A/N: So...It may not make too much sense, so I'll give y'all the rundown. I am a fan of magic powers, and a piece of goregous fanart on Pinterest put the idea in my head that Bella had magic powers related to the land. Like making vines come out of the ground and trap people, raising stone to trip people up or act as a shield, making flowers and trees grow, etc. So, I looked to connect this to something in the Tolkien universe, and I found limited info on Sprites, Faes, and the like. So, with a generous dose of creative license, a touch of imagination, and a shipper heart, this came up. It's post-BOTFA, about a week or so after, and everyone lives because I SAID SO, AND THAT'S WHY(!). Okay, hopefully someone other than my sad self understands this, so off you go!
I am almost tempted to let you take it...if only to see Oakenshield suffer.
You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!
The Line of Durin ends here!
Mariabella Baggins awoke with a start, shaking off the dark whispers and cobwebs of slumber. She looked around, confused as to why she was in a forest-like room. This was too green to be Mirkwood, and the Shire had no places like this, so where-
So, one of the Fae rulers survives. I will amend that mistake.
Bella let a hand fly to her forehead. It touched tender skin and a bronze circlet with a green, diamond-shaped gem in the middle. A Fae crown. Oh. Well, then, she thought. That explained the location...and also her rather fanciful-looking dress. It was chartreuse, with vents on the sides, and the underskirt - so light that it almost seemed like it wasn't there - was a clean daisy white. There were also ruby and sapphire colored dots and decorative patterns.
She sat up and looked around. The room seemed built of healthy trees, and the bed she was on was terribly comfortable, so much so she wondered if it were just a dream. She stood, and the sharp pain in her left ankle (what happened? Oh, yes, Azog broke it) assured her she was not.
The floor was wood, and it seemed as if it were one solid piece. There was a window to her left, and she walked over – 'hobbled' would've been a more accurate description – to look out. The forest she saw definitely hadn't been there when they arrived at the Lonely Mountain. Her heart sped up. How long have I been asleep?
Beyond that was Erebor. The hole in the door was still there, albeit disappearing rapidly under the hands of many skilled Dwarven craftsmen. "It can't have been too long, or the door would be repaired," she murmured. "After all, there's no way Thorin would let- Thorin!" That was much louder, and immediately she clapped a hand over her mouth.
There were footsteps coming down the hall, and she first looked for a place to hide. Then she ran – again, 'hobbled' would've been more accurate – to the bed, hoping to pretend she was simply in the middle of a nightmare. She managed to crawl under the covers, but not lay down, before the door opened.
The lady who walked in was glowing. It was a faint, green glow, but still a glow. She was as tall as Bella, possibly a little shorter, but not by much. Her dress was golden yellow and looked light and flowing, and her long hair was a rich brown. Her eyes, also brown, found their way to Bella immediately.
None of this took her attention like the translucent wings with green patterns that glowed more brightly than the girl herself. "My lady?" Is...is she talking to me?
"Me?" Bella asked. She nodded. "I'm hardly a lady, except in the more literal sense. I'm not nobility or royalty. I'm not even from around here."
"You have the crown, and thus, are the queen of Farasail Forest," the girl - who must've been a Fae - answered. Bella's eyes went wide.
"Oh! Well, then..." she said, trailing off. She moved to stand, and once on her feet again (and pointedly ignoring the waves of pain from her ankle), looked at the Fae. "What's your name?"
"Petunia, Miss," she answered.
"Good morning, Petunia. May I ask where I am?" Bella asked, turning around and making the bed. Petunia moved to do it for her, but Bella casually waved her off. "I've managed to make my own bed - and occasionally someone else's - for 41 years, and just because I have a crown now doesn't mean I've lost that skill."
"Alright then," Petunia said with a small smile. "You're in the Deepwood Palace. We took you here to heal from the battle. It was...rather impressive." Bella looked up at her. "Your handle on your abilities. Most can't do what you did so soon."
"Yes, well, I assume most don't try and then almost die because of it," Bella replied with a lighthearted tone. Petunia giggled.
"I suppose so."
"How long have I been asleep?" Bella asked, finishing her task and turning to face Petunia once more.
"Only a week. The healers said you wouldn't wake for about 2," the girl answered. "Anything I can do for you, my Lady?"
