Chapter Text
Epilogue
ooo
Emerald green fields stretched across the view to a thriving Dale with its patchwork of old and new from the city-state’s walls to its slowly rising buildings. Pastures full of cows and sheep crisscrossed with fields of vegetables, fruiting trees, and vineyards. It felt natural in areas and overly organized in others—the result of man and hobbit techniques in horticulture mixing and competing.
It almost felt like she had a bird eye’s view of the Shire.
Llorabell leaned over the battleton as horns blared out below. Multiple braids dropped into her view and she tugged them back behind her ears. Her fingers paused on the wedding bead and a soft, helpless smile stretched across her lips.
A figure in white on the back of a white horse galloped up the bridge into Erebor’s foyer. Gandalf had come to visit.
The hobbit lass dropped her hand to her abdomen for a second before swiping her front as if fixing the thick wool dress. She really should tell Fíli why he had been particularly paranoid about her care lately. It wouldn’t do for a nosy courtier or wizard to announce the fact before she had the chance.
“Lady Vera has cornered Thorin again.”
Llorabell turned and raised a brow at Heather. Her cousin had her curly hair done up in her own array of dwarven braids. The newest addition to them ended with a wedding bead of rose gold that dangled just below an ear.
“Is that something I should be concerned about?” she asked her half of the royal spy ring, not that anyone but Nori seemed to realize that fact.
Heather shrugged. “You more interested in the going ons of our little village of smials? Flambard decided to purchase a pig for some reason.—He’s no place for the thing.—The Everest’s and Mulberry’s are settling into their new homes well enough, though one of the younger girls seemed to have caught the eye of a dwarven merchant that won’t stop visiting. The Greenhands have figured out a design for the central park and will be asking if you can convince one of the elves to give us a tree that could grow into a proper party tree. Adalgrim and Millaray are expecting another baby so yours will have a playmate.”
“Heather!” hissed Llorabell, her gaze jumped about but the top of the battletions didn’t have guards standing around hours on end and the regular patrol was nowhere in sight.
Her cousin rolled her eyes. “Just tell the poor dwarf already. It’s obvious the bond’s telling him about the baby. He just hasn't a clue what specifically it's trying to say.”
“I’ll tell him,” Llorabell insisted, hand rising to fiddle with her wedding braid. “I just...been a little worried. At least at first since we only have those ancient tablets from Moria that claim we’ve...you know, procreated together in the past.”
“Aren’t you already showing or is that just the silly layers you’re wearing more and more often now?” Heather asked, tone teasing since her cousin clearly already decided Llorabell was wearing more dwarven style clothing because of the layering.
Heather wasn’t wrong either. Llorabell was showing and wearing the layering to hide it. The lack of dwarrowdams and the rarity of pregnancy had to be why her company of dwarrow hadn’t brought it up. Fíli must think she was just getting back her hobbit stature still. It's not like she was showing that much .
It didn’t matter that they hadn’t noticed or why they hadn’t. She should have told once she had gotten past the first couple of months. She hadn’t because she had been busy, which was ridiculous but true. There just hadn’t been a good moment to tell Fíli.
Life was never stagnant when working to rebuild the economy of two kingdoms. It wasn’t quiet and slow like the Shire. She always had something to do. Cleaning up and stabilizing the floors and various towns had taken time and consumed everyone’s attention. That they also helped Dale rebuild at the same time had only complicated matters.
Then they had celebrated Kíli’s marriage to Haip which had basically announced that Erebor was open to the rest of the world. There was a constant stream of dwarrow and, even some hobbits from the west, to introview and organize since that celebration. Their regular duties developed as everyone settled into what was the rest of their lives.
Fíli had to manage relations with Dale. She organized Erebor’s side of the pastures and fields, including the small but thriving hobbit village Thorin had agreed to build on the western slopes of Erebor.
Of course she hadn’t been pregnant during all that. But things hadn’t slowed down once they had switched from structural restoration to economic rebuilding.
Most recently, Nori and Heather had gotten married. Then most of them had to travel to the Iron Hills for cousin Thorin’s marriage to Træm. Once they got back and had settled Kíli had dropped the surprise announcement that Haip and he were going to head West and see everything possible, particularly the sights Haip had never seen.
So it had been a little busy: None of it was an excuse to continue to leave Fíli in the dark.
The stamping of feet announced company a good few minutes before they appeared. Some of her personal guards, whom she had asked to stay below and watch the stairs, paused when they saw Heather. One of them rolled his eyes in response to the cheeky grin Heather flashed at them in response.
