He hated her. In that moment, when she turned towards his voice happily – easily as though this were her home – Thorin hated her. He could see she was shocked at seeing him, could see it in the way she could not catch her breath as she stared wide eyed at him. He hated her.

"There was a feast for the king returned, did you not hear about it?" he asked dangerously, his eyes blackened by his anger, but mostly by his hurt.

That had been the source of the yells, she realized. Thorin had returned for his kingdom as she had always known he would.

"The years have treated you well, Lily," he said stepping toward her, seeing the wary look in her eye, knowing she knew him enough to know he was beyond rage. "Will you come to the feast tonight?"

She shook her head, trying to make words leave her tongue. "I have a household to run," was her pitiful answer.

"For you and your husband," he said spitting the word husband, realizing from the look on her face that she was in fact wed to the dark haired man. The look in her eye changed though, her eyes grew sadder – almost ashamed – and she opened her mouth to speak before she was interrupted.

"Mother."

Thorin looked behind Lily to see a boy of perhaps ten coming to stand at her side. He did not look like her, his hair dark and wild, his face that of his father's. But his eyes were her; he had her bright blue eyes filled with warmth and yearning for life.

"Take this home, I will be there shortly," she said handing her son the basket of food.

"Mother, who is,"

"Do as I say, Bain," she said sternly, though Thorin could see how upset she really was. Bain could too, he knew his mother too well not to.

"Yes ma'am," he said taking the basket and reaching up to kiss her cheek.

Lily slowly turned back to Thorin to see him watching her son walk away, shock and pain and fury written all over his face.

She did not wait for him – that was the thought running through his mind. She must have married within three years after he'd left.

"Thorin," she said softly.

He felt her speaking his name like a dagger in his heart; she was not his. Not anymore. "How dare you?" he asked her, nearly whispering in his hurting.

"Thorin," she said again, feeling the tears gathering in her eyes.

"I waited for you," he said louder, his voice now showing his barely constrained anger, "for thirteen years."

She nearly winced at his tone, at his voice which was filled with such desperate nonunderstanding that she could not look at him.

"I did not look at another woman. I loved you for thirteen years, and I come to find this?" If he had been anyone else, anyone not Thorin Oakenshield, he would have realized he was being cruel to stop the threat of tears – but crying was so foreign to him he did not realize.

The fact that Thorin had just said he loved her, after waiting for it for so long, was completely lost on her. Instead she looked up at him outraged. "No right do you have to say that I did not love you," she told him crossly, fighting back her own tears. "That I love you. I came here for you."

"I am not the reason why you are here," he hissed, the proof being in her son. He knew he'd overstepped, that he had insulted her by insinuating she had not loved him; he didn't care.

"I came here for you," she told him again, her voice firmer.

He looked at her, seeing her hair was longer and darker, her breasts were rounder, her hips wider, her face softer and happy; the only thing about her that had not changed were her eyes, and it ignited something in him to know the love and joy in her eyes was aimed at another. "I am not the reason you stayed," he told her quietly.

She nearly deflated at that, for it was nothing but the truth. She'd stayed for Bard, because he loved her, because she loved him. Thorin had not been apart of that decision, he hadn't been apart of her life from the moment she chose Bard. But he had stayed with her in her heart, where he would remain always. So why couldn't he see that?

There were so many things he wanted to say to her, things that would hurt her as much as he was hurting. He could call her a whore, tell her she would never find someone to love her as fiercely as he had and that she should have loved him enough to see that he did in fact love her. But he didn't say those things, how could he? He loved her. Instead he took a step back, hardening himself toward her as he should have done years ago. "You should go," he said dismissing her, seeing the hurt in her eyes before she masked it.

After thirteen years he brushed her aside as though she did not matter to him, and that hurt her more than his words ever could have. The difference between their pain was that Lily had moved on – she was hurt, but she had Bard. And in truth she loved him more than she ever had Thorin. But Thorin did not have another, he was alone in his pain. Alone to drown in the memories of a young woman who had once meant everything to him.

So their first meeting did not go very well. But I'll say this, it won't be their last. Lily and Thorin will talk and she will show him that she hadn't meant to fall for Bard, and Thorin's reaction may not be what you expect. Since he is fiery and passionate, and holds grudges. Thank you all very much for reviewing, my flights sucked so your reviews did actually mean a lot. So thanks.