I can't believe this is over! I love you guys, every single one of my readers, so this chapter there will be no list of reviewers, just one big, large, great, huge, massive, enormous, immense, colossal, gigantic, vast, spacious, voluminous, burly, hulking, bulky, fat, gross, important, significant, prominent, influential, notable, famous, principal, main, generous, magnanimous, unselfish, altruistic, gracious, benevolent, arrogant, boastful, pompous, conceited, inflated, pretentious (yes, all the thesaurus definitions for 'big')

THANK YOU

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put that into a calculator and you have the level of my feels right now.

I hope you all enjoy the very last chapter.

One week later, the camp was ready to move to Erebor. It had taken some persuasion from Fili and Kili - not to mention Dain and Gandalf - to persuade Thorin to allow the elves into the newly freed kingdom, but Kili had to admit, it was easier than he had expected. In fact, it was only when he had dropped out of the conversation that Thorin had finally relented, and Kili had a sneaking suspicion that his presence had only reminded his uncle of the matter over Tauriel.

He had not spent nearly as much time as he would have liked with her recently, though it was better than nothing, which was what Thorin would have enforced if he could. Two nights after Thorin's rant, when Kili was sure his uncle was asleep, he had slipped out of the tent and made his way silently to where he remembered Tauriel's tent to be, and found her in the light of a low candle, making arrows. A large pile was accumulating behind her. She stopped when he entered, and they talked for a few hours, before Kili finally got his first sleep for days, head lolling on Tauriel's lap. She had woken him one hour before dawn so that he could get back to his tent, but it hadn't been until Fili pointed it out in the morning that Kili found a single, simple braid in his hair, just behind his left ear, tied off with a piece of coarse twine. He didn't take it out, and Thorin didn't notice, but Kili saw his brother grinning at it widely several times when he thought he wasn't looking. He had returned to Tauriel's tent every night after that, and they found that by alternating the nights that one slept while the other kept watch, both elf and dwarf got enough rest to keep going.

The move up to the mountain was no small feat, by any standards. Many patients were still bedridden, and some - including Gildor - still waged the war between life and death. Carts and wagons came up from the Long Lake for this purpose, as well as ponies for the dwarves who would not be able to walk the whole way but could certainly ride. Thorin was among these, though he insisted that he wasn't, and both Fili and Kili were allocated places on a cart, though Kili had a feeling that if it hadn't been for his status as Prince he would have been allowed to ride a pony instead. Nevertheless, he did not complain, since this arrangement meant that he could ride the whole way next to Fili, who was by now well enough to sit up properly and could walk with Kili's help.

The packing started in the early morning of the day before the departure, and by evening everything but the bare essentials was loaded onto carts and wagons, the rest left to be packed up at sunrise. The following morning, there was no order to things as elves, men, dwarves, one hobbit and one wizard rushed around gathering the last minute items from the rapidly disappearing camp and loading them into bags, packs and horses. Carts carrying the injured were the first to lead the long procession, and Thorin led the entire convoy next to Dain, each on a stout and sturdy pony. Thranduil, Bard and Gandalf stayed behind to see off the larger wagons carrying supplies and materials from the campsite, planning to catch up later on their faster horses.

Fili and Kili found themselves wedged tightly in a corner of a wagon near the front of the convoy, and it was about midday that Kili leaned over the side to see none other than Beorn striding alongside them in his bear form, his great head nodding as he paced metronomically. They had not seen him in all the time since the great battle - the Battle of Five Armies, as everyone was calling it now. Kili nudged his brother gently, minding his ribs, and pointed. Fili's eyes widened as he took in the sight of the great black bear.

"We've got to say something!" Fili whispered, "to thank him,"

"What do you say to a bear?" asked Kili sceptically.

"...I don't know, just, thank you for killing Azog and all those orcs, or something?"

"If he wanted to talk, he wouldn't be in a bear form," Kili pointed out.

"Fine, whatever," Fili sank back down and let the matter drop. To be honest, Beorn didn't seem the kind to appreciate gratitude.

