Me: Ehm, hey guys, been a while right? I'm going to be honest; life got in the way again. Well, more specifically, my novel got in the way. I got waaaaay deep into the first edit of it, and wasn't really doing anything aside from that in my spare time, as it was quite the hefty beast to wrestle into shape. But, I finished the edit, and now have some actual free time, and this fanfic came a-calling, telling me to read and eventually start writing it again...and so, here I am. I can't promise how long I'm gonna be around for this time, or if I'll get back to posting frequently...honestly this might end up being like last time where I update and then disappear off the face of the earth for a year again, as I still have 2 more edits of my novel to do...but for now, I'm here, I'm actively writing this fanfic again at the mo...so yeah, hope everyone is all good, and that I still have some people out there following this story...but even if I don't, it's still getting posted, because there's still so much of this left to do that I want to get out into the world. Enjoy, and I'll see you guys when I next see you!

71: Circle of Stars

Solemnity hung gently over the crowd, wrapped around each set of shoulders like a blanket. Quietly everyone made their slow, careful way past the two stone coffins, past the figures that lay within, and despite myself, despite the promises I'd made and the goodbye's I'd said beyond the living world, I couldn't help the tears falling from my eyes. Even Thranduil's usual enigmatic ways were dimmed, his gaze lingering on the three still faces and expression flickering with emotions even I couldn't read.

All too soon it was our turn, and for a moment I almost could have believed it was all a terrible joke, that Thorin, Fili and Kili would spring to life any second, laughter bright in their eyes and fire once more in their hearts…but no. I'd seen them in the Halls of Mandos, had said my thanks and goodbye to them there. All that was left here were the bodies that had held those brilliant souls, now unfettered by the burdens of the world.

Stepping carefully from Thranduil's side, I reached out and placed my hand just shy of where Fili and Kili had been laid to rest, side by side as they had always been in life, and now would always be in death. They look as at peace as they were beyond death, I thought, managing to find a half smile before bowing my head and sighing. Still…still gone far too soon, though…and Thorin…I lifted my head and, slowly following the snake of people, came to where the Dwarf King had been placed near his nephews. On his head lay the crown he had so wished for, and in his hands, laid there by Bard, was the Arkenstone, its light softening the edges of Thorin's bearded face until he truly looked as though he was just asleep.

It took a few moments to find my voice, and even then the words were only the barest whisper, almost lost to the deep cavern of the mountain that we were in.

"…Just this once, I'll forgive you, Thorin Oakenshield, King who should have been…even if you were a grumpy old rock half the time," I managed, scrubbing at my wet cheeks to no avail. "Keep an eye on Fili and Kili…and enjoy the life you've found beyond death…you deserve it."

"And much more, despite the start of this all," Thranduil murmured from behind me, arm coming to rest about my shoulders. I nodded silently, not trusting myself to say anything more, and allowed the Elvenking to lead me away, to the gathering of people now half circling the plinth the two stone coffins rested on. There were other plinths, stretching out either side of the one we stood upon, each with a stone casket in the middle of it. The sconces ringing them had long been dark, their flames dampened to nothing in the face of the wrath of Smaug and the fleeing of those who kept them burning…but now they were alive again, dancing with fires that lit the gloom and softened the edges of the rocky caverns. Soon, those around Thorin, Fili and Kili's resting place would join them, lit in remembrance of those passed into the world beyond the veil of life.

Minutes drew by, and slowly the crowd around us grew, filing in behind Thranduil and I, and behind Dain and the remaining Dwarves of the company, behind Gandalf and, last but not least, behind a Bilbo who looked as fragile as I felt. I turned away from the sight, instead focusing on the ring I twisted about my finger, and the dull pain still reaching out from the wound in my chest. Something…to focus on other than…what's happening…for now at least.

At last, the final few people had filed past and into the silent throngs. There was a moment of pause, a final reflection on what lay behind and before us in our hearts and minds, before Dain stepped forwards. At a lift of his hands, there was movement to the side of the plinth, and a moment later two great stone slabs appeared, twelve Dwarves carrying one of them on their sturdy shoulders, and sixteen the other, wider one. Atop the slabs, likenesses of the fallen three that would rest beneath them had been carved, achingly lifelike. I bit my lip, and felt Thranduil's arm tighten about me.

