(A/N) Wow, sorry it's been so long since my last update. The plot bunnies have been nibbling at my brain. Heh, plot bunnies? No. Try plot wargs. Although, I must say, all the love this lil baby's been getting recently does make me quite cheerful. I love all you readers so much right now. Hopefully, there's still at least one or two people reading this story.

Shield and Sword

Chapter 9: The Sword

"Thorin?" Bilbo called the moment he snapped awake. Even though he found the room empty, he felt almost certain his husband had been there.

It didn't take the hobbit long to feel that something was wrong, though, and that feeling was solidified in his gut when he saw the letter and the thick braid on Thorin's desk. Feeling fear grip his heart, Bilbo struggled to climb out of bed and get to the desk, even though each move hurt his still healing body. He collapsed against the desk upon reaching it, tearing at the letter with shaking fingers. As he'd feared, it was from Thorin…addressed to his dear little thief.

Dearest Bilbo,

There are no words in any tongue that can express the grief and guilt I feel over what I have done to you. I can say only that I am sorry. I would beg for death at your hands, but death would be too easy…too merciful. Then I would not have to live with the torment of the crime I have committed against you. You…Bilbo…my love…you who are more precious than gold…dearer than breath. There can be no mercy for what I've done.

It isn't just you I've hurt, either. My crimes are too numerous to count, and I can no longer pretend to live in the light. Thus I send myself into exile and pass my throne into Kili's keeping. I pray you will remain in the home I so loved and live out your days in peace. Know that even though I will always think of you as my husband and will remain faithful to you unto my dying breath, I hereby release you from our vow, to find love as you choose. Find someone who is worthy of you…someone who will love and care for you…protect you as I could not. At the last, I only want you to know that what I have done, I have done to protect you. I have only ever thought of you, despite how it may seem. Even if I have broken your heart, know that you will always have mine, Bilbo Baggins. I love you.

For all our life…and until death…together shall we be.

Forever yours,

Thorin

Bilbo wasn't even aware he was crying until a strangled sob escaped his throat. Hot tears spilled down his face as he clutched the letter and the braid in white fists.

"You fool," he choked out, the words echoing vaguely in the empty room. "You utter fool!"

The hobbit wasn't certain how long it took him to master his tears, but in that time, the grief, hurt, and despair morphed into anger. How could Thorin just leave him like this?! Even though he could barely walk, he started to head out of their chamber, meaning to track down someone who could give him answers.

Luckily, he met up with Bofur not too far from his quarters, who'd clearly been on his way to check on him. Bofur's face went white when he saw him.

"Bilbo! What are you doing out of bed? You should be resting!" he insisted as he came to support him.

"Don't you dare take me back to bed!" Bilbo snarled. "Take me to Balin. He'll be able to explain this."

Rather than argue with the incensed hobbit, Bofur just nodded, helping him to the chamber where Kili was being prepared for his coronation. All were shocked to see him on his feet, but before anyone could speak, Bilbo turned his fury on Balin.

"What is this madness?!" he demanded.

Balin sighed. "I believe Thorin left you a letter, lad."

"No. This. Right here!" Bilbo pressed, seizing the old dwarf's hand and wrapping it around the braid. "What does this mean?!"

Balin's sightless eyes went wide when he realized what he was holding. All the other dwarves seemed shocked at the sight of it.

"Is this…the act of shearing?" Balin asked, pain in his voice.

"It is," Dis explained calmly. "Thorin left these halls with but one braid."

"What does that mean?" Bilbo continued to press, tearing the braid away from Balin and turning to Dis, who remained calm in the face of his anger.

"This is what a dwarf does when he loves…but cannot be with his love. The single braid is the torch he carries for the one he cannot be with…a sign to all of his undying love. Thorin left this braid with you, Bilbo Baggins, as a sign that you hold everything he is," Dis explained.

"But why?!" Bilbo shouted. "Why would he do this? Why didn't you stop him?!"

"There was nothing we could say to dissuade him. The decision was his," Balin said.

"So…what? Does he expect me to just sit home like a good little hobbit? Pretend none of this ever happened?"

"I imagine he hoped for that…but I don't think anyone actually believes it will happen," Dis said, offering her in-law a sad smile.

