AN: Excuse the shortness of this chapter, I just couldn't bring myself to rehash the books or the movies.

Chapter 21 - Acorns & Irises

Glorfindel could not say his light had returned, though others told him it had. He could not count on his own light, for he could not sense it.

He had heard nothing from either Bilbo or Fíli, which was to be expected. And it's not as if he had made communication easy by going to the Woodland Realm.

That's what he told himself, at least.

But here he had a purpose.

The killing had not been a passion of many elves, yet Glorfindel had nothing else to rise for each day.

So each day, he went out into the forest and killed spider after spider. And every day the sickness of the forest had seemed to seep into his bones.

Still, all things ends, and after years of killing, the spiders fled, returning back to their mother.

Still, the sickness remained, and Glorfindel tracked it to its source.

"Prince Legolas, you must turn back," he told the young prince who had happily followed him around these years as if it was an adventure.

His father had only allowed it because he knew that Glorfindel would never allow harm to come to him.

Which is why the prince had to turn back.

"I'm not leaving," Legolas insisted.

Glorfindel sighed, trying hard not to think of how that stubbornness reminded him so much of Bilbo.

"Your father–"

"Quite agrees that you should turn back," King Thandruil himself said as he emerged from the treeline.

"I'm not going back, Ada."

Thranduil rolled his eyes.

Glorfindel's response faltered as Lady Galadriel and her consort stepped out of the treeline.

"If we perish, it is your duty to return home," Thranduil told his son.

Galadriel laughed, the sound of music dancing on the wind, which made the contrast to this place of darkness all the starker.

Dol Guldur.

Celeborn scrunched his nose at the ruins of the old castle, "This place… it reeks of death."

"It is a familiar darkness," Galadriel agreed.

"This is not a nice place to meet," another figure said as he joined them.

Glorfindel eyed the brown wizard and noted with some fondness the field curled into the collar of his coat.

Legolas was the only one among them that honestly wanted to be there.

He was still so young, the youngest among them.

The youngest of a dying race.

Galadriel touched his cheek, startling Glorfindel nearly out of his skin.

She did not say anything, but her gaze told him that she had seen his heart and understood.

He sighed, dropping his head to press their foreheads together.

She stroked his hair, and he closed his eyes.

You must stay present, your sons will return to you, and though much lies in darkness, the futures of our people have not yet ended.

Glorfindel pulled back, sucking in a breath as if emerging from deep waters.

"Where are they?" he demanded.

She smiled that infuriating smile of her, "Trust to hope, Lord Glorfindel, nothing has been forsaken to us."

Glorfindel exchanged an exasperated look with Thranduil while Legolas hung on her every word and Celeborn smiled serenely.

"Let us go," Celeborn said. "This forest has gone too long starved of light."

Glorfindel turned, pulling his sword as he crossed into the fortress first, followed by the king, the lady, the prince, and Celeborn.

It did not take long for them to be attacked by shades.

Legolas had too much fun.

Celeborn extended himself to remain at the prince's back to protect him.

Thranduil was more lethal than Glorfindel had ever seen due to his son's presence.

Galadriel worked in tandem with Glorfindel to destroy the necromancer who attempted to flee and failed to survive.

There was no glory in their victory, only an ache of darkness, like a cured sickness whose memory stays in the lungs.

Cradling his wife to himself, Celeborn seemed truly upset, "How many times must we kill Sarun before he stays dead?"

Galadriel rested her head against his chest, "Evil cannot be extinguished, though it can be defeated for an age."

Glorfindel sighed, "I am not ready for another war."

Legolas deflated, ignoring his father who was fussing over him, looking for any scratch or bruise, "But we won."

Galadriel smiled at the young prince, "Yes, today is a victory against the powers that would harm the free peoples of this world."

Thrandruil hugged his son from behind, "The One Ring remains, lost but not forgotten. Until it is destroyed, Sarun will continue to wage war against all that is fair in this world."

Legolas hugged his father's arm in turn, "When?"

"Perhaps next month," Glorfindel answered. "Or two hundred years from now."

Legolas sighed, the sigh that comes from youth that had yet to be jaded to the passage of time.

It caused a sharp ache in Glorfindel's heart as he thought of Fíli and Bilbo.