"I won' dwell on what's come and gone…canna' be changed, 's much as I wish tha' wasn' the case," Dain began, water falling over the rocks of his voice as he watched the sombre procession. "All I'll…all I'll say, 's tha' I hope yer all as happy, wherever ya're now, as ya should've been in this place that should've been home…and tha' I'll do ma best to keep things as they should be. May the stone run true under ya feet, and guide ya to Durin's arms."

At his final word, the cover bearers stopped, statues as they held their burdens over the final resting places. A heartbeat passed, two, three as the soon to be King under the Mountain stared at the bodies of his cousin and distant nephews. Then, a sigh, and another crumbling gesture.

Ever so quietly for things that must have weighed almost as much as the world now resting on Dain's shoulders, the coffin lids found their place. The light of the Arkenstone was the last thing to fade out, a final wink of galaxy-like light reaching out before its blanket of darkness was lowered and sealed seamlessly into place. Thorin, Fili and Kili stared out from the coffin covers, just as their mortal bodies had been, save now they were of stone polished until even the dimmest light was caught and reflected back-

A soft rumble of confusion sounded from where Dain stood, and after a moment of brushing aside my tears I spotted why. There, where should have been stone so masterfully crafted into cloth it looked as if even the smallest breeze could ripple it, was a strangely familiar indent, and where the replica of Thorin should have had his arms folded, they were instead clutching at something missing from the piece.

Before anything else could be said, Thranduil was squeezing my shoulders and stepping forwards. His black cloak swept the floor behind him, drawing Dain's attention from the incomplete stonework.

"May I speak?" he questioned, no hint of animosity in the softness of his voice. Dain's eyes nearly disappeared as his frown deepened, but next second he was stepping aside and nodding. Thranduil turned into place, eyes sweeping over the confused gathering and lingering when they met mine. I tilted my head, wondering just what was going on, and what it had to do with that familiar shape cut from Thorin's…Thorin's resting place.

Taking a deep breath that could almost have been calming, Thranduil then reached into his cloak and drew something out. A something that gleamed with silver light and delicate runes carved in a spiral along its length. Everything clicked into place, and I felt a fist clench around my heart.

Murmurs rose again from the crowd, and I heard the distinct sound of weapons being shifted forwards as Thranduil held the blade aloft for all to see. Even Dain took a wary step back.

"This," Thranduil began, laying the blade across both palms, "is Orcrist. One of the greatest of all was this sword amongst those forged when the world was yet young, a blade who's light was fierce in the face of danger, and whose name was enough to send foes fleeing in fear…a blade wrongfully taken from Thorin Oakenshield when he entered my realm…"

There was a pause, a soft sigh the only thing stirring the air. When he lifted his head and spoke again, my friend's words were stronger, lighter, his gaze steadier.

"As I could not do so in life, I now return it to him in death. May it shine ever in the dark when enemies are near, and warn you of those who would try to take your rightful home from you."

So saying, Thranduil then turned and carefully, almost reverently, slotted Orcrist into place atop Thorin's tomb before stepping back. The handle was snug beneath the carven fingers, and the blade lay against the stone folds of the Dwarf's cloak as if it had always been there.

Silence had stolen the breath from everyone. Even the Dwarves who had worked upon the covers for the tombs, whom Thranduil had to have directly approached about his idea for it to be done without Dain's knowledge, were staring at what the Elvenking had done with quiet surprise. And here I was…thinking Dwarves were as difficult to shock as the rocks they so cherish, I thought, as Thranduil, with a little bow, made his way back to my side. There was a contented air to him now, as if one final weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and as I glanced up I found a tiny little smile already waiting to meet my own. But then again, I used to think Elves were creatures as wild and fey as the wind, and as likely to change their ways as me…and look how wrong I've been proven time and again. Perhaps…perhaps now something can come of this. Not a tree, not yet…but a sapling, stretching its leaves to a new sun.

