A/N: Here's the next chapter! Thank you all SO MUCH for the reviews, favourites and follows - I honestly can't tell you how happy they really do make me! I can't promise anything in terms of update regularity but here's chapter 2 to get us going.

Also, in response to Fanfiction Queen - yes, this is an AU where everyone lives! Set post-BOT5A, of course. Sorry I didn't make that clear!

Dearest Balin,

Your letter has been eagerly awaited here and you cannot know how grateful we are for it. You can expect us in a few months' time, as we are waiting only until we have collected enough supplies before we leave.

Bombur's and Glóin's wives have been missing them terribly - and the children their fathers - and it is thankful your letter came when it did. I truly cannot wait to once more see the halls of my home after these long years of exile - and my sons after this long separation.

Warm wishes to you all,

Dís

P.S. You can tell Glóin that Gimli's axe work is now quite terrifying. He will be so proud when he sees it.

P.P.S. Please also inform my brother that if my sons are any less fit than they were when they left, he can start sleeping with a candle lit and fearing for his beard, because I will not be held responsible for my actions. (Please also tell him he's an idiot - but an idiot I couldn't bear to lose.)

When Balin read the letter aloud to the Company at dinner a week after he sent his, Bilbo wasn't the only one to notice Thorin's gulp of fear at his sister's threat. (Fíli and Kíli were, mercifully, for the most part unharmed but had sustained many wounds and scars during the battle, one gracing Fíli's face from his left ear to his chin - which Kíli huffed at, as his were all hidden and he still didn't 'look' like a warrior.)

The Company spent the next two months preparing chambers for the arrivals and buying the finest cloths and pelts to furnish the rooms with. Glóin and Bombur took especial delight in furnishing their chambers ready for their families, taking care to make everything perfect for their wives and children.

Bilbo had a hard time getting Fíli and Kíli to concentrate on preparing their mother's room. All too often their attention would wander, and their feet too; when Bilbo had force-marched them to the market to pick out which furs and tapestries to line the walls with, he turned to ask their opinion on one particularly lovely hanging only to find them gone - until he spotted them getting far too friendly with the ale merchant and had to forcibly drag them away, before they returned with multiple ale kegs and no tapestries.

One evening, after a day spent trying to get them to focus and help, and being thwarted at every turn, Bilbo stormed to Thorin's chambers and barged in - incredibly impolite, he knew, but his temper was frazzled by the Princes' antics and he couldn't bring himself to apologise.

'Your nephews are nightmares,' he complained, startling Thorin who was pouring some ale from a jug into a large cup. Glancing at Bilbo stomping in, he reached for another cup and poured some out for the hobbit too, handing it to him without a word.

Bilbo accepted and flopped into a chair, and Thorin took the seat opposite.

'What are they up to now?' he asked, one eyebrow arched in amusement at Bilbo's disgruntled expression.

'Everything except what they're supposed to be doing,' Bilbo grouched, staring moodily into his cup before taking a long draught of the amber liquid. He wrinkled his nose at the bitterness, but drank deeply again until he'd finished. 'Can't you do something about it?'

'Oh, they will feel the consequences, ' Thorin promised, taking a sip of his ale. 'After all, Fíli is to be King after me; he must learn responsibility. And we can't have the two of them terrorising our hobbit now, can we?' He smiled at Bilbo, who mumbled something unintelligible and looked down into his empty cup. Thorin laughed silently into his own.

'Do you know what the arrival of the others will mean?' Thorin asked suddenly, pulling Bilbo's gaze from the dregs in his cup to Thorin.

'What?' he asked, shaking his head.

'You will have to meet my sister,' Thorin replied, and Bilbo grinned.

'I hear she's a very fearsome woman,' he said, and Thorin couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped his lips, and Bilbo's grin only widened.

'Only when it comes to her sons,' Thorin agreed. 'You should have seen her the year she turned ninety, and she got her first courting bead. She was so moon-eyed Frerin accused her of being an elf - which of course ruined everything,' Thorin said, smiling at the memory. 'Frerin had a way of putting his foot in it.'

Bilbo was also smiling, enjoying seeing Thorin so mellow for once. 'And you don't?' he teased lightly, earning himself a mock scowl from Thorin.

'Of course not! I'm far too diplomatic.'

