Meandering my way through the healing forest would have been lovely were it not for the crippling sadness plaguing me. The quiet was maddening, begging to be filled by anything at all, but I was not about to begin talking to myself. I kept all my animal friends away as well, determined to spare them from my burden of grief. I was surprised to see that the trees were not losing their leaves in preparation for winter. It must have something to do with the power I was shoving into them, their newfound energy confusing them into forgetting the season. Likely this would change by the time next winter hit, or even by the end of this one. I could not tell what would happen. I was currently near the borders of the elven king's halls, and though I often saw patrols out admiring my progress, I chose to ignore them beyond a vague wave in their direction. Disliking the thought of being approached, I headed south, deeper into the forest...

Thorin approached the edge of Mirkwood with equal measures of curiosity and apprehension. What he could see at its borders was a far cry from the dim horror he remembered. Bright leaves shone in the afternoon sun, and a peaceful calm lay in the air. Still, he did not let his guard down. He would continue to be wary of the elves despite their renewed alliances. It came as no surprise that he was discovered within minutes of entering the shelter of the trees. Stilling his mount, he waited for them to address him, mildly surprised when they immediately lowered their weapons with a polite bow.

"My Lord Thorin, we were not expecting you. What brings you to the Greenwood?" The elf speaking had a look of intense pleasure on his face at being able to call his home by its rightful name once more, and Thorin was put at ease by his open display of emotion.

"I am looking for my intended," he said simply, unsure whether he should offer more explanation.

The small patrol exchanged glances, communicating silently before the leader turned to him again. "We have not seen her of late, but come. We will bring you to Thranduil who may know more. I believe he is keeping tabs on her."

Thorin nodded gratefully, dismounting to follow them on foot for a time and give his mount a rest. They were at the palace gates after a short walk, during which time Thorin had attempted to engage the guards in slightly awkward conversation. He had been pleasantly relieved to find no hostile gazes aimed in his direction, and so he was far less nervous than he would have been upon entering the presence of the elven king.

Thranduil glanced up at his entrance, dismissing his guards with a wave of the hand so that they might have some privacy. "Thorin, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he drawled, only mildly sarcastic in his greeting of the dwarf king.

Thorin's mouth twitched in an approximation of a smile. "I am looking for Alanta. I wondered if perhaps you had recently seen her?"

At that Thranduil frowned slightly in confusion. "She is not here now..." he said slowly, clearly thinking back to the memory of whenever he had seen her last. "I believe it has been about a week since she was last seen near here, before she turned south and left our patrol borders. Did she not tell you when she would be returning?"

Biting his lip in discomfort, Thorin muttered his explanation. "She does not yet know that I live, and hasn't been back to the mountain." He flushed in embarrassment when Thranduil's eyes widened in incredulous shock.

"You did not tell her? Why ever not? Though it does explain her behavior. She has avoided all contact with us since she has been here, offering nothing more than a wave before disappearing from sight. Until now I had chosen to believe she was merely too focused on her work to socialize. It was either that or think she was being intentionally rude, but that does not seem like her."

Thorin groaned sadly, dropping his face into his hands. "I should have known it was a mistake to wait for her return to tell her." His shoulders sagged. "I would have told her immediately, but I never thought she would stay away," he added, a note of pleading in his voice as if he were asking for forgiveness.

Thranduil sighed. "You will find her," he reassured the distraught dwarf. "I am assuming you are going to continue looking?" Thorin nodded determinedly. "If I may offer a hint then. Flowers bloom where she walks, but they do not last more than a few hours before disappearing. Find the flowers and you will be that much closer to finding her. Good luck."

"Thank you," Thorin answered appreciatively before turning to leave. Thranduil watched him go, marveling at how far the dwarf had come since the month before his almost death.

