Fair warning: everyone has issues and everyone is sort of uncomfortable.

Chapter 14

Homecoming

Homecoming:

1. the act of coming home

Thorin

'You're riding shotgun,' Kate announced when she returned from her almost-fight with her brother. Thorin had divided his time between keeping an eye on his offspring and keeping an eye on his wife. A few times it had looked like the siblings would come to blows over whatever got them fighting in the first place, but Kate had kept a tight hold on her temper.

This didn't mean that the brother was necessarily pacified. 'He is what?'

Thorin would have echoed the sentence if he was in the habit of doing so, being unfamiliar with the expression. Instead he raised an eyebrow.

'You've been evicted from the passenger seat,' Kate informed Jacko. Of course the giant she called a brother wouldn't notice that she repeated her earlier words in slightly different terms so that Thorin would understand. Kate could do subtle if she made an effort. 'And banished to the backseat to slake my boys' infinite thirst for information.'

It was an excuse and a weak one at that. She would have her motives, she always did. Apparently the argument had not gone very well.

'This is still my car, you know,' Jacko Andrews reminded his sister.

'So is the backseat of aforementioned car,' Kate replied sunnily. 'And I bet it doesn't see your backside nearly enough.' The tone became dismissive. She was not going to negotiate. Thorin knew that; he had heard her use it on Dori on numerous occasions. 'Sorry, but I'm really not letting you drive. I've attempted to count the dents, but I ran out of fingers and toes to count them on, so…'

Thorin knew this. He had been dismayed when first confronted with the death trap on wheels. Kate could not be serious about using that to reach their destination, could she? He had rapped on it with his knuckles – and may or may not have added to the number of dents already present – which had not made him feel any better. Fortunately Kate seemed to know what she was doing. He did not say this, but he felt more at ease with her in control of this car than he would have been with a complete stranger. He also had a lingering suspicion that Kate knew this and that it was exactly the reason why she had demanded that it be her who occupied the so-called driver's seat.

Kate waited until they were on the road again and Thoren and Thráin were thoroughly distracting Jacko before she talked. 'How are you holding up?' There was genuine concern in her voice, but also something else. It was like she feared his rejection of the land she came from.

And he did. 'It is very different.' It was the best he could make of it. 'Travel in Middle Earth must seem slow to you,' he observed.

Kate nodded, small smile on her face. 'It does, sometimes. Mind you, you need to pay a lot more attention to the road around these parts. You can't trust the car to find the way for you like a horse can.'

She kept her eyes on the road. The speed with which they were going made Thorin's stomach clench. 'Your world is a dangerous one indeed.' He'd always thought so, even when the thought barely made sense. After all, Kate hadn't been able to handle a weapon when she had first arrived in his world. But now he understood something of it. There weren't bandits or orcs here that could take an unsuspecting traveller unawares, for how could they when everyone flew by? The danger here was in the method of travel itself.

She pondered that. 'I suppose so, in some sense. If you want me to slow down, just tell me.'

Thorin considered it. At some level he was touched at her concern, but he felt he had an image to maintain, mainly for the brother's sake. 'I trust you to know what you are doing,' he replied. He did trust her. In fact, Kate was the only one he trusted in this bewildering world.

Kate checked that the lads were still monopolizing their uncle's attention, leaving him with no opportunity to do some eavesdropping on the conversation taking place in the front of the car. This led Thorin to believe that had been Kate's intention in banishing him to the back.

'You're taking the transition between worlds better than I did,' she said.

It was a remark that hovered on the very edge of the sympathy Thorin so despised. Despite their almost eight years of marriage, the urge to slap it down was still strong. He could not be seen as weak, especially not in the face of a challenging situation.

Kate must have sensed it, because she shrugged. 'Well, considering I had a very embarrassing nervous breakdown within hours of arriving. The title of Mr High and Mighty ringing any bells, by any chance?'

It did, in fact. He was however too much on edge to acknowledge it verbally.

Kate's eyebrows did the dangerous thing they always did when she got annoyed. 'Thorin, please, can we not do this? Not today? You don't have the bloody monopoly on the whole guilt trip, you know? I know this world terrifies you, but don't shut me out.' She bit her lip. 'There might be more of that later anyway.'

He frowned. 'It did not go well?' He had anticipated a truce of some kind. If Kate was angry with someone, she usually had no reservations about sharing her frustrations with the world.

'We're okay,' she answered, eyes still firmly on the road. 'Sort of. It's just that I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about what my disappearance and my choices meant for him, for everyone I left behind. To be honest, I didn't want to think about it and now that we're here, well, it's not as joyful as I would have wanted.'

This got stranger as the conversation progressed. 'Is he not happy to see you again?' Thorin found he had a hard time keeping the incredulity out of his voice. Surely that could not be?

'He is happy,' Kate contradicted. 'Thrilled was the word he used. But it doesn't change the fact that I've put them through hell. I chose that. I wasn't expecting him to thank me for it, but I guess I didn't realise how deep his resentment really ran. Good grief, I can't even begin to imagine how terrified they must have been when I just vanished without a trace. And I was gone for the better part of a year before I even let them know I was still alive.'

