Author's note: As tentatively promised earlier today, here's another one. We are now entering the final stage of Kíli's and Tauriel's journey - this is not quite yet the end though.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit.

Chapter XXV

Tauriel crinkled her nose when the rays of the bright midmorning sun tickled her skin. Spring was progressing quickly into summer once more. Her heart swelling with memory, she thought back to the last time she had witnessed this particular change of seasons.

How different her perspective on things had been then. Hugging her infant daughter a little closer to her chest, she marveled at how she could ever have doubted that this child was her's and Kíli's fate. And not just that - since Anniel had come into their lives, she experienced a sense of completeness she had never thought she would find in this life, not after her own family had been so cruelly ripped from her. Oh how wrong she had been...

Kíli, though, he had known from the start. Despite his much younger years, he had embraced the idea of fatherhood almost right from the start. For her, it had taken a little longer to get to this place, but once she had, there had been no going back. And now she could not imagine not being a mother, could not bear the thought of a life in which she would not call this precious girl in her arms her daughter.

As those thoughts passed through her head, she lightly wrapped her arm around Kíli's waist, cupping the back of Anniels head with her free hand. In times where no disturbances were to be expected, they had taken to riding like this - together on one horse, Kíli in front and Tauriel behind him, their daughter nestled against her mother's chest, protected by each of her parents' bodies.

And Tauriel loved those moments - the sun upon her face and the wind in her hair with the two people she loved most in this world so very close to her and the sight of whatever land they were currently passing through stretching out before them. Today, however, the view that presented itself to them was, for all its impressiveness, also cause for a slight, ever building anxiety.

Tauriel could see the tension in Kíli from the way he held his shoulders and she felt her own nervousness making itself known with a small, occasional flutter in the pit of her stomach. Rising over the lands, still a good distance away, but getting closer with each passing minute, was the mountain of Erebor.

Bilbo rode up beside them, using his hand to shield his eyes against the sun. "The Lonely Mountain," he mumbled. "I did not think I would be returning quite so soon - quite possibly never at all."

Tauriel smiled down at him, willing her own, darker thoughts away. "You seem relieved that this is not so."

The hobbit shrugged and smiled. "What can I say? Those dwarves do have a way of worming their way into your heart."

"They do indeed," Tauriel replied softly, tightening her hold around Kíli's waist.

Her dwarf briefly covered her hand with his own before glancing at the sun. Tauriel knew he was trying to estimate how many hours of daylight they had left.

"We are making good time," he concluded. "If nothing unforeseen happens, we will arrive at the gates of Erebor before the sun sets."

Tauriel could not see his face, but she could practically hear the frown that accompanied his words. So could Bilbo, apparently. "We are a few days earlier than we thought we would be," the hobbit remarked. "We could set up camp somewhere, go to the mountain in the morning. I wouldn't mind."

Tauriel sent him a quick smile, silently thanking him for his empathy. They had never discussed this in front of Bilbo, not explicitly at least, but of course he understood that returning to Erebor with a child no one had known about when they left was a cause for trepidation. Also, he was right. Their original plan had been to go around the northern edge of Mirkwood, as they had done over a year before in order to avoid the manifold threats that the forest held.

Not too long after reaching the edge of Tauriel's former homeland, however, they had encountered a small party of Elves, all of which had been members of the guard back when Tauriel had been a captain. To her great surprise, they had treated her with kindness, eying her traveling companions and especially the child that resembled both Kíli and Tauriel a little more every day, with curiosity, but by no means with ill will.

At first, Tauriel had been reluctant to accept their offer of safe passage through Mirkwood, but seeing that they seemed completely unfazed by her remark that they might suffer the same fate she had lest they would be discovered helping her, she had set her doubts aside. She knew all of those elves well, had known most of them for decades, centuries even. They were loyal to both their king and their homeland, but Tauriel also knew that theirs was a group that did not shy away from bending the rules of their king a little. Not if it was for a good cause. And so she had decided to trust them.

Kíli and Bilbo had been a little harder to convince, which was understandable given how their last journey through Mirkwood had went. Kíli, especially, had been worried about venturing into the forest with their small daughter in tow. Eventually, though, once Bilbo had agreed to the plan as well, Kíli had been forced to concede that Tauriel would know how to navigate safely through the trees. And so, for the first time in nearly one year and a half, she had set foot onto the ground that had been her home for centuries.

