I am beyond thrilled to announce (albeit fairly late) that Strangers Like Me WON THE COMPETITION! Thank you so, so much to everyone who voted, it means the absolute world to me! I love you guys so, so much and I appreciate every single one of you who read, follow, review or vote for Strangers. You are the reason that this amazing journey has been so wonderful, and I can't thank you enough!

Well, that was an interesting month! Thanks for sticking around, guys, I'm sorry that it took a while again but ALL MY DEADLINES ARE OVER! HORRAY! I'm still fairly busy but I should be able to get back to updating regularly!

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed, including my unnamed guests and Hermione Granger – thank you, and you are so welcome! I'm glad that how much I care comes across, you guys mean the world to me!

A quick before we go further: as you well know by now, the ages of pretty much everyone are entirely messed up. I am, however, changing things on purpose now (for example the fact that Boromir and Faramir are even alive right now) and it will all be revealed soon.

On that note, I made a mistake back in chapter 56, when I wrote the ages of Bombur's brood as 25, 18, 12 and 5. As their characters have progressed I've realised that it puts me in poor stead for where I want to go if they are those ages right now, so I'm changing them to 50 for Bofin, 44 for Bróin, 23 for the twins and 5 still for Bodin. There will be an explanation for the long gaps in the upcoming chapters and it should be fairly clear why I'm doing it as the story progresses. However, their equivalent ages are barely really changed the way that I've written them so far (yay for my messed up systems) so I hope the numbers don't really change how you see them :D I'm really sorry about this. Broin got more cheeky than I expected, and he's grown on me more than I thought he would, hahaha. If I get a chance I'll go back and change it in the chapter, but I don't know, it feels like fraud to cover up mistakes you all know were there? Well, we'll see if I get a chance ;)

Right, I hope you enjoy this chapter, please forgive any more mistakes :/

Read, enjoy, review!

Chapter One Hundred and Nine # Secret Love Song #

It had taken Bilbo a while to pick the perfect place. Speaking in his own quarters' – or Dís', for that matter – would make things incredibly awkward and increase the pressure on them both, especially if things went downhill. A more neutral location would be ideal, but it would not do at all to be interrupted or overheard.

It had been Elza who, unconsciously, supplied the answer. On the first day of every week the Company and hobbits took breakfast together in the royal dining room. The day after Fili and Bilbo spoke, Elza mentioned to him that the Diamond Ballroom was locked every Monday, as it was the rest day of the restoration workers.

When Bilbo had realised that today was in fact Monday his ears had pricked up. As it transpired, Elza had quickly risen up the ranks of the team in the Diamond Ballroom to the point where she was second only to Balin, the project manager. Frodo had innocently asked if that was because she was courting Dwalin, and when she had laughed Bilbo could see the irritation in her eyes.

"I don't think so Frodo. In fact I certainly hope not! I work very hard in my own right and I do my best, and that is how I earnt these."

With that, she had tapped the keys in her pocket.

It had been surprisingly easy to convince her to loan him the keys.

"I trust you, Master Baggins," she had smiled, "And I trust that you mean no malice. All I ask is that you return them to me by midnight and minimize any signs that you were there. Ooh, and one of your lemon cupcakes wouldn't go amiss, next time you bake."

Bilbo promised to bring a batch around the very next day.

He waited until Frodo was at school, then asked Dís if she would like to take a walk with him. She accepted (which was a good thing, because he realised as he asked her that he did not have a backup plan if she was busy) and they strolled through Erebor until they came across the ballroom.

"Bilbo, it's Monday," Dís reminded him. "We cannot go this way today."

"Well…" he smiled, holding up the key.

Dís raised an eyebrow, but did not comment as Bilbo unlocked the huge door and walked inside. Even with the scaffolding and building equipment littered around the room, the Diamond Ballroom was beautiful. They wandered around the outskirts of the room in silence for a moment, and then Bilbo took a deep breath.

"Dis, there are some things that I need to tell you."