Thorin did not like the sound of this. 'You regret your choice?'

The quick glare she sent his way before she focussed on the road again told him he had let more of his own insecurity shine through than he had wanted.

No, he did not doubt her, he did not doubt that when the time was up she would return with him to Erebor. He could rest assured in that knowledge. But all his certainties were subjected to truly unprecedented pressure this day. He could see how well she fit in this world, how much easier she moved, with how much more confidence she carried herself. She possessed the skills this world required of her and she hardly stopped to think about it. And there was the ever-present pull of the family she had in this world. He was not so naïve as to think they would not try to tempt her back. Clearly her brother thought Kate had made a mistake. How could the other members of her family not think the same? And this was a fight he could not fight for her. It was hers and he would have to stand at the side-lines to watch her fight it. And he despised inactivity; he was one of Mahal's children after all.

'It was an impossible situation,' she hissed. 'There would have been regrets either way.'

Thorin supposed that was as much of a consolation as he was likely to get. It must be enough to know that she would stand by him and in the meantime he would have to battle through until he was home again. And he missed it already. He missed the quiet reassurance of the mountain halls, the cold stone under his fingers, the sounds of hammers on anvils. He was not made to be aboveground, certainly not in a world where he was the only one of his kind, because his kind had not been created on this world. He was never meant to be here, just like Kate had never been meant to step foot in his world. He wondered if it had scared her as much as it did him, but knew the question would never pass his lips, not in the present company, not until he was home again.

Kate's knuckles turned white, a clear sign she was gripping the steering wheel with more force than it strictly speaking required. 'I'll tell you what I've told Jacko and then I hope to God that's the end of this whole sorry mess. I love you. I'm not going to leave you. I was never meant to be in Middle Earth and I don't belong there. I probably never will and I've sort of accepted it. Probably won't stop me from trying to do something about it, but there you have it. Either way, it doesn't matter where I do or do not belong, because you just so happen to be needed in Erebor, so that's where I am going to be. I left a whole world to be with you. Did you honestly think I was going to go back on my promise?'

This one at least he could answer. 'No.' His response had the desired effect; she ceased talking at once. 'I never doubted you.' In the privacy of his own mind he could admit that he would never have made an effort to come here if he had not been one hundred per cent convinced of her loyalty. But fears were not always well-founded and that sense of dread had nonetheless done its level best to make itself at home in this past week.

'Good,' Kate said, seemingly determined to make an end of it there and then. 'Then there's nothing more that needs to be said, is there?'

Had they been alone, he might have acknowledged the fact that her words had touched him. Deep down he had always been aware of how much she had given up for his sake – hence his sense of debt to her – but to have her put it into words, to have her say that not belonging did not matter in the long run, because she needed to be where he was, that struck something. There weren't many in the world who had shown him that same amount of loyalty, none who were not his kin at any rate. In some way, they were obliged to stand by him because of their bonds of kinship. Kate had made the choice without such bonds influencing her decision. She could be so flippant about it that even he often overlooked the depth of her affection for him. He did not do so now.

'There isn't,' he agreed. Time hadn't cured him of his inability to speak his heart, especially when other prying ears and minds were so close. The words that needed to be spoken were not meant to be overheard by a man whose attitude Thorin at best considered hostile at the present time.

'Good. Music,' she decreed. 'Who knows, mainstream music might have improved in my absence. Unlikely, but then, you never know.' She raised her voice just slightly, signalling that the secret part was over. Others were welcome to join in.

Jacko promptly did. 'Your taste in music hasn't improved then,' he teased.

Kate snorted. 'Well, forgive me if I don't consider computer produced beats to be even remotely in the same category as music.'

'I rest my case.'

She fiddled with a device whilst sending her twin brother an exasperated eye roll in the mirror. Not a moment later noise filled the car. This Kate had explained. She had warned him that music in her world could just about come from anywhere and that the presence of music did not necessarily mean that a musical instrument was even remotely in the vicinity. It still startled him.

Kate sighed. 'And I rest mine. Honestly, they're calling this music these days? I'm changing the station.'

She did something Thorin did not quite understand, but a few moments later another song filled the small space. Not that he believed this piece had more claim to the name of music, but something about it had caught Kate's interest.

'Is that Taylor Swift?' she asked. When Jacko had nodded in confirmation, she added: 'Not what I was expecting from her.'

Thorin only heard some woman singing about shaking something off. It could not possibly warrant the look of mischief on his wife's face. It certainly couldn't justify that she didn't "change the station" once again, but instead listened attentively.

Or maybe, when the chorus came around for the third time and Kate started singing along, he realised that it shouldn't have surprised him after all, especially not when it became clear that she had slightly changed the lyrics to suit herself:

''Cause the wizards gonna play, play, play, play, play,

And the orcs are gonna hate, hate, hate, hate, hate,

Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,

I shake it off, I shake it off.