What she had enjoyed most about their journey through Mirkwood had been the wonder in Anniel's eyes as she had gazed up at the canopy of leaves above their heads, her tiny fists twitching with delight when she discovered a bird flitting around the highest branches or a squirrel hurrying out of sight as they approached. As for the other, more dangerous creatures inhabiting the forest, they were lucky enough to evade an encounter. All in all, the forest had seemed more peaceful to Tauriel than it had not so very long ago, but she knew that this serenity might be treacherous. All kinds of things might still be lurking in the shadows and she had taken great care to always remain alert when they rested, while at the same time making sure that Kíli got the sleep he needed - which had not always been an easy task, given his overall dissatisfaction with their surroundings.

On the day that they had emerged from among the trees, Tauriel had smiled to herself when she heard her companions inhale a very audible breath. Looking over her shoulder, she had lifted her hand in a gesture normally reserved for old friends, bidding Mirkwood goodbye for the time being.

"Did you really just wave at the trees?" Kíli had grumbled beside her, still not happy with them taking the route through the forest instead of around it, even after everything had gone well.

"I did," Tauriel had admitted softly. "And don't tease me for it."

Kíli had looked at her then for a moment, searching her face, his own irritation still leaving its marks on his handsome face. Then his expression had softened. "I won't. I'm sorry."

Tauriel had reached out to touch her hand to his cheek. "Don't be," she had said. "If you did not worry about me and Anniel the way you do, none of us might be here today."

He had covered her hand with this at that, a gesture of gentleness, but she had seen his eyes flicker away from hers to settle on the shape of the mountain in the distance, his thoughts returning to what was waiting for them there more frequently with each passing day now.

It was no surprise, thus, that Bilbo would offer delaying the end of their journey for at least a little while longer.

Tauriel shifted behind Kíli on their horse, half expecting him to take the hobbit up on his offer. After a moment of hesitation, however, he shook his head. "No. We all deserve a comfortable bed and a warm meal after being on the road for so long," he said. "Let us keep moving."

Bilbo shrugged and proceeded to move in front of them, taking the lead for the time being. When Kíli took up the reins again to follow, Tauriel had leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I hope you are right and what awaits us at the mountain is rest and food."

"So am I," he grumbled, his hand straying to her leg to brush his fingers against her thigh as if to reassure himself of her presence. "Even though I would rather not bet on it."

And so they kept up a steady pace for the rest of the day, drawing in on the kingdom of Erebor when the sun was low in the west, but not quite gone yet. A tense silence descended upon their small group as they drew closer, all of them so absorbed with the sight before them that they remained completely oblivious to the whispers of the citizens of Dale whom they passed as they rode alongside the city's wall on their way to the great gate.

Passing by one of the smaller watchtowers that had been disused and in a rather desolate state when they had left, it took them a moment to register a voice that was calling for them – a voice not entirely unknown.

"Oi! Have you all gone as deaf as Óin?"

For a couple of seconds they all looked around in slight confusion, not quite able to locate the source of the voice. It was Tauriel who finally discovered a figure with an oddly shaped hat waving down at them from the top of the tower. She tugged at Kíli's sleeve and pointed upwards, smiling.

Kíli grinned when his eyes, too, discerned the familiar figure of Bofur. "The only thing I might ever go deaf from, is the sound of your constant jabbering," he called back to which Bofur responded with a deep laugh and a hand on his chest, feigning to be hurt by Kíli's words.

"Ha! Good one!" Turning to look over his shoulder, they heard him call to someone else. "Ori! Run over to the gate, lad. It's Kíli with his lass. And they brought the hobbit!"

They heard a muffled shout - "Finally!" - and then the rumble of footsteps from within the tower before the boyish looking dwarf emerged at the bottom, a broad grin plastered on his face.

"How very good to see you!" Ori exclaimed, looking around at all of them.

Kíli seemed surprised with the amount of enthusiasm with which their arrival was met. "It's good to be back," he said after a moment, although it came out rather like a question than a statement. "How is... everything?" He glanced around a little uneasily, as if expecting his uncle to suddenly jump out from behind a rock or something similar.

Ori, though, appeared to be blissfully unaware of the implications of Kili's question. "Good," he replied, "Everything's good - as you can probably see." He gestured at their surroundings and really, much had changed since they had left. Most of the rubble left behind by a dragon and a battle of epic dimensions had been cleared away, structures had been rebuilt. "I'm glad you are here though," Ori added, addressing Kíli. "Your brother has been driving us all insane those last few days, but I am sure that will get better now that you're back."

