But words are wind.

and Dwalin stood next to the grey wizard watching as the fairy sparred with Kili and Fili. She spun and raised the wooden staff above her head, blocking Kili's parry before turning back to Fili and sidestepping his swipe at her side. Despite the fiercely competitive atmosphere of the exercise, they were all laughing. Gandalf chuckled at the sight and exhaled a ring of sweet smoke from his pipe. The old healer could stand it no longer, he had heard tale from the brothers and from Dwalin that the fairy had died in battle, killed by Azog. "How did she come back?"

The wizard raised his brow at the sudden question and watched the mismatched fight for a moment longer before responding, "Look at her hair, Master Dwarf," the change in color alone was enough to tell the wizard what had occurred, as where the silver scars that adorned her face and arms. The two dwarfs looked at Arethusa as she pushed Fili from her and recovered the staff that was knocked out of her hands. "She was touched by Eru himself." Few had been granted that privilege, the only one he could think of at the drop of a hat was Saruman the White.

It was Dwalin who could mutter a response first, "By my beard." Enchanting laughter echoed from the stone walls as the three all lie on the ground, panting with sweat covered brows.

"You're slower than you were in Rivendell, Auntie." The word slipped from Kili's lips before he could stop it, Fili gave his brother a stern look that caused Arethusa to laugh even harder. The title, Auntie, had slipped from them various times, mindlessly. She did agree that she was slower than before, but mortality would do that even if she would not tell them of the revelation.

Arethusa stood and pulled the two dwarves up by the collar, "Come on you two, it's almost supper and then I expect the both of you to rest tonight, no sneaking about the halls in search for my honey cakes is that understood?" Kili and Fili nodded avidly, three days ago she had found them in the kitchens, plundering high and low for sweets, and she had threatened to turn them into pigs, curly tail and all. She did not possess that power, though she would not tell them that. Balin entered the training room, a scroll of parchment within his hand, "Lady Arethusa, an envoy from Nogrod has arrived." She still winced at the use of a title, especially from one she had now known for over a year.

The white-bearded dwarf rambled on about the clan they were from, Blacklocks or so she thought he had said, not nobility nor were they of the peasantry. It was a group of twenty-seven, with three dwarrowdams that Arethusa had mistaken for men at first glance. She came forward with her hands clasped before her training garb and hair pulled back to reveal her pointed ears. They looked at her with apprehension, the eldest of the group stepped forward, despite the ash color of his beard his hair was still black as tar, only two beads hung within his hair, each on the left side. "Where is the King, khathzûna?"

The fairy smiled, having learned the most basic of dwarvish phrases under the tutelage of Balin and Bifur, knowing what she had been called Arethusa laughed softly; "Master Dwarf, I am no elf, but a fairy and I have traveled far with Thorin and his company. The King Under the Mountain was wounded in battle and has yet to wake." The dwarves that had gathered behind their leader understood her position amongst the royal line and knelt before who they believed was the Queen Under the Mountain; the elder's face flushed red with embarrassment. She glanced over to Balin, who nodded for her to continue. "You are welcomed in these halls, join us for supper and we may discuss proper arrangements."

⌘⌘⌘

A tedious month passed, Kili and Fili were well and back to their ways, and both stamped around the Lonely Mountain as if they had known the halls before Smaug came. Word had been received that the first dwarves from the Blue Mountains had left, the group would include Lady Dís, someone Arethusa was equally excited and terrified to meet. Small groups of dwarves had arrived over the weeks, each belonging to a lowly family name yet in the halls of Erebor they were welcomed. The routine was painful at best when she welcomed the groups, she would speak her piece and whatnot for the evening's supper before discussing anything more.

With the growing population of dwarves, the mines had reopened, the forges had been relit and major repairs had been completed, slowly the kingdom was returning to its former glory. Arethusa had found herself spending more time with Fili and Kili, rather it was sparring or taking tea with them, she kept them under her wing, thinking them to be her own children at times, especially when she scolded them.

