The Most Unlikely of Times

Summary: Thorin went mad after the zombie apocalypse while trying to protect his family, leading to the death of the woman he loved. Years later, he finds out otherwise. One-Shot. Human AU. Zombie AU. Fem!Bilbo. Bagginshield.

A/N: Bramble inspired by notbecauseofvictories on Tumblr for her Angel Coulby photo set.

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Once upon a time, in the not so distant future from our own time, there was a world called Arda. A disease began to spread over the land that made the dead come back to a half-life and attack the living to become like them. Small pockets of humanity had survived, but hope was running out for the people of Arda.

Our tale follows a man who had lost most of his hope, living the rest of his broken existence protecting what little family he had left, mourning the woman he believed to have died by his doing.

His name was Thorin Oakenshield and he lived in Dale, New York with one small group of humanity including what was left of his loved ones thirteen years after the first ORC (Obstinate Reanimated Corpse) appeared.

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There were things never talked about in zombie films.

No one had braces. No one worried about the nuclear power plants. No one spared a thought to how fire consumed entire cities.

They did talk about going mad.

And Thorin did go mad. Not at first, but his fear slowly devoured him. The undead would have been kinder than his own mind.

He had fought his way out of Erebor and to the Blue Mountains, a part of Appalachia with the few remaining members of his family. His grandfather and parents were lost, but his siblings, nephews, and several cousins survived. They were forced to travel as tinkerers throughout the desolate land that used to house a civilization.

During his travels, Thorin found Gandalf Grey, a batty old professor who seemed to know everything and everyone. Including… well, it didn't do to think about her, did it?

Not that he had much choice at the moment.

The seven year old boy with red hair and the Durin nose was always curious. "Uncle Thorin, can you tell me the story of when my Mama and Papa met?"

"It's a long story," Thorin said as they made their way through the woods to the hunting blind.

"We have lots of time," the boy said.

Thorin sighed as he knew his great-nephew was right. "Well, once upon a time, we traveled through a forest dark and deep for I had promises to keep and miles to go before I slept. We were trying to find something called the Arkenstone, a supposed cure for the undead. One day, your mother almost shot all of us in the head because we were chased by ORCs."

"Zombies, right?"

"We do not call them zombies, Astrophel. They are ORCs."

"Right. Sorry. Uncle Fíli and Aunt Sigrid call them zombies."

"Well, they're wrong. Do you want me to finish the story?"

"Yes, please."

"Your Mother almost shot us in the head, but decided instead to save us. Of course, Legolas had to go and drag us off to his father, Thranduil."

"Uncle Thrandy?"

"Yes, Uncle Thrandy," Thorin said, hoping the boy did not see him roll his eyes at the name, "He threw us all in prison thinking we were thieves. We were starving, but we were not thieves."

"And then Bramble Baggins the Burglar saved you," Astrophel said with a grin.

Thorin nodded solemnly. "Yes, she did save us many times."

"Why don't you talk about her more? She sounded braver than anyone," Astrophel asked.

"She was the bravest person I have ever known. I… I hurt her badly and she died because of me."

"Oh. I'm sorry, uncle," Astrophel said.

"Yes, well, the others think differently. You didn't know. Come on. Up we go. We have to be quiet while we're up here so we don't scare the deer."

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Astrophel understood the importance of silence. He was loud and energetic when allowed, but living with the constant danger of ORCs did much to damper any child's enthusiasm. Stories were the one place where such dangers could be overcome.

Bramble had always told Thorin that fairy tales were not entertainment. Fairy tales were there to tell people of the dangers in the woods. How nature, fate, magic, men, and sometimes even gods would arrive to destroy you if you were not cautious, and you would die anyway even if you were careful. And yet, there was always hope even in the most unlikely of times.

Fairy tales tell us, above all, not that dragons exist, but that they can be beaten. Never lose hope, my love. We will defeat this, just like humans always have.

A noise interrupted Thorin's thoughts. There was the sound of something moving in the woods. Several somethings.

ORCs traveled less in winter. The first heavy snowfall had already come to Dale. Thorin had believed it to be safe enough to take his great-nephew on a hunt. With a few gestures, Thorin conveyed to Astrophel he was to stay down and quiet until told to either run or call for help.