Tauriel noticed, not for the first time, how Kíli's mood brightened considerably at the mention of his brother. He chuckled, showing signs, for the first time, that he was actually glad to return. "I'm sure he has," he said. "Where is he now?"

"No idea," Ori replied. "If we're lucky, he's with his bride. That's about the only time he seems reasonable these days. Let me just run ahead though and tell everyone you're here. I'm certain they will want to give you a proper welcome."

In front of Tauriel, Kíli gave a little nervous twitch at Ori's words, but before they could stop him, he had already set off, leaving their small company to stare after them. Tauriel swallowed. A big welcoming party was not exactly what they had been hoping for, given the many questions that their arrival would rouse.

"Well, off you go then!" Bofur called out from above when neither one of them moved. "I'll catch up with you later – someone has to remain on guard."

Bilbo turned around to look at them questioningly and, when Kíli gave a small shrug, set off after Ori. On their way to the gate, they took their time, and Tauriel knew that Kíli was gathering his courage for what was to come.

As they approached the wide gate that everyone wanting to enter the kingdom of Erebor would have to pass, the sun hung so low in the sky that it bathed the impressive structure in a golden light. An involuntary laugh escaped Tauriel's lips. Here they were, nervous like little children who had come before their elders to confess their sins, and nature chose this particular moment to present herself at her most glorious.

Kíli turned his head to the side, smirking. "Would you care to share with me what is so funny? It might surely serve to lighten my mood."

Tauriel was about to reply when, from the gleaming gate before them, spilled a small group of people, some of them shielding their eyes against the setting sun, squinting at the travelers approaching the mountain.

Even though they were still some distance away, Tauriel easily discerned the members of their welcoming party. The very round shape of Bombur, something that had to be a large sausage in his hand. Dori, Nori, Bifur - also easily recognized from the axe stickig out of his skull - , Glóin, Óin, his ear trumpet at the ready lest he might miss something important. She was surprised to find a tall figure among the group - Gandalf. She had not thought he would be there and, judging by his joyful cry, neither had Bilbo.

The dwarves were chatting amongst themselves as they came closer, laughing, waving to them. They all fell silent, however, when behind them Thorin emerged from the gate, Balin following in his wake, and parted to make room for their king in their midst.

Tauriel held her breath when, after a few more steps, Kíli stopped their horse. For a few, heavy moments Thorin and his nephew looked at each other, frozen in place, with everyone except for Tauriel shooting anxious glances first at one and then the other.

Finally, Thorin's features relaxed almost imperceptibly. "Welcome," he said, his voice deep and heavy, but not unfriendly.

The other dwarves appeared to take this as a cue to scuttle over to where Bilbo had stopped his pony a few feet away, starting to pull down first him and then his things, immediately beginning to interrogate him for details of their journey.

This left her, and Kíli, and Thorin, and Gandalf. And Anniel, of course, but she was resting comfortably against Tauriel's front, held in place by a large shawl and shielded from anyone's gaze by her father's body. Briefly, Tauriel wondered where Fíli was. In the scenarios she had pictured in her mind, he had been there, a kind of safety net against the possible fallout that Thorin's encounter with the latest addition to his family might cause. Now he was nowhere to be seen though, and there was no going back, not with Thorin already before them.

While Kíli swung a leg over their horse's neck to hop off, Tauriel kept her eyes trained on the dwarven King's features, trying to guess what feelings his nephew's return to the mountain might stir in him. He did not give much away, though, his face stern, but devoid of any emotions that Tauriel could have recognized. When Kíli lightly tapped against her knee, she realized she had gotten lost in her thoughts for a moment. She looked down to see him standing there beside their horse, his hands reaching up towards her, waiting. For a moment she hesitated, her grip onto Anniel tightening. This was how they had discussed it, but still, Tauriel found herself taken by the impulse to turn around her horse and out as much distance between her daughter and the King under the Mountain as possible.

It was Kíli's voice that grounded her in her fears. "Trust me," he whispered, his eyes so full of faith, so full of love, that Tauriel moved without further thought.

Gently, she loosened the knot where the shawl was tied together at her shoulder and transferred Anniel, who was looking about herself with eyes filled with wonder, into Kíli's waiting arms. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Thorin carefully and saw how, gradually, his studiously neutral expression was turning into one of utter confusion as he witnessed the exchange between Kíli and herself.

Shifting his daughter in his arms so that she was settled comfortably, Kíli sent Tauriel a final, slight smile, before turning around to slowly head over to where Thorin stood rooted to the spot, the frown on his face growing deeper with every step his young nephew took towards him.

