Hello my darlings!

Here is the next chapter. Finally, the dwarves are introduced into the story! ^0^

A big, huge hug to everyone who has favorited this story. I love you all.

bird89: I'm glad I was able to make you hate them x3 (and yeah, I thought him stealing the Arkenstone was a bit stupid, too :P)

Ms. Fairweather: I'm so happy you like it /

xXxOtAkU-444xXx: YAY! :D

babygirl2580: Here are the dwarves :3 the next chapter might not have them as much (because I'll be going back to Bilbo), but then for the rest of the story they'll be a constant.

C.G: ((you don't need to thank me, it just gets me flustered :P)) I'll answer all of those questions in the next chapter :)

Naraven: Ahh, I'm so happy you like it! :D

guest: thank you!

One year later...

The Halls of Erebor glittered in their magnificence as the dwarves feasted.

It was a celebration, to rejoice the fact that a whole wing of the mountain had been cleared out and opened. The process had taken long, long months, and it still wasn't fully cleaned out, but it was fit for living. The dwarves had made sure the halls were sound, that they wouldn't collapse, and that all of the dangerous animals and decaying bodies had been removed. The rooms would be refurbished by their new owners.

The news was wonderful for the families that were still forced to sleep together in the cold main hall, awaiting rooms. Now, they could all have their own, comfortable areas and more families could begin the trek to the mountain, knowing they would have a home awaiting them.

Atop the throne, wearing a crown and exuding a kingly aura, sat Thorin Oakenshield. He had his head resting in one hand, the other loosely holding a mug of ale. He swirled it around absently, finding it almost impossible to join in with the festivities.

It had been less than a month after they recaptured Erebor for the gold-induced haze clouding his mind to disappear, leaving him aghast and wracked with guilt. Thorin could barely remember what had happened at first, so far gone had he been. But after his nephews had spat out the story, it had all rushed back to him.

Around the same time, Gandalf had told them the real reason why their burglar had taken the Arkenstone, how Bilbo had only done it to secure an alliance with the armies that would have otherwise been their enemies. The plan may have not been completely thought through on Bilbo's part, but it had worked as well as he could have hoped.

When he was told this, Thorin wanted desperately, oh so desperately, to take a pony and go riding without stopping to the Shire and beg Bilbo for forgiveness. His little love must have been so hurt, so confused, having to leave what should have been his new home-when he was still injured, nonetheless-in exile, when all he had been doing was helping the dwarves.

Thorin's advisors had warned him against leaving Erebor or sending someone after the gentle hobbit, though. Thorin's reign over the mountain was still too young for him to go rushing off; someone would most definitely attempt to claim the throne, and that would just start a mess that they had no time for at the moment. The few troops they had with them were on practically constant duty, and everyone else was at work rebuilding the mountain to its full glory. No one could be spared to go to the Shire and reconcile relations with Bilbo.

Thorin was left to his tormented thoughts, having to deal with the overwhelming grief and leading his people. His dreams were plagued with visions or Bilbo wandering down the roads alone, screaming for the dwarven king's help as he was viciously torn apart by wargs and Erebor burned under Smaug's flames in the background. It was rare nowadays that he would get even a half night's sleep with these horrible images swimming through his mind.

"Thorin."

The king glanced up, seeing Fili approaching him. His nephews had been some of the angriest with him for exiling Bilbo. The little hobbit had taken on the role of another paternal figure during their trip, making sure they were well fed and mentally healthy. Fili and Kili hadn't spoken to their uncle for a year after Bilbo, but now they would only talk to him when it was necessary.

Fili was out of breath, like he had been running. A grin, the widest Thorin had seen in ages, was splitting Fili's face.

"Gandalf's here," he announced breathlessly. "He's with Mother in the conference—"

Thorin was already out of his seat and practically sprinting down the hallway before his nephew could finish his sentence. He was vaguely aware of Dwalin and Fili following him, but his mind was focused solely on Gandalf.