"Firstly, 'Miss Baggins' or 'Bella' would be fine. Like I said, I'm hardly royalty. And second, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield; did they all survive?" She was afraid to know the answer to the second one.
"Yes, my- Miss Baggins. The Crown Princes Fili and Kili are still recovering from their injuries, as is another named Bifur. Other than that, they're all perfectly fine," Petunia answered.
"And...Thorin himself? How is he?" Her hands were behind her back now, and her fingers were interlocking and untangling, a sign of her nervousness. Surely he was alright. He'd killed Azog, and Azog was Thorin's most dangerous enemy. Everyone and thing else he could handle. Surely, since his archenemy had been defeated, he would be alright.
But 'alright' wasn't 'alive'. Wasn't even close. She didn't think she saw the dragon-sickness in his eyes when she last looked into them. She didn't hear it in his voice when he spoke. And there were Men and Elves entering and exiting Erebor. If it still had a hold on him, that wouldn't be happening.
Right?
"He cannot get in, Miss Baggins. You're perfectly safe. In fact, he hasn't left the Mountain since the battle, except to try to follow you. We kept him from doing it," she replied. Bella nodded.
He'd tried to follow her (she repeated it mentally a couple times to boost her confidence), and she was certain that if he'd tried to use force against the Sprites and Faes that he wouldn't be 'perfectly fine'. And if he wasn't using force, he wasn't angry, and if he wasn't angry, then he had broken free of the sickness.
Somehow, she knew he was safe. Not injured or insane. Alive and alright.
She said none of this, nor did she speak her intentions about what she would do next. "How severe is the damage to the forest, and how are the other Sprites and Faes?" Bella asked. First others, then herself, and then...
Oh, then...
"We are all alive and in perfect health, including the forest," Petunia dutifully informed. "And your ankle will be healed by this time next week, latest." Oh, not after what I'm about to put it through, she thought to herself. Still, better not to say. "Anything else I can do or get for you, Miss Baggins?"
"No, thank you. That will be all. I should like to do some exploring," she remarked. "Know a good place to start?"
"By the front door, perhaps? It's just down the hall, straight ahead and then to the big right. You can't miss it," Petunia answered. Bella nodded her thanks, and the girl left. Bella waited one, two, three minutes, and then cast one long look out the window toward the Mountain.
She walked out, and immediately searched for her room. She found the door first, and cataloged that for later. A couple of the Sprites – Tavari, if her memory served her right, but it had been a while since she'd done any research into them – guessed what she was looking for and showed her the way to her room.
It was beyond grand. The bed was huge (even for a Man), and lavish. There had to be two sets of sheets, a blanket, and a comforter on it. Huge. And the pillows; what on Middle-earth was she to do with so many pillows? It was a canopy bed, so the curtains were tied back near the head of the bed, and it looked, well...Queen-like.
There was another room - possibly a bathroom - but she didn't go to investigate. She found what she was looking for, and was actually quite surprised to see: a sewing kit. Actually, it was more a whole dresser than a simple kit.
She opened the low dresser drawers, one after the other, and as kindly as she could, rummaged through them looking for strips of cloth. Upon finding them, she proceeded to look for two small, flat pieces of wood. Nothing to be found. "Blast!" she muttered. She closed one of the drawers and slumped to the floor for a moment.
She gave herself a light slap to the side of the face. "Come on, Bella. You've made it through Orc fights and Dragon fire. You won't be defeated by a lack of wooden boards now!" She stood up - an admittedly more painful than she'd have liked feat - and began to look around again. She eventually found a pair of decorative panels on the side of the sewing kit-dresser that were long and thin enough for what she wanted, and pulled them off.
Making sure it was a clean break - no splinters or snapping and such - she put the panels on either side of her ankle (actually, just above her ankle, but it hurt like no tomorrow when she touched them, so it was definitely the right spot) and tied them tight with the cloth. "A fairly decent splint, I daresay."
Then, of course, it needed to be tested. She walked on it, and while it was uncomfortable and she still felt twinges of pain, it was clear it did its job well enough. That was good enough for her, so she opened the door, checked the hallway for anyone else there, and then ran.
No, sprinted.
She bolted for the front door, sliding around corners and ignoring the shouts behind her as she did so. It'd been easy enough to do in the Shire (which seemed so very far away at the moment; not that she currently cared), so why not here?
