Hello my beautiful readers. So here is the final chapter as promised. Firstly I would like to apologise to you, if you think that the deaths are not that great or honourable. As some of you know, I have recently lost a very close loved one and so I found it somewhat difficult to write about a death of a loved character. I do however hope that it is up to scratch. I feel surprisingly relieved to finish this story, though I have enjoyed it – as I hope you all have. I hope you like this ending although it may be both sad and happy. I ended it was best as I thought I could in regards to where my OFC could/would end up and in my emotional state. So if the ending is a bit of a let-down and you were expecting something fantastical and the deaths more magnificent, im sorry and I hope you can understand what it took for me to write about the death of a character when I've had a death in the family. On a happy note, you are all fabulous. Please, please, please REVIEW! Many of you have asked to upload new chapters, so I would value the opinions of you all (both nice and creative/constructive criticism. Nasty reviews are not nice)

It certainly has been an adventure hasn't it - a 50 paged adventure. Haha.

Much love

0.0.0

As the dwarves of Dain marched in a most threatening manner against the elves and men with Thorin and the company watching through the window, an eerie silence crept over the land. It was if the earth had taken a deep breath and refused to let it go. Thranduil, on feeling a strange sensation, stepped out of his tent and glanced up at the sky. Slowly the white clouds that once danced in the sky turned a sickening grey colour and the beams of light that once lit the atmosphere gradually faded. It was becoming dark. On hearing the elven king gasp, Anya managed to pull herself up and push past his to look at the commotion. Stiff she stood beside Thranduil. "What is it?!" She asked him and Thranduil glanced down at his side, regarding the woman who had spoken to him without hatred for the first time.

"Something wicked comes!" He replied.

"My lord, my lord!" A soldier called out in that moment, rushing to the king of mirkwood.

"Yes?" He snapped at the panicked soldier.

"An army comes, but it is not of dwarf kind; Goblins and Wargs approach us with vicious speed" He explained and the king of Mirkwood's eyes widened and turned to the woman.

"You will aid us…" Was all he said before leaving the tent in haste, shouting out commandments to his men to armour up and prepare for battle. Anya felt worry overwhelm her and found the absence of the King an opportunity to escape. As she took a deep breath, Anya burst through the tent with some speed; the mountain in her vision. She must warn the others, she thought to herself. As she dodged guards as they tried to grab her, Anya failed to see the King standing at a distance watching her with an evil stare. Picking up a bow they leant against one of his men and a stone from the floor, Thranduil used it as a sling shot and drew the stone back, aiming for the woman's feet. When he was confident of the position, he let go of the string and the stone flew through the air at some speed, colliding harshly with the woman's ankle. A crack sounded at the impact, and in pain and frustration of falling hard to the ground, Anya screamed at the top of her voice; the sound so loud that it travelled through the wind to the mountain. Thranduil tossed the bow aside and marched over to the weeping woman on the floor. Taking hold of her arm, he yanked her to her feet; eyes ablaze with anger. "You would do well not to cross me woman!" He snarled in her ear and pushed her toward to tent. Pain shot through her ankle as she placed pressure upon in and she whimpered aloud.

"I think my ankle is broken you prat!" She shouted back, dropping to her knees in defeat.

"I doubt that – it did not hit you hard enough for a breakage; it if probably fractured" Thranduil responded with a bored tone, grabbing the woman once more. "Now get up"

"It's more or less the same thing; I cannot walk on it" She cried back as she cradled her ankle. Thranduil growled in frustration and glanced up, pointing to his healer and bade him forth.

"Take her and bind her foot. I want her up and ready in ten minutes. The army is fast approaching and she is the key to our success." The healer solemnly nodded, not wanting to disagree with his lord, and helped the woman to stand, walking her carefully toward the tent; silently disapproving of his kings actions.

"Did you hear that scream?" Kili whispered among the company; his worried eyes looking to his elvish admirer. Tauriel nodded gravely and stood to her feet, making her way over to the window.