When they arrived in Erebor, they did not remain in the hall that Smaug had used for his bedchamber but turned off to the side, down a straight and perfectly smooth passageway into another great hall, only this one was void of treasure, ornaments, furniture, or even metalwork of any kind. It had been stripped completely bare by the dragon. Off to the side, it was clear that some of Dain's men, sent up to the mountain shortly after the battle, had been hard at work clearing rubble and debris from the hallways leading away to chambers, closets and staircases. Several clear passages already led off into the mountain.

Less than five hours after the arrival of the first carts, the massive room was divided into rough thirds and sectioned off within those thirds by the tents that arose here and there as people protected their privacy. A large infirmary was set up in one corner for those patients still requiring constant medical attention, and a small healer's tent was erected next to it as a drop-in clinic. Some people - namely, a large group of Dain's dwarves - decided that tents would not be needed in the halls of their kin and instead propped up a long rope to declare their territory, laying their bedrolls and provisions inside and keeping one person on watch at all times to make sure no one plundered it.

Nori was all for doing the same with the company - "just like old times" - but Dori quickly subdued that notion in spite of Ori's support for the opposing side. Nevertheless, the tents of the company seemed to naturally congregate in a circle with the Durin tent at the head, and Bombur took it upon himself to set up a ring of stones in the middle with his cooking pot over the top so that they could all have meals together like on the quest. The company's circle soon became known as sacred territory, the fame of the quest and the importance not lost on a single soul beneath the mountain.

Bilbo, Gandalf and Beorn, the 'outcasts', were treated with no less reverence, however each reacted differently. Beorn chose to sleep in a different chamber entirely and kept himself away from attention of any kind, Gandalf did not appear to sleep at all and no one knew where he went half the time, and Bilbo was accepted warmly into the tent of Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, the biggest tent around the company's circle with plenty of room for all four occupants. As the days plodded by and Erebor began to be restored by the hard work of all those fit enough to labour, the evenings around the indoor campfire became a welcome constant for all of them.

Six days after the move, Legolas came to Fili and Kili with welcome news. Unfortunately, the Elven part of the camp was not at all near to the company's circle, but while Fili preferred not to - and could not - move around too much, nothing could stop Thranduil's son from striding confidently across the gigantic hallway and sending tidal waves of disapproval and muttering through the camp of Dain's dwarves with his pointy ears. He found it amusing how much the Iron Hills folk underestimated the capabilities of (or did not care about the proximity of) said ears and did not bother to hush their voices at all as they provided a constant drone of insults behind his back. Not caring in the slightest, Legolas had on occasion stopped to suggest an improvement or a correction to some of their snide comments, leaving the flabbergasted dwarves with rather comical expressions on their faces.

As he neared his destination, Legolas rounded a tent to come face to face with the two people he had come searching for. He grinned as he saw them, and they grinned back, despite not knowing yet the good news he had come to deliver. He noticed that Fili was on his feet without support - a great improvement which lightened Legolas's heart further. Not wanting to waste time, he got to the point.

"Gildor is awake,"

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" exclaimed Kili, jubilation lighting up his features.

"Hey, not too fast," laughed Fili as his brother leapt forwards between the tents. He was limping quite noticeably, but he was walking, which was what counted. With a sheepish grin, not in the slightest dampened, Kili slowed down to allow Fili to catch up, and the three wound their way through the camp towards Oin's healing area.

When they got there, they were not at all surprised to find Tauriel greeting them and showing them towards the most crowded bedside, where it looked like the entire guard was congregated. She had offered her services to Oin - who had unofficially taken charge of the infirmary - the day they had arrived in Erebor, and she had been kept on a tireless work schedule ever since, with barely an hour to spend some (forbidden) time with Kili. The sheer amount of work had relaxed in the last couple of days, however, as the beds slowly cleared either with tears of happiness and relief and the laughter of joyous family members, or with tears of sorrow and a black shroud. Thankfully, the former was far more frequent than the latter, and it was an instance of the former that now took place around Gildor's bed - and in the middle of it, an overjoyed and completely speechless Golradir.