Llorabell could imagine the long suffering groan of ‘Hobbits’ her various guards would have given earlier on in their duties to her. Now they suffered in silence unless some of the company or Gimli was around to grumble with them.
“Yer Highness,” Veric announced, tone mildly incredulous as if he couldn’t believe he was telling her this, “the white wizard is wishing yer presence, if yer so accommodating?”
Llorabell fought off a smirk. Of course Gandalf was demanding to see “his” hobbit. Fíli was probably contemplating which dagger to use against the old man. “It has been a while since I’ve seen him.” Llorabell agreed, taking a final look out over the land she worked so hard to heal and make thrive before she followed Veric down the stairs.
Heather fell into step at her side and the other guard took the rear. Her cousins asked, “Gandalf came from the West, didn’t he?”
She paused for a sharp second. A mix of emotions rushed over her and tears stung her eyes before she forced herself to continue, blinking them away. Her rear guard almost walked into her back before she continued to move.
Gandalf had said he’d go West after the final battle. He had a whole list of things he had to do between taking up Saruman’s mantle of the White Wizard—figuring out what to do with Orthanc and its surrounding lands and people—and checking in on the Shire after hearing about the army of bandits Vali and comrades had helped her kin fight off. He had also made clear he’d have words with Unc–with Longo Baggins and the other hobbits that had insisted on banishing her.
Llorabell clasped her hands before her, and tried to ignore the fear and hope that warred through her.—A banished hobbit had never been allowed back. It was unlikely Gandalf would have good news. The various hobbit families that have taken up the economic opportunity of Erebor had avoided saying anything about it when she visited the little village but she was their princess and future queen, which was an odd enough situation for both of them. There was no reason to add to the awkwardness by bringing up her exile.
She straightened her back and almost stalked through the streets of Erebor as she left the battletons and swept through the large foyer and into the depths of the mountain. After years of work, the halls gleamed under the flickering fires held by jeweled lamps. Golden handrails glittered at every turn. Each ridiculous stair was polished but textured to both gleam and help everyone keep to their feet as they rushed about their busy days.
It was odd how comfortable she was almost running up a flight of stairs now. Going down them still slowed her down but she was used to using stairs of all things .—The world would never cease to amaze and bewilder her.
“Me Lady,” bowed a guard as she stopped before large double doors. He and his comrade stepped up and pushed the doors open for her. (Which was one of many things she had to get used to over the years.)
“Thank you,” she offered even though she wasn’t technically supposed to say anything. That one of the guards had greeted her was also outside of tradition but she was slowly wilting down their expected decorum. Eventually, hopefully, they would all learn to accept her thanks and greet her in turn. She didn’t particularly want statues for guards or servants, after all.
Inside the large meeting room was a group of familiar dwarrow, a couple of her cousins—Adalgrim, Flambard, and Adalgrim’s little daughter Cassia—and a single wizard. Someone had filled the large table with platters of food and pitchers of something. Everyone had paused and turned to look when the doors opened.
Frustrated lines smoothed from Fíli’s brow. He offered a warm smile and immediately picked up a delicate tea pot hidden amongst the feast and poured her a teacup.
Gandalf spoke up as she pecked Fíli’s cheek and claimed her cup. “Well now, I hadn’t heard that congratulations were in order!? I’d have thought such news would have spread far and wide at this point.”
Llorabell flushed pink and stared wide eyed at Gandalf.
“Congratulations on what?” demanded Thorin.
Ori glanced from the wizard to Heather to Nori and back. “Why would their wedding be spread far and wide?”
“Oi!” countered Nori.
“He’s a fine point, though.” said Bofur as he nursed a pint of beer. “Marriage is a reason to celebrate but it's not a royal marriage, just a company member’s.”
Dwalin smirked as he added, “Aye, Ori’s marriage to Lady Ulla will be one to talk about!”
Ori turned bright red and the poor scribe started to stutter while the various company members jumped on that topic. Ulla, Dain’s daughter, was still considered young to marry. She was of age but traditionally they had to go through some type of courting stage. To do so, each had been visiting each other. Ulla was due to stay in Erebor for the next year before they took another three month separation and Ori went to visit her, again , in the Iron Hills for a year.
It was something that Llorabell and Fíli had skipped but, since they had basically skipped everything, very little was publicly known about what led to their marriage or when they married and how the ceremony had gone. Last Llorabell had overheard, people generally thought they had courted from the moment they had met and married just before confronting Smaug. It was considered both horribly scandalous and romantic, depending on who was asked.
“What,” Llorabell said loudly over the teasing dwarrow, “brought you here Gandalf?”