A female voice shouted, "We're alive and we're not here to harm you!"

A tall woman stepped out of the trees. She wore jeans, tall brown boots, a black leather jacket, and a green hoodie, all worn and stained from long use and travel. A long, brown braid peeked out of the hood which hid her face. "See? Not here to shoot you."

Humans were worse than ORCs at times. They were smart enough to know how to get what they wanted.

Thorin motioned for Astrophel to call for help on the walkie talkie. "How many are with you?"

"Not many," she said.

"Show your face."

The woman did, showing a girl at most in her early twenties, though more likely in her late teens. "I know we're near Dale, New York. We ask for refuge for at least one night."

"Why should we?" Thorin said.

"Listen, I've got four kids with me and their guardian. The guardian knows a lot of news and so do I. I'm going to reach for the badge on my belt. Don't shoot." She carefully pulled out said badge.

A Dúnedain Ranger. When did they become so young? Well, if it is a Ranger.

"Doesn't mean I trust you. You could have killed one and taken it from them. Show the others," Thorin said.

The woman rolled her eyes. "Really? You show me yours and I'll show you mine."

"Excuse me?"

"You have at least one other person up there. You probably have some sort of system to alert the rest of Dale if you see someone. I'd rather not be shot. I know: soooooo difficult to believe."

"I've called for back-up, yes," Thorin said.

"Alright. Kids, one of you can come out," the woman said.

A teenage boy with curly-red hair came out of the woods and made a bow. "Pippin. How do you do?"

The woman smacked the boy behind the head. "Not supposed to talk."

"Sorry, Strider." Pippin received another slap on the back of the head.

"So, Strider, what brings you to Dale?" Thorin said.

"Oh, you know, sight-seeing," Strider said with a predatory smile.

"I am not leaving Pippin out there!" a male voice said. It was yet another teenage boy, slightly older than Pippin with lighter red hair. "I'm Merry. How do you do?"

Strider groaned. "You see what I've been dealing with?"

"HALT!" shouted Dwalin has he came barreling through the woods with several other guards.

"I'm not exactly walking, am I?" Strider said.

"She claims to have five with her," Thorin said.

"Out of the woods, now, slowly," Dwalin said.

A teenage girl with short dreads came out of the woods, partially protected by another teenage girl with curly honey-colored hair and tanned skin. "Oye, Frodo ain't going nowhere without me," the blonde said.

"Sam, shut it," Strider said.

Frodo fiddled with her scarf and Thorin's heart skipped a beat. He knew the pattern. Thorin whispered to Astrophel, "Stay up here until I tell you. I'm going to see these people."

Thorin dropped the rope down from the hunting blind and climbed down. He kept his crossbow by his side as he strode up to Frodo. "Where did you get that?"

"It was a present," Frodo said, her eyes wide with fear. Sam tried to look fierce, but was frightened as well.

"I mean literally. Where did you get it? It's a regional pattern and I need to know if you are from the area it was made," Thorin said.

"How'd you know that? Most folk don't," Pippin said.

"I'm not most folk," Thorin said, "Now answer me."

Frodo swallowed before looking to Strider for guidance. The ranger shrugged. The younger teenager said, "My aunt made it for me. We're from the Shire in Kansas."

Dwalin and Thorin looked at each other for a moment before Thorin spoke again. "Do you happen to know of a Bramble Baggins?"

"What do you want?" Frodo asked. The small company moved closer together.

"I just need an answer. Do you know of her?" Thorin said.

"Yes. She's a cousin. What do you want?" Frodo said.

Thorin groaned and covered his eyes. "I am sure you have already guessed it, but Bramble Baggins is dead. She died while in my company."

Frodo furrowed her brow as she said, "What are you talking about? Bramble…"

"ORCS!" a female voice shouted from further in the woods.

"ASTROPHEL! STAY THERE UNTIL TOLD OTHERWISE! FORMATIONS! NOW!" Thorin shouted. He nodded his head to the newcomers. "You lot, can you fight?"

"Yes. These four are better long range, but are rubbish when it comes to close combat," Strider said.

