Alright, so I was going to post this chapter in honor of the new year. Instead, my computer decided to completely shit itself and erase everything I had on it, including all the progress I had done on this chapter. So I rewrote it, though not in time for the end of 2015. So here's a late happy new year, and may your 2016 be wonderful!

Hobbit (c) Tolkien

Summer blends into fall, which passes in a string of blissful days. The weather turns chilly, the harvest comes in, and suddenly there is only one topic on anyone's minds: Durin's Day, the new year. It hardly occurs to you that the time is nearing until you hear Kili mention it.

"Already?" you gasp. "Have we really been here a whole year?"

"It is hard to believe, isn't it? You should keep an eye out for all the parties and events. I'm sure this year will be particularly special since it's our first time celebrating at home in so long."

"Are there any particular traditions for Durin's Day I should be aware of?"

"We spend time with our friends and family and reflect on the past year and exchange gifts. And this year there will probably be a huge feast in the biggest hall."

You do the math. The holiday is less than three weeks away. If you're going to work out a decent present for Thorin, you'll have to start right now. After a good session of thinking, you decide to make him braid cuffs. It's a small but meaningful gift that you're sure you can figure out how to make in the allotted time.

You start by carving a mold into a block of wood like you had when you made the model of the Mountain. It takes a few hours and several logs to obtain a level of detail you're satisfied with. Mold in hand, you descend to the forges, this time making very sure to ask for directions when you get even the slightest bit out of sorts.

You find an area to work and obtain some molten silver. You've never cast anything before, but it's the new year, so why not? You carefully pour the metal into the mold. The end result is an adorable little bead. Three more join it before the wooden mold is too burned to serve. Inserting the tiny pins in the hinges is much less enjoyable and nearly impossible, but you manage, and after a nice polishing, the result of all your hard work lies gleaming in your palm.

You're excited to tempt Thorin with hints about his gifts and take the chance to do so that evening. "I finished your present for Durin's Day," you gloat.

"What a coincidence," he says lightly. "So have I."

You're instantly derailed. "Ooh, really? What is it?"

"You'll have to wait and see. I think you'll like it, though. You actually requested it."

"I did?" You blink. "I don't remember asking for anything. Wait, wait, I'm getting distracted! I'm supposed to be teasing you!"

"By all means, then."

You pout. "You're not the least bit curious."

"I am extremely curious as to what you could have possibly gotten up to, but I can wait. After all, you are already the greatest gift I could ask for."

"I - you - you made me forget what I was talking about!"

"Durin's Day?" he reminds you innocently. You squint at him. "Go ahead and tease me. I'm all ears."

"Well, it's practical and I made it all by myself and I'm really excited because you can use it every day."

"That certainly opens up the possibilities. I'll not guess, though, so as not to spoil it."

"Now, about my present..."

"You'll have to have a bit of patience for that, love."

"Patience is the one thing I do have!"

The atmosphere becomes increasingly charged with anticipation the closer it gets to the holiday. Decorations adorn every stable surface, turning Erebor silver and gold. Individual parties pop up and run their course. Wishes for a good new year are as common as dust from the mines. You love the extra cheer and goodwill the season has brought.

The season also brings a particularly unexpected treat. Two days before the new year, Thorin enters the room during the late afternoon, uncharacteristically excited. "We're going to a play," he tells you, eyes gleaming.

"A play?" you repeat, shocked. "I didn't know Dwarves do theatre!"

"It's an important part of our culture. Most plays are historical reenactments that keep the young ones aware of the past. This one should be particularly interesting. So go on, go get dressed!"

You throw on the proper attire, and you and Thorin meet Fili, Kili, and Dis outside a theatre in a part of Erebor you've never been to before. The interior of the theatre is a work of art in itself: thick black tapestries hang on the walls for acoustics' sake, the seating is extensive and comfortable, and the stage itself has the artistry of one on Broadway. Your group snags some prime seats near the orchestra pit.

You fidget impatiently as the orchestra tunes. "What are we seeing?" you ask Thorin.

"Wait and see," he replies with a sly smile.

"Wha - why can't you just tell me?!"

"I think you'll appreciate it more if it's a surprise."

