couldn’t be put to death for shirking responsibility. She could be executed for this, though, for her love. But Bella found that she did not much care about how her people would react. What could the Thain do to her, anyway, halfway across the world as she was?
Thorin would never let anything bad happen to her anyway, he had proposed to her, and was going to make her his wife and then his queen. He would always protect and love her. The proof of this was resting on her third finger, a gift given to her only a few hours earlier.
Dwarves did not follow the customs of Men, Elves, and Hobbits when it came to courting and marriage. They did not usually present rings to those they wished to make their intended. But Thorin, wanting to honor her traditions too, had done just that. The ring was an exquisite piece of art that had been given to Thorin’s great-grandmother by his great-grandfather during their own courting. A large, circular bright-red ruby that was surrounded by diamonds and set into a band of rose gold. It was beautiful and Bella felt warm every time she looked at it. She would wear this ring every day for the rest of her life, just as she would proudly braid the wedding beads, which Thorin would craft for her once they had retaken Erebor, into her hair every morning.
The Company had been beyond thrilled at the development and had thrown as grand of a party as one could in Laketown. There had been a lot of ale and several of Bella’s brothers were passed out already from overindulging, the rest seemed to be on their way to the same. Tauriel and Kíli had snuck, although ‘snuck’ was being generous, upstairs some time earlier. Thorin had frowned about this for a bit, until Bella had climbed into his lap and kissed him with everything that she had. He had been in a much better mood after that.
Thorin pressed a kiss to her forehead then, “You are my heart, Ghivashel.”
It was the third time that Thorin had called her this so Bella felt justified in asking, “What does that mean?”
“Treasure of all treasures,” Thorin revealed, “My beloved.”
Bella beamed at him, “I love you too, a ridiculous amount really, my darling.”
Thorin smiled. Bella loved it when he did that. It made him look so much younger and lighter, as if the weight of the world were not resting on his shoulders as it usually did.
The dragon may have been before them, but, in that moment, Bella was certain that the future would be nothing but glittery and golden.