Guest: I know, I feel for her the most - besides that she's my character.

PS: it certainly isn't, he honestly not very nice. But yeah, I love him too.


Lily loved her husband. She loved him more than anything, save her son, but that did not mean she wanted him to accompany her to speak with Thorin. Now she not only had to look Thorin in the eye and give him the very thing that would break his heart, but she had to do it with her husband's heavy eyes on her – to say the least, it was nerve wracking.

Bard did not touch her, he did not offer comfort – he knew her enough to know it would distress her more. He also knew she did not want it. There were moments when she wanted nothing more than to let him hold her, to seek refuge in the strength of his arms as he enveloped her – this was not that time. This was the time when he loved her the most, when she wanted to stand on her own two feet because any amount of weakness was unbearable. Sometimes he didn't think it was possible to love anyone more than he loved her.

She took a steadying breath before tentatively knocking on the door of the dwarves' temporary residence. Two dwarves were at the door and she was struck by the similarities between them and Thorin.

They looked at the pretty woman and the serious looking dark haired man behind her, wondering what the two wanted. "Kili," the dark haired dwarf greeted finally, bowing low,

"And Fili," greeted the blonde as he too bowed. "At your service," they finished together.

She smiled at them, curtsying. "Lily at yours."

The dwarves looked at the woman's husband. "Bard," he said with a nod of his head.

"I am here to see Thorin," she told the two, who looked at each other before looking back at her and Bard preparing to refuse.

"Let her in," a deep voice ordered and the two stepped aside.

Lily looked past the two dwarves that resembled Thorin to see a large dwarf she knew. "Mister Dwalin," she said, her voice as sweet as it had been thirteen years ago when she'd first met him.

"You remember my name?" he asked giving her a brief half smile before looking at the stoic man behind her – who he now knew was her husband, and the father of her son.

"Of course I remember your name," she told him. She didn't know how she could forget it; he had been the one to take Thorin from her all those year ago.

Dwalin gave her a small nod before beckoning for her and her husband to follow, offering the man no greeting or courtesy. He knocked on a door at the back of house.

"Enter," a deep voice grumbled.

For the third time in a week Lily was brought face to face with Thorin Oakenshield, something she had never thought to do again – only now her heart did not skip a beat, her breath was not stolen, her body not flushed from his nearness – he did not effect her as he used to.

He disregarded the map he had previously been charting a path on, and smiled when he saw her, thinking she had come back to him – why else would she specifically seek him out. His smile fell and his eyes turned cold when he saw her husband behind her. "Lily," he greeted and turned hard eyes on the man she had married.

"Bard," Bard greeted without an ounce of warmth. He offered no, "at your service," nor a "pleased to meet you," there was no courtesy; this was not a pleasant meeting for the two for Lily was the object of both men's desires, and only one of them could have her. What Thorin did not know was that she had already made her choice, and what might have surprised both men was that her choice was not a conscious thought – for Lily, it hadn't really been a choice at all.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you again?" he asked, his eyes trained on Lily, nearly scorching her with their heat.

Bard stood scowling behind her, seeing the desire written plainly on the dwarf's face. Lily had admitted to him that she was no maiden, months before he had admitted his love – that was no surprise. The surprise came from the fact that he was seeing it first hand, and how angry it made him to look at the dwarf. No sympathy did he feel towards Thorin Oakenshield, in no way did he wish him well – not when the dwarf was staring at Lily as though she were still his.

She could feel Bard at her back, feel from how tense he was that he was angry. She took a shaky breath, gripping the drawing book in her hands. "I have come to give you your answer," she told him softly, seeing the surprise in his eyes.

Thorin had known when he saw Bard that Lily was not coming back to him, in truth he had known the moment he discovered she not only a wife but a mother that all hope was foolish. And so he stood looking at Lily, seeing the sadness in her eyes as she looked at him, seeing the fury in Bard's eyes as he glowered at him, seeing the book in her hands, seeing hope had been hopeless.