"Do you think it was Anya?" Ori asked softly, though a hint of sadness was evident.

"It was a feminine cry…" Thorin confirmed without actually answering his question and placed his face in his hands in shame.

"I do not think he would harm her so…" Bilbo spoke up, in regards to the elven king.

"What else would cause her to scream so, master Baggins?" Thorin spoke up; lifting his weary face form his hands to regards the small hobbit.

"An army…" Tauriel quipped, looking gravely over her shoulder to the company.

"Our cousins would not harm or frighten her!" Dwalin snapped at the she elf in annoyance. The red head shook her head and sighed before answering.

"It is not Dwarves or Elves I speak of" She stated, walking down the stones, approaching the king under the mountain. Thorin, on hearing her grave words, rose to his feet, and watched Tauriel ever so closely.

"So, what is it then?" Nori inquired, feeling impatient at the sudden absence of noise.

"Goblins and Wargs approach with an inhuman pace; your cousins and my kin are forming battle stances. I suggest we armour up. Wargs may not be able to penetrate the foundations of this kingdom; but it is within the Goblins capabilities. We must prepare."

"So be it" Thorin retorted, marching quickly into the darkness towards the rusting armour that clad the old bones of dwarves long forgot.

.0

"Please, let me go. Just distract him while I make a run for it" Anya begged the young elf that carefully but securely bound her slightly swollen ankle.

"I cannot, I am sorry Penneth" He responded solemnly, and his ice blue eyes bore into hers; his regret was evident and honest. Anya sighed loudly and wiped her brow, thinking that this elf was probably just too scared to face an angry king. Sensing her thoughts, the elf shook his head. "It would be sending you to your death if I let you go now. Your ankle is not in good condition. Your chances of reaching the mountain before the evil descends, with that ankle, are slim."

"So, you would help me if I was well?" She asked, surprised at the elf. The elf rose to his feet and quickly glanced at the opening of the tent to make sure no one was listening. He then turned back to the mortal woman and smiled a genuine smile.

"I do not agree of my king's action today… or most days for that matter. Yes, if I could have, I would have. If this is to end in war, then I would rather you be with those you love, not in captivity. I am sorry Anya, truly I am…" He explained, lowering his head in sadness. Anya regarded the elf and found that he quite resembled Tauriel in demeanour; she certainly would not forget his loving soul.

"What is your name?" Anya said just above a whisper, reaching out a hand and placing it lovingly on the elf's cheek. The young male raised his eyes and looked at the woman in surprise, finding no hatred in them.

"I am Garvenn, son of Geserain"

"It has been a please to meet you Garvenn, amongst all this hostility. I really hope and pray that you are kept safe during this war."

"Namarie, Mellon nin…" Garvenn spoke gently, leaning forward, pressing a soft kiss to the woman's head "…Aa' lasser en lle coia orn n' omenta gurtha" as he pulled away and regarded the woman's expression the elf healer chuckled, remembering that she did not understand his native language. Leaving Anya's side and walking to the opening of the tent, the elf translated to the woman in a soothing tone "… Farewell, my friend. May the leaves of your life never turn brown" And with that he left her alone as the haunting cries of the oncoming evil echoed all around.

Hours had passed, and rouge began to tint the rubble covered land that extended from the last great dwarven dwelling. Bodies upon bodies were scattered amongst rusted weapons; Goblins, Wargs, Men, Elves and Dwarves alike. It was a blood bath. The dwarves of Dain marched toward the hostile creatures with some authority and grace about them, and though their shields were broad and thick, the casualties were many for the Goblins were vigorous; strength overwhelmed them that they thought impossible for such a slimy, thin, rotting race. The sky had darkened as if there was smoke rising from a great fire, ascending into the atmosphere above. Shrieks and wails echoed in and through the stone rattled the bones of those fighting for their lives. Thorin and his company had taken to the outside, fighting for the rights to the kingdom as onslaught upon onslaught of wretched creatures bombarded them. The small, brave Hobbit had succumb to fright and inexperience and sat, withdrawn, upon the mountain, watching with fear as his comrades fought for their lives. With a gasp of delight, the Halfling watched as slowly, the Goblins withdrew; the army of Dwarves and Elves too strong for them. The hobbit thought victory was in site, but that hope soon faded when even more, if possible, Wargs replaced the Goblins with much more hatred and exuberance. As the Wargs began to take charge, the Goblins crept back ever so sneakily, taking place upon the mountain side. Dread filling his heart, and being unable to remain near the battle ground, Bilbo placed on the one ring and ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the safe encampment of the Elves. Dashing into one of the untouched tents, Bilbo gasped through his exertion and quickly removed the ring, placing it in his pocked. "Bilbo!" A voice shrieked and the hobbit felt a body slam against his own. Surprised for a moment, Bilbo glanced to his side and noted a small woman clinging to him.