Her eyebrows drew together ever so slightly. "Alright…"

The hobbit quenched the urge to stammer and look away, instead staring into Dís' eyes and speaking strongly, though softly. "First, and most importantly, I need you to know that I am grateful beyond words that you are a part of my life. You are a greater friend than I could ever think to ask for, and I would not jeopardise our friendship for anything. But there is something I must tell you."

He paused to take another deep breath, studying Dís' face. Save her slightly furrowed eyebrows, her expression was unusually blank, as if she was deliberate trying to mask her emotions from him.

Here goes.

"Dís, I love you."

Her mouth dropped open slightly and her eyes widened. At least she was not screaming and running away – that was a good sign.

Bilbo continued. "I love you in a way that I have never loved anyone else before, and I doubt that I will ever love anyone this way again. You are on my mind all the time, and I cannot describe the way I feel other than by saying that I love you with all my heart and I want to be with you, until I die."

Dís opened her mouth to talk but Bilbo was on a roll now. As he spoke she bit down on her lip and stared at him with eyes the colours he imagined the sea to be. He was told that oceans were unreadable, too.

"But," he continued. "I do not expect you to feel the same way, and if you do not I promise that I will not pursue you. I value our friendship far too much, and I would hate for you to feel uncomfortable around me. I will love you for as long as I live, and, the Valar willing beyond that, but I-"

Dís stepped forward and kissed him, quickly, softly, before pulling away and smiling like a tween. "I love you too."

For a moment, Bilbo could not speak. "You… you do?"

She nodded, a shy little smile on her face, and Bilbo felt like his heart was exploding like one of Gandalf's fireworks.

"Well, that's… good…" For the first time in his life, Bilbo could not even think of the words to say, so he did the only thing that he could think of.

He leant forward and he kissed her, his hand cupping her neck as her fingers sank into his hair. Dís tilted her head slightly, returning his kiss with a passion that made his head spin.

When they eventually parted they stood for a moment, and Bilbo felt as though he was aware of every single fibre of his being. This was right. This was meant to be. He was sure of it.

"So," she murmured after a long moment. "How, exactly, are we going to tell the others?"

"Well, Fíli already know, in a sense," Bilbo said, elaborating at her confusion. "He cornered me yesterday, claiming that he knew I was in love with you and that I should stop dithering around and tell you how I felt."

"Why does that surprise me? It really shouldn't, after all these years… Well, that means that Kíli knows too then. Still, they should be the first to know, officially. And Frodo." She paused, and a grin began to spread across her face. "You know what? After that I think we should have a little fun…"

"You do?" Bilbo raised an eyebrow.

"Well, we're entitled, are we not?" she replied.

"I suppose so…" he grinned. "What do you have in mind?"


Farmer Maggot was well used to odd folk. Living in Buckland it was unavoidable – they had much less protection from the big folk and other outsiders than those living in the inner most parts of the Shire. Moving westwards would bring him closer to equally strange characters, like the hobbits of Hobbiton. He trusted few of them, and when those with Brandybuck relations came a-visiting he was always on his guard.

Especially when Kíli Baggins would appear. It was not out of distaste or dislike of the dwarf that Maggot taught his dogs the lad's scent – it was his penchant for vegetables. Maggot had been scarce thirty years old when he caught Kíli up to his ears in mushrooms. The boy was lucky in that Maggot was fond of Bilbo – the two had played together now and again when they were lads.

As fate would have it, Maggot happened to be sitting on the exact same spot on his fence as he had been when he noticed a dwarfling among his mushroom patch. Pipe in mouth, he watched the sun set over the fields that he cultivated so carefully. He was proud of them, and rightly so. They were the finest fields in the farthing, everyone said so. Gip rubbed against his leg and Maggot rubbed his smallest dog's ears.

It was the sound he heard first – the almost inaudible patter of hobbit feet. There was a slight scuffing sound, as though whoever it was had been tripping over their own feet. Gip growled softly, and Maggot eased himself off the fence, striding into the road.

To his utter surprise, Hamfast Gamgee, of all people, stood before him.

