Finally a new chapter!
I've run out of chapters I had on hold so I have literally nothing to upload after this one but I'll try and get some writing done over the weekend. Our company has finally arrived in Lake-Town!

Thanks to all you lovelies for your patience and your likes and your reviews! Enjoy the chapter!


"I can see it!", a loud scream echoed across the vast grassland and the small company of Thorin Oakenshield looked up from their bristling, when Nori came running towards them, waving his arms. "It's only a few more miles, we'll make it by midday!"

From his outlook, a few yards away from the camp, he had spotted the glistening surface of the Long Lake, shining in the early morning sun like liquid emeralds. A sudden flurry overcame Fíli and he grew somewhat squirrelly, gorging his breakfast and packing up his belongings.

"And what are you doing?", Thorin asked curiously, watching his nephew scurry about while once again munching on a handful of poppy seeds.

"We're nearly there", the youngster replied with his mouth full, earning himself a dispraising glare from Dori. "So Kíli is nearby."

It was all the young prince had been talking about for the past three days, ever since they had left the borders of Mirkwood to travel upcountry towards Esgaroth and ultimately Erebor. Kíli here and Kíli there and he had yearned to see him again so badly, it actually pained Bofur and Ori to listen to his chatter and quiet sobbing in the night, when he missed his brother the most. Thorin blamed it on the effects of the poppy seeds and the light fever that still held Fíli in its grip, but he secretly knew where this longing came from. The brothers had never been separated for so long and somewhere deep within, Thorin felt sorry for the both of them.

"How about you pack up here", Gandalf began, getting up from his spot. "And I will go ahead and look for our prince and the burglar?"

"You do that", Thorin agreed and blinked irritated, when his older nephew rushed past him, causing the flames of the campfire to flicker.

"I'll come with you!", Fíli burst out eagerly, shouldering his belongings and stuffing his daggers and throwing axes into various slots scattered around his clothes, nearly toppling over while he tried to attach two axes to his boots in full run.

"In Aulë's name, boy calm down", Dwalin muttered, taking a step to the side so Fíli couldn't run him over. "Did ye sleep on an anthill last night?"

Gandalf merely chuckled, ignoring Thorin's deep sigh and when he set off a few minutes later, he had a chatty young dwarf by his side. They wandered across the grassland by the banks of the Forest River, the very same river that Kíli and Bilbo had travelled on with their raft. Fíli barely shut his mouth for a minute, asking Gandalf various questions but never letting him answer and he kept on playing with the laces of his coat or even one of his blond braids, should his fingers find those first. The wizard watched him with a bemused smile on his old features and he silently envied him a little, for Gandalf had never been that close to anybody in his lifetime.

After a while, they saw a pillar of thin smoke rising up in the air and the cheerful chatter of two different voices was heard across the grassland. Someone apparently seemed to argue about the proper preparation of trout and as soon as Fíli recognised one of the voices as Kíli's, there was no stopping him anymore. The long grass reached up to his knees and made running difficult but the small dwarf quickly ploughed his way through, completely forgetting about Gandalf.

Bilbo and Kíli looked up when fast footsteps approached and when Kíli recognised the figure running towards them, he instantly forgot the trout roasting above the campfire and he forgot about the hobbit and their wet clothes hanging from branches for they had both fallen into the river when they had tried to get off the raft.

A big smile spread on Bilbo's features, when he saw Kíli racing towards his brother and he got up from his spot as well, merrily clapping his hands together.

Kíli hurled himself at his older brother and Fíli caught him safely, all injuries and fever forgotten completely. Their hug was so tight and loving, Gandalf doubted they would ever let go of each other again and small tears of joy rolled down Kíli's cheeks.

"You're well again", he whispered relieved. "Thank Mahal you're well again."

"All thanks to you, little brother", Fíli replied, gently clasping Kíli's cheeks with both hands. Smiling, he leaned his forehead against Kíli's and the younger chuckled quietly, while his brother gently wiped the tears off.

The hobbit quickly mopped his own face with his sleeves and when Gandalf reached him, patting him on the back in a greeting, he muttered something about getting dust into his eyes. They settled down by the small campfire and Kíli did not leave his brother's side once, sitting close to him and occasionally glancing over to him, only to assure himself that he was still there. They shared the fish and chatted a little until Gandalf eventually got up and grabbed his hat and staff again.

"Where are you going?", Fíli asked confused, getting up himself.