“Well,” Gandalf stated as he stared at her with raised brows. His expression turned thoughtful and his gaze flickered from her to Fíli and back. “many things but good company and good food is plenty of a reason, isn’t it my dear?”
She slowly nodded, disappointment drawing her shoulders down.
Fíli sprang into action, as if he had the sudden realization that she needed to rest, and pulled a chair out for her. “Love, you must be tired.”
“It’s barely midday,” she huffed out with a roll of her eyes, even as she took the seat while ignoring the smirks Heather, Adalgrim and her other cousins present, directed at her. Even little Cassia was grinning.—Of course all her hobbit kin realized she was pregnant.
The rest of the company claimed their own seats now that both wizard and hobbit were seated. Food was passed about and Llorabell found Fíli absently adding food to her plate as he took things for himself. By the time it was all passed around she had more food than she could think to eat.
Llorabell rolled her eyes across the room at her various cousins, all of whom had found seats across from her as if they expected a show. They all look far too amused for their own good.
“Orthanc has been given over to Rohan,” Gandalf announced as he finished a selection of food on his plate. “The collection of books and knowledge Saruman had hoarded has been distributed between Gondor, Rivendell, Lothlorien, and much of it should be here within a few weeks.”
“Truely?!” Ori gasped and leaned forward in excitement, “What will we receive?”
Gandalf offered a slightly bitter smile as he answered, “Most of the books are about the crafting of rings of power.” He looked to Thorin and added, “There isn’t enough there to allow anyone to replicate what Sauron did…I fear Saruman would have done so if there had been...and I secured a few books that were detailed enough to cause a fool’s death. Still, your scholars may be able to discern something from them that could supplement the growing information you’ve recovered from Moria. Perhaps you will regain some of the secrets lost over the ages.”
Thorin slowly nodded, expression thoughtful. “Ori, head the organization for the influx of new text. All of them should be entered into the Royal library. If there are any duplicates, pass them on to the regional libraries. Make certain to send summaries on anything particularly important as your team reviews it all.”
“Yes, my king,” Ori bowed over his plate, eyes gleaming in excitement over the expansion of the royal library. The scribe had been heading the Royal library since the physical area had been deemed structurally sound four years ago. It was unlikely Ori would ever give up the position.
The door almost flew open revealing slightly exasperated dwarven guards and a stream of hobbits, all related to her, Lady Dis, Lord Vali, and Bombur’s fiance. All of them were carrying platters of more food or casks of drink. Plenty of family were missing between the many cousins still living in the Shire, Kíli and Haip off adventuring, and the various ladies her dwarves were sweet on like Lady Ulla and her guard Haria. Still everyone that could be here was.
“Ah, Vali!” Gandalf called out, “I had hoped you’d join us here. You and Flambard, at the very least, would be interested in knowing about those bandits you fought off invading the Shire.”
Vali raised a brow at the wizard. He set a platter of food down between Llorabell and Fili and clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder in greeting before he responded, “Oh aye? The lot were more organized than bandits.”
“Organized by Saruman because of something I had said, I fear.” Gandalf explained.
“They attacked the Shire because of you?” Flambard repeated in disbelief.
Gandalf grimaced. “I...well, I cannot say with certainty but I brought Saruman’s attention to you hobbits by my attention and interest. There are enough hints of that in his writings...And, if nothing else, he wanted to stop any military force that could be mustered in Ered Luin to help retake Erebor...There were notes that implicated his desire to cut in the Shire’s food supply to stifle support for such a force. He may have had a hand in the drought and other agricultural issues we saw during those two years in the West also.”
“Of course a wizard caused that blight! Ruined my tomatoes for two years straight,” hissed Amaranth Brandybuck, one of her more scandalous cousins who had decided to run off East before they were of age. (The Brandybuck clan back in the Shire had gotten even less reason to like Llorabell over the years, but really it wasn’t her fault the young ones kept running off to visit her.)
Llorabell rolled her eyes but declined to say anything. She had the award winning tomatoes back then. There hadn’t been time to grow her only little garden again so she didn’t have anything to say about it now but still.
“Yes, well…” Gandalf offered an amused look at Amaranth before he turned more serious, “One of his goals was to sour the relations between the Shire and Ered Luin.”
“Oh, he succeeded there,” scoffed Fíli.
Llorabell reached out and grasped Fíli’s hand, sliding her fingers between his as she silently demanded he shut up.
Blue eyes jumped from wizard to her and his scowl faded to a contrite expression.