The dwarves that had come back to the kingdom were all curious about the fairy that handled the affairs of the mountain whilst Thorin healed. They had numerous questions for her and yet they all went unspoken. All noticed her absence at some meals or when she left early, returning to her sleeping king, such devotion only meant one thing in their eyes. Though the days were slowly slipping into a routine, Thorin had yet to wake. Some days the fairy would completely exhaust herself with energy transfers and while she put on a smile in the presence of others they knew it to be false.

Arethusa was finishing up her tea with Fili for the day, the two had gone to the library as her tutors were consumed by other preparations. She was learning to write in Angerthas while the young dwarf explained certain customs of his people. The peaceful reprieve ended when Kili ran into the room with a large grin and hands thrown into the air as a silent cry of victory stating that Thranduil had allowed Tauriel three days leave from her post to visit the mountain as an ambassador, though she knew it was a poor excuse on her friend's part to allow the two a small amount of time together.

The fairy left the brothers and went in search of Bilbo, she had promised to take the hobbit to a secret place she had found outside the mountain, down by the river and as the snow had stopped two days prior it seemed like a good afternoon to do so.

⌘⌘⌘

It was Bilbo who had been with Thorin when he first woke. The hobbit jumped from his seat and raced to the door in an excited haste upon seeing Thorin stirring from slumber, only the dry voice of the dwarf king stopped him with words so quiet he could not make out. "I need to get Arthie!" Bilbo then realized the fallacy of his exclamation as Thorin, no doubt, had last seen Arethusa during the battle when she had passed on.

"She -she's alive?" The Hobbit wasn't sure what to name the expression that had come over Thorin's face. It had been a combination of relief, pride, pain, and love. "Of course, she's alive!" Bilbo chuckled as he came to sit on his stool again. "You should have seen her after the battle. Ori thought she was an Ainur in disguise." The dwarf did not doubt it, she had been a blessing and a curse to the company yet now it became clear that she was no curse for them, she was their savior, the one figure that could unite the company with ease even when his leadership had failed. Her radiant smile had possessed a dark magic, no doubt, every time Thorin looked upon her smiling face he knew he would bend to her will.

"Fili and Kili?" He wouldn't have known what happened his nephews and Bilbo thought it best not to mention the severity of the injuries they had obtained during the battle, at least not at the present moment. "Up to no good, per usual," Thorin's half-hearted laugh turned into a bout of violent covering that irritated the remains of wounds that had yet to heal completely. Bilbo saw the tinge of red seeping through the bandage wrapped around the dwarf's midsection. "Thorin, I really should fetch Arethusa." This time, Thorin realized there was to be no argument with the hobbit.

"Very well, Master Baggins." He lifted his hand in dismissal and the hobbit was gone, slipping silently from the room and into the halls of Erebor. He searched for what felt like days, but in one of the galleries, he found Arethusa wandering about, looking up at the high stone ceilings in awe.

"Arthie!" At the call of her name the fairy rushed to her friend, fearing that something was wrong, "-I was checking in on Thorin before going to see Bard with Bofur in Dale, as you know he is never on time, unless food is in the mix that is-," the hobbit rambled on rather excitedly, dancing around the reason he had sought her out so quickly. Arethusa tapped her foot impatiently, wishing for her worry to settle and to be able to smile at Bilbo's elated mood. "Come on, Bilbo, out with it."

The rambling ceased and he worked up the courage to look at his friend, "Thorin's awake." The Hobbit did not even have a chance to register her expression before she was running through the halls that had come to be a home. Arethusa threw open the doors to his chambers and expectantly her eyes fell upon the bed, which was empty. The dwarf king stood before a mirror, brows in a deep furrow as he looked at the scarred cut on his forehead. "Nan ear adh in elin! Thorin, what are you doing out of bed?" The breath in his lungs seemed to vanish at the sight of the fairy, if she was beautiful to him before, the change in her hair made her twice as beautiful. She went to him, her hand gripping his forearms with a gentle assertion as she pulled him back to the bed, urging him to sit. Thorin was reluctant to part with her touch so soon.

