A/N: Sorry again for the late update; this time I chose to post a shorter chapter than to make you wait more, as next scenes can be handled separatedly.

Hope you enjoy, and I'd love to hear your comments!

Heart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall
But watching you stand alone
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

One step closer

I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

Time stands still
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave
I will not let anything take away
What's standing in front of me
Every breath
Every hour has come to this

One step closer

I have died every day waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you
For a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

And all along I believed I would find you
Time has brought your heart to me
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more

One step closer
One step closer

(Christina Perri – A Thousand Years)

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap.

The sound of bare feet on the stone floor was steady and fast. The light of the torches reflected in innumerable mirrors and crystals, reminding her of a London lost in a Sherlock Holmes movie. One of the classics, not the modern BBC TV series, of course. But this strange London had no sky, only a high vaulted ceiling, lost hundreds of yards above her head.

Flap flap flap flap flap flap flap.

The sound of wings accompanied her, sometimes further away, as they doubtless led their owner faster than her tiny hairy feet could carry her, sometimes flying back to give her time to reach her feathered guide, as she was not used at all to wander in those mighty halls. The way to Bombur's house had been a hurried chase after her father, and his height gave him an enormous advantage on her, who ran after him not even caring to look around to know her way back.

Thump a thump a thump a thump a thump a thump a thump.

The sound of her heartbeat sounded in her ears like drums played by a giant – suddenly she remembered the stone giants battling in the Misty Mountains, and how he had saved her from sure fall and death, and how she almost lost Bilbo then when he himself slipped from the wet stone ledge – but she could not stop, not now, not when he was so close, not when she had waited for this day for so long. Her heart had to be strong to withstand the anxiety burning in her veins, had to be strong so she would not explode in an overflow of joy when she saw him again.

It was not that long a run, but to her it was eternity until she saw the wide doors that led to the feasting hall and she could hear the clap of hands setting the pace of the current music, the clashes of metal mugs of the ones rejoicing in their beverages; the wards at the door creaked it open and all the sounds became clearer, the crackling of the fire in the hearths that kept the place cosy and warm, shielding it from the cold autumn wind outside, the raspy voices of the bards of two different bands in a song duel, the rumble of conversation all around... She could only complain to herself that being a hobbit had its disadvantages, as simply everybody there was taller than her and it was too much alike to be lost in community barbecue when you are a six-year-old child. Even Rärc had disappeared.

Crap, she had no superpower of knowing where people were, even the ones she loved most; and having come in through a different door than the one she had gone out and yet other one than that she had come in first time didn't help at all. Hell with it, she at least knew where to find her family, as the high table had this name for a reason, duh! And finding them she hoped it would not be that hard to find Bilbo, as he was being expected by everyone in the kingdom just as her when she came through the Mirror Gate – was it really just the day before?

Making her way to the high table was harder than she thought, as the dwarves had a couple of hours more to drink their health whilst she was gone; and the result was similar to the mess she lived with the Company in Lake-Town, only then it was just thirteen dwarves, fourteen is she counted her sister, and now it was... three hundred? She went dizzy. Ellen had mentioned it was only a welcome banquet, the Company, some visitors, the members of the Council of Lords, some warriors of the Guard who were off duty and some citizens of Erebor, and their respective families, of course. Nothing magnificent as your wedding is bound to be, of course, she said. Having led a quite low-profile life in her birth-world, so to speak, she wondered what a magnificent wedding party was bound to be in a Middle-Earth standpoint.

But she would have time enough to think about it in the next two or three weeks, as her wedding would be held along Durin's Day festivities, so the whole of the kingdom would be able to rejoice in the marriage of two members of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. First time it happened she had been far away, back in her world, helping her sister to cope with said Thorin's death and her father to figure out what to do with her aunt's absence, as they had been the harbour of each other since their parents' death and mostly one year later, her mother's. She shook her head, dismissing the sadness she felt for never having met her mother, harping that at least she never had the chance to have any disappointment with her. Would Ruby be proud of her now? Would she cry at her wedding? Would she approve of Bilbo? And if Ruby didn't, would she care?

All these thoughts spin through her mind in a million miles per minute rate, while her eyes gazed all around searching for any known face, or at least to see a raven again; knowing Bilbo had not reached Erebor before her had been a blow, but now, knowing he was there, somewhere, was simply impossible to deal with. She would shout out his name if she had any hope to be heard above the surrounding commotion.

Finally she got near the high table, taking a lift with a bartender's cart so she would not have to walk any further; not that it was a very appropriate means of transportation amongst the dwarves or any other race she knew about, but sightseeing Erebor, feasting, dancing, midwifing and running back to the banquet hall was not really what she deemed appropriate for an ordinary hobbit's day, and not even for an extraordinary one. So it was that being perched on a beverage cart like if she were a special drink herself didn't seem that strange to her. She was tired, her limbs told her so, even if she wanted to ignore them.

"Iris, dear, where have you been? There is someone very special looking for you like a madman right now!"

Iris jumped from the beverage cart and landed ungraciously beside her smiling aunt.

"Where is he? Where is Bilbo?"

