A/N: Crazy to think that after four years (and some change), this story is finally finished. It's been a crazy ride writing this, and I've appreciated all my readers so much for taking the time to follow along. I hope I've done this ending justice, and I look forward to reading everyone's final thoughts on my creation! Enjoy!
EPILOGUE
Quin tilted her head, studying the portrait in front of her with a well-trained eye. She followed the brush strokes, the subtle mixing of paint, and the use of light on the canvas, caressing each minute detail with the rough pad of her finger. She was so deep in thought that she almost didn't notice the presence coming to stand behind her. The corner of her mouth lifted as the figure hugged her close to his body, his beard scratching at her skin as his chin came to rest on her exposed shoulder.
"Quite the likeness, is it not?" A deep voice rumbled in her ear, making her shiver despite herself. She smiled, tilting her head the other way as she pretended to study the painting some more.
"I don't know. There's something about it that's not quite right." She said, playfully tapping her chin with her finger.
"Is that so?" Thorin asked, chuckling. "Care to enlighten me?"
She turned in his arms, gazing at the dwarf she loved with all her being. "It's the devious sparkle in your eye and the smirk on your face, Thorin Oakenshield. The artist made your expression far too regal."
He laughed, spinning her around again to look at painting. "And I'd say yours looks positively charming, wife. Far less prickly an expression compared to the real image."
She turned to smack him playfully on the shoulder, but before she made contact he had grasped her forearm and used it to pin her to the wall, his body becoming flush against hers. Their breaths mingled as they stared at one another, Thorin's mouth curling into a smile.
"Attempt to strike me again and you will see just how devious I can be."
Quin lifted an eyebrow. "Is that a promise?"
Their lips met in a clash of teeth and a desperation that hadn't seemed to fade at all in the three months since the Battle of the Five Armies, as the war was named soon after its end. Thorin's lips fell to her neck and he suckled there, his stubble scraping against her skin as he moved his attentions to her collarbone.
"Thorin, we can't," she groaned. "We'll be late." She was half-hoping her reminder wouldn't sway him in the least. But he paused and sighed a hot breath on her neck before slowly pulling away. His eyes were apologetic.
"You're right, my love. Today is Kili's day, not ours." His eyes twinkled for a moment and he grinned. "Though I can't promise I'll be able to hold myself back tonight after the party is over."
She rolled her eyes, though a smile crept onto her face. "That's only assuming the festivities will be over before dawn, which is highly doubtful. When was the last time the Erebor truly gained a new King?" He opened his mouth to protest, but she placed a finger on his lips with a laugh. "Yes, I know you technically were King for these past few months. But to be fair, your subjects have been limited to the company and to Lord Dáin's army since the rest of your kin only arrived back to the Mountain from Ered Luin four days ago." She paused, a mischievous smile appearing on her face. "Plus, there was much less fanfare when you were King, on account of your mad obsession with the Arkenstone and what not." She said, and he pinched her side in response, chuckling lowly.
"Yes, well," he began, pausing to gaze back at the royal portrait that hung in the hallway leading to their bedroom. It had been commissioned by his kin in the weeks that followed the end of the battle, amidst the long process of rebuilding both Erebor and Dale. Thorin had insisted Quin be included in the painting as well, no matter how much she protested. In the end, she'd relented, only on the condition that they forego all the royal finery that was traditional to wear when sitting for a royal portrait. Instead, she wore her cloak, her best leathers, and her necklace from her mother, the red leaf a reminder of the hardships she's endured. Thorin was posed in a simple, deep blue tunic, in remembrance of the one she favorited, the original having been lost when it was still on her body while she was engulfed in flames.
"Not that we wouldn't have made a fine King and Queen, but I believe this is for the best." Thorin finally said, a smile gracing his fine features. He looked at Quin. "For our people."
Quin nodded, her eyes shining at the reminder. His people were her people now. She gave him a final soft kiss before taking a deep breath.
"I believe I'm ready. How do I look?" She asked, stepping back so he could assess her, hoping that she didn't look as flustered and heated as she still felt. Thorin raked his gaze over her dress, the exact dress she wore to Elrond's dinner in Rivendell, which had been a belated wedding gift from Lia. She had paired the dress with delicate silver earrings, along with a matching circlet that was woven into her elaborate braids and rested on her forehead.
