AN: Hello everyone! If this is your first time reading you can ignore this message and begin the sequel! However, for everyone else, this is the reminder that this is the beginning of the story's rewrite. If you would like the original back message me and I can send the entire thing to you.
Thanks!
Much love, Moe. 💛

*Thorin's POV*

The wind flows through my hair. The cool breeze kisses my skin and the hot sun warms me. The flowers are in bloom and the rains have passed. Summer is finally here. The whiney of a horse breaks my peaceful ride along the countryside. To my left, my youngest nephew, Kili, rides upon his horse. He is leaned in forcing his horse to run faster as if trying to race with me. Rolling my eyes, I can't be bothered by his childish gests. However, Tauriel flies by Kili and me in a blur heading for Dale dead ahead.

I hear the horns of the Dale cry out as the gate lowers from the tall stone walls of Dale. I along with my entourage of horsemen ride across the wooden bridge into the city. I tug the reigns slowing my horse, Jacksier, to a gallop. He pants from the run across the region back into the Kingdom's territory and I give him a pat of reassurance. Amara, one of the young she Elves from Rivendell, greets me.

"Your majesty."

I dismount and nod with a smirk "My lady."

"Lady? What Lady?"

Amara crosses her arms and scowls at Kili as he dismounts walking towards us followed by Tauriel. He smirks and walks around Amara eyeing her up and down "I will say, for a fellow, you don't look half bad."

"And as for a taken Dwarf!" Tauriel barks "I expect you to keep your eyes up and ahead."

Kill chuckles nervously before intertwining his hand with Tauriel's giving a light peck on her skin "I only have eyes for you, my lady."

"Get a chamber," Amara grumbles.

I laugh and turn back to the rest of the horsemen, Bifur, Bofur, and Gloin among them.

"Gloin, take the lads and everyone else back to Erebor. Send your weapons to Burge in the blacksmith chamber and send the horses to the stables. Reunite with your families, feast, get some rest. You've earned it."

"Say, lads, ready to drink some ale?!" Bofur asks.

They all cheer and mount on their horses again before galloping off to Erebor.

Tauriel bows "Sire, I must return to Mirkwood. King Thranduil will want to be informed of the condition beyond the borders."

I nod "Safe travels lady Tauriel."

I watch as Kili holds her hands pressing the token his mother gave him in her palms. "Be safe. I shall see you in four days' time?"

Tauriel nods before bending down kissing the Dwarf Prince. I turn my back on them and clutch my chest. Under my tunic, I can feel her necklace hidden beneath the fabric away from the eyes of the others.

As my eyes linger up, they catch Amara's gaze. Her blue hues remind me very much of Molly's. It's striking and for an instant it's as if she's standing before me.

"Thorin, are you alright?" she asks.

I smirk slightly and nod "Yes, come on, we better go see Bard."

"Thorin, son of Thrain."

I smile and clasp Bard's shoulder "Bard, my dear friend, how are you?"

He groans a little sitting in his chair. His solid white hair hangs by his shoulders and he sighs running a hand through it "As well as any old man I suppose."

I chuckle "You are not alone. Another old warrior resides with you."

"Yes, but time has not changed you such as I, Thorin Oakenshield. Not since that day on the mountain when...." His voice trails without finishing his sentence. Not that he needed to for me to understand.

I look at Bard's aged face. The wrinkles around his eyes and the bags from his long years as well as pressures of rebuilding a Kingdom. While Dwarves live exceptionally long lives, it feels as if ever since I was resurrected, I have been frozen in place. Never changing, never aging, never moving.

"Do you speak of the battle of the five armies? The woman that fought in that battle?"

My eyes widen and I realize Amara still sits across from me. Her eyes look curiously between Bard and me. She wants answers, but to retell her what happened on that fateful day would only open the wounds that have yet to completely heal.

"She was not from this world. She was kind and brave. She gave her life for Thorin. For all of us." Bard says whilst eyeing me cautiously. Seeing my disdain for this conversation Bard smirks waving his hand "It happened so long ago...Thorin, what news around the borders and outer lands?"

"No sign of Orcs, not even their weapons were found left behind."

"Tauriel says King Thranduil believes they've retreated back to the far North or Deep South." Amara says looking at us with worried eyes "It's possible, but not likely."

Bard scoffs "No, they're too insane and stir crazy to do that. They crave destruction. They won't just give it up."

I nod in agreement and a silence falls over us. We can all sense it. The Orcs are out there somewhere, sitting back and waiting to make their move. I can feel it.

"Sire?"

I turn my attention to Amara who walks next to me down the trail leading to Erebor. Her hands fidget nervously before speaking again "Sire, who was that woman? The one who saved you."

It feels as if a rock hits the bottom of my stomach. The cold icy feeling in my chest spreads from the center outward almost making me shiver.

"She's the girl carved into the stone wall with the company, isn't she?"

I nod muttering a "Yes."

Amara looks down at her feet as we walk some more. She mumbles softly as if afraid to even ask the words "Who was she to you?"

I reach up resting my hand on my chest feeling the shape of the necklace. Inhaling a deep cool breath of air I exhale and smile sadly.

"She was my best friend."

---

Amara wants answers and I suppose I am the one to give them to her. She's young, she wasn't even born when the battle of the five armies commenced. So, if she is to be the alliance general between Erebor and Rivendell, she should know the other connection that binds us.

"I wanted her to see it." I say to Amara as we converse in the throne room "To look upon the grand glowing halls of Erebor. For her to see the fine construction of Dale and how both Kingdoms united working together. When she was alive, she brought me back from my sickness, and I refuse to slip back into that dark place. She now resides only in my memories."

I look up at Amara who shares the same sad expression as me. She reaches out taking my hand "Thorin, I'm so sorry."

I nod giving Amara's hand a squeeze before quickly letting go. In her eyes, she looks sadly to me with tears threatening to spill over. Perhaps she imagines losing her beloved Lindir in the same way. Him giving his life for the sake of her own.

"Return to Rivendell, Amara. I'm sure Lindir is expecting you."

She scoffs "He is not mine Thorin. I'm sure he hasn't even noticed I left."

"Don't be so sure," I say resting my hand on her shoulder.

With a nod, she steps away holding tightly to her sword as she disappears down the stairs from the throne room. As I listen to her footsteps disappearing, I sit down on the throne. The feeling is still foreign to me. I am King under the mountain, yes, but I feel like Thorin Oakenshield is somehow still dead.