"He was here not a minute ago, talking to Kíli, Figwit and Estel; it looks like they are working out a search party to find you, even if I told them it was foolish, you could not be far from here." The elf looked around trying to find some of the others. "By the way, you were…?"

The hobbit lass answered the incomplete question.

"Tending Dahl, her baby is born, it's a girl!"

"A girl? This is wonderful, marvellous news! I had the feeling someone was missing, but with that many people around you never get the chance to think straight."

"I can believe it." Iris looked around, nervous. "But where is Bilbo now?"

"Come here, your aunt is too soft to solve this kind of thing dwarvish style, but then what can we expect from an elf?" Dís took her by the hand and led her to the small stage where the musicians did their job. With not much more than a nod and a wave of her hand, the matriarch made the music stop and borrowed a pair of large cymbals, which she hit full force three times. If the song stopping before it was over made several dwarves to look in the stage direction, the clashing of metal against metal sure made the remaining ones to do the same.

"Now that I have your rapt attention, dear guests, I'd like to announce that my Little Daughter here has lost something and we'd be happy to have your help to find it." Iris felt herself blush in all shades of red, all eyes on her. Discreetness was sure not a virtue Dís made any effort to develop, but then, why should she? "There are more halflings amongst us, who just arrived, you may have noticed; there is one of them, an old friend very dear to me and to the Goblin King's Bane that is awaited for right here at the stage. Has anyone seen Master Bilbo Baggins, the Burglar of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield?"

Iris asked herself how Dís managed to make herself heard in so wide a hall with no help of any kind of amplifier, but it could very well be an effect of the hall's architecture, or maybe the dwarrowdam had voice projection techniques? Distracting her mind from the awkward situation helped her to recompose her natural skin colour, but then she saw the crowd before her step aside like the Red Sea opening for Moses to cross it with his people.

Bilbo heard Dís from the other side of the hall and stopped in his tracks, turning back from his deranged search for Iris and looking in the direction of the stage. His fingers played with the lid of his pocket, tempted to vanish under so many eyes gazing at him, but he knew it would do him no good right then, to give away his burglary tool just for the shame of being the center of all attentions. Better to get used to it, he thought, sure his wedding would be even more crowded. And no matter how crowded it would be, he would made it through the crowd to get to his fiancée, his long awaited for bride, his wife-to-be, his…

Iris.

He dragged his feet from the ground, one step after the other, like they were made of lead; the dwarves all around made way for him, and he could hear whispered words as he passed them by, murmurs of approval and of praise. He was a member of the Company, for them he was a kind of hero. Not that he would ever get used to it, but he could not ignore that maybe it was how she saw...

Bilbo.

That bright smile that lightened all his face and made her feel alive; how many times did she dream of that smile? It didn't matter that it made some wrinkles show at the corner of his eyes, because he was smiling at her. She couldn't stop to think that the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes are the cutest thing, and that smile wrinkles are amazing. He was unable to stop smiling as he came closer to...

Iris.

Fiery hair, fiery spirit, a death dancer with a pair of twin swords in her hands, shining under the sun. That was one of the memories of her that kept him alive since she went away to her birth-world. She was too far away, in the other side of the banquet hall, but there was no mistake. It was her. It was his Iris, his precious…

Bilbo.

There were some wisps of gray in his curly hair, but then, what of it? She intended to see him turn completely gray running after half a dozen fauntlings, if she had her way. Dealing with pregnant women and newborns while studying to be a obstetric practitioner stirred in her the wish to grow a family with him, pushing away the fear she harboured for most of her life in behalf of losing her own mother hours after being born. One could not carry the tragedies of others for life. Not having found a man like him, who was completely enthralled by sight of...

Iris.

Bilbo never considered if there were real irises the colour of her hair, but he could only imagine her in her green gown as the slender stem of the beautiful flower that named her, his flower-maiden, his sweet scented flower-maiden. The memory of her resting on the grass in Beorn's house haunted him, the scent of her skin under the sun was his reason to breath. And there she was, walking to him, all green satin embroidered with silver and green tourmaline. A flower and a jewel at the same time, too precious to be true. He could not imagine what she was thinking right then about…

Bilbo.

The right blend of courage and wisdom, of passion and cautiousness, maturity and foolhardy youth; what more could she dream of in life? A simple soul, Shire-folk, sure, but she could give up her technology based life to live with him, it didn't matter, technology was a comfort, not the meaning of life. Bilbo, on the other hand, meant everything to...

Iris.

They were so close now he could see the sky blue of her eyes, and her smile, her breathtaking smile, and she was all there for him, at last, the same glinting eyes, the same sprinkled freckles that decorated her nose and cheeks just to remind the world nothing was perfect, but even her freckles were perfect for him.

"Bilbo…"

"Iris…"

He reached for her hands and could not ignore her watering eyes as she softly said.

"I will kill you!"

A/N: If you like drama, I'd suggest a shortfic I posted some days ago, just a peek on Fíli's thoughts at the end of the Battle of Five Armies. It is not related to this fic, actually more canon. You can find it here: s/10076955/1/Shouts