Having traveled north almost to Forodwaith, Thorin and Kaylea now turned their horses south, for the long ride down the western side of the Misty Mountains to the Gap of Rohan. By riding and resting in shifts they could cover three hundred leagues a day, and by the evening of the second day were already south of the Ettenmoors making their way along the River Mitheirthel. The day had been warm, more like summer then late fall, it was almost a relief when the sun dipped below the western horizon. The river made a good excuse to stop for the night, get cleaned up and make a hot meal. They found a perfect sheltered spot beside a wide bend in the river. A wide, grassy meadow with an outcropping of rock on the uphill side. The wolves trotted into the river to cool off, as soon as the horses were taken care of Thorin and Kaylea joined them.

Sitting on the streambank, Thorin watched his wife scrub herself clean. He was beginning to get accustomed to the red hair and her new face, though he could not wait until she looked like herself again. But her body he knew intimately, every curve, every inch; the places where she was ticklish, though she always denied it, the places that made her writhe with pleasure, every dip and crease in her skin. His eyes traveled over her perfect form, high breasts, long legs, the muscles of her arms, like a goddess sculpted from marble. He still remembered how the hard muscle of her body had surprised him the first time he held her in his arms, the way it had aroused him like no other woman ever had.

"Are you watching me, husband?" Kaylea smiled at him as she dried her braids.

"I believe I am allowed," Thorin replied as she took a seat next to him. He carefully separated one of her braids that matched his from the rest of her hair and absently started to redo it. She still never got them tight enough.

Kaylea smiled at him. "You have been very quiet since we left Angmar."

Thorin did not answer at once, his fingers continued to work her braid. He heard a splash and saw Skadi trying to pounce on fish in the river, Aeneas had already trotted off into the forest in search of dinner. "I fear for my people," he said slowly. "They have never faced a threat like this."

Kaylea met his eyes. "When we moved to the North you swore you were done. You must leave that life in the past."

"But I feel I am abandoning my people. They need me."

Kaylea shook her head. "No. They need someone to lead them. You did that for more than a hundred years. Could you do it again? Of course, but it is in times like these that great leaders are made. Do you not want to see who the next great King of the Dwarves will be?"

"And what if it is this Vidar? What if he leads my people into a ruinous war against Men?"

Kaylea smiled at his worried expression. "Do you really think any of your children will be swayed by this pretender? You taught them better than that, they will see him for what he is."

Thorin opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. He knew Kaylea was right, he knew his sons were up to the task, still he was so torn. His son Thror was the only one of his children who knew he was still alive. He wanted to ride immediately to Erebor and raise the alarm. But he knew if he did that all would look to him to lead the armies, they would want him crowned Emperor of all the Dwarves. He would be pulled back into the life he had worked so hard to leave behind. Deep down he did not want to go back to being a King. He had spent a lifetime doing it and had achieved more than he had ever hoped. He had passed his crown on to his son, as his father had passed it to him, and he had never been happier than he was now, living a simple life with the woman he loved. He finished her first braid and moved around to do the other one; their clothes would need more time to dry and the cool evening air felt good on his wet skin.

"If I had to make a prediction who will lead the fight against Vidar, I would choose Durin," Kaylea said. "As soon as he gets wind of this he will mobilize his army, he might be doing it already."

"I thought you didn't like Durin."

"I love all your children," Kaylea frowned at him. "There was a time Durin did not like me, you remember. I have always had a soft spot for Thror, he is a brilliant strategist but he does not have the ambition of his younger brother. You must think so as well, or you wouldn't have handed him the throne of Moria. I think the one who may surprise us is Freya, if she decides to lead her own army. Though perhaps the Dwarves are not quite ready for that."

Thorin finished her braid and leaned back to inspect his work. "I won't be disappointed if you are right about my daughter." He reached for his clothes. ""Ready for dinner?"

Kaylea leaned over to kiss his shoulder with a mischievous smile, her hand traveling up his leg. "Yes, time for dinner."

Thorin pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. "Let's save that for dessert. I really am starving."

