A/N: What's this - a late update? I had a bit of a break from writing as there's a lot to process from that last chapter. And real life caught up with me for a while.

Thank you so much to those of you who have left reviews recently and a big welcome to new readers/followers! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this fic! We have a few more chapters to go before Part 1 of this series is finished. Many thanks to the Dwarrow Scholar for their extensive research into dwarrow culture, it's been helpful when figuring out how to deal with Thorin's burial.

*content warning* angst/hurt/grief and the ways in which people deal with those things.

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Of Broken Hearts

When the battle finally faded, whatever remained of Azog's army disbanded back into the shadows. At first, the surviving people of Dale were still on edge and thought the enemy might return with reinforcements, but when three days passed and no such thing happened they began to recover. It didn't take long before news of Thorin's death reached Bard, as well as Brenna and they both cried. Not only for the loss of their friend but for Maggie, who had lost both a lover and a father to her child. It was a pain Bard knew all too well and he couldn't bare the thought of someone as young as Maggie experiencing it too. The bowman knew that the grief would eventually become easier but it would never truly go away. Every time he looked at his children, Bard saw his wife, but they gave him strength to continue and brought him so much joy. Perhaps, he hoped, in time Maggie would find the same strength in her unborn son.

Three days after the battle's end, a raven from Erebor found its way to Bard. In the grasp of its talon, the black bird carried a piece of parchment. It was a letter from Bilbo Baggins, which surprised Bard because he thought that the hafling would have returned to his home in the Shire by now. Maybe, just as Bard did, Bilbo felt duty bound to stay behind. As Bard read the contents of the letter, an uneasy feeling formed in the pit of his gut.

My Dear Master Bard,

First, I must offer my sincere apologies for troubling you in such busy times. The people of Dale are blessed to have found in you a great leader. No doubt news of Thorin's passing must have reached you by now and I apologise that we were not the ones to tell you. These past three days have been difficult for everyone, as I'm sure you understand.

Grief has taken different forms within these halls and while most of the company are coping, others are not. Fili has announced that he wishes to not be crowned king. I think he feels guilt and that he should not take his uncle's place even though it is rightfully his. Kili spends most days wandering the depths of Erebor and were it not for Tauriel's watchful eye, I am not certain he would find his way back to us.

Riley has been struggling to process the events of the battle and has taken to drink. Mostly in the evenings, when he thinks nobody is watching. What troubles me the most, however, is Maggie's reaction to Thorin's death. Since that day on Ravenhill, after Dwalin carried her back to Erebor, Maggie has not spoken to anyone.

She does not leave her room and she will only eat because if she doesn't, the baby will suffer. She only sleeps at night because Oin has given her an herbal sedative.

Maggie will not speak with her brother, myself, Gandalf or even Lord Elrond. She does not even cry.

It troubles me to tell you that I fear she will only get worse.

I know it is not my place to say so and I hope you will forgive me, but as you have suffered similar loss, perhaps she will listen to you? You have already sacrificed so much to help us and I would not place blame on you, should your choice be to turn away. Truthfully, I am frightened and I do not know who else to turn to.

Your friend,

Mr Bilbo Baggins of the Shire

Temporarily residing Under the Mountain

It didn't take Bard long to saddle his horse and after explaining to Brenna and his children that he would be gone for a few days, he set off for Erebor. The battlefield had taken three days to be cleared of the bodies and there were still familiar faces staring empty into the sky. Bard's men, though he hated referring to them as his, had fought bravely and like so many they had died with honor. Even so, the scent of death lingered in the air and would always serve as a reminder of the awful events that had taken place there. Bard had never wanted to be a leader nor did he see himself as one, yet the people had turned to him for guidance. He found it strangely easy to settle into his new role and took pride in helping people restore Dale to its former grandeur. He knew it would take a long time to rebuild the city and even longer for the people to recover. That's why, on that cold November night, he felt guilty for setting off to the mountain.