At Thorin and the rest of the company's begging, the wizard had agreed to visit the Shire and check on Bilbo. He had left a week prior, with his rickety cart and horses, swearing to return as soon as possible. It seemed as if he had held up to that promise, and was back bearing news.

Dis, Bofur and Kili and were already into the conference room, talking to Gandalf. Other members of the company were starting to file in when Thorin burst in, chest heaving and halting any conversation.

"Gandalf," he greeted the wizard, striding into the room. "What news do you bring of our thief?"

Gandalf sipped at his tea, his silence infuriating. Thorin knew he had skipped the usual politeness his people showed to guests, but his worry pushed him to skipped through them and get to the point.

"He was unavailable," he said slowly.

"How was he unavailable?!" Kili exclaimed, worry flashing in his eyes. "Is he injured?"

"No, no, he is unharmed," Gandalf assured the company, who all sighed in relief. "It's nearing wolf season in the Shire, and his neighbours told me that he's working with the elves and the Rangers to keep them at bay."

"The elves?" a few of the dwarves spluttered indignantly.

"It makes sense," Oin muttered, giving a pointed look at Thorin. The younger dwarf winced, turning his head shamefully.

"But he's happy, right?" Ori pressed, clutching a book tightly to his chest.

"'E's back in his little hole in the ground," Dwalin snorted. "A'course he's happy." He looked at the wizard expectantly, waiting for him to agree.

Gandalf produced a pipe from his robes. "Happy is a...relative term," he said thoughtfully, puffing out a few rings of smoke into the air. "Bilbo is content in the way he is living, I suppose. He is keeping himself busy, visiting Lord Elrond and dealing with the various orcs and goblins that somehow manage to make it into the Shire."

Kili's expressive face morphed into horror. "They've managed to get into the Shire?"

"They're everywhere these days," Gandalf said sagely. "There's not that many in the Shire, but even a few can kill dozens of helpless hobbits before they're stopped." He puffed out a neat ring of smoke, watching his dissipate. "He's not the same burglar we used to know, I am told. He's changed."

There was a silence after he spoke, his words weighing heavily on everyone's hearts. Dis laid a comforting hand on her brother's shoulder, squeezing it in an attempt to console Thorin.

"Was it because of the exile?" he asked hoarsely, the words almost catching in his throat. "Because of how things were left?"

His nephews sent him surprised glances; neither of them were expecting Thorin to bring up Bilbo's banishment without trying to justify his actions tooth and nail, or at all. In the past, whenever someone would dare to bring it up, he would either verbally berate them and have them thrown out of the room, or stand up and leave without saying anything, and not return until a good five hours alter.

"It was more of what the exile led to, I believe," Gandalf answered delicately, not wanting to upset the dwarven king too much. "The road back to Hobbiton wasn't easy for him. He ran into quite a few difficulties, and was gravely injured when he stayed at Rivendell."

"How did this happen?" Bofur demanded. "Didn't Thranduil and those other tree-huggers give him any guards to escort him back?"

"Their troop were already stretched too thin across their own land, as it is with every kingdom," Gandalf explained. "Bilbo knew this, and refused to take a guard. From what I've learned, he travelled with a group of Men before they were attacked and he was forced to stay and heal in Rivendell. He was the only survivor."

"W-were the wounds bad?" Kili whispered weakly, clutching his brother's hand.

"Lord Elrond wouldn't go into details, but I assume that yes. They were."

Fili shuddered a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. He felt Kili tense next to him, but otherwise stayed still. The brothers, along with the other dwarves, turned their attention to Thorin. Their king had his jaw clenched, his skin having slowly paled the more Gandalf talked. His fists were clenched tightly, his blunt nails digging into his palms.

"Does he miss us?" Ori asked the question that was on everyone's minds. Dori and Nori pressed comfortingly against the sides of their baby brother, Dori stroking the back of Ori's head.

Gandalf gave the young dwarf a sad smile. "It would be impossible for him not to, young Ori," he said.