"Gaffer!" he cried. "What brings you to these parts?"

The young father leant on his cane, catching his breath for a moment before replying with a weary smile. "Begging your pardon, Farmer Maggot, but I've come to as you for a favour."

A little confused but please nevertheless, Maggot gestured towards the gate. "Of course, come inside, Mrs Maggot's just about to put some supper on."

The Gaffer smiled a little more that the sound of food, which was a good sign. Soon they were sitting in the comfortable living room of the farmhouse with the scent of his wife's signature mushroom stew wafting out from the kitchen.

"So," Maggot asked. "What can I do to be helping you today?"

"I've heard that you have contact with them ranger folk that are looking after us these days."

Maggot inclined his head. "I've met a couple. One was trespassing in my wheat field – not on purpose mind, but I set her right. Why?"

"Well, I've some things I want to send to Samwise, but I didn't know quite how to get them there, you see," the Gaffer patted his backpack. "It's a little more'un a letter, and I wanted to know if you knew anyone willing to deliver it for me that wouldn't go a-thieving or a-wandering with it, if you understand me?"

"I understand," Maggot nodded, rubbing his chin. His mind flew to his friend in the Old Forest, but he doubted that Master Bombadil would travel so far out of his lands. "Well, there's always the one I told you about earlier, the woman ranger. Name of Caladwen. She has a son, not tall as you or I yet. She was telling me that she wanted him to be getting experience of the job he was 'destined for', and of the big wide world. Seems a rather stupid thing to do to me, the boy'd be better off with a spade or a plough, but they might be willing to take it for you. I've met 'em a few times since then. Always polite, like, and while the grown folk are all rather grim the lad is merry enough. What was his name… Hal… Not Halfast, that's your cousin. Halbarad, that's it! Strange name, but then they're strange folk."

The Gaffer relaxed slightly, as if a small part of a great load had been removed from his shoulders. "Thank you…"

"Don't thank me yet," Maggot smiled slightly. "We haven't asked 'em! Now, what is it you're sending the lad?"

Hamfast's mouth twitched into something between a smile and a frown. "Just bits and pieces. A letter, and ones from his brothers and sisters. A couple of things I think he oughtn't have left behind. The like."

"I didn't know you knew your letters," Maggot commented mildly. "I'm impressed."

"Neither did I," the Gaffer snorted. "I had a little help, mind. Young Sam, he knows them better than most of us."

Maggot smiled, letting the silence sit for a while. Then he asked, as gently as he could, "I couldn't imagine letting on of mine go out into the world like that… How're you holding up, Gaffer?"

"Sometimes I don't know," the hobbit sighed heavily. "He came up to me, soon as the Bagginses left, it seemed. He just looked at me with big teary eyes and I said 'Samwise, if you're thinking what I think you're thinking you should know I think you're being very foolish', and he nodded and he said 'I know. I'm sorry, Papa. I'm sorry.' And I knew that my baby was broken and I couldn't fix 'im. Keeping him in the Shire'd only break him more, if you know my meaning. I thought that maybe, just maybe, Mister Bilbo might be able to fix him. So I told him I loved him and I… I let him go."

The farmer had to look away for a moment. The pain in the Gaffer's eyes was so intense that it hurt to see.

"I tried to follow him." That made Maggot look up again. "I don't want to leave the Shire, never have, never will, but he's my son. And he's so, so young. But I couldn't even make it a full day in the market looking for supplies before my damned leg gave out. And I couldn't take the others – five kids on my own in the state I'm in?"

"And what state is that?" Maggot frowned.

The Gaffer laughed bitterly. "My left side's about as strong as a dandelion. I can barely see in the dark, and not that much more in the light. Lose my balance all the time, as well. Not to mention the headaches…"

Farmer Maggot furrowed his brow. "I'm sorry to hear that, Gaffer. Really I am."

The Gaffer shrugged. "No need to be sorry. Nothing anyone can do about it. I can't even do anything about it. Only thing I can do is what I'm doing, and try and get this here parcel to my boy."