"Anya, my dear!" Exclaimed the Hobbit in sheer happiness and embraced her back. "I thought you dead"

"I didn't think I would live this long, truth be told!" Anya replied, pulling back to look at the small male. "Tell me, are they alive?"

"They are, but I fear not for long. The enemy is too powerful"

"Bilbo, will you help me get to them, please?" The blonde woman pleaded, taking hold of master Baggins' hand and squeezed it. "I must help them. We must do what we can" Bilbo thought over the young woman's words for a moment, but deep down in his soul, she was right. They were their friends. They could not desert them and do nothing but wait for it to pass; if it did pass. Taking a brave, deep breath, Bilbo held onto the woman's hand and led her from the tent. The sight in which Anya stumbled on was one of heartbreak. The pain filled cried of injured men and elves and dwarves hit her like a gust of wind. As Bilbo led her past and over bodies, Anya scanned the faces of the slain with tear-filled eyes until suddenly she stopped, standing frozen as she stared at a body on the floor.

"Anya, we cannot stop. We are exposed. Come on!" Bilbo shouted over the sounds of war, but a frown appeared upon his face as he noted the tears falling down the mortals face as she looked upon a dead elf. "What is it?"

"His name is Garvenn…" Anya sobbed, wiping away the tears that stung her eyes. An axe nestled, embedded in the young healer's chest. His mouth was agape and blood poured from his nose, dripping down into the pool of red in which he led. In one had he held a sword, and the other a picture; although splattered with blood, Anya made out a painting of a beautiful woman with flowing golden locks. "… He probably had a love…" Anya thought aloud and quickly knelt down, using her fingers to close the eyes of the beautiful-hearted male. "… Im so sorry this happened to you Garvenn…" Anya whispered and allowed Bilbo to pull her away into the roar of battle.

"Fili look out!" Kili shouted as he pierced the flesh of a sickly looking Goblin, noticing that a Warg crept up behind his brother. Fili snapped his head around and lifted his axe above his head before bringing it harshly down upon the skull of the four legged beast. A splash of blood coloured the bloods hair as he removed the weapon from the beast. Standing by one another, the brothers fought for their lives with much stealth.

"Ori Lad, stay by me!" Nori shouted to the young dwarf, pulling him to his side. Ori had taken to wielding a sword, replacing his sling shot for he knew it would not serve him well. Stumbling next to his brother, he looked about, wide eyed. "Don't worry; I'll keep you safe…"

"Tauriel, shoot!" Dwalin commanded to the red headed elf as he noticed the pack of Wargs approaching them. Tauriel pulled out several arrows from fallen victims, and with great precision shot the offending beasts, much to Dwalin's relief. Balin, although old, waved his axe around like a conductor of an orchestra creating a masterpiece. With ever swing he felled a foul beast. The remainder of the company took well to the battle field and worked hard to preserve their lives.

"I see Thorin!" Anya shouted with glee, limping forward as fast as she could, holding Bilbo's hand. Thinking he heard his name in the window, Thorin risked a glance to his side and watched with wide eyes as his love approached, accompanied by master Baggins. Happiness swelled within him to see Anya alive. Forgetting where he was at that moment, Thorin lowered his sword and began to walk towards the mortal woman when a shooting pain seared through his side. "No!" Anya screamed and dropped Bilbo's hand, running as best she could towards the king.