"Well, this…this is just ridiculous!" Bilbo spluttered. "I…I'll go find him. I'll drag him back myself if I have to."

"Find him where?" Bofur suddenly broke in, a look of uncharacteristic anger on his face. "You don't know where he's gone to; no one does, and do I need to remind you you can hardly walk? How far do you expect to get, Bilbo Baggins?"

Bilbo was ready to have it out with his friend…but then he saw the worry that Bofur's anger was trying to hide. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"Bofur…I understand you're concerned, but…I can't just turn my back on him. I can't let it end like this. He claims he did what he did to protect me…well…somebody's got to protect Thorin Oakenshield from himself. If this is anything to do with me, I should have some say in it. He's been alone for so long. I can't let him fight alone anymore."

"But where will you go?" Bofur repeated. "He didn't tell us where he was going for a reason."

"Anywhere. Everywhere. I'll search until I find him," Bilbo said, his face set with determination, even though they were all fairly certain he was about to collapse.

"You are a good hobbit, Master Baggins. I don't know that you will ever cease to amaze us," Dis said, smiling wearily at him. "My brother chose well. I believe you will lead him out of the darkness."

"I take it you'll be waiting until you're properly healed before setting off?" Risling put in. Bilbo shook his head, sighing.

"Unfortunately, yes. I won't be much good to anyone if I can't walk. I'd also like to see you and Kili become king and queen."

"Well, that could probably be arranged within the hour or so," Kili said, smiling, even though he still looked nervous.

XxX

The sun had barely risen over the Lonely Mountain, so the throne room was lit with torches, rather than with natural, mirror-reflected light. Kili found that the deep shadows of the chamber only served to make him that much more nervous as he walked down the causeway with Risling at his side. He had walked this same path many times in the last thirteen years, but it had never seemed so long before. Part of him wanted to reach out and take Risling's hand, but he knew he couldn't do that until the time was right. He needed to stand on his own for this.

Dis and Balin were standing on the dais at the end of the causeway. As the current eldest of the house of Durin, Balin would have been the one to perform the crowning ceremony, as he'd done for Thorin, but certain tasks would prove difficult because of his blindness, so Dis was stepping in to help.

The soon-to-be-king was comforted by the sight of his mother at the end of the long walk, but there was only so much comfort to be had in a moment like this. Kili could feel the thrum of chanting at the very core of his being. The assembled dwarves of Erebor were all chanting wordlessly…a younger song, as far as the dwarven race went, their melody in exile and torment…and the hum of it took Kili back to a night long ago in a cozy hobbit hole…back when he'd been little more than a child and his brother had still been at his side.

Fili…it should be you…not me. I don't know if I can do this.

When he and Risling reached the end of the causeway, they both knelt before the throne, joining hands and lowering their heads before the seat of power.

Dis carried a ceremonial axe and when she raised it above her head, the hall immediately fell silent.

"Who is it that would be the king of Durin's Folk?" Balin asked, his voice carrying to all corners of the hall.

"It is I," Kili answered, his voice much stronger and louder than he actually felt.

"And who is it that bears the blood of Durin in his veins, untainted?"

"It is I," Kili continued, trying to recall how Thorin had done this thirteen years ago. Had Thorin ever known fear?

"And who is it that would be this dwarf's consort?"

"It is I," Risling answered.

At this, Dis approached her son, lowering the axe and laying the blade against his throat. Kili felt the sharp edge against his defenseless neck and knew just how easily it could cut his throat. He held completely still.

"Kili, son of Vili son of Valin, it is a grave responsibility you take upon your young shoulders today. To be the king of Durin's Folk will be to have the axe constantly at your neck…to walk the line between sanity and madness. It is power…but if you do not hold respect for that power and the people that power protects, you will be consumed…as many before you have been. Therefore…if you cannot uphold the name of Durin…if you cannot bind yourself to this throne and put your people before yourself…you would do best to cut your throat now."