Thranduil's crown slipped slightly as I leant back against a pillar, and with a hum I shifted it back into place atop my head. I still didn't quite understand why I'd been given it – "Dain and several of the other Dwarves wish me to partake in a contest of drinking, and who am I to decline such an invitation?" he'd said as he'd settled the beautifully simple circlet atop my head – but was far from complaining about it. I didn't have any fancy clothes to wear to Dain's coronation feast, just some simple ones leant to me by one of the healers, so anything remotely decorative was welcomed with open arms…

Speaking of Thranduil, I thought, casting my eyes across the vast hall the feast was taking place in, which table has he gone to sample wines and beers from now…ahh, there he is…and he has a glass in each hand…jeez, and he says he's not an alcoholic. Smiling and shaking my head, I watched as the Elvenking wove carefully between short and tall figures alike, his ear turned to the new Dwarven King at his side. Dain said something, gesturing wildly with his hands, and Thranduil's lips were quick to turn up into a smile.

After his gesture of laying Orcrist upon Thorin's tomb, it seemed water had begun to flow over the rocky Dwarves, smoothing against the years-sharpened edges of their animosity towards the Elves. They were by no means as warm towards each other as I would have liked to see…but, here and there, the two races were following the lead of their rulers, sitting side by side, stories being shared alongside their meals, and laughter slowly rising above any remaining wariness.

Almost reminds me of the Halls of Mandos…A bitter smile cut across my lips, and the scene before me twisted with memory, ghosts of those long gone swimming above the light and heat of those still alive, still breathing and walking and talking and lovi-

Suddenly, it was too much. I needed to move, needed to get up and walk and be anywhere but here, where life so painfully began to mimic what lay beyond it and behind me.

Fingers brushing over the crown upon my head, I stood and stretched, uncaring of the pain that rippled down my still healing chest. Legolas, talking quietly nearby with another Elf, tilted his head at my sharp movements.

"Need some air…tell Thranduil I've gone to the secret entrance if he asks," I murmured, touching a hand to the Prince's shoulder and trying to return the understanding smile he gave me as he nodded.

My breadcrumb trail laid, should anyone care enough to follow it, I was soon shadowing from the great feasting hall and out into the forges beyond – trust them to build the place where they eat next to the place where they work. The fires I'd angered Smaug into lighting were still burning bright as the Dwarven forgers worked the great bellows and chains, the heat almost as fierce as if the dragon were still here and breathing out his flames.

I strode, aimless for a little while, amongst the great stacks, attention lost to the repairs of the shattered waterwheels, or to the airplane-sized rend still torn into the metal bars across the mineshaft, as if they were pages from an ancient book. They are now, in a way. Wounds to remind everyone of what happened, what's gone before them and what may come upon the world again should they…no, enough of that.

With a shake of my head I was off again, following paths that the month inside Erebor had made habit. Past the now gold filled entrance to the mountain, up an uncountable number of stairs, and along great stone walkways and corridors filled with a light they hadn't seen in sixty years until, at last, I found it. Still innocuous, still tucked away in the shadowed side of a wall…but Dain was working to change that. Craftsman's tools littered the ground around the tunnel's entrance – chisels, files, hammers and all sorts, all neatly laid out beside the work they'd begun.

I spared a small pause for the curling flames beginning to emerge from the stone, the story's end that would soon be written around the softly lit hole. Balin had told me what they were doing and why, but it was something else to see the tale slowly being carved into stone as I ducked into the tunnel and followed its arrow straight path up. My body, still weak despite the days since my…revival, forced me to take a break every now and again, to lean against the wall and catch my breath, and to let my eyes roam across the figures taking shape in the dancing shadows of the torches.

