Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit.
And now for the end to come. Oh god this has been a long process but well worth it. Please read and enjoy and don't hesitate to leave a review.
The level of calm with which Marie sat with came from years of social callings from relatives, wanted and unwanted, and it was thanks to that she hadn't already cracked under the gaze of the dwarf lord sitting across from her.
"Do we have an accord then my Lord?"
Dain thumbed the beads of his illustrious beard thoughtfully, giving Marie a hard look that might at once intimidated her. He was all fur and leathers and was a stubborn as a boar, right down to the tusks he had woven into his beard. But after everything she had been subjected to, this was nothing. She took his strange appearance with a grain of salt and gave him the respect now befitting him.
With the death of Thorin's and both his heirs, the secession of the throne naturally passed to the closest kin, to Dain. He took the title of 'King Under the Mountain' and made peace with the Lake men and the elves when the battle had ended with all sides agreeing that enough blood had been spilt.
Marie was lucky with how the dwarf lord went about dealing with her and pardoned of her 'crime' with the support of both a wizard and eleven of Thorin's most trusted warriors. This included reclaiming her promised payment which she already planned to give away. That was the reason for her meeting with Dain the fourth morning after the battle, to settle the terms of her contract. Dain was beyond difficult to easily reason with but Marie held her ground in the discussion.
It did help that Balin at her side, figuratively and physically, as she made her requests, interjecting when she needed advice.
"Tis a strange arrangement ya want." Dain all but slapped his meaty hand on the table where her original contract lay between the two parties. A miracle the document had survived the journey, but the same could be said for Marie. "I can not pretend to know the events that led to this, nor will I pretend that those airy sprites were innocent to a fault. But," Dain shook his head. "You, little mouse, appear more ballsy than you let on, doing what you did. And if Thorin respected that ... then so will I."
They shook hands and Balin pulled out the necessary document, pre written by Balin of course. Marie watched the ink from the signatures dry as Balin thanked Dain in his usual calm and clever manner. The black lines settled into the parchment as Marie plucked at the loose end of her bandaged wrist. Oin had set it and bound it in a think ointment that smelt of rotten leaves.
"You will make a fine King Lord Dain." Balin bowed his head.
"No need for your flattery you old goat." The large dwarf clapped Balin over the shoulder with a wide grin. "You were always too clever for your own good."
"Well someone must be?"
"Aye. Now I must excuse myself. There is a feast to be had and I for one will not miss a chance to to properly send off my kin."
Neither one of the dwarves noticed Marie's sudden change in her demeanor. She had willed herself all morning not to think on it else she would have broken long ago. But she would not break now and took in a deep breath and stood up straight.
They had buried Thorin, Fili and Kili that morning.
Dain took his leave after bidding Marie a silent goodbye and Balin rolled his shoulders back to stretch his old muscles. "If I am honest my dear, I had no real idea just how that would have turned out. We are fortunate that luck was on our side."
"I know." Marie said and smoothed down her skirt. The last few days had seen her accept a second offer of clothes, this time a sensible plain woolen skirt and a thick shirt that hung to her knees, held up with black belt with an intricate pattern imprinted into the leather. Good sturdy threads to see her all the way home. As would the travel pack loaded with brown bread, cheese and a full skin of water sitting against the wall next to Sting, waiting for Marie.
Another thing Balin had taken care of.
While the dwarf collected up the documents and his writing equipment Marie picked up her sword, newly cleaned and weighing even more than usual, and slowly slipped the belt around her hips. Her movements slow as she thought back to the funeral. It had been truly somber event. The dwarven survivors of the Iron Foot army had gathered in the dim hall, holding candles of beeswax to give light over the ceremony. One King buried into the stone of the mountain and a new King rises in the wake of it all. The two wizards and Beorn watched on from afar as the company gave their last goodbyes to their fallen friends. Marie was thankful she had been given a private moment before the ceremony to say her's, where she kissed her fingertips and pressed them into Fili and Kili's cold cheeks. But with Thorin …
Marie's heart was still bleeding and seeing him lying on the pyre with the Arkenstone upon his breast only widened the wound.
Marie slipped the travel pack on and tied the cords of the straps firmly so that the weight settled evenly across her shoulders. She was ready. Balin walked all the way with her and kept asking small questions to fill the silence, most of them with an undertone of concern. He wanted her to stay just for a few more days, until she was sure enough to travel, but Marie insisted she would leave that day and that she would be well with Gandalf for company. "Provided he doesn't disappear on me in the middle of nowhere again." She joked. Balin seemed more at ease. When they reached the gate Marie was treated to the pleasant surprise of the whole company, come to send her off.