Tauriel drew a slightly shaky breath as she straightened up in the saddle of their horse once more, neither taking notice of the way her fingernails dug into her skin from where she clutched the reins a little too tighly, nor registering that the chatter of the other dwarves had faded out. All eyes were on Thorin, Kíli, and the bundle he carried in his arms, the distance between the two dwarves growing smaller and smaller.

Finally, Kíli came to stand in front of his uncle. "Thorin," he said, his voice raw with emotion. This was the first he spoke to his uncle in many, many months. And then, in a gesture that actually made Tauriel hold her breath, he pushed the baby into Thorin's arms, who was left with little choice but to hold onto her.

Kíli took a half step back and Tauriel could tell from his stance that this was nowhere as easy for him as he made it look to an outsider. "I would like you to meet Anniel," Kíli continued, his voice just loud enough so that the ones surrounding them could hear what he was saying. "Your grandniece."

For a moment, the world appeared to stand still and Tauriel wondered whether this was the infamous calm before the storm. After a few seconds, she finally let go of the breath she was still holding when she realized that, apparently, there was no storm coming. Not for now, at least. Had it not been her baby daughter that was the cause for it, the utterly perplexed expression on Thorin's face as he gazed down at the child in his arms might actually have provided a source of amusement to Tauriel.

As it was, she slipped out of the saddle, unable to hold herself back any longer, and silently made her way over to come to stand a few feet behind Kíli.

"I do not understand," Thorin said to Kíli, looking from the baby he held awkwardly in his arms to his nephew and back.

Tauriel stepped a little closer still, until she was able to put her hand on Kíli's shoulder. He did not outwardly acknowledge her closeness, but she could feel him lean into her touch ever so slightly, drawing strength from her presence.

"Yes, you do," he said to Thorin, his voice very low, but no less firm.

The dwarf king looked up, his gaze flitting to the face of his young nephew and then to Tauriel standing behind him. She bravely held his gaze for a moment, trying to affirm for him the many questions behind his stare.

Again, Thorin looked down at the baby, his mouth opening and closing, but no words coming out. Tauriel saw her daughter watch the raven haired, stern dwarf with attentive eyes. And then, in a moment that Tauriel thought would cause her heart to stop, Anniel - that blessed child - reached out to tug at Thorin's dark beard with her hand balled into a tiny fist, a happy squeal bubbling out of her as she did so.

Tauriel winced, knowing from experience that her daughter was not always gentle in her displays of affection. In front of her, Kíli quickly took a step forward, ready to take Anniel away from Thorin when he raised his hand, his brow furrowing in pain. They both watched, breathless and frozen in place, as Thorin, with unexpected gentleness, pried Anniel's fingers loose from his beard, and Tauriel was surprised to see the trace of a smile grace his lips when the little girl curled her hand around his forefinger instead.

Thorin seemed about to speak, but they never found out what it was he was going to say because Fíli chose that particular moment to make an entry, his mother, Dwalin and Ori in two, thereby completing the party of dwarves.

"Where is this niece of mine?" the blonde dwarf exclaimed, bursting through the small group of dwarves that was still gathered around Bilbo and Gandalf a few feet away. Without further ado, Fíli came over and took Anniel out of Thorin's arms, swinging her around so that she squealed in delight. The action seemed innocent enough, an uncle greeting his niece for the first time, but Tauriel could tell from the brief, meaningful look Fíli exchanged with his brother that he, too, was not inclined to push their luck too far when it came to Thorin's temper.

His relief tangible, Kíli took a step back to stand beside Tauriel as they watched Fíli, Dís, and some of the others welcoming their daughter, who seemed to enjoy all the attention she was getting.

"So far, so good," Kíli muttered, so that only she could hear, and she followed his line of gaze to where Thorin still stood, looking almost lost until Bilbo made his way over to him to greet him.

"This went much better than we dared to hope," she said, wondering if they could allow themselves the luxury of trusting that all would be well, for once. Only time would tell how Thorin would truly digest the news of hers and Kíli's offspring, she concluded. Reaching out, she laced her fingers through Kíli's. "Come," she said. "Your family will want to greet you as well."

"And you," he said pointedly, reminding her that she, too, had people there that cared about her. A family.

"Yes," she returned simply, smiling tightly at him before following him to the small crowd assembled before the gates of Erebor while the sun laid itself to rest in the west, the last rays of light guiding them on their way into the great kingdom of the dwarves.

One more chapter to go...Or two, maybe :-D Depending what my muse is telling me to do. Thanks for reading and reviewing!