Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings and all characters therein are the property of the Tolkien Estate and Wingnut Films. This story is for entertainment only and the author is in no way profiting from it, nor exercising any claims to The Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.

47. Burglarized

"Fili, for the thousandth time, I am fine! Quite fussing, you're worse than Mother and Dori combined!"

Thorin bit back a chuckle as the statement rang out down the corridor of the royal wing, though his young companion was not nearly so restrained.

"Do those two never stop bickering, Uncle?"

The king smiled at his newest nephew, shaking his head as they entered the outer suite to the princes' apartments, heart lightening at the sound of Kili's voice speaking loudly and without hesitation.

"Not often, Therin, only when there is food or fighting to otherwise occupy them."

Thorin looked around, eyebrows shooting up as he took note of the latest changes made to what had originally been a council room when his grandfather ruled the mountain. Now, however, it had been refitted with thick carpets and two desks, making it into a joint study for Erebor's pair of princes. The council had actually not objected to the change after they saw the new, larger, and warmer, room where the great stone table now resided. It was closer to the ground floor, which meant fewer stairs for some of the more elderly councilors, and had the added bonus of adjoining a small kitchen kept stocked with foods and plenty of ale by express order of the princes.

The two did not pause in this outer room, however, passing through to what was once Thror's bedchamber and adjoining study. That had been changed by the simple expedient of knocking out the stone wall and replacing it with wood panels that could be easily swung into place, or left open, as they were now, to create one great room. To the right was Fili's bedchamber, fairly spare except for a loaded weapons rack upon the wall, a small fireplace and a bookcase mostly filled with treatises on diplomacy and other lands. To the left was Kili's domain, with the large fireplace that had once been the main feature of Thror's study, his weapons rack, and a large bookcase overflowing with both books and samples of everything pulled from Erebor's mines.

Fili and Kili, standing near the window overlooking the mountain's great gates, turned as one, identical scowls on their faces as they greeted the newcomers, though their words were a great deal more cordial than the looks they gifted upon one another. It had been almost a month since Durin's Day, yet the younger of Erebor's ruling princes still wore one arm in a sling, preventing him from moving a still healing wound. They had been extraordinarily lucky that day, the blade of the small ax only nicking the artery when it could so easily have been severed. As it was, Kili had once more had a rough time healing, suffering from severe blood loss and a weakened artery that reopened with the slightest of movements that had kept him on bed rest for almost two weeks after the initial wounding.

Then, just when they had begun to relax last week, allowing the prince to spend time out of bed, an infection had set in and the fever that had so long plagued him returned, almost killing him even as the power of the Arkenstone coursed through the weakened body, supporting it. Senata swore that the prince should not have survived, his body too weakened to fight off the infection, but once again, Kili had stubbornly pulled through, the Arkenstone unwilling to give up its hold upon its chosen guardian. Now, he was allowed out of bed once more, but the other members of his family were finding it difficult to step back and allow the convalescing dwarf to do what he was able to.

Not surprisingly, Kili just ignored any further words they might have exchanged, turning his back to them to return to his preoccupation with the paint on the window ledge while Fili sighed, joining the other two.

"I see he's still in a bad mood."

"Aye, but at least he's talking again."

Fili observed, gesturing the other two toward the small table next to the fireplace and away from the glowering brunette. The Arkenstone's power had saved the prince, but not without consequence, reviving Kili's trouble with words for a time. He'd become so embarrassed by it that they'd had a hard time getting the dwarf to speak at all, not a problem one usually encountered with the ever-exuberant Kili. Thorin sighed, wishing once more that they could have had the luxury of staying within Minas Tirith until the younger prince had fully healed instead of subjecting him to the rigors of a journey that tried the constitutions of healthy dwarves. They would never know how many of the problems he now suffered could have been prevented!

"I can't say I blame him for being grumpy, either. He's spent most of the last four months either ill, injured, or trying to recover; add on the nightmares I know he still suffers and won't admit to and all of us watching his every stumble…"

"I'm sorry, Fili."

Therin's head dropped a bit as he looked shyly at his older brother from a curtain of hair, in an unconscious imitation of his other brother. While the youngest and the eldest of Dis' progeny had found themselves easily connecting, Therin happily spending any hours he could steal with Fili coaching him in sword fighting, royal duties, or anything else the blonde cared to teach, it had been rougher going with Kili. Partly at fault, of course, was the fact that the brunette had been so ill, but Thorin had also seen the guilt carried by Dis' youngest, who now understood only too well where he'd erred that day in the throne room, and the sacrifice Kili had made for him.

"I've tried to tell him that, too, but he barely speaks to me."

The blonde smiled, leaning over to place one finger under Therin's chin, tilting the youngster's head up as he'd done to Kili many a time in similar circumstances.