"You didn't have to." Marie told them, touched but still surprised.
"You really didn't think we'd let you off with saying goodbye, did you?" Balin grinned. The sly dog probably told them all.
Ori stepped forward. "What kind of friends would we be?" His older brothers nodded in agreement.
Marie's heart fluttered with so much joy she was sure she could cry. She went to each dwarf and kissed their red cheeks before being crushed in their arms. She even wiped away a few tears from Dori's cheeks.
"Here lass." Bofur handed her a pair of gloves that would swallow her hands, which Marie was sure was his own. "The trip will be long and cold. It will be hard to come by a new set of fingers."
"I'll be sure to keep an eye on them." She said.
"Oh. Before we forget. Should you find yourself near that Troll horde on your way home, there's a small deposit marked with an old boot on top of it." He winked at Nori, "A gift from myself and the boys."
She thanked them all, biting her tongue on her protest for such an unnecessary thing for them to do,
This was much harder than Marie anticipated. She armed herself with a smile held the straps of her pack with both hands. "If any of you find yourself in the Shire again, for any reason, just remember teas at four and dinner around half seven." She said. "You are all welcome so don't bother knocking." All of them gave her a bow, their most humble gesture of respect to another. Gandalf was waiting across the narrow hastily built wooden bridge with a horse for himself and a pony just the right size for her. Balin walked with her all the way to the pony's side, even helping attach her pack to the saddle. "I mean it Balin." Marie placed her hand over his, "My home will always be open to you all."
"As will the mountain for you lass."
"But ... just one thing."
Balin cocked his head, "What? Name it lass."
"Try not to empty my pantry in one sitting."
xxxx
The pace at which Dale now moved at could only be described as lethargic in comparison to the first time Marie had stepped foot in it. Quieter too. The lull of idle chatter and the tap and cluck of the city's clean up echoed the worn out folk from the battle. Their dead were burnt, their losses plenty, but they went on living. Marie walked slowly to watch the people. Walls were being built up again, roofs rethatched with whatever could be spared, even the young found the will to play amongst the construction. There were one or two elves helping tend the gravely wounded with the older women and archers watching from the walls from what Marie saw on her way in, indicating that their presence was still very much in the city. Their arrival did not go unnoticed and many stopped their work to stare at the wizard and the hobbit, both of whom played such surprising roles in the battle that had changed all their lives. The people kept their distance though and allowed Maire and Gandalf to tie off their mounts in peace. Marie walked around the pony to her pack. She wouldn't need the whole thing, only two important objects tucked safely in the side pockets.
"When you're ready Marie." Gandalf passed behind her, "We have yet another King to meet."
The hobbit nodded and held the small burgundy box and parchment close to her chest. This was also to cradle her injured wrist close to protect it from the cold. It was hard to find Bard since he was trying to be in several places at once, from helping hoist up planks for roof repair to inspecting food supplies to the wounded, yet Gandalf still managed to find him and settled him to sit. They chose the steps leading to the former great hall and Gandalf sat with him while Marie stayed standing. Bain brought him a bowel of broth and little Tilda sat in his lap to keep him there.
"I take it you've come to bid your goodbyes." He said after a few spoonfuls, "I'm sure as a wizard you have more place to meddle with"
Gandalf chuckled. "Oh my meddling is done for now. Now I must make sure Miss Marie is returned to the Shire in one piece"
Bard nodded and passed his bowel to Tilda. "Going home Marie?"
"Yes. I've had my adventure." She said softly.
"Yes but we also come barring some rather welcoming news for you and your people." Gandalf pulled out his pipe and began to pick out the ash. "Marie dear, you may do the honours." Bard gave her all his attention with a weary but still curious look. Marie handed him the folded parchment and quickly explained.
"To repay the help given to the company of Thorin Oakenshield and the kindness you have shown me." Bard unfurled the parchment and read each line slowly, his expression growing more intense.
"What is it Da?" Tilda craned her neck to see what it said but Bard quietly read aloud it's contents. "In accordance with the wishes of Mistress Mariellena Baggins of Bag End, the fourteenth share of the treasure of Erebor promised to her by Thorin, son of Thrain, shall be bequeathed to the people of Esgaroth. By order of Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills and King Under the Mountain, a quarter of said share shall be delivered within the next full moon of his graces' coronation to the city of Dale ..." Bard's voice trailed off as he read on.
"The share will come in instalments hopefully on a monthly base. Balin will be the chief liaison." Marie explain. "I hoped to have it begin sooner but Dain requested time for the dwarves to re establish a strong foothold in the mountain."