"No!" A voice sounded and Kili quickly turned around, away for a body he had just thrown to the ground and looked upon Anya running toward his uncle who stood with an arrow protruding from his side.

"Thorin!" Kili yelled and ran in the direction of his Uncle. On hearing his brothers pained tone, Fili followed in fear.

The mortal woman reached the dwarf kings side and cupped his face in her hands. Thorin's eyes began to glaze over as his blood dripped ever so slowly from his wound. "Im here love im here. You're going to be ok…" Anya stumbled over her words in fear and gasped when she saw a Warg heading their way.

"Fili, kill it, kill it!" Bellowed Kili as his eyes followed the beast aiming for his uncle. Fili, who was now in front of his brother, ran toward the fell beast and brandished his weapon at it. Kili, not far behind, followed in his brothers footsteps until heat attacked the lower of his back. Standing still, confusion overwhelming him, Kili reached around and felt a shaft sticking out of his back. Gasping, Kili stumbled forward until another burst of heat consumed him, knocking him to his feet.

"Kili!" Anya whispered and Thorin noted her panic, and through his pain, the king beside his mountain turned, following his loves eye line and glanced upon his youngest nephew, kneeling upon the floor, with several arrows protruding from his back. Forgetting his love, Thorin rushed towards him, tears dripping from his eyes. As he reached Kili, Thorin fell to his knees, gathering his kin in his arms. Kili gasped for breath as he looked up at his uncle. Taking hold of one of his hands, Thorin squeezed affectionately, sorrow overwhelming him. Fili felt his heart sink as he looked upon the saddening scene and he ran towards his family. As he reached his uncles side, Fili looked into the distance and watched with fear as an arrow flew through the air aiming for Thorin Oakenshield. Not wanting to be separated from his brother, knowing his fate, and wanting his Uncle to live, Fili, the heir to the throne of Erebor, dashed to the side and stood, welcoming the blow of the arrow to his chest. As soon as the poisoned shaft hit him, Fili crumpled to the floor beside his Uncle.

"No!" Thorin mourned as he watched the scene unfold and gathered his eldest nephew in his other arm. Feebly Fili reached out a hand and took hold of his brothers. In the arms of their uncle, the brothers looked at each other, aware of their fate. "Oh Mahal, let not this be their ending!" Thorin howled, tears unashamedly falling from his eyes.

"Do not be sad, Uncle…" Kili coughed, though his eyes never left Fili's.

"I am honoured to accept this; to know that I have saved your live" Fili added, whimpering as the pain began to overtake his being, and the lights in front of his eyes began to fade.

"We go to join our father" Kili spoke softly and wheezed as his breath began to halt. Thorin protested in his heart to his words as he witnessed the life leave his nephews and the lights leave their eyes. A smile formed on their mouths as they passed, knowing full well that they were at peace. Thorin screamed in mourning and lifted his nephew's heads to his own and he held them tightly; their limp bodies hanging against him. In the distance Tauriel felt her heart break as Kili fell limp and lifeless. Knowing that he could not remain like this much longer, Thorin kissed Fili's head then Kili's and promised to return to them. Then, stumbling to his feet with an axe in his hand, he let out a war cry and slew many Goblins, unaware of a large goblin pointing a bow with several arrows attached at him. Anya watched as the world began to spin in slow motion as the arrows soared through the air and slammed into the King beside his mountain. Feeling anger fill her being, Anya roared and opened her arms wide towards the Goblin and felt red over her eyes; growling with a sound that her body had never made before.