For the fleetest of moments…Kili considered it. It would be so easy…to lay his neck down on the sharp blade and let it pierce through skin and muscle…to suffer only briefly as his hot life blood flowed onto the steps…then…maybe…to know peace. Maybe this fear and uncertainty would end…maybe the grief that was even now with him would stop…and maybe…maybe he could be with Fili again. It was all his for the taking…except…

…except what would become of his own dear little Fili? What of Risling and Zel? What would their lives be if he were to just let go? If he were to just leave them to their fate, he would never be able to face his brother. He would never be able to face himself. His family still needed him. Risling had eased his pain greatly, but in this moment, he was forced to acknowledge that this soul deep ache would always be with him. It would never truly go away…and he would have to bear it for the sake of the people he still loved…and who loved him. So, for their sake…for Fili's bright smile, Risling's strong heart, and Zel's joyful laughter…Kili finally looked to his mother.

"I will not falter. I will not fail. I will be strong as the stone from which we were first crafted. Take from me this coward's way out."

Kili could see the relief in his mother's eyes as she lifted the axe away. He knew that she had seen he'd considered it. They would never speak of it, but it was enough to know that he had not made that choice. As Balin continued speaking, Dis set aside the axe and went to retrieve the old stone crown from where it rested on the throne, bringing it to Kili and resting its cold weight on his brow.

"Long ago, when the world was young, Durin beheld a vision of a crown of stars atop his head, reflected in the waters of Kheled-zaram, even in the light of day. The weight of that vision has been borne by every one of his sons since and will continue to be borne until the world is broken. With the weight of us all, of all who have gone before and all who will come after…rise, young king and join your forebears."

At this, Dis stepped aside, allowing Kili and Risling to move to their places on the dais. Dis then moved to Balin's side and rested a hand on his shoulder. With this signal, the old dwarf announced, "Dwarves of Erebor, I present to you Kili, son of Vili son of Valin, King Under the Mountain."

Cheers erupted throughout the hall at this…and Kili looked out on the sight, still not quite believing it. Even when he had officially been named Thorin's heir, he had not truly believed he would ever stand here…in this place that was meant for his brother. He would have to do his best in Fili's place.

Dear brother…I still don't believe I can do this. I will need you to guide me. I still need you…to help me be strong and to do the right thing. Be with me now, Fili.

Then, almost as if his brother had heard him, Kili felt certainty ignite in his heart. He knew what he needed to do today in order to begin this the right way.

"Trying times lie ahead for our people," he proclaimed to the citizens. "Darkness has come out of the East and my uncle, the former king, has succumbed to the madness which consumed several of our forebears. But we will not give into this darkness. The Dwarves of Durin's Folk are strong and we will never surrender to this shadow. So long as there are enemies at our gates, we will fight them! We will not allow these black soldiers of Mordor to roam across these lands unchallenged. For our allies…for everyone these foul creatures have murdered…we will destroy them!" he roared to the sounds of thunderous cheering.

As Kili took it all in, he felt a kind of determination he'd never felt before…a courage born of loss and anger. He remembered the faces of his friends…those few who had survived the slaughter of Mirkwood…their hurt and betrayal. He remembered the sight of his uncle breaking…and Bilbo's broken body lying on a pile of cold, unfeeling metal. And he remembered the pale orc who had slaughtered his brother. Too long he had been powerless to save what he loved. No more! He would not lose even one more person he cared for to this darkness…and with this vow, he could almost swear he felt Fili standing at his side once more. Smiling faintly, he turned to look at Risling.

"They are with us," he said softly and she somehow heard through the roar of the crowd.

"They are. I know he's proud of you. I'm proud of you," she said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his forehead. Then, amidst the cheers of their people, the new king and queen moved steadily back down the causeway. Fili and Zel were waiting for them.

XxX

Thorin and Gandalf traveled with Legolas, Estel, and the other surviving elves of Mirkwood, as they were all heading in about the same direction. Although, they would all have to admit it was the strangest journey any of them had ever partaken in. Thorin and the elves ignored each other, not out of any sense of anger or hatred, but more because they no longer knew how to deal with each other. Meanwhile, Gandalf and Estel were in the middle of things, also uncertain how to handle the situation.

The group journeyed around the southern border of Mirkwood, rather than risk journeying through it. By the time they reached the western border, Gandalf was well looking forward to the group finally splitting up.

After all the trouble taken to avoid entering Mirkwood, Thorin was somewhat surprised when Gandalf dismounted his horse and beckoned him to follow him into the wood.