At first, Bard was greeted with some skepticism by Dain who had queried his intent, but then by approval from Balin, he'd been allowed to enter. Throughout his childhood, Bard had grown up hearing stories of Erebor and the great kingdom within its walls. His father and grandfather before him had spoken of it's great halls, vast corridors. Its enormous forges and mines that were responsible for the famous wealth. Still, nothing could prepare him for the sight before him as he walked down the winding stone steps.

"Bard!"

Following the familiar voice, the sound of small footsteps reached him and as Bard found himself in what he assumed was the King's Hall, Bilbo Baggins appeared in the doorway. Bilbo's face displayed an expression of both relief and sadness. Then, to Bard's surprise, the hobbit greeted him with a friendly embrace. From what Bard knew of Shirefolk and from observing Bilbo, hobbits were not tactile folk. Perhaps being in the presence of dwarves for so long had changed Bilbo in more ways than one.

"I'm so glad you're here, thank you for coming." Bilbo said and released a sigh as he straightened his waistcoat and composed himself.

"How is she?" Bard asked

Bilbo's face fell. "It's been days. Maggie won't leave the room. She won't speak with anyone. She barely eats. The only reason why she is sleeping at all is because Oin is drugging her."

The desperation in Bilbo's voice rang clear and the dark circles under his eyes showed his exhaustion. As they walked down the corridors, Bard's eyes took in the sights of the mountain. The first thing that struck was quiet it was. Dain and his men had remained in Erebor and Bard would have thought that with other dwarves living there, it would feel more alive. Yet, it was quiet. Every now and again they heard voices speaking in Khuzdul but Bard assumed they were Dain's men as he didn't recognise any of them. Bilbo Baggins, he thought, seemed different since their last meeting. He knew war changed people and there was no doubt in his mind that it had changed the hobbit. His first impression of Bilbo was that he was a skittish type. Someone who didn't necessarily liked strangers or not being able to do things in the way that he preferred. The way he interacted with the Company, as well as Maggie and Riley, made it clear that while some of those preconceptions were true. In truth howver, Bard had come to realise Bilbo was a fiercly loyal friend and would protect those he cared about with his life, if he had to. The hobbit that walked next to him in that moment, was one that carried much grief. Not just for Thorin Oakenshield but for his friends who suffered with him.

"How are you?" Bard asked.

Bilbo pondered the question for some time and and exhaled a fatigued breath. He opened his mouth in an attempt to form the words to explain his feelings but then closed it again. In earnest, Bilbo had barely had time to process his own thoughts. He had spent much of the past few days trying to be strong for the dwarves, for Maggie and for Riley. This was the first time anyone had asked Bilbo how he was doing and he didn't even have an answer. A part of him wanted to be strong for the others and he felt guilty because despite his efforts, Thorin couldn't be saved. Ever since Riley told him about the truth behind the stories written down in their would, he also felt guilty because he'd known what was coming and despite this knowledge, he wasn't able to help. Then there was the part of Bilbo that didn't want to feel the grief. Hobbits were a stoic people and were told since childhood that showing too much emotion was less than respectable. Bagginses were a proud family and respected throughout the Shire, despite their Took relatives. Yet, Bilbo still felt the grief and sadness stirring within him, like a cauldron. He knew it would catch up with him eventually but if the others weren't able to, he had to be strong for them.

"It will be alright, Bilbo." Bard assured him, when no reply came. "Everyone deals with grief differently. Sometimes it just takes a while to recover from the shock."

"I know." Bilbo said "I think the others will be fine in their own time but Maggie...it's not the same for her."

For a brief moment, Bilbo felt himself choking up but managed to hold back the tears. Every time he closed his eyes, he could hear Maggie's distraught scream as the reality of Thorin's death dawned on them.

"Will there be a funeral?" Bard asked. He knew little of Dwarrow culture, but given that Thorin had been a king, he expected that there would be some sort of rite held.

"Four days from now." Bilbo replied. "According to Balin, dwarves grieve for seven days before the burial, which is apparently a very private affair."

Bard raised an eyebrow. "Even for kings?"

"Yes." Bilbo nodded "Only immediate kin are allowed in the burial chamber, but Balin said that given the circumstances, both you and I are expected to attend. As well as Riley and of course Maggie."