I spent my days now in well-practiced, maddening monotony. Heal a tree, move on, heal another. Every once in a while I would climb up to the canopy to see the colors spreading like ink, pushing back the darkness and dying leaves as they went. I enjoyed the days, when quiet was my only companion, forsaking sleep as often as possible. My nights were filled with pain and horror, as Thorin's voice echoed through my dreams in agonizing clarity. The sight of his broken body on the field of battle sending me reeling back to wakefulness with a choked scream. I prayed for the dreams to stop, only for them to change. Now I saw Thorin on his throne, garbed as the king he would have been, in a cruel taunt against reality. The dreams intermingled, alternately offering hope and then severing it with painful finality until I was stumbling along, determined never to sleep again.

I wandered this way for many more days, encountering no one in the far reaches of the forest near the old abandoned fortress. Gandalf had told us of how the dark power was expelled from that place, but I still gave it a respectable berth. I could sense that the evil was truly gone however, and it put me at ease. I did not get close enough to notice the small group of shadowy forms that scurried around behind the crumbling walls.

Switching directions, I let my path take me back north again, realizing vaguely that I would conclude my journey near the entrance to the elven path on Beorn's side of the forest. I still wasn't ready to face anyone, so I resolved to avoid the plains and stay within the trees. I finally made it to the end of the darkness, placing my hands against the last tree with a sigh of satisfaction. I was no sooner done when I hauled myself to the top, observing the beauty that surrounded me with a genuine attempt at pleasure. It was almost working when I gazed east, catching sight of Erebor back lit by the rising sun. I turned quickly away, the familiar ache returning with ease. Throwing myself back to the ground, I landed heavily and fought the increasing urge to sleep. It had been weeks since I had gotten any sort of decent rest, so I sat against the base of a tree, deciding to just close my eyes for a moment.

Thorin wandered far and long, searching for the clues that Thranduil had offered him. The forest was beautiful now, not a single bit of corruption in sight. The webs were gone, the leaves were brilliantly bright, and the river glittered in the sun as it wove its way through the trees. Yet for all the peace that surrounded him, he felt constantly anxious, going over every bad decision he had made in the last while.

He was beginning to give up hope when he finally caught sight of a trail of ruby red flowers. Heart racing, he swung his mount around to follow them, startling when the pony pranced in place and snorted nervously. He gave another insistent tug to the reigns, yelling out when the frightened mount tossed him to the ground with a jerk and bolted away to the east. Getting to his feet with a painful grunt of frustration, he drew his weapon, glancing around to try and catch sight of whatever had spooked the beast. There was no obvious reason that he could find for his mount's actions, so he shrugged helplessly, growling under his breath about useless animals. Sheathing his sword, he continued on foot, not realizing how close he was to the edge of the forest. Not seeing the small group of orcs that were keeping pace out on the plains as they tracked the lone form they had seen near the old fortress.

Keeping to a steady jog, Thorin continued to scan the ground, becoming more excited when the path of flowers grew larger. He was close. He looked ahead, suddenly spotting a lean form, resting against a tree. She was instantly recognizable, and he spurred himself on faster. "Alanta!" he yelled out eagerly. He was utterly unprepared for her reaction. She jumped to her feet with a choked cry, flinging herself into the shape of a bird before racing away to the west. He panicked then, breaking out into a full on sprint as he tracked her flight. She was pulling away from him faster than he could ever hope to go, but just as she would have been out of his sight completely he watched as she tumbled out of the sky. He could not understand why she had fallen. His heart twisted painfully, knowing if nothing had stopped her fall there was no way she would have survived it. Dreading what he would find, his mind took him back to the last time he had seen her fall. She had survived that time, she would have to be fine...

There was his voice again, sounding all too real and dragging me back to the day. My only thoughts were to get away, to get into the sky where I had no memory of him. I shot off, wings trembling with exhaustion and headed west. I could see Beorn's house ahead, but I would not stop. There were too many memories of him there. I could see the skinchanger walking around outside, and saw him notice me with interest. I had never shown him this form, so chances are he didn't realize it was anything other than a large, oddly colored bird. I had almost passed him by when I heard a triumphant shriek from below, followed by a piercing blow to my chest. The arrow had lodged directly between two ribs, and I could feel it dragging me down with the weight of it. I was too tired to resist. The last thing I heard was the earth shattering roar of a furious bear as I lost my form and hit something soft...