Striding calmly forward, Tauriel ordered the guard to keep down the racket and not to crowd Gildor's bed. They obeyed immediately, and she winced, remembering the choice she had been offered only that morning. She still hadn't made up her mind yet, but her king was giving her time to decide. She needed to speak to someone about it - and 'someone' these days was becoming a synonym for Kili.

She touched his arm gently as the others passed to join the crowd around the member of the guard, and he turned inquisitively, following her off to the side.

"You know, you should really ask for more breaks," he commented, noticing the tiredness in Tauriel's face. In this setup of camp, it was harder for them to sneak away at night and neither had been getting quite enough rest.

"I'm managing," Tauriel smiled, "I'm needed here, and I can't be selfish,"

"You're the most unselfish person I ever met, Tauriel," Kili laughed, "but really, don't tire yourself out too much, all right?"

"Since when did you start giving me advice on wellbeing?" Tauriel raised an eyebrow with a smirk, but then she sank back down and sighed. "I am selfish. Otherwise I wouldn't be faced with this decision - I would have chosen the right option straight away,"

Kili's brows constricted. "What decision?"

"My King has offered me my old post back, as captain of the Palace Guard," Tauriel said, with a note of resentment in her voice, "it's ridiculous not to take it, and neither Amras nor Nienna are ready for the responsibility yet. Not after all they've lost..."

"You lost him too," Kili pointed out softly.

Tauriel looked up gratefully at him, and nodded with a small smile. "You're right, but still I would not press the burden upon them, as they have not carried it before and I have. Much has changed recently, and is still changing. It would be like throwing them into a fast flowing river before teaching them to swim in the shallows,"

Kili nodded in understanding, but still with a slight frown on his face. "So you would take back your old post to give them that small piece of consistency to keep them afloat,"

"Yes," Tauriel smiled at his ability to understand her reasonings, even without ever having made such a decision himself.

"And you would like to go back," Kili observed.

"I would. I have missed it even in the short time of being away from it," admitted Tauriel.

Kili understood - protecting her home was what Tauriel lived for, despite her occasional wish to see more of the world. And he guessed that in this new alliance, the horizon had just widened exponentially for the elves of Mirkwood.

"So what is holding you back?" he asked.

In reply, Tauriel met his eyes, and something jolted in Kili's chest as a thousand possibilities raced through his mind - and a thousand reasons why they could not be clashed against them like an opposing army. Oh how he wished... But he could not take Tauriel's life away from her. This was what she wanted, and if he was the sacrifice she had to make, he would make it as easy for her as he could. She had said this was the selfish option. He had to agree - the guard needed her much more than he did, or at least, all of their needs combined outweighed his own.

His eyes flickered over to the group of elves, joined by his brother. It struck him how out of place Fili looked among all those tall heads, and yet how out of place all the elves looked in contrast to the dwarven stonework behind them. They may be friends, but they clearly belonged in different places. Kili's heart gave an uncomfortable squirm.

"I think you should say yes," he answered, turning his gaze back to Tauriel's anxious face, his voice not coming out as confidently as he had hoped.

"Are...are you sure?" Tauriel's voice was tinged with hope and regret.

Kili nodded firmly. "Yes, you should do it. It's not fair that I take you away from your life. I have my home now, and you have yours, and however much we might wish it, we don't belong in each other's. And..." he broke off, a lump coming to his throat. It was tearing him apart to say this, but he knew he couldn't do anything else. He couldn't meet Tauriel's eyes any more, but he swallowed the lump and continued. "And Uncle would never approve, and I doubt anyone else would either - well, Fili doesn't mind -"

"Legolas doesn't mind," said Tauriel quietly, "although he's not entirely happy about it,"

"And so he shouldn't be," Kili agreed sadly, "my life will be, what, two hundred years more at most? More likely I'll do something stupid and get killed before then anyway, and after that, what do you do? Spend eternity mourning me?"

"Fade," Tauriel said quietly, so quietly that Kili almost didn't hear it.

"What?"