Heart-breakers gonna break, break, break, break, break,

And the elves are gonna fake, fake, fake, fake, fake

Baby, I'm just gonna shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,

I shake it off, I shake it off.'

Jacko shot his sister a very unflattering look of disbelief. 'Are you serious?' he asked her over the sound of Thoren and Thráin's laughter.

Kate grinned. 'I couldn't come up with something to replace heart-breakers on the spot. I sort of like the sound of the rest of it, though.' As did Thorin; with little to no effort on her part she had made the corners of his mouth curl up of their own volition. It brought back so many memories of Kate rearranging existing songs to suit the situation. 'Hey, I needed to make the lyrics fit a bit more than they originally did. As they are now, that's practically the story of my life. Who knows, with some effort, I might make something of the rest of the song as well.'

Jacko shook his head; Thorin could see it in the mirror. 'You are such a child, Kate.'

He ignored her mutterings of 'It takes one to know one,' for he knew better. With one melody and some skilful reinterpretation of the words, she had not made him forget his current unease, but she had drained some of it.

He was fairly sure she noticed the grateful glance he sent in her direction.

Helen

It was increasingly hard to not stand by the window on the lookout for Jacko's car. At first Helen had kept busy. No doubt Kate and her husband were staying the night, so there were preparations to be made. Beds needed to be made. No doubt Jacko wouldn't make the drive back home to Jane and his kids that night, so he would need a place to sleep as well. She decided to put Kate and Thorin in the guest bedroom in the attic. Jacko could have his old bedroom and the children would have to share Kate's old one. It was a bit of a tight fit, but it would have to do. After that she was done with that she went out to the shops to make sure she had enough to feed them all.

But eventually she ran out of things to do and there was nothing to do but wait. She picked up a book for a while, but soon realised she had read the same page at least three times and she still couldn't tell what it had been about. She kept on reliving the moment her daughter's voice had come over the phone line, talking to her as she had always done, as if those years hadn't happened, as if it had all been some dark dream dispelled by daylight. Of course it had happened, but it had not felt like it.

And now she was here. How, Helen did not know, nor did she particularly care. Her daughter was back. There was that nagging little feeling in the back of her head that told her that Kate would not be back for good, but she did not want to think about that just yet. She wanted to make the most of whatever time they had and everything else would come later.

And of course she wondered about Kate's husband and children. Helen had never particularly cared for fantasy novels, but when Kate's letters had arrived, she had started reading The Hobbit. It was research of a sort. She had read it with Kate's letters next to her, comparing the book's contents with her daughter's writings. There were similarities, but also remarkable differences. The way Thorin was described was maybe the biggest difference of them all. Helen did not like him in the book, but seeing him through Kate's eyes made him seem more real, more like a human being – no matter how much offence the real Thorin would probably take at that description. She had seen Kate's initial dislike of the guy gradually change to reluctant admiration. And that in turn had transformed into love, weeks before Kate had admitted to it. Helen knew her girl, knew her very well indeed. She wouldn't have chosen as she did unless she really loved Thorin. That didn't mean her choice hadn't hurt, because it did. It hurt every single day and being worlds apart had done nothing to cease her worrying.

And now she was back, on her way home with her husband and three children in tow. Jacko hadn't mentioned them other than to inform her three such children existed. She didn't know if they were boys or girls, never mind their names and ages. But she wanted to see them, she desperately wanted to see them, to get to know them.

The minutes turned into hours, but they were going by with all the speed of a hibernating bear. It was her own impatience that made it feel this long, Helen knew, but that knowledge did nothing at all to make time fly by any faster. Eventually she ended up just doing chores around the house, things that didn't necessarily needed doing right away, but that kept her busy.

It didn't keep her occupied enough not to hear the sound of Jacko's car pulling into the street. She was upstairs, changing the light bulb in her bedroom. It wasn't the only one, but it had been broken for a couple of weeks now and she had kept on delaying it. It was just a stroke of luck that her window overlooked the street.

Kate was the first one to emerge from the dented vehicle. She had indeed been driving. Not that it surprised Helen much; Kate had never approved of her brother's skills behind the wheel. And though it was hard to see from a distance, Helen could have sworn her daughter had not changed much. Her hair was longer, almost down to her waist, plaited into a long braid that for some reason hadn't fallen out yet. Her clothes were a bit odd, she noticed, as if they were made by someone who'd only had the vaguest notion of what people dressed in around these parts.

To her surprise, Jacko had been banished to the back seat, because the man who had occupied the passenger seat was decidedly not her son. He was about the same height as Kate, give or take an inch or two. He didn't seem much at ease. Deer caught in the headlights was Helen's first thought.

She didn't spend more time looking; soon enough she would be able to see them up close. The need to hold her daughter in her arms again had been growing steadily ever since she had first heard Kate's voice through the phone and she had practised her patience long enough.

She made it to the door apparently just before Kate could ring the bell; her hand was hovering over it.

'Hey, mum.'

Helen briefly registered the sheepish and almost awkward look on Kate's face before she caught her daughter in a hug that probably crushed the air from both their lungs. She didn't care. The impossible had happened. That was all that mattered.