I came to wakefulness to the sound of fighting. Looking to my left, I watched as Beorn dispatched the squealing orcs with artful precision. I yanked the arrow out, gasping sharply from the pain and placing a healing palm to the wound. It was just closing over when Beorn shifted, heading in my direction. He looked worried, but I shook my head, backing away. I didn't want to talk, to accidentally relive any of the painful memories here. He ignored my frantic silent pleas, so I hurriedly shifted again, taking the form of a cat this time to keep out of any more hunters sights. I took off at a run, head swimming and limbs fighting for purchase against the ground, Beorn's voice echoing in my ears.

"Alanta, wait! Where are you going?"

I ignored him forcing myself to go faster until I could no longer hear him. When I was far from the meadow I found myself a small indent in the ground under some tree roots, and curled up to let sleep catch up with me, praying the dreams would stay away for just one night.

Thorin was heaving for breath as he kept running across the plains. Beorn's house was slowly coming into sight, and he could only hope the man had seen Alanta. Perhaps he was with her even now. The thought was cheering.

He reached the large house, glad to see Beorn already heading in his direction. Sinking to the ground, he rested for a bit, ignoring the trembling in his legs and the pain in his chest from running so far. He gasped out his question as soon as Beorn was within hearing range. "Have you seen Alanta? Did you find her? Is she safe?"

Beorn frowned. "She took off before I could make sure she was alright. Got shot right out of the sky by a pack of orcs, but when I tried to check on her she was frantic to get away. What is going on?"

Thorin was tempted to let out a scream of frustration. He had been so close and now he wasn't even sure if she was alright. "She still thinks me dead," he admitted sadly. "According to Thranduil she's been in the forest this whole time, alone. I must have frightened her when I yelled out, because she took off..."

Tugging him to his feet, Beorn began leading the exhausted dwarf gently inside. "Well, at least we know she is going almost due west. You should rest for tonight, and eat, and in the morning I will lend you a horse so you can catch up to her."

"Thank you Beorn," Thorin mumbled as he staggered alongside the giant man. He managed to eat only a small amount before actually falling asleep right at the table. He didn't awaken when Beorn picked him up and deposited him on some nearby cushions, sleeping through the night and partway into the next morning. After a full breakfast, Thorin left in a much refreshed state, ready to track down his love.

I awoke to strong sunlight lancing through the trees and took a deep breath. No dreams had plagued me this night, and I felt better than I had in months. I began to feel hopeful that I could survive, make it through the pain, when I heard the faint calling of my name. It was his voice, and I shook my head with a cry. It had sounded from a great distance, as if his spirit were calling and had been carried away by the wind. Sobbing from the continued torment I was being subjected to in my waking hours I took off again, loping swiftly towards the chain of snowy mountains that were less than a days march away.

I traveled fast, sleeping little, with no destination in mind. No thought but to escape the specters that haunted me. I continued to hear the voice every once in awhile, usually after I had been forced to sleep from sheer exhaustion. I would carry on, forcing myself forward until I could no longer hear it.

I did not shift back to my elven form until I came upon a familiar sight one day. Rolling hills with quaint little doors shone under a pale winter sun. The grass was no longer the bright emerald of summer, instead inching its way towards gold and brown as the grasses faded and died. I thought of Bilbo, alone in his house, and made my decision. I was going to visit him. Perhaps spending some time in this peaceful place would help me to conquer the nightmares. Shaking away a strange feeling of nerves, I knocked hesitantly upon his door, smiling sadly to see the faint scratch marks of a khuzdul rune in the slightly weathered paint. Bilbo had obviously decided to keep this memory intact.