The stars were just emerging as they dressed and got dinner started. Thorin gathered wood for the fire and rolled out the bedroll in their tent as Kaylea prepared venison steaks with the carrots and potatoes they had brought. He was quiet through their meal and Kaylea left him alone with his thoughts, as she had most of the day. She knew what he was struggling with and her heart went out to him. In her more than three thousand years she had left many different lives behind, some had been easier than others. She had seen her brothers bury wives, and children, and seen their pain. This was Thorin's first time, made harder for him after so many years of fighting for his people. She knew he was now facing what it really meant to be immortal. This was a bridge he had to cross on his own.

After dinner was cleaned up they settled against a log next to the fire. Kaylea poured them Dorsai whiskey while the wolves gnawed on the bones left over from their meal. Thorin pulled a fur-lined blanket around them against the evening chill, drawing his wife close.

"This is hard for me, my love," he told her.

Kaylea nodded. "You and I are born leaders; I have been in your place and felt the same. All your life you have looked after your people, but you have laid down that mantle. It is time for someone else to pick it up."

Thorin looked into the fire thoughtfully, his hand stroking the inside of her thigh. "If I decided to ride to Erebor and lead the armies, would you follow me?"

Kaylea put her hand on his. "I would follow you anywhere, my king. You know that."

Thorin brought her hand to his lips, then reached to brush her hair away from her face. "And I know sometimes it is against your better judgement, my love." He smiled at her. "But you are right. This is no longer my fight."

Kaylea smiled back, catching his hand in hers. "This is the part of immortality that most don't understand. The lives and loved ones that you must leave behind."

Thorin took a deep breath. "Does it ever get easier?"

"Easier? No. But you can become accustomed to it," Kaylea poured another round. "Here's to your children!"

Thorin clicked his cup to hers and drank. "Long may they reign and prosper!"

"So, what's the plan? A couple hours sleep and back on the road?"

"Mmmm…actually I was thinking about dessert," Thorin replied, pulling her to him and running his hands up under her tunic.

The next morning the sun was rising in a blaze of pink and orange as Thorin poured out two cups of spice coffee. There was a breeze blowing from the north, carrying the bite of winter, today would be colder though the clear sky promised a fine day for traveling. Across the river the plains stretched out to the south, towards the river Bruinen and the hidden valley of Rivendell.

Thorin turned at Kaylea's hand on his shoulder. "Bird coming this way," she said, nodding to the east. He followed her gaze, saw the dark shape against the pink clouds. His first thought was that it was a raven with a message from Erebor, but the bird he sent from Angmar could not possibly have arrived there yet. As he watched the shape approach he saw it was too big to be a raven. Far too big.

The great eagle landed down the slope from their camp, the wind from his wings raising a cloud of dust and brown grass. He walked towards them and lowered his head. Thorin bowed low in response.

"Khrusos, it gladdens my heart to see you again!" Thorin said. "Does this mean you have news?"

"Indeed," the eagle said, straightening up. "Your grandson has been found."

Thorin blinked at the bird, astonished. "Found already?"

Khrusos took a moment to preen his breast feathers before replying. "It is as you said. He is a Dwarf living not among Dwarves, not doing the work of a Dwarf." He looked from one to the other of them. "He is in the Shire, and he is writing a book."

"The Shire!" Kaylea laughed. "I would never have thought to look for him there. Thank Odin for the eyes of eagles!"

The eagle refolded his wings. "I am only the messenger. Word came to us from the kestrels that hunt in those fields."

Thorin bowed low to the great bird. "Thank you, Windseeker. You have saved us a long journey in the wrong direction."

"Is there a bird that can lead us to him?" Kaylea asked. "I know there are no ravens in the Shire."

"It is a tiny place," Khrusos replied, ruffling his wings in a kind of shrug.

"Yes, it is," Kaylea smiled. "But it is also a maze that only the residents know the way through."

The eagle blinked at her. "I was told the names Sackville and Baggins, a yellow door and green fence. Surely it will not be hard to find."

"That does make it a bit easier. Yellow is not a common color for hobbit doors, and anyone should be able to point out the old Sackville-Baggins place."

"Don't the Baggins live at Bag End?" Thorin asked, puzzled. "I remember where that is."

"The Sackville-Baggins were his closest relations, they did not move to Bag End until Frodo sailed to the West," Kaylea explained. "Yellow door, if I remember right."