You groan and wiggle in your seat. You're just about to explode when the lights dim and the orchestra strikes up a tune. From there, all the attention you can possibly muster is locked on the stage.

You can't initially work out what historic event this particular play is supposed to be representing. It begins with a bunch of Dwarves coming to a friend's house for a party, but what sort of party was so wild that it made history? Only when a female actor who is clearly on platform shoes appears to the outrage of the others do you understand.

"It's us!" you gasp aloud, forgetting the etiquiette of the theatre. "This is our story!"

It is indeed the story of the quest to reclaim Erebor, and you notice right away that the writers took quite a few "creative freedoms" with some of the details. The most glaring and amusing alteration is the portrayal of your and Thorin's immediate relationship. Instead of outright dislike, the dynamic becomes a love-hate dance full of witty banter. It's what could have been were you a little braver and Thorin less grouchy. Still, you wonder what prompted the change. Perhaps this was how the story was told, or it evolved this way, or it was assumed to have been such, or maybe the writers didn't want to offend anyone by suggesting that the King and Queen's relationship had ever been lacking any kindness.

The play company fights its way through trolls and goblins and spiders and orcs and Smaug himself. The audience oohs and ahhs and laughs in all the right places. Despite already knowing the story, you're so engrossed that nothing short of the Mountain imploding could shake your attention. The special effects are particularly impressive, given the level of technology available; the goblin and orc masks are grotesquely realistic, and the spiders are gross, and Smaug goes up in an ironic ball of multicolored flame and sparks upon his death.

It's only at the end when the telling turns questionable. You'd long suspected that the standard story that circulated had exaggerated your heroics in the final battle - how else would the Dwarves accept you so quickly? - and now you have proof. The Ravenhill scene runs quickly down the spectrum from "creative liberties" to "kind of cheesy". For example, you recall quite clearly going over the frozen waterfall and having to claw you way back up. You do not remember being under constant fire from a barrage of arrows the whole time. The fight with Azog is even worse, as you're certain you did not dramatically throw yourself between Azog and a staggered Thorin to take a devastating hit - it was more of a charging tackle. Nevertheless, the audience gasps at the selfless act. The play concludes with you and Thorin confessing your feelings for each other as you lie in his arms, and then a flash-forward to the glorious retaking of the Mountain.

The actors receive a well-earned standing ovation. You bounce as you clap, thrilled to have been able to relive the adventure of a lifetime without having to sleep outside even once. After the curtains close, you're sure to seek out the cast and gush to them about how wonderful everything was. The actors are humble, but they seem to be very pleased with your praise.

"That was amazing!" you chirp, exiting the theatre with the others. "Wasn't it? Did you all love it?"

Dis says, "It certainly was a treat, though I didn't like seeing the sort of danger you all were in."

"Don't worry, amad, we were only in mortal peril every other day," Kili says brightly.

"It was good," Thorin agrees. He looks very satisfied.

Dis laughs. "You would enjoy it. How long has it been since you've seen a play?"

You blink at Thorin. "You like theatre?"

Thorin shoots Dis a look and doesn't respond, but you're not about to let this new facet of your husband's personality go unexamined. When you go to bed that night, you roll over to face him and say suggestively, "So...I heard you're into performing arts."

"Dis does not know when to leave childhood in the past," Thorin grumbles.

"But that's so cute! Did the three of you put on skits when you were little?"

"Aniel, there are thousands of rooms in this Mountain, and I will go and sleep in one of them."

You cackle into his shoulder at the dubious threat. "I wasn't teasing, I really want to know! I never thought you would be interested in it. I like the idea."

"I...enjoy theatre, yes," he admits.

"Were you ever in any shows?"

"No."

"If I wrote a play, would you be in it?"

"I would do much for you, but I won't do that."

"Yeah, fair enough. We should go see more plays, though. The show was fantastic, even considering the, uh, artistic freedoms taken with the script."

"It's a shame Bilbo wasn't here to see it. I think he would have enjoyed it."

"Bilbo?" you repeat, looking at him sharply.

"I wrote him a few months ago and invited him for the holiday. I have a small thing planned for the company, and the company would not be complete without its burglar."

