Disclaimer: For the last time, I own nothing that you recognize.

AN:

Guys! I'm so sorry this took forever, but it's the last chapter so I wanted to make it perfect. There will be an author's note at the end about the sequel and a few other things, but there are things that need to be covered before we dive into the ending.

First and foremost, a massive thank you to everyone who read, followed, favourited, and most of all, reviewed. You will never know how much that means to me, and without your amazing support this never would have been completed. The fact that so many people enjoyed something I created, not just the story but my own character, is astounding. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. I've probably enjoyed reading your reviews even more than you enjoyed reading my story!

The quote at the beginning here are lyrics from a song that really started the whole idea of this story. When I first began almost a year ago, my vision was wildly different from what it ended up becoming, but such is the nature of writing something like this. Apparently my own muse is as strong-willed as Gemma is! Still, I hope that I've been able to end this story by bringing it full circle, with that bittersweet ending I promised all of you.

Chapter 42: Every End is a Beginning

They say home is where your heart is set in stone

Is where you go when you're alone

Is where you go to rest your bones

It's not just where you lay your head

It's not just where you make your bed

As long as we're together, does it matter where we go?

—Home by Gabrielle Aplin

"Thorin!"

Pain suddenly forgotten, Gemma raced across the frozen river to where Thorin lay slumped against the ruins. She arrived at his side just as another figure descended the steps and found him as well. Gemma's hand shot to her knife, but she dropped it as soon as she realized that it was Bilbo, awake once more after his head injury. The two of them knelt at Thorin's side.

His eyes were slightly out of focus, and his breathing was laboured, but Gemma could not immediately see what was wrong. "What is it? What happened?"

His eyes flickered to her and lit up when his muddled brain recognized her. "Gemma? …You escaped?"

"Of course I did. Now tell me what's wrong."

Thorin ignored her question again, casting his eyes to the other present Company member. "And Bilbo, you're okay. Thank Mahal for you both. Are you well? Not hurt?"

Gemma sighed in frustration. "We're fine…" She was cut off by another onslaught of pain, stronger than before, and a moan slipped through her clenched teeth. Thorin, slightly more alert now, looked hard at her, and then turned a questioning eye to Bilbo, clearly not expecting to get an honest answer from his fiancé.

"She, er, mentioned something about an evil sorcerer taking over her body, though she was rather unclear as to what that meant."

Gemma waved it off angrily. "I'm okay. It hasn't happened yet, and it won't if I have anything to say about it. But that is really not important right now." She turned a hard eye towards Thorin. "Tell. Me. What. Happened," she ground out, leaving no room for disobedience.

Rather than speak, Thorin lifted his hands and chainmail, revealing the heavily bleeding wound underneath. With a yelp, Gemma sprang forward and pushed on the wound again. "Bilbo! Grab me… something. Something to staunch the flow!" The hobbit removed his torn cloak and passed it to her. Gemma jammed it onto the wound and pushed harder.

"It is alright, my love. A wound this great cannot be cured, but I have made my peace with it. I have slain Azog. The beast will never harm you, nor Kili or any of our friends." Gemma quieted at his words, deciding instead to focus on stopping the steady crimson flow which leaked through Bilbo's cloak and past her fingers. "Gemma, love. Where… where is Kili? Where is my nephew?"

Gemma remained quiet. How could she tell him that his nephew had died? How could she deliver that news when he was on his death bed himself? Yet, her silence was answer enough. Thorin closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"How?" he asked softly, and there was no way she could deny him an answer.

"Bolg. He… Tauriel tried to save him, as did I, but… we failed. I failed. Legolas went after the orc, he will have killed Bolg, surely."

Thorin breathed deeply and opened his eyes once more. "Kili died honourably," he said.

It wasn't a question, but Gemma still replied, "Yes, he did."

"And he is with his brother. I too shall join them soon."

Bilbo spoke up. "Thorin, don't say that. We're here now. The eagles have arrived. We'll get you help, you'll be good as new. Besides, I very much doubt that Gemma would allow you to die, and I would not cross her if I were you."

Thorin chuckled, but ended up heaving. "Ah, Bilbo, I do not doubt that is true, but not even my Gemma cannot stop death."