Like a buzzing bee, she moved around the room, gathering fresh bandages and a goblet of water. The fairy passed the water to Thorin and knelt on the bed beside him, her nimble fingers unwinding the soiled bandages. She pressed her hand flat against the still healing wound and closed her eyes, warmth gathered in her palm and sunk into the dwarf's skin. The faintest of smiles came to her lips when his hand covered hers, only just pressing her palm harder upon his stomach. Arethusa could not see the way he was looking at her, the way his eyes traced every dimple and freckle or the way he smiled at seeing her brows furrow in concentration.

She startled when his hand touched her cheek, eyes wide and lips parted. A deep sadness and sorrow overcame his expression, "I had to look upon your dying face, it is a sight that I fear will haunt me to the end of my days. All those deaths, the needless fighting, if I am not to blame then who is?" He would not meet her eyes.

Not thinking of the language she had begun to speak, she commanded him to look at her, "Tíro nin, Thorin." Her hand slipped to his chin, the prickle of his beard tickled her palm and violent eyes had never shone so brightly as they did at the moment, he was lost staring into an endless purple sea that he would gladly drown in. "Menu tessu." Arethusa furrowed her brows, not understanding the phrase he had just spoken and she could tell he would not be inclined to share the meaning either. With pursed lips she continued tending to him, spreading a paste of herbs and flowers across the broken skin before rewrapping his torso. He would finish healing much quicker now that he had awakened.

Wiping her hands on a stained smock she stood and returned her supplies to their rightful positions before dipping her hands into a wash basin. "Do not tell the others yet." She looked over her shoulder, hands mindlessly searching for a towel, but nodded knowing he would have a reason behind such actions. "I have a lot to mend, do I not?" Arethusa sat next to the dwarf king on the bed, their shoulders touching. She wasn't sure what to say or what to do. When she looked back everything had changed yet it felt as if nothing had. As she realized what might have been, she grew to be thankful for what was, and now she was thankful that all of the Sons of Durin were well.

She took his hand, marveling at how small she felt next to him. After a prolonged pause, Arethusa looked at him and smiled weakly. "Not as much as you think. I have treated with both Bard and Thranduil, they are each pleased and have allowed an alliance to stand." He made a pained grimace when he tried to lift his arm to push the fallen hair behind her ear and touch her cheek. The fairy pressed her hand against his shoulder and wordlessly he laid back on the bed. "You still must rest Thorin." She chided gently, and it was as if nothing had changed between them. He remembered how it felt to have her hands on his skin after the wounds he sustained in the Pine Forest near the Eagle's Eyrie, now her touches felt even softer, sacred almost.

"Have I not slept enough?" The fairy rolled her eyes at his poor attempt at humor. "Stay put, I'll be back in a jiffy." He sighed when her lips touched his forehead and was half tempted to hold onto her wrist so she could not go, even if was only for a moment. Thorin watched her leave, his mind swimming with a thousand different questions, the last peaceful memories of he and fairy came to resurface yet he desperately wondered why she would stay. He did not deserve life after his actions, he deserved neither her nor forgiveness. Guilt had already seeped into his conscience, he should have been dead. Thorin looked at his hands in utter contempt and when he had stood before the mirror looking at his reflection he could hardly bear the sight.

True to her words she returned in a matter of minutes, a tray of assorted foods in her arms next to a half-empty bottle of Dorwinion wine that had been left since Thranduil's departure. Arethusa sat the platter on the bed and carefully sat next to it. She motioned to the variety, "Buttered scones, cloth cheese, bacon, and raspberry jam. Oh! And honey cakes, Beorn brought them several days ago, I'm surprised Bombur hasn't found where I'd hidden them." Or Fili and Kili for that matter, but they still remembered her empty threat.

