#( is this about her knowing Khuzdul? )

[blackarrcw]

@tilosecretbirb asked: Why didn't you say anything about this before?" (Fí to Elyssa)

The half-elf simply shrugged her shoulders, her attention shifting to the elder of the two brothers "Because I didn't know." At the time when she'd been offered an opportunity to accompany them upon their quest, Elyssa hadn't known that she could easily understand the words the dwarves would say in their mother tongue; Khuzdul. Her mother had kept much of her heritage from her over the years, only relinquishing what she felt her daughter needed to know.

Clear blues looked to the blonde once more, her arms folding across her chest loosely. Was he to be angry with her for not saying anything? She'd hoped not. It would pain her in many ways, losing her friend in all of it. "It wasn't as if I tried to keep it from any of you." Her words were soft, an urge to get him to understand that she truly wasn't trying to hide anything.

It was only with the encouragement of the resident Hobbit that she came out with it, after Fili had confronted - well, overheard her while she was in the library. What was she supposed to say? 'Hey look, I know you're saying things because I can understand your language?' That wouldn't have sounded good and probably would have set some of the dwarves off for a bit.

[lathalea]

The Shrieking Monster

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ This is a gift for @babe-bombadil as part of the @whiteoliphaunt 2023 exchange. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ Happy New Year everyone! 🥳

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield & Dis & little Fili & Kili Rating: G Warnings: family fluff Author's notes: A story set in the Blue Mountains about Thorin trying to be both a ruler and a good uncle at once. Young Fili and Kili are making it a tad difficult in their own cute way. Special thanks to @naryaflame for your linguistic help with a name :) If you prefer, you can read this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Thorinuldûm - Thorin’s Halls, the settlement of the refugees from the Lonely Mountain in the Blue Mountains Amad - mother

1. 

It was a perfect morning. Thorin stretched and yawned, settling himself on his favourite chair in the kitchen. The air that whiffed into the dwarven stronghold from the outside felt warm on his cheeks and smelled like spring. As he sipped his morning tea, that strong, aromatic blend Dori bought in Bree, his sister appeared at the threshold. She gave Thorin a bright smile and, seeing her steaming mug on the table, she sat next to him. The lazy silence of the early hours of the day was soon broken by the appearance of two dishevelled pebbles, one with a thatch of golden hair, the other – with his hair as brown as a bear’s fur in winter. After the mandatory morning hugs, Thorin readied breakfast while Dís prepared her sons for the day, humming to herself. Thorin could not stop himself from smiling. His sister was probably already thinking of her visit to the market. She adored going there in the morning, especially on the days when the merchants arrived with new goods – and today was one of those days. Thorin sighed. As much as he wanted her to have a very much needed moment of respite – his sister-sons were quite a handful, to put it mildly – he was painfully aware of what it was going to mean to him. Half a day of having his eyes around his head and his ears pricked up for any unusual noises they may create… or worse – the ominous silence. In the past, there was only a handful of moments when he and Dís realised that the boys went completely silent. It never bode well. 

This day, however, started with the pitter-patter of the boys’ bare feet, chatter and laughter, and the clatter of their bowls as they ate their oatmeal. Dís reminded them to behave while she was gone, and left for the market. Fíli seemed very content about this state of things, knowing well by now that staying with his mother’s brother meant visiting various places in these halls, like forges, or assisting Thorin in other exciting ways. It was different with Kíli – his loud wails of protest at being so cruelly abandoned reverberated against the walls of their home. Thorin imagined they must have followed their mother through the corridors of Thorinuldûm for a long while. Her Little Bear, as Dís called him, was still too young to understand the connection between Mommy leaving, and the sudden appearance of candied rhubarb or his favourite cream toffees.

Distracting Kíli from his misery was not easy, but Thorin managed it by offering to take the boys for a new adventure. Their big blue eyes shone as he told them they would be going to the lower levels of the city together. It was a real treat – Kíli had never been there before and Fíli visited them only a handful of times.