Bard hadn't yet interacted with Riley but knew from how both Bilbo and Maggie spoke of him, he was a man of admirable character. They walked on for a bit in silence, Bard noticed how Bilbo tucked his hands into his waistcoat pocket, fiddling with something inside and seemed lost in thought. Eventually they took a left turn into another vast and wide corridor. They stopped in front of a giant stone door, engraved with intricate filigree and the doorknobs were made of brass.

"This was Th...is Maggie's chambers." Bilbo gestured towards the door.

"Dain gave up the king's bedroom for her?" Bard asked, "He does not seem the type to take kindly to humans."

"He's not." Bilbo said "But he didn't really have much choice in the matter. I'll be in the kitchens, should you need anything."

Bard only nodded and Bilbo let out a sigh before he turned and left Bard alone in the corridor. He suddenly became aware of how small he felt within the walls of the mountain, no doubt haunted by kings of old. The bowman took a moment to compose himself before he raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Maggie felt as though she stood on the brink of something she did not understand. The weight of everything seemed to press down on her shoulders and she struggled to take even a single step forward. It was too much. All of it. And somehow, she kept moving. Yet every step cost her and every day since Ravenhills, the darkness grew stronger; the pain grew sharper. She wasn't able to cry, even if she wanted to. It was a feeling Maggie had never experienced before. The sadness was still there, but it wasn't just raw anymore – now it was also an empty sorrow - the kind she didn't think would ever lift. It wasn't the first time Maggie had experienced grief before, but the loss of a lover was entirely different to the loss of a parent. She heard the knock on the door but couldn't find the strength in her to acknowledge the person on the other side. A few seconds later, the metallic screech of the door, announced her company before she looked up.

"It's cozy in here." Bard said

Bard's voice was one Maggie hadn't expected. Usually, Oin was the one who walked in to make sure she ate. If it wasn't for the baby, Maggie would probably ignore his words too. She assumed perhaps one of the others had sent for Bard, probably either Balin or Bilbo. She often heard them talk at night outside the bedroom to try and come up with some way of reaching her, but they didn't understand. Thorin's death was on her and she couldn't bring herself to look at any of them, not even Riley. Maggie had had so many opportunities to warn Thorin about his fate, but she'd been too selfish and too caught up in the moment of romance. She had believed, rather foolishly, that their love for each was enough to change the course of his destiny. Instead, it had only caused more pain. Those first twenty-four hours after his death had been the worst part of it all. Riley had stayed with her that night but she hadn't been able to find the strength to form words to explain how she felt.

After the initial shock had faded, Maggie felt anger. She knew Riley had saved Fili and Kili, but not Thorin. The two princes of course, had tried speaking with her, despite dealing with their own sadness but she couldn't face them. After that, Balin had kept her company for a while. He didn't ask her any questions or try to get her to open up, he had done the talking. When neither Bilbo nor Balin had any success, they left her alone for a day, until Lord Elrond had knocked on the door. That was the second time Maggie cried and the elf-lord had held her in silence until she fell asleep from exhaustion. Since then, Maggie hadn't found the strength to leave the room, let alone get out of bed. She ignored anyone who called her name and lay on the mattress, listening to the flames of the fire.

Bard sat down on the bed, the weight of his body forming a shape in the mattress. Maggie's back was turned against him, but he didn't mind.

"My wife's name was Frida." Bard began. "I first knew her when we were children. My father was a blacksmith, who was often visited by Frida's father. As young children, we were inseparable and she would often get me into trouble. Some years later when she was a young woman and I was a young man, we fell in love. At first, her father hesitated when I brought up the idea of marrying her. Whilst he knew my love for Frida was genuine, our family was never a wealthy one and he wanted assurance that his daughter would be looked after. Eventually, he conceded and we were married in the summer."

There was silence for a brief moment as Bard paused. It was a strange thing, to recall memories from so long ago.