"Marie." Bard lowered the parchment and looked at her with such happiness. He wrapped his arm around Tilda "The fact that you have done this for my people is more than enough on your part."
Tilda looked up at her father, "Does this mean we can get our home back Da?"
"It means sweetheart," He gave her a tight hug, "We can make our home here."
The sight alone of the father and daughter so happy together made it all the more worth it in Marie's mind. She and Gandalf shared a smile. "I take it Master Bowman you have accepted the role as Lord of Dale?" The wizard asked, still picking at his pipe. Bard let out a huff, "Seems I have. The people have given me little choice in the matter."
"They believe in you Bard. The fact that you didn't seize power when it was first offered is a testament to your character." Marie smiled. "I personally believe you would make a just and fair ruler." "Thank you Marie." She shifted her stance and felt the weight of the box in her hand, remembering what else she wanted to accomplish. "Is King Thranduil still here?"
"He is, hold up in his war tent." Bard jutted his chin in the necessary direction. "I know he plans to leave soon. Why do you ask?"
"I have business to do with him as well." Marie excused herself but Gandalf stopped her, "You are certain you want to do this alone my dear?"
"Positive Gandalf." She shot him a broad smile before heading off. There were fewer Elven guards patrolling the area surrounding the war tent and none of them took much if not any notice of Marie. When she arrived at the tent's entrance she glanced up at the guards posted there and when they gave no response to her presence she made her way in.
Thranduil was sitting upon his throne, or more accurately slumped into the thing. He was without his cloak and crown and had a hand to his face, a finger absently brushing across his lip. He whole frame appeared heavy in the throne, losing all the grace and power he usually commanded and Marie thought she could see his true age pressing down on him. She even dared to think it made him look human. This may have been a poor time to speak to him, but Marie squared her shoulders and gently cleared her throat. Thranduil moved ever so slightly to the noise and lifted his head. There was so much sadness in his eyes that Marie felt a pang in her chest.
"Hail Thranduil son of Oropher. Elen sila lumenn omentilmo." She was sure she may have butchered one or two elvish words but Thranduil still raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Impressive attempt." He said and straightened himself up. "Did the wizard teach you that?"
When she nodded Thranduil shook his head slowly with what may have been a smirk peeking through. "His pronunciation always left something to be desired."
"I may have to work on my own." Marie made a sheepish face. "If you are able I would like to speak with you. Or have I come at an inappropriate time?"
Thranduil dropped his hand away so that it hung limp of the armrest. "The time is not inconvenient. Forgive my melancholy demeanour. It has been some many hundreds of years since I have lead my people into a war, so the feeling of loss is quite ... profound one might say." He tilted his head as he went on. "I should offer you my own condolences. Seeing as you have also suffered a loss."
There was no point in Marie trying to deny or play the fool to Thranduil's words. He spoke the truth after all. "Thank you ... My lord, I have come to say goodbye, and to bring you this." She brought attention to the box in her hand. Thranduil pushed up out of his throne, again showing signs of fatigue as he did.
"A gift? For what reason have I to be so esteemed in the mind of a burglar that I deserve a gift?" Though he may have been taunting her there was nothing malicious in his voice.
"Again, this is done not for your sake." Marie set the box on the table, the same one she had presented the Arkenstone, and stepped back. "I believe these are precious to you." Marie held her wrist tenderly and waited. The Elven King appeared baffled but Marie could see something in his crystal blue eyes, a flicker almost imperceptible to the untrained eye but Marie was quite good now at seeing it in others. Hope. With three long strides he stood before the gift, hand outstretched like a child. He hesitated and Marie could see him glance down towards her before flipping the latches and lifting the lid. The sound of his quick intake of air was the only sound in the tent and Marie watched as the elf's long white fingers hovered over the shining gems of the necklace carefully laid out within the box, the light bounced of Thranduil's skin like starlight reflecting of water.
"Just as my share allowed me to claim the King's Jewel, I was able to lay claim to these with the right to return them to you." Marie said and broke the silence.
Thranduil closed his eyes. "You think that returning the heirlooms of my kin would wash clean the past?"
"No."
"Then may I ask ...?"
"I do not know your cause of animosity towards dwarves, or in fact all elves and dwarves to hate. But I hope that this will bring some form of peace. Between you and them or for your own mind? Well ... that is for you to decide."