Bilbo arrives early in the morning of Durin's Day. You're so excited to see him that you spin him around and around in a tight hug. "You missed it!" you exclaim once you set him down. "You missed the play!"

"Hello to you, too," he laughs.

"Oh, right, greetings come first. Hello, Bilbo! How have you been? How has the Shire been? How has - ?"

"Goodness, I forgot how excitable you are! I have been very well, and the Shire is as peaceful as ever. Now, what about a play?"

"We went to a play the other day and - oh, but I don't want to spoil it. I'll bet we could go and see it again before you leave."

Thorin comes just then. He embraces Bilbo briefly. "I'm glad you could come, my friend. It wouldn't have been a proper celebration without you."

"Thank you very much for inviting me! I'm quite honored to be part of such an important celebration. And look at this!" Bilbo gazes around the bustling atrium. "Erebor is alive again! Just as beautiful as I imagined it should be. I should like to have a tour sometime."

"I'll take you myself. You're not the only one who should have a tour," Thorin says, winking at you. You make a face back.

You chatter at Bilbo all the way to his room. Without such instant communication as texting and calling, there's much catching up to do. He hasn't been up to much, about which he seems very pleased, but he's very interested to hear all about your most recent adventures.

"Well, I got lost in the mines the other month, which is why Thorin was teasing me," you begin.

"The mines?" Bilbo blinks up at you. "What were you doing down there?"

"I wasn't. I was trying to get to the forges."

"My word, Aniel!"

I shrugged. "It happens."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I lost my good gardening trowel for a whole week."

You laugh. That Bilbo now only has such non-critical worries is very reassuring. "Actually, yes, it does."

You let Bilbo get some rest before the epic party that will surely be the night. Meanwhile, you select an outfit that will be both appropriate and allow for revelry. You're browsing through the closet when Thorin's arms slip around your waist.

"I have something for you before you get dressed," he says with a gentle kiss on your jaw.

"Is it my present?"

"Right, as always."

"Then I'll get yours, too!"

You run and grab the little velvet bag you put the clasps in from one of your many jewelry boxes. Thorin pulls a flat box from nowhere. You both sit on the bed, you vibrating with excitement. Thorin sets his box on your lap and places your hands on it. You yank it open with little decorum.

Inside is the most stunning necklace you've ever seen. It drips with rows and rows of starlight jewels of varying cuts that flow to a pointed end. The whole piece would take up half of your chest. You hesitate in even touching it and look up at Thorin with wide eyes.

"I had it from a very artistic friend of ours that you fancied a nice necklace," Thorin says with a smile.

"Ori," you realize. "Yes, I had him make a sketch of Thranduil's necklace. Did you - ?"

"I made a better one. Do you like it?"

"Of course I do! Goodness, whatever will I wear it with?"

"Wear it tonight! That's why I'm giving it to you now. You'll make it look stunning."

You sigh. "Well, mine's no night sky, but I think you'll like it! I made them all by myself."

"And that's why I'll like it. Give it here."

You hand over the bag. He shakes the clasps into his palm. He gapes slightly as he realizes what they are. You can't help but feel a bit pleased at his reaction.

Thorin kisses you suddenly in a way that makes your head spin. "Amralime, you made these for me?" he asks, his voice deep with emotion.

"Y-Yeah. You like them?"

"They are perfect, just like you. Put them in for me?"

You snap the beads into place at the ends of his braids, feeling quite accomplished. You've never made Thorin anything he could wear. For such a reaction, you think that you might have to change that.

Thorin takes a look in the mirror and then spins you around. You squeal and clutch onto him. "I should make you things more often," you giggle.

"I have a mind to desert the festivities tonight and have our own celebration," Thorin says, pulling you close.

"Really? Huh, well, happy new year to me!"

"You would be agreeable?"

"Agreeable to bedding you all night? Extremely."

"Hmm." Thorin glances to the window. It's still early afternoon. "Well, it looks like we've got time."

You'd come up to your room to get dressed. You end up doing the exact opposite.

It's early evening by the time you finally get dressed, which you do in a bit of a daze. You're not sure you'll be able to focus on the festivities of the night after the activities of the afternoon. Thorin is rather smug as he moves around the room, also dressing. You would have suggested extending your "celebration", but you're very curious to see what Thorin has in store for the company.