"The day Sigrid was born was the happiest day of my life." Bard remembered. "Even as a baby, she looked like her mother. Receiving the blessing of fatherhood once is a gift, but three times is nothing short of a miracle. Tilda's birth came with complications though, and that winter was the harshest winter we had seen in many years. In the weeks before Tilda's birth, Frida caught a sickness and no matter how much the healer tried, she was not getting better. The labour itself was a difficult and painful experience. Tilda was born a healthy baby but Frida did not make it through the night."

Bard sighed, these were memories he hadn't revisited for a very long time and they brought back feelings which he had learned to cope with but that were still difficult. It was extremely rare that he talked about his wife, barely even to his children and perhaps that was something that needed to change.

"For a long time, I was so grief-struck and angry. I was angry with the world, I was angry with myself and I was angry with Tilda. I thought it was unfair that she should survive while her mother died. Sigrid and Bain were both too young to clearly remember it, but Brenna had to care for them for some time. I was too blindsided by rage and sorrow to manage being a father and I took it out on my children. Eventually, Brenna told me one night, that Sigrid had asked if I hated them and somehow, that's when I knew I had to snap out of it. I hadn't just lost the love of my life, my children had lost their mother and they were too young to understand why."

Bard shifted slightly and gently placed a hand on Maggie's back. "Maggie, we've not long known each other but I know the pain you feel all too well. Every time you close your eyes you see them. You remember the last moments you shared with extreme clarity and everything you wish you could take back echoes at the back of your mind. Sometimes, when it becomes almost unbearable and you wish for the earth to swallow you, a part of you wonders what the point is. Why are we put on this world if only to suffer through such heartache and pain when nobody else understands it. But, the blessing of parenthood is that children make you see things clearly. I had to be strong for them and If it weren't for them, I have no doubt that I would not be alive. Just like I know that you want to be strong for your son, even though right now, everything is hurting."

Bard got off the bed and decided that perhaps leaving Maggie to consider his words was the best course of action, but as he turned towards the door, Maggie spoke.

"What if I can't be strong?" she asked, her voice was quieter than Bard had ever heard it. "I keep thinking..I should have…"

The bowman sat down again, feeling a heavy weight on his own heart. He wasn't just trying to empathise with Maggie, but he had been where she was now. It meant the love she'd felt for Thorin was real. When the words would not come, the tears did and for the third time since Ravenhills, Maggie cried. Except this time, she cried because she accepted the truth: Thorin Oakenshield was dead and he was never coming back. He had left Middle-Earth, yet she was still there.

If you'd have been wandering down the cold hallways of Erebor that night, it would have come as no surprise to find Riley Spencer slouching on the floor of the pantry, with an alcoholic beverage in his hand. The surprise was in regards to his company that evening. Balin was a dwarf whose days of drunken escapades was far in his youth. Even when the rest of the Company indulged in types of alcohol whenever an opportunity presented itself, Balin prefered to stay sober and keep a watchful eye. Besides, someone had to be the one to remind others of their actions. On that November evening though, Balin had made an exception to his rule and as the hours passed, he began to feel more inebriated than he was used to these days.

"Gotta say Master Balin," Riley slurred as he poured more brandy into the cups "You're not a...half-bad drinking buddy."

A hiccup escaped his mouth as he stretched out his legs. Riley was tired but could not find it in him to sleep. He knew that once he closed his eyes he would see it all over again. The sound of swords clashing, bodies falling to the ground and the smell of death. If he closed his eyes, he'd hear his sister's distraught crying over Thorin's dead body. It was a sound he never wished to experience again and he still felt it in his core. No. If it meant that Riley could numb the pain with alcohol, then that's what she would do. He knew that Maggie was angry with him. After all, he'd known Thorin was meant to die and had chosen not to tell her. Instead, he'd saved Fili and Kili who had then been forced to watch their uncle die in front of them. Riley knew he was the cause of their pain and he wasn't sure he could ever forgive himself for that. Bilbo had tried talking to him of course, but it resulted in an argument and the two hadn't spoken much sense. It was, Riley figured, probably for the better.

"What troubles you, laddie?" Balin asked as he inhaled the tobacco from his pipe and exhaled a rather excessive ring of smoke.