Thorin had a mind to visit the Engineers’ Quarter and show the lads around while discussing some technical issues with one of the water engineers. And so they began their adventure. As they descended down the wide stone stairs Kíli stumbled and yawned, so Thorin decided to carry him the rest of the way. Soon Little Bear began snoring in his arms, and Thorin attempted to ignore the fact that his own tunic was becoming gradually soaked through with his nephew’s saliva. He also started suspecting that the moniker “Little Bear” must have surely come from the fact that Kíli seemed to weigh more and more with every step, like a true bear.

“At least he is not crying,” Thorin muttered to himself, and kept on walking. Thank Mahal for silver linings.

As they arrived at their destination, however, the situation got worse. The Engineers’ Quarter was a crowded place that smelled like tar, coal, and burned leather. Not minding the much larger adult dwarves in their soot-stained clothes who carried – or carted – their wares from one place to another, curious Fíli began rushing between them, oblivious of the chaos he was creating. He took a look at the wheelwright’s workshop here, and then he had to see the toolmaker’s booth there; he then insisted on seeing how parchment was being made, and attempted to find the place where they manufactured those shiny cogwheels. If not for his golden mane, Thorin would have lost his nephew at least a couple of times. Brór, the water engineer he had a meeting with, joined Thorin in the chase for the high-spirited boy. Instead of looking at the water supply pipeline blueprints and trying to fix a problem with water pressure, they ended up unwillingly playing a hide-and-run game to the delight of the onlookers. Seeing your own king running back and forth through the great cavern with one giggling pebble strapped to his chest while chasing after the other one must have been very amusing… for anyone but him, Thorin thought with resignation. His resignation grew even more when he noticed Fíli climbing onto a tall work table… and jumping down onto a heap of coal.

When Thorin finally caught the runaway, they were both out of breath. Although it was rather Fíli who caught his uncle – the boy ran into him and clung to his left leg as if a throng of orcs chased him.

Fíli raised his teary-eyed face to Thorin and sobbed out, “A monster wanted to eat meeee…”

“A monster? Here?” Thorin’s brow furrowed.

It took him a while to reassure Fíli that no monster was going to eat him. In turn, Thorin promised to get rid of the said monster that apparently lurked in a nearby chamber, and shrieked at him. He left his nephews in the care of Brór who tried to look solemn, but his twitching lips betrayed him. Thorin grunted and entered the chamber, carefully looking around, adjusting his eyes to the dark surroundings. And then he saw two glowing points of red. And heard the shrieking.

2.

When Thorin returned to Brór, Kíli was fast asleep once again. Leaving Little Bear in the engineer’s care once again, he took Fíli’s hand and led him to the entrance of the dark chamber. When they opened the door, they both heard the continuous shrieking now. His nephew stopped and refused to walk inside, covering his ears and closing his eyes.

“There are no monsters here, Fíli.” Thorin reassured the boy. “See for yourself.”

“Nnoooo…” muttered Fíli, hiding behind his uncle.

“Do not be afraid,” Thorin added. “Nothing will hurt you here. I promise.”

On the bench by the door stood a lantern. It took him a moment to light it. With the lantern in hand, Thorin crossed the threshold and approached the nearest lantern that hung on the wall, and then another, and another. Soon, the whole chamber was bright as day, each lantern giving off a pleasant yellow glow.

“You can come in now,” Thorin smiled encouragingly.

With his ears covered and his eyes set on the shrieking, wobbling entity in the middle of the chamber, Fíli shook his head.

“This is not a monster.” Thorin stepped towards the huge bulbous shape that made so much noise. He placed his hand on the top of the strange shaking thing and added, “This is a washing barrel.”

Fíli blinked and took a good look at it. The two red glowing points did not look like a pair of evil eyes any longer. Those were two ball-shaped lanterns standing on top of the… thing. That shrieking noise now seemed to sound like a couple of cogwheels that needed a bit of oil, and not like a monster’s screech. And the arm that seemed to reach out to grab him before, turned out to be a cast iron lever.

“A… barrel?” Fíli looked at his uncle and took one uncertain step towards him and the strange contraption.

