For the last time, I don't own the Hobbit. So, I hope you all enjoy the chapter and it's what you expected. If you don't like it, well, tell me what you think I missed and I'll try to include it. Thank you, all of you. I couldn't have done this without you. I want to especially thank Narsil and Nimrodel, who've been with me almost from the beginning. They couldn't have carried me alone though, so all of you give yourselves a huge thumbs up!:) Now to Elf of the Shire, or maybe Elf of the Shire, the rewrite...I have been told six chapters is a little excessive for what is essentially one night, and I kind of agree, but I don't want to lose whatever it is people like about the story so we'll see. Let me know if there are any improvements you want me to make. After that, a little break, then on to Luin's sequel! Hope to see you there!
Luin closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in finally having the wind under her wings again. It had taken her a month after the battle to have the energy to wake, and it might have taken longer if her friends and family hadn't figured out how to pour broth down her long throat.
She twirled lazily, her passenger squawking a bit in surprise and outrage. She was grateful for all the care she'd received, of course. But it had taken more than five weeks after she'd finally woken for the healers to allow her to do anything more than hobble along, the hardened plaster on her foreleg bumping he chest annoyingly with every step.
She knew she should be grateful, for without their help she would probably never have been able to use it again. It had been badly shattered, but through some weird mix of dwarven and elvish healing (singing? Really?) the bone had been set and healed.
It would always be a little weak compared to the other, though. She'd have to relearn how to use a bow to compensate.
But she wouldn't allow such gloomy thoughts to cloud her first true feeling of freedom in far too long. She'd been surprised that Thorin had held his coronation for her, and even more surprised at the set of rooms he'd set aside for her in the mountain.
He wasn't the only one to do so, either. Bard had taken her aside when she'd gone to visit his children, and informed her that there would always be a place for her among the Men of Dale.
She had been extremely grateful, but after the third person had bowed to her with a really strange look his eyes...she was starting to get uncomfortable. Especially since it hadn't stopped there. Everyone in Dale seemed to treat her like a hero of legend...that was her father, people!
Her father had only looked amused when she complained about it, and told her it was her own fault for throwing herself into the fray when she was all ready injured. She had made a face at that, but really had no rebuttal.
When the elven king had gotten into the act however, she'd decided it was time to head for home. She wasn't entirely sure where that was, but she wanted to go there as fast as possible.
Unfortunately she discovered that Thranduil, at least, had an actual claim on her time. Her father had bartered a year in that horrible forest for permanent safe passage from the Mirkwood elves. She had not been pleased to find that out, at all.
She had instantly told him that if she had to do it, he did too, and she wasn't going to be staying anywhere until she'd seen Bilbo home safely. He had agreed, and made arrangements for them to travel to Rivendell as soon as the healers thought she was ready.
It had caused a lot of tears as she'd said goodbye to all of the friends she'd made along the way. Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda had cried and made her promise to come back to visit as often as she could. The Company had informed her that she couldn't get rid of them that easily, and surprised her with an ambush a few days later.
They had cornered her father and gotten permission to adopt her into their families...so now she had official dwarven family and a thin braid that started at her temple and had five beads woven into it. One for the line of Durin, and one each for the lines of Ri, Ur, Fundin, and Groin. She usually pulled it back and connected it with a braid from the other side, leaving the beads to shine against the side of her head.
She was extremely grateful, and had tearfully given each of them a bead of her own she'd created in the week following. She'd had the time, because that had been the first time the healers had allowed her to change back into her elven form, which was also the first time her father had gotten to see her in it...
He had smiled at her tearfully, then gone off to be drunk for a week. She apparently looked a great deal like her mother had. It had taken both of the Rivendell twins dunking him in the river to talk some sense into him.
She'd been worried and upset, but it had given her time to form and etch the beads. They were a beautiful blue. (She had used a scale that had barely been hanging on).
Still, she was grateful to have her father back at the end of the week. He had held her close, and cried, and then told her he loved her for herself.
/
She smiled, feeling the sun on her scales. In spite of the long and touching farewells, she couldn't feel sorry for leaving. She'd return someday, probably not that far into the future.
The dwarves would be busy themselves in repairing and rebuilding Erebor, and the children would help their father in rebuilding Dale. She didn't know what the elves would be doing, and didn't really care that much. She huffed.
She and Bilbo had traveled as far as Rivendell with her father, stopping only to visit Beorn. He had waited with the others for as long as he could after the battle, but hadn't been able to wait for the month she'd been unconscious. He had been forced to return to his animals, but he'd left an invitation to visit.
She'd been pleased at his thoughtfulness.
She had not been as pleased with her father's, as he made her put up with yet more healer visits as soon as they'd reached the valley. Sure, Lord Elrond might be the best healer in middle earth, so what? She was fine!
She had sulked for days, she was embarrassed to admit. Which was one of the reasons she was so thrilled to finally be leaving.
She turned her head and grinned at Bilbo. He still looked a little ruffled from all of her acrobatics, but smiled reluctantly at her anyway. She huffed, happily this time, and turned her eyes back to the horizon.
There was a faint line of green, the first real glimpse they'd had of the Shire in over a year. They should reach the boundaries by nightfall. Then they'd have to walk. No matter where they went or who they met, she didn't want to give up the simple peace she felt here.
She'd stay a while, help Bilbo get settled. Get caught up on the happenings and gossip. Then it was back to Rivendell to collect her father and visit Mirkwood. Where she went after that...who knew? The sky was the limit, literally.
As she pumped her wings to speed up a bit, her sharp eyes caught a glimpse of movement on the road below her. At the sight of blond hair, she found herself grinning toothily. She might spend a bit more time with Bilbo than she'd thought, if only to make sure a certain prince was appropriately...welcomed to the area.
Doing her best not to giggle, she allowed her wings to fold a bit and fell in a shallow dive. As she looked back at the cursing prince as he did his best to get his mount back under control, she laughed.