The wizard heaved a sigh, his own pale gaze falling on Llorabell. “Those issues aren’t his doing, as much as I wished they had been some twist of magic guiding fool’s decisions...I’m sorry my dear, you uncle refused to speak with me and he made it a point to avoid me entirely.”
Llorabell nodded, her throat suddenly too tight and dry to speak. Everyone involved in a banishment had to be involved in rescinding it, which was probably the main reason it had never happened in the past. Longo became the head of the Baggin’s clan when she was thrown out. He would never rescind her banishment, even if it was a separate matter from her relations to the Baggin’s clan.
A squeeze of her hand pulled her gaze back to Fíli. His worried expression pulled a faint, reassuring smile from her. It wasn’t the end of the world. A little part of her had hoped to one day travel back through the Shire when she visited Fíli’s childhood home in Ered Luin. It would have just been a visit, though. Her home was with her walnut headed dwarf.
Lady Dis and Vali ruled over Thorin’s Hall and it would one day be Kíli’s. His parents nor brother could keep visiting Erebor when they had to rule over a hall over six months away. At some point Fíli and her should do the visiting. It would have made sense to also visit her old home on the same trip but they could go around the Shire instead.
Her smile grew as a ridiculous decision popped to mind. “It is of no matter, Gandalf,” she said as she turned back to the wizard and glanced over the crowded table, meeting all the various worried expressions before she glanced behind and up to meet Lady Dis and Vali’s eyes. Her smile turned mischievous and she turned back to Fíli. “We’ve far more to focus on than past insults and strained relations. More to celebrate too with Erebor becoming a kingdom unto itself once more and family returning to its protective walls. Why, we’ve finally gotten the last handrails back into place, didn’t we?”
Fíli’s worry faded to a warm expression, if not with a little confusion shining in his blue gaze, “Aye, all the stairs are hobbit proof finally.”
Snorts and chuckles filled the room from various dwarrow.
“And baby proof, I hope?” she asked as she settled her free hand to her abdomen.
Utter confusion flashed across Fíli’s face but only lasted a sharp second before his gaze widened to shock. “What?” squeaked out of the dwarf.
That “what” was echoed by about half the room, from mostly dwarrow but also a few hobbits. A sharp moment of silence followed, broken by Lady Dis breaking down into warm laughter and clasping Llorabell’s shoulders.
“Oh, Kíli said I’d like you,” the dwarrowdam glanced over to Vali, “We’ll have to send word that we’ll be away from a few more seasons than expected. I will be here to meet our first grandchild.”
A roar of congratulations and demands for ale fill the air in equal measure. A bottle of kshal was slammed down before Fíli. Dwalin, Vali, and Gloin proceeded to force Fíli to chug his ale so they could fill the pint with the hard alcohol. Llorabell was guided away as the males swarmed her husband, someone taking the pot of tea and her cup for her.
Lady Dis was the one to escort the female half of the party from the room and into a sitting area nearby. It wasn’t a room Llorabell had made much use of over the years but was supposedly for this type of situation as it was a room for Dwarrowdams only. There, Llorabell spent the afternoon learning some very interesting and very disturbing facts about pregnancy and labor from both races.
It was late and Llorabell was already tucked into bed slowly reading, and translating, a dwarven children’s book when Fíli stumbled in drunk off his ass and beaming sappily at her.
“Llor,” he slurred out as he stumbled out of his boots and flopped onto their bed.
“Yes Fíli?” she asked, amused.
“We’re having a baby.”
ooo
Kíli followed Haip from the holy site when a courier ran up to them. The young dwarf bowed deeply, “Mi’Lord, Mi’Lady, a letter from Erebor.”
He shared a bewildered look with his wife. They hadn’t told anyone where they were going; they hadn’t really known besides visiting holy sites and seeing the Western world. He accepted the letter and unfolded it.
A high pitch noise escaped as he read the single line in his brother’s hand.
Llor’s pregnant.
“We need to get back to Erebor,” he croaked out as he tried, and failed, to process the fact that he would be an uncle soon. At Haip’s raised brow, he handed the letter to her and watched as she lit up in excitement.
Haip looked back up at him and flashed one of her dazzling, white smiles. “The West will wait for us. This won’t.”
Kíli smiled back, shock giving way to excitement. “Aye, let’s call the company in and plan to head back out in two days time. That’ll give enough time to stock up for the trip and avoid the Shire.” His grin grew as his wife nodded in agreement. “We’re going to be the baby’s favorite Aunt and Uncle!” And maybe, he thought, one day they’ll be the ones announcing the same.
ooo
The End.
Thank you for taking this journey with me.