“Correct. A barrel that washes your clothes,” Thorin explained in an even voice and at the same moment the shrieking stopped. “Look, it has just finished the washing cycle. Let me show you how it works. First, you open this hatch, like so… Watch out for the water! These clothes are clean, they only need to be wrung out and dried.”

As he spoke, Fíli slowly started closing the distance between them, his eyes becoming wider and wider.

“... but if you want to wash your clothes,” Thorin continued, “you need to put them inside, here, and add some soap suds. Then you close the hatch, pour some water here, crank this lever a few times, do this, like so, and wait for the washing barrel to finish its work!”

Thorin kept on talking until Fíli seemed to be completely in awe of this new piece of machinery, his fear completely forgotten. He peppered his uncle with tons of questions: how many cogwheels were there, how many times one should crank the lever, what the barrel was made of… and so on, and so forth. When they left the chamber, there was a big smile on the boy’s lips instead of tears. 

On their way back home Fíli exclaimed, “This was the bestest adventure ever!”

Thorin thought that sometimes being an uncle happened to be quite rewarding. Even if his tunic was still wet from Kíli’s sleepy drooling.

***

His attitude completely changed less than half an hour later, when his nephews disappeared. Both of them. At once.

Stumbling over several painfully angular wooden toys, Thorin searched the boys’ bedroom. Nothing. He even looked under their beds (twice!), but there was no sign of the boys anywhere. They weren't sitting in the common kitchen nor searching for snacks in the pantry. Nor in Dwalin’s rooms where Kíli liked to play hide-and-scare with the big warrior. There were nowhere to be found – not in the rocking chair by the fireplace, nor even in Balin’s study by that large desk where Fíli liked to play so often. Thorin closed his eyes. If he did not find his nephews before Dís returned from the market, his sister would have Thorin’s own head on a spike. The wrath of dwarf-women was ten times fiercer than the one of dwarf-men. In the case of his little sister, the number was much higher, at least a hundred times. And Thorin would do everything he could to avoid being on the receiving end of it.

There was no time to lose. He recruited Dwalin, Óin, and Halkatla, Balin’s wife, to the task of finding the boys, but they returned empty-handed. No one had seen the boys since their early lunch. Then, they were supposed to take a nap, and Thorin remembered their yawning as they closed the door to their bedroom behind him.

And now they were gone. Kidnapped? — No, impossible, Thorin thought. Dwarves cherished their children like the greatest treasures they were, and no one else was allowed into Thorinuldûm. There were no goblins nor other dangers here either. It felt as if the boys magically disappeared in a puff of smoke. Thorin looked around the wide corridor he stood in, but he found no traces of the missing boys.

“Have you checked all of their favourite places?” Halkatla asked, her red-and-silver braids clinking as she turned her head towards Óin.

“Aye, we did,” he nodded. “Not a sign of them.”

“Those wee rascals! I bet they are up to somethin’.” Dwalin said. “They remind me of us. Remember that time, Thorin, when we were around their age or so, and half of Erebor was lookin’ for us all day long?”

“It would be difficult to forget it,” Thorin admitted. “We wanted to avoid another boring lesson with our tutor…”

“...and instead we went to explore the mines! What a shame we lost our way,” Dwalin grinned and nudged him. “It was fun!”

“Aye, fun on an empty belly. If only you had not forgotten our food,” Thorin replied, relieved that his nephews had a proper meal at least.

“If only ye had not forgotten that map ye were supposed to borrow from your father’s desk,” Dwalin chuckled.

Before Thorin could form an adequate riposte, a mousy-haired dwarf approached him.

“M’lord, Master Brór says that the pipeline is fully functional again,” the messenger bowed.

Thorin gave him a nod of thanks. At least he brought a piece of good news. Master Brór was a skilled engineer, and the way he handled Thorin’s own sister-sons…

“Either way,” Dwalin continued, “we had a real adventure on that day, hadn’t we, Thorin?”

A thought appeared in Thorin’s mind. Master Brór. An adventure.

“There was one place where we have not searched yet,” he turned to his companions.

“I am listening,” Halkatla tilted her head, reminding him of a curious raven.