"There is a little business I need to take care of", the wizard smiled, placing a large hand on Fíli's head, which the youngster quickly brushed off. Gandalf smiled surprised, for when he had first met the brothers, Fíli hadn't minded the simple gesture much. It seemed as if the boys had grown up quite quickly in the past months.

"What business?", Bilbo inquired but Gandalf only winked at him, being his usual mysterious self.

"But we will see you again before Durin's Day, won't we?", Kíli asked and this time, Gandalf merely shrugged.

"Tell your uncle that you will definitely see me again sooner or later", the wizard replied and he waved them goodbye and thanked for the small meal.

They watched him disappear in the tall grass and sat by the fire again, wondering how to explain this to Thorin. While Kíli and Bilbo seemed quite happy with it, Fíli had grown a little pale for he had witnessed the foul mood of his uncle for the past days and was slightly worried about telling him that they had lost their wizard. Again.

"How is Thorin anyways?", Kíli asked, nudging his brother gently.

"Hm", the older took his time to reply, poking the fire with a small branch. "Don't ask. He's mad at you, he's mad at me, he's mad at the entire world I believe."

"Is he mad at me too?", Bilbo asked carefully, eyebrows raised.

"No", Fíli pondered for a while. "No, I guess he pretty much forgot about you."

"Oh", the hobbit blinked, not sure whether he should be offended or rather relieved for a forgotten hobbit surely wouldn't attract the wrath of a dwarven king. While they waited for the rest of the company to arrive, they watched the sun travel above them, smoking their pipes and gazing at the blue skies. A warm breeze blew across the meadow and surrounded them with the soft rustling of blades of grass and they were content and happy. Especially Bilbo could have stayed like this, lying on his back and watching the few white clouds travelling by forever, for he did not look forward to a dragon and large halls that led him underground once again.

The company reached them by midday, just like Nori had predicted and Fíli felt a little stitch of jealousy, when Thorin greeted Kíli with a loving hug. The sentiment faded soon though, as Thorin leaned towards his nephew, a tiny smile on his lips.

"If you do something like that one more time, your mother will learn about it and you will never be happy again in your life. Understood?", he innocently remarked, leaving a very pale Kíli as he walked on.

"He's scary", Bilbo mumbled quietly.

"Tell me about it", Fíli replied, grabbing his paralysed brother by the sleeve to drag him along.

They journeyed on together and everyone asked Kíli about Thranduil's palace and Bilbo had to tell the story of the raft more than once. Fíli listened and smiled to himself, for he was quite glad that his brother was the centre of attention for a change and he had some quiet time for himself. He was thus surprised when Thorin didn't go mad again after asking about Gandalf. It seemed as if the King of Thorin's Halls had finally grown used to the strange ways of the wizard. As they reached a small hill, their gazes finally fell on Esgaroth, a little to the west.

The town was built on large pillars right above the lake and was completely made from wood. Every house, every ramp, every bridge and quay was whittled and carved from thick, dark wood and when a strong wind came up and waves crashed against the pillars, the whole town swayed a little. A large bridge connected Esgaroth to the land. The dwarves stared in awe for none of them had ever seen a city like this and the hobbit quickly grew a little weary, for he was sick and tired of water.

"It might not be the best idea to enter the city with the whole company at once", Balin noted and Thorin agreed.

He picked Fíli and Kíli to come with him and, very much to everybody's surprise, Bilbo as well, though the hobbit did not quite understand why he should travel ahead and meet the Master of Lake-Town. Kíli encouraged him to come though and the five of them quickly set off, after they had urged Fíli to leave some of his numerous weapons behind, in case the Lake-Men believed the dwarves to be hostile to them.

Watched wearily by the guards but not stopped by them, they soon crossed the large wooden bridge and entered Esgaroth. The royal blue of the cloaks of the dwarves shone bright in the sunlight and they walked tall amongst the men, who curiously watched the unusual company strutting through their streets. They reached a large pool of water right at the centre of the town and on its other side stood a prominent, large building. It was built higher than the remaining ones and sported beautiful carvings and large pillars to support the roof. All the while, Bilbo pondered whether it was a wise idea to build a city entirely from wood when there was a dragon living nearby, but he didn't say anything. They circled the pool and Fíli and Kíli believed Thorin would give some orders as to their behaviour, telling them to be humble and nice but none of that happened. Quite the opposite in fact.

Thorin plainly pushed the large doors open without giving a knock or any other act of courtesy and when the thick wood knocked against the walls with a loud bang and dust whirred in the air, the dwarf stood in the frame, tall and puffed up.