"Do you mean to punish me after all? Give me over to the foul creatures of this hideous forest?" he asked as he climbed down from his pony. He did not cherish the memory of his first journey into Mirkwood.

"Have care how you speak of my home, dwarf," Legolas warned, glaring at the former king.

"You ought not think of this place as your home, Legolas," Gandalf said, his eyes casting about for any signs of danger. "The Greenwood that was is fading."

"So what exactly do you expect to find here, then?" Thorin pressed.

"You remember my brother wizard, Radagast? I'm taking you to him."

"Ah," Thorin started, vaguely recalling the brown wizard.

"Thorin," Estel called to him, climbing down from his own mount. "I do not know when we will meet again, so…I just wanted to thank you."

Thorin laughed bitterly at this. "For what? The blade I nearly put through your heart?"

"No. For your friendship. You accepted me into your home, even though you had no reason to. You are truly noble and it has been my honor to be your friend. What you have done…well…you did it out of love. I will never blame you for it and I will always be the first to your defense. I only hope that when next we meet, you will have been eased of some of your burden," he said, moving forward to embrace the former king.

Thorin accepted his embrace, feeling his breath hitch faintly in his throat. Estel was young…like Kili…but he was brave, true, and good…and he would have killed him. He had not earned this forgiveness, not in his own eyes, at least, but he accepted it nonetheless.

"Thank you, Aragorn. You are truly a son of kings and the world would have been a great deal less bright had I succeeded in my intentions. It is my hope for you that you will come into your true name in time. Farewell, prince of the North," he said, moving off to join Gandalf.

"Farewell…King Under the Mountain."

Thorin flinched at the words, but he didn't look back as he followed Gandalf into the forest. He knew they were meant with nothing but respect.

"What exactly do you hope to gain from this?" Thorin asked as they moved through the shadowed eves of the wood.

"You may not have noticed this, but I've been shielding your mind as we've been traveling. Surely you've wondered why you haven't heard the whispers at your back. Sauron cannot connect to you directly unless you wear the ring of power. I take it he has ways of…coercing you to put it on."

"That is so," Thorin said quietly, shuddering at the memory of old pain. It was the reason why he'd kept the ring with him; for if it left his possession, it would surely fall back into his master's hands…and if that happened the Dark One would almost certainly use it to bind Kili to him…to possess the new king under the mountain and seduce his still-grieving heart with promises of the one he loved the most returning from death. He would not let this monster touch Kili.

"It is that which I have shielded you from, but I have neither the time nor the energy to shield you constantly, especially with the enemy's power growing. I am leaving you with Radagast in the hope he might be able to teach you how to shield yourself."

"What? Do you mean with…magic?" Thorin asked, somewhat confounded. So far as he knew, the line of Durin had not a drop of magic blood, so he couldn't guess how that was going to work.

"Not so much, no. It isn't a matter of magic; it's a matter of mental strength. You must build your mind up so that he cannot use the connection between you. If you can manage this, he will lose interest with time."

"And the old wizard…can teach me?"

"Better than the rest of us, I'd wager. Radagast prefers not to use his power. His strength comes from his own body…and from the earth he so loves. Perhaps, Thorin Oakenshield, if you can master this technique, you will be able to see your husband again."

Thorin said nothing to this. The thought stung his fragile heart and the hope was just too frail for him to allow himself to grasp it.

"So long as I am not hurting people anymore, I will be content."

"Well, he can certainly help you with that. Ah, here we are," Gandalf said as they entered a clearing. At first, Thorin thought he was looking at a tree, but as he looked it over, he began to see the dwelling emerge from it. The tree had essentially taken over what used to be a cottage. The brown wizard came puttering out what looked to be the front door mere moments after they'd entered his clearing.

"Ah, Gandalf, I thought you'd be a little longer. Good to see you again."

"Radagast," Gandalf called to him, fondly resting a hand on his shoulder. "I have brought you a pupil, old friend."

"Mm, yes…the dwarf with no hair," Radagast said, looking the former king over several times without saying anything. Just when Thorin felt he might have to explode with the utter silence that filled the clearing, Radagast spoke up again. "Well, this will certainly be quite the nut to crack, if I do say so myself…and I do," he said, scratching his head and nearly upsetting his hat. "Tell me, Thorin Oakenshield…have you ever attended a hedgehog festival?"