Thorin turned back toward Khrusos and bowed again. "I call your debt repaid."

The great eagle shook his head. "I would not be flying free over the lands of my ancestors if not for your majesty. If you ever again desire my help, I am at your service."

Thorin regarded the eagle thoughtfully for a moment. "You may have seen there is strife brewing among my people. If there is a way you can get word to my son in Moria that an army from the Grey Mountains will soon march on the Iron Hills, then I will be in your debt."

"And the other army, in the Angmar mountains? Are they friend or foe?"

"Friends," Thorin smiled. "It seems the eyes of eagles miss nothing. Soon they will march to the Iron Hills, to join the army there. Lords Jord and Narn lead that army but they do not know the speech of birds. Messages must be written and sent in bands, such as the Northmen use."

"I understand," Khrusos said. "I will send word to the Dwarf king. I can tell you the army from Angmar is already on the move, but not the one in the in the Grey Mountains."

"That is good news," Kaylea said. "If they can reach the Iron Hills first, Vidar's army will have little chance of victory."

Thorin watched the eagle rise up into the air, flying toward the dawn. He sipped at his coffee thoughtfully. "So, now we go west. I admit, I was rather looking forward to seeing Rivendell again."

"I was thinking the same," Kaylea said. "But it surprises me to hear you say that."

"I have fond memories of the House of Elrond," Thorin said, throwing another branch on the fire. "That was the first time I saw you with my beads in your hair."

Kaylea laughed. "I had forgotten that! Mithril beads, quite a spectacular gift to a woman you had just met," she took a seat on a rock next to the fire. "I remember thinking they would make a fine statement to the Elves that they could not sit out this fight against Sauron, then suddenly wondering if it meant we were married!"

"If I had known then how long it would take you to accept me, I would have lied and told you we were!" Thorin smiled at her.

"Ah, but the House of Durin would not have endured if I had married you then."

Fili had survived the Battle of the Five Armies and gone on to become one of Thorin's most trusted councilors. He married and had a son, but had died of an illness just before his hundred and seventieth birthday. Yet he outlived his son, who died in an accident in his twenties. If Thorin had not married Shurri, his line would already have ended.

"The path you convinced me to take was a hard one, but yes, my line is secure."

"It wasn't easy for me either," Kaylea told him. "You like to play the martyr, but every time I thought of you making love to your wife it nearly killed me. The few times I saw her in Erebor I wanted to tear her to shreds."

"As I have told you, there wasn't much love involved. Just a couple of minutes at the right time of month until she conceived, then we would avoid each other for years until she decided she wanted another child. I really fought her on the third one, I had two sons and I was just done." He smiled into his beard. "But I am glad she persisted. I would never have known the pure joy a daughter could bring." Thorin rubbed her knee with his. "And now all that is in the past. I hope you have been enjoying our quiet life together these past years as much as I have."

Kaylea drained her cup and reached for the coffee pot to refill it. "It will be hard to leave this one behind," she said, with a rueful smile.

"Must we leave it?" Thorin had been rather hoping they could stay. While there were things he missed about life in the Empire - all the conveniences, the astounding sights, the camaraderie of the Dorsai – but he would be happy to remain a blacksmith in Beleriand with his beautiful wife.

Kaylea chuckled. "Do you really think Lord Blackwolf is going to let one of his most valuable assets just walk away? He will come for me eventually."

Thorin frowned at her. "Is that really how you think of yourself? As an asset?"

"I know in your mind we are father and daughter, and that is part of our relationship. But it is also a relationship of genetic engineer and his creation, and neither of us ever loses sight of that." Kaylea leaned forward. "Remember, that is also your relationship with him now. His genetic manipulations have made you immortal. And you repaid him by making him destroy those gems that he prized over all else. He will be coming for you, when you least expect it."

"I know," Thorin sighed. "I knew it when I decided on that course of action, but it was the only way to save my people, to save this beautiful place."

Kaylea shook her head. "I still can't believe that worked."

"I would do anything to save the life of my daughter," Thorin told her. "I knew you were more than just an asset to him."

Kaylea reached to give his hand a squeeze. "And I still love you after you put a gun to my head. Imagine that."