She placed the book in his hands, his fingers brushing against her – feeling not even a spark of passion in her heart – seeing in his eyes that he had hardened himself. All she could do was hope that he would understand. She left him then, knowing he did not want her stay – that he may not even look through the book – it wasn't until she outside the house that she realized Bard had not followed after her.

He stood staring down the dwarf king, not caring in the slightest who he was. "If you hurt her again, I will kill you," he warned dangerously.

"I am a king," Thorin growled enraged.

"I don't care who are," Bard told him, silencing Thorin by his audacity. "She is my wife, not yours. Look through that and you will know," he said motioning to the book in Thorin's hand, leaving Thorin with a last burning look.

Thorin could not believe the nerve of the man, he was a king. He slammed the book on the table, his hands aching to make fists. His mouth was twitching from the deepness of his scowl, his breathing infuriated. He was infuriated. He flipped to the first page of the book to see a pressed small white flower, and he stared at it with furrowed brows.

Beside the flower was written in Lily's hand, "Perhaps he is not the reason you were brought here." I asked him who I was brought here for if not Thorin and he answered someone new. It seemed so simple, he said it so easily. I wish I could believe him. I wish someone knew could be a man like him. He is kind, and compassionate, and I dare say the sweetest man I have ever met. He is a good man.

If I am to be honest, I wish Thorin were here. I miss him, and I hurt in his absence. I don't know how much more my heart can take. Sometimes I think I am a fool for ever thinking I could ever find him again.

Thorin's anger had all but disappeared. He could hear her voice speaking in his mind, hear the sadness he knew he had put there. Even in the face of Bard's kindness she mourned the loss of him, and he was surprised by how hurt he was to see she was in pain. He could not stop himself, he needed to know more, he turned the page.

He said it reminded him of me, of my eyes. He'd blushed so red. He truly is such a sweet man. I wonder what it is he thinks when he picks them – if it would be too arrogant to believe he may think of me.

There was no mention of Thorin in that one, and as he flipped through more pages he noticed his name grow less and less – as well as her worry for doing Thorin wrong. He did not read them all, though they were mostly the same.

It is so sweet when he blushes.

He said it was pretty, but it did not hold a flame to my beauty.

He tucked it in my hair, and touched my cheek. His touch was like lightening coursing through me.

My heart lept at the timid smile that graced his lips.

I could not keep myself from blushing at his words, at the look in his eye.

On and on it went, the more he flipped the more flowers he stumbled upon. He did not look at the flowers, they were not important. It was the words, her words that he clung to – each one driving the sword deeper in his chest.

He came to a page with hastily written words, water marks from her tears, a small blue flower pressed in the center of the page.

He loves me. He said he loved me, no matter my past. How can I possibly leave now? I don't even know if I love him. I want to, more than anything. It should not be this hard, I should not worry so. He is a good man, a kind man who does not care what I have done. He loves me. And I love him.

He knew from the ink dot beside the word him that she had not realized what she had been writing – he could picture her sitting staring at her words with tears streaming down her face, a laugh escaping her lips as she wrote the next lines.

I love him. I love Bard.

Thorin sat back feeling uneasy, feeling hurt and jaded; feeling as though she had literally just ripped his heart out, was squeezing it before him. He had just watched her fall in love, with a man that was not him – a man Thorin now saw was better than him.

He sat breathing deeply, trying to swallow the knot in his throat. Realizing Bard was the better man for her, that Bard loved her in way that he himself hadn't been able to, had not been easy. In fact, Thorin had sat hating the dark haired man, hating Lily for loving him. But he couldn't for long. It was clear that she had been grieving a love lost and dead, that much he knew. But Bard had loved her, and in doing so he had healed her – and he could not hate either one of them for it.

He knew why she chose Bard, it was simple – he loved her. That was all she ever wanted. And everything else about him – his kindness and warmth, his patience and understanding – well, that's why she loved him.

It would break his heart, he knew it would. And yet he turned the page for more, expecting another flower and more notes. But there weren't any, for he had reached the end of that book. Instead there was a letter addressed to him in Lily's hand.


So next chapter is going to be really short. All it will be is Lily's letter to Thorin - I thought I at least owed them that.