A Better Place - The Hobbit Fanfiction

Alternate Entry Forty-Two - When They Come Home

{I am SO sorry, and I am livid with myself, but I managed to give you Proper Entry 43 when I should have been giving you THIS chapter. Ugh, I can't believe I did that again. I apologize.} 

It was both hard and easy to wait for our men to come home. We knew now that there would be no more killing, but that didn't mean our loved ones hadn't already died in the final battles, and the final battles had been catastrophic for all involved. But if they did live they were coming home.

Our army, out of respect both for Aragorn—who also was alive again—and the cities who had suffered most in the attacks, remained stationed outside said cities for a few months even after we lay down our weapons, to help them rebuild, and to keep them safe from any remaining threats until at least their walls had been repaired. Only after Aragorn's coronation did they finally start their long trudge home, and as with our broken parades we did not know on what specific day they expected to arrive.

Dale saw them first as they rounded the lake, both their army and ours, and blew their horns in welcome. I and nearly everyone else in Erebor—Thorin included—streamed out through every door we could find until we were running in a flood of our own across the grass, laughing, even before we saw them because we knew there had to be at least one living person still in that crowd who we wished to see. It was hard to find anyone in this crying mess of everyone, but it helped if you could listen for voices you recognized. I did my best, but my hearing never got any better, and it never would.

At last I noticed that one tall person stood among our mass of dwarves when most of the tall people had separated to flow toward Dale, and I recognized Legolas, who appeared to be talking to someone at his side, though I saw no other elves. I squirmed through the many hugging people toward him, supposing if anyone could spot a person in this crowd he could, as he stood above it among us. He spotted me, smiled, and spoke again to the person at his side.

I shoved my way through the last of the crowd and saw with shock that his companion was the very person I happened to be looking for, and he wasn't scowling.

There was just enough of a gap for me to make up lost speed, and I rushed toward him, spreading my arms and throwing myself into him with enough force that he had to put a foot back to brace himself, shouting with laughter as he lifted me and spun me around as apparently everybody felt the need to do these days. I buried my face in his shoulder and wondered if anyone would think poorly of me if I wrapped my legs around him as well as my arms. Gimli stroked my hair. I tried very hard not to cry too disastrously.

"Do you require assistance?" Legolas asked Gimli at some point.

"I've got him under control, thanks," I said, still tucked firmly into Gimli's coat, not feeling any particular desire to let him go any time soon.

Gimli at last settled himself, and I slid back onto my feet, beaming up at him and tugging on his beard. Gimli shook a finger at Legolas.

"Mabyn! Gimli!" Bofur had found us, his arm around Bifur. He threw his arms around Gimli too and they pounded each other's backs in the way that men feel the need to do.

At last Gimli said to Legolas, "Mabyn you already know. This is Bofur—don't know if you've met him—and his brother Bifur."

They politely shook hands. Bofur lifted an eyebrow at me, looking between Gimli and Legolas. I lifted mine too and shrugged, still grinning.

I pointed at Legolas. "I haven't had my hug yet."

He laughed, then took a knee and gestured me in, and I got my hug of my elven prince too.

"Gimli, I saw your parents off this way, come on," said Bofur, slapping a hand on Gimli's shoulder and steering him away. I took note of the direction they went, already leaning into it as though I'd break into another sprint any second, but took a moment to keep Legolas to myself.