"Fade. When elves are faced with too much grief, such as the loss of a loved one, they fade away and die," her voice dropped, "Golradir nearly faded when it looked like Gildor would not make it,"

Kili looked horrified. "So if you bound yourself to me, you would have to sacrifice your immortality?"

"It is something that, given kinder circumstances, I would do without hesitation," Tauriel replied genuinely.

Kili shook his head frantically. "No, no, I would never let you do that. You can't cut your life short just for the sake of one dwarf,"

"He's not just any dwarf,"

Kili stared into Tauriel's eyes, and she looked back with such intensity that Kili found he could not tear his eyes away. Then, finally, Tauriel dropped her gaze.

"It could not have worked anyway," she said quietly, her face sad.

"We would have made it," said Kili softly.

Tauriel smiled. "I know. We could still. But you have just got your home back, and it would be cruel to force you out of it again,"

"And you have an opportunity to go back to doing what you love, and I would not take it from you,"

There was silence for a moment. They both knew that the decision was made - had been made from the start. The alternative came at too high a cost.

"We mustn't give up," Tauriel broke the silence, "I know that I cannot just let you go,"

"But your immorta-"

"To Mordor with immortality, I'd rather spend a short life with you than a long life without," Tauriel declared, "we cannot give up all hope, or I might as well just fade now. Once our lives have got back to some semblance of order, one of us might think of a way to make it work,"

Kili couldn't keep the grin from his face. "You're right, it's rather hard to imagine what things are going to be like in, say, a year's time. It would be better to let all the other problems be dealt with before creating one ourselves,"

Tauriel nodded. "Until one of us sees a way, it would be better to move on with our lives,"

"I'll come and visit often," Kili promised, "Uncle won't stop me,"

"I'm staying here until the spring anyway," Tauriel smiled, "we have plenty of time before then,"

"As long as these healers don't work you to death," laughed Kili, "I'm telling Oin he needs to give you more breaks whether you like it or not,"

Tauriel laughed, her voice ringing out like bells to Kili's ears, and he felt a pang in his heart. He wished so badly that things could be different, but he was a dwarf and she was an elf and they were never supposed to be together. They had already broken the age long boundaries just by being friends. And though his heart ached to know it, they had made the right choice to wait. But who knew, perhaps one day they could achieve the impossible?

"...Amras?" Fili began hesitantly. It was pure luck that he had found himself standing beside this elf, but he wasn't going to miss the opportunity.

Amras turned, looking slightly surprised to see Fili right next to him, and even more so to hear him addressing him personally. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say...thank you, for what you did on the battlefield. I would not have made it otherwise," Fili knew it came from the bottom of his heart. Despite his initial differences with Amras, this elf had saved his life along with Lenwë. There was no denying that fact.

Amras looked a little taken aback at first, but then smiled. "No, don't thank me. There was nothing else I could have done,"

"Yes there was," argued Fili, "you could have easily ignored me and Kili, or assumed that we were dead,"

The flinch that passed over Amras's face told Fili that indeed, at first, the elf had thought just that. He continued as if unfazed.

"I am forever in your debt. If there is anything you or your kin need, do not hesitate to ask me or my brother - although I wouldn't recommend the same for my uncle," he grinned a little.

Amras smiled. "I never knew that dwarves were so gracious in their manners," he remarked.

Fili raised an eyebrow. "You clearly haven't been paying much attention for the last few weeks then,"

"It is true, I have had my eyes firmly closed," admitted Amras, "and for that I am sorry. I have opened them now, and though I am surely not worthy of your debt, I do ask for your forgiveness,"

"And it is granted," Fili waved a hand dismissively, "don't worry about it. Anything that happened before the battle, forget about it. I am truly and utterly at your service,"

"Don't be," implored Amras, "I don't deserve it. I am just glad that Lenwë and I were not too late. I am ashamed that it took me so long to see past old prejudices and my own stubbornness,"

Fili laughed out loud upon hearing that. "And you elves accuse us dwarves of being stubborn! If it makes you feel any better, that's just what Uncle Thorin is trying to do at the moment. You wouldn't believe the fuss he is making about all this close proximity to other races,"

Amras grinned slightly nervously at the mention of Fili's uncle, and Fili suddenly had a thought. He knew it was a long shot, but if there was a chance of solving the mystery Thorin had been intent on finding out ever since the battle, then it was worth it.