For a moment, Thorin was so surprised, all he could do was stare at the wizard with his mouth slightly agape. "Ah…no. I cannot…say as I have."

Radagast clapped his hands together gleefully. "Dear me, this will be quite educational for you."

"Are you sure about this?" Thorin asked quietly, glancing at Gandalf out of the corner of his eye as Radagast moved off toward another part of the clearing.

"Absolutely. Radagast is a better wizard than most give him credit for. I hope you remember this day, Thorin…for there will come a day when you truly see him and you will regret ever having doubted."

"Well…far be it from me to doubt you…to doubt anyone, really," Thorin said, his gaze following the brown wizard as he twittered about the clearing.

"Farewell, Thorin Oakenshield. Learn well. I imagine the world will be much changed when next we meet," Gandalf said as he turned to go.

"Gandalf," Thorin started, stopping the grey wizard with a hand on his arm. "Thank you for this…truly."

Gandalf chuckled faintly, nodding at the dwarf before heading back into the forest. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard him mutter, "To think that I should live to see Thorin Oakenshield thankful. Gracious me."

"So," Radagast's voice suddenly sounded in his ear. It took all Thorin's control not to jump. "Gandalf's put you with me."

"Yes," Thorin said slowly, still not certain what to think of the old wizard.

"Well, I suppose we had best get started, then. Tell me, do you prefer mushrooms or tree bark?"

Once again, all Thorin could manage to do for several minutes was blink.

He was going to be here for a while.

XxX

On the day Kili led the dwarves of Erebor against the orcs that had overrun the elven kingdom, he was almost surprised to discover that he felt no fear. On the night before the battle for the mountain, he had been terrified. Even Fili had hardly been able to console him. He even now remembered how they'd lain together, unable to sleep for fear of the hopeless fight they were facing. What if he had known then…that it was to be the last night he ever spent with his brother? Might he have done things differently?

"Did you ever think about…tomorrow never coming?" Fili asked him. The two of them were huddled together on Fili's bedroll, clinging to each other more fiercely than they ever had before.

"Sometimes," he answered softly, vaguely meeting his brother's gaze. "I don't…really think about myself dying, though. What…what really scares me…is the thought of you dying."

"Oh, Kili…"

"I don't know what I would do. I don't think I could handle it," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Well, then…I promise not to die, but you have to promise me, too. I couldn't…live without you, Nadadith," Fili whispered to him, gently stroking his hair, his gaze shifting slightly down.

"Oh, I won't be dying," Kili tried to joke. "In fact, I have this nasty feeling that I'll be living much longer than I want to. Strange."

"Promise me," Fili demanded quietly, his eyes fierce as he gazed into Kili's. "You must not die."

"All right. I promise I won't die. Are you happy?"

Sighing, Fili shook his head as he rolled away from Kili. Then he sat up, facing away from him. "No. Ki…Kili, I…there's something I haven't…I never…I cannot…oh, Kili, I just don't know," he said, his voice leaving his throat in a hiss as he drew his knees up to his chest.

"Fili…what's wrong?" he asked, moving to kneel behind his brother and place his hands on his shoulders.

"There's something I want to tell you…that I should have told you a long time ago…but I don't…I can't…I don't know how," he said. When Kili peeked around, he could see that Fili's face was streaked with silent tears.

"You know you can tell me anything," he tried to soothe, hugging his brother tightly from behind. Fili shook his head again.

"This is different…little Kili."

"Hey! You promised you wouldn't call me that anymore, you stupid orc," he protested, rubbing the side of his face affectionately against Fili's. "After all, I am taller than you."

"Which makes it even funnier," Fili said, chuckling and weeping all at once.

"Fili…really…what's the matter?" he asked again.

Drawing several shuddering breaths, Fili finally turned to face him, his eyes puffy and slightly bloodshot. "You know what? I'll tell you tomorrow…after we've won. We'll find a cask of mead, get drunk off our victory…then I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything."

"But…what if-"

"None of that, baby brother," Fili said, cuddling back up with him. "We have promised not to die, after all."