The dress, as it turned out, was just the right length for dashing through the woods. She saw the trees fly by, felt the fresh grass under her bare feet, smelled the clean forest air. Her ankle hated her at the moment, but she didn't care (at the moment). All that mattered was getting to Erebor as fast as possible.
She wondered if they'd told him anything. Did he know she was alive? On the road to recovery? Perfectly safe, tucked away in the forest room? Or had they refused to speak of their Queen to him? She hoped he knew she was alive.
It didn't matter. He would know soon enough.
As she ran, it was like the forest sprang up around her and helped her. No rocks were in her path, nor branches reaching for her face. She encountered no issues, and the path was clear cut, despite the whole place having grass and leaves and twigs covering the ground.
She broke free of the forest, and just kept running.
It was further to the door than she would've liked, but she was sure she'd be able to make it to the door at least. The calls behind her, those of "Your Highness!" and "Wait!" and "Slow down!", went unheeded. She could think of getting to only one person, and nothing would keep her from getting to him.
Absently, she wondered if his heart was where it had been that last day he properly spoke to her. Her heart sank but a little at the thought, and then lifted at the memory of his call. Desperate, worrying. He wasn't still as cross as he was at the Gate.
Hopefully.
The closer she got, the more attention she got. The ground beneath her feet evened out as she placed her foot down, and then went back to normal as soon as she lifted it. The wind blew in her face, sending her hair flying behind her. It slowed her down a little and boosted her spirits. She hoped that that 'little' wouldn't be enough for the others to catch her.
Calls went up about a small maiden in a strange dress dashing for the gates of Erebor, but she was there before any could keep her out. She ducked beneath a pair of guards that tried to stop her and kept running.
The chorus of Faes and Sprites behind her was now joined by Dwarven shouts. Westron, Faish, and Khuzdul alike were shouted at the sprinting Hobbit, but she left them all behind, dashing for the Throne Room as fast as she could.
Oh, how disappointed she would be if he weren't there.
But he was.
Every door she needed to get through was thrown open as she ran, and the Throne Room doors were no exception. Except the bang these generated seemed so much louder than the others had. It certainly got his attention, though.
Up near the throne stood Dwalin and Thorin. Both were dressed how she remembered, if a bit more sophisticatedly. They both turned to look, and Thorin's eyes went wide. Dwalin's may have been, too, but Bella was focused on Thorin, and Thorin was focused on Bella. The old warrior seemed to understand the gravity of the moment, and took his leave, passing her on his way out.
"Glad to see you, lassie," he said before getting to the door - which was rather choked with Faes, Sprites, and Dwarves - and herded them all away before closing it gently.
Thorin took one step toward her, and she copied the action. She was in something of a daze. Her sole thought had been 'Get to Thorin,' but now that she was there, words and thoughts failed her. She wasn't sure what she was thinking of feeling as they mirrored each other's actions, one step at a time.
It wasn't until they were four or five steps away from each other that she found her voice again. "Thorin." It was all she managed. All she could think and say boiled down to that word. But it held everything she'd been thinking on the run there.
He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no words came. Just one small exhale as he looked her over. Looking for injuries, a message, or weapons, she couldn't say. She did the same, of course, and found nothing but bandages and bruises. When their eyes once again met, her courage returned to her, and she spoke again. "You made it."
But there was something in that expression she didn't know. Something like scared shock, disbelief, and - even more heartbreaking - pain. "They didn't tell you anything, did they?" she asked. He could only shake his head. She pursed her lips for a moment, looking down, before looking back up.
And then the floodgates opened.
"I didn't know what else to do. I thought that if I could just get the Arkenstone out of there, that you might go back to yourself; I had to hope because hope was the only thing I had left. You weren't listening to me, to Balin or Dwalin, to Fili or Kili, to anyone! I-I hid it, and then you didn't change, so I made my decision, which I tried hard to regret later but I didn't because it was the only decent, sensible, sane thing to do that I could think of."
She sped up, raising in pitch and volume as her desperation and nervousness began to climb. "I had to come say it to your face. I knew it would hurt, and that you wouldn't understand, but I just had to. I did-I didn't even know what I was going to say, how I was going to explain myself, but I showed up anyway."