A few yards away in a clearing were nine of the undead stalked towards a woman overly-bundled-up for the weather. "OH, COME ON! A LITTLE MORE STAGGERING! MAKE IT WORK PEOPLE! BE THE ZOMBIE! FEEL THE ROLE FLOW THROUGH YOU!" As the woman continued her ranting, she shot three zombies through the head with her compact bow.

"MY GRANDMOTHER IS SCARIER THAN YOU AND I CHOPPED OFF HER HEAD WHEN SHE CRAWLED OUT OF HER GRAVE!" Two more ORCs fell by the woman's short sword.

The others quickly took down the other undead. Only one was left and the woman cut off its head. The woman's body shook as she cleaned her blade. "My thanks. Anyone of my company alive?"

"We're all here!" Strider said.

"Good. Very good," the woman said. She turned around and pushed back some of her black, curly hair. "Quite inconvenient otherwise."

Thorin and Bramble both froze when they saw each other. Dwalin made a sort of screeching noise. The others were not sure what happened.

"Aunt Bramble, the man says he knows you, but he thought you were dead," Frodo said.

Thorin stumbled forward until he fell to his knees in front of Bramble. "I banished you. You were not in the shelter when the bomb went off to close off Erebor from the oncoming ORCs."

"I was already out of range. I saw the blast. No one came out after the allotted time of twenty-four hours," Bramble said quietly.

"We had to dig our way out. It took three days."

Bramble let a hysterical giggle slip out. "Three days? Really? Biblical imagery much?"

Thorin shook his head. "I think I must have died at some point. I wouldn't dream of such a connection."

"Well, I don't see some of my more vicious relatives, so I don't think we're in Hell. Too cold to be Heaven. Purgatory would be far more annoying. I don't think we're dead."

Thorin choked back a sob. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Baggins," Dwalin said, "We need to get you to containment. There is blood on you."

Bramble looked down at her red peat coat and sighed. "You don't still burn these things do you?"

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Thorin and the rest kept their distance from Bramble as was protocol. Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were distant cousins of Bramble's and Sam was Frodo's best friend. By the limited answers given to the residents of Dale, something had happened to the Shire, but not because of ORCs.

Astrophel climbed down the ladder at Thorin's signal. When the child faced Bramble fully, the woman looked shocked as her eyes darted between the child and Thorin.

"We should go back. I'm not… I'm still not sure," Thorin said as he rubbed his eyes, "Come on, Astrophel. Lead the way with Dwalin."

The young boy went with Dwalin eagerly. The way back was clear so the boy would be safe enough until they reached Dale's gates. Bramble was separated from the rest of the group, surrounded by guards with their weapons trained on her in case she made erratic movements.

Thorin could not go closer to Bramble. He flipped the golden acorn button in his pocket, the last piece of the Bramble he knew.

"So, you're Thorin?" Frodo said as she jogged up along with the other three teenagers.

"I am."

"Aunt Bramble has talked about you a lot. She made you seem like some sort of fairy tale king," Frodo said.

Bramble tilted her head to the side, the only sign she listened to the conversation. Thorin clenched his fist around the button. "What sort of fairy tale king? There are a lot of them."

"Like King Arthur or something. I expected if I ever met you, you would carry around a battle-ax while riding a Pegasus," Frodo said.

"Do you remember the story of the Battle of Moria?" Pippin said.

"Or the Battle of the Burning Trees?" Merry said.

Sam said louder than all of them, "But I liked Barrels out of Bondage best."

"That's because you think scientists are fascinating, even if they are the antagonists of the story," Merry said.

"Well I would be a bit paranoid if somebody claimed they got lost in the woods for no discernible reason," Sam said.

Thorin caught Bramble's eye as she looked back at them. She mouthed a "sorry" just before the two groups separated: Bramble to the showers and the other newcomers to physical examinations.

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Óin, the seventy year old doctor who was almost entirely deaf since they had run out of batteries for his hearing aids, came to Thorin after examining the newcomers. "Can't believe that it's Baggins."

"But it is her," Thorin said.

"Course it is. Anyone with eyes could see it," Óin said.

