Return to Sender

Title: Return to Sender
Author: Ladyholder
Fandom: The Hobbit
Warnings: Canon Typical
Wordcount: 1420
 

Astron 2942

 

“You know, when I pushed you to go take back Erebor, I wasn’t expecting you to die to do it,” a deep male voice announced as Thorin woke up.

Opening his eyes, Thorin looked around and found himself in a forge. Large and full of all the tools of a blacksmith’s trade, it looked well-used and well-loved. Standing in front of him was a man who glowed slightly in the dim light of the fire. “Mahal?”

“Yes,” Mahal confirmed. He reached out and flicked Thorin in the forehead. The contact felt like he’d gotten hit with a war hammer. Everything in his head vibrated from the touch. “Seriously, what in the hell gave you the idea it was smart to follow that white bastard as he was dragged to his death by the water? If you’d left him alone, the river would have killed him for you.”

Thorin shrugged slightly as he remembered his actions. “Seemed a good idea at the time?”

“Yeah, no,” Mahal informed him. “That would be the lingering effects of the curse on your line and the sheer dumbassedness that your family is well known for.”

“You made us,” Thorin snarked before he blushed in mortification. “Sorry.”

“No, I did and let’s be honest, I’ve never been known for being all the temperate either,” Mahal allowed. “Still, I do listen to my spouse. It would have been smart to listen to yours. As it is, yours has been talking to mine since you died.”

“Bilbo?” Thorin breathed. He winced as he thought about his actions before he’d died. “He lived?”

“He did,” Mahal confirmed. He waved a hand at the quenching pool and it turned as silver as a mirror. “Look into the pool.”

Thorin gazed into the pool and stared at Bilbo, hungry to see him again. He was walking through the woods carrying a large chest with Gandalf at his side. “Where is he?”

“He’s just cleaned out the troll cave,” Mahal informed him. “You’ve been dead about six months.”

“He didn’t stay in Erebor?” Thorin asked softly. He reached out a hand to the image before him and stopped just short of the surface. “Why?”

“Because he wouldn’t be able to cradle your children in Erebor, let alone the Desolation. It’s barely able to support food crops, let alone cradle a child,” a woman’s voice said. Over the harsh metallic scents of the forge came a warm hint of green growing things. “Too much work to recover the land will need to happen first.”

“But it would be possible to do it one day? If the Desolation was made green again?” Thorin asked carefully.

“If, Thorin Oakenshield,” the woman confirmed. She faded into view and he bowed to her without thought. She smiled at him before glancing at the picture still in the quenching pool. “You broke his heart, and now the only things keeping him on Middle Earth are your children. What do you say to that?”

“I never wanted him to be hurt. When I was sane at least,” Thorin confessed. He eyed the woman before him and made an educated guess. “Even in my madness, Lady Yavanna, I did my best not to harm him. I scared him badly, but…”

“No, you didn’t physically harm him and he knows, that,” Yavanna agreed with a nod. “And you had plenty of opportunity to harm him, but you didn’t. The scare, however, does linger.”

“I understand,” Thorin said. He turned back to look at Bilbo and smiled as the Hobbit walked into the Shire. “He looks good.”

Yavanna moved to stand by him. “He’s grieving, but has decided that he will be living the best life he can while he cradles and raises your children.”

“I wish there was some way that I could let him know that I do still love him,” Thorin said wistfully. He rubbed at the ache around his heart and then smiled. “Perhaps when he finally comes to your Gardens, milady, I will be able to let him know.”

“Uh-huh,” Yavanna hummed before she poked a finger at her husband. “Well?”

“It’s no wonder that your Hobbits are all little arseholes,” Mahal muttered as he tapped two spots in the air and pulled Fili and Kili out of it as it was water. “Okay, lads. So. You died and were buried in Erebor,” he announced as they both blinked at him. “You,” he pointed at Fili. “Left behind your One in the Blue Mountains and your mother is doing her best to keep your woman alive. And you.” here he pointed at Kili. “Your woman made her way to Rivendale by herself, right after the battle. Heaven help the stubborn mates of the line of Durin, they’ll need it!”

“Uhm,” Fili eyed Mahal before risking a glance at Thorin. At his shrug, he turned back to the god. “Neither of us planned on dying.”

“Your uncle didn’t plan on it either,” Mahal snapped. “All three of you are dumbarses! You’re lucky that I deeply love my wife and she’s good at talking Eru around.”

“Sir?” Kili interrupted. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Tauriel lived?”

“She did, son. And the little stubborn wench is currently thinking about leaving Rivendale. She doesn’t want to impose any longer than she has to,” Mahal informed him. “Hopefully she’ll head for the Shire.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Kili breathed. “Bilbo will take care of her.”

Mahal snorted softly. “That Hobbit takes care of everyone within reach. And he’s been determined that he’ll make things good for your cousins.”

“He still carries the Heartseeds?” Fili asked before he pulled his brother into a hug. “That’s good news.”

“It is. But he’s going to need help raising those kids,” Mahal said. He said nothing for several seconds as the picture of Bilbo kept walking along the path in Hobbiton. “So. You three are honestly more trouble than you are worth at the moment. My wife, after getting the idea from Bilbo, managed to talk Eru around, and I agreed to their insanity.”

“Sir?” Thorin asked as he walked up behind his boys and gathered them close. When they turned in to hug him back, he suppressed the urge to cry. For all the good news Mahal was giving them, there was no way for them to enjoy it. Everything the three of them wanted was in the world of the living.

The sigh that broke out of Mahal was long-suffering. “It’s a damn good thing I like your whole line, Thorin Oakenshield. I was even nice enough to make sure everything was clean.”

“You were, husband?” Yavanna asked archly. She slanted him a speaking glance before she held her hand out to Thorin. “I’ll be taking the Arkenstone, now. It will be staying with me.”

“Milady?” Thorin asked. He looked down at himself and stepped back to start patting his clothes. “Why would I have…” The glowing stone appeared in his hands as if he had summoned it. “Oh.”

Yavanna wriggled her fingers. “Now, please.”

Thorin handed over the gem and sighed in relief as it left his hands. “Now what?”

“Now, you wake up!” Mahal called with a clap of his hands.

 

Thorin gasped awake and looked around the crypt he’d been laid to rest in. Patting himself down, he confirmed that he was whole and uninjured. Self-inspection out of the way, he eyed the lid on the space he was in. Thankfully, crypts were designed to be opened and closed as needed. Settling himself in the best position, he pressed his legs against the lid and slowly lifted it before walking it to the side where it crashed, allowing fresh air to reach him.

“Thank you, Mahal and Yavanna for this second chance,” he murmured before sitting up. “Thank you, Eru, as well for allowing them the opportunity.”

 

 

Blotmath 2942

“What the fuck?” Dáin snapped as Thorin walked into the main receiving room in the royal residence. “You’re dead!”

“Not so much anymore, cousin,” Thorin informed him with a wry grin and a shrug. “It seems I pissed off Mahal, Yavanna, Eru, and my spouse and the gods decided to send the three of us back.”

“Why am I not surprised that you managed to piss everyone in the afterlife off?” Dáin demanded. “You were dead, right?”

“Oh, yeah, we were dead, cousin,” Fili confirmed. He stepped around Thorin and looked over the area. “Is my mother here?”

“She got here three days ago. It’s Blotmath,” Dáin said.