Unhappy noises made a quick end to the embrace Helen could have kept up for at least a couple more hours.

'Mum, we're crushing your granddaughter.'

That made her let go. She had completely failed to notice the child in Kate's arms, the child that was now looking at her with clear blue eyes. The unhappy noises had stopped the moment she got the space to breathe. When she saw she had eye contact, she quickly buried her face in Kate's hair.

'She has your nose.' Stupidly it was the first thing that came out. It also happened to be the first thing that sprang to mind.

Kate smiled. 'So she does. Mum, meet Duria.' She gestured with her free hand for the others to come forward and introduced her husband and her two sons, Thoren and Thráin. The names were foreign, but the faces looking at her were not. The eldest was doubtlessly her daughter's son; his red curls left little room for doubts. The other lad took after his father, but the grey eyes looking curiously back at her were Kate's.

'You're our grandmother,' he established, looking as if he wasn't sure what to make of it. 'We've never had one before.'

'Thráin, manners!' Kate scolded.

'We've got uncles though,' Thoren spoke up. 'Though adad doesn't like them very much.'

'But he likes them better than elves,' Thráin added.

Kate rolled her eyes. 'So much for trying to teach them some manners,' she remarked. 'Sorry about that. May we come in?'

The shock must have turned her into a fool. She was doing this all wrong and Helen gave herself a thorough mental talking to. 'Yes, yes, come on in.'

They did. The boys were doing so with eager faces, chatting so excitedly that Helen had trouble keeping up. Kate followed them, indulgent smile on her face and her daughter on her arm. Jacko, who followed her, did not share in the happiness his mother felt. There was a deep frown in his forehead that she knew all too well; he had worn it for most of his teenage years. But the he'd had a good reason for it. It was however entirely out of place this day.

'Later,' he said in answer to her questioning glance as he passed her. It was a tone he had always shared with Kate; the one that suggested that no amount of begging, bartering or blackmailing was going to tempt him into parting with his secrets before he was good and ready.

That did not bode well.

Thorin was the last to enter and he did so with a respectful nod in her direction. Helen honestly did not know what to make of him. He had been polite when introduced, had uttered the pleasantries that were expected of him, but beyond that, he had kept his mouth firmly shut. Not that he needed words to convey his displeasure. His posture practically radiated it. He did not want to be here and he had no reservations about making that known. Her first impression of him was that of a cold and resentful person and she could not for the life of her imagine what Kate had ever seen in him. Of course she did know; she had read the letters after all, but there seemed to be little resemblance between the Thorin she had described and the one currently marching through her front door.

Good God, how am I going to manage this?

Kate

She couldn't breathe. It felt as if there was a large rock on her chest, making every breath she took more of an effort than something that went without thinking. Her mother was so nice. In fact, Kate would go as far as to say that she was too nice. She wasn't angry, she wasn't even irritated, she got along wonderful with her lads and even normally shy Duria had started to warm up to her. To top it all off, she had cooked Kate's favourite meal for dinner. That had done it. Her vision swam with tears and she had to invent a trip to the car to fetch something to get some air. All of these things just added up into one pile of guilt that started to take on the size of the Misty Mountains. She couldn't see over it and she certainly couldn't see a way to the other end. She had a lingering suspicion that her road wasn't necessarily any more pleasant than the trip through Goblin-town.

The fresh air helped a bit. At the very least it made her feel a little less trapped. There was a car nearby and she still had the keys. If she needed a way out, it was there for the taking. And Maker help her, but she was tempted. Everything in her yearned to get in, find a stretch of open road and just drive until she had forced her mind back into a semblance of order. But that was something the old Kate would have done. She wouldn't have thought twice. The old Kate would already halfway back to Cardiff by now. She had always been good at running.

'What a mess.'

Saying it out loud did not make any of it better. The whole way she had been anticipating a shouting match or at the very least accusations and sad looks. She had earned those many times over. Jacko's shouting she could match. She was good at that. Many things might have changed in the past years, but that had not. But she was completely and utterly defenceless in the face of so much kindness.

Why wasn't she angry? Why didn't she even ask why?

Deep down Kate was fairly sure she already knew the answer. Her mother was kind, had always been. It was hard to pick a fight with her. And Kate considered herself something of an expert on the subject; picking fights came naturally to her. But that was a trait that she hadn't gotten from mother's side of the family. Her father was the one that had always excelled at arguing and Kate had always taken after him more. Though not in the walking out on the spouse department, she reminded herself.

No, but you're quite good at abandoning your family, a nasty little voice in the back of her head taunted.

She squashed it. She'd had the same discussion with herself for years and she never got close to a satisfactory conclusion. Said conclusion was unlikely to happen today. As it was, her current problems only fed the voice of what she suspected to be her conscience; it hadn't shut up since her fight with Jacko. Then again, if she had chosen differently, she would have felt guilty over leaving him. Guess me and my conscience are going to be at odds till the day I die, then.