“The Engineers’ Quarters.”

***

Master Brór was more than happy to receive words of thanks from Thorin in person for fixing that pipeline issue once and for all. Despite Thorin’s hopes, he had not seen Fíli or Kíli since they left the Engineers’ Quarters with their uncle earlier that day. Dwalin muttered a curse under his breath.

“Well, that’s it. I’m goin’ to check the workshops,” the warrior said.

“I’ll take the ones on the left, you take the ones on the right,” Halkatla followed him.

“Let’s go,” Dwalin replied, his voice trailing off as he walked away. “And those wee cave bats would better be there or I swear…”

Master Brór addressed Thorin, “I will spread the word as you requested, my lord. Someone must have seen them, I am certain of it. They could not have simply disappeared.”

Thorin agreed with him and began his own search. The rocks could not have swallowed them whole! Magic was out of the question as well, there had to be a logical solution to this! Thoring pulled at his short beard in frustration. Wandering through the area and looking for any signs of his nephews in places they visited earlier that day, he wondered if Óin had any luck. The healer was waiting at their home in case Fíli and Kíli returned there on their own. Perhaps the three of them were already sitting by the fire, with Óin telling the boys countless amusing stories, while Thorin and his companions were checking every nook and cranny on the lower level, going out of their minds with worry. He raised his head, listening to a peculiar sound and trying to figure out its source. It sounded like… shrieking. It was not at all difficult to recall Fíli’s eyes shining with fear, awe, and then curiosity at the sight of the washing barrel.

Without thinking, Thorin turned his steps towards the chamber that housed the “monster” Fíli had been so afraid of not so long ago.

When Thorin arrived at his destination, the door was ajar. Thorin could hear the shrieking very well, but there were other sounds too. Very familiar sounds.

He took a deep breath and shouted, “Dwalin! I found them!”

***

When Thorin stepped inside the chamber, the sounds became even clearer. One of them he identified as uncontrollable giggling, and the other one, slightly muted, sounded like: “Woooo! Woooo! Wooooo! A carousel! Woooo! Faster, Fíli! Woooo!”

Thorin breathed out a sigh of relief only to be struck by a pang of dread a moment later.

Fíli stood by the washing barrel, cranking the lever, grinning from ear to ear, and laughing. Kíli was nowhere to be seen, but his enthusiastic shouts seemed to be coming from inside of the barrel. Inside, not outside. Thorin swallowed; he considered screaming in terror, but something told him that this was most definitely an example of behaviour unworthy of a king. It took him a moment to melt the ball of ice that was forming in his stomach. He closed the distance between him and the barrel in a blink of an eye.

Thank Mahal, the hatch was open. Inside, Kíli sat with his back against a wall of the large metal container inside the machine, surrounded by various articles of laundry, with a happy grin on his face, and a stray sock on top of his head. A wave of relief washed over Thorin.

“Uncle Thorin! Uncle Thorin!” Fíli exclaimed. “We’re playing carousel! Want to jump in?”

Thorin did not.

“It is time to return home, boys,” Thorin simply said, taking Kíli out of the barrel. His clothes were damp and he smelled like those violet flowers Dís liked so much, but other than that, he looked happy, and what’s more important, he was in one piece – just like his older brother.

“But uncle...” Fíli started.

“Your amad will be home soon. Do you not want to see what she bought at the market?”

“A sugar horse? She promised!” The boy recalled his favourite treat.

Holding Kíli firmly against his chest with one arm, Thorin held out his hand to Fíli.

“Let us go and see,” he said with a smile as his nephew’s tiny hand grabbed his.

There would yet be time for scolding and for a conversation about not sneaking out anywhere alone, but for now, the only thing that Thorin wanted was to safely bring his little rascals home.

He only hoped they would manage to reach their halls before Dís returned.