The one promise his brother had not kept. A lifetime of being completely faithful and true to each other…and he couldn't keep one stinking promise not to die…not to be gutted by an orc weapon and die while he was unconscious…so that he couldn't even say goodbye…couldn't…couldn't even have those precious last words.

At first, he hadn't allowed himself to think about it…what Fili had wanted to say to him. In fact, he had largely forced himself to block out the memory. He didn't think he could bear it…but then Risling had had her dream of him.

If I ever see you again, I will say…the words I could not say seven years ago.

It had now been thirteen years since that time…and even though Fili had left him cold and broken, he had also left him fearless. Because of Fili's death, he now realized, he feared no enemy. He feared no army of thousands. He did not fear death, and that made him a hideously fierce warrior. The only thing that fueled his actions was a cold, hard fury…a raging desire to wipe the creature known as orc from the face of existence…and every orc that met his blade and his arrows knew that rage in the moment of their death.

Watching the new king under the mountain fight was almost like watching a dance. Kili moved fluidly through every attack, stopping for nothing and never failing to hit his mark. Never once did his warriors doubt that their king was made of something more…that he was born to lead them.

Be with me now, Fili, the young king prayed as he cut through the orcs like a sickle through wheat.

"Kili!" he heard Dwalin shout the warning, looking up just in time to block an orc's blade from entering his skull. Their enemy was mostly in retreat now, but a few stubborn clusters still carried on the fight, and Kili's current opponent was particularly stubborn. The foul creature actually managed to get in a good slash with a knife just above his right eye. The stretch forward left his enemy open, though, and Kili pressed his advantage, plunging his blade into the orc's gut and slicing outward to spill his intestines.

The orc didn't die right away. For a moment, he just lay shrieking in a pool of his own innards before the young king finally put the blade through his heart, spitting on the creature's remains as he did so.

Die! Just like he did! All of you! The malicious thought claimed his heart as he turned to search for more foes, even though his sight was somewhat impaired by the blood running into his right eye.

The only group that remained had surrounded Dwalin, though he seemed to be holding his own fairly well…until an orc mace caught him in the neck, sending him sprawling to the floor. Kili saw, but knew the older dwarf was much too far down the corridor for him to reach in time. The two orcs that remained readied their killing blows.

Kili's heart screamed in agony and defiance. Again. Again! It would happen again! He would lose another part of his family! Reaching behind him, he desperately searched his quiver, but found it empty. No. No! NO!

Casting about, the very next thing his gaze fell on was his last opponent…and the quiver at his back, still filled with black-feathered arrows.

Kili snatched an arrow, moving past reason and time. There was no way this should work. His sight was impaired…and it was an orc arrow…not made for a dwarf bow…and yet, was he not the greatest archer ever to come out of Ered Luin? Had Fili not told him so? And with Fili's faith…all things were possible.

Be with me now, Nadad, he prayed once more as he fired the black arrow, his aim true, despite the projectile's greater size and his limited sight. The arrow struck the first orc through the left eye, sending him reeling back and shocking the second enough for Kili to take aim with a second arrow, sending this one through his foe's heart.

A cheer went up as Kili raced to Dwalin's side, but he hardly noticed it.

"Are you all right?" Kili demanded as he crashed to his knees beside the old warrior.

"Leave off, lad. I'm fine," Dwalin said, not completely managing to shrug him off as he struggled to sit up. Then he smirked faintly as he looked around. "Seems to me we've won."

Only then did Kili look up and see the throngs of dwarves cheering. They were cheering…for him.

"Kili! Kili! Kili! To Kili! To the king! He who turns the weapons of the enemies back upon themselves! Black arrow! Blackarrow! To the sign of the Blackarrow! Kili Blackarrow! Kili Blackarrow! King Under the Mountain!"

For a moment, Kili felt almost helpless beneath the adulation. He found himself thinking…this must have been how it happened with Thorin…after Azanulbizar…and he suddenly realized that, like his uncle before him…he was a king…despite everything that told him he couldn't possibly be. Not until this moment had he truly believed it. He was king of Durin's Folk…forged in the heat of battle and the ice of grief. As his warriors raised him above their heads, cheering the victory, he still had no idea what to feel.

How did it come to this?