Thorin's eyes were molten when they met hers, and Quin felt her knees go a little weak. But instead of pouncing on her as she thought he might, he simply nodded and smiled.
"You look finer than every jewel in this Mountain."
She grinned, looking over his emerald tunic and shining gold crown that rested atop his head, which would soon be passed over to Fili. "You don't look too bad yourself."
He huffed a laugh at her lackluster compliment and held out his right arm, which she took immediately. He took a moment to kiss the ring on her left hand, a small opal surrounded by a decorative filigree of gold and diamonds; a ring he had presented to her the day after the battle was done and one he finally slid onto her finger at their wedding a month after. "Let us go, my Queen."
Together, they strode down the hallway, towards the ever-growing sounds of life, the noise having had multiplied exponentially as more and more dwarves arrived to make their true home in the Mountain, which was considered Lonely no longer.
After some minutes, they came upon a back entrance to the ballroom, which had once been an auction hall when King Thrór still ruled, a place where greed and gluttony was cast upon the people. After the fight with Smaug, when the floor had been submerged in pure gold, Thorin had decided it should become a room of celebration instead. He had later told Quin that the room was where he finally awoke from his dragon sickness, and that made it all the more special to the both of them. And so it was transformed into a dwelling of laughter, where friends and loved ones danced upon the gold instead of hoarding it.
They could hear the muffled chatter of the guests inside, and Quin grew more excited the closer they came. The guards on either side of the door stood at attention and nodded at both of them as they approached. Currently, Thorin's soldiers consisted of a handful of good-hearted volunteers from both the incoming dwarves from Ered Luin and from Lord Dain's own people. Though Quin knew that both her and Thorin were perhaps the last people who needed protection in Erebor, given most people respected them so much they could hardly get through an hour without being hailed the "heroes who conquered death" by passersby, the thought didn't even cross their minds to deny the adamant dwarves the honor of serving the throne.
The guards opened the double doors with ease, and Quin gave Thorin a bright smile as they strode through them into the brightly lit hall. The crowd's noise died down the moment the pair entered, and they stepped up onto the dais at the forefront of the room, both coming to stand on either side of the single, enormous throne that was hewn from the rock of the Mountain itself. When the room grew silent, Thorin stepped forward, his face the perfect picture of a kind ruler.
"People of Erebor, of Laketown, of Mirkwood, and further." He began, his voice echoing like a loud hum over the people gathered. "Dwarf, Elf, Man, and Hobbit alike." He smiled, looking over the congregation. "Today we are not separated by race, by land, or by creed. Today we come together as one people, gathered here to celebrate our victory over the Orc armies, and to declare a new King Under the Mountain!"
With his declaration, loud applause broke out. Thorin grinned and raised a hand, and everyone politely became quiet once again.
"Though we may have had differences in the past, and grievances that I myself have not yet finished recompensing, I am more than indebted that, in the end, you not only came to the aid of my kin in battle but stayed after the fighting was done in order to help restore Erebor to its former glory." He paused as more applause took place, then continued. "It is a debt I fear I may not be able to repay in this lifetime, but I make the promise this day that I will continue to try and do so until my last breath. My actual last breath, that is." At his joke about his abrupt resurrection, a handful of the crowd burst into laughter, especially the dwarves.
Thorin turned to Quin and held out a hand, and she came forward to grasp it tightly in her own, her smile shining brightly.
"It has been our honor to serve as the King and Queen of Erebor these past months, but we believe it time for us to rest, and for another to continue the line of dwarven royalty in our stead." She announced, then kissed his hand and stood tall over the crowd. "Kili, son of Dís, step forward."
At the summons, from a door to their left, Kili strode forward, looking finer than Quin had ever seen him. His skin was scrubbed clean of any dirt, his blond hair braided back, and his beard intricately and neatly laid arranged on his chest. He wore a lovely deep red garment with golden accents, and his boots shone from being freshly polished. Fili smiled widely when he drew near the couple and came to kneel before them both on one knee, respectfully bowing his head to his King and Queen.
"Fili. My dear nephew," Thorin began. "Do you swear full allegiance to the kingdom of Erebor?"
"I swear it." Kili answered immediately.
"And do you swear to not only serve the crown, but its entire people, to the end of your days as King?"
"I swear it."