***

When Dís crossed the threshold of their home later in the afternoon, she was greeted by complete silence. Her sons were nowhere to be seen, which was very suspicious. They were always the first ones to run to her and see what she brought them this time. She expected Thorin to welcome her and help her unpack her basket, as usual — but he was not there either. Was this that ominous silence she dreaded so much whenever her boys were executing another of their silly mischiefs? Not really. It seemed as if their home was empty… until she heard a familiar sound coming from a nearby chamber. Dís put the basket on the floor and tiptoed deeper into their halls.

The picture that unfolded before her eyes was the last thing she had expected. Her brother was half sitting, half lying on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him, his head resting on the backrest, his eyes closed. Fíli was cuddled up to his uncle’s side, his hair tousled, making her think of a skein of golden yarn. Kíli lay on the opposite side of his uncle, his head resting on Thorin’s lap and turned towards her. He had his thumb in his mouth. Dís could clearly see the darker stain of drool on her brother’s trousers and stifled a giggle. 

All three of them were asleep, of course. And all three of them were snoring in perfect unison. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine that she had a working sawmill in front of her.

This scene was too adorable for Dís to interrupt it, so she decided that she would let her three boys sleep a little longer. There was no harm in a little nap, after all. Besides, she was tired, and there was still some space left on the sofa…As she drifted off to sleep beside them, her last conscious thought was: “Why do all three of them smell like my lavender laundry soap?”

💙💙💙 Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it! 💙💙💙

📜 Searching for more stories to read? Check out my masterlist!📜

Do you like my writing? Would you like to read more? Feel free to show your support by having a Ko-fi with me! Thank you 💙

Special taglist (once upon a time you requested to be tagged in this story): @gwen-ever, @oaken-dick, @fizzyxcustard, @shrimpsthings, @cassiabaggins

General taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed): @I-am-the-raven-queen @ruthoakenshield @asgardianhobbit98 @justfollowtheroad @therealpizzaplanetdeliveryguy @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings​ @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @legolasbadass @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @mrsdurin @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry  @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512 @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff 

[morganandmolly]

Request: How about a fluffy little one-shot were Fili introduces the girl he has been courting (in secret) to his family at a family dinner...

@putm I hope you like it!!! I had so much fun writing this!!! 💖

An Unexpected Dinner

You had no idea what to do with your hands. You wrung them-un wrung them. Twisted and turned the rings on your fingers, and at this point, had resorted to biting your nails.

Who would blame you, though? Meeting the family of your love would result in anyone having a near nervous breakdown.

But Fili, oh sweet, sweet Fili had reassured you time and time again that it was ok, constantly kissing your brow, the braids handing from his beard always tickling your face.

It was one thing to meet their family, but another thing when you had been courting in secret.

Fili had not wanted to be so secretive about your relationship, as was the nature of Dwarves, always furiously proud of their One, but it had been you who had wanted to initially.

You were so scared they would not approve of you, so absolutely terrified that they would break you and Fili apart. He was heir to the newly reclaimed Erebor and you were just you. Nothing special, just a girl he had happened to fall in love with.

So this is where you were standing in the cavernous halls of Erebor, still wringing, twisting and biting the nails of your now sweaty hands. You didn’t want to wait any longer. Fili had promised to retrieve you for dinner but your mind kept spinning, and once that happened, there was no turning it off.

You were so deep in your thoughts, you hardly noticed a thick arm wrapping around your waist. The braids tickled your ear, and suddenly, all was right in the world.

“My love, what are you doing here? I told you I would come get you.”

A rich warm musk enveloped your senses. Just the scent of him made you feel safer and more calm.

You turned, keeping his arm tucked firmly around your waist, and looked up at him.

“I was nervous, I couldn’t….well, I couldn’t wait any longer.” You cast your eyes down, now feeling sheepish.

He put your chin beneath his thumb and forefinger, his gaze softening infinitely.

“There is nothing to be worried about. I’ve wanted you to meet them for as long as I’ve known you. I already know they’ll love you, just as I do Amralime.”

That was all it took for your heart to melt. He crushed you against him, his lips meeting yours. You found yourself twirling the bead at the base of one of his braids.

You broke apart and took a deep breath.

He held out his hand,

“Come, my love..”

