Hello, friends! I'm back!
And I am also back to tell you that this is the very, very last chapter of this story. While it's been fun writing this, looking back, I've realised that I'm far from happy with this story. Very far. And I don't know how to fix it. So this shall be the very last chapter (even though it's not even the end of AUJ). For all those who've kept up with this story and truly liked it and wanted more, I'm sorry! But I really do think that this will be the very last chapter I will write for this story. Ever.
I hope this is, at the very least, somewhat satisfactory.
"You can be very terrible to him sometimes, you know," Luna says one evening, as she settles on the ground next to Thorin, crossing her legs.
"Do you speak of our burglar?" he asks, glancing over at where Bilbo Baggins sits next to Bofur. The two get along remarkably well, just as how Luna gets along with them so remarkably well. More often than not Thorin will find Luna with them – but he consoles himself with the fact that when she is not with them, she is usually with him.
"Of course I am," she says. "He really is very nice. And I think it very admirable that he is on this journey, when he knows he is very likely to die."
"You chose to set out on this journey," Thorin reminds her.
"Yes, but my life has never really been my own," she says. "Master Baggins has everything – a lovely house, and his armchair and his books and everything – "
"You have people who care for you."
"Yes, but I've always wanted to do something like this."
"I still cannot believe you would risk your life for a quest that is not yours."
"I didn't want to live in that place my whole life and marry some boring boy who would have me stay at home all day to look after the children."
"So you run away from marriage."
"Not exactly. No one has proposed yet."
No one has proposed yet.
Yet.
"I sense that some have confessed their love for you, though."
Luna laughs.
"No. Everyone fell in love with Juliet."
The right moment.
Could this be it? Thorin thinks. For he loves her. He knows he does. He has told Balin that he was waiting for the right moment. The right moment to tell her that he loves her.
He looks at their surroundings, the rocks surrounding them, the dying embers of the fire, their sleeping rolls laid out on the grassy ground. It is cold, and windy, and uncomfortable, and he wonders if this is the right moment to tell her.
He tilts his head up, and looks up at the night sky.
The stars. Scattered across the sky, glinting points of light. Like diamonds, he thinks.
"You aren't angry with me, are you?"
He looks at her in surprise. "Why would I be?"
She shrugs. "You don't – you don't talk as much to me anymore. As much as you did before." She flushes, suddenly – Thorin can see her face turn slightly red, in the dying firelight. "I guess – I guess I must've just been overthinking – "
She is still scrambling to her feet now.
"I'll just – I'll just go – "
"No."
Before Thorin can get his thoughts in order, he has taken her hand and she has frozen.
"Thorin?"
Her eyes meet his, and he swallows, nervously.
"I – "
"Would any of you have a spare cloak?"
Bilbo pops up in front of them then, suddenly, looking sheepish, embarrassed – and then he catches sight of their hands and turns bright red. "Oh, no, I'll just – "
"No, no, I think I have one," Luna says, hurriedly, turning to her things and bringing out a worn, faded cloak. "It's very old, though – "
"I think I went over to them at the wrong timing," Bilbo says to Balin, miserably, after returning with Luna's faded cloak.
Balin chuckles: "Ah, we can't make things that easy for Thorin, can we?"
"He really does care for her a lot, doesn't he?" Bilbo says, looking over to where Thorin and Luna now sit, Luna hugging her legs and speaking softly, Thorin listening intently. "He doesn't even look at Fili and Kili like that."
"Well, lad, you know they're his heirs," says Balin. "He's trying to help them grow up, and quickly. But Luna – he wants to protect her and to shield her from everything." He chuckles again. "Luckily Luna isn't the kind to take that the wrong way."
"She cares for him too, doesn't she?" Bilbo observes.
Balin nods, wisely. "Aye, I believe she does. I'm not very sure just how much, though. She's a quiet lass, doesn't like to say much."
"Thorin doesn't say much either."
"Ah, but his moods are easier to read." Balin smiles to himself.
"You're fond of him, aren't you, lass?"
Luna looks up sharply, and blushes when she sees Balin's eyes fixed on her, a knowing smile on his face: "I – what?"
"Thorin," he says. "You're fond of him, aren't you?"
"Of course I am," she says. "He's my friend."
Balin chuckles. "Don't try to lie your way out of this one, lass. You care for him as more than that, don't you?"
"He has very admirable qualities," she says, evasively.
"Oh?"
Luna shrugs, looking somewhat uncomfortable, but ploughs on. "He's very brave," she says. "And very determined. He's loyal and kind-hearted and good, even if people don't see it. He's lost his father, he's lost his grandfather, his kingdom and all that he has ever known. He is setting out to reclaim a home that may already be destroyed, from a dragon in which he might meet his death. As of now, he has no kingdom, and his people are few in number and dwindling – but still he presses on, even with all the pain and sorrow he has gone through. He is risking his life and fighting for something that he must still work to rebuild and recreate. I think it very admirable."
Balin says nothing for a long while, as they tread along the pathway together.
"Not many see him that way, lass," he finally says, quietly. "He has scared many off, and is considered a reckless fool by many. He is not an easy person to get along with."
"No, he's not," Luna agrees. "But he is honest and true."
"And you care for him."
Luna thinks of Thorin, thinks of that flickering smile, that sideways grin, his low laugh, the ferocity on his face when he fights, the loud, echoing battle cry, his gentleness when speaking with her.
"Yes," she says, finally. "I do."
"Luna," says a voice, and a figure appears from the darkness behind her – Thorin, his eyes bright, his hands clasped together. "There is something I must tell you."
"Yes?" she asks, turning away from her pony, looking at him curiously, inquisitively.
His courage nearly fails him then, but he presses on, continues.
"I think I love you," he says, very simply, looking straight at her, into her eyes, those eyes he knows so well.
She doesn't say a word, but looks at him for a very long moment.
He is a warrior, he reminds himself. He will not back away, he will not run away.
"I need to tell you something, too," she says, finally, and panic rises in him, but he forces it down.
"Yes?"
She smiles at him then, a brilliant smile, and steps forward, takes his hand.
"I think I love you too."
End.