"Do you swear to be benevolent, generous, fierce, and loyal above all else?" These vows were created by Thorin himself, who believed that the vows of Erebor's King required a bit more specificity as to the character of its ruler. He hoped these new vows would help prevent the mistakes of future rulers in becoming as his grandfather was.
"I swear it!" Kili shouted voraciously, and some of the other dwarves roared in agreement, pounding their fists on the tables and against their chests.
"And do you swear to uphold all the laws and customs of your kin, as set forth by our ancestors long ago when this kingdom was first created?"
"I swear it."
Thorin smiled. "Then by my authority as King of Erebor, I hereby relinquish my right to the throne and bestow it upon you, Kili." With that, Kili stood and approached the throne before turning and sitting, his back ramrod straight as he looked over his new subjects. Next to him, Thorin kneeled, and Quin took that as her cue to stand in front of him. She winked at him before delicately removing the crown from his head and stepping over to stand before Kili. She placed it on his head, glowing with pride at her nephew-in-law, who had always felt as a brother to her, as he suddenly became King Under the Mountain.
She moved to his left then while Thorin stood and outstretched his arms. "I now present to you: Fili, King of Erebor!"
A deafening roar filled the hall as everyone cheered for the new King, all eyes on the grinning Kili as he bowed his head reverently to his new title. Then Kili raised a hand, and all fell silent immediately.
"My kin, friends new and old, and all other guests gathered here, I thank you for your presence here tonight, and can only hope I will live up to the expectations of my people. Now, we celebrate! Drinks all around!"
Everyone applauded once again, and then the alcohol was brought out, being served left and right. Thorin had warned her about the often rambunctious dwarven customs during celebrations like this, but what Quin had imagined was not to this scale. Dwarves and Elves and Men alike were chugging entire pitchers of beer as fast as they could, sloshing it all over the floor, which was quickly become slick and sticky. Kili was right among the fray, already a beloved ruler among his kin, toasting his tankard with the rest of them.
Thorin and Quin soon joined the party, though Quin wasn't as willing to chug her ale, instead content to taking regular sips of the dark liquid. She wasn't too keen on ending the night with her head in the latrine. The couple made their way through the large number of guests that were present, mingling heartily with all races alike.
Quin saw Kili and Fili talking to their mother Dís, and next to Kili stood Tauriel, smiling brightly. The two had officially become a couple after the war was over, and Tauriel stayed in Erebor, since she was no longer welcome in Mirkwood. Quin watched closely as Kili spoke softly to his mother, returning the stone he had safeguarded for so long, and brought Tauriel forward to meet her. Tauriel spoke enthusiastically, then presented her left hand, on which sat a beautiful emerald ring. Quin watched as Dís immediately burst into happy tears, embraced the elf and both her sons fiercely, causing the latter both to blush bright red, making everyone around them laugh. Kili and Tauriel had announced their engagement to Thorin and Quin first about a month prior, at which Thorin proudly gave his blessing.
Thorin had introduced Quin to his sister the day Dís had arrived, and the two had taken to each other immediately, going off to roam Erebor's halls for hours while they talked about Thorin's childhood and the memories they both shared with him. Dís had a much more abrasive disposition than Thorin, which was incredibly refreshing to Quin. She was frank and spoke her mind without fear, leaving no room for awkward inconsistencies in their conversations. The woman also had the nimblest fingers Quin had ever seen on a dwarf and was able to produce incredible pieces of jewelry in no time at all. Upon seeing her work, Quin had immediately asked if Dís would consent to being her royal jeweler, with pay of course, and the dwarf had accepted with a huge grin and a bone-crushing hug. The jewels Quin wore that night were some of Dís's creations.
Out of the corner of her eye, Quin saw a flash of blond hair, and she turned expecting and hoping to see Legolas, but was instead greeted by the sight of Thranduil approaching her, two of his elven guards flanking him, both fully outfitted in armor and weapons. Quin lifted a brow at that, given that the dwarven and elven relations were nearly restored. After the battle, Thorin had taken some convincing to finally return Thranduil's elven heirlooms to him, but had eventually relented, and in return Thranduil provided resources and assistance on the rebuilding of the dwarven kingdom, as well as Dale and Laketown. But it seemed only time could heal the two races' aversions for one another, for Thranduil's guards were constantly shifting their eyes to the dwarves around them in clear distrust.