The sky began to swirl above her, circling in colours of black and grey. As she rose her arms, Anya fumed; hatred for the monsters radiating from her body. With one quick swish of the arms, time stopped for a moment. Elves and dwarves and men alike watched in sheer surprise as they stayed their weapons when a light burst forth from the mortal's chest and hands, engulfing the foul creatures. As the light enveloped them like snow on a mountain, screams of protests sounded as little by little flesh and fur began to tear from their skins. The smell of burning flesh filled the company's nostrils as they watched with slight fear in their hearts. Thranduil lowered his sword and witnessed the scene pan out with a slight smirk upon his lips. As the flesh continued to rot and burn, exposing muscle and bone, Anya dropped her hands and collapsed to the floor. Not a single enemy resided on the ground at that moment, and those that took refuge on the mountain scattered, yelping in fear of the same fate. With a shout of victory all thrust their fists into the air, thanking their gods and protectors. But rejoicing was not in everyone's heart and mind. Spluttering, unaware of the happenings about him, Thorin Oakenshield led upon the battle ground, eyes to the sky, tears dropping from his eyes as he thought of his nephews. He could not move ad he knew he was unlikely to survive his injuries. Tauriel sprinted to the young dwarf princes and dropped to her knees when she reached kili's side. Pulling him up against his chest she wept for his life and the light and goodness that had left his body. Silently she prayed to the value that they might return his spirit back to his body, but she knew her prayers were futile. Beside her, Balin had come, sitting next to the heir to the throne; Fili's head in his lap as he sobbed, stroking his forehead. Dwalin had rushed to his king and friends side, alongside master Baggins. Bilbo took hold of Thorin's hand and squeezed reassuringly.

"I am sorry master Baggins, for what you have endured because of my actions and words. You will always be remembered, dwarf friend..." Thorin spluttered and gasped as the arrows sunk deeper and deeper into his body. Blood trickled down from the side of his mouth, painting his cheek red. Raising his chest, knowing his last moments were upon him, he requested for the presence of his nephews. Compiling, Tauriel picked Kili up and place him beside his uncle; Balin mimicking the she elf's actions. Opening her eyes after some time of being unconscious, Anya scrambled towards the three bodies on the ground. Muttering her despair under her breath, reaching the last line of Durin, lifeless, Anya allowed her eyes to roam over the soaked bodies; soaked in tears and blood.

"No, no, no, no" Anya cried, stroking the brow of her love. "You are going to be ok, you'll see…" Thorin's breathing became laboured. Glancing up at his love with a smile that was forced through the pain, Thorin held tightly onto his nephews hands.

"I have been a fool, a wretched fool" He stated, hissing as a sudden pain coursed through his veins; the whole company had now surrounded the four bodies on the floor with sorrow etched on their faces. "I only hope that you will forgive me my actions and that Mahal will be… will be merciful to me that I might join my son and not live my death in utter despair…" Anya sniffled as emotions over took her and she bent down and placed a loving kiss on his forehead.

"I forgive you, you stubborn dwarf. Take me with you?" The blonde mortal pleaded as the smile slowly faded from the face of Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king under the mountain. Anya let out a screech of despair as the life of her beloved left him so quickly, yet so peacefully. "No! Come back you stupide man!" Anya grabbed Thorin's tunic and began to shake him viciously, but to no avail. Gloin stepped forward and grabbed the woman, lifting her weakening body from his kings.

"Lass, he's gone… he's gone…" Gloin said to her, though the statement was more of disbelief than fact. Anya wrestled against the red haired dwarf and reached for a knife that nestled in a small scabbard attached to his thigh.

"Anya, stop!" Bofur gasped, realising what she was trying to do and rushed toward her in panic before she could grab the weapon and harm herself. As he reached her and took hold of the knife, tossing it to the floor, the kind dwarf then took hold of the woman's face in his hands and stared at her but her eyes began to gradually unfocused. "Do not do such a foolish thing. Thorin would not want you to take your own life; nor would we" and with those words, the mortal woman shed sombre tears until she lost the will to gain conscious and fell limp against master Gloin.

0.0.0.