Bilbo gave a snort. 'Oh yes, because you were so diplomatic in Rivendell, weren't you?' Thorin bowed his head a little, still smiling and acknowledging defeat. 'And then later, with the whole fiasco with the Arkenstone?' Bilbo's tone remained light, but Thorin's expression immediately stiffened and the smile slipped from his face.

'Please,' he said tightly, 'don't...'

'I'm sorry,' Bilbo said, immediately apologetic. 'I didn't mean-'

'No,' Thorin cut him off. 'I can't apologise enough for the way I treated you then. I'll never forget it, and I could understand it if-'

'Thorin.' Bilbo rolled his eyes. 'I forgave you Ages ago. I didn't mean to bring it up, so please let's just forget the whole thing?' Bilbo leant forward and lay a hand on Thorin's, until the dwarf nodded slowly.

'Then I'm off to bed,' he said brightly. 'Another day of ordering stubborn dwarf Princes around again tomorrow. '

Thorin smiled, though it didn't completely reach his eyes, and assured Bilbo that Fíli and Kíli would be much more cooperative the next day.

As he watched the hobbit leave, he couldn't stop the niggling guilt. Bilbo may have forgiven him, but he'd never forgive himself. Not when he'd nearly caused the death of one so dear to him.

If Fíli and Kíli were surprised at their uncle entering their chamber and demanding they behave better on the morrow for "his hobbit", they didn't show it; but were suitably ashamed of themselves and promised to do whatever Bilbo wanted them to. Thorin left after exacting their promises and the two were left to ruminate over their uncle's choice of words.

Another month passed, during which the throne room was renovated and the Company's chambers were finished and furnished to perfection. Even Glóin and Bombur could eventually do no more to make the rooms any better for their families, and they became restless as the days passed with still no sign of them.

Bilbo observed the dwarves fondly, watching their fussing and rushing around which wasn't really so very different from the hobbit matrons back in the Shire. The thought made him chuckle to himself. But then Glóin and Bombur grew impatient and the rest of the company tense, and Bilbo found the atmosphere quite stifling. One afternoon, after nearly three months, he excused himself from afternoon tea early and made his way out onto the wall for a smoke. He'd been able to get hold of some Old Toby from the traders in Dale (which was now flourishing, thanks to Bard's efforts) and he savoured every puff of the quality tobacco.

Standing on the ramparts and puffing thoughtfully, he didn't at first see the small figure on horseback riding swiftly towards the Mountain, what with the haze of smoke surrounding him. But then he did, and he knew that a lone rider, going at such a break-neck speed and coming from the direction of Lake-town could only mean news.

He raced back into the Mountain, and was grateful to find the Company still seated, munching on a few biscuits.

'There's a rider,' he gasped as he barged into the dining room. 'From Lake-town.'

Silence greeted his words at first, but then there was a flurry of activity as chairs scraped back and the dwarves began rushing to the door.

'Bilbo, Balin, you will meet the rider with me,' Thorin ordered, stalking out of the room and leaving Bilbo to hurry along in his wake, shorter legs trying to match his longer strides. Bilbo was fairly out of breath by the time they reached the courtyard, the Company just behind them, where the rider was dismounting.

He was a young lad, covered in sweat and also out of breath as if he'd ridden like his life depended on it. He stumbled towards Thorin, holding a scroll. Thorin took it, trying not to let the worry show on his face. Surely nothing could have happened to them?

'A group of dwarves arrived yestereve, m'lord, and one of 'em told me to give this to you and you only,' he mumbled, exhaustion clear on his face.

'Dori, take the lad and get him something to eat and drink. Bofur, go and see the horse to the stable,' Balin ordered while Thorin slowly untied the ribbon tying the scroll. The lad murmured his thanks and Dori took him inside - most probably to fill him with chamomile tea.

My dearest brother,

It is evening now and we arrived in Lake-town not an hour ago. We will rest here for tonight and leave early tomorrow, so expect us no later than nightfall. I've told the lad I'm sending this by that if he doesn't get this to you before the day is out I'll have his guts for garters - and funnily enough, he believes me. That should ensure he reaches you soon.

We've been travelling on horse-back, with the youngest children in a covered wagon, so I hope you've thought ahead and the stables are in good condition. You never were the best at planning in advance.

But truly, Thorin, it will be so good to see you again. The children are being absolute terrors in their excitement, and poor Gimli has become the unofficial babysitter, but he has adjusted to his new post admirably. Please give Fíli and Kíli my love.