"He doesn't want your apology, Therin. Kili isn't angry with you, he knows you made a mistake and have learned from it." The oldest prince glanced back over at his brooding sibling, who's stiff back left no doubt he'd heard their soft words. Fili sighed, then something in his face shifted, and Thorin saw a determination in his eyes that made him brace for an eruption, though which direction it would come from remained to be seen. "He's afraid…and maybe a bit jealous."

"What?"

Therin's face was screwed up in an almost comical disbelief as he gaped at his brother, and his uncle had to bite the inside of his lip, torn between laughter and sorrow, the expression reminded him of Frerin so strongly. Dis had tried to say the youngest prince looked like Thorin, but the king knew he'd never displayed such free emotion or child-like wonder.

"Kili doesn't know how to talk with you, Therin. You're innocent. You grew up here, with Mother, and safe in the Shire with Bilbo instead of in exile as we did."

Fili's blue eyes caught Thorin's then, a sadness to them that had been all too common of late. What childishness the terrors of the road to Erebor and its horrific ending had not burned out of his oldest sister-son, fear for his brother and the weight of the mountain now had.

"I know you did all you could to protect us, Thorin, you and Mother both, but Kili and I knew the dangers you wouldn't speak of. We heard Mother worrying if there would be food to last the winter and saw all the times when you worked until you collapsed just to keep us going… We knew that you needed us to be the princes our people expected, leaders like you were after Grandfather died."

Thorin could only stare at his oldest for a long moment before his eyes closed on threatening tears, slumping back in his chair. He should have known that the boys were sensing at least some of the tension in the household, no matter how he and Dis tried to shield them. As wild as Kili had often been, as stubborn as Fili could become, they'd both thrown themselves into their training so hard that he'd closed his eyes to the truth, becoming ever harsher and more exacting instead of recognizing their desperation to live up to all he saw in them. And the few times when they'd broken the mold, reaching out to snap back a bit of their childhood for themselves, especially Fili… he'd lashed out, rebuking and shaming.

Fili was right, that was the source of at least some of the trouble between his dark-haired siblings. Now, Therin was technically the older in years, but acted more the dwarfling then the brunette, who'd looked at the world with all the sorrow of a lifetime lately. Kili had no idea how to relate, or understand why he had been so harshly disciplined while Therin had been granted the freedom to be young. It would be next to impossible not to be jealous, and Thorin could only credit Kili's maturity for it not having already soured any chance of a relationship with his new siblings.

Once again, Thorin's eyes tracked to his other nephew, alone by the window, and felt dismay as he saw the shudders once more wracking that too thin frame. Even three weeks of rest had not been enough to put flesh back on lost to the fevers, even with Bombur making all of the younger prince's favorites, leaving Kili feeling the cold much more than any of the others. Before Thorin could move from his chair, Dis appeared from the one of the adjoining rooms, a blanket to hand that was quickly and mutely deposited around her most troublesome offspring's shoulders. As he watched, breath held, Kili not only allowed the attention, but actually leaned into his mother, brunette head resting on her shoulder.

"Finally." Fili breathed to himself before returning his attention to those sitting close by. "He's been reluctant to let Mother near again, more nightmares of her leaving, I think."

"Perhaps it would be best that I not ask him to begin attending council, then."

Thorin's soft musing met with a firm shake of the head from the oldest prince.

"The only time I can get him to act normally is when he's deep in a problem about the mountain, being told he should rest instead of take up his duties is the last thing Kili needs right now."

"He's been laying out the tunnels for the new mines?"

The king could not keep the surprise from his voice, chiding himself for being so distracted by his own research on Moria in Erebor's library, and making plans for a spring campaign to the Iron Hills, to keep track of the younger prince. Truthfully, once Kili had begun to recover, Thorin had felt rather useless, and unable to keep a tight enough rein upon his temper, to be around the other much.

"Aye, and it's saved the miners a lot of grief. Since that last fever, he doesn't seem to need to even think about it, just glances at the plans and can point out where they'll find weak rock or better quality gems. Now that Kili's back on his feet, I plan to hand responsibility for mining operations completely over to him and concentrate on diplomacy with the other realms."

"Which tends to tempt me to hit someone with my cane. Hard."

Kili managed a faint smile as he brandished the offending item, sinking down on the vacant side of the sofa next to his older brother with only the slightest waver. The healers had all said that the prince may never again walk well without such aid, at least not for any great length of time, as his back was too vulnerable to further damage should he fall. That had been yet another bitter drought for the prince, knowing he'd never again have the strength and agility to handle a sword, and though he'd stated he was reconciled to it so long as he could still practice his archery, Thorin wasn't so sure. It would be highly unlike Kili not to play lip service to such a thing until he could find the privacy to try sparring for himself, and his uncle feared that it would not end well.