Maggot nodded as his friend tapped the bags. "We'll get 'em there, Gaffer. I promise. We'll get 'em there."


Bifur could tell that Ióni was uncomfortable. Merry was nervous – shuffling around on Bifur's shoulders with his heels hitting the dwarf's chest – but he was not uncomfortable. Ióni, on the other hand, looked as though someone was pressing a knife into his back. His face was white, his lips were tight and his hands were wrapped tightly around his chains. They looked more like a lifeline than a symbol of guilt and imprisonment.

In truth, Bifur did not blame him. Ióni had been making great progress recently. Bifur was in charge of the lad's rehabilitation – he had taken the lad as his apprentice, he was ensuring the quality of his hard labour, and he was talking to Ióni's Healer every week to make sure that he was on track with his mental health.

To the prisoner's credit, he was much further along the track than anyone had expected. His hard labour was almost always almost perfect, his carvings were coming along (though his fingers still fumbled with the more delicate tasks) and he was finally, finally, beginning to trust in the king and his intentions for the people of Erebor. Ióni was still yet to forgive himself for any of his misdeeds, and he had enough emotional baggage to fit right in with the royals, but he was getting there.

He was shaping into a strong young dwarf, and Bifur was proud.

However, the main public did not know that. To them, Ióni's symbolic chains told them that the dwarf was currently imprisoned, and had committed a violent crime. It was clear from the fact that he was walking around at all during the day without guards showed that he was not believed to be dangerous, but he was still largely mistrusted by default.

While Ióni dealt well with the stigma, he was now walking around with a young hobbit. The hobbits had initially divided opinion, it was true, but at the first whisper of a threat the entire kingdom became fiercely protective. As such, the sight of one of the littlest hobbits with a chained criminal was one that drew many looks, or more accurately many glares.

"Relax," Bifur said under his breath. "You need to relax, Ióni."

"And how am I to do that," Ióni replied in Khuzdul, "when half the people we pass wish to see me dead?"

"Calm yourself, you draw more attention with your nerves."

"What are you talking about?" Merry worried. "Can you see him? I can't see him."

"Not yet," Bifur said, much louder and slower. "Where do you think we should look first?"

"Fishmongers?" Merry supposed. "That's where Ióni saw him last."

The wolf was not by the fishmongers – the vendors had not seen him all day. Neither was he anywhere else to be found at the marketplace, nor in any of the nearby shops. He was not in or around the kitchens, and he was not near Hlín's Arena. Merry was growing more upset by the minute.

By the time they reached the main entrance hall of the Lonely Mountain, the child was trembling on Bifur's shoulders. The toymaker reached up and swung him down, settling Merry on his hip, instead. Merry wrapped his arms tightly around the dwarf.

"Why are all these big folk here?" the hobbit sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Politics," Bifur grunted. "They are men of Rohan. They are owed gold in our treaty but their king died, so a royal embassy was sent to make sure that the money falls into the right hands."

There was a pause. "Bifur, I don't understand all of those words…"

"Because of politics and grown-up problems," Ióni translated.

"Oh," Merry sniffed. "That's not important. Where's Denahi? What if we don't find him? What if something's happened to him? What if he's…?"

"Don't think like that, young Master," Ióni said firmly. "We will find him."

"But where could he be?" Merry whined fearfully, his hands twisting tightly around Bifur's clothes.

"Perhaps he has simply gone off hunting without anyone being aware of it. You said that he is no one's wolf but his own – could that be possible?"

"I don't know," Merry shook his head. "I don't know!"

"Alright, calm down," Bifur chimed, making sure to keep his voice slow this time. "We will get nowhere if we are too upset to see straight."

"But I can't be able to see straight if I'm so scared!"

"Just keep breathing. That's the key," Ióni advised.

Merry took several long, shaking breaths. "Nope. Not working."

Ióni stopped dead in his tracks. "Look! Over there!"

Bifur looked sharply to where Ióni was pointing – one of the men of Rohan on the outermost part of the group was shifting his weight, and the large, steel trap slung over his shoulder was swinging a little. Bifur and Ióni shared a glance and Bifur's heart sank.