He still didn't move or say a word, so she kept going. "A-and on Ravenhill, I-I wasn't going to just let you all die; I care far too much about you to ever have let that happen, and I didn't think- I couldn't think- I wasn't thinking, and I just took on Azog because he was going to kill you all. And then the crown, a-and the-the hill, and the powers, and I didn't..."
She trailed off with a sigh, trying to gather her words. "I did what I could. I had to help, and that was the one way I could do it and do it well and do it fast, so I did. I don't regret it. Not a single bloody bit, not a single second. I understand if you hate me, if you never want to see me again, or if you'd rather I just go away and not come back before you lose your temper completely and kill me, but I had to come see you because I had to say this and-"
The torrent stopped, and his expression was unchanged. "Oh, please, Thorin, just say something! Scream, shout, anything! Just do something! I need to know where I stand with this. With you! I can't bear not knowing, so just give me something!" She took a breath, and was a little surprised to hear tears in it. Then she felt one run down her cheek.
He took three steps toward her; they were close enough that she could feel his breath ghosting across her cheek, cooling the wet tear track. "You're alive," he whispered. She gasped, and he wrapped his arms around her as she sunk into the embrace. He took in, and then let out, a shaky breath, and she felt his grip tighten a little.
He hadn't known she was alive. She wrapped her arms around him, letting out a rather shaky sigh of her own. They stayed like that for a minute, maybe more. Then he spoke. "They told me nothing of your fate. I thought you as dead as you were in my arms when last I held you." His voice wobbled, almost cracking. She'd never heard him this hurt and vulnerable before. She turned her face inward, burying it in his chest.
"Thorin, I'm so sorry," she said. Then he pulled away to face her, holding her by her arms so she, theoretically, couldn't leave. The grip wasn't tight enough to keep her there if she wanted to escape, though. His eyes locked with hers, demanding and capturing her attention.
"No, I am the one who should be sorry. I betrayed your unfaltering love when I turned my back on you. You did only what you thought would help me, what you believed would break me free of the sickness, and I repaid your loyalty, true loyalty, with cruelty and shunned your faithfulness. You did what only a true friend would do, and I treated you contemptuously," he replied. Bella's heart nearly broke.
"Thorin-" she started.
"No, please. I need to say this. I have spent every night since Ravenhill wondering if you were alive. I had so many things I wanted to say, and I feared I'd never get a chance to say them. Now that I do, I find that I have so little to say that could convince you of my sincerity. So little that really matters enough to mention in the brief time I have to speak."
"This past week, I have thought long and hard about what happened in Lake-Town, and have come to the inescapable conclusion that I do share your feelings." Bella's breath hitched when she thought back to what she'd said during the party. "I didn't have a chance to say that before-"
"It went to hell in a handbasket?' Bella supplied. A small smile crossed his face, accompanied by a chuckle, before it soothed back out to the serious face he was wearing earlier.
"I didn't think I would get a chance to say them. I love, you, Bella. I need you, and I've missed you. I know I haven't shown it well, if at all. I know that my actions when I was under the Dragon-sickness were inexcusable. I would ask you for forgiveness, but as I am unable to forgive myself my words and deeds at the Gate, I do not think it fair for me to beg your forgiveness," he said.
Now her heart was truly breaking. She'd done this. Could she not have stayed awake one second longer to let him know things were alright? Couldn't she have awoken for but a moment and given a command to allow Thorin to see her, or at least know of her being alive?
"This is not your fault," he interrupted her thoughts. He couldn't see her face; had she been speaking? "This is no-one's fault but mine, and it's an unforgivable one at that. I could never earn your forgiveness. Not after what I've done. Still…I want you. I ask you to stay, here in Erebor, at my side. If you refuse, then I will stay silent on this matter for the rest of my days. One word from you would be enough to let me know what you think of me."
She raised one hand to his face, cupping his cheek. He closed his eyes, looking away from her, and yet leaning into it. "Oh, Thorin..." she breathed. "Forgiveness could never be earned. Not by anyone. It doesn't work like that. It's given, and I give mine freely. I forgive you. Of course I forgive you." He looked at her now, hope in his eyes, even as she saw great sadness there. "I forgive you," she repeated.
"How?" he whispered. "After all I did to you, how could you forgive me?"
