Alright, sorry for the delay, just trying to get all my ducks in a row! Also real life has been intervening lately. But thank you all so much for your continued support! We'll have two more chapters of very important meanwhile events before kicking off the LOTR chunk! Stay tuned!

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns Tolkien, you own you!

Dwarves from all over flock to Erebor only days after the battle. You're astonished at how fast word and people travel in a world without higher technology. Although the Mountain is generally unfit to live in, that does not deter the Dwarves returning to their homeland: a city of tents is pitched on the lands in front of the gate where the battle took place. You're impressed with how little they care about basically setting up shop on a fresh graveyard.

You gaze longingly at the multicolored town from the balcony in Thorin's room. You'd love to descend and mingle and just take everything in, but you're afraid you'll be mobbed to death for being an elf.

"Are you feeling unwell?" Thorin asks from the desk.

"No, I'm fine..."

He stands beside you on the balcony. "If you are well, why have you not left this room?"

"I don't want my next near-death experience to be at the hands of a bunch of angry Dwarves."

"You needn't worry about that." When you look at him in surprise, he smiles. "You think there have been no tales of the battle told? You think no one knows what you did for us?"

"And they're...okay with that? They're okay with me?"

"They certainly won't kill you on sight. And if anyone does harm you physically or otherwise, they will answer to me."

You shiver and giggle. "That's certainly a threat to be reckoned with."

"That's the idea. Anyway, my sister has arrived. I'd like you to meet her."

"Meet Dis?" You gulp. "Is that a good idea?"

"I'm sure Kili and Fili have told her all about you already. And she shouldn't be unwelcoming to the woman responsible for her entire family's lives."

You flush. "I hope you didn't tell her that. I didn't do it for glory, I did it for - "

"I know why you did it," he cuts you off with that gentle smile that makes you melt. "Will you come?"

"I've never been able to say no to you before," you sigh.

He offers you his arm. "Never? Are you sure? I would think it a very recent development."

You squint at him and he chuckles.

He leads you through the grand corridors. Dwarves aiding in the reconstruction stare at you as you pass. Thorin ignores them, but you're not so good at doing so. "They're staring," you mutter uncomfortably to him.

"Let them stare. They should get used to the sight."

And there goes another round of blushing. Any sort of affection from Thorin, however small, never fails to set your face aflame and rob you of words. You simply can't get used to it and wonder if you ever will.

You arrive at a parlor of sorts. You're barely in the door before Kili exclaims, "Mother, that's her!"

You expect Lady Dis to be clad in some sort of fine dress, probably green, and have her hair in a perfect bun. Upon seeing her, you feel you really should have known better. Her attire is only slightly different than anyone else's, and her long brown hair is bunned at the top and braided through the rest. Her eyes are bright and keen and sharper than an axe as she takes you in from toe to head.

"Lady Dis!" You bow low and awkwardly. "It's an honor to finally meet you. I'm Aniel."

Her lips twitch as she tries to keep a stern expression. "You seem nervous, child."

"To meet the woman who grew up with Thorin with intact sanity? You must have a will beyond dragons."

Dis' laughter rings loudly and merrily through the room. "I like this one!" she declares, giving you a friendly but hard punch on your bad shoulder. You grit your teeth and try to smile along.

"Dis, she's still injured," Thorin says quickly, stepping between the two of you.

"Ah yes, I'm sorry, I forgot. Injured protecting my reckless brother - no less than a Dwarf would do. For that, I thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me! I had to - I mean, I couldn't not - " You glance helplessly at Thorin.

"Do not worry about breaking the news; my sons beat you to that long ago. It's very unorthodox, Thorin, loving an elf, but apparently it runs in the family."

Kili grins sheepishly behind her.

"So you're okay with it?" you ask hopefully.

"My dear lady, I am ecstatic. Anyone who can put up with my brother and also make him happy has my full support. Truthfully, I was afraid he would never find love. I remember once, when we still lived here - "

"Dis," Thorin says pointedly.

"Oh, fine. Another time, then, dear." Dis winks at you.

Thorin makes some excuse to leave and pulls you out with him. As soon as the door shuts, you say brightly, "I like her!"

Thorin rubs his face. "Of course you do. You two will become the bane of my existence, I'm sure of it."

"I'll be straight with you: if pulling a few pranks on you makes her like me more, I'm gonna do it."

"There's no need for that. She'd already had her opinion of you before you walked in. She was just giving you a hard time to scare you. She used to do that..."

"Is that why she was afraid you wouldn't find someone? Because she'd always scare them away?"

"No, possibly because I would scare them away."

You grin at him. "You're not scary. Not to me."

"That is because you are one of a kind."

The coronation is a month later. You had no clue it had even been scheduled until Dis shows up with a dress for you.