"What's the point, Master Balin?" Riley asked "Why would the Valar send us here and put us through all of this...if we weren't able to change everything? If anything, I feel like we've...I've made things worse. Love is supposed to be the greatest force of good in this or any world. But it's caused nothing but pain and heartache for everyone. So, what's the damn point?"

Riley felt the anger growing within him again. If he could speak to the Valar, he would have a thing or two to tell them. Not to mention there was still the matter of their return to earth, which Riley had a feeling wouldn't happen. He knew they had to stay in Middle-Earth but he couldn't understand why. From his understanding, they were supposed to make sure the line of Durin continued, because it would somehow adjust the course of fate in the allies favour and help Estel follow the path he is meant to. If that was the case, then Riley failed to understand why Thorin also had to die?

"Some things we simply cannot understand." Balin replied "It's unfair but we find ways to cope. We must if we wish to keep living. Have you and Bilbo spoken yet?"

"No." Riley scoffed. "I'm surprised he's still here after everything."

Balin raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Isn't it..obvious?" Riley asked between his hiccups. "Bilbo has fulfilled his part of the contract and now he is going back to the Shire. He has to, it's what he's supposed to. He has a life there, in Bag End. He was never supposed to stay here."

"Haven't you learned by now, Master Riley, that hobbits rarely do what's expected of them? Especially not our Master Baggins. You should really-"

Balin was cut off by familiar, angry voice that came from the doorway.

"Look at the state of you two! Have you no shame?" Tauriel yelled.

Riley had always thought of elves as intimidating by nature, but hearing Tauriel so angrys sent a shiver of fear down his spine. It was rare that elf-maiden joined them, unless Kili was there. Kili had hardly been seen since their return to Erebor, but sometimes at night, Riley heard his sobs echoe in the darkness.

Tauriel turned to Riley and as he looked up at her, he saw the fire in her eyes. "You need to sober up and sort yourself out, because your sister needs you. What she is going through, she cannot do alone. She needs her brother."

She turned to Balin. "And you need to be there for your kin. Kili is not coping well and Fili is consumed by anger. You are their elder now! They will turn to you for counsel and guidance. For protection.

Balin got back up on his feet and put away the cup of brandy. Tauriel's anger was understandable, she loved Kili and watching him mourn their uncle's death must be hard on her too. Death was something that elves never really had to deal with and Tauriel was still a young elf.

"Your heart is in the right place, but elves rarely have to suffer grief, my dear." Balin said. It amazed Riley how sober he sounded. "But you are right, perhaps I should go and see to Fili and Kili."

Tauriel clenched her fist but then relaxed as she realised Balin was right. Tauriel had never experienced grief but from what she knew of it, they needed to stay together if they were to overcome it, not stray further apart.

Bilbo knew that he had no obligation to stay in Erebor. He had fulfilled his part of the quest and if he had been a more sensible hobbit, he would be on his way back to the Shire by now, just like Gandalf had planned. Ye there he was, standing in one of the libraries of Erebor, browsing a shelf with books. Some of them were books on dwarrow history and culture, while others were stories, maps and records. Most of them were written in Khuzdul, which of course Bilbo couldn't understand. He'd picked up a word here or there throughout his travels with the Company, most of them curses and insults. Some of them were pet names used between kin. As much as dwarves had a reputation of being tough, greedy and unforgiving to those not of their own, they were incredibly affectionate and loving

"Are you searching for anything in particular?" came Lord Elrond's voice from the doorway.

Dain hadn't been too pleased about allowing Tauriel into Erebor after the battle, not to mention there was already Maggie and Riley. Allowing Lord Elrond into the mountain had truly tested his patience but Bilbo, Dwalin and Bofur had convinced them that Elrond too was a friend. Just like Bilbo, Elrond didn't really have any obligation to stay, but he did so anyway. The aftermath of battle was more difficult to deal with than the actual battle itself. Bilbo knew that Lord Elrond had lived through several wars and knew how grief affected those who survived. Hobbits seldom experienced grief unless someone died of old age. Even then, funerals were not sad events, they were big parties with ale and music. They served as a chance to remember the fond memories, instead of mourning and grieving.