Quin gave Thranduil a polite smile and a small elven bow in respect, her hand placed open over her heart. Thranduil did the same in return.
"I believe congratulations are in order for your betrothal, my dear, to your beloved dwarf," he began, his slightly mocking not escaping Quin's notice. He nodded at the ring on her left hand. No longer able to feel any sense of embarrassment about her love for Thorin, Quin easily brushed off his attempt to get under her skin, instead raising her chin defiantly.
"Thank you, King Thranduil. I'm sorry you weren't invited to the wedding, but there was the slight problem that I still find you to be a selfish, egotistical beast, even despite your obligatory generosity to my people."
He chuckled lowly at her insult. "I see. Well, regardless of your obvious distaste for me, I admit I myself missed your blunt attitude."
She simply huffed a laugh before taking another drink from her cup, the burning sensation in her throat fueling her cold disposition. "Your felicitations duly noted, is that all? I have many more guests I'd rather be speaking to."
He turned his head slightly and nodded to the guard on his right, who reached into a small bag attached to his belt, bringing out a long, small silver box. Thranduil took the box from him and held it up to Quin.
"Actually, I came over to present these to you, as a gift."
With her curiosity overpowering her suspicion, Quin took the box and opened it, a slight gasp involuntarily leaving her as she viewed the contents. Inside were a pair of silver earrings, each one consisting of multiple strands of different lengths containing what must have been hundreds of minuscule stones that Quin could hardly tell apart, all of them catching the light in the most magnificent ways even inside its bright red cushion. She gently picked up one and watched it sway, the stones reflecting the light of the torches and giving them a glow. They were obviously from his collection of jewels Thorin had returned to him, an Elven marvel with stones composed of pure starlight.
"A gift, from my kingdom to you, for your sacrifice in the Battle of the Five armies."
Quin looked up at him, and for the first time, saw nothing sarcastic in his eyes, only genuine appreciation and admiration. She was slightly speechless.
"I…" She cleared her throat. "Thank you… King Thranduil."
He nodded in answer. "It would delight me greatly if you would consent to wear them tonight."
She considered a moment, scanning his eyes again for even the slightest duplicitous expression, but again saw nothing. Quin gave him a small nod and removed the earrings she was wearing, placing them into the box before affixing the larger earrings into the holes in her earlobes. She expected them to be heavy, but their craftsmanship, no doubt honed from centuries of Elven artisanship, made them feel weightless. Quin could almost forget they were there, if not for the feeling of a soft caress against her neck every time she shifted her head.
Looking back at the Elven king, she noticed a shimmer in his eyes, almost resembling tears. Then Thranduil smiled, actually smiled, at her, nodding in appreciation.
"They belonged to my late wife... You do them justice."
Quin could say nothing. Long ago, Emryn had briefly mentioned Thranduil's long relationship with his late wife, and upon her asking of the elven woman's fate, his face scrunched up in sadness and he only said she died tragically. No words felt right enough to dull the waves of grief she felt pouring from Thranduil's eyes in that moment, and she knew the feeling well enough to cease an attempt at any consolation through words. Instead, she reached out and grasped his hand in hers, half expecting him to slap it away. But he didn't. He just gripped her hand twice as hard.
It was a short moment, that exchange of anguish with the man she had felt so much hatred towards for so long, but it seemed to heal something in Quin, a small crack in her heart that she realized had been there since Emryn died. She exhaled the pain, letting it go free, and felt as light as the earrings she wore.
Thranduil let go of her hand as he straightened, his eyes moving to follow something behind her. She turned her head to follow his gaze, and saw Thorin approaching the both of them, two tankards in hand. Thorin's eyes met hers for a moment and he gave her the quickest look, one of their many ways of silent communication, and she could see he was asking her if she was alright. Quin gave him a genuine smile to ease his concern and he returned it.
Upon reaching them, Thorin held out a mug filled nearly to the brim with ale to Thranduil.
"I noticed you did not have an ale in hand, King Thranduil. It is dwarven custom that every man and woman have at least one drink during a celebration."
Returning to his persona of the cultivated diplomat, Thranduil bowed lightly and accepted the drink with a courteous smile. He raised it to his lips reluctantly and took a deep gulp, looking barely able to keep the grimace off his face. His pallor even turned slightly green as they watched.
