One That Got Away

Epilogue

"Mara! Mara!" Ori called racing down the hall after her figure. She turned and beamed, the smile lighting up her familiar features.

"Hey Ori. What can I do for everyone's favorite scholar?" she said linking arms with him and walking slowly so he could catch his breath.

"Well, me and Balin were talking-"

"That spells trouble," Mara mumbled.

"-and we thought that maybe, the Khazad ad Erebor might like to know the history of their queen," he said eyes flicking to the twin braids hanging from Mara's temples and the third behind her ear. Her hair still looked turquoise towards the ends but the roots were turning to the coppery brown they had always been. The hair now reached her jaw, thick and curly.

"Don't they already know?" she asked lazily as they strolled the balcony of the Royal Quarters Hall.

"They've heard fragments, rumors, greatly exaggerated war stories. Bofur's the culprit," Ori said affectionately. Mara smiled in the motherly way she had picked up somewhere between then and now. "But what we want to do is write a proper history of how our queen came to be our most beloved queen," Ori said and Mara's wings fluttered on her back, her ears tinging pink at the tips.

"Ori..."

"We won't do it if you and Thorin say no, but we think it's better than letting Bofur convince people you took down four packs of Orcs and the Necromancer all by yourself while Thorin fought the dragon with only his Oakenshield and the-what was it?- 'burning love he felt for his One'." Mara burst into laughter, forcing them to stop as she clutched at her stomach to get air as her wings buzzed and she hovered off the ground .

"B-burning love? Oh, oh that's good! Okay, yeah. I'll ask Thorin. See you at dinner," she said and placed a kiss on Ori's cheek. He jogged off, feeling proud. Bofur wasn't the only one who could embellish a tale. Mara opened the door to her and Thorin's shared quarters, the huge apartment reserved for the king and his queen alone. The walls weren't decorated with gold or precious things, at least not in the traditional sense.

The shelves were lined with books, some filled with knowledge that Mara ate up, sitting in bed late into the night with a candle burning low beside her, Thorin's arm wrapped loosely around her waist, breath ghosting over her hips as he slept. Others held the lyrics to old Dwarrow songs, carefully written and illuminated by Balin and Ori and a dozen scribes from the Iron Hills, a few amongst the thousands being restored for Erebor's library. An entire shelf was dedicated to music Mara had written out from her world that she said 'they could get away with playing in Erebor'. Some were filled with information on other races, half empty or in multiple volumes. Many more were blank, waiting to be filled with the adventures Mara and Thorin had yet to have.

Thorin wasn't in the sitting room, or his study or the bathroom, not even stealing sleep in the bedroom. Mara frowned and closed her eyes, searching inside of her. She could feel it, like a golden string, her heart song pulling her towards her One. She walked slowly, hands extended in a ridiculous fashion and followed it, going up and down stairs through halls and out onto the parapets. She opened her eyes and saw Thorin with a pipe, wrapped in his old warg coat watching the sun go down. She sidled up next to him and slipped under his arm. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and she looked out over the stretch of land between Erebor and Dale. The market was closing but colorful banners still fluttered in the wind.

"Ori had a thought," she said softly.

"How rude. I thought you were a feminist," Thorin said and Mara shoved him, pulling out of his arms. His laughter filled the afternoon air with light and Mara smiled, wings shifting in pleasant joy. "Ori had a thought," Thorin prompted, one arm out so she could resume her position at his side, which she did.

"He and Balin seem to think it would be a good idea to put down what exactly happened on the road from Bag End to here. Mostly about you and me," she said letting the scent of pipe weed and spring air fill up her head.

"Hmm. No mention of Bilbo?" Mara giggled at Thorin's teasing.

"Bilbo...he has time," she said simply and Thorin nodded, the constraints of her Seeing still binding her tongue. "But what do you think? Are you ready for the kingdom to know about our quarrels and fights and battles and falling ins and outs and crossed fingers and silly kisses?" she asked looking up at him. He smiled and rubbed his nose against hers, making her smile ridiculously.

"Whenever you want, my love," he said gently and she rose on her toes to kiss him. His breath tasted of tobacco and that supremely 'Thorin' taste she was so addicted to.

"Then let's do it. But not now. Let's just have one more moment like this," she said softly and Thorin smiled. He pulled her close to his side, draping part of his cloak around her slight build and blew a smoke ring out over Erebor, green with life and bright with hope.

We've got a future full of blue skies

When you give me that...