*****

The door leading to the Kings dining hall was larger than expected. Dwarven iron, detailed with Khuzdul and engravings stared right back at you.

Fili knocked once, then twice. Your heart skipped, suddenly finding its home in your throat.

The next few seconds would undoubtedly determine your future.

“Enter,” a commanding voice spoke. Thorin. King under the Mountain and uncle to Fili.

With reaffirming squeeze, Fili opened the door.

“Hey Fi, about time, I was thinking you got lo-“

Kili stopped, the smile on his face dropping for three seconds, before he took you in, firmly grasping Fili’s hand, and broke out into the widest, goofiest grin you’ve ever seen.

“Well hello, there,” Kili’s voice dropped an octave, and he winked at her.

“Leave her be, Ki.” Fili chastised his younger brother, a dusting of pink coloring his cheeks, but she wasn’t as interested in them as she was in the raven haired king sitting at the head of the table.

“Uncle, this is-“

“I know who this is.”

She had never quite grown accustomed to the deep baritone of the kings voice. It was a reminder of his power; his commanding authority.

Fili stiffened beside her. Oh no. This. This was what she was afraid of.

Thorin sat, hands steepled and gaze hardened, looking directly at her. Her heart had lodged itself further in her throat, threatening to explode at any given second.

An assortment of food lay on the oak table. Meads, ales, breads and meats but her stomach was filled with nerves and only nerves.

“King Under the Mountain. That is my title, Fili. Do you really think my heir can go sneaking around the castle, courting a woman, without my knowledge?”

The question was rhetorical.

Kili answered anyway.

“No, uncle he can’t,” despite the words, Kili’s face and demeanor remained bright, eyes gleaming mischievously.

Fili, ever the older brother, reached out and smacked Kili up top the head.

“Ow!”

She hadn’t even realized she had brought her other hand over, and clasped it tightly to the one she was holding with Fili’s.

“Uncle, I-“

She stopped him before Fili could finish.

It was now or never to be brave, and she had put this off for too long.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your grace.” She curtsied to the best of your ability, although it was probably not near as good as what the king had seen in court.

She took a deep breath. “I want to apologize. I never meant to keep anything from you. Fili didn’t either. It was my idea to keep it a secret. I was just….well…” you trailed, and took looked at Fili, your sweet prince.

Fili, who had always supported you, encouraged you, loved you like no other. Fili, who would have gone to ends of the earth if it meant your happiness. Your Fili.

His gaze softened and his eyes told her to keep going.

Your resolve hardened and you looked back at Thorin.

It was time to be brave.

“I was afraid, your grace. You see, I love Fili something terrible, and I was concerned as I am not of noble birth that you would forbid me from seeing him. That’s why we kept it secret. But I love your nephew. If there is one thing I want you to know, it is that. ” And there it was. A weight you hadn’t even known you’ve been carrying, dissipated from your shoulders.

Something flickered in Thorin’s eyes.

Fili turned your head, replacing the same movement with his fingers on your chin like earlier.

“That would never happen. You are my love, my light, the air in which I breath and all that surrounds me.”

Your heart clenched at his words. You squeezed his hand.

“As you are mine.”

Kili sighed from the table and clutched a hand over his chest, “Don’t you just love love, uncle?”

Thorin stood, apparently deciding to ignore Kili and walk over to where they stood.

He stopped three paces from where they stood.

He looked at her, once up and once down, and steadied his gaze. His face revealed nothing.

Then, something happened that defied whatever she could have expected to happen, to happen.

Thorin smiled.

He clasped a hand on her shoulder.

“Well, I certainly can’t disagree with that. It is a pleasure to finally meet you. “

*****

Kili’s smile was even brighter somehow , and could barely hold still, already calling you ‘sister’ and telling you how you need to meet Tauriel, as he believed the two of you would have gotten along wonderfully.

“Come now, Fi! My One is an elf and uncle approved of us. Well, not at first, but eventually!This is a piece of cake compared to that!”

You had laughed at that. Kili did make a good point.

Fili never stopped touching you. If his hand wasn’t in yours, it was on your leg. His fingers would deftly brush a piece of hair behind your ears, or his shoulder would bump into your own. I’m right here, he is saying. I love you.