XxX

Estel, Legolas, and the other Mirkwood refugees hadn't been living in Loth Lorien long when reports of the battle for Mirkwood began to trickle in. Estel came to Legolas one morning with a rather large smile on his face.

"They say that the new king under the mountain has won a great victory against the orcs who have overrun your home. Kili, son of Vili son of Valin. He has driven the orcs from your city."

"But not driven them out of Mirkwood entirely?" Legolas pressed, not looking up from a map of old Beleriand he was looking over.

"No, but that is a task that will take a good deal more than just one battle. Can you not give Kili some credit? He is trying to right Thorin's wrongs."

"A little late," the elf prince said, still unwilling to let go of his anger. "Now that he is king, he suddenly has the wherewithal to act? What was preventing him before?"

"That isn't fair and you know it. No decent being would betray the man he looked to as king. Besides, isn't he better late than not at all? If given the chance, the dwarves of Erebor may yet drive the sickness from Greenwood."

Sighing, Legolas finally pushed the map aside, raising his hands to his temples to try and massage away the ache he felt coming on…but Estel quickly moved in and began to do it for him.

"It will not help you to hold onto this hatred for your friend," he soothed, rubbing gently at the elf's temples. "It will turn you into something you are not…Legolas…and I don't want to see that happen."

"I still don't know whether Kili is my friend or not," Legolas returned, closing his eyes in a brief moment of bliss as he laid his own hands over Estel's. "It seems to me I have trusted too well…as some of my ancestors did where the dwarves are concerned."

"Have you heard they are calling him Kili Blackarrow?" Estel asked with a chuckle. "Apparently he turned the orcs' own weapons against them."

"I don't want to talk about dwarves anymore," the prince said, moaning lightly as he leaned into Estel's touch. "One thing I can never forgive Thorin Oakenshield…he tried to take you away from me," he said, opening his eyes to look up at his hope. "Everyone else is gone now. I cannot lose you…my Estel."

Estel smiled sadly at his companion. "Legolas…meleth nin…what if I were dying and the only way you could save my life was by doing something evil? What would you do?"

For a moment, Legolas looked torn, for he knew what he was being asked and he could never say that it was a different situation. Eventually, though, his resolve settled in his eyes.

"No price is too great for you…meleth nin."

"And I would say the same of you," Estel said, leaning forward and laying a kiss on his brow. "Maybe someday you will see the same in Thorin."

"Would you feel the same…if it had been me he tried to kill?"

Estel's eyes darkened at this, and he ultimately shook his head. "I could not say…for I do not know. We can only pray it never comes to that."

"It may yet, Estel," Legolas said, moving to his feet so the pair could rest their foreheads together, their fingers twining with each other as they stood together. "You are very young and brave, meleth nin…and the world still seems so just in your eyes. But we may yet come to such a darkness," he said, pressing a tender kiss against Estel's lips. Estel sighed softly against him, and for a long while the two just stood, holding each other.

XxX

It was nearly a month after Thorin's departure when Oin and Risling finally cleared Bilbo to depart from the Lonely Mountain. In all that time, he'd been going over maps with Balin and Dwalin…what few maps there were, anyway. The lands to the east of Rhovanion were not well mapped and his friends only had vague ideas of where their fellow dwarf clans resided beyond the Iron Hills.

Balin was fairly certain there was still a dwarf city in the Orocarni, the mountain range near to the eastern coast. Last he knew, a dwarf called Twarin was king there, leader of the Ironfist clan. As there was truly no way to know where Thorin had gone, Bilbo figured it would be best to begin in the East and search until he found him, maybe even for the rest of his life, if need be.

A large crowd had gathered to see the hobbit off. At the front of it all was what remained of the original company, along with their families. Fili and little Zel clung tightly to him, as the others bid him farewell.

"We'll miss you," Fili said, doing her best to keep a brave face.

"Aren't you ever coming back?" Zel sobbed quietly.

"Maybe someday," Bilbo said, patting the dwarfling's head. "I'll miss you both very much. Do you think you could take care of my garden wile I'm away?"

Both siblings nodded, hugging him one last time.

"You remember, lad, you're always welcome here, whether you find him or not," Balin said as Bilbo pulled him into a hug.

"I remember…but I will find him."