"I am Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King under the Mountain! I return!"

While Fíli and Kíli simply stood behind him, the proud Heirs of Durin they were, Bilbo wished to disappear.

The merry company in the hall stared surprised for a moment and at its head sat the Master of Lake-Town. He was quite an old man and a little chubby at that, dressed in a large fur coat that very much resembled the greatcoat of a king. Amongst them sat a few of the Raft-elves too and they didn't look too happy altogether for one of their rafts had been stolen a few days before.

"King under the Mountain?", one of them asked, arching his eyebrows. "For all I see, at least one of you is a thief and an escapee from the dungeons of our great King Thranduil!"

Kíli suddenly grew very pale and quiet. Alerted, guards approached the small company, ready to grab the young dwarf but they quickly changed their mind when not only Thorin stepped in front of his nephew, but Fíli blocked the way to his brother as well, his hand on the hilt of one of his swords.

"You accuse my sister-son of being a thief?", Thorin growled, looking directly at the elf. "Your King has already performed enough infamy by falsely imprisoning my nephew and thus delaying our journey home. I suggest you do not act so foolishly yourself! Besides, Esgaroth is not part of Thranduil's realm and his word is meaningless here!"

"Now now, gentlemen", the Master of Lake-Town stepped in, soothingly raising his hands. "Let us not cause any upheaval here now, shall we? If you are the King under the Mountain like you claim, Thorin, son of Thráin, then you and your company shall of course be welcome in Lake-Town!"

The word spread quickly and soon the whole town was up on its feet, watching the new arrivals curiously. When the remaining company arrived, they were given shelter and the people of Lake-Town began preparing a feast, for the King under the Mountain had finally returned. They were merry and happy, music played from every corner and colourful banners wafted from every roof and mast and Bilbo was surprised since for once, someone finally was happy about the dwarves being around.

"Why are they so cheerful?", Bilbo soon asked Fíli, clearly puzzled.

"Because Erebor was once the most glorious kingdom here in the north and the Men of Dale had prospered along with us. They all hope that that glory will return once more", the young dwarf smiled.

By nightfall, they lit many paper lanterns and sent them out on the lake. The dwarves watched mesmerized as hundreds of colourful lights swam on the Long Lake and were mirrored on the surface, glowing like innumerable fireflies. Fíli, Kíli and Bilbo sent some lanterns out themselves and gazed at them floating away, laughing happily and clinked their glasses of wine and ale. The dwarves sang merry tunes and played their instruments and the Men of Esgaroth dances and celebrated the return of the King. Thorin watched the spectacle from the seat of the Master of Lake-Town, who had offered it to him though he hadn't seemed too happy about it.

When the moon shone high above the floating city and the music had quieted down and only few people were on the streets still, quietly chatting amongst themselves, Fíli and Kíli stood by the outer border of the city, leaning on a low wooden rail. They gazed at the Lonely Mountain in the distance, admiring the large, black peak that reached up into the clouds, as the mountain lay in total darkness and only its silhouette shone in the night sky. Never before had they seen the home of their forefathers and a strange feeling of fear and pride grew in their little hearts.

"Is that it?", Bilbo asked quietly and both brothers jumped, for they hadn't heard the quiet footsteps of the hobbit.

"Aye", Fíli replied, looking at the mountain again. "That's Erebor."

Bilbo stepped between them and peeked over the rail on tiptoes. He squealed when both brothers grabbed him by his waistcoat and lifted him up to sit on the rail, so he could see more comfortably.

"You really have to stop doing that", the hobbit muttered a little flustered. "That one time with the pony was enough already."

"Just look at it", Kíli mumbled, mesmerized and obviously not listening to Bilbo. "Not long until we will live there again. Not long until we will be home again."

And on that night, for the first time since Bilbo had left the Shire, he saw the longing in the brother's eyes. The strong, undying wish to finally belong somewhere again, to finally have a place they could call home. And even though neither of them had ever seen Erebor before, there was no doubt that they belonged in those halls and that Erebor was their righteous home. Bilbo watched the mountain in the distance and the same warm feeling of belonging overcame him, though his own home was far away.

Neither of them noticed a cloaked figure watching them from a distance. It was neither a dwarf, nor an elf that eyed them from the shadows below the wooden houses, nothing but a slim, tall frame in the dark. The stranger stood watching them for a good while, before a small smile spread on his thin lips and he turned around and disappeared into the darkness.