"Oh, it's gorgeous!" you exclaim. "Uh, what's it for?"

"For the coronation, ghivashel. You should be done up nice and pretty for your first public appearance."

"F-First public - what?" you squeak. "Dis, no, you've got it all wrong. Thorin and I - I mean, he said that he - but I don't think we're courting..."

"You don't think?" Dis repeats, raising an eyebrow ominously.

"Well, I mean, he says nice things and is kind and always looks after me, but I don't know if...he never outright asked, so I don't..."

"Did he not?" Dis all but throws the dress on the bed. "I'll take care of my brother, ghivashel. You see if that fits you."

"Dis, no!" You stand in front of the door - a bold move, considering the lightning in her eyes and thunder on her lips. "No, please don't say anything! Honestly, it's been nice as it is! But if we're not quite there yet, I don't want to be presented in front of anyone! I was part of the company, so I should be dressed that way."

"Thorin loves you, that much is certain. And I have already come to love you as the sister I never had. So I will notstand for any foot-dragging on Thorin's part. He will make an honest dwelf out of you, or so help me..."

Dwelf was the term Dis came up with for you as you immersed yourself in the culture and language of the land. You've picked up a few phrases of Khuzdul and know enough of customs not to mortally offend anyone. Dis found it amusing to see a tall, lithe elf dressed in the furs and thick boots of the Dwarves. One such custom you did learn is that it's unacceptable for a man to string a lady along, as Dwarrow-dames are so scarce and precious.

"Please, Dis. I'm begging you. I can talk to him about it myself."

Dis squints at your pleading expression. "No wonder Thorin bends so easily to your will," she mutters. "Very well, do as you will. But if things change between now and then, I expect to see you in that dress!"

You make all the promises necessary to keep her quiet and get her out. You collapse on the bed with a groan. Your hand skims the fabric of the dress. It's a deep, rich blue with golden trim, and very elegant. You'd be clamoring to wear it if the occasion didn't involve being presented in front of hundreds of Dwarves. You were terrified of it all going wrong - of angry outbursts about your race and pressure for Thorin to choose a more worthy mate. And surely he would give in to it, wouldn't he? He had a duty to his people - and perhaps he would be forced to abdicate if he didn't marry a Dwarf, making the entire quest for naught -

"Aniel? Are you alright?"

You gasp through your racing thoughts and look up into Thorin's concerned expression. "I'm fine!" you exclaim breathlessly.

"You seem upset. What's wrong?"

"No, I'm not upset! Everything is fine! And...you can see right through me, can't you."

"You are an awful liar."

You fiddle with the golden end of the dress sleeve. "Dis brought me this for the coronation," you mumble.

"Do you not like it? We can make you another - "

"That's not it. It's a gorgeous dress. But I totally forgot there was even going to be a coronation. I just assumed you were king by default."

"I am the next in line for the throne of Erebor, but I must officially claim it. I look forward to seeing you in the dress. I'm honoring all of the company during the ceremony."

"Then shouldn't I wear armor and my weapons?" you hint.

He blinks. "Why would you do that?"

"I was part of the company, remember?"

"Yes, but you are specially apart from them as well."

"I am?"

You begin to panic as Thorin gazes at you with something akin to shock. You wonder if you said something wrong or hurt his feelings somehow. He finally says uncertainly, "Have I not shown my love for you well enough?"

"Oh my god! No! That's not it at all! You've been amazing!"

"Then how could you not know that you have a special place with me?"

"Because - because - " You're so confused and frustrated that everything bursts forth in one long sentence. "Because Dis brought in the dress and said it was for my first public appearance and I freaked out because I shouldn't have a public appearance if I'm not particularly important because I didn't know if we're courting because you never said anything but why else would you be acting this way but I didn't know - "

Thorin stares at you a moment before putting his face in his hands. "I'm a fool."

"Oh god. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. It is I who should seek forgiveness." Thorin sits beside you on the bed and takes your hands. "I have had so much on my mind that I forgot to - but that is no excuse. I meant to ask you when you were healed, but by then the reconstruction was underway as well as plans to renew Dale. And every time we were finally alone, I was so relaxed and happy that nothing else crossed my mind. It's like we already were courting, only you were unaware."

You slowly digest his explanation. You're not angry with him - shit, you're still thrilled every time he smiles at you - but it all seems so...juvenile. Like a middle school couple who shared a kiss and one person assumed they were dating without notifying the other. The idea that such a thing could happen here of all places is hysterical to you.

"...You're laughing."

"That's because it's hilarious."

"It is far from funny. I've committed an extreme oversight. I hope you can forgive me."

