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Chapter Text

Those who lived, and those that did not.

Home seemed almost unobtainable now, the battle was over, had been won, and yet nothing could staunch the sorrow one singular Hobbit felt in its aftermath.

"Bilbo!" Bofur came running up the trail to the Lonely Mountain, right arm securely held in a poorly made sling.

I did not look up to see him.

I couldn't bring myself to tear my eyes away from the bodies in the back of the rickety old pony drawn cart. They were torn from me. Eyes filled with light and laughter were now left glassy and empty. I can still remember, not very long ago.. When Dwalin arrived at my humble little home, barging in and starting the events that would lead up to this very moment. Dwalin now walks beside me. We spoke not a word between us, mearly trudged forward and tried to prepare ourselves for the unspeakably sad days to come.

Bofur reached us at last with crunching footfalls, "Dwalin! Good to see you're in one piece too." Bofur smiled at us. "Now, where are the lads?!" The cart, Dwalin and I stopped on the path. It took only moments for him too see the bodies in the cart, three in total, neatly lined-up, drying blood caking once sturdy dwarvish armour.
His smile fell.

Arriving at the dingy camp set up for the wounded was the worst thing that comes to my memory, bodies of every race, unceremoniously piled up at the camp borders. Screaming, groaning and crying echoing from every tent we passed while Bofur led on, face solemn. How did it come to this? All this grief, all this loss, what could be gained? Nothing. Whatever was to gain was now certainly lost.

The Company were in a tent in the far corner of the camp, Soft chatter breaching the canvas. The cart could not come into the tent, i realized bitterly as i looked upon the faces of those who offered me friendship and love, made me laugh, made me cry, put me through great perils and still made me acomplish things i never thought i could, the ones i had concidered family.

Slowly i stepped away, even slower i locked my eyes on the tent's canvas flaps, Dwalin and Bofur did not move with me, prefering to stay at the cart ,eyes downcast. Stealing myself for a moments breath i pushed aside the tent linings and the chattering fell silent at last.

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The hush was so sudden. The air so dense that it felt as though an enormous thick quilt was smothering the tent and its inhabitants. None had escaped unscathed. From the entrance where i stood, i could see Ori, Bifur and Dori in cots made from worn canvas uncharacteristicly prone bodies wrapped in bandages and smelling strongly of nauseating herbal salves.

The remainder of the company at their bedside, haunted eyes ever watchful, almost afraid that their brothers or companions will be stolen away by Mahal himself. But now, all eyes were on me.
Balin was the first to hesitantly break the heavy silence. "It is good to see you lad" His face was crusted with mud and blood from a still to be treated cut just below his hairline. "Same to you Balin" i croaked hoarsely. "Are all of you well?"

Their faces darkened and Nori turned back to his brothers cot's with a pained grimace. 'Excelent thing to ask Baggins' i scolded myself. Even Balin's expression turned strained at my inquiry. "We could be better, Ori has gotten himself a severe concussion delt by an orcish mace to the back of his helm. And Dori and Bifur are fighting poisoned arrow wounds, the elves make frequent rounds. We can only hope..." he trailed off. 'They will survive' i finished in my mind. What a battle it had been indeed.

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Bofur stood beside me just outside the tent. The silence streached on until at last i could not stand it anymore. Turning to face him, the words died in my mouth. He was leaning over the lip of the cart, face contorted in pain. Very rarely did i see any hint of sadness in his features, this was terrifyingly new. "They were oh so young," he breathed. "They held such promise," followed weakly. He looked at the largest form in the cart for a moment before ripping his gaze away to the mountain. "He was the only one i considered
a worthy king..."

'Aye, that he was' i thought bitterly. There was a time when we played, trained, worked and fought together. But that time has now passed. Here was my friend. I could feel my skin crawl at the thought of it. 'My friend' i thought faintly 'was...' I turned to look at him now, chalky skin and dead eyes staring up into the overcast heavens unseeing. Unmoving. Nothing like the night at our burglar's home. His eyes were filled with passion and belief, belief that we could retake the mountain. I looked at the three of them, all uniform, bloodied and gone. 'Aye Thorin, we retook the mountain, tis' a shame you can't be here to see it.'