They're…they're the Company, I realised with a start as I traced the outline of one of them. There's…there's Thorin…and Fili and Kili…Balin…and the others…Pushing myself from my current resting place, I padded onwards, eyes on the line of Dwarven figures to my left. They were all there, every single one, even…Bilbo…there he is…and there's writing underneath them all…bah, it's in Dwarvish…

My thoughts trailed off as I found the final outline of a carving. It was taller than the others, and the features just beginning to be hinted at were…Me…ha, it's me! So that's why those Dwarves were staring at me for so long the other day…well, isn't that something…I grinned, my returned happiness dampened only slightly by the words I couldn't read beneath my replica on the wall.

Buoyed by this discovery, I reached the hidden door in no time. It was still propped open, though with a larger, more ornate piece of stone than before, and the invisible hinges worked much smoother than before when I pressed my weight against it. Cool air brushed across my skin, trailing a shivering finger down my spine, but I leant out into it, settled into its embrace. It was a pleasant cold, despite its biting edge, and was already snapping at the heels of any thoughts trying to stray too far away from the control I was just starting to regain.

I sighed, sitting down and shifting forwards until my legs were dangling over the edges of the dragon-torn outcrop that had once cradled the hidden door. Now there was nothing more than a small shelf of rock, claw marks gouged through it…but again, the Dwarven craftsmen and women were working to fix that. I could just about feel the edges of new piece of rock with the tips of my toes, held in place by who knew what, and if I leant just a little further out I could see ropes and harness tethered to the mountain face.

Least they'll have a proper place to go looking at the night sky again, I thought, turning my eyes up and finding my smile again. I thought I'd seen all the beauty of the stars from the hilltop in Thranduil's kingdom, though I knew the stars would never cease to amaze me, but up here everything seemed even clearer, if that were even possible. The night was crystalline with silver fire that flared and danced, until every inch of the sky was shimmering with white lights that seemed so close as to stud the mithril ring curled around my finger, or add themselves to the soft glow of the moonstone at my neck until the diamond was blazing at the seams. Now what a thing that would be to have in a necklace…my very own little galaxy…I wonder if Galadriel's powerful enough to do that…might have to ask her if I ever see her again.

Jewelled was the silence around me for a little time, threaded with peace and hung with thoughts no heavier than a feather. After a while, though, a faint sound caught my attention. It was barely there, but I could just about tell it was getting closer…and that it belonged to someone whose steps were usually silent as falling snow. Grinning to myself as they wobbled ever so slightly, I turned my attentions back to the sky and waited.

"Finished drinking, Thranduil?" I murmured a few minutes later as the steps shuffled through the low doorway. Eru knows how he made it up here – probably had to bend at least in half.

"For now," a voice replied, the tiniest of slurs at its edges. I raised an eyebrow and finally turned around, finding the Elvenking standing quietly behind me…well, half standing, half resting against the rocky wall behind him.

"…Are you…actually drunk?"

"No…pleasantly…pleasantly tipsy," he murmured, giving me an easy smile that set me laughing and shaking my head.

"And how much wine did it take to get you like this?" I questioned, and my friend lifted a shoulder.

"I…stopped counting after five barrels were…were emptied."

"Five…you mean five of the Dorwinion wine barrels? The big ones, like the one I...like the one I travelled here in?" Thranduil chuckled and nodded, before adding,

"And two of the ones holding the…ahh, what was that Dwarvish one called? Forge…something or other?" Yeah he's definitely tipsy…almost as ineloquent as I normally am.

"Forge Fire whiskey?"

"Yes, that is the one. Most enjoyable, for a Dwarvish brew…" he trailed off, before gesturing languidly to the tunnel beside him. "Speaking of the Dwarves…did you know that they have begun carving your likeness into the walls along here?" I nodded, smiling quietly.

"Yeah, I spotted it, and the words underneath. Shame I can't read them, but I can always go find…hey, where're you going?" At my words, Thranduil's eyes had brightened, and in an instant he was bending his way back into the tunnel, silvery cloak soon lost in the soft shadows within. A few moments later there was a soft hum of satisfaction, and the still unsteady footsteps started up again.

"Thranduil, what-?"