'Get a grip,' she told herself. 'Time to get a move on. You can handle pesky elves and annoying men and stubborn dwarves. You can do this.'

If anything, leaving Thorin and her brother unsupervised for too long was a disaster waiting to happen. Neither liked the other much and with good reason. Jacko had been unbelievably rude – what had gotten into him? – and Thorin of course had turned selectively mute. It was how he coped with a world that increasingly bewildered and frightened him. Kate knew this, but she was also uncomfortably aware that it hadn't made that much of a good impression on her brother and mother. Of course the latter was unlikely to mention it within hours of meeting him, but she would bring it up eventually. Worse, she would express concern for her daughter's situation and Kate could not promise herself she would not explode.

'What a mess,' she repeated. It was a good thing the street was empty; the last thing she needed was to be mistaken for a lunatic.

There was no disaster that met her when she came back in. Thoren and Thráin had attached themselves to their grandmother, getting underfoot and in the way as she tried to cook. Not that she minded; she was answering the boys' questions patiently and with a smile so wide it threatened to split her face in half. Jacko was setting the table. Thorin had retreated to the sofa with Duria. Someone who didn't know him might have called him stoic or cold, but Kate knew better. He was way out of his comfort zone.

'Ah, there you are,' her mother said. 'Just in time. I'm about done.'

She forced her face into a smile and mentally prepared herself for a meal that would mainly consist of damage control with a side dish of awkwardness. 'That's me, perfect timing,' she quipped. 'Lads, that's quite enough of that. Let's get you on a chair.'

'But we can help!' Thoren said. 'We can carry the pans.'

'I'm sure you can,' Kate agreed, privately thinking that a combination of her lads and hot objects was not such a good idea at all, certainly not in the foreseeable future. 'But how will you reach the table, eh? You've got a bit of growing to do before you can try that.'

'Like Uncle Jacko,' Thráin nodded enthusiastically. 'Amad, can I get that big when I grow up?'

This time the smile wasn't forced at all. 'We'll see about that. It's not something you can control, sweetheart. Besides, you'd hit your head on all doorposts. Come on now. Time for dinner.'

Nothing made a dwarf focus like the promise of food and her sons were no different. Thank the Maker for small mercies. Now it was just a simple matter of surviving dinner and hoping that no one would do anyone else a harm. Thorin was generally well in control of his temper, but he took offence to anyone attacking his family, and whether that attack was verbal or physical mattered little. And Jacko hadn't exactly done a lot of cooling off by the looks of things.

What does it say about me that I'd almost rather go for another round with Thranduil than face this?

It appeared that she was in luck though. Thorin was on his best behaviour, which in this case meant that he focussed mainly on his food. Of course it would help his case if he actually tried to make small talk, but Kate also knew to keep her goals realistic. Eventually they might all warm up to each other, but it was going to take time. And patience and patience and did I mention patience yet?

In the meantime she would have to do the talking for him. She asked Jacko about Jane and learned that he had gotten married about eighteen months after she had disappeared. He had two kids of his own, a son called Archie, who was about Thráin's age, and a baby girl called Susan. From what she heard, he had found some happiness of his own. Good for you, brother. You deserve it.

'I'd love to meet them,' she admitted. 'Where do you live anyway these days? I'm assuming it isn't Cardiff?' If so, she liked to think he would have mentioned it before now.

'York,' Jacko replied. 'It's close to Jane's parents.'

Kate was about to call him out on the fact that it wasn't exactly close to their mother and it was hardly fair to leave her all on her own, but she stopped herself just in time. It wasn't as if she had any right to accuse someone of that, not when she had moved to a different world entirely.

'I see,' she said instead. 'Speaking of Cardiff, what were you doing there anyway? You mentioned work?'

'I'm a private detective,' her twin explained. 'A case took me there.'

Now that took her by surprise. 'Imagine that!' she exclaimed. 'My brother has become a regular Sherlock Holmes.' Not that she could see Jacko in such a hat, mind. 'Bit of a career switch, though. I thought you had your heart set on becoming a politician.' Of course, her information was over eight years out of date.

He snorted and the look he sent her was so cold it chilled Kate to the bone. 'That was before my sister disappeared off the face of the earth.'

That hurt. Kate was well aware that her disappearance had Consequences, and not just for her, but it was quite something else to have her nose rubbed in just how it had shaped the lives of those she had left behind. And hello again guilt, my old friend.

Firmly reminding herself that having a fight in front of her kids was not a good idea, she opted for flippancy instead. 'You might want to take that up with Gandalf. He's kidnapper extraordinaire as far as I am aware.'

'He's not the one that kept you away, though.'

She got it. She really did. 'No, that was my choice.' Impossible though it had felt. And it still kept her up at night. It still made her chest ache and her eyes burn. It wasn't easy. It had never been. 'Jacko, can we not fight? I prefer to have battles of words with the likes of Thranduil, not with you.'

Jacko clearly had a thing or two to say on the matter and Kate was okay with fighting it out when they didn't have an audience. She knew her brother. He could get very angry and harbour grudges with the best of them, but once the air was cleaned, he could usually let it go. It was the act of clearing the air that was the problem.