"I thank you, Thorin," he managed to choke out. "Congratulations to you both on your betrothal, and I wish prosperity and happiness on your kingdom." With that, he bowed again and swiftly walked away.
When he left the pair, Thorin leaned over to Quin. "The entire company spit in his cup," he murmured into her ear.
She choked on a laugh and had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep it contained. She looked at his grinning face. "There is no dwarven custom about having at least one drink, is there?"
When he shook his head, she couldn't contain herself, and she erupted into peals of laughter. A thought occurred to her, and she whipped around to face Thorin.
"Certainly not Bilbo-?" She started questioningly, but at his answering, devious smile, she cackled even harder, gasping for breath.
"'Certainly not Bilbo' what?" A voice piped up from behind her, and she turned to see Bilbo grinning happily at them both. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she recovered.
"Nothing whatsoever, Bilbo Baggins," she said with a smile. "Certainly not any filthy antics the dwarves obviously pressured you into involving a certain Elf's mug of ale."
He pulled at his suspenders and raised himself onto the balls of his feet in mock anger. "I resent that, you know, your idea of me still able to be 'pressured' by anyone, especially for a harmless prank. One that, after all, was entirely my idea."
Quin laughed aloud once more, the others joining in, and she was overcome by a warm sensation that had nothing to do with the alcohol. She was surrounded by the ones she loved, celebrating their lives and their victories. As the night progressed, she soon realized that it was becoming the best in her existence. The company spent hours talking, laughing, drinking, and dancing, not ending the celebration until well into the next morning, as Quin had predicted. When they finally all piled into their beds, ready to sleep off the alcohol still coursing through their systems, the morning crows were already at the battlements, cawing their dawn greetings.
That afternoon, when everyone finally crawled from their separate rooms, the company met in one of the grand dining halls, where an enormous table was set with a huge spread of hot food, ready to be devoured by the hungover party. Where Quin expected to see quiet, sickly-looking dwarves who just wanted a simple breakfast of toast and juice, she was met with a group no less energetic and high-spirited as the one she celebrated with last night, much to her surprise. They all piled their plates high and ate almost as much as Bombur did on a normal day. They chatted and toasted Kili multiple times, the celebration continuing amongst the people that, to Quin, she considered family.
She finished her meal before everyone else, but before she could slip away back to her and Thorin's room, Bilbo caught her in the hallway. She grinned at him, but upon seeing his anxious expression and wringing hands, her smile deflated.
"What is it, Bilbo?" She asked worriedly.
He took a deep breath, obviously building himself up for something. "I… need to talk to you. If you're not too b-busy, that is." He stammered, his eyes darting behind himself at the other dwarves not paying them any attention.
"I'm not," she reassured him. "Would you like to go somewhere else?"
He nodded. "Yes, I was hoping we could meet at the gate in about an hour?"
She found it odd he was setting a specific time and place, but let none of her concern show on her face. "Of course. I need to dress anyway."
He gave her a small smile before scurrying off in the opposite direction to rejoin the others. She considered the hobbit for another brief moment before turning and making her way back to her room. Upon entering it, she found Thorin had somehow beat her there, even though she was sure he was still in the dining room when she left. He was standing near the roaring fireplace, an open book in his hand, reading silently.
Quin stopped in the threshold for a moment, admiring the silhouette of his form before he noticed her presence. Then she stepped into the room, her soft footsteps catching his ears, and he looked up with a smile.
"How did you get here before me?" She asked, peering at him suspiciously as she approached.
The corner of his mouth lifted. "You may have grown more familiar with Erebor in the months we've been here, my dear, but there are still things you do not know."
She scanned the room for a few seconds, then met his eyes again. "Behind the draperies in the east corner. There's a passageway."
He frowned, his eyes darting to the curtains in question. "What gave it away?"
She laughed. "They're moving every so often. There just happens to be a slight breeze in a room far underground and away from any windows? It's a hidden passage for sure."
He closed the book with one hand and rolled his eyes. "Fine, you win. It's an emergency corridor for royalty in case the main entrance is blocked or breached."
Quin smirked, slowly running her hand up his arm. "Don't feel bad, my love. I've lived a very long time. It's hard to trick me."