Until tomorrow, Brother,

Dís

Bilbo heard Thorin snort a couple of times as he read the letter, before he stuffed it into his pocket and turned to the others.

'They will be here by evening tomorrow,' he said, and Glóin and Bombur's faces broke out into expressions of joy and relief. Bombur turned to Bifur and began signing the news to his cousin, who immediately swept Bombur into a crushing hug.

They all hurried back into the Mountain - Balin going to check on the lad in the kitchen - and preparations began in earnest. Bilbo wasn't entirely sure what else could be done, but Óin and Glóin rushed around their rooms again and Bombur hurried to the kitchens to speak to the cooks, dictating the menu for dinner the next day and the day after, ensuring only the finest food was served.

Thorin and Fíli and Kíli were also busy, and Bilbo retreated to his rooms so as not to get in the way and to simply think. He wasn't a sentimental hobbit, not really; but the impending family reunions kept reminding him of his family at home - his cousins, his aunts and uncles and most of all his mother and father. He hoped they would be proud of him, proud of what he'd done - although his mother would probably have been having kittens that she still wasn't a grandmother yet. He snorted softly at that thought. Still a bachelor at fifty-one years of age, and nothing to indicate that that was going to change any time soon.

After leaving his solitary room long enough to sniff out some dinner and ascertain that the dwarves were all busy (Still? he couldn't help thinking, what on earth still needs to be done?) As he returned from the kitchen to his room, a tray with a bowl of hot stew and some golden bread still warm from the oven in his hands and a book tucked under his arm, he nearly walked into Thorin.

'Oh! Sorry,' Bilbo apologised sheepishly as he just managed to avoid upsetting the bowl of stew.

'No harm done,' Thorin said. 'Let me carry it for you.' And before Bilbo could protest Thorin had gently tugged the tray from Bilbo's grip and had started off down the corridor. Bilbo hurried after him until they were walking side by side.

'I can't help but wonder what in Middle-earth you dwarves still need to do,' Bilbo complained. 'You're all busy, shut up in your rooms, and I've no one to talk to.'

Thorin gave a snort. 'Trust me, I would much rather have your solitude than suffer what I must. Fíli and Kíli are far too pleased about it.'

'And what is it you have to suffer?' Bilbo asked, intrigued; Thorin merely shook his head but his eyes were glinting merrily.

'You'll just have to wait and see,' he said, and smiled at Bilbo's huff. Soon they reached Bilbo's room, and he handed Bilbo the tray once the door was open.

'It'll be worth it, I promise,' he said, and Bilbo could only raise an eyebrow skeptically. 'Enjoy your dinner, Bilbo. Good night.' And with a slight bow of his head Thorin was gone, leaving Bilbo to eat dinner alone and climb into bed soon after, reading his book but his mind wandering to wonder what heinous process Thorin was undergoing, courtesy of his nephews.

Bilbo didn't see Thorin or the princes or Glóin or Bombur all the next day. He wandered around the Mountain, talking with Ori in the library and making more trips to the kitchen than was necessary even for a hobbit.

When he bumped into Balin he all but begged the old dwarf for some company, and the two went for a smoke. They sat amicably on the stone bench of one of the royal terraces, and for the second time in as many days Bilbo saw approaching riders.

He jumped up, almost spilling the tobacco from his pipe, exclaiming loudly to Balin.

'They're early,' was all Balin could say, before the two of them hurried back into the mountain to inform the others. For they were - the sun was only just beginning to sink into the sky; it was about four o'clock and they weren't expected until seven.

The dwarves rushed to change, and Bilbo followed suit, swapping his comfortable hobbit-breeches and shirt for the more formal trousers and jacket Thorin had had made for him. While obviously dwarven in make, they kept the essence of his hobbit nature in that the trousers were cut off just after the knee and the jacket had a matching waist-coat underneath, complete with golden buttons. Bilbo felt overdressed in the rich materials but when he saw the other dwarves as they congregated again in the courtyard he was reassured.

His heart nearly stopped when he saw Thorin. The dwarf was dressed in clothes of velvet - a deep, regal red which emphasised his dark hair - and many luscious furs. But what struck Bilbo most wasn't his clothes; it was his hair.

