A/N Guys I am floored! Really! Thank you so much for your review, follows and favourites. I never expected this little experiment to gain so much attention! I have a somewhat vague idea where I'm going with this and I think there aren't going to be many chapters – mostly 10 – and you'll probably hate me by the end because it's going to be bitter, but the title is "The Prices we pay" so there was no way this was going to be happy.

Disclaimer: Not mine, of course XD

Chapter II: A price to pay

In years to come the dwarves of Erebor would always remember the bright light that sprang from the healing tent of the King and reached the skies. They would remember how a feeling of lightness passed over them and how in that moment they felt like everything would be all right. Dain Ironfoot, son of Nain, cousin to Thorin Oakenshield would say that for the first time that day he felt hope rekindle in his heart and knew that somehow his kin would survive.

Gandalf Greyhem, however, would pause in shock and feel dread seep into his soul. Out of all those present at the Battle of Five Armies only he knew what that light meant and seeing it burst into the sky, he understood that a great price had been paid, not once, but thrice. He rushed into the tent and saw the hobbit lying limp on the ground; he did not even have to glance in the direction of Durin's heirs to know what had been done. All he could do was ask himself what had been lost.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf sighed wearily.

Picking Bilbo up with ease, Gandalf left the tent sparing one last glance at Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain and whispered sadly:

"You do not deserve the gift that has been granted to you,"

Mounting his steed with all haste and placing Bilbo in front of him in the saddle, Gandalf rushed to the Shire. He remembered very well what he had learned from the Thain of the Shire during the Long Winter and knew that Bilbo had to return home as soon as possible. His memories took him to a time almost two centuries before when he had first met hobbits.

It was the first time Gandalf had met these particular children of Eru and it was in the hour of their direst need. He had heard of Halflings before, a curious race that was soft and nimble, who hid from the Tall Folk and was almost as adept at moving undetected as the elves, but had never had the time to know them.

During the Long Winter they had been pressed hard because of famine and the orcs coming down from the Mountain and it was only with aid that their race survived. But they had strength in them that shone in face of adversity and their kind nature helped them live to see another day. They also had secrets, old secrets passed in the family...

It was only gratefulness and the relief of being alive that had the Thain of the Shire share some of his secrets with Gandalf. In the healing rooms deep inside Tuckborough, Gandalf was able to see the most peculiar type of healing.

"Hobbits are the children of this land, Master Gandalf," the Thain said, while drawing symbols on the ground with black dust. "The land loves us and takes care of us and we take care of it in return. It thought us its secrets."

As the symbols beneath his hands started glowing red and the tween on the bed stopped grimacing in pain, the Thain continued.

"The arts of healing were given to the Took family in order to aid the land and its children, but we always pay the price. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is the Law given to us and we always abide it, never try to sidetrack it."

As he listened on, Gandalf learned that the land and the Powers that Be enact the price. For minor wounds the price is usually energy taken from the healer. The greater the need, the greater the price... even life could be taken as a toll.

"We sign in earth, water, air, fire and blood, depending on the strength of our pledge. The pledge of blood is the strongest possible. One can also offer his entire being in order to make the pledge stronger... this usually happens when an elder offers himself to save a child. We need the land to guide us in order to fulfil our oath, no matter what price is claimed. Without the land we are lost..."

"You silly, silly, boy," Gandalf muttered softly; on the saddle Bilbo was still unconscious and the wizard had no idea what price may had been enacted for healing three people that were almost at the gates of Mandos' Halls. He merely knew that he had to bring Bilbo back to the Shire with all haste...

Behind them, back in Erebor, blue eyes opened in the healing tents. Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, woke from a death-like sleep and mirroring the words uttered after another battle asked:

"The Halfling! Where is he?"

Balin's grave countenance and unuttered words made his souls sink...