"Right this way."

Balin offered, gesturing towards the room he had just returned from. Evie blinked, trying to collect the inner strength to take this last step forward. After she did this, the rest would be up to Thorin. She had done her part, she had come back… What more was there to say? Her actions spoke loud enough. The ring she wore around her neck like an amulet explained her feelings more eloquently than any speech could. Breathing in, the blonde placed her hands at her sides and followed Balin into the meeting room.

It was not so much a room as a hall – the ceilings were high and the space which opened up before her was much larger than she anticipated. All this seemed like a strange, uncomprehending observation in the back of her mind, as her only focus was on the dwarves gathered in the center of the room. They were arranged around a large table with various papers strewn across the patterned wood. Thorin stood in front, and he had already turned to face her as she entered.

The hobbit stepped forward, gathering the skirt of her yellow dress and curtseying. It seemed the correct deferential motion to address a king with. She did not know what to call him in introduction; how did one speak to a king? Instead of greeting him more personally, she directed her eyes to the stone flooring, her hear t beating wildly in her chest.

"Evangeline"

He breathed, his mouth falling open as if he wanted to say more, but no sound came out. The king looked down at her, agape, and Evie used all her carefully built up courage to force her large grey eyes to meet his startled sapphire ones. Once she was looking at him, however, she couldn't stop. She knew she should direct her gaze downward in reverence, but after five years she could not bear to take her eyes off him – the wiry fullness of his beard, the stern knot of his brow, the careful curve of his nose and the perfect lips they led to... She longed to feel them against her skin again, to know their touch against her own.. She blushed internally at the thought. Seeing him again brought back an immediate and overpowering need – one she felt in every sinew of her small body. It was an aching she sensed in her very bones, and one which knew a single answer.

"My Lord."

She addressed him formally, too afraid to call him king and know the reality of the appellation, although he stood before her as no less. For he looked as she would imagine a king to; tall and strong, ease of command stitched in every muscle. He was dressed simply, however, in a blue tunic. His dark hair tumbled over his shoulders, and she was amazed as she drank in the sight of him that he looked almost the same as the last time they had spoken. His broad shoulders were more set, now, his back a little straighter. The years of traveling had borne down upon him, but now that he was living under the thick stone of a mountain he was at ease once again. He was almost the same in appearance, but had he changed in other ways? Evangeline knew she had been altered over the last five years, and she wasn't sure if it was for the better. Could they truly go back to where they had been? Could they reclaim that moment, that promise…?

They were spellbound, caught up in the sudden presence of one another and unable to break away. It took one of Thorin's companions, who he had been meeting with before she entered, to speak up and break their entrancement.

"My Lord?"

Evie did not realize at first that he was waiting for an explanation of why there was a hobbit standing in their hall.

"May I introduce to the Council, Evangeline Took of the Shire."

Balin spoke up, relieving Thorin of the responsibility. Evie curtsied once more, bowing her head in what she hoped was appropriate respectfulness. She was unfamiliar with the customs of the dwarves, and it took all her strength to tear her gaze from Thorin's. The dwarves surrounding the king introduced themselves in turn: Nrerin, Tekar, Kochar, and Belinir. They were all at her service, although the last seemed almost reluctant to offer his. After this formality had been completed, the prince made king finally rediscovered his voice.

"I was not informed of your coming."

He announced, his voice deep and authoritative. Evie's heart froze in her chest. Did he regret it, then? What if he had changed his mind, even about her visit to Ered Luin?! The hobbit tried to breathe, to fight the panic rising in her throat. After all this time, what if the dream she had been chasing had always been an illusion?

"I apologize, my Lord, I did not want to wait for a messenger and thought to carry it myself."

She explained, her grey eyes flickering up to meet his incalculable blue ones. He was an enigma once again, just as he had been the first time she had met him. They had come so far since that terrible day, but she wondered if there was more of the hardened warrior king in him now than the prince she had come to know after long discussions by the fireside during their travels. She wanted to speak to that dwarf, to tell him of her adventures, her hopes and her worries, to connect with him once more. But he was not present, it seemed. Instead, there was a king, and one who showed no sign of his former passion other than the strange tension in the line of his jaw, which could have been an indication of many things.

"Had I known you were coming I would have prepared something finer," he told her, the lines of his face hardening. "Even so, I would be honored by your presence at dinner."

"Yes, my Lord."

She agreed, not sure of what else to say. She felt the eyes of everyone else in the room on her in varying degrees of surprise and confusion. Only Balin seemed undisturbed by the encounter. He gave Thorin a stern look which Evie thought could have rivaled her mother's most warning glances, and she bit back the question which leapt immediately into her mind. Thorin must set the rules for their interaction. She was his visitor. Ring or no ring, he had given no sign that this was any more than a cordial visit from a friend.

"Balin will show you the mountain. I would join you but I have business I must attend to."