"Because I love you, you silly, stubborn Dwarf," she answered with a sniffle. "I gave you my heart the moment I heard you sing, and I have no desire to try to take it back. I never could, nor would I try." He placed his hand over hers - oh, how she missed that touch! - and moved it so he could kiss her palm. She chuckled, another tear slipping from her eye. "I would ask only that you let me know if the feelings are reciprocated."
His response was to pick her up and spin her around, laughing joyously. She laughed as well. Like, properly laughed. She couldn't remember when the last time she did that was. It didn't matter now, though, because he was Thorin again and he loved her. She couldn't remember the last time she was that happy, either.
When the spinning finally stopped, he rested her back on the ground gently, and before she had any time or opportunity to explain about the ankle, he kissed her, and oh. Oh.
So this was kissing. She liked it.
One of his hands was around her neck, pulling her in, and the other around her waist, keeping her close. She absentmindedly noticed that both of hers were currently around his back, fingers digging in, and that, in fact, she pretty much wasn't controlling anything she was doing. Not that she needed to; all she cared about was the moment and how perfect it was and how incandescently happy it made her. In that moment, she was his, and he was hers, and that was all she knew or cared about.
When it was over, their foreheads were touching, and she was quite breathless. "Does that answer your question, Mistress Burglar?" Thorin asked, his eyes meeting hers again. Whatever breath she managed to regain in that moment pretty much deserted her.
"Quite satisfactorily, Mr. Oakenshield," she replied breathlessly. She placed one hand on his chest...and hit something small. A pendant. Her locket. "You...you found it?"
"Yes. On Ravenhill. Azog-"
"Tore it from my neck. He tried to grab my collar and got the necklace instead," she supplied. "And you kept it?"
"I had hoped I could use it to bargain for a meeting to return it, and try to apologize there. But the longer it took, with no word on you...I thought they'd been unable to save you. I kept it, wore it...to keep you close to my heart. To remind me of you. To keep myself from ever slipping so far again," he explained. He went to take it off, but she took his hand.
"No, keep it. As my promise to you," she replied. Their eyes met, and for a moment, she thought he was going to lean in for another kiss - which she would've been happy about - but then her ankle (which she was about to quite thoroughly curse for ruining the moment) reminded her of the way she'd gotten there and in spite of what.
She closed her eyes, but held her tongue, letting out only a small hiss. Thorin leaned back, now 3aware he'd missed something in the initial check-over, and realized her ankle wasn't sporting a stylish (not) wrap, but a splint. "What happened?" he asked, concerned.
"Oh, Azog broke it while I was scrambling to get to the circlet, and it's not quite fully healed yet." She inwardly winced at the upcoming reaction. "And I may have sprinted from the forest to here." He looked at her in shock, and she used the momentary distraction to further help her case.
"Well, they - the Faes and Sprites, I mean - seemed to be under the impression that the earlier actions and banishment still stood, so they were trying to protect me from you, and I wasn't about to take two hours to try to explain what happened. I couldn't wait. I had to come see you," she finished. He simply smiled slightly and shook his head, probably just relieved that she was actually alive. And that she didn't hate him. "I do believe your stubbornness is rubbing off on me," she added.
"Can you walk?" he asked.
"Define walk," she countered. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but it wouldn't be comfortable. And no, before you ask, I don't think my ego could suffer being carried like a damsel in distress, which, I may remind you, I am not."
"No, far from it," he replied. "You are a brave warrior, and I am proud to call you my friend." She beamed. "Would your ego suffer you to let me take some of the weight?" She pretended to consider that.
"I think it might," she answered. He held his arm out, and she gladly took it. She nodded at the doors, and they opened. In hindsight, she should've expected the crowd outside. She definitely expected the Company to be there, and wasn't at all surprised to find Nori right up next to the door with his little listening device. "Boys, were you trying to spy on us?" she asked in a slightly stern tone.
The whole Company, along with a few Sprites and a Fae or two, began to stammer out explanations as quickly as they could come up with them. Except Balin and Dwalin, of course, who were totally unrepentant of the group's - or their - actions. The guards managed to scatter quite quickly.
Once all the chatter died down, as they either ran out of excuses and things to say or decided it wasn't working or worth it, Balin spoke. "Welcome home, Bella."
And she truly was.
A/N: Yes, I know splints don't work like that. No, I don't care.