In near silence, they ate. He would question her about the state of the kingdom and at her elegant responses, Thorin was left speechless. A question had arisen about her return and how she could have possibly healed him, but Arethusa dared not speak about the topic so soon. She did not wish to see his reaction when he found out she had become mortal, or that she had nearly killed herself while healing him and his kin. At her silence, he simply let the question pass as if it had never been asked. Standing, the fairy removed her stained smock and settled back down at Thorin's side, her head resting on his chest. The question he asked next was, in Arethusa's opinion, absurd. "Will you still have me after my fell words and deeds?"

She sat up, brows furrowed, and slowly Thorin sat up as well. "Yes," she whispered, fumbling with the contents of her pocket. The fairy pulled out a short strip of black leather with a solitaire pale green stone strung from it. She played with it nervously, "You're a cantankerous dwarf, no doubt, and even though we have moments where I want nothing more than to knock you on that thick head of yours... never doubt my feelings for you Thorin. Ci velethron e-guil nîn." He sat perfectly still, his face a mask of emotion that she could not decipher. Arethusa took a clump of black and grey hair that hung next to his ear, her face was deep in concentration; she had been practicing for weeks on her own hair and Fili's. Thorin realized what she was doing and swore his heart was beating so loudly that the entire mountain would hear its echo.

Slowly she began the braid, her fingers fumbled with the strands and hands shook from the nervousness that had gripped her. The queen she had been playing was gone in the moment and in her place was a mousy little girl, timid and frightened. A braid done on the right side is a symbol of friendship or familial ties, a braid on the left has a more intimate meaning and is only to be done by lovers, Fili's explanation repeated itself in her mind several times over. Thorin was completely silent, it was unnerving and she did not dare meet his gaze as she tied off the braid with a strip of leather that had a small prehnite crystal strung from the black material. Arethusa looked up at him unsurely, her violet eyes wide, until he leaned forward and placed his lips upon her trembling ones, but as soon as the kiss had begun it ended.

Thorin pressed his forehead against hers and allowed himself to shed silent tears, Arethusa let her lips brush over his, hesitant at first, as if seeking permission, but her confidence resurfaced and she kissed him harder, her own tears had begun to slip from amethyst eyes. "Ni melithog n'uir?" The fairy sat back as she recognized the words, he had spoken to her in Sindarin.

"Sevig i veleth nîn," she gauged his expression but his brows furrowed and she knew his understanding of the elvish language was just as limited as her own of the dwarves sacred language. The fairy shook her head, the faintest of smiles was dancing on her lips. "It means yes, my heart is yours for the rest of my days."

The silence that followed was comfortable, she had laid back next to Thorin, half curled around him. He was succumbing to sleep even though he fought valiantly to stay awake. Arethusa touched the white stone that rested on his breast, it was shining brighter than she had ever seen before. "Would you like to know something that I have not spoken about?" Thorin leaned towards her, his arm draped across her stomach.

"Tell me," he all but whispered, it was as if she had placed him under an enchantment with her eyes and voice alone.

"A Silmarils has the power to inflict unhealing wounds more severe than that of a Morgul blade. Those that do not have a pure heart suffer that fate upon touching the stone. You have worn it constantly and yet," the fairy laughed softly as she pushed the stone aside and ran her fingers over the skin where it had laid, the scars that were there had not been caused by the stone but by hardships endured before they had even met. Thorin reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the center of her palm. "There is no mark. Even when your mind was ill your heart was still pure, Thorin. Remember that." The dwarf king was shocked, though it did not show. He gathered Arethusa into her arms and smiled when she pressed her face into her neck.

Khathzûna (Khuzdul): She-elf

Nan ear adh in elin! (Sindarin): By the sea and the stars!

Tíro nin, Thorin. (Sindarin): Look at me, Thorin.

Menu Tessu. (Khuzdul): You are my everything.

Ci velethron e-guil nîn. (Sindarin): You are the love of my life.

Ni melithog n'uir ? (Sindarin): Will you love me for eternity?

Sevig i veleth nîn. (Sindarin): You have my love.