He commanded, a lump growing in his throat, although the hobbit could not know it. He seemed so cold, so removed… His eyes pinned her, just as surely and as destabilizing as they always had, but everything else about his manner was nondescript. There was no embrace, no acknowledgement of their previous intimacy, no warmth… It made Evie's heart feel like a hard knot weighing heavily in her chest.

"I will try to meet with you, but I have much to attend to before this evening."

His words were reasonable, but they hit the healer as if she had been struck. How could he be so calm, so stoic?! She remembered him standing on the mountainside at Moria in a flash that felt more like an idea than a memory. Swallowing, Evie nodded, bowing her head and turning to exit the room before Thorin's seeming indifference and the wide, curious eyes of his advisors. Her cheeks felt hot and her hands balled into fists as she stepped back into the adjoining room, leaning against the inside wall and closing her eyes.

.

Evie breathed, in and out... This would end as it was meant to, and she would survive whatever happened. Even so, that perfect idea of her future haunted her; her life and the happiness the healer was so sure she was on the cusp of... It was so bright and so incredibly clear in her mind that it made her head spin. She and Thorin together... However everything else would work out she could not begin to imagine, but the idea of Thorin looking into her eyes again with that expression of ultimate care and intimate need he had displayed back at her home all those years ago; simply thinking of it made her knees feel like they were about to give out beneath her... He was her greatest fear and her most desperate hope.

Evie pushed herself off the wall, smoothing out the wrinkles of her pale yellow skirt and sighing deeply. Everything would make more sense after they were able to talk privately – away from the judgmental eyes of his advisors and safe from the prejudices of his kind. She promised herself that; if she could only speak to him, of course everything would make sense. If only there was a way she could approach him privately? Evie bit her lip, fiddling with the hem on the side of her dress. .

"By my beard, if it isn't Evangeline Took!"

Evie heard a gruff voice behind her and smiled as she turned to face him, knowing there could be only one dwarf who owned such an accent. She was snatched from her self-concerned scheming by the interruption of an old friend, and the distraction was all too welcome as it liberated her from her muddled thoughts.

"Dwalin!"

She addressed the dwarf, giving him a small curtsy as playful sort of greeting, not quite demonstrating the deference she would have to a stranger.

"Now here's a face I thought I might never see again."

"It was very nearly so," she admitted, watching as the warrior's mouth turned down in displeasure. "But here I am, and it seems as though you, at least, have not changed at all."

She announced warmly, her eyes bright as she tried to ignore the wild rush of emotions still pumping through her heart after her meeting with Thorin.

"Better fed, at least."

"It's true; he grows larger by the day!"

Another familiar voice added, and Evie realized it was Balin.

"Brother!"

Dwalin called to him in greeting, and although there was little family resemblance between the short, kindly white haired dwarf and his taller, dark haired, broad shouldered sibling, she could instantly recognize the kinship between them as the elder brother joined their conversation.

"Have you met Evangeline Took of the Shire?"

Dwalin asked, and the other nodded.

"Indeed I have – we just returned from a rather short conversation with Thorin."

He acknowledged, and as the pair's eyes locked together she could sense the exchange taking place in their shared glance. It made her feel cold inside – did they know something she did not? She wanted to ask, but felt too foolish. What could she possibly say? She had no right to him; she never did. It would be wrong of her to think otherwise, to even hope…

"He is preoccupied, I am sure. We were not expecting you."

Dwalin defended his friend, and Evie bit back her immediate response.

They had not expected her. It was the phrase on every tongue, the idea in every mind... What about her expectations? Perhaps she should never have come. Perhaps this had all been a mistake... No. Her heart had told her to come; had told her it was the right time... And it was. She was sure of it.

"Well... How about that tour?"

Balin offered an alternative to such sorry thoughts, and she readily took it.

"That would be very nice, thank you Master Balin."

.

The two brothers led her through large, cavernous hallways with vaulted ceilings, past beautifully carved pillars and intricate doorways. It was clear that the dwarves were not set upon completing their work quickly – every piece of their new home was molded with great care and thoughtfulness. It was beautiful, but her mind could not linger on ornate etchings or spiraling facings. Her mind was on Thorin, and nothing could arrest the anxiety tugging at her every thought. It was silly of her, to depend so much on the response of one person, and she knew it. Her life would go on without him just as it always had, and although she wished she could promise herself that she would live without the pain of always wondering what her life could have been with him, the hobbit acknowledged that she would always have that dream in her heart, no matter what happened. She did not need him. No, of course not. How could one person ever really need another? She needed air to breathe, she needed water to drink, she needed all the necessities of life to sustain herself, but love? That was not a need. It was a desire – a soaring, floating, heady sort of fantasy which tore at her heart and filled it all at the same time, a flying thing which captured her spirit and let it run free without thought of cause or repercussion – but it was not a need. How could something so wonderful be necessary? No, she did not need him. She wanted him, and she was not afraid to admit it. But her life would go on without him, if that was the choice he made. She had come here and she had shown him that she was ready for the life he had promised her, but if he could not hold true to that promise, she would move forward with a different one.