The brunette leaned over and bumped the blonde with his body, provoking a gentle shove back that might have deteriorated into a full wrestling match between the two six months earlier. Now, it brought a comforting smile and a reassuring arm about the younger's shoulders as Kili's own faint smile told them he'd taken no offense at being the subject of their discussion.

"I think that must be why Gandalf likes carrying a staff- its easier to smack offending idiots while making it look like an accident!"

"I would take offense at such nefarious reasoning being ascribed to my humble self were it from any but you, Prince Kili!"

The tall figure entered the room before Dis and Vili, staff held proudly brandished before him, and Thorin had to keep himself from once more doing a double take, expecting to see rough grey, not gleaming white. The mischievous twinkle to the eye and twitching lips, however, were very much the same as the wizard bent forward almost conspiratorially.

"I will confess to being very tempted to do just that once or twice with your uncle, however!"

Kili looked astounded for a long moment, eyes locking apprehensively on his uncle, but Thorin found himself letting his head fall back and roaring with laughter, which soon had the entire room joining in. Truthfully, he could recall any number of instances in which the wizard might have been justified in knocking him over the head! The king stood, still chuckling as he shook his head at the annoying, though powerful, pest who'd taken it upon himself to butt into dwarvish affairs at an inn in Bree so long ago.

"I would invite you to try it, old friend. We will see if Orcrist and I cannot use it for practice before going after that fool in the Iron Hills!"

The wizard cocked his head as if considering the offer before clasping Thorin's hand in welcome.

"I think you will have plenty to hew soon enough, Lord Durin; there is no need to threaten an old Istari who went out of his way to safely deliver an old friend to your halls. Though I would warn you to keep an eye to your valuables- I understand he is a burglar of some renown!"

"Bilbo's here? Where? I didn't see you come in!"

Kili was on his feet and moving with greater speed and ease than he had in weeks, face lit up and a broad smile upon his features, his two brothers right on his heels.

"That is because we were here before you took up your post, Master Kili. I wished to give Bilbo time to rest before subjecting him to the attentions of certain dwarves." Gandalf's face fell a bit, eyes saddening. "You must remember that he is a very old hobbit, now, worn by sorrow and a burden he was never meant to bear. He does not have much time left upon Middle Earth."

Thorin sighed, leaning his shoulder against the stone of the fireplace as he recalled all the pain carried by young Frodo, who'd only had the Ring for seventeen years as opposed to the sixty Bilbo had carried it.

"Is there no peace and joy left for either of them, Gandalf? What about what Elrond and Arwen spoke of, asking that the Ringbearers may seek healing in the West with the elves?"

"Bilbo wouldn't do that, not now!"

Therin burst out, jaw clenching as he defied his uncle or the wizard to say otherwise. Gandalf smiled, a hand coming to rest upon the young prince's shoulder to still a further outburst. When Therin instantly leaned into the hand, Thorin realized that the wizard must be a familiar, trusted figure to the dwarf who'd been partially raised by a hobbit. Certainly, the young one's reactions occasionally surprised and baffled his uncle until he remembered Bilbo reacting in a similar way upon their long journey together, such as being fascinated by the friendship and collaboration between elven and dwarven smiths in Khazad-dûm.

"No, Therin, Bilbo has already said no. He wishes to spend his last years here, if you will have him."

"Of course we will!"

"You need to ask?"

"Who would dare tell our burglar no?"

The three princes overrode one another with their answers, which set Gandalf to laughing once more even as Dis rolled her eyes at her children. Thorin, however, had another concern, pinning the wizard with a stern gaze.

"Have you told him of our return?"

"I have," The weight of the Istari's years and own return to the living seemed to hover over him in that instant. "I am not certain that he believes me, however. I think it best that you speak with him first, Thorin."

"I do, as well."

The grim set to the king's countenance shut off any argument that the princes might have given, Fili and Kili paling a bit as they undoubtedly recalled the last time prior to the battle that Thorin had spoken with the burglar. The older dwarf could only hope that Bilbo was inclined to be as forgiving now that Thorin was not on his deathbed; the words he'd spoken to his hobbit friend the only actions from that long ago time that continued to haunt him now. It was time that the quest came full circle, and he faced the last of the demons created by the gold sickness, for all their sakes.

There was no answer to his light knock upon the door to the room where Bilbo rested, but Gandalf had warned him that the old hobbit often dozed off, so he silently let himself in. The being on the bed lightly snored, a woven coverlet of soft wool thrown over him to prevent a chill, with Lis sitting attentively near. She rose the moment that her uncle came into the room, one hand smoothing the blanket where it had folded under Bilbo's hand, the look upon her face leaving no doubt that she loved this surrogate uncle dearly. The girl had her mother's temper, but it was harder to rouse then in Dis, and she had a grace about her that was uncommon among dwarven ladies. There was a new shawl of soft rose about the girl's shoulders, with a matching flower woven into one of her braids.