"Just something to pass the time with." Bilbo said. "If I just sit here in silence, I'll lose my mind. If I haven't done that already." e

Bilbo stopped for a moment and reached inside his waistcoat pocket. The ring was still there, as it had always been since he found it in Gollum's cave. Every now and again he liked to feel it, just to make sure. It also brought him a sense of calm and comfort, like nothing could harm him if it was on his person. Bilbo hadn't put on the ring since that day on Ravenhills and he'd promised himself he never would again. The urge to become invisible and slip away from all the heartache and sadness grew stronger every day and Bilbo knew that if he gave in, he couldn't promise he'd take it off. As he browsed the dusty ash bookshelves, he rested his hands on the cover of a leatherbound book and pulled it out. The cover read "Dwarrow Culture: A Brief Insight".

"This'll do." he said and perched on a chair.

In the corner of his eye, Bilbo saw Lord Elrond walk into the room and he did his best to avoid the elf-lord's glance. He almost succeeded until he saw Lord Elrond in front of him.

"It is alright to feel, Bilbo." said Elrond "To feel hurt, pain and anger. There is no shame in that and it will help you heal."

"What makes you think I'm angry?" Bilbo asked

"For one thing, I heard your argument with Riley. He will come around, he just needs time. Being an older sibling is a lot of responsibility."

Bilbo realised that Elrond was right. He was angry and a part of him wished that Riley hadn't told him the truth about what was supposed to happen. He was also angry that Riley wasn't letting Bilbo help him and turned to drinking instead. It seemed like he was similar to his sister in that sense; they'd rather push people away when hurting instead of letting anyone in. There was a part of Bilbo that was even angry with Gandalf for convincing him to join the quest in the first place. If he hadn't, he would still be sitting in his comfortable hobbit hole back in the Shire, not worrying about the wars of others and things that had no impact on his life. Now that he knew what the world was actually like, Bilbo would never be able to unsee it. Bilbo was even angry with Thorin for not letting them help him when was dying. Anger was an emotion Bilbo wasn't all too familiar. The closest thing he'd come to anger was whenever Lobelia-Sackville Baggins made a ruckus about how unfair it was that Bilbo had Bag End. That and the first night the dwarves had literally come tumbling in through his door.

"I know." Bilbo sighed "I do know that, but it's difficult. I just wish they would trust me."

"We do trust you."

Bilbo froze at the sound of Maggie's voice and even Lord Elrond seemed surprised. He turned around and saw her standing in the doorway to the library, with Bard next to her. The bowman greeted Bilbo with a nod and the hobbit could only assume that somehow, he'd gotten through to her. Maggie looked tired though and Bilbo could see the dark rings under her eyes and their redness showed that she had been crying. Carefully, she tread into the library and Bilbo noticed for the first time that a small hint of the pregnancy was showing. They'd all been worried that her lack of response to anything would cause complications but, thankfully, Oin had been able to prevent that.

"I know you're probably disappointed in me for how I've been but...Bilbo, you're my friend." Maggie said, "You've saved my life more than once, you've been there for me when I needed someone and you've even managed to win over my stubborn brother. Of course I trust you and I'm sorry I made you think anything else. You're right to be angry. It's just…"

Bilbo heard Maggie's voice break as she tried to hold back the tears and he hurried up to her.

"No, no, no." he said "I'm not angry, Maggie. Certainly not at you. Don't even think like that. Hobbits just aren't very good at dealing with emotions, but I'll learn."

Maggie nodded and dried away her tears. She inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before she looked up again.

"If you want to talk to my brother, I heard Tauriel yelling in the kitchen." Maggie said. "Could I, umm...have a moment with Lord Elrond?"

"Of course.."

Bilbo left the kitchen in the company of bard, and left Maggie alone with Lord Elrond. It would take a while, Bilbo thought, but he knew that things would be alright.

They had to be.

To be continued…

It's not a super interesting chapter but I wanted to try and explore how they all deal with grief. Next chapter we'll explore how Fili, Kili and Dwalin are coping. Did you like it? Let me know what you think!