Working with the Gondorian rangers had taught her to value life and, even more than that, to appreciate those who made it worth living. That was why she was here, and if she forgot it then she had come for no reason at all. Whatever Thorin's sentiments were, Evie had a clear purpose and she refused to abandon it. She would find him and they would speak together privately, and then she would leave. But he had to know how she felt; he had to know why she had come back. If not only for her own peace of mind, then for his – the dwarf should understand that just as a king was nothing without his subjects, a life meant little without personal connection. Loneliness was a burden no one should have to carry.

.

They had gone up many steps, and were now wandering into a smaller space. Balin was holding a candle, and he walked farther into the room so that she could see the gorgeous carvings on the walls, in the shapes of little leaves and other detailed figures.

"What do you think?"

A voice behind her sounded, and Evie almost jumped. Her heart leapt in her throat, and she had to mentally steady herself before she turned to face him.

Thorin stood in the open doorway, framed in shadow. He walked towards her, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room. The king lit another candle, further illuminating the space. They were surrounded by clean green marble, stretching from the floors all the way up to the high ceilings. Evie's eyes trailed across the tiles, and she turned to face the opposite wall, away from Thorin.

"It's beautiful…"

She complimented him, running her fingers along the cool, dappled stone. Color ran through the rock like veins, as if the very walls were full of life. The soft greens and browns reminded her of the Shire, of the great open spaces of the Wildlands. She took a deep breath, enjoying the strange sensation of her fingertips skimming across the unnaturally smooth surface. The hobbit sensed Thorin moving behind her, felt his gaze on her… She wanted to turn and meet his eyes, but couldn't muster the courage for fear of what she would see in them.

Had she turned, however, her suspicions would have been assuaged. Thorin's sapphire eyes were trained on her, indeed, but they demonstrated a forceful longing and none of the coldness she dreaded. He wanted to reach out to her and take her hand, to feel her skin against his just one more time… It had been so many years; they had waited so long… Yet just as she knew his eyes were on her, so Thorin understood that Balin, Dwalin, and Belinir were watching as well. Belinir had followed him upstairs, and one word from him could end everything. One false move, one mistake, and it could all be over. The dwarf's mouth was set in a grim line once more when the blonde finally turned to face him. Breathing out through his nose, the king caught something in Evie's gaze which made his heart burn in his chest. This was a special kind of torment, and, at least for now, there was no escaping it. He would speak to Belinir, and then to her. Tomorrow, perhaps. As soon as possible.

"I must go."

He announced, frowning.

"I have business I must attend to."

Came his curt explanation. Evie should have thought it considerate that he gave her one at all, but it was hard for the hobbit to understand his natural coldness. She was accustomed to the overzealous emotion of Shirefolk and the intense sentiments of the men and women of Gondor; the stoicism of the king seemed frightfully cruel in comparison. She would have blamed it on his kind, but there was no chill in Balin's demeanor, and even the brusque Dwalin had warmed up to her after a time. She knew Thorin had the capacity to be kind, to be affectionate… Yet everything they had built together seemed to have fallen apart. He regarded her with a strange look in his eyes, but she could not place it and therefore feared its origin. He was a puzzle to her, and just when she thought she had matched up all the pieces, they seemed to change form again. She could not see the whole image, yet, and she hoped that perhaps after tonight it might be a little clearer. In any case, he was offering her food. And that was something no hobbit could protest.

She watched Thorin move to the door, but he paused before he exited behind Belinir.

"This will be your room."

He said no more than that – nothing about the duration of her stay or any implication of his feelings. She was not surprised, after everything else she had seen of him that day, yet she wished he would say more. The corner of his mouth tugged up for a split second, betraying some secret sentiment he would not dare express.

"Welcome, Evangeline Took, to Ered Luin."

As she stood there, in her temporary bedroom, surrounded by hard, insensitive stone and dwarves who very nearly resembled its unforgiving coldness, Evie realized that this was most certainly not what she had expected. But then, in life, such things rarely were.

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Author's Note: Thank you for your patience! I'm still computerless, which has been hard, but I've been writing the old fashioned way with a pen and paper and although it makes editing a little tough it's been working out ok. I hope you're all doing well! My thesis is all finished (huge relief!), and I just have finals and then graduation to deal with. So I won't be posting as often as usual, although I'll try to keep you updated as often as I can. Things with Thorin and Evie are finally coming to a head, and I'm really, really excited to share it with you (maybe even in the next chapter!). Thank you so much for all your well wishes for my thesis- I really do believe it helps! 3 I look forward to your comments on this new installment!