"Then we should go to the Shire," Kili blurted out. "Get him to come back and stay with us! Mr. Boggins didn't really get to see Erebor the first time he was here, especially not the way it is now"—

"The way it should be seen," Fili added, his brother's enthusiasm infectious.

"That might not be the best of things to do…" Oin said with a grimace.

"Why not?" Kili frowned. "We'd just be apologizing for…" He waved his hand, not wanting to actually say the word. "Things. And thanking him properly for helping us get our home back."

Thorin slumped heavily in his seat, rubbing his chin. "He won't want to come back, Kili," he said quietly. "There would be no point in going all the way out there and then just having to turn around."

"Well, we should at least go check on him," Nori joined in. "Our burglar deserves to know that you aren't cloudy in the head anymore"—Dwalin let out a warning growl, which the other responded to with a leveled glare.

"You'd better watch yer tongue, thief," he spat out.

"Oh, shut up," Nori sneered. "He was being a prat back then, and you know it."

"'E's still the King of Erebor, and deserves yer respect!" Dwalin said, his voice raising.

"Can you two stop fighting for two seconds?" Balin snapped at them. "This is more important than your pathetic bickering."

The two ignored him, their voices rising steadily.

"If anyone should be going, it most certainly should not be you two," Bombur grunted at Fili and Kili. "You two'd git yerselves killed by those stinkin' elves as soon as ye'd reach 'em!"

Fili straightened his back indignantly. "As if we'd let ourselves get taken by those fools so easily!" he defended him and his brother. "Some of us actually have stealth!"

"As much stealth as a bear trundling through the forest," Bofur jabbed, smirking victoriously when the two brothers took the bait and started spitting insults at him.

It all seemed to turn to chaos then. Dori and Balin attempted to stop Dwalin and Nori before fists started flying, speaking louder and louder to try and be heard over them. Fili and Bofur were about to start fighting also, being held down in their seats by the others. Kili and Ori were chatting excitedly, planning out what needed to be done for their trip and all the wonderful things that they would show Bilbo when he arrived—

"That's enough!" Thorin roared, stopping everyone. He took a few moments to reign in his temper, teeth grinding together. "No one is going to the Shire," he stated. "And that's final."

"No."

The room's attention turned to Dis, who had been quiet throughout the meeting. As soon as the yelling had begun, she'd shared a knowing look with Gandalf before returning to her book, occasionally sipping from her teacup.

"No?" Thorin asked blankly.

"Yes," his sister responded. "No."

"No to what?"

"My boys are going to the Shire to get Mr. Baggins," she clarified smoothly. "With guards, and whoever else wishes to join them. So I'm guessing Bofur, Ori, and probably Dwalin, since he won't want to let those boys out of his sight…"

"Sister!" Thorin exclaimed, horrified. "What are you saying?! They are not going to—"

"You don't really have a say, Thorin darling," she smiled at him. "They're my children, are they not?"

"And I'm the bloody king!" he spluttered. "You can't just go about disobeying my orders like this!"

Dis raised an eyebrow, staying dangerously calm. "I think you'll find that I can," she said in a short, clipped tone. "It shames our family name if we don't fix our past mistakes, and care for those who have helped us."

"It—is—pointless," Thorin bit out. "Knowing B…him, he would just give them tea and then send them back home without him."

"We'll talk about this in private," Dis said. She motioned for everyone to leave the room. "Dwalin, pick out five guards to accompany the party to the Shire. You leave in two days' time, so I suggest those who wish to accompany my sons should prepare accordingly."

The dwarves murmured to each other as they filed out of the room, shutting the heavy doors after them. The only three who remained in the conference room were Dis, Thorin and Gandalf, who all sat beside each other at the long table.

"Brother," Dis said firmly, gripping her brother's hand between her own. "I know you don't like this, but it has to be done."

"No, it doesn't," Thorin snapped at her, pulling his arm away from her. She clamped down tighter, refusing to let go. "We should let the hobbit live out the rest of his days in peace. He didn't want to go with us in the first place, so he won't want to come back now."