"It has been a fair… fair while since I have seen and read Dwarvish runes, but if my translation is correct, the ones beneath the…carving of you say: 'The fifteenth, and most unexpected, member of the Company: Fenna Hughard, the mortal woman whose wit and guile were more than a match for the great dragon Smaug; she with forge-fire in her heart and the courage of ten thousand Khazad,'" he said with a nod to himself, before folding down beside me.

I stared, turned to a fish by his words for a few heartbeats and only just managing, "You…you can read Dwarvish?" when my jaw found its way back from the floor.

"And speak it," Thranduil shrugged, as if it were an everyday thing, though he couldn't help the little grin that slipped across his lips as he added, "I like to know if and when I am being insulted, no matter the language."

"…Trust you to learn a language for that sort of reason…probably wanted to be able to reply in kind, too," I said with a roll of my eyes, my snort turning into a full laugh as Thranduil's grin widened.

"What am I to say to that, save that you know me too well, mell pen," he hummed, reaching out and taking my hand in his, his eyes soft when they met mine. I ducked my head, the crown that rested there slipping down to my eyebrows and being straightened by a ringed hand.

"…I am almost tempted to request that the Dwarves include such a circlet in their carvings of you, so well does it suit you…"

"Are you sure you're just tipsy?" I questioned, hiding my smile behind an attempt at a stern look. It didn't work all that well, though, as my friend dipped his head and squeezed my hand.

"Quite…I'm sure the carvers would be displeased if I were to add to their workload, though, so perhaps it isn't such a good idea." I scoffed, gesturing to the tunnel and the artwork within.

"Nah, I think they'd actually be happy for it; have you seen the way they look at every walkway, every pillar and hall?"

"Hmm…the ones that worked on…on the cover for Thorin's tomb must be an exception to that. They were rather unhappy with my request until I told them my reasoning for it, and even then were still somewhat…somewhat disgruntled," Thranduil sighed, brushing an absentminded pattern across the back of my hand, and I let out another laugh.

"Probably because of your rather…ahh, patchy history with their kind…and I have no doubt they were annoyed that they weren't the ones to think of such a thing themselves," I replied, shivering away a finger of ice threatening the peace around us. "Eru knows Balin and the others were grumpy enough when I suggested jewellery pieces and trinkets they'd never conceived-"

"Are you cold?" I blinked, jarred from my train of thought.

"What?" Thranduil repeated his question, head tilted to one side. "Hm? Oh, it's fine, I'm used to it after being here for so long. It's actually quite-eeep!" My words ended in a squeak as, without further ado, Thranduil slipped his hand from mine, reached out, and shifted me over into his lap. The moment I was settled – though that was nowhere near the right word for me just then – he was cocooning me in cloaked arms, the silken fabric tucking over my shoulders until only the tiniest sliver of my neck was left for the wind to nip at, though even that was hidden as Thranduil hooked his chin over my right shoulder.

"Thranduil…wha…what're you…?"

"You are cold. I am solving that problem," he murmured, curving around me and setting my heart skip-stuttering.

"You…could've just given me your cloak," I mumbled, and felt a soft laugh brush against my ear.

"Ahh, but then I would be cold as well, and you are nowhere near cruel enough to deprive me of such comforts."

"Might be."

Thranduil chuckled again, though it was a gentle, happy sound this time. "No, mell pen, you are a soul whose kindness knows no bounds for those you care about."

My cheeks warmed at the words, a bright little thing sparking in my chest, and after a few moments more I began to sink back, to relax against the Elven figure behind me and let the scent of high mountain pines soothe at my edges. Thranduil let out a soft sigh of fruit-and-fire tinged breath and seemed to close his eyes, and for a while again there was nothing but a glittering quiet, the only sounds being the gentle thump of our hearts and the faintest strains of a violin somewhere in the distant halls below us.

After an uncounted number of minutes, though, Thranduil shifted slightly, and I could almost hear the question on the tip of his normally silvered tongue.

"What is it?" My voice came out in a near whisper, afraid to break the little bubble we seemed to have found our way into, and Thranduil's was the same when he shifted again and murmured,

"No…no it is nothing…just an idle wondering of mine."