“So, sister,” Kili grinned, propping up his head on his hand, “When’s the wedding? Fili she does know about courtship rituals, right? As well as braiding and the eventual wedding night consumma-” Thorin placed a thick hand over Kili’s mouth, stifling the rest of his words.

Your cheeks flushed tomato red and you looked to your lap. You would not be the one to answer. Sure, you were courting and naturally the discussion of marriage was something to be brought up, but you and Fili hadn’t talked about that yet.

Of course you wanted to marry him. How could you not?

“Brother, I think my love has had enough interrogation for one day,” Fili squeezed your hand and you were grateful for the reprieve. But the question still prodded at the back of her mind. Fili did want to marry her….didn’t he?

******

The rest of the dinner was a splendid affair, Thorin beaming, listening to the tale of you and Fili met. You could see pride in the kings eyes. He obviously held his heir and nephew in the highest regard. Fili praised you, recounting tales of your beauty, bravery and how more deeply in love he became with you day by day.

Mahal, how could she have gotten so lucky.

The dinner did eventually end, with Thorin inviting you to the next one, “With Mother, this time!” Kili made sure to add.

Two down, one to go. Although, you had never been too concerned about Kili. But you had seemingly one over the King under the Mountain, and today, that would be enough. She would deal with meeting his mother another day.

******

A breeze blew softly on the rampart. She had always loved coming here with Fili. It had been an escape for them. Somewhere for just the two of them.

A few tendrils of hair blew and you tucked them behind your ear and breathed deeply.

“So, was it as bad as you were expecting?”

You smiled, turning to the voice behind you.

You put on a fake stern look. “Worse, in fact. I fear, I may have to never return.”

Fili feigned pain, clutching at his chest, “You wound me, my lady. I fear I may never recover at your absence.”

A laugh bubbled out of you and he walked closer. His arm running the length of your arm, a comforting gesture.

He looked at you then, the way he always looked at you. Blue eyes softening and a smile peaking out from his lips. His golden hair was illuminated by the moonlight, giving him an ethereal glow. He could have been one of the Valar in this light.

“I love you….you know that, right?”

“You better, especially after all I put up with tonight.” You meant for the remark to come off as lighthearted, but the smile he gave didn’t reach his eyes.

He fidgeted with his hands, and looked down. She couldn’t help but think about the exact same thing she had been doing just hours ago.

“Fili…” she said softly. He looked up at her and then her chest tightened in the sweetest way.

Tears glistened at the corner of his blue eyes and suddenly worried she had done something wrong. Had Thorin changed his mind and said something to the effect of them not being together?

She cupped his face, gently wiping a tear with the pad of her thumb. He closed his eyes, relishing in her hand and leaned his face into it.

“Everything I said earlier was true, you know…” his voice was husky, but barely above a whisper.

“I knew I loved you the moment I set my eyes on you. Not only are you beautiful, but…you’re brave. Braver than I. And strong. And you love….well….you love fiercely, otherwise I probably wouldn’t be crying.”

A choked laugh escaped her, and she realized her eyes felt watery too.

He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

“What I’m trying to say is…” he trailed off, and reached for something in his deep blue velvet tunic.

A breath hitched in her throat, and she could have swore the whole of Arda stopped.

Fili knelt-not on one, but both knees in front of her. Not just a pledge, but a worship.

“I had these made the day after we met.” He opened his palm.

Her lip trembled.

A ring and a bead.

They hadn’t even been together yet, and he had them made. He had had so much faith from their first encounter that he knew- he knew-he would marry her.

The Golden Prince looked up at her with so much love. So much tenderness and raw hope. A stray tear escaped again.

“There is nothing in this world I want more than to be your husband. I knew it from the moment I looked at you. I knew there was no way I would let you go without eternally pledging my life, my soul and my heart to you. All of which you have become. You are my One.”

A sob escaped her, and she found herself down on her own two knees as well, cupping his face with her hands.

“Yes. There is nothing I want more.”

