Seven years after the Battle of the Five Armies, Gandalf the Grey Wizard found himself in Dale. He barely recognized the city; the last time he had been here the streets were filled with rubbish and the buildings were run-down, but now everything had been repaired and the kingdom was thriving with wealth. There were extravagant waterways and grand fountains and large pools, and the stone-paved roads seemed to shine in the sunlight.

Without much fuss he was admitted to the Great Hall, where Bard was waiting for him. The Bowman was dressed in plain clothes that spoke of moderate wealth and had a sword at his waist; his hair was just as long as it had been seven years ago but was in the process of greying, and he had new wrinkles on his face, a mixture of worry and smiles. His stature was undiminished from those days long ago when he had killed a dragon and led an army to battle. He wore no crown on his head, but his authority was clear.

"King Bard," Gandalf greeted.

Bard smiled and clapped him on the back. "Gandalf," he replied. "It's been too long."

Gandalf looked at him approvingly. "You've done well, it seems," he commented. "King of Dale... who would have known?" His eyes twinkled mischievously.

Bard chuckled. "Aye," he agreed. "I wasn't going to accept when the people offered, but they insisted."

The wizard nodded. "I see," he said. "And your family?"

A smile spread across Bard's face, and his eyes shone with happiness. "A wife and four children," he answered. "I couldn't ask for more."

Gandalf did the math quickly in his head; Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda made three children, but... four?

As if on cue, there was a shout from outside the Great Hall, and a little boy of about five years ran into the room, waving a wooden sword in the air. His brown hair was the same shade as Bard's and was almost as long, and the top of his head reached Gandalf's waist. Like Bard, he wore causal clothes. "ROAR!" he shouted. "I'm going to kill the dragon!"

But then he paused when he saw Bard and Gandalf there, and he blinked as he lowered his sword. "Hello," he said to Gandalf, not ashamed in the slightest. "Are you one of Da's friends?"

Bard laughed and ruffled the little boy's hair. "This is Gandalf the Grey, son," he answered.

The boy smiled at Gandalf. "Pleasure to meet you," he said.

Gandalf knelt so that he could look into the boy's eyes; they were a bright green shade that Gandalf had only ever seen once in his life. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Diron," he told him.

Gandalf nodded wisely. "A strong name," he answered.

Diron looked at him with curious eyes. "Da says you're a wizard," he said. "Can you do magic?"

Bard cleared his throat. "Diron, be polite," he scolded.

Suddenly, before anybody could reply, the doors of the Great Hall opened again, and this time a woman strode in. "Bard, Bain just returned from the Woodland Realm-" she started, but then she stopped and smiled happily when her gaze landed on the wizard.

"Hi, Ma!" Diron exclaimed.

The woman was wearing an unadorned golden-brown dress with a brown shawl over her shoulders. Her blonde hair was tied back to keep it out of her face, but a few stray strands had escaped. She had brilliant green eyes that were the same shade as Diron's, and she held herself with the same silent grace that Gandalf had noted the first time that he had seen her seven years ago, riding with Bard on horseback as they returned to Dale.

Gandalf bowed his head to her. "Queen Marie," he greeted.

Bard walked up to her and kissed her quickly, causing her to smile and Diron to groan theatrically. "My love," he muttered to her. "I was just about to call for you."

She laughed. "It's a good thing I was on my way, then," she replied. Bard chuckled as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she turned to the wizard with a smile on her face. "It's good to see you, Gandalf. But I don't go by Queen Marie."

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he asked. "You are queen, though?"

Marie smiled. "Of course," she answered. "But everyone calls me Lady Marie, even though they don't know why. You understand, don't you?"

There was a moment of silence, but then Gandalf chuckled as he remembered the young woman who he had once spoken to in an alley at night, urging her to be the Lady once more. She had changed since then; she was no longer the shy niece of the Master, a soul divided between two lives. No, she had found her peace, her balance. Standing here now, she was both Marie and the Lady.

"Indeed, Lady Marie," Gandalf said. "I do."

Marie, Bard, and Gandalf shared a look, united by the knowledge of a secret that only they knew. Suddenly Marie burst out laughing, followed closely by Bard and Gandalf.

And Diron laughed as well, his carefree giggles louder than the rest of them even though he didn't understand why they were laughing in the first place.