Gemma glared at Thorin. "Oh, just you watch me. You're not going to die Thorin."

Thorin smiled sadly at her, before returning his focus to Bilbo. "Bilbo, I wish to part from you in friendship."

Bilbo knit his brows together in anguish. "No, no… Thorin you aren't going anywhere. Didn't you hear what Gemma said? You're going to live."

But Thorin just continued on, and Gemma could tell that this had been weighing on his mind, despite all that had happened since. He had made peace with her, but he never had the chance to do so with Bilbo. "I would take back my words and my deeds at the gate. You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me. I was too blind to see it. I am so sorry that I led you into such peril."

Shaking his head, Bilbo replied, "No, I… I'm glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. It is far more than any Baggins deserves."

Thorin closed his eyes briefly, his breath growing more laboured and his skin growing ashen as the blood continued to drain out of him. "Farewell... master burglar. Go back to your books... and your armchair. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more of us valued home and food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world." He closed his eyes, his breathes becoming short.

Bilbo shot Gemma a desperate look, but all that she could do was return it with her own desperation. This all felt unreal, like it couldn't possibly be happening. Yes, they had always known that the odds of death had been great, especially when they entered this final battle. Yes, she had watched both younger Durins die mere moments ago, had come to understand that their deaths had truly happened, had stopped denying it. But this… this was altogether different. This was surely wrong.

"Thorin. Thorin! Listen to me. You're going to be alright." Her voice quavered, and Gemma was certain that the pain in her chest was not from Sauron, but from heartbreak. "Thorin, mon chéri, please, just open your eyes."

Slowly, he did just that, and if Gemma had not been busy keeping pressure on his wound, she would have wrapped her arms around him and sobbed. As it was, she leaned over and left a light kiss on his lips, which he was too weak to reciprocate. Pulling back up, so as not to shift her weight away from his wound, Gemma smiled softly at him through her watery eye. "I love you," she told him, and she was certain that she had never meant anything so much.

"As I love you," Thorin returned with equal conviction, despite his weak voice. "My love for you cannot be hindered by something as petty as death. It could not be deterred by sickness, nor wealth, nor war, nor the distance of entire worlds, and so shall it outlast our final parting."

Gemma made to rebuke him, to tell him that there would be no parting because he was going to live, but Thorin's eyes had drifted closed again and his breathing had slowed. "Thorin," she firmly, palms still pressed against his bleeding wound. There was no reply. Gemma's head shot up and her eyes locked with Bilbo's, the two friends sharing a look of horror. Leaning over, she put her ear above his mouth and checked for breath. There it was, faint but real. He was unconscious, yet still alive and breathing. But for how long? Gemma had seen people die of fatal injuries before; she knew how it worked. Soon his body would shut down, the shock and trauma either killing him outright or creating a catatonic state. Soon after, the blood loss would become too much for his body to handle. The worst part was that his injury wasn't even that horrible. It was bad, yes, but had they been in her world, it would have been recoverable. With surgery and a blood transfusion, it was entirely possible that he could live. Yet here, it was a lethal wound, and there was nothing that Gemma could do to prevent it.

A strangled sob was ripped from her throat, made worse by the building undulation of agony coursing through her body. Gemma had forgotten that she, too, was dying, in a way. It made things easier, though. She would live out her final moments as Thorin lived his, and when he was gone, she would kill herself. It was the only way to stop Sauron from using her body to destroy entire worlds, and it would prevent her from enduring a life without Thorin in this place. Middle Earth was so much better than her own universe in many ways, and so much worse in many others, but it seemed that there was one constant. Life was cruel in every universe, and Gemma had been a fool to believe otherwise.

Bilbo had wrapped a comforting arm around Gemma's shoulder as he also mourned his dying friend. Gemma would have returned the embrace if her hands had not still been glued to Thorin's side. There wasn't a force on this earth, or any other, that could make her move them; she was intent on keeping him alive as long as she could, despite the futility of the action. Instead, she leant her head on Bilbo's shoulder and cried silently, allowing him to rub her back and press a kiss to her temple. Gemma was glad that he was here. She couldn't have done this on her own.