Fili’s smile rivaled the sun and moon together. His shining blue eyes, his tear streaked face. He was undoubtedly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

He took her hand gently, his thicker fingers encasing her own, and slid the ring on. A sturdy piece of Dwarven craft, engraved with intricacies she would most definitely ask about later rested coolly now on her fourth finger.

“And this,” he said handing out the bead. She took it, also cool and heavy in her palm.

They stood, and before she could even reorient herself on her feet, he was pulling her into him, arms wrapping around her waist and lips pressed together in a fiery kiss.

“You have made me the happiest Dwarf alive.” His voice was still raw with emotion.

She laughed and kissed him again. He pulled her tight and twirled her around.

“And you have made me the happiest woman. Now…”

She held up the bead in the moonlight, and thanked her old self that she had worn her hair down for the evening.

“Put a braid in my hair.”

[shrubdaddy]

elucidative | l.greenleaf

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: elucidative |. /ih-loo-si-deyt/ | verb | to make lucid especially by explanation or analysis | y/n is only a little dumb

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: legolas x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k

a/n: Hiii - Sorry I've been MIA - work has been a bit more hectic and I've been having a hard time finding time to write! I could not stop thinking about the Bridgerton scene with Charlotte and George. Lightly inspired by @reality-warp 'Rávamë’s Bane Trilogy', quite literally one of my all-time fave fics and authors in this fandom and is a literal queen in world and character building so check out her fics if you haven't already!

copyright © | please do not repost my work.

“Manwë’s breath, how much higher can this wall get?”

Reaching for yet another tendril of the vines climbing up the wall, you attempt to climb higher up the stone wall.

It was a precarious situation — one in which you did not expect to be but were not entirely surprised to find yourself in.

You scaled the stone walls attempting to reach the top of the wall to escape yet another suitor. With flowing sleeves laced with snagged threads and leaves woven into your hair, you don’t quite know how long you’ve been attempting your half-scattered escape plan. At this moment, all you knew was that you’d been in this dreaded courtyard for over an hour and you would not be waiting another minute to be trapped and shackled for the next “prince” to come around.

As a ward of Lord Glorfindel, you were of course expected to adhere to the life of a lady in every way possible. You’ve studied every subject, attended every lesson from etiquette and mannerisms to reading and writing in Khuzdul, and attended each and every dreadful social event your father has encouraged.

Feeling your grip falter yet again, you stumble backward and glare at the very metaphoric yet also a very real wall in front of you.

You have always strived to be the perfect daughter in every way possible. However, in regard to love and courtship, you refuse to follow the ancient, decrepit tradition. Between the many years of dodging conversations and offers of marriage, you’ve reached way past the age of courtship, spending many years avoiding each and every suitor thrown your way.

Rather than bubbling with excitement, you felt the fear of the unknown settle in. Having so much to live for and not enough time to experience, you think of your time spent with the twins and the Rangers of the North — time spent traveling, exploring, and living.

You remember joining the twins and meeting Aragorn… meeting Legolas. He was an elven ranger you befriended through Aragorn. He was strong and sturdy, and for a moment you thought you were in love. The camp up North was a place where not many talked of their past but where they all focused on the present. It was a simple life but it was the life you were able to create for yourself.

Lost in the thoughts of the slow spiral of your sanity, you didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind you as you reached yet again for the closest, protruding stone on the wall —

“What in the world are you doing?”

Without turning to even see who it is, you let go of one hand waving your intruding guest away.

“Please mind your own business, sir. You can escort yourself out — possibly, somewhere that is anywhere but here.”

You continue your ascent without a second thought but slipped down the wall as stone slowly tore up your hands. Stepping back, you place your hands on your hips and take a look at the growing annoyance in front of you. This stupid wall.

You hear an exasperated sigh behind you and felt someone lightly, grab your shoulder, pulling you from behind.

“Excuse me, sir. But you will unhand or you risk losing your… Legolas?”

Turning around, you were shocked by the familiar face of someone you were completely and utterly infatuated with over the past couple of years. Paralyzed and flustered, you couldn’t