And so, solemn was the victory day. The Dwarves of Dain, alongside the Dwarves of the blue mountain began to bury their dead. The silence was eerie as body upon body was piled up on one side of the kingdom, where holes upon holes were dug on the opposite side. Feeling strongly for the loss of his kin, Dain ordered his men to bury Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews inside the kingdom in honour for what they had sacrificed their lives for; it was only fitting that after all, they resided in their home.

When relations between the Elves and Men and Dwarves had improved, and each party had thanked the other for their help in the reclamation of the Mountain, Dain was crowned the new King under the mountain, much to the slight distain of Thranduil King of Mirkwood and Balin and Dwalin sons of Fundin.

The Master of Lake Town was reinstated to the bowman who shot down the dreaded dragon Smaug; Bard paid to Bilbo what was promised and an alliance between Erebor and Lake Town formed.

Anya sat most of the days, staring into the distance in grief; though a slight relief had taken over when the elven king had lost interest in the woman when he sensed that whatever power she had inside of her to do what she did against the enemy had long left her being. Gandalf had appeared on the scene once more, sorrow filling his heart at the loss of the three members of the company and the loss of light in Anya's eyes. Feeling that the Hobbit and Anya had spent far too long on this battle field, He had suggested that they leave. And so, as the company bade their farewells to the new King under the mountain and their lost kin, the dwarves made their way back to the blue mountains; the burden of knowing that they would have to inform Dis of her loss, weighing on their should. Bidding the Hobbit, Human and She elf, the dwarves marched for their last time to their home once more; a home that was far from the standards of Erebor. Tauriel sat beside Anya, glancing at the mountain as Gandalf lifted Bilbo onto his steed. "My dear, will you return to Mirkwood?" Gandalf suddenly spoke and Tauriel glanced over to the wise wizard.

"I will not. I will accompany you to Rivendell. I shall stay there for a time until the sea calls…" She said sadness clearly evident in her tone.

"You mean to sail west then?" Gandalf inquired, raising an eyebrow as he sat upon his horse.

"That I do, Mithrandir… My heart was taken from me; there is naught else here to keep me." She explained before aiding a blank Anya up onto the second horse beside the wizard. Mounting the steed behind Anya, Tauriel gave once last glance to the mountain and then in a moment they were riding away from the place that held so much memory, so much sorrow.

Many weeks had passed as the odd company of a Hobbit, Elf, Human and Wizard had finally approached the valley of Imladris in the distance. It had been a silent journey for the adventure had taken its toll of young Bilbo, Anya had not yet broken from here revere; not eating and barely drinking, and Tauriel was in silent mourning. The silence changed however when Bilbo's eyes caught hold of the last homely house and gasped with awe and happiness. "Never will my eyes get tired of the sight before me" Bilbo muttered and Gandalf smiled, grateful to hear the Halfling speak.

"It truly is a beauty to behold" Tauriel agreed with the hobbit, smiling at the beauty of the elven realm. Not twenty minutes later did the small company gallop onto the courtyard, surprisingly greeted by the elven Lord himself.

"Mae Govannen Mithrandir! I saw you from a distance!" Elrond spoke with calmness about him and cautiously approached the woman, noting the ill look upon her face. "What has happened?" He inquired as he took a step back to allow Tauriel to jump down from the horse, holding Anya against her. "And who may you be, my dear?" The lord of Imladris said with much kindness at the red hared elf.

"Tauriel of Mirkwood, my Lord; tis a pleasure to stand before you in your glorious home" Tauriel replied, bowing her head slightly. Elrond smiled and thanked the she elf before turning to the young hobbit and noting a similar look of tiredness upon his face that resembled Anya's.

"Please, follow me. We must get them to the healing chambers…" Elrond spoke, picking young Bilbo up in his arms. Gandalf followed the Lord alongside Tauriel into the peaceful and calm residence.

"Is she ok, she has not woken for some time?" Bilbo inquired of the Lord of Imladris in the healing chamber a few days later. Elrond sighed as he wiped the woman's brow with a clean, damp cloth.