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The silence reigned again. The company turned their eyes back to their respective injured and bilbo had to swallow thickly to keep himself in one piece. Balin was the only one facing him. "My brother?.." he asked quietly, looking at the far tent wall. 'Does he... Does he think Dwalin didn't make it?'

"He's waiting outside. With Bofur" i whispered lowly, but he heard and sprang towards the tent entrance in a heartbeat, i stopped him quickly and stood infront of him and held the tent flaps closed behind my back. My face pulling in grief and slight panic. "Lad?.."

"Balin, there's.. what i mean to say is!" I was struggling to form a single sentence in my panic. I sighed raggedly in the end and dropped my gaze to my feet, my once clean and neat curls were spotted with mud around my toes. "Thorin... and the boys..." i can't say it, not yet. I swallowed hard and lifted my gaze to Balin.

He looked... solemn. As though what had happened had crossed his mind before. He gently pulled me along outside where Dwalin still stood looking at the mountain, deep in thought. "Brother!" Dwalin's head snapped over to us and immeadiately and as soon as he reached us, he pulled Balin into an embrace and began to cry.

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Never. Never did I think that I would witness the day that Dwalin would break apart at the sight of his brother. Was it relief? Or something more? I would never know. Balin a whole head shorter (not wider) mearly smoothed his palms over Dwalin's shaking shoulders. I could not see his face, But i could see Bofur look at Balin, nod minutely to the cart. Balin went rigid for a second, then dropped his head to his brother's chest.

I had fallen apart the very same way, not long ago. However, their pain will fade to a dull ache with time, mine will not. After all the perils we had faced together, it seemed cruel that some would not see Erebor come back from its desolation. Not even the one who loved Erebor the most...

I stood straighter and sniffed, my mind drifting for moments before being startled by a hand clapping onto my shoulder. Whirling around, it was no one other than Oin, surrounded by the concious company . He looked into my face for a brief moment, winced, and made his way to the cart haltingly, where the rest of the company was already standing.

Could he see what was inside? Am i really so damaged? Only time will tell. I have mourned now as I always will. But the time that sorrow will consume me is yet to come. I know this. The dull ache grows in intensity every passing moment.

Why did you have to leave me here alone Thorin?

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The cart was unloaded when the company could summon the strenght to carry the bodies into the tent, so silent. It is not like them at all, loud, boisterous and crass that is what they where. Not what they are now.

I left the tent and stood looking out on the desolation. The perfect time to have a puff of tobacco (even if it is the bitter, cloying dwarvish variety). The sun was well beyond the horison now, painting the heavens a dark blue. Dark blue.

'"Master Baggins! Move your pony faster. We are losing daylight." Thorin called over his shoulder as we made it past the borders of the Shire and over the Brandywine.'

How terrified I had been when we crossed the Brandywine Bridge, nearly sent poor Myrtle right into a tree. I chortled to myself and sighed. How different it would have been if you all where here. There would be a feast, I'd think. Fíli would try to play his fiddle and keep Kíli from his sixth tankard of ale all at the same time.

And Thorin, you would have loved it just to be here.You'd laugh thunderously at your nephews like I've seen you do in your unguarded moments. You'd look around the vast dining hall and the polished stone walls glowing in lantern light with pride in your eyes and your hand in mine. We'd be together.

I felt my throat close and a sob forming deep down. We'd be together Thorin.

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Done with my pipe, i turned to the tent and started. The ravens that perched not far away, suddenly took to the sky with a flurry of feathers and a series of caws. Up the rised and off they went. I frowned. They were following the sun. Into the West...

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"Herrglod! Please go fetch me the guild-master of the house of Tir! We have a lord that would like to sample his works!" Really now, do I have to do everything in this god forsaken mountain? It certainly did not help that Herrglod was partially deaf, much like his second cousin.