"Of course, you do," Thorin grinned at her. "I have a reputation for being irresistible."

"I suppose we should get moving before half the day is gone," Kaylea laughed. "We are only three days ride from the Shire. Soon we will find out if your grandson wants to be a king."

"He will return to the Iron Hills if I have to tie him to my saddle and take him there myself," Thorin grumbled.

The sun was already over the peaks of the mountains when Thorin and Kaylea mounted their horses and set out along the river to the East-West Road. Despite the chill breeze, this far south winter felt a bit further away, the trees were still a riot of autumn color, the fallen leaves carpeting the road. They made good time and camped near the old watchtower of Amon Sul that evening. The next day they made a shorter ride to the soft beds of the Prancing Pony in Bree and took in a good meal before pushing on to Hobbiton the next day.

Thorin looked over the rolling hills, the winding paths, the neatly-kept gardens laid out before him. "It has been many moons since I was in the Shire."

Kaylea chuckled. "This place never changes." She led the way along the road that led to the mill. Branching off at irregular intervals were the lanes that passed for streets in the Shire, each with a series of round doors cut into the hillsides behind tidy fences and clipped hedges. It was late afternoon and there were many Hobbits about, working in their yards and gardens. All stopped and stared at the strangers as they passed. They had left the horses and the wolves in the forest just outside town, but even without them the presence of strangers was too unusual to ignore.

"I don't know why they can't number the streets and houses," Thorin grumbled. He knew they were looking for a place with a yellow door and a green fence. Presumably the combination was rare enough that they would be able to find it without too much searching.

"They don't bother because everybody knows everybody here," Kaylea said. "They are all in each other's business all the time." She paused to address a Hobbit stacking wood beside his door. "Excuse me, we are looking for the old Sackville-Baggins place. Can you point me the way?"

The Hobbit looked up and did a double-take. It was rare to see Men in the Shire, and people from the north were completely unknown. "Uh, you mean Bag End. Up at the top of the hill," the Hobbit said, eyeing the bear teeth in Kaylea's hair nervously.

"No, their old place. Where the Dwarf lives."

"I knew it was only a matter of time before that Dwarf brought foreigners into our town!" The Hobbit's neighbor had come over to the fence to join in the conversation. "I said so from the beginning!"

"We are only here to bring him some news," Thorin said. "Not to cause trouble."

"His place is down close to the lake," the first Hobbit said. "You will want to go back to the road…"

"It would be faster to keep on this lane and turn at the honey-sellers," the neighbor said. "Then left at the Proudfoots place, the son's place, not the old man's…"

"No, no, the other way is easier," the first Hobbit said. Thorin and Kaylea left them arguing about it and went back to the road.

"Let's just go down to that big field and look for a yellow door," Thorin said. "I think that will be easier than asking directions."

When they reached the field they found there were four yellow doors on the hillside. Kaylea shook her head and reached for her handheld. "This will take us all day. I'm going to scan for Dwarf life signs."

Thorin put a hand on her arm, glancing back toward the gaggle of Hobbit children that were now following them. The sight of Men in the Shire was no doubt the most exciting thing that had happened all year. They were too shy to approach and stood back whispering among themselves. Thorin knelt down and beckoned them to come closer.

"I have a silver coin for any one of you that can show us where the Dwarf lives," he told them gravely, taking a Moria coin out of his purse.

One of the older girls stepped forward, her eyes never leaving the coin. "The old Sackville-Baggins place? I'll take you!"

The young Hobbit led them up the hill and through a number of lanes that intersected and doubled back on each other randomly. Everywhere Hobbits came out of their houses and looked up from their gardening to stare at the strangers. Eventually they came to a wide lane, the yellow door clearly visible along the base of the hill, behind a newly-painted green fence.

"There!" The girl pointed, then held out her hand. Thorin smiled at her as he dropped the coin in her open palm. She hurried away as Thorin and Kaylea started down the lane.

"He appears to have taken up blacksmithing," Thorin remarked, spotting the wreath of horseshoes hanging next to the door.

Kaylea chuckled. "Just like his grandfather. Shall we go ask him if he is ready to become a king?"