So focused was she on watching the lessening rise and fall of Thorin's chest, Gemma didn't notice what was happening until she felt Bilbo spring away and heard him shout in surprise. Warmth spread through her hands, which at first she assumed was the heat of Thorin's blood. But blood didn't glow, and her hands were emitting a warm silver light, like the burn of a star. It spread up her arms and down her sides, curling tendrils of vapour which wrapped around her like a soft blanket. This was not the same magic that she was used to. It wasn't the awful ripping feeling that generally accompanied portal travel, nor the similarly painful sensation that tore at her gut now. In fact, it seemed to soothe that pain, a gentle breeze blowing out the flames that scorched her insides.

Was this it? Was Sauron's attack complete, was this the moment when her soul would be destroyed and her body would become the vessel of a demon? It couldn't be, could it? Gemma had never imagined that it would feel so… pleasant. She felt a strange weightlessness, and oh, the slight tugging in her chest was actually quite familiar. This sensation lacked all the pain of her previous portalling, but this was the feeling that accompanied it. Which led her to one conclusion: that painful feeling was a trademark of Sauron's magic, and this magic belonged to something or someone else entirely. It belonged to someone far kinder, someone who was sending her away from this place and all its foul memories.

But that meant sending her away from Thorin.

The sudden realization made her stiffen, and a gasp escaped her lips. Then she moved her hands from Thorin's wound, in order to wrap her arms around his body in a desperate attempt to stay with him. Blood seeped out against her stomach as she hugged him to her, and when she looked up, she saw Bilbo staring at her with a mixture of awe and horror. "They're sending me home," she whispered to him, desperation palpable in her voice.

And then she dissolved into stardust, and was gone.

When the battle was over, Bilbo came down from Ravenhill and reconvened with the rest of the Company at the gates of Erebor. In the distance, the horns of Dale droned a song of woeful victory. The battle was over, but so many lives had been lost.

The others were battle weary, but alive, and seemed well enough to remain that way. Bilbo was greeted with a firm pat on the back from Balin as he drew close to them. The hobbit fondly thought that Gemma would have hated that. She'd always been trying to break that habit of theirs, but it seemed it was an innate dwarvish action.

"Dwalin has told us of the young princes' fates," Balin confided mournfully, "but what happened to Thorin and Gemma?"

Bilbo licked his lips and fidgeted, causing Gandalf to speak up as the others furrowed their brows in anticipation of the worst. "Bilbo, where are they?" The old wizard prompted gently.

"They're gone," Bilbo said, and something akin to a bittersweet smile tugged at his lips. It caused the sorrow etched on the faces of the rest of them to turn into confusion. So Bilbo led them inside the old dwarven kingdom, newly regained, to describe all that had occurred.

She bathed in silver starlight, in a place that could be called heaven, if she'd believed in that sort of thing. But she wasn't dead, not in the slightest. She was oh so alive.

Through the bright light came shadows, far off in the distance, but recognizably anthropoid in form. Gemma squinted her eyes at the tall forms, but they did not move, and they did not speak. She counted… fourteen. That number seemed vaguely familiar. Fourteen beings of divine power… yes, Gemma remembered this, from legends told around the campfire on late nights while travelling. She knew these gods.

"Hello," she called into the emptiness. She received no answer. "Are you... sending me home?"

Again no answer, but where she had previously felt disembodied in this empty place of gentle starlight, feeling suddenly returned. This shock of sensation caused her to look down at herself, and what she saw made her breath catch in her throat.

The thought had occurred to Gemma, only a short time ago, that they would hate her, considering Sauron's vile intentions for her. She had thought that they would have wanted her suffering, her death, to save their world. But looking down at her arms, she couldn't believe that anymore. Surely she had won their favour in some unknown way, for them to have granted her such a gift.

"Thank you," Gemma called out to them. The figures remained silent, but a warm breeze swept over her and starlight filled her vision once more. "Thank you."

Only a day later, Bilbo walked the halls of Erebor. Balin kept pace with him, explaining the events that would transpire in the days that followed. "There is to be a great feast and celebration tonight. Thorin Oakenshield will pass into legend. As will Fili and Kili."

Bilbo smiled wryly. "And Gemma?"