"Amras, you saw Thorin fighting Azog, didn't you?" he questioned slowly.

"I did," nodded the elf with a puzzled frown.

"Then...did you see who fired the arrow that hit Azog's shoulder and saved Uncle's life?"

Amras's eyes widened. "It saved Thorin's life?"

Fili nodded. "Did you see who fired it?"

"I was there - it was Lenwë," said Amras, turning away and looking stricken, "oh, I am so stupid, what was I thinking? Fili, you must forgive me for all the mistakes I have made, but I will understand if you don't,"

"Amras, what's wrong? Lenwë saved my uncle,"

"Yes, and I told him not to fire the arrow, but he did anyway. If he had listened to me, that would never have happened and Thorin would be dead," Amras's face was deeply troubled.

"No, listen Amras," said Fili sternly, "that didn't happen, so don't blame yourself for what might have been. It was a battle; we all make mistakes in battle. I made a grave one, letting Kili out of my sight, and it was only by a combination of sheer luck and elves that it didn't end very badly. As it is, we are all here now, so let us learn from our mistakes but do not dwell on them,"

Amras bowed his head in deep thought, but then his eyes lifted and he looked through his eyebrows at Fili with an impish grin. "You dwarves are certainly wiser than the tales make out. Are you all this good at giving advice?"

Fili laughed, turning slightly pink at the compliment. "Um, well, there are certainly some very wise dwarves who I know, but there are also some who are...not so..."

With a shrug and a smile, Amras replied, "You're one of the wise ones, then. I guess I should have realised before that the whole dwarvish race couldn't all be the same,"

"It's a common misconception among other races," Fili granted, "but tell me, are all the Noldor wiser than the Sindar? And are all Silvan elves foolish and naïve?"

Amras bristled. "Absolutely not! It may hold some element of truth for the wisest among us, for example the Lady Galadriel, but for the rest? No."

"Then you are saying not to judge a realm by it's ruler?" Fili smirked, having proved his point well.

"To an extent, yes," agreed Amras, "a good king will most likely have a prosperous people, but apart from that, there is not much else possible to discern,"

Fili nodded, in total agreement. He was glad of the conversation, for if Amras had come around so well then there couldn't be much ill will left among the elves at all. Now what remained was to convince a mountain of dwarves that the pointy-eared forest-dwellers who had betrayed them years ago were now their friends. Oh well, at least he could do it in stages, as the groups arrived from various corners of the world. And he wouldn't be doing it alone; Kili would help. But for now he had to find Lenwë and repeat his thanks, and Thorin's, for saving all of their lives - twice, it seemed: once with the arrow and again in fetching the Elvenking. He was glad to have found the one responsible for the arrow, since he had a feeling it would have continued to nag at his uncle for as long as it took to solve the mystery. That was one problem down. There were bound to be at least two more cropping up as soon as he got back to the tent, as usual. But he would deal with them as they came. There was a lot of work to do in rebuilding a kingdom.

One week later, Tauriel, Legolas, Kili and Fili all went out of the mountain on what was labelled as a hunting expedition but was really just some downtime between all the formal duties being shoved their way by various leaders. Legolas, left in charge of the elves when his father returned to Mirkwood, had spent the morning negotiating with Bard over the materials to start rebuilding Dale, and both Fili and Kili had been required to attend a meeting beside their uncle with Dain and his counsellors. When they finally left the recently cleared council chamber, neither of them had any more idea of what the meeting had been about than when they had entered, and to their amusement Thorin himself had joked about it being a waste of time; evidently the fast progress with the clearing effort was putting him in a good mood more and more often. Tauriel, of course, had been kept busy by Oin in the infirmary, and it was only by Kili's incessant nagging that the old apothecary gave her the afternoon off.