"What? What's wrong?" Merry panicked. "Why does that man have chains? Did he make bad mistakes like Ióni? What's that thing with teeth? Bifur?"

"We shall have to see," Bifur said grimly, striding towards the embassy. "Ióni, I will need you to translate for me."

"Yes, sir." Ióni nodded.

Bifur shifted Merry onto his back so that he could free his hands. It was more acceptable to communicate in Iglishmêk with outsiders than it was in Khuzdul. He signalled to Ióni clearly.

"Excuse me," the young dwarf said, his voice strong.

The men all turned. Bifur noticed that there was a child among them, a blond boy of around ten years, with bright eyes and expensive clothes. It was the man nearest to the boy, perhaps thirty years old with equally regal dress and hair just as golden, that replied.

"Good day, Master Dwarves. May we help you?"

Bifur began to use his hands and Ióni translated swiftly and truly. "I am Lord Bifur of Erebor. This is my translator Ióni and Meriadoc Brandybuck of the Shire."

It was almost comical, the way that the men's eyes all seemed to widen at the sight of Merry. They had clearly never seen a halfling before.

"Indeed," said the man. "Théoden, Prince of Rohan, is my name. Is there something that you need?"

"Yes," Ióni spoke again for Bifur. "We are looking for a wolf – the companion of Master Merry here. I could not but notice that you carry with you many traps. Have you seen any wolves in the last two days?"

Théoden's brow furrowed. "A child so young keeps the company of a wolf?"

"He's a good wolf," Merry piped up indignantly, clearly uncaring of whether this man was a prince or a stable-boy. "He's called Denahi and he's big and he's quite brown and he's very gentle and nice. Ióni, what do you mean traps? Is that what the tooth thing is? Have they hurt my wolf?!"

"If we have indeed harmed your wolf, I can assure you that it was not our intent," Théoden said sombrely. "We do carry traps with us when we ride, for we bring many horses, and it is not uncommon to be attacked by wolves or bears or wargs when we ride. However, we only set them when we camp and by morning we collect them again. Our traps have caught naught but a rabbit since leaving Rohan, and I believe they are all accounted for. Grimbold?"

It was clear who Grimbold was – he was the man with a worried frown on his face. "Forgive me, my Lord, but I do believe we are missing one. It was lost three days ago, on the journey from Esgaroth to Dale."

Théoden's expression did not change, but his voice was as stern as steel. "Oh?"

The child coughed. "Father… That might've, um, hypothetically, been my fault."

A look that Bifur knew all too well passed over Théoden's face – it was the look that Thorin got when his nephews did something foolish and it would be improper to slam his head into his palms. "Theodred, explain yourself."

"It was not the fault of the prince," Grimbold shook his head. "The responsibility was mine and I accept it. But when we were packing up camp I allowed myself to be distracted by the boy's games. It was only later that I realised we were missing a trap."

Théoden turned to the dwarves. "Lord Bifur, if it transpires that your wolf has been caught in this trap due to our negligence, I will gladly give compensation."

"What does that mean?" Merry cried, clearly panicking now. "Is Denahi stuck in a trap, is he hurt?"

"Maybe," Ióni said quickly. "We don't know, Master Merry."

Merry let out a forlorn cry and dropped his head onto Bifur's shoulder, muffling his miserable words. "I told you! I told you, I said he's gonna be hurt and, and-"

"Shh," Bifur said gently. "Shhh."

"I am deeply sorry," Grimbold's face was sincere. "With leave of my Lord I will ride out immediately and check."

Théoden nodded. "You have leave. Go swiftly. "

Bifur signed once more. "You should take someone with you," translated Ióni before Grimbold could leave. "Someone that knows the wolf, just in case."

"Me!" Merry squeaked.

"No," Bifur, Ióni, and Théoden all spoke in unison.

"Just in case something goes wrong," Ióni explained.

"There's no time to get someone else!" protested Merry.