Bilbo was in his sixties, his life half over.

Galadriel said they would return to him.

Impatience, it seemed, was not reserved for elflings.

oOo

Fíli was excited when he realised where they were.

"Dah," Fíli said as they hiked. "Are we–"

"I already sent a magpie," Bilbo said with a smile.

"Where did you even find a magpie?" Dwalin asked.

Fíli pointed to the trees, "The ravens follow us too. I'm convinced magpies and ravens follow hobbits and dwarrow around to be listened to."

Bilbo smiled, "I wouldn't doubt it. That or they associate dwarrow with shining things and hobbits with food. Both seem to be appreciated."

"How do you know where we're going?" Balin asked.

"We have barely any supplies and we have goblins after us and there's no human settlements along the road from here to Mirkwood. Where were you going?" Bilbo asked.

"I was following the wizard," Balin said.

They all looked toward Gandalf, "I have a friend, or a friend of a friend, who lives not so very far from here."

"Do you mean the Brown Wizard being friends with Beorn?" Fíli asked.

Gandalf gave him an askance look, "Yes, though he's not overly fond of dwarves."

"Just don't kill any of his animals who he treats as his children," Bilbo said. "Though, it would be best if we reached his home before the sun sets."

"You've met him," Gandalf stated.

"We're old friends," Bilbo said. "Although, last time we came down this side of the Misty Mountains we were further south and Beorn brought us north to visit his home."

"Why were you travelling this way?" Thorin asked.

"We went with Lady Arwen, the twins, and Estel to Lothlorien," Fíli answered. "Lady Galadriel is their grandmother."

"I'm morbidly curious of what would happen if the Mirkwood King was locked in a room with the two of you," Frerin said.

"No," Thorin said. "That's not going to happen."

"Aren't they your immediate neighbours?" Bilbo asked. "Won't you have to trade with them?"

"Honestly, having a hobbit as our King's Consort is the best thing to happen to our potential diplomatic relations," Balin said, sounding almost wistful.

Bilbo slowed, "When you say that, you don't actually mean… I mean it's not a title with any power, is it?"

All the dwarves laughed.

Frerin thumped Bilbo on the back, "Let's put it this way, you're going to become my sister's, who is Queen Regent in my brother's sted, favourite person."

"Thorin?" Bilbo asked.

"If we survive this," Thorin said. "It will be more than a title, but no responsibility will be given to you without your knowledge or consent."

"But you could make your sister-in-law love you forever with every queenly task you take on," Frerin teased.

"You'll become my favourite person with every foreign diplomatic task you take on," Balin added hopefully.

"My sister already loves him," Thorin said. "She claimed him for the Durin line the day they met."

"Tell me your secrets to my sister's stone heart," Frerin asked.

"I cooked for her?" Bilbo offered.

"Cooking doesn't work as well on elves," Fíli noted. "Maybe you should sing for the woodland elves, Dah."

"No," Thorin said with a bit of a pout.

"We'll have to win over the bear first," Bilbo said with a smile to his Heartsong.

"Beorn does like your singing," Fíli noted.

"My dear sister-son, what do bears and our soon-to-be host have in common?" Frerin asked.

"That is the question, isn't it, Uncle?" Fíli asked with a mischievous grin.

oOo

They didn't make it to Beorn's before sunset which resulted in a sprint to the barn while being chased by their clawed host.

oOo

Nori truly loved his family, that being said, it took a herculean effort to herd them away from Thorin and Bilbo.

Sara finally convinced the others to go swimming in a nearby lake while Bilbo and Thorin went in the opposite direction.

Nori sighed, "Why are they all idiots?"

Sara shrugged, "It happens with leaders, people gravitate toward them. Especially, in times of trouble. Besides, how often have you seen your king smile?"

"Hardly at all until Fíli returned to us," Nori said.

Sara smiled, "Happiness is contagious."

Despite himself, Nori smiled back.

oOo

It wasn't the first time they had lain together since their journey had begun, but it was the first time they had enough privacy to do so without restraint or hurry.

Well, as much privacy as an oak tree in an open field of flowers could offer.

Still, Bilbo was a hobbit and skinship was important, especially, with their Heartsong.