"You're lying," Dis smiled sadly. "And you know it, too."

"I'm not lying, sister," he snarled. "You're just trying to make up reasons for why you can disobey my orders!"

At any other time, Thorin knew that Dis would have given up on tact and would be beating him into submission. The way that she was actually staying calm, keeping her head, while Thorin was yelling had him more unnerved that he would like to admit. Why couldn't things stay normal?

"Be reasonable," Gandalf chastised him. "Why would Dis want to challenge your authority?" Thorin was unable to respond to the question, so he chose to ignore it.

"This will not end well, as you two suspect," he said agitatedly, fist itching to slam into something. "You were not there when I exiled him, nor did you know—" He stopped himself before he finished. Nor did you know that I loved him.

Dis spoke quietly, softly. "Thorin. I know that you were courting Bilbo."

The king took a sharp breath, feeling his heart crawl down to his stomach. Dis wasn't supposed to know that. No one was supposed to know. Gandalf, the bloody wizard must have seen them in the rare moments that they had sneaked away, and told her. He turned in his seat to snarl at the elderly man, but he saw that he was stunned, pipe nearly falling out of his agape mouth.

"Fili and Kili told me," Dis explained. I should have known.

"You and Mr. Baggins were courting?" Gandalf asked in astonishment. "How was I unaware of this?"

Thorin shrugged stiffly. "It was kept quiet," he said. "From you and the rest of the company. " His throat constricted. "We…we would have announced it officially after we had reclaimed Erebor." His gaze dropped, not seeing the way Gandalf and Dis shared sympathetic looks.

"You need to mend your relationship with him, dearest brother. Even if you cannot be with him, you must say a proper goodbye to each other," Dis said. "If you do not, the rest of your courtships shall be destined for sadness." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, having to reach up because of their height difference.

"I am not a child, Dis," he murmured, defeated. "I am aware of what may come to pass."

"I was not trying to belittle your intelligence," she laughed lightly. "I am reminding you, my King."

He sighed. "Are there any others in my company that know about me and…Bilbo?" The name scorched his throat, making his chapped lips tingle and burn.

"Only Dwalin and my boys," Dis said. "I believe that Oin may be suspecting something, but he has yet to reach a conclusion." Thorin nodded, leaning into his sister's comforting embrace.

"What will you have me do, then?" he asked her. "Go with my nephews to the Shire?"

"Let them go first, and explain things to your burglar," she said. "While they are gone, you will have time to prepare the kingdom for your leave. I'm sure those idiotic advisors of yours will have a million things for you to do before you leave Erebor."

"I shall take my leave now, if it is fine," Gandalf said, putting out his pipe and standing up. "This was only a short visit—I have some business to attend to with the elves. I'll make sure to go to the Shire as soon as I finish, so I'll hopefully be able to reign in Kili and Fili before they do more damage than good."

Thorin felt sick to his stomach.

"Oh, just leave before you do more damage than good," Dis snapped at the wizard, throwing her napkin at him.

Gandalf winced, realizing his attempt at humor had been taken seriously. "Terribly sorry, my dear Thorin," he apologized. "I was trying to lighten the mood, but it seems that that joke was a bit crude."

"It's fine," Thorin muttered, waving his hand. "Safe travels." Gandalf dipped his head and left the room.

"Relax, brother," Dis said after it was just the two of them, hugging him close and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Everything will be alright in the end. I swear upon the Valar that it will."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Dis," he sighed heavily. "Especially not to the gods."

"Okay," she said loudly before he had finished, clapping her hands twice. "If you are just going to argue with me, then we are done talking about it. Share a cup of tea with me, and then we'll both go properly announce the trip you and the others are going on."

Dis pulled his empty cup closer, and poured fragrant tea into it. Thorin reluctantly took a swig of it before setting it back down on the table, half-listening to his sister chatter on about the new gossip she'd heard. His mind kept on focusing back on the promise his sister had made. I hope you're right, Dis.

Thank you for reading!

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