Thranduil closed the lid carefully and lightly brushed the wood, then turned to Marie sharply. He closed to gap between them and Marie craned her head up to look at him. The elf's expression softened as he sunk to his knee to eye level with Marie, though he still had a good foot on her. His hand closed around both hers and he brought them up between them. "You need not have done this, yet you did, freely and without the expectation of reward. An act of selflessness where none deserved it." His thumbs swept over hands, leaving streaks of cool patches on her skin that did not chill her, but soothed. "You have my unwavering gratitude and I offer my deepest thanks." Thranduil bowed his head and placed a kiss along her wrist. Marie was overwhelmed with a feeling of pride as the Elven King raised his head and gave an honest and gentle smile. He stood fluidly and escorted her like she herself was royalty to the open flap and stopped her just short of the snow covered edge. "The Valar guide your every step westward and protect you Mariellena Baggins, Elf Friend." He placed a hand over his heart, inclined his head then swept his hand towards her. Marie was compelled to mimic the gesture and did so with smaller, less sure movements before finally leaving.
When she returned to the horses a small crowd had gathered, some face Marie recognised while other she did not but she sure she spotted the small faces of the children she had regaled with stories, peeking out from behind their parent's skirts. Bard and children were of course present with Bain clutching a ceremonial shield and Sigrid holding out a small cloak. Gandalf was already mounting his large chestnut.
"We must make our way, before the winter has a hold over us completely." He announced loudly so that Marie heard it loud and clear.
"Right so Gandalf." She picked up her skirt and hurried along. Bain and Sigrid stepped forward, "We wanted to say thank you for helping us." Sigrid said. They must have heard about the agreement. "Bain thought that you may need some protection on your journey." Sigrid indicated to the shield in her brother's hands, "I think you need a little more coverage."
Marie smiled. "Thank you both. They're both equally wonderful gifts."
"I helped to pick them." Tilda added with enthusiasm. Marie had to laugh for the little girl's unwavering smile. Bain attached the shield to the pony's already full saddle while the girls helped to pin the thick cloak around Marie's shoulders. "Alright girls. The lady needs to be off." Bard stepped around the pony and shooed the girls back. He picked Marie up and set her down on the beast, "Safe travels, keep on the path. And Marie?"
"Yes?" She adjusted herself in the saddle and hooked her feet into the stirrups.
"Don't go drowning yourself again. I won't be there to rescue you." Bard gave her that lopsided grin once last time and Marie threw her arms arms around him, being the perfect height on pony back. He hummed into her hair and rubbed her back slowly.
"Take care of yourself Bard."
"And you lass."
He pulled back and kissed her forehead. The crowd pulled away to allow Gandalf and Marie to move their steeds onwards, a handful of the onlookers calling out their own words of luck and safety. Marie cast one last look around at Bard and his family. Gandalf noticed her sad expression and once they were out of the city and on the road southwest he began what was a string of odd conversation that would fill the time.
"How did Thranduil take to your gift?"
"Well I guess. There was a sense of relief on his face and yet ... regret."
"I am sure there was."
Marie glanced at the wizard. "If there is a story with those gems, do I want to here it?"
Gandalf sighed, "Perhaps. I may share it someday."
"I'll hold you to that Gandalf. But Thranduil did thank me and called me Elf Friend." The wizard's head turned to her sharply. "Elf Friend?" He made a strange noise under his breath and returned his gaze to the road ahead.
"Is that a good thing?"
"My dear Marie, it is the highest honour for an elf to bestow."
Yet another name to add to her list. Barrel Rider, Riddle Maker, Burglar and now Elf Friend. Marie flushed pink and not from the winter air. It was also then she noticed how little her injured wrist had been bothering her, and was an experimental flick she came to realise that it did not hurt at all.
Not long into their journey they were joined by Radagast and his rabbit drawn sled. Gandalf quickly explained that they would travel through the south half of Mirkwood where the dangers were minimul. Marie agreed heartily and welcomed Radagast. They two wizards took the lead while Marie's pony lagged behind without Marie giving her the right encouragement to speed up. The pony eventually stopped all together and Marie twisted in the saddle to look back, the Lonely Mountain dominating the landscape. Gandalf and Radagast noticed this and stopped themselves, watching the hobbit.
"Marie?" The Grey wizard called softly, "Is everything alright?"
"I will come back here." She said. "One day. I will come back, but not yet."
'Not when it still hurts.'
She twisted back and spurned the pony to move on. If Radagast or Gandalf had more questions they kept their blessedly to themselves and carried on. Marie straightened her back and looked forward towards home. It would be long, maybe treacherous but she would face it with an ounce of caution, a barrel full of courage and a small magic ring just in case. After all what, what was a mountain troll to a dragon.