"Are they well?" Thorin said as he felt as if all the air in his lungs had been sucked out.

"Yes, but it is… strange," Óin said.

"Strange? How?" Thorin said.

"Bramble and Frodo both have bite marks on them: the first on her hip and the second on her shoulder. Thing is, those wounds are completely healed. Now, it could be just regular old humans, but… the incisors are a bit interesting, but I can't say anything else for certain. I'm not a dentist." Óin sighed. "I'd suggest you talk to your wife."

"She's not… I know she has no desire to see me," Thorin said.

"I wouldn't be too certain of that," Óin said.

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The scrubs Bramble wore were for someone several inches taller than her. She sat on the edge of the cot, her fingers tapping against each other as she looked at the ground. Thorin held back a smile at her bare feet as he remembered how much she hated shoes. He sat on the cot across from her which caused Bramble to look up.

"Hello," Bramble said quietly.

"Hello," he replied just as quietly.

"Clean bill of health?" she asked as she pointedly did not look Thorin in the eye.

"Yes. Óin says you are free from infection." Thorin covered his face with his hands. "The others in your group are healthy as well."

"Good. That's good. So, you will decide whether to…" Bramble swallowed and shook her head. "The others. How many of the Company are still here?"

"All of our Company is still alive," Thorin said.

"All?" Bramble sniffled.

"Yes, all," Thorin said as he looked up.

Bramble had tears in her eyes which she tried to wipe away with her arm. Thorin pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Bramble, causing her to laugh. "You carry handkerchiefs now?"

"I have found them useful," Thorin said.

Their fingers touched for an instant as they exchanged the handkerchief. In that moment, Thorin realized even after all those years, he would still do just about anything for Bramble. He was completely and utterly screwed.

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They had no more chance to talk as the Company came from far and wide across Dale to greet one they believed to be long dead. Bofur sobbed and laughed in equal measure as he hugged his friend. The rest mainly laughed (with some tears) at the joyful wonder of it all. Soon, Bramble's charges and the Ranger came in. The teenagers were awestruck by the Company. Apparently, Bramble's tales included the rest of the Company as well as their leader.

Thorin wanted to fall to his knees in front of Bramble and tell her how deeply he was sorry for every pain he had caused her. He had begun before they had to take her into Dale. He needed her to know he would spend the rest of his life (and the rest of eternity if he was allowed) making it up to her. She should have never feared for anything when with him, let alone for her life as he almost threw her off the walls of Erebor in the midst of his madness.

Tauriel entered with Astrophel. The boy looked at her as if he saw a great hero from legend. "Are you Bramble Baggins the Burglar?"

Bramble's smile went from joyful to polite. "I have been called that."

Astrophel grinned. "Ma and Da have told me lots of stories. Is it true you defeated an ORC twice your size to protect Uncle Thorin?"

Bramble's smile disappeared completely as she blinked rapidly. "Uncle Thorin?"

"Yes! You did do it, didn't you?" Astrophel said as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

Kíli ran into the room. "AUNTIE! YOU'RE NOT DEAD!" He tackled Bramble. "HAVE YOU MET ASTROPHEL! HE'S MY SON! HE'S AMAZING AND WONDERFUL AND SO IS MY WIFE! YOU'VE MET TAURIEL! ISN'T SHE THE GREATEST?"

"Son? Your son?" Bramble said. Her entire body shook.

"Of course! Whose do you think he is with such rugged good looks?" Kíli said. He fell off the bed as he tried to pull Astrophel into a hug. Astrophel laughed and tackled his father.

"Not… not Thorin's?" Bramble said.

Kíli snorted as he ruffled Astrophel's hair. "Please. Like Uncle would want anyone besides you."

Bramble began to weep. The Company looked at Bramble with deep sympathy and then at Thorin with a mixture of anger and sorrow. Thorin gulped and went to stand by Bramble, but Dwalin and Bofur pulled him out of the room.

"Best give her some room," Bofur said.

"If you don't, I'll make you give her room," Dwalin growled.

"She's crying!" Thorin said.

"Not the first time you've made her cry," Bofur said, a glint of violence flashing in his normally cheerful eyes.