Fortunately, her mother hurried to the rescue. 'You remember Laura?' she asked.

Kate nodded. Of course she did. They had grown up together, had been very nearly inseparable since the age of five. 'Yes,' she said, wondering where her mum was going with this. 'Does she know where I ended up?'

Kate hoped she did. Leaving her best friend in the dark would be nothing short of cruel. And Laura could deal with the crazy side of things. Of course Kate had always argued that was because Laura herself wasn't entirely sane, to which aforementioned friend had always retorted Kate should take a good long look in the mirror. Given the fact that I ended up married to Thorin Oakenshield, she may have had a point.

Jacko nodded. 'She does. She's also taken your cat off our hands.'

'Are we talking about the same Laura? She hated Fidget.' It had been nothing short of a nightmare to even get Laura to look after him for two weeks and it had involved a lot of begging and downright bribery. Hell would have to freeze over before she would so much as consider to keep it.

'She liked to have a reminder of you,' Jacko replied coldly. 'You having gone missing after all.'

And another low blow. Kate supposed she deserved that one. That didn't mean it didn't hurt. It only meant that she would bite her tongue and let it wash over her. She could only hope Thorin would be wise enough to let it be. The low growl and the fists below the table indicated otherwise though.

Again, her mother interfered. 'She wrote a story about you,' she said, amused smile on her face. 'A fan fiction I believe it's called?'

As distractions went, this was quite a good one; Kate all but choked on a potato. 'She did what?' Really, Laura? Really?

'Based on your letters,' her mother confirmed, dispelling all hope Kate might have had that maybe she had misheard. 'I can't quite recall what she called it. Something about the Written Word, I think?'

Given that her letters – her private letters no less – had been used to build a fan fiction on, that title wasn't much of a surprise. However, everything else about it was. 'Bloody hell,' she said. It was the most eloquent she could manage.

'I haven't read it myself,' Jacko said. 'But I've had a look at her review section and people appear to like it. Laura got quite a few remarks saying the story felt rather realistic.'

Kate snorted. 'Well, maybe because that's what it was. I didn't make it up, you know. And I certainly did not write those letters for public consumption. Even if it is on a fan fiction site and no one will consider it has anything to do with the actual reality.' She ran her hand through her hair, dislodging strands from her braid in the process. Well, it had started to fall out anyway. 'Maker be good, what in the world did she think she was doing?'

Of course, it hardly came as a surprise that Laura was still reading fan fiction; she was the one who had introduced Kate to it in the first place. But she had never been much of a writer. Kate doubted she had the attention span to produce more than the occasional one-shot, never mind a story as long and complex as hers.

And what the hell was it even supposed to mean? Why even tell the story? No one would believe it was real, no matter how realistic it may come across to the readers. Stories like her, they never happened. That in itself had been banished to the realm of fan fiction long ago. That was the very reason why it wouldn't stand out, why no one would think anything of it. And still it set Kate's teeth on edge. She had shared her stories with her mother and her brother because she owed them the truth. Other than that, they were nobody's business but her own.

'Mourning,' Jacko replied immediately.

Well, that didn't make a lick of sense. 'I'm not dead.' And they could not have believed that she was, could they?

'You were to us,' he said. Again, the answer followed right on the heels of what she had said. He didn't even think about it. That rather implied that Laura hadn't been the only one to do some mourning. All of a sudden the room felt too cold.

Out, I need out! The urge to flee had been building ever since she set foot inside the house and by now it was almost overwhelming. It took her most of her self-control to remain in her seat. If not for Thorin's hand gently taking hers beneath the table the effort might have been beyond her. He didn't talk much, and by the looks of things it wasn't all that easy for him to keep his promise to her to let her sort out this mess. Kate appreciated it; the last thing they needed was Jacko and Thorin ending up in a nasty brawl in her mother's house.

'That is enough.' When their mother raised her voice everyone always stopped, maybe because it was such a rare occurrence. 'I'll not have this sort of thing in front of children at my dinner table, thank you very much. Jacko, if you want to sort this out, you can do that later, after you've had time to cool off.' It was remarkable how quickly she could make them all feel like naughty children. Kate had sort of forgotten that.

Thoren had leaned over towards his brother, wonder written all over his face. 'That's amad's voice,' he said excitedly.

Thráin nodded. 'It's scary.'

Or maybe she hadn't forgotten; after all her sons recognised the tone instantly. So perhaps she had unconsciously channelled her mother all these years. Something about it felt oddly reassuring. And right now, reassurance was a thing she was in dire need of.

Helen

The rest of dinner passed without further incidents. Jacko seemed to have decided to focus his efforts solely on his food, which was perhaps for the better. Afterwards he had gone outside for a long phone call with Jane. Helen understood him to a certain extent. When Kate disappeared he had not left a stone unturned in his attempts to find her, so when she wrote she would not be coming back, that must have felt like a betrayal. Of course Helen doubted Jacko was even aware of this, but it fuelled his reactions all the same.