"I believe her will to live is slowly dying; she has not the heart to live on. I am not surprised with what she has endured; the loss of her son and love was tragic…"

"You can tell that by looking at her? You speak as if you know this feeling?" Bilbo quipped, clearly curious as he looked between the woman on the bed and the Elf Lord. Elrond glanced at the Hobbit and smiled very sadly.

"I do speak from experience dear Master Baggins…" Elrond stated, his mind slipping back to the day that he watched his beloved wife sail away from middle earth towards the undying lands, which one day he would meet her again upon the golden shores. Bilbo, noting the sadness in the Elf's eyes, did not pursue the conversation but kept silent. Feeling the awkwardness, Elrond continued to speak "… You are improving well Bilbo. Perhaps remaining here would please you?"

"I have thought of your kind offer; I shall take it, but not now. Right now, my heart yearns to go home, to think over my life's happenings so far."

"Of course, I understand… I think perhaps, we should make Anya as comfortable as possible…" At those words Bilbo gasped in shock, his eyes wide as he regarded the regal male. "… I am truly sorry, but there is nought I can do now. Her illness is in her heart and mind. She longs to be with those she loves…."

"… Will it be long? Will it hurt her?"

"No, I don't believe it will be long now, master Baggins... And no, it will be painless… do not trouble your heart with sorrow. She will be in paradise, in pure happiness. That is something to be thankful for. Come, I do not think it would do you well to be here when she does. I think it best you bade your farewells…" Elrond spoke softly. Bilbo nodded, tears unashamedly falling from his eyes. Leaning over the woman and kissing her forehead, he wished her everlasting happiness and thanked her for her friendship and then, in a moment, he left. Elrond sighed loudly and took the mortal woman's hand, watching her face. "Be at peace, Anya, be at peace. Namarie, dear child" Elrond whispered, and as if waiting for permission from the healer, Anya took her last breath and her spirit ascended into peace. Picking up a sheet, Elrond covered the woman's body and stood to his feet, motioning to his healers in training to prepare her body. He wanted this brave, mortal woman to be buried in his gardens.

Tauriel left that evening after sharing some comforting words with the Lord of Imladris and Bilbo. Heading to the grey havens with an escort and other elves that wished to venture to the grey haves also, the she elf reached into her pocket and pulled out a stone, a black stone, carved with ruins, and smiled at the memory of Kili holding it in his hands.

0.0.0

And so the adventure of Bilbo Baggins of the shire and Anya of Cornwall came to an End. The brave young hobbit ventured back to the Shire, and all for now in Middle Earth, seemed at Peace. FOR NOW.

"Mother?" A voice sounded in a glowing white room. Anya opened her eyes and looked about in awe at the beauty of the room she resided in. she was clad in pure white and, much to her confusion she was pain free, "Mother!" Came the voice again. The voice sounded like a thousand choirs of angels singing all at once. Turning around toward the voice, Anya watched as a blonde figure ran toward her. He was a spitting image of Thorin Oakenshield, save for the hair colour. Anya opened her arms, as if in slow motion, and welcomed the dwarfling. Running into her, holding her tight, the young dwarf trembled with joy. "Mother!" He said again with joy.

"Thariis, is it really you?" Anya asked.

"Truly it is" Another voice sounded, and looking up through tear filled eyes, Anya gasped. Thorin, unscathed and healthy walked toward the embracing couple.

"Thorin!" Anya exclaimed with sheer happiness and let go of her son to embrace her beloved. Thorin chuckled as he held her close, placing a kiss to her temple. "I knew I would see you again!" She wept in delight. Opening her eyes, looking around in joy she spotted two other dwarves standing in the distance next to another unfamiliar dwarf. "Fili, Kili?!" She gasped and the two dwarves smiled in glee. Anya quickly surmised, judging by the fact that the young dwarves held the older hands, that that was their father. "I am so very happy to be with you all again"

"As am I; I am thankful I was deemed worthy." Thorin explained, glancing between his love and his son.

"You will always be worthy in my eyes. That truly was an adventure like no other" Anya whispered in response and placed a loving kiss on the Dwarf kings lips.