He nodded and looked back at the fire. Then, without warning, he tossed the book into the flames. Quin cried out and reached her hand forward into the fire, plucking the book from the log pile before it was completely engulfed. She patted the embers off the leather cover quickly, then froze as she realized what she had just done. Her eyes slowly raised to meet Thorin's who was looking at her with resignation, her actions obviously confirming what he had already suspected.
"You're still resistant to fire, Isimuné," he said quietly. "Why haven't you told me?"
She sighed deeply and placed the singed novel atop the mantle. "There's not much to tell."
He reached forward and grasped her hand, turning her to meet his eyes, which were brimming with anxiety. "Does this also mean…? Your immortality…?" He couldn't finish his question.
She immediately brought her hands to caress his face. "No! No, I'm still mortal, my love. The Valar assured me of that."
"Then why-?" He began, and she squeezed her eyes shut, cutting him off.
"The Valar didn't tell me… explicitly," she said hesitantly. "Before I left them in whatever realm I was in, they told me that my purpose… wasn't completely fulfilled."
Thorin took a step back in disbelief. "How can that be? What does that mean?"
She shook her head, crossing her arms. "I don't know yet. But whatever it is… it must have to do with my ability not having disappeared. I think…" she ran her hand through her hair anxiously. "I think it may have to do with Sauron returning."
Thorin paled at that. "You haven't spoken to Gandalf about it since you overheard his conversation in the woods near Beorn's house, have you?"
"No," she sighed. "He's basically avoided me after I tried to bring it up with him a few weeks ago. I didn't even see him at the celebration last night."
"I saw him briefly, but I believe he stepped out around midnight."
Quin thought for a moment. "I'll try and speak to him about it again, no matter how many vague wizard warnings he tries to give me. But right now, I have get dressed to meet Bilbo." She moved to walk past him, but he gently grasped her arm, stopping her. When she looked at him, he had an urgency in his eyes that alarmed her.
"Just... promise me that whatever your purpose now may be, whether it's fighting another war or slaying more dragons… promise me we'll do it together."
Part of her was irritated he would assume she would ever leave him willingly, but her anger was swept away as she saw the true fear behind his request, and realization dawned on her. He was afraid to lose her… again.
She immediately embraced him, clutching him close to her, and he hugged her back just as fiercely.
"You silly dwarf," she said, the sound muffled in his shoulder. She pulled away an inch to free her mouth. "I would never go off without you, not even if Gandalf got down on his knees to beg me."
"Now that would be a sight," he chuckled into her hair, the tension having been broken.
When they finally pulled away, Quin took a moment to appreciate his stunning blue eyes, clear as the afternoon sky. "The rest of this life I was given, it will always belong to you."
He smiled and nodded, leaning in to press his lips ever so softly against hers. Her mouth opened as their breaths mingled together, and she leaned into his weight as she smiled contentedly against his lips. She leaned back, breaking their kiss, and hugged him a final time before leaving his warmth completely, heading to their bedroom.
She dressed in a warm sweater and pants and pulled on her leathers over it, her normal day-to-day outfit as of late since it was still winter, though nearing spring. She tied on her boots and her cloak and set off towards the gate, giving Thorin one last peck before leaving him.
The closer she got to the gates, the colder the air became. Quin still didn't quite understand how the dwarves managed to keep an airy, underground kingdom warm, but they did so quite efficiently, in all places but near the entrance where the lookouts made it impossible.
She inhaled the crisp air as a breeze caressed her face, missing the outdoors more than she would admit. Not that living in complete luxury with no lack of hot meals and hot water wasn't wonderful, but sometimes she dreamed about when she used to sleep under the stars and climb over mountains and ride Alioth across the golden plains. Her horse was still in Rivendell, her not having had the time to go fetch him in all the chaos of rebuilding two cities, and she missed him dearly, though she knew he was probably much too fat and happy eating all the apples he liked to think of her.
When she finally reached the gate, she took a deep breath, watching the small cloud that left her mouth dissolve into the cold air. The huge doors were already cracked open, and she spotted Bilbo leaning against one of the doors, watching the now-bustling city of Dale across the field.
"Bilbo," she said quietly, announcing her presence. He still jumped at hearing her voice and spun around with wide eyes.
"Quin! Oh, h-hello." He said quickly, absentmindedly putting one hand in his vest pocket.