It was heart-breaking to watch and disturbing to see how passive Kate took it. Before she was taken, she would have fought him tooth and nail if he talked to her like that and never mind that she was in the wrong. She never sat back and let him rage at her. And this unsettled Helen almost more than the fact that her daughter had mysteriously returned from magical places. What had happened to her?

And she honestly tried not to lay blame down at Thorin's feet before she was in possession of all the facts, but something about him made her feel ill at ease. Whether it was just his persistent silence that unnerved her – he hadn't spoken more than twenty words altogether for the whole evening – or the way he looked at everything like the world had terribly offended him, she couldn't say, but there was decidedly something. Was it his influence that had turned her lively daughter into this quiet woman who looked like a lamb that was led to slaughter?

It was as if her thoughts had summoned Kate to the kitchen; she poked her head in barely a second after Helen had finished the thought. 'Is it okay if I come in?'

'Of course! Tea?'

Kate's face lit up. 'I'd love some. I haven't had a cup all day, what with all the last minute preparations and another tug of war with the wizard.' She sat herself down at a kitchen chair. 'Now there's a sentence I wouldn't have imagined saying ten years ago.'

It did not take a genius to notice the tension still present in the set of Kate's shoulders, but the smile seemed real enough and so Helen just went with it. 'Having a tug of war with a wizard or not having had a cup of tea all day?'

'Take your pick,' Kate laughed. 'Although Dori makes sure I never really run out of tea and Nori's forever bringing home exotic flavours from all over. Whether or not he's paid for those is another matter.' She must have noticed the astonished look on Helen's face, because she added: 'Believe me, it's best to just let it go. If Dori hasn't lectured the habit out of him by now, we can safely assume he will never change.'

'Your life is so different now,' Helen remarked. Of course, that was the understatement of the century.

Kate nodded, smile gone again. 'Hm, I suppose so.'

'You look tired,' Helen said as she handed her a steaming mug. Maybe it was too soon for this, but something wasn't right about Kate and her family. And everyone knew Helen wasn't one for poking things with a stick, but this was her only daughter; she was entitled to know if she was happy and safe. No, she needed to know if she was happy and safe. She could live with Kate's absence – although there would always be this piece of her missing – if only those two things were guaranteed.

'Travelling preparations and a day of driving will do that to a body,' Kate answered. She wrapped her hands around the mug. 'The lads are quite exhausted, poor things. They've been bouncing with excitement since we told them we were going a week ago. Thráin could barely keep his eyes open just now. Mind you, they still insisted on a bedtime story.'

Well, that explained where Thorin had gone.

'And Duria?' Helen asked.

Kate smiled. 'Sleeps like the dead. She won't wake before morning. Small mercies and all that.' She looked up. 'If your stories are to be believed, Jacko and I never much believed in the whole sleeping-through-the-night-business when we were little. So, you know, from someone who's finally realised what that means, sorry.'

There was a weight to that sorry that suggested that she was apologising for another thing entirely.

'Sorry for that or sorry for something else?' she therefore asked.

Kate took a while, studying the table with surprising intensity, before answering. 'For everything,' she said softly. 'For not letting you know sooner, for not coming back, for…' She bit her lip. 'Just sorry. I know I've put you through hell and I wished it could have gone different.'

It was telling that she didn't say she wished it had never happened at all.

'I'm just glad you are back now.' It wasn't enough, not nearly enough. If she had her way, she would hold her daughter forever, never let her out of her sight again and never mind the fact that Kate was an adult now, a grown woman with children of her own.

'You know that it is temporary, yes?' Kate, for lack of a better word, looked vulnerable. 'I mean, we've got six weeks, but after that, we'll go back. Before the kingdom descends into chaos.' There was flippancy at the end, and something that sounded apologetic. And that was the Kate she knew, utterly awkward with anything approaching emotional vulnerability, something for which they had John Andrews, Robert Smith and Marc Cooper to thank. Helen missed that little girl who wore her heart on her sleeve. Kate hadn't done that in a long, long time.

She nodded. 'I know.' She had known right from the start, but six weeks was still better than she had dared to hope for. 'Or your kingdom descends into chaos.' And wasn't the thought of her little girl as a real queen a strange one.

Kate scoffed. 'More Thorin's kingdom than mine, mum, honestly. I'm just the mannish girl he chose to marry in a temporary stroke of insanity. At least, that's what some folks like to think. And then of course there are the sensible people, who really know better than all that, but they're still a little outnumbered.'

Those words did not sit well with Helen. 'Are you happy, Kate?'

To her surprise, Kate's forehead wrinkled into a frown and her eyes narrowed in suspicion. 'Mum?' she asked, an invitation to elaborate.

Well, she'd started now. She might as well finish. 'Thorin doesn't seem like a nice sort of fellow.'

She'd struck a chord. She knew it before the last word had left her mouth, because the fire in Kate's eyes was back with a vengeance. 'Bloody hell, you're sounding like Elvaethor when I'd just met him,' she complained. 'And you're wrong, whatever the hell it is you are insinuating.'