"How far out is this trap?" Ióni read Bifur's hands.

"Half a day from Dale. But Arod is one of the fastest horses we have, and Grimbold one of our best riders. He will be back before the sun sets, I am sure."

"If they are to return by sunset, Aria could go," Ióni translated. "She works in the stables, she is good with animals. She could take Luno and Lani with her. If Denahi is hurt they would be able to bear him back."

"We met her in the stables," Grimbold recalled. "If she is willing and can keep up, I have no issue with her joining me."

Bifur called out to a nearby dwarf and signed for him to bring Aria, the wolves and Grimbold's horse to them. The dwarf bowed and scurried off.

"Well," Théoden sighed as they waited. "This was not how I wished to begin our negotiations. If we have caused the boy pain I am deeply sorry."

"And I'm really sorry if your wolf is hurt because of us," young Theodred added. "We really didn't mean to."

Merry sniffed and whined slightly, but did not say anything. Bifur smiled softly and began to sign again.

"Merry has nearly caused one or two political disasters himself, with greater intent towards mischief than you. I would not worry about this putting a strain on inter-kingdom relations."

Merry gasped, flying upright. "I have not!"

Bifur laughed outright, signing quickly. "Oh? The dragon firework, does that ring any bells?"

It was Theodred's turn to gasp. "At the coronation? That was you?"

"Not just me," Merry pouted. "And it wasn't s'posed to go off. That was an accident."

"Exactly," Ióni translated. "Accidents happen and sometimes people – or wolves – get hurt. Kíli had that bruise for weeks, remember?"

"The bruise wasn't my fault," Merry protested. "I didn't throw an axe at him."

Bifur was spared from replying by the arrival of Aria, leading Grimbold's horse and the two wolves. The men of Rohan looked stunned at the beasts' appearance, and even more so when Luno loped over and licked Merry on the nose. Tapping Ióni's arm to tear his eyes away from the wolves, Bifur signed again.

"They are safe," translated the younger dwarf. "And perfectly well behaved. They are also Lady Aria's bodyguards for the time being."

"They are indeed," she smiled. "Lord Bifur, what's going on?"

"There's a slight chance that these men may have inadvertently trapped Denahi-"

Immediately Lani's hackles raised and she began to growl.

"Stop it, Lani!" Merry scolded. "It was an accident!"

Lani huffed, and did not lower her hackles, but she did stop growling.

"So Master Grimbold is going to ride back and remove the trap, as well as seeing if Denahi is there. Someone who knows the wolves should go with him, and-"

"I'm on it," Aria nodded, her face sombre.

"We have horses to spare – I doubt even the fastest pony could keep up with Arod," Théoden said.

Aria grinned, and her eyes glinted. "I'm not going to be riding a pony. Lani, come here girl."

The men of Rohan and Ióni watched, astounded, as Aria whispered into the wolf's ear. Their astonishment grew when the wolf lowered down to her stomach, allowing Aria to mount. Only Bifur and Merry were unfazed.

"If Denahi is hurt we have not the time to lose," Aria said pointedly.

"Of course, my Lady," Grimbold stepped forward with a swift bow. "Let us go."

With that, the man mounted his horse and headed to the exit. Aria followed, with a single command to Luno, who nuzzled Merry's nose once more and then ran after them.

"Papa," said Theodred, his eyes fixed on the retreating figures, "Papa can I have a wolf please?"

Théoden stared down at the child incredulously. "No, Theodred, you most certainly may not."

Theodred pouted, but did not push the issue. This was clearly not his first diplomatic trip – he knew how to behave himself.

And now, thought Bifur, we wait.

And there I will leave you for today! I hope that you enjoyed that chapter, and I really, really hope that I did our lovebirds justice! I have little confidence in my romantic ability, but I think I just about pulled it off…

The next update should be fairly soon, so keep tuned for some reactions, the fate of a wolf, and an explanation of where the hell Gandalf is :D

Please leave a comment if you fancy, it really makes my day when you do!

Thank you for reading :D