"He's just 'resting his eyes' again. A hand to the shoulder should wake him. I'll have tea waiting."

"Thank you, Lis. A gift from your hobbit uncle?"

A blush crept up her cheeks as the shy smile that had always allowed Dis to get whatever she desired from their grandfather played about her lips. Only the lass' golden hair, a shade paler than Fili's, showed her parentage, the legacy of Vili's family, who had more than a trace of Firebeard in their line.

"Aye. Bilbo had it made and sent all the way from the Shire. Uncle Thorin, I hope that you know I-"

"I know, Lis. I could not have chosen a better guardian for you had I the opportunity. I need to speak with Bilbo alone, please."

Thorin told her, a tweak of her nose as he used to do to her mother sending the lass on her way. That one he could handle, for she was every inch her mother's daughter. Turning back to his current concern, the king seated himself upon the side of the bed, one hand gently shaking the old hobbit's shoulder even as his eyes searched for some sign of the Bilbo he'd known in this white haired figure. Tired eyes came slowly open to meet the king's, then widened, a familiar grin pulling at his mouth as the hobbit sat up with the energy of one much younger.

"Oh my!"

A shaking hand brushed the king's beard, then poked at the broad chest in disbelief before grabbing his cane from the bedside and raising it as if to hit the dwarf before warily lowering it.

"You're real, aren't you?"

Thorin smiled faintly, capturing the hobbit's hand and giving it a friendly squeeze.

"I am. It's good to see you, old friend, though I would prefer a different greeting than being threatened with a cane. Again."

"You as well, you stubborn mule-headed dwarf." Bilbo grinned, daring the other to take offense at the words, which the king had to admit he'd had coming from his friend for quite some time. Then the hobbit looked around, and his face fell a little. "Oh, well…"

"What?"

Thorin asked warily, concerned at the abruptly changing emotions.

"I had so wanted to see Erebor again, restored to its glory, walk the corridors with my little Lis-a-Belle and stubborn Therin, but I suppose…"

The head came up and Bilbo swung his legs determinedly over the edge of the bed, leaving Thorin to scramble out of the way as the hobbit stood with the aid of a walking stick.

"I am quite ready, King Under the Mountain, let us go see what the Halls of Mandos look like, shall we? Another adventure, that is just what I need! Maybe find those annoyingly sweet, bumbling nephews of yours while we're at it?"

The hobbit's nose wrinkled as he pounded the floor several times with the cane.

"Though if they think to send me scouting again…twice like a barn owl and once like a brown owl indeed!"

Bilbo looked up at the slightly taller dwarf, who was floundering, mind racing as to how to handle a hobbit who believed himself dead, and…winked. Thorin felt a low growl in his throat as he crossed his arms, glaring at the other in mock outrage while the hobbit simply chortled to himself at having flustered his friend.

"I'm old, Thorin, not senile! And if you even think to try apologizing again, I really will hit you." The hobbit cocked an eye at him. "I will, however, accept a hug in greeting from a friend before you show me around this beautiful kingdom I hear you set those two rascals to ruling."

"Gladly."

Historian's Note: The Esteemed Burglar Bilbo Baggins passed the last year and a half of his life in the kingdom of Erebor, which prospered under the rule of the princes. That spring, Frodo Baggins, Merriadoc Brandybuck, Peregrin Took, and Samwise Gamgee also visited the kingdom, with the Esteemed Ringbearer Frodo electing to stay for some time afterwards. Gimli Elf-friend and Legolas Greenleaf set out with their respective companies, and have prospered in the South, bringing new life and beauty to the war-torn lands of Rohan and Gondor, and Lord Durin VII Returned rode in triumph at the head of an army into the Iron Hills, setting Lord Nalin, son of Dwalin, of the House of Durin, in place as the new prince. Already, the legend of Durin spreads throughout the lands and Men, as they will, speculate that he is the son of the late Thorin Stronghelm or some other relative, for surely one eighty years in the grave could not truly rise again, no matter what those closest to him call him. Soon, he will return to the gates of our ancestral home, where it is believed that the Lord of the Death Warriors has taken refuge with other foul creatures, hoping to reclaim the secrets lost there…but that is another tale.

Ori II, son of Nori, Scribe of Erebor

Author's Note: I am sad to say that this is it, the end. I will be working on a number of other ideas, but will need to flesh them out before any are posted (and yes, one of those is the letters between Dis and Bilbo ;). Thank you once again for all who have read and supported this fic, I couldn't have done it without you! Louise