"Of course I forgive you! Don't take everything so seriously, Thorin. I know you've got a lot on your mind, especially right now. I'm just glad that I could help you forget things for a little while."

He kisses your fingertips. "You are a gift."

You grin. "Don't I know it."

"So you'll wear the dress and be presented as mine?"

"If you can promise that it won't make people try to assassinate me."

"You forget, my dear, that Kili has also pledged himself to an elf."

"Yeah, and how do you feel about that?"

"It would be rather hypocritical for me to be anything less than supportive."

You laugh and fall back into the pillows. Thorin had this unique deadpan way of being so funny, and it never failed to raise your spirits.

Thorin crawls up and lays next to you. "Will the lady allow me to make amends for my mistake?" he asks so deliciously that your heart flutters.

"If you insist," you respond breathlessly.

"My lady Aniel, it would be the honor of my life to court you, if you would have me."

"Yes!" You dive into his arms. "Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes! Oh Thorin, you make me so happy every single day, I wish I could find some way to communicate it!"

"Your exuberance is a very good language itself," he chuckles, holding you tightly.

"This is a dream," you murmur into his shoulder. "It has to be. This is everything I've ever wanted."

"You are a dream. The best one I've had. And I refuse to be woken."

You lay there in Thorin's arms, completely overcome by bliss. He doesn't move, so you don't move, so the two of you fall asleep in each other's arms.

The evening of the coronation finds you slipping into the dress just like you promised. You're thrilled by the way the soft material complements your figure. You admire yourself in the mirror from every angle.

"Yes, you do look quite stunning."

You jump and whirl around to see a very amused Thorin. "I...I was just..."

"Preening?"

"So what if I was?"

"You needn't spend any time on your appearance. Presently, that's my job."

"Your job?"

"I came to do your hair before we descend.

"Wow. Warrior, king, and beautician. I hit the jackpot."

Thorin chuckles. "I was going to do your courting braid, if you'd like me to."

"Oh! Yes, of course I'd like it!"

You sit in front of him on the bed. Thorin is skillful and gentle, careful not to tug too hard. You love the feeling of his fingers in your hair and have to repress several shivers.

"There." He clicks the last clasp. "I hope you like it."

You grab a mirror and gasp at the sight. The top layer of your hair is now in a meticulous diamond weave, with little beads glinting in rows like stars. "It's gorgeous!" you exclaim. "So intricate!"

"Only the most unique of designs would suit you, and suit you it does."

"So I get to do yours, too, right?"

Thorin offers you his head. You run your fingers through his wavy raven mane, marveling at how soft it is.

"Are you trying to put me to sleep?" he murmurs.

You giggle. "You like having your hair played with?"

"Apparently so."

You decide on a strong five-stranded braid that keeps the hair out of his lovely face. You work more slowly so it will come out as flawless as yours had. You finally clasp it with a feeling of pride.

Thorin examines it in the mirror. "It's perfect. Thank you."

"And speaking of perfect..." You eye his attire for the night, an ensemble of ceremonial armor and a cape of the same shade of blue as your dress.

"Dis put it together," he admits. "I've never quite gotten the hang of formal wear."

The Dwarrow-dame herself bangs on the door at that moment. "Thorin, you are going to be late for your own coronation!" she thunders. "If you are still not dressed - "

"We're coming, Dis, sorry!" you call, giggling.

Thorin rises and offers his arm to you. You take it like accepting a prestigious award. Hundreds of Dwarves are packed into the great hall to witness the crowning. You stand with the company in the line on the right. All of them are cleaned up very nicely, including Bilbo. You smile excitedly down at him.

"There are so many people," he marvels. "I never expected such a turnout!"

"Neither did I. It's a bit daunting."

"Indeed. But you look lovely in a dress, Aniel."

You laugh. "And you look dashing in a proper waistcoat, Bilbo."

"Yes, a proper waistcoat..." He looks fondly at his attire. "I haven't been this proper since the Shire. It almost feels unnatural after all this time."

"Oh, the Shire..." Your face falls as you remember. "You'll be going home soon, won't you?"

"I'm afraid so. It's certainly been a pleasure staying in Erebor, but it's not where I belong, not truly. But I will be sure to visit, and you must do the same!"

"Of course I will! I'm so excited to see - "

You stop talking as you realize the gathering is also falling silent. All eyes are focused eagerly on the front of the room. Thorin emerges, flanked by Fili and Kili. The golden light in the room is nothing compared to his radiance. He kneels in front of Balin, who, as the eldest of the company, was tasked with the crowning. Balin gives a short speech in Khuzdul before placing the golden helm atop the raven hair you'd just braided. Tears of joy spring to your eyes as Thorin rises, finally in his rightful place, finally home.

He goes down the line and has private words with each of the company. You can't help but overhear when he reaches Bilbo.