"Sure I can't interest ye in any extra blades?" Dwalin asked as he thumped him on the shoulder.

"No. Sting will do just fine," he said, patting the sword strapped to his hip.

"It's going to be horrible not having you around," Ori said, stepping in for a hug. "But we all hope you find him. I wish you luck."

"Thank you. Hopefully you'll have made some changes when I see you next," Bilbo said, meeting Ori's gaze meaningfully, at which the young dwarf blushed lightly.

Dori and Nori were next, and while Dori fussed, Bilbo noticed Nori slip an extra knife into his jacket when he hugged him.

"Now don't be forgetting to bath and eat proper. No reason to behave like a savage, even if you will be living on the road," the eldest of the three brothers advised, wringing his hands slightly before giving the hobbit a hug.

"I pity any creature what gets in your way, master burglar," Gloin said, crushing him in a brief one-armed hug. Oin just offered a grin, signing to him in Iglishmek to take care of himself.

Bila came forward to hug him and Gimli pounded him on the back. The young dwarf had mellowed out a great deal after having his ass handed to him by the hobbit.

"Go show those easterners what the Longbeards are made of."

Bombur and Bifur embraced him together, Bombur slipping him another meat pie for the journey and Bifur miming last minute advice about splitting skulls. Bofur stood apart from the others, though, looking well and truly dejected. When Bilbo approached him, he thought he saw a spark of hurt in his eyes.

"I know you don't want this," Bilbo said, laying his hands on his friend's shoulders. "I know you're worried. You've been my friend from the beginning…my best friend…but you know I have to do this."

At this, Bofur seized him in a fierce embrace, holding him tightly against his chest.

"He don't deserve you," Bofur whispered. Bilbo could feel the warm wetness of his friend's tears against his face as they embraced. "After what he did to you…he don't deserve you."

"I know, Bofur…I know. I'm sorry," Bilbo soothed, speaking to the words his friend wasn't saying just as much as the ones he was.

"I would go with you…you know that, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. I know I wouldn't even have to ask…but this is something I have to do on my own. If I don't go after him, I'll never forgive myself."

"You're a ruddy fool, Bilbo Baggins," Bofur said, slowly starting to release him. "But I suppose it's what makes you you. You drag him back here the minute you find him."

"It's a promise. I will see you all again," he said, squeezing Bofur's hand one last time before moving on to Kili and Risling, who both hugged him.

"You are braver than most beings I know, Bilbo," Risling said, kissing his forehead. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

Kili stared at him oddly for a moment before embracing him again. "Certainly braver than I, my halfling uncle…to face the unknown…so soon after being so badly hurt…"

"Oh, no, Kili…not at all. I cannot imagine the kind of courage it takes…forced to live your life without the one you love."

For a moment, Kili looked almost stricken by his words, but then his face shifted into a sort of half-smile. "Well? What are you waiting for? Don't spend even another minute trying to figure out what it feels like. Get yourself gone."

"One more thing," Bilbo said, turning to Dis and drawing something out of his coat. "Would you keep this for me…in…incase Thorin comes back? I want him to know I haven't forgotten."

The item he offered to his sister-in-law was a lopped off braid of his own hair. Granted, it was not nearly as substantial as the thick braid of dwarven hair that currently resided in his pack, but it was still his…and it would serve as a sign for Thorin. He had gone back to the shorthaired look he'd worn…long before the quest…before Thorin. All of the hair had been cut close except for a single braid that trailed from behind his right ear…his symbol to those who knew…that he was searching for his love.

"I will keep your heart safe…so long as you care for Thorin's," Dis promised as she tucked the braid inside her own cloak. Then she also pulled him into a one-armed hug. "I have no doubt you will keep it from harm. Now go, Nadadith. Go and bring peace to my brother."

Nodding, Bilbo took a deep breath, turning to look at the plains that stretched off and away into the East. Somewhere out in that big, wide world, Thorin was waiting for him. Yet, for some reason, the road ahead didn't seem so frightening as it had that very first time he'd stepped out of Bag End…for this time he knew that his love was waiting for him at the end of this journey.

"Well, it's early yet, and the road is long," Bilbo said, smiling at them all one last time before heading away from the mountain…off toward yet another adventure.

XxX