Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.

This is for Hobbitlover4eva who has given me ideas to write about that I would have not thought about writing. Thank you darling, for making my imagination fire up!

"There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell."

Thorin watched as Bilbo held back the tears that were glistening in his eyes, trying to be brave and he wished that Bilbo would stop trying to be brave because the small Hobbit was far braver than he thought. He gave Bilbo a smile, despite the pain that seemed to pour from his very bones. With a silent breath he tried to lift his hand to meet Bilbo's own sturdy ones but he couldn't quite make it. In the end he just let his body lie still and hoped that his words have told the Hobbit how much he was sorry for all the pain and anguish that he caused him and that he wished him a long and exciting life. Bilbo opened his mouth as if to say something but the Hobbit simply made a sort of rasping choking sound and then rushed out of the tent with his hand clasped over his mouth. Gandalf came in right after and sat beside the bed. Thorin forced a nod to him and Gandalf smiled down at him.

"A long time you have been on the road old friend," Gandalf said to him kindly, "And now it is time to rest. Your Father and your Fore Fathers all await you in the mighty halls of your Maker. Go to them Thorin Oakenshield. You have earned your place and Mahal awaits his child." Thorin gave Gandalf a last smile and then he closed his eyes.

A man was smiling down at him. Thorin looked up at him and knew his name without having to be told. He knelt and bowed his head. "Mahal," Thorin said.

"Thorin Oakenshield," Mahal said and his voice was like sound of hammers on the forge, clear and deep. The sound of it travelled thought Thorin and he felt his body and soul respond to it. A tremor of happiness and excitement ran thought him and he felt as if he was sixty. He looked back up the man; his Maker. Mahal grinned at him this time and held his hand out.

"Come my child," he said, "There are many who await your arrival in my Halls."

Thorin grinned back to his Maker and took the hand of Mahal. The Valar's skin felt like polished stone, but warm and strong. Thorin could feel the power in the slender fingers but he felt no fear. He looked away from Mahal to see before them a long pathway of precious stones, interwoven with gold.

"The pathway to my Halls," Mahal said to him as they began to walk, "Ahead you can see the towers." Thorin followed the Valar's outstretched hand and indeed he saw tall spires glinting in the distance. He remembered the stories that his father told him about the magnificent Halls of Mahal that they would all be going to at the end of their lifetime to await the renewing of the world. He wondered if they were as wonderful as the pictures his father painted with his words.

"If you want to find out," Mahal said, breaking in in his thoughts, "Why don't you ask him?"

"Ask him?" Thorin asked momentarily confused, then with a gasp of understanding he spun away to see his father coming towards him with his arms open wide and a broad smile on his face. He looked back up at Mahal and the Valar laughed and gestured to his father.

"Go child, go," he said with another laugh that echoed like tinkling crystals in the air, "You have waited long enough have you not?"

"Too long," Thorin said softly as he let go of Mahal's hand, then in a louder voice full of tears, "Too long! Father! Father!" Thorin crashed into the open arms of Thráin. His father's voice filled his ears.

"Thorin, Thorin," his father said over and over. Thorin felt hot tears prickle his eyes and he looked up to see his father's face mirroring his own tearful happiness. He buried his face back into his father's beard and inhaled the long forgotten scent.

"I missed you so much," Thorin said brokenly, "I was so lonely and scared, Father. I was lost. I could not find my way. I missed you so much. I missed you so…." He trailed off unable to continue.

"I know my son," Thráin said stroking his head, "I am sorry that I could not have been there for you, Thorin. I saw and I prayed for help in your time of danger. And Mahal lent you courage and strength to do the great deeds that followed you to your end. A terrible price for peace, you paid. All is well now and your place well earned. So put all sorrow behind you Thorin Bazent. Here the trials of your life are over and you can smile again. Your brother and I have been long waiting for this day." Thorin snapped his head up.

"Brother? Frerin? Where?" Thorin pulled back to look around and saw his brother lounging against a tree. The raven haired dwarf grinned at him.

"Thorin," he nodded to him. Thorin pulled himself slowly out his father's embrace and walked as if in a dream to Frerin. He reached out a hand and touched his brother's cheek.

"Frerin," he said and a tear dropped down his own cheek. Frerin grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Welcome home brother," he said, rocking them both side to side, "Long have I waited to see you with my own two eyes." Thorin broke at those word, his body shaking with joyous sobs as Frerin made soothing noises and rubbed his back.

"I missed you so much," Thorin said into Frerin's shoulder, "When you died in my arms, a part of my soul died with you. I ached day and night from losing you. My Frerin. My Gilral."

"My Bofral," Frerin whispered back to him, then pulled away and reached up and wiped Thorin's tears away with his thumb.

"My heart is overcome," Thorin said softly.

"If you are already overcome," Frerin laughed, "Then what will you do about him?" Thorin turned to see his grandfather standing beside his father.

His jaw dropped and he half ran, half stumbled into the waiting arms of Thrór. "Gamul Khagam," he cried.

"Thorin," Thrór said, hugging him tightly, "My beloved. Long have I waited to see your face once again. Now my joy is full filled."

"As is mine," Thorin said looking up into his grandfather's face, "Save for one thing." Thrór smiled knowingly and gestured with his chin. Thorin froze in the embrace for a terrifying moment and then he forced himself to take a breath and turn.

Kili and Fili were walking up the path way. Kili with his large beaming smile and Fili with his gentle one. Thorin did not wait for them to reach him. He tore away from Thrór and ran to his nephews. They both burst into laughter and began to run toward him.

"Fili, Kili. Fili, Kili." Thorin kept muttering like mantra just in case they happened to disappear before he could reach them. Then they collided and he fell onto the pathway with his arms full of two heavy dwarves. Then he was planting kisses on their heads and holding onto them as tight as he could.

"My Fili. My Kili. My heart and soul," Thorin pulled them to him tighter, "My Fili and my Kili. Great Mahal be praised that I can hold you again and never lose you. Mahal be praised!" Fili and Kili planted kisses on his cheeks and nuzzled into his neck.

"And neither can we lose you, Uncle," Fili said, his own husky voice full of happy tears.

"Never again," Kili agreed and hugged Thorin tighter.

Thorin looked up through tears to see Mahal standing ahead of them on the pathway.

"Indeed never again" their Maker said, "Through heart break, sorrow, great deeds, happiness, friendship and death you all have come. Welcome home and enter into the Halls of Mahal."

Thanks to:

Tolkien: for making the characters.

Peter Jackson: for making them real and lovable.

Hobbitlover4eva: who gave me the idea.

My other readers: thanks for the support!