Helen wasn't the type to fight with people, but then, Kate had always excelled at arguing. Strange how such a thing had slipped her mind. Her absence had made her remember Kate fonder than she was in reality. True, Kate could be compassionate and kind and carefree, but she could also be tremendously headstrong and difficult and argumentative. Picking a fight with Kate was easy, because she always seemed to be looking for one. And true, she had a lot to be angry about, but lashing out, taking down everything in her path had never been the right way to go about solving her problems. Helen knew this and she knew that Kate knew it too. It was just that she did not always act on it.

'He barely speaks, Kate,' she pointed out. 'He glares at everything and everyone.'

'Yes, because he is scared!' Kate growled. 'Maker be good, I've had this argument with Jacko already. I'd hoped not to have it with you as well.'

This made Helen stop. 'Scared?' That was decidedly not the impression the King under the Mountain had given her. Cold, indifferent and angry she had concluded based on her own observations. Not even the content of Kate's letters had enabled her to see him in a different light.

Kate bit her lip. 'We're… we're remarkably alike, you know? We don't do emotions, especially not in front of other people. I tend to shout to cover it up, Thorin just… withdraws. And he's been dropped into a world that frightens him, that is so different from what he knows. You have no idea. And then there's the guilt, because he has somehow gotten it into his head that my being in Middle Earth is his fault and his alone and he's expecting you to be mad at him instead of me, which is ridiculous. And all the while he's afraid you'll do something that will make me stay here. Oh, and if you so much as hint at knowing any of this, then I have never told you a single thing and you have worked it all out on your own.' It was truly quite astonishing how few times she actually stopped for breath during this speech.

And it left her speechless. Kate's words made a strange sort of sense. In a way, Kate was indeed not much different. She became irritable in situations that most people would be uncomfortable in and that irritation covered up the lack of confidence she felt. It had been like that for a long time.

Still, it did not explain everything. 'You're quieter than you were,' she observed.

Kate shook her head. 'Not usually.' She caught Helen's uncomprehending glance and added: 'Thorin doesn't have the monopoly on guilt, you know.'

I know I've put you through hell and I wished it could have gone different. Guilt indeed. And it wasn't without ground, Helen knew this. There had been days and nights when she had wondered why and how and then she'd wondered some more about the why. Truth be told, she still wasn't entirely clear on that. She just couldn't it. In her letters Kate claimed that she loved Thorin, but there was precious little evidence to support that theory thus far. There were no signs of affection that she had been able to notice. She had seen her daughter in love before, however unfortunate those times had turned out to be, and it had been entirely different. It had brought out a lighter, more carefree side at the time. There had been none of this tension she detected today. Guilt may play a part in that, but it couldn't be all, could it?

'I see,' she said, not seeing at all.

Kate smiled wryly. 'Do you indeed?' She looked at the mug again. 'Few people do.'

Adopting some of Kate's infamous sarcasm, Helen silently wondered why. 'Thorin and you do not come across as a regular couple,' she replied diplomatically.

'We don't,' Kate agreed. 'But we work and we work well.' And oh, Helen knew that look on her daughter's face. I'm going to tell you something you probably won't like and don't you dare have any critique. She'd seen that face numerous times and every single time she had uttered something other than a completely positive response, she had found herself with an enormous row on her hands and with no clue how exactly that had happened. 'And I love him, mum. I don't need your approval, or even your understanding, but I'd like it if you did not suggest in any way that he is bad for me. He is not. I am tired of hearing the same thing over and over again from people who don't know the first thing about it.'

'Maybe I don't,' Helen admitted. And she didn't. She had not seen Kate for eight years and she had changed. They both had and trying to reconnect after so long, after parting as they had, it was not an easy thing. There were so many questions, so many things unclear. She could hardly ask it all. Kate had never taken kindly to people prying into her private affairs. Her own mother had hardly been an exception to that rule. 'But I know you. And I know you always wanted the old-fashioned romance for yourself.' It was one of the few things she had never bothered to hide.

'Well, that didn't exactly work out,' Kate commented nonchalantly. 'I guess Marc rather proved that romance isn't all that it was made out to be.'

'Marc was just one man,' Helen pointed out.

'Maybe so,' Kate said. 'Just not my kind of guy, as it turned out.'

'So, Thorin isn't one for romantic gestures.' Trying to make Kate part with her secrets was something that required a lot of practise and a lot of patience, but Helen always thought she had mastered the art.

'He's not.' Kate's eyes had narrowed again. 'But he's there. He's always going to be.' She put her empty mug back on the table. 'I rather think that's a bit more important than flowers and poetry, don't you?'

It left Helen with a lot to think about, even long after Kate had said her goodnight and had gone up to bed.

Things are going to get better, I promise. So, Thorin and Kate have a while before they have to return home. Are there any things you want to see them do while they've got the chance? I can't promise I will write all of it, but I will try to work in what I can.

The song Kate rearranged is of course Shake It Off by Taylor Swift.

As always, reviews are more than welcome.