"It would seem that she already has," Balin chuckled. "I've heard whispers about her all day; from the Ironfist dwarves, from the Lake-men, even from the elves. The woman who stood between armies in the name of peace, who destroyed the wereworms with an explosion of flame, who captured the heart of a king. They've even come up with nicknames. The Mysterious Woman. The Dark Angel. The Fiery Queen. Though, that last one is rather unfortunate."

Bilbo grimaced in agreement. They walked on in silence for a moment longer, almost reaching the front gate, before Balin spoke again. "Are you sure you won't stay," he asked of Bilbo, for the third time that day.

Bilbo shook his head. "No, no. I... the celebrations, the stories... I understand that's how you must honour him, but to me he was never that. He was..." Bilbo felt his throat constrict, blocking up his words. No, he reminded himself, I mustn't be sad. He tried again. "To me... he was... Well, I think I'll slip quietly away, will you tell the others I said goodbye?"

The old dwarf beside him nodded in understanding, but gestured back to the gate behind them. "You'll tell them yourself."

There stood the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, or rather, what remained of it. Bilbo tried not to focus on that. He made a point to look each dwarf in the eye as Gandalf joined him at the entrance. Bilbo looked over his shoulder, at the journey back home that still lay ahead, and then returned his gaze to the dwarves, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of how very final this all seemed, even though it wasn't over yet. But that thought, that it wasn't over, not for any of them, made him smile once more. "Um," Bilbo cleared his throat. "If any of you are ever passing Bag End... tea is at four, there's plenty of it. You are welcome anytime," he told them with complete sincerity, before adding, "Oh and... don't bother knocking."

Sharing a final chuckle, Bilbo turned away from the group and began to follow the path, Gandalf silent and steady by his side.

"Bilbo!" Bofur's call brought the pair up to a halt. "Do you really think it's true? What you said?"

Bilbo didn't need to ask what he meant. He thought for a moment, and then a grin stretched across his lips. "I do. I have to."

Bofur pursed his lips, looking hopeful, but still unsure. "It's just... it's impossible."

Bilbo scoffed. "Anything that ever claimed to be impossible obviously never met Gemma LaRoche. You heard her stories, the things they do in her world. Fantastic. Impossible. But I trust Gemma, and I have to believe that it is possible. And I do, because I believe in her. Maybe we'll never know for certain, but I believe that she's out there somewhere, in her own world. And he's there too."

The first thing Thorin noticed when he regained consciousness was the sound. Beep. Beep. Beep. Monotone, strange. The second thing Thorin noticed, which really should have been the first thing, was the fact that he was conscious. Conscious and breathing. Conscious and breathing and apparently not dead.

How very unexpected.

Slowly, he pried open his eyelids, which felt crusted and weak, as if he hadn't opened his eyes in several days. In fact, that was probably the case, as the simple act of seeing felt abnormally painful. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. It was probably nighttime, he guessed, though this night was much brighter than he was used to. A subtle but unnatural light shone from his left, and an even fainter glow came from his right. Thorin was staring at the ceiling, which was grey and patterned with little holes and made out of an unrecognizable material.

Closing his eyes again, Thorin assessed the situation. He appeared to be in a bed, in a strange room with a strange ceiling and a strange light leaking in from... what, a window perhaps? His body felt sore, but not as sore as he would have expected (though in fairness, he'd expected to be dead). It mostly felt numb. How did he get here? Had he been captured by the enemy? The thought of suffering the same fate as his father made him shudder (mentally, as his body was too numb and weak to really move). But that wasn't right, that's not what had happened. Thorin wracked his brain, trying to jog his memory. He remembered fighting Azog... no, killing Azog, but being fatally wounded himself. And then... oh yes, Bilbo and Gemma had found him. As Thorin lay dying, Bilbo had reaffirmed their friendship, and Gemma had reaffirmed her love, but had stubbornly refused to let him die. And then... nothing. So where was he, and why was he still alive?

Cracking his eyes open again, he tried to turn his head. It felt heavy, and the slightest movement made his vision swim, but eventually he tilted it enough to look to the right, where the fainter glow and the repetitive beeping noise came from. There was a... a... well, he didn't know what it was. Some sort of contraption stood beside his bed, with a flat part that showed numbers and lines moving in time to the beat it made. Thorin had never seen anything like it, and yet it seemed strangely familiar. The machine was connected to a tube, which ran all the way to his arm. No, not to his arm, into it. Panic set in, but Thorin's body felt like lead, and he couldn't move his arms in order to remove the thing. In fact, he reason, he probably couldn't move his body because of the thing, and whatever it was putting into him.