He felt as if he could lay his head on Thorin's hairy chest, listening to his heart, for the rest of his life.

Thorin stroked his hair, occasionally tracing over the tips of his ears as his other hand ran over Bilbo's bare back.

"In my culture," Thorin rumbled. "We shouldn't have done this until after we were wed."

Bilbo petted his chest, "In my culture, Heartsongs are as good as. Marriage is just another reason for the community to throw a party."

"Hobbits," Thorin huffed fondly.

Bilbo hummed again, curling against his dwarf, "You are so warm."

Thorin laughed, hugging him close and turning them so Bilbo's back was against the soil and covered by the warmth and weight of his Heartsong.

"Dwarrow were forged in fires."

Bilbo smiled leaning up to catch a kiss on Thorin's lips, his beard tickling his chin.

"You're so soft," Thorin breathed as they parted for breath.

Thorin's hair had created a veil around them, adding to the intimacy between them.

"I love you," Bilbo whispered.

Thorin replied first in Khuzdul before saying, "And I you."

Bilbo wasn't certain he had ever been so happy.

He was beginning to be ready to join with his dwarf again, only to yelp as he shifted against the ground.

Thorin, who had been kissing Bilbo's throat, froze, "Ghivasheluh?"

Bilbo reached beneath himself, his fingers wrapping around a familiar shape.

He let out a small laugh as he revealed the acorn in his hand to Thorin.

Thorin kissed his fingers, "I suppose that's to be expected. We are surrounded by an oak tree after all."

"I certainly am," Bilbo teased.

Thorin began to sit up, "I can grab my cloak–"

Bilbo clung to him, pulling Thorin back down to him, "I'm fine. Us hobbits may not be as hardy as dwarves but we're tougher than we look."

Thorin laughed, "So I'm learning."

They didn't return until dinner after visiting the river.

They both had flower crowns, Bilbo was rather endeared by the one Thorin had woven for him. The base was made from oak twigs and laced with tiny forget-me-nots, which meant true love.

While Bilbo had found purple irises that seemed more regal than ever crowning Thorin's silver-striped raven hair.

Fíli, who knew the language of flowers as well as he knew the common speech, raised his brows but smiled.

Irises represented royalty and love, but more than that, they represented faith and hope —no matter the odds against them.

Bilbo was in no way comfortable with the idea of having a title and rank among dwarrow, but he would never relinquish his claim to his Heartsong.

Forget-me-nots were beyond sweet and romantic, a declaration of love.

Irises also meant love, as well as a declaration of war against any power on Middle Earth that threatened to separate them.

Sara laughed when he saw the irises, "And they say hobbits are peace-loving."

Thorin arched a brow.

Bilbo dug into dinner, "I like peace."

"Sure," Sara agreed. "That's why you agreed to slay a dragon."

Bilbo threw a roll at his head and the boisterousness of the rest of the table soon carried the conversation elsewhere.

If Bilbo had an acorn in his pocket he now hoped to plant it in the soils of Erebor, well that was nothing anyone needed to know until after they solved the pesky dragon problem.

oOo

Despite all that was happening, joy had been regained by Thorin's company, the night before they departed for Mirkwood, they saw the peaks along the Misty Mountains in the far south.

"What is this?" Bilbo asked, he and Sara were the first to see it.

Gandalf stood, "The Beacons of Gondor have been lit."

Thorin pulled the pipe from his mouth, fully tensed but unable to think of anything he could do.

"Is there a siege?" Balin asked allowed.

Gandalf was already preparing one of Beorn's horses, "I don't know. But I must discover why. Evil grows in the South and if Gondor falls, the dragon may become the lesser of your trials."

Thorin loathed the credence this new sign gave to his cousin Dain's refusal to support this journey to reclaim Erebor.

"You can't leave us," Gloin said.

"I must," Gandalf said, leading the horse to the exit. "I will return when I can. Do not enter the mountain with me."

Thorin said nothing, his hope for the success of this journey, lessening.

His fears only grew as they passed under the trees of Mirkwood.

oOo

AN: Thoughts, beautiful black and white Gypsy horses and ponies, or requests for upcoming chapters? Pretty please?