The sun is just sinking in the sky when you and Thorin go pick up Bilbo. Both of you ask Thorin where you're headed. He tells you to wait and see. You pick up a few more friends on the way; Balin and Dwalin and Bofur join you on the walk to wherever. You realize it once you're close: you're headed to the landing where the secret door was! What on earth did Thorin have planned?

The entire company eventually gathers on the landing. You enjoy catching up with them; you'd seen them from time to time, but it had been a long time since you'd all been together. Thorin soon steps up quietly. Silence falls.

He begins, "I could never until recently be accused of sentimentality..."

Everyone chuckles. Balin winks at you.

"But as the new year approached, I found myself thinking of how we would not be where we are today without every single person standing here. When I called for aid, you were the ones who answered, regardless of how dangerous and futile the underaking seemed. This is what we have to show for it: our homeland reclaimed, and Erebor restored. So I want to thank each of you for your courage and loyalty."

Everyone bows low in return. Bilbo says softly, "The sun has set."

Indeed, while Thorin was talking, the sun had set and the moon had come out. You realize with a start that you were standing in this same spot exactly one year ago, when Erebor was still a deserted kingdom of old and Smaug still hoarded its treasure. Now Erebor is thriving and alive once more. So much has happened in the past year that you can hardly comprehend it. You catch Thorin's eye. He gives you a small smile, indicating that the timing and location of his speech were no accident.

It's something incredible to walk into Erebor with the same people at the same time on the same day one year later and reflect on how much had changed. The walls and floors are no longer dull with dust and neglect. It's not so oppressively silent that you can hear your heart beating. And, of course, there's no impending sense of danger since the slumbering dragon has long been displaced. You make your way through the various parties going on and bleeding into one another. The Mountain is so alive tonight that it makes you emotional.

Everyone cheers when the company enters the feast hall. You take your place at the table beside Thorin. The amount of food laid out is staggering, but then again so is the amount of Dwarves present. You hardly know where to begin with eating, so instead you lean over to Thorin.

"That was beautiful of you to do," you tell him, planting a kiss on his temple. "I can't believe it's been a whole year since we first arrived here."

"Neither can I. So much has changed, and for the better. I wouldn't have it any other way."

The celebration goes on for hours. Ale flows like the Anduin. There's enough food to feed a small country. Songs compete with each other to be the loudest. Dancers don't confine their activities to the floor. There's so much unrestrained joy and excitement that it energizes you to join in. You drag Thorin to the dancing area. The two of you spin with the other couples, and Thorin is actually laughing, and suddenly it's the best Durin's Day in history.

You're not really sure how you ended up back in your room, only that you and Thorin are laughing at an already-forgotten joke when you collapse on the bed. You're vaguely aware that maybe you partied a little *too* hard, but your limbs are tingly and your stomach hurts from laughing, so you really don't care.

"That was better...than the coronation," Thorin mumbles, snuggling in the pillows.

"Turning in already?" you tease.

"You're not?"

"Nah, it's the new year! Live a little!"

Thorin joins you on the furs by the fireplace. You roll around luxuriously on them and giggle. He retrieves some pillows and a quilt and the two of you make a cozy nest there in the floor. All the layers in conjunction with the fire heats you up quickly, so you oh-so-casually peel off a few layers of clothes and toss them. Thorin catches your drift, and it's not long before all the two of you are wearing is the blanket. You feel very accomplished.

"I have a question," you begin slyly, rolling over to face him.

He grins. "Ask away."

"That time you saw me dancing naked in the woods..."

"Will you ever let me live that down?!"

"Not as long as I live. What did you think was going on before you realized it was me?"

"I thought you were a wood nymph or some other such creature."

"You did not!"

"I did! You move beautifully, by the way, clothed or not."

You blush and cover your face. "Is it even possible for me to make you flustered?"

"You could always use this new year to find out."

You laugh and kiss him. You wouldn't have thought a year ago that you'd end up here. A year ago, you weren't even thinking more than a few days ahead. Now, however, the future is laid out in front of you for decades to come, and it is exceedingly bright.