"Master Baggins." Thorin surveys the hobbit with a blooming smile.

"King Thorin," Bilbo returns as formally, bowing slightly.

"There's no need for that, my friend. I want to thank you for everything you've done to help realize this night. It was foolish of me to have ever doubted you. You are always welcome in my halls."

"Thank you, Thorin. It is an honor to be able to call you friend. I'm sure you will rule as well as you led."

Thorin now moves to you. You can only beam at him through your tears. He wipes one away and asks with humor, "Why do you always do this?"

"Because it would probably be frowned upon if I attached myself to your chest and sobbed," you return with a watery giggle.

"I owe you thanks as well," he says, taking your hands in his. "For saving the lives of my nephews, for saving my life, and for putting up with me."

"I'd do it all again just to see you now. I'm so proud of you, Thorin, and I'm so glad that I'll be able to see you happy every single day."

"I will be happy if you are here." He kisses your fingertips.

With another short speech from Thorin, the gathering is dismissed for the feast. The din in the dining hall would drown out the coming of another dragon. The long, sturdy wooden tables groan under the weight of so much food. You'd think there would be plenty of leftovers, but you know how Dwarves eat...

It strikes you how lucky you are to witness the scene, especially since it was never meant to happen. Perhaps it was never meant to, but from the cheer and song and laughter, you know it was supposed to. The warmth and good feeling fills your heart and brings forth a content smile.

"Do you dance?" Thorin asks you abruptly.

"Dance? Ha, shouldn't you know that I do?"

Thorin colors slightly at the reminder of the intimate scene he stumbled upon so long ago.

"I don't know if you could call it an ability," you continue, "but I'm pretty sure I can move without looking too awkward."

"Good. Then dance with me."

"Excuse me?"

Ignoring your protests, Thorin takes your hand and leads you to the floor. The few couples already there bow respectfully out of the way.

"Thorin, I don't think - "

"Just look at me."

It's hard not to look at him. He leads in a simple waltz, and you follow desperately in an attempt to look like you know what you're doing. Gradually you relax as the world narrows to just him and the music. He smiles and twirls you. You get a three-sixty view of the room that unnerves you.

"They're staring," you whisper uncomfortably.

"Of course they are. You look beautiful."

"They're not staring because of my looks, they're staring because I'm - "

"Flawless," Thorin finishes firmly.

"Because I'm an elf dancing with the king," you correct just as stubbornly.

"Did you know, dearest, that a king only dances with three types of people? His lady family, any dignitaries, and his intended."

You let out a squeak and trip; Thorin smoothly turns it into a dip.

"Are you - are you claiming your territory?!" you accuse in a hushed voice.

"Not at all! That would be juvenile. I'm simply showing off."

You want to cover your face in exasperation, but Thorin has both of your hands. You mutter, "I'd be more annoyed, but I really like the sly side of you."

"Please do not encourage me, my lady." Thorin parts and bows low. "We are in public."

Scratch that. You hate the sly side of him. You barely recall how to curtsy as his suggestive comment makes you light-headed. Thorin escorts you back to the table, looking very pleased with himself. Plenty of stares linger after the two of you are seated.

"A fine display, Thorin," Dis chuckles. "Very mature."

"I don't know what you mean, dear sister. You know it is tradition for the king to dance with his intended - "

"Yes, and you clearly put so much stock in tradition!"

"I'm just trying to get them all used to the idea. It will be better for them in the long run to accept it and move on."

"You're not giving them much choice."

"That's the idea."

"You try too hard," you mumble with a smile. Dis and Thorin look at you. "That's what you said to me a while ago, remember? But now look who's trying too hard."

"I only do it because I know you will not," Thorin says, tucking a lock of stray hair behind your ear. "And I will not stand for anyone saying something unkind to you."

Your face warms at his protectiveness. You kiss the fingers that linger on your jaw. It is a sign of your surrender, and Thorin takes it as such.

The feast lasts late into the night. By the time it's acceptable for the guest of honor to retire, you and Thorin are supporting each other back up to his room. You're so tired you can hardly stand; he may be more than a little tipsy.

"That was...a good party," Thorin sighs in satisfaction, falling backwards on the bed.

You mumble something indistinct in response and throw your dress over a chair.

"You enjoyed yourself, right? Even a little bit?"

"More than a little. Was fun. Am tired. Sleep."

Thorin heartily agrees with your assessment. You have to help him undress, though your fingers fumble out of fatigue as much as his had out of intoxication. He slurs a thanks and burrows under the blankets. You quickly do the same.

He pulls you close and murmurs in your hair, "Your presence made this the best night of my life so far."

"So far? You planning on having better nights?"

"That will be for me to know and you to find out, my love."