Quin immediately became apprehensive of his behavior. "What did you want to talk about, Bilbo?"
"Uh…" He paused, his eyes darting to something behind her, and his mouth snapped shut. From behind Quin, a voice rang out.
"We're here to discuss Bilbo's return home."
She froze, slowly turning to see Gandalf standing tall behind her, his staff held beside him as always. He stepped closer out of the shadows as Quin glanced back to Bilbo's nervous face. Seeing his anxiety made her force a smile.
"Is that what you were so antsy about, Bilbo? You had me worried it was something more dramatic and dangerous."
He chuckled briefly and bounced on his feet. "Yes, well… I knew you'd be sad about my leaving a-and I had a hard time thinking of the best way to tell you."
"So you recruited Gandalf?" She asked, and he grinned sheepishly.
"That's not quite how it happened, my dear," Gandalf threw in. "I have some business to attend to elsewhere that may take up a generous portion of my time, but I'd rather see Bilbo home myself to ensure his safe return before I did so."
Quin's eyebrow raised upon hearing business, and immediately wanted to start pelting him with questions. But a look in his eyes warned her not to try, so she just sighed and worked up another smile for Bilbo.
"That would make me worry less, I think, if Gandalf went with you."
He nodded fervently. "I agree! Not that dwarves aren't wonderful company on a journey, mind you, but I believe the road to be a bit smoother if I have a wizard by my side the entire time."
She paused, the realization that he was leaving finally catching up to her. Imagining his absence in the Mountain caused a wave of solemnity to wash over her. It was like a small hole opened in her heart and kept growing. She was unable to keep the smile on her face then.
"When are you going?" She asked quietly.
Bilbo noticed the change in her demeanor, and stared at the ground, his lips in a thin line. "Today. The horses are packed and waiting."
She nodded to herself, steeling her emotions as to not make Bilbo feel guilty, and turned to Gandalf.
"When was this decided?"
He pondered a moment, and Quin wondered if he was considering the consequences if he were to answer truthfully. Those consequences being her fury.
"A month ago," he finally said, and Quin felt her fire burn out in her like water was poured upon it. Where she had expected to feel rage at hearing the two had been conniving behind her back for all this time, she just felt hollow.
"I see," she muttered, thinking over his words. She had no ill will towards Bilbo, for she knew he had just been afraid of her reaction, but she felt betrayed by Gandalf. She knew if he had told her what was going on when they first discussed Bilbo's leaving, that would have given her weeks to question him about what was going on outside of Erebor, where an old evil was brewing. And it seemed that above all else, Gandalf was working for his own best interests, no matter the relationship Quin and he had built over the past year and half.
"Bilbo," she began quietly, and the hobbit looked up at her with wide eyes. "Will you please bring the others to say goodbye? They should still be in the dining hall."
His eyes darted between her and the wizard as if afraid to leave them alone, but he finally nodded frantically at the intense look Quin gave him and sped off. She slowly turned back to Gandalf, taking a deep breath as she did so.
"Fine. You've successfully cornered me, child, so ask away," Gandalf grumbled, and Quin stared at him with an open mouth. She snapped it shut when he raised a brow.
"Uh… all right." She thought for a moment on where to begin. "I'm still resistant to fire."
He stroked his beard with his free hand. "Interesting. You've said that you spoke to the Valar before you returned to your mortal form. Did they say anything particular?"
She nodded. "Yes. They told me Thorin's soul would be returned to him in exchange for my immortality… and that my purpose was not yet fulfilled."
Gandalf hummed. "That would imply your ability is still needed in some future instance. I'm not aware of any other dragons that could cause an imbalance between the forces of good and evil, but it could be the next foe has an inclination towards fire."
"The next foe? You mean someone like Sauron?" She asked indignantly.
"Do not speak that name," he snapped, and a small tremor rippled beneath their feet, making Quin's eyes widen. Gandalf closed his eyes and the wave of power dissolved. He opened them with a warm smile, dissipating the tension between them. "I apologize, my dear. I've been rather… strained as of late."
Quin took a step closer to him. "I can see that, Gandalf. That is exactly the reason I've been wanting to talk to you. I want to help! If this… dark lord is rising back to power, I need to know what's going on. If a war is coming, it will certainly come to Erebor, where we will be involved no matter what."