While Thorin had, for all the time Bilbo had known him, kept his hair in two very simple braids by his ears and only grown his beard once Erebor was reclaimed, now his hair was a work of art. That was the only way Bilbo could describe it; the only word for the delicately woven pattern of braids on his head. Thorin saw Bilbo's expression - Bilbo abruptly closed his mouth, which had dropped open in shock - and smiled, barely holding back laughter.

'And that was what you were doing last night?' Bilbo sniffed. 'No wonder it takes you dwarves so long to get ready.'

Thorin grimaced slightly. 'The boys were a little over-enthusiastic,' he admitted. ''I promise you, it was as painful as it sounds to have them do this.'

'Well, it looks lovely,' Bilbo said. He was studying Glóin and Bombur, who had just joined them, and admiring their new hair- and beard-plaits and missed the funny look Thorin gave him. 'What do they mean?'

'All sorts,' Thorin explained. 'Some mean joy, some love. But the one we are all wearing - Fíli and Kíli too - this one, see? -' he pointed to an especially exquisite braid crowning his head, around and into which all the others were woven '- it means reunion. That we are being finally reunited with our loved ones.'

Bilbo could only marvel at the complexity of it all - both the beautiful braid and the subtlety of the meanings. He supposed it was like the flower language in the Shire - but that was obvious. Everyone knew that motherwort meant a concealed love.

The dwarves and Bilbo stood in the courtyard and the excitement was palpable. Glóin looked particularly emotional, as if he might burst into tears any second. Fíli and Kíli were fidgeting; next to Bilbo, Thorin remained dignified and still, but Bilbo could feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

There was silence in the courtyard, until one of the sentries blew on a horn and the gates began to creak open; Bilbo felt Thorin tense up beside him, and then a stream of ponies was entering the courtyard followed by a wagon, it's roll-top cover down and a group of red-haired dwarflings inside.

There were many guards and they moved off to one side while five ponies and one pulling the wagon continued straight, heading to the group of dwarves. A dwarf with hair as black as Thorin's and a smaller, intricately braided beard was leading the way, and judging by the way Fíli and Kìli ran to the pony and were helping the rider dismount, calling 'Mother', Bilbo identified her as Dis. Really, the resemblance to Thorin was uncanny.

Glóin and Bombur were also hurrying forward, and there were many excited cries from the children as they crowded their fathers. Bilbo smiled at the sight, Dís enclosing Fíli and Kíli into a rib-cracking hug, before she drew back and head-butted them in turn. Bilbo winced at that, and felt awful for Bombur who was head-butting every one of his red-haired, twelve-strong brood. Glóin, his wife and Gimli were simply standing in a huddle, heads pressed together.

Dís released her children and Thorin stepped forward, pulling her in for a hug. Eventually he released her and they too smashed their heads together. Bilbo heard Dís laugh and tease her brother that he was getting soft. Bifur and Bofur were greeting Bombur's wife, and Bofur's hat was already being passed around by the younglings. Óin had joined his brother and family and was pulling his nephew in for a hug.

Thorin turned to Bilbo and urged him over. Nervously he stepped forward, and stood by Thorin's side. He was grateful for Thorin's warm, heavy hand gripping his shoulder. He sketched a deep bow to Dís, who was smiling at him kindly.

'So you're the halfling we must thank,' she said, and Bilbo blushed at her words. 'I knew my brother had good taste.'

Before Bilbo could inquire as to what she meant, she was suddenly gripping his shoulders and then Bilbo's vision disappeared and all he could see was white light as she bashed their foreheads together. He swayed a little on his feet, blinking until his sight returned and gingerly pressing a hand to his head. He'd have a bruise there tomorrow.

'Ow,' he muttered ruefully.

'Sorry,' Dís apologised sheepishly. 'I forgot hobbits don't have heads like stone-'

She was cut off by Thorin grabbing her arm and pulling her away, leaving Bilbo to be swept up by Fíli and Kìli as they all began to move inside. He could hear Thorin muttering, and he sounded annoyed. Dís replied, irritation making her voice louder and Bilbo heard her say, 'It's not my fault you're behaving as if you two were-' but then Fíli said something and Bilbo had to stop eavesdropping, focusing instead on the dwarf princes as they made their way to the Royal Dining Room where a meal would be set out and Bilbo could meet the other family members.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! :D Thank you all so incredibly much for reading. :3