I could hear footsteps nearing the door on the other side and then it swung open to reveal my old friend, smiling with delight at the sight of me.

"Alanta at your service," I said jokingly, earning a small chuckle. "May I come in?"

"Of course! Oh it's so good to see you. Are you here alone?" Bilbo asked as he waved me through the door. We headed for the sitting room, the small hobbit chattering animatedly about this and that while I looked around. The house looked different in the light of day, and different from when last I had seen it. Bilbo's sword hung over the mantle, taking pride of place in the comfortable room. Maps were strewn about on the tables, and a beautiful red journal sat amongst them. I idly flipped the cover open, coming face to face with a drawing of Bilbo and after it, one of the entire company. They looked like Ori's work.

I jumped slightly when Bilbo cleared his throat behind me, not having heard him reenter the room from where he had been puttering about in the kitchen. He smiled fondly as he caught sight of what I was looking at. "Ori drew those for me," he explained, confirming my theory. "I look at them sometimes, wondering what it would be like to see them all again. How are they doing?"

"I'm not sure," I replied, face flushed slightly in shameful embarrassment. "I haven't been back to the mountain. I was healing the forest, and then I came straight here. I was wondering if I might stay awhile. I really don't like to intrude, but I think I need some peace for a bit. I've spent too long fighting off the darkness and now I want to rest."

Bilbo nodded in understanding, forgiveness in his eyes. "Of course. You stay as long as you need. My home is yours."

I nearly cried at his selfless display of kindness, sweeping him up in a fierce hug. The two of us spent the rest of the afternoon talking about all he had done since he got back, carefully avoiding talk of the quest. I was fascinated by his life here, and all the stories of his relatives. If I didn't know better I would think he was somehow related to everyone in the Shire. He had a story to tell about all. Some funny, some sad, but all full of love. When I went to bed that night I felt a feeling I hadn't experienced in far too long. Comfort, and safety. With those thoughts in mind I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Thorin crossed the misty mountains, noting the paw prints of a great cat in the light snow at the pass. She had come this way for certain, and was not far ahead of him. Her path did not seem to be taking any detours, so when the snow disappeared he didn't worry about looking for signs. He could tell that he was nearing the Shire, and decided to go there, to ask Bilbo if he had seen her and also to check how their burglar was doing. They hadn't heard from him since the battle, and he wanted to be sure the hobbit was content. All the company were openly wondering about him, especially Balin and Dwalin. He had even heard talk from some of them making plans to visit, so he figured he would just get a step ahead of them. Maybe he could even convince the hobbit to pay Erebor a visit, wouldn't that be a nice surprise for the company?

Night was falling before he could make it to Hobbiton, so he parked himself at the nearest inn for the night. He would get a good sleep and make for Bilbo's home fresh in the morning.

I woke up to the soft morning sun shining through the round window of the guest room. I had sprawled myself out on the floor the night before, my bed nothing more than a pile of blankets and cushions. Bilbo's beds were much too small for me, but I had assured him this was just fine. It beat the hard ground of the wilds by a long shot. Stretching lazily, I savored the moment, listening to the soft footfalls of Bilbo as he wandered throughout the house. He hadn't always been an early riser, but it seems some habits were hard to break, and long days on the road had opened a whole new lifestyle to him. I was just making up my mind whether to get up and join him when I heard a heavy knock at the door, followed by Bilbo grumbling about inconsiderate neighbors, and did they have any idea what time it was thank you very much. I chuckled, rising slowly and pulling on my clothes from the day before.