He sighed deeply and firmly grasped her shoulder. "Quin. I appreciate your concern, and I know you only wish to do the right thing. But right now, the Council and I are still attempting to discover if there even is a rising evil in Middle Earth."
She refused to look away from his piercing gaze but gave a small nod. "Fine. I just… hope you trust me enough to let me help… if the time does come."
Gandalf stood straight, a twinkle in his eye. "My dear, if this trouble does come in your lifetime, rest be assured you'd be one of the first I'd ask to assist. I would have thought our year-long expedition together would have proved that."
She chuckled. "Technically you weren't there for the entirety of it." A sudden thought occurred to her, and she grew serious once again. "Gandalf… if… he was to actually return… what would that mean for us?"
He frowned. "It would mean… that the entire fate of Middle Earth is in danger."
Her blood ran cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself to fight off the sudden chill. Before she could respond, she heard voices coming from deeper into the Mountain, and they both looked to see Bilbo and the rest of the company approaching in a boisterous pack.
She worked up a small smile as they came closer. Thorin reached her first, and immediately pulled her into his side, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. She appreciated his warmth and leaned into it, using it to ground her.
Bilbo turned around and faced them all, looking very saddened. "I… I wanted to let you know why I've gathered you all here." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry to say that I'll be returning home… today."
The other dwarves grew silent. Balin stepped forward, a sad smile on his face. "We'll miss you, lad. All of us."
Bilbo looked down for a moment as if gathering himself, then made eye contact with them all. "Eh… if any of you are ever passing Bag End… tea is at four. There's plenty of it. You are welcome anytime." He paused, then smirked. "Don't bother knocking."
The dwarves all chuckled, remembering the day they met the strange hobbit. Then Bilbo turned to her and Thorin.
"Being a part of this company… has been perhaps the greatest honor of my life," he said. Thorin stepped forward and took Bilbo's hand in his own.
"The honor has been ours, Bilbo Baggins. And perhaps greater than that was the chance to come to know you as a friend. You are more than welcome in this kingdom, Bilbo, whenever you choose to return."
Bilbo's eyes watered, and he looked away as he nodded, not trusting his voice to remain steady. Thorin stepped back, and Quin took that as her cue to approach the hobbit who had changed her so deeply.
"I… I'm not very good at goodbyes," she said, tears blurring her vision. Bilbo smiled and grasped her pulled her down to his level.
"I'm going to miss you very much, Quin. Promise me you'll come visit?"
She drew him into her arms and hugged him tightly. "Promise."
When she finally pulled away and stood, Bilbo took a deep breath and nodded resolutely. "Well, then. Goodbye, everyone."
Everyone echoed their farewells with smiles, and he finally turned and walked away towards the pony waiting for him. Gandalf tipped the brim of his hat to them.
"Farewell, my friends. I wish you all the very best, and I wish to return to this kingdom soon, hopefully with good news." He looked pointedly at Quin, and she nodded, receiving his message loud and clear. Then he turned and left as well, mounting his horse with ease. The two put their horses to a steady walk, and they're journey home began.
Quin couldn't help but remember everything Gandalf had said about Sauron, to Beorn, to the Council, and to her. The question remained about his return, and if he was forming a plan to destroy all life in Middle Earth, even at this very moment.
Part of her wondered if perhaps the answer would come in the next year, or ten, or even fifty, but another stronger part wasn't afraid of it. She knew that whatever came, whatever form evil would take next, she would be there to stop it, Thorin by her side. And if she died in the process… she knew there were others in the world, other good people who would stand tall against an army of Orcs with nothing but a sword and a heart full of courage, who wouldn't hesitate to run into a burning house to save someone even if it meant sacrificing their own life… or would even leave their warm hobbit hole to help a friend. Quin smiled at the thought as she watched Bilbo and Gandalf's silhouettes fade into the distant horizon, and she was certain everything would be all right in the end.
A finger brushed against her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn't even realized had fallen.
"Are you all right, Isimuné?" Thorin asked, a concerned look in his blue eyes.
Quin turned and beamed at him, letting all her love for him shine through her eyes as she considered the lifetime they would share together. He looked taken aback at the emotion in her face but returned her smile with a warm one of his own. She grasped his hand in hers and brushed a kiss against the back of it.
"Yes, Thorin. Everything's just as it should be."
And it was.