"My Lady Dís! I heard you the first time!" The old adviser came waddling into the councel-room. "I'd hope so Herrglod, today is the guild festival and i will have not a thing out of place." With that I left the councel-room and took the hallways that lead to the royal balcony overlooking the market.

It was abuzz with activity, not surprising though, dwarrows are rarely lazy and festivals welcomed with open arms. How long had it been now? Certainly no less than 16 cycles of the moon, surely. For years we would frequent this festival together my sons. From the time you were only learning your craft at the age of 20 we would be here together.

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"The day was a enormous success Herrglod!" I was practically waltzing down to my chambers in glee. There was not one brawl at the festivities. Not one! Even the testy guild masters were civil to each other.

I arrived at my chamber door, pushed through the door with a sigh. My chamber fire was lit and my tomes still neatly stacked on my desk. No work now. I'm exhausted. Quickly redressing into nightware and unraveling my braids in front of the fire. All but one.

Vili's braid. Unchanged for almost sixty five years. I ran my hand gently down its ridges and thought back to that day. Fili was only twenty seven years old when it happened.

I said my farewell to my brothers, my husband and my grandfather. It was that morning that Vili did my braid for what was to be the last time.
I did not know that only one of my family sent off would return. We all waited as the convoys of our people returned.

Many had been lost and I remember the cold dread that filled me when I caught sight of Thorin. Only Thorin. On a cart, face downcast and hands flaking with dried blood. The cart was laden with the dead. I knew then.

I had not changed the braid, I doubt I ever could again. I stepped into the crisp night air on the balcony overlooking the mountain valley. My sons are there somewhere. Beyond all the vast miles that keep us apart.

"My Lady, it is late. Would you like for me to heat your sheets before bed?" Ah yes, tomorrow is yet another grueling day. "No. Thank you, I will be retiring emmeadiatly, you may go." The servant scurried out of my chamber as i turned down the sheets and settled into the downy elk furs.

My boys.

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*tack*... *tack* *tack* *caw*

It's too late for this.

*tack* *caw* *caw*

If Mahal wishes. I regretfully pulled myself from the furs warm embrace and moved to open the balcony door. In swooped the great raven, a very familliar raven. "Roäc?"

"The very same, Lady Dís. I bring a message from the now reclaimed kingdom of Erebor-"

"Thorin succeeded?" I asked breathlessly. Roäc did not reply. "I have message here, My Lady." He held out his claw and sure enough, a slightly tattered message was bound there. I undid the leather bindings and made to read it. Roäc ruffled his feathers and made to leave again.

"Will you not stay Roäc? You have come a long way, i could gather some provisions for you." Roäc could not face me. "I think it best to leave My Lady. Farewell" He was off. How strange. The bindings undone I unrolled the small scroll.

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"Lady Dís! The councel is to start at dawn!" Honestly these halls are getting longer every day, my old bones creak and my age is showing more and more every day, I'd bet my beard that my cousin Oin would agree. I gently pushed through the chamber door. I was not prepared for what awaited me. The balcony door was wide open, chilling wind roaring into the chamber. The fire was out and my Lady was face down in the sheets. Her hand crushing a small scroll. "Lady Dís..." I hesitantly approached. "Herrglod." She rose. Never had i seem her in such a state. Pale, sweating and sobbing heavily. "Herrglod. They're gone..." her cries rose in volume until she was screaming her grief for the mountain to hear. "What do you mean my Lady?" Her face went rigid and froze in a stern mask, still streaming with tears. "I am the last Durin."

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Chapter Text

The mountain is a flurry of activity, one that Bilbo finds partly dizzying and same parts nauseating, The rush to get mountain kingdom back to its former glory could be seen in the fast amounts of dwarfs hard at work, from stone-maisons in seats held aloft by sturdy rope, reshaping the vast malachite halls with echoing thwacks of chizzles against stone.

Smaug's damage was all but gone in some area's and Dain had been co-ordinating funds for repairs and the likes with a precision that surprised Bilbo to no end.

But of course there was one more thing to co-ordinate, the funeral.