"I can't just leave her," Thorin said.

"She needs her space. She is a bit overwhelmed at the moment," Bofur said.

"I have to apologize to her for…"

"Trying to kill her?" Dwalin said.

Thorin looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping.

Dwalin sighed and put an arm around his cousin. "She doesn't need to be pressured by you. When she wants to see you, we'll fetch you to her."

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Thorin watched Bramble from the other side of the bonfire they had set up in the center of Dale. Bramble sat on the wooden bench set out for her and her cousins as a queen before her court. Friends and those who had heard the tales of Bramble Baggins the Burglar came to her. She greeted them with enthusiasm, most of it genuine. He avoided catching her eye, shame burning through him each time as he knew he should not even be there.

Bard Bargeman appeared seemingly out of nowhere with a Dale brewed beer for Thorin. He glared at the woman next to him. "Is it poisoned?"

"Oh, please, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it years ago," Bard said with a smile, "Though if Bramble asked me to… she did save us after all."

Thorin took the beer and drank it in three gulps. "I know. It was no thanks to me, but I know."

Bard slapped him on the back. "Good. Now you just have to beg for the rest of your life if you ever hope to be in her favor ever again. Personally, if my husband, God rest him, had tried to kill me because I had kept a nuclear bomb from going off, I would be pretty pissed even after a decade."

He took Bard's beer and drank the rest of it just to spite her. "I know."

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Thorin rested against the wall of a house in sight of the bonfire, his eyes closed. Watching Bramble became too painful. He needed space to breathe. He could almost imagine the scent of her. She preferred to use lavender or honey soap when she could get it, but never roses. ("I do not want to smell like my grandmother, thank you.") The taste of her kiss as they fell asleep in each other's arms on the long road to Erebor was better than any pill he had taken or glass of whiskey he drank for insomnia after he came home from war. Her embrace held more comfort than any bed had.

A warm hand was placed on his forearm. "Thorin, may I speak with you?" Bramble asked quietly.

Thorin held back a gasp as he opened his eyes. She stood in front of him, bathed in firelight. Memories of the few times they had been alone flooded his memory. He said hoarsely, "Of course."

She dropped her hand and it took all his will power not to grab it and kiss her palm. Bramble said, "I am willing to leave tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? No, I mean, why?"

Bramble gave a polite smile, the one he knew to mean she held back her deeper emotions. "I do not wish to deplete the stores of your home. I have been told you and Bard run Dale while Thranduil keeps charge of the surrounding forests. Bard said I should speak to you about leaving as it was up to you."

Thorin would be having strong words with Ms. Bargeman the next time they met. "You, your cousins, and the Ranger may stay as long as you wish."

She nodded and looked down. "I would not want to make you uncomfortable in your home."

"You are my… I would never be uncomfortable with you… here. I mean…" Thorin felt himself hunching over, trying to make himself smaller and less of a threat. "Baggins, I need to tell you that…"

Bramble turned her head. Thorin saw Fíli approach them. The younger Durin looked ready to break up a fight, but immediately stepped away when he saw the look Bramble had for him. Thorin felt nervous from such a glance even though the infamous "Baggins Glare" was not directed at him. (Though the times it was used, even when he was ill, he was quite ready to do whatever Bramble wished.) Fíli put up his hands in surrender and moved away.

She looked back at Thorin, her face softened to a quiet authority. "What do you wish to tell me, Thorin?"

"I… well, secondly, I wish you had met my drill sergeants because that look might have made them cry," Thorin said.

Bramble laughed softly and Thorin wanted to be the cause of her laughter again. She said, "What did you want to tell me first, though?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "This was easier in my head."

She leaned against the wall next to Thorin. "It always is."

Looking up, he wished her to know everything in his heart. "I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate. I would take back all I said and did to you throughout the time we were in Erebor. You only wished for my good and I repaid you with suspicion and cruelty. My illness may have been the reason, but it is not an excuse. I ask, no, beg for your forgiveness. I do not expect it and I would do anything you wished to work for your forgiveness."

"Forgiveness is not forgiveness if it is worked for. Forgiveness is a gift. Trust is worked for."