Out on the snowy mountainside, the four of them were at first sceptical of catching anything at all, since the place was so barren and desolate, however at the sight of the many ravens flying about the mountain they took heart and made their way along the southern spur to Ravenhill as briskly as Fili could go - his injuries by now were almost faded, but they still rendered him the slowest of the four. The ravens, of course, were not the targets for their arrows, but they felt that following any sign of life was the best way to find something they could shoot.

The first rabbit that stumbled across their path, however, was to live another day: Kili and Tauriel were lagging behind, laughing about something or other unknown to Fili and Legolas, and out of the two at the front, only one was actually carrying a bow. Fili had come along partly for the fresh air, and partly for the fun of the snow, something he and Kili had never quite grown out of loving. And so it was that when Kili finally looked around for his brother, he saw an abandoned bow in the snow by his feet and the crown princes of two kingdoms rolling down the hill in the most un-princely snowball fight ever witnessed in all of Arda. He wasted no time in joining in - and that was when Tauriel managed to shoot the rabbit.

Rolling her eyes, the only female of the group strung her catch to her belt and hopped lightly down the steep mountainside in a way that only an elf could, feet barely touching the snow. About half way down, she found Kili standing by a dark rock protruding from the otherwise faultless white blanket while his brother and the Elven prince continued their plight downwards. Tauriel came to a stop beside him.

"What is it?"

In answer, Kili crouched down and brushed the snow off the rock. On it were several scratches that looked as if they had been made by arrows.

"This is where we were at the start of the battle," he said, "I'm sure of it,"

"There are lots of other rocks around," Tauriel pointed out a little unsurely.

"I know, but I just have a feeling it's this one. I recognise the shape of it," replied Kili, bending down further to inspect it, his back to Tauriel. She watched in interest, but she couldn't tell what the dwarf was doing - until a moment later, when he spun round and sent a snowball neatly into her face, a wide grin on his.

"Why...you...!" she spluttered, shaking the snow out of her hair indignantly. Precisely three seconds later, Kili's ear was hit by a deadly accurate and very cold snowball from the side, and the battle was on.

When Legolas and Fili paused for breath, they didn't get long to rest before two figures from above came barrelling into them, covered in snow and throwing more snowballs as they went. As they reached the bottom of the valley, where they no longer had to keep rolling downhill, it quickly turned into an elves versus dwarves fight, which was fairly evenly matched: while the elves had two archers on their side and the dwarves only had one (a fact that Kili was quick to teasingly complain about, earning him a rather accurate snowball from his teammate), the elves also were larger targets due to being taller, and found it harder to duck completely under large rocks.

When the sun started to disappear over the horizon, they finally called the battle to a halt, all red faced, warm and laughing, despite the bitter cold of the air around them. They made their way back up the side of the spur, picking up their belongings as they went, and Tauriel was congratulated for the one piece of meat any of them had been able to catch that afternoon. They walked in relative silence, most of their energy taken by the snowball fight, and as the sun dipped below the horizon they had eyes only for the beauty of the snow in the orange evening light.

The dwarves looked up at the mountain that was now their home, and thought how lucky they were to have it back, and how worth it everything was, because they finally had somewhere to belong. The elves looked west to Mirkwood, a mere shadow on the horizon, and wondered whether the journey could be done in less than a day if ridden alone. All of them realised what all this had cost; the battlefield below them was all too visible, though it was long cleared of bodies and blanketed in snow. And all of them knew it would be a long time before the mountain recovered from this memory, but they would make new memories to bury the old, painful ones, and in the spring the desolation of the dragon would spring up with new life and new growth, making the land between Erebor and Mirkwood green once more. Roads would be built, and with them would be built friendship. Trees would be planted, and with them would grow prosperity. Birds would sing, and with them would be the voices of elves, dwarves and men, singing songs of peace and happiness to the accompaniment of joyous laughter. Buds would open to reveal bright flowers, and with them would open the doors to a brilliant future.

And this is where, according to tradition and long established precedents, I would write the words "The End", however that would be a lie. There is no end. There is never any end. There is only when a story passes from one person's imagination into another's. Thank you, J.R.R. Tolkien. Now my wonderful readers, you may imagine the rest.