He cast his eyes around again, this time with purpose, scouting out possible escapes while trying to figure out what exactly was happening. There was a door to his right, but it was closed and seemed impossibly far away. Something else caught his eye; another one of those flat glowing things was mounted on the wall opposite him, but this one had many colours and showed a picture of a serious looking woman who appeared to be talking, though no sound came from the device. The screen, his mind supplied, and then Thorin wondered how he knew that. He had never seen such a device before, he was certain. Perhaps he had heard about it somewhere. No, he dismissed the idea; there was no possible way that something like that existed, not in Middle Earth.

Oh.

But that wasn't possible.

An unshakeable hunch now filling his mind, Thorin turned away from the screen (the television screen, he remembered now) and towards his other side. His breath caught in his throat.

She stood on the other side of the room, silhouetted by the light of the window which covered nearly the entire wall. She looked like a dark angel, bathed in a halo of light cast by the city that spread out on the other side of the glass. And what a city it was; tall building of all shapes and sizes, the likes of which Thorin had never seen before, dominated the skyline with sporadically lit windows, and far below an enormous roadway shone red and white. She was staring out the window with her head bowed and her hands braced on the ledge, her back turned to him. Thorin could tell from the hard line of her shoulders and her stiff position that she was upset.

The sight of her immediately brought relief, though it confirmed his suspicions. Everything would be alright now, because he was with her, the woman he loved most in the world. In any world, be it his world or this one. For he was no longer in Middle Earth, but in the place where his love had come from. But it mattered not, because when he was with her, he was home.

"Gemma," Thorin pushed her name passed his lips, no more than a reverent whisper. He watched her shoulders tense and her body turn towards him slowly.

The look on Gemma's face was unreadable. It betrayed no emotions as she walked to his bedside. It was only when she came close enough and kneeled down beside him that her expression shifted. Her mouth quivered and it was enough to create splintering cracks in her façade. With great effort, Thorin raised his hand up to cup her face. Gemma sucked in a shaky breath and closed her eyes as he absently rubbed his thumb across her cheek. She covered his hand with hers and leant into it, and Thorin felt electricity run through his fingers. It was the same feeling he got whenever he touched her, ever since they had first met, even when they had hated each other. It was the feeling of claiming and being claimed, the feeling of a connection that went as deep as the soul.

Silent tears fell from Gemma's eyes, rolling down her cheek to pool beneath Thorin's fingertips. "I'm sorry," she cried softly, shattering the silence. "I'm so, so sorry."

They stayed like that for a long time. Gemma knelt by his bedside and cried, and Thorin held her hand.

The End.

AN:

Wow, those two words "the end" are so difficult to write. This too is a bittersweet moment for me, just as the ending hopefully was for you. Of course, I'd love to hear what you thought.

Onto the sequel, as you finally know what it will be about. Basically, I'm going to focus on a few things: Thorin's adjustment to the new world (which means silly reactions to things like toasters and the internet, as well as his thoughts on more serious topics, like the idea of warfare through the push of a button, which will probably become far too philosophical, as usual), Gemma's adjustment to coming home (where she is still considered dead, might I remind you), and their adjustment to being in a relationship with each other, now that they are no longer caught in the middle of an adventure and their whirlwind of a romance has settled a little (which means domestics, fluff, angst, and of course, arguing). I might also add in a mystery or a few plot twists, I'm still fleshing out the details. I'd love to hear any ideas you guys might have, and I might even accept some prompts.

However, I'm in my final year of high school, which means stress, stress, and more stress as I'm trying to apply to universities, get scholarships, keep my grades high, juggle a job on top of it all, and just general try to figure out my future. If you'll notice, sleep was not included in that list. So what I'm saying is, don't expect the sequel to be up immediately, and don't expect super regular updates. In the meantime, go ahead and follow me as an author so you know when the sequel is out, or wait for an update on this story. I'll post here to let everyone know when it finally comes out.

Thanks once again, and don't forget to review!