Thorin swallowed and looked down again. He felt her hand on his neck as she pulled out from under his shirt the chain he wore. "You kept the rings," Bramble whispered reverently.

He closed his eyes. "Yes."

The world was falling apart. They had almost been killed by ORCs as they had entered Michigan. Thorin wanted to marry the woman who had left her home for him to reclaim his. Bramble was of the same mindset. ("The world will right itself again someday. We must act as if it will. Whatever life I have left, I would spend it with you, Thorin.")

Gold had become truly valuable again and by all sanity they should have sold the rings months ago. Thorin had his parents' rings and Bramble had her parents. With his siblings blessing, Thorin had given Bramble his mother's engagement ring and wedding band while she gave him her father's wedding band. The couple wore the rings on chains, both to keep them safe and because none of the rings fit them as they were either too large or too small.

Bramble took Thorin's hand and placed it by her neck. He felt the chain and pulled out the rings. "You kept your rings, Bramble."

"I don't make promises lightly, Thorin. 'In sickness and in health', remember? Of course I forgive you. I forgave you years ago. You have obviously snapped out of whatever took over you when we reached Erebor. Dear one, I would never have left this place if I thought you still lived."

"You…" Thorin swallowed back tears. "… you forgive me?"

"Yes. No begging. No working for it. Just show me you are the same good man I followed out of the Shire and we will be alright. And me? Do you forgive me? I betrayed your trust…"

"When I was ill. You did not…"

"Thorin, I let you say your piece without interruption. Please, allow me to do the same."

He nodded. She placed her hand over the one he held the rings with. "I betrayed your trust. I took from you what you believed to be the solution to the problem of the ORCs. I am sorry for hurting you."

"You are forgiven. You were right. I should have never thought of using the Arkenstone. The thing should have never been found."

"We thought it was a cure when it was actually a nuclear bomb. If we didn't find it, the bomb would have eventually leaked into the lands and would have made this place another Chernobyl." She gently pulled Thorin's head down so they could have their foreheads touch. "You were sick. PTSD. Probably some good old Anxiety and Depression to add to that lovely mix. We all were a mess and probably still are. I have forgiven you, love."

Thorin gasped at the last word. "Love?"

"Yes. I still love you."

They embraced. Thorin whispered over and over again he loved her and he would do all she asked. She whispered back she loved him too and she would make sure she would be with him.

"Beloved, you're back," Thorin said.

"Yes. I went there and back again," Bramble said before she kissed him for the first time in ten years.

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Thorin was uncertain why he awoke until he realized he had fallen asleep against Bramble's heart. Her breathing was erratic and she had begun to twitch in her sleep as she mumbled something incomprehensible.

He quickly got out of the bed to grab his hand cranked lantern. He spoke at a conversational noise level. "Bramble, you are safe. You are dreaming. You are safe. You need to wake up, Bramble. Wake up. You are safe."

She hissed as she awoke and then whimpered. Bramble pulled the sheets over her head, hiding from the light. "Thorin? Are you there?"

"Yes, beloved, I'm here," Thorin said as he knelt by the bed.

"Can you come lie next to me?" she asked as she lifted the blankets covering her.

Thorin crawled under the covers and let Bramble curl up against his chest as he held her close. "Beloved, I'm here. Whatever you need, I will do."

"Did I hurt you?"

"No. I woke up before you started thrashing."

"I'm still sorry about that first time, back near Rivendell. I love that pretty face of yours and didn't mean to give you a black eye."

Thorin kissed her forehead. "Not exactly pretty with this monstrosity of a nose."

"I love that nose. It fits your face perfectly," Bramble said defensively. She kissed his nose before settling back against his chest.

"Beloved, I find you are still my champion," Thorin said.

"Hmm… well, someone has to save your damsel in distress backside." She tightened her grip on him. "I… I came this way for a reason. We are trying to get help and I heard Dale still existed, though no one said anything about Bard. As the Lonely Mountain was mostly rubble, you can understand why I didn't expect to find any of you."

"Yes, I can."