"Even idle wonderings are easier to understand if they're shared." There was another shift behind me, around me, a liquid strain of half phrased Silvan, but the wine and other drinks were working in my favour tonight, it seemed, as after another moment of hesitation my friend dropped his chin back on to my shoulder and spoke.

"Is…is it…" he trailed of, before clearing his throat and starting again. "Is it…selfish of me….to be happy that you chose to stay here instead of return to your world? To be happy that you gave up the chance to return to your loved ones there, and instead decided to remain here with me…with us…alive and well and…real?" There was a quiet…anxiousness? Yes, that was it, the faint edge to Thranduil's voice, the gentle play of his fingers at the edges of the cloak wrapped around us. This was what he'd wanted to ask me when I'd first woken up, but hadn't found the courage to do so until now.

It was my turn to laugh, despite the still healing hole I'd carved into my heart when I'd set foot upon my new path.

"No, no, far from it. In fact…you saying that is another thing that tells me I made the right decision, which is…well, it helps, you know?"

"Another thing? What are the others?" I thought for a moment, frowning slightly. I hadn't really thought it through. There're plenty of things…little ones, here and there, scattered in a way I can't, and probably won't, be able to give voice to, but…my eyes slowly lifted to the sky, and the raiment of stars draped through it.

"The stars. Back in…back on Earth, I knew the stars like the back of my hand, knew the constellations that were easily seen from my house and the fields around it, even knew how they moved in relation to my bedroom window through the year, as I looked out of it so often.

"When I first found myself here, first looked up at the night, there was nothing there. No constellations that I was familiar with, hell, not even a single star I was familiar with. They were strange, alien, and all I could see when I looked up was that I wasn't where I wanted to be…"

"And what do you see now?"

"Home. I see that I'm home…so no," I said, smiling as I leant my cheek against Thranduil's, and as I felt him return the gesture, "It's not selfish, nín mell mellon. Not selfish at all."

72: There and Back Again

"…Bet ya twenty gold they'll be doin' a bit've verbal sparrin' in the next ten ticks o' the minute," Glóin gruffed from my side, and I grinned.

"Nah, they'll be playing nice from now on I think."

"Like I said…twenty gold's the bet, lass."

I glanced down at him, at the twinkle in his eyes, before shrugging and taking the hand he offered me, my coins soon following suit. Soon enough the rest of the company, and a few of the ceremonial guards lining the doorway, had thrown their coin bags into the growing pile at the ginger Dwarf's feet. Even Bilbo flipped a couple of jewels from his treasure chest into the pile, and I could see a nearby Bard was eying it in a way that told me he was more than a little tempted to add to the bet.

Don't you go letting me down, friend, I thought, watching as Thranduil gestured this way and that as he spoke with the new King under the Mountain. Of course, I had faith – whilst it was by no means an unblocked river of good faith, after the feast things had certainly warmed between the Dwarves and the Elves – but hatred between races was hard to gloss over in a hundred years, let alone a few days or weeks, especially if the races were as stubborn and easily able to hold a grudge as well as these two were. There was certainly hope, though, and absence only made the heart grow fonder…yeah, that hurts, I grimaced, raising a hand to my chest as my heart throbbed, a name ghosting through my mind, drawing my eyes to the distant curves of Ravenhill-

"I guess this is goodbye then," came Balin's voice, pulling me back to the bright light of the afternoon sun. I blinked, shoved my thoughts back into order.

"…Yeah…yeah I guess it is…though I'd like to come and visit you here some time, if that's alright?" I replied, turning to the gathered Dwarves. "I mean, I know that would probably mean inflicting Thranduil upon you, as Eru knows he won't be letting me go anywhere without him in the next few months…or years…but would you possibly be able to endure that so I can come and say hello to everyone?"

There was a hum and haw, the company turning in on itself, and I was sure I saw several beards being stroked beneath tightly pinched mouths. Finally, after even bringing Bilbo in on the hushed conversation, they turned back to me.

"We believe tha' would be…agreeable, as long as you're able to keep tha' king of yours under control," Oin said, mirth bright in his eyes, and I couldn't help but laugh.