Apparently Bilbo decided it wasn't worth the hassle of trying to ignore whatever nosy neighbor decided to pop over, as I heard the door creak open. I was suddenly startled to hear a gasp, followed by a rather loud thump. Yanking my door open, I sprinted in the direction of the entryway, instantly worried when I saw Bilbo sprawled out on the floor in a dead faint. Someone was bent over him, their stature looking rather tall and wide for a hobbit, posture stiff with concern. "Bilbo are you alright?" I cried as I hurried over. I hastened to address the intruder. "Better let me take him, I'll get him settled on the couch." I was already bending over to pick up the unconscious hobbit when the figure raised his head. Eyes of the deepest sapphire met mine, the regal face weary but overjoyed.

Thorin. He was right in front of me. I launched myself backwards with a cry of denial, squeezing my eyes shut and clutching my head as I landed hard on my backside. Why was I hallucinating? Was I going mad? I heard the door close, then a deep grunt as Bilbo was lifted off the floor. The footsteps retreated into the sitting room before returning, stopping right in front of me. I was sobbing nearly hysterically by this point, almost incoherent as I begged for release. "Mahal, please make it stop! I can't take this anymore!"

I did not realize I was rocking back and forth when I felt a startling warmth as strong hands gently began to untangle mine from where they were fisted in my hair. I froze, shaking violently and weeping, my head still bowed to the floor as reality was pushed aside most convincingly.

"Alanta?" the deep voice asked uncertainly. "Please, ghivashel, won't you look at me? I am here. I am alive. I am so sorry I did not tell you right away. I left to look for you the moment Dis told me you were not coming back. Please, I beg you, forgive me."

Still shaking, I looked up, struggling to see anything through the blur of tears masking my eyes. My hands were let go as warm fingers gently swiped the sadness away, clearing my sight. He was still there. I could see his face clearly, feel his warmth, smell his unique scent. "Thorin?" I asked in a whisper, my eyes pleading for this to be real. He answered in the best way he knew how, pulling me close and pressing his lips to mine in a desperate kiss. I sank into his embrace, crying his name over and over in joy between kisses. This was real, it wasn't a dream, or a nightmare. "How?" I choked out.

"Thranduil," he answered with a laugh, shaking his head when my eyes widened in surprise. His expression was clear. 'Don't ask' I continued to stare deep into his eyes, drinking in the sight of him like a balm for my wounded soul. "Alanta?" he asked hesitantly. "Why did you run from me, when I first called out to you in the forest?"

"It was you?!" I exclaimed softly. "I thought I was going mad," I murmured, a haunted look filling my eyes. "I couldn't sleep. I kept hearing your voice in the night, seeing you die all over again. It was agony. So when you found me I was so very tired, I thought it was my imagination tormenting me."

He looked deeply sorrowful. "I am so very sorry for putting you through that. I swear to you, I will never leave you again."

"That's all very nice, but perhaps one of you could tell me what exactly is going on?" We looked up to see Bilbo standing in the doorway, looking rightly peeved.

"It's a long tale," Thorin cautioned, giving the hobbit an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for frightening you."

"Yes well, come sit down and tell your tale," Bilbo ordered him as he turned back around and installed himself in one of the chairs by the fire. Thorin took the other one, and I curled up on the rug by his feet, his hands weaving their way through my hair. He told us all about his recovery, Dis arriving, and the subsequent search, both of us listening with rapt fascination. Several times he was forced to pause when we broke out laughing or asked a question, but in the end the tale was told and Bilbo was looking rather amused. "To think all this could have been prevented with a simple letter," he snorted as he shook his head. "Come, lets make some supper and then we can talk more. Will you stay for the winter, or are you both eager to return home?"

We exchanged glances, replying at the same time. "We'll stay if you'll have us."

"I'll send a note to Erebor explaining," I added. "Don't want a repeat of this situation." Laughter rang around the small house, filling it with warmth and the happiness that comes with good company.

Author's note: After a merry chase across half the world, our grieving couple have finally been reunited. I was very happy to write this chapter, as it puts an end to the sadness for awhile. Thorin and Alanta will indeed be spending a winter with Bilbo in Hobbiton, so next chapter will have us going back and forth between there and the happenings of Erebor. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and thanks again for reading.