She sighed and pressed a kiss to the center of Thorin's chest before moving up to look Thorin in the eye, the sheets falling down her back. "Love, the Shire has been overtaken by a man named Saruman White. He knew Gandalf and so I thought he was a friend. Instead… instead he became a dictator making everyone's lives horrible, making them slaves. We can't leave because we cannot go anywhere in a large group without attracting ORCs."

Thorin moved one hand to Bramble's hair and the other to her left hip where he had noticed the scars from a bite mark earlier in the night.

Bramble continued to talk. "There is… um… there was a Hobbit named Sméagol and he was attacked. We didn't know, Frodo and I, we didn't know he was an ORC. He bit my hip and then Frodo's shoulder before Frodo shoved him off of her and accidentally pushed him off a cliff.. That was a year ago. We should have been dead within a week. We were sick for about two weeks with the worse fever of my life. We should have died from the fever alone. But, obviously, we're still here and are not dead."

"That shouldn't be possible."

"I know. I remember being tied down in the cell of the jail house to wait for the sickness to take me and all I could think was that… that Frodo, my niece who I took in after her parents drowned while running from ORCs, was going to die because of those same creatures and she wouldn't live to see past the age Kíli was when… when I thought he died." She tears began to escape from her eyes. "I couldn't watch her die. I prayed that whatever grace was given to me she might be spared."

Thorin made soothing noises and pressed soft kisses against each tear until Bramble had calmed down again.

"Aragorn, Strider, I mean, thinks if we go to Rivendell that Dr. Elrond Imladris should be able to come up with a cure or know someone who can."

"Rivendell is in Wisconsin. There is a bit of water and land between there and here."

"Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois are completely impassible either because of ORCs or bombings. We had to go up and around. Thranduil was still alive and Strider was pen pals with his son, Legolas, back before all of this. We thought we might as well try to get reinforcements if we had to come this way anyway," Bramble said.

Thorin turned the both of them on their side. "Anything you need, we will make sure you have. I would ask two things from you."

She stroked his beard. "Yes?"

"The first is for you wait out the winter here. The storms on the lakes are too great to cross safely."

"Wise advice."

"The second request is I would ask to go with you."

Bramble smiled. "I hardly expected you not to go on this journey with me, husband."

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Thorin and Bramble did not go on the quest to find the cure. Bramble found out by the end of winter she had become pregnant during her brief time with Thorin. As an already high-risk pregnancy at forty-one in a world without advanced medical interventions, it was unwise for her to travel long distances with the threat of ORCs. Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Bain, and Tilda all went to Rivendell. There they were joined by Gandalf Grey and Boromir Steward to go to Mordor, Florida to ask help from the mad scientist who had taken over the Florida peninsula, Sauron Melkor, son of Dr. Morgoth Melkor.

They had many adventures and close calls, making many allies and friends along the way. They finally found a cure after man trials and tribulations. Saruman White was removed from power and the Shire became its own again. All our heroes lived and returned to their loved ones.

The world slowly regained some of its good as well as its bad, though mostly its good.

Bramble and Thorin had a healthy baby girl, though they could not have any more children. The child was named Hope Samantha. Sometimes when she and her parents would sit in front of the fireplace at Bag-End, she would ask, "Why did you name me Hope Samantha?"

"Because," Thorin would say, "Samantha is the female form of Samuel, who was given to his mother when it was believed she could not bear children. You are called Hope because that is what you are and it reminds us all that hope is found in the most unlikely of times. Also, Hope was the first name of my mother and the middle name of your mother's mother."

Hope would smile and hug her father and her mother. "I love you both very much… and thank you for not calling me Belladonna."

Thorin and Bramble would both laugh before telling Hope her favorite stories about love, love lost, love regained, adventures, great quests, and kind deeds.

And they lived happily together until the end of their days.

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A/N: A special thanks to Penelope Siwel on for her support. She asked for a story with a Fem!Samwise. I was already working on this story, though I had put it aside for a little bit. She gave me that bit of encouragement to finish it.

I did not realize when writing this story how much snarkier Aragorn would be as a teenage girl. Also, I think it is rather obvious at this point to my long time readers I am obsessed with the concept of eucatastrophe as put forth by Tolkien. I'm not sorry.