The company had been moved along with Bilbo to some quarters in the mountain that was not too badly damaged by Smaug throughout his years of occupying the mountain. The furniture had been removed for they had already rotted beyond repair, and the dust cleared, leaving the rooms dark, bare, windowless (as expected, being in a mountain) and chilly in a way that made Bilbo's bed-roll on the floor seem more uncomfortable than sleeping on the side of a road as they had on their journey.

Healing was still taking place within the Company, physically and emotionally. Many a time there would be solemn silences, but slowly those became less frequent and the merry spirit of dwarves manifested in its stead. Injuries healed up and the Company began participating in the repairs.

"Master Baggins! Lad, why are you up here at such an hour?" Dain inquired loudly as he made his way up the newly restored stairs of the rampart overlooking the budding town of Dale. His voice echoing in the early dawn air. Dain at first found Bilbo's presence in the Company amusing, taking into account his short stature in relation to dwarfs and hobbit-y mannerisms, but an understanding was formed after Bilbo's sharp tongue lashed out at him in such precise ways that left him speechless at the fierceness such a tiny being possessed.

"I could not find rest I fear." Bilbo replied with a waifish smile without facing Dain as he made his slowly to stand at Bilbo's side and regard the city of Dale with his elbows on the rampart's stone rail. Dain regarded Bilbo out of the corner of his eye when Bilbo seemed to be deep in thought. Taking note of his tousled curls, thinning physique and sorrowful eyes ringed with dark bruises from little sleep.

"Does this condition have anything in relation to my cousin, I wonder?" Dain tries carefully, studying Bilbo's reaction without catching his notice. Bilbo stiffens and his gaze drops from the sight of Dale to the rampart railing. 'So it does' Dain thinks turning his eyes back to Dale as a heavy silence consumes them in the frosty air. "I want to leave-" this softly spoken phrase coaxes Dain to face Bilbo fully with a questioning look, just before Bilbo musters the strength to continue. "Before he- they are, are-" Bilbo is stopped by Dain's hand on his shoulder and he finally looks at Dain for the first time. "Aye, lad, I know."

There is a understanding in Dain's eyes that makes Bilbo's thoughts stutter to a halt. But Dain continue's before Bilbo can inquire. "The funeral will take place in two days time, I will have provisions ready for you before then for your journey." Bilbo's eyes widen marginally just before he catches himself and gazes to the horizon. "I can't imagine the rest of the company would be pleased with my sudden departure." Bilbo muses without any real humour as his lips curl slightly.

Dain sighs, removes his hand suddenly and turns to make his leave. "I think they'd understand, Master Baggins." He said as he decended back into the mountain. Questionly Bilbo's eyes followed him till he was gone from sight and only later did Bilbo ponder Dain's own restlessness.

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The company, as per Dain's prediction were bafflingly ( to Bilbo) accepting of Bilbo's decision to leave early. Of course the was the slight protest from Bofur and Bombur and a fuss or two from Dori and Oin but none had made a move to stop him.

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And so a day before the funeral, Bilbo had found himself at the entrance of the mountain with a pony and provisions for his journey. Bofur at his side was giving Bilbo advice for safe travel and Dori was fussing over his clothing, patting off mountain dust here and there while the rest of the company waited alongside the hobbit for Gandalf to come escorts Bilbo on his journey back to the Shire. He regarded them with affection even though there felt there were holes in the tapestry that made up the company Bilbo now regarded as family.

Just when Gandalf could be seen approaching by horse in the distance did Dain make an appearance sporting his full regalia even though he was slightly ruddy in the face and panting lightly. 'So he came from a council meeting then' Bilbo thought as Dain reached his side. "Are your provisions adequate for the journey, Master Baggins? I put some of my dwarfs to the task of gathering everything you may need." He huffed and straightened his overcoat. "More than adequate, thank you." 'Why does he try so hard?' Bilbo thought puzzled by his appearance at his departure.

The clop of hooves made themselves aware of the fact that Gandalf was nearing and they turned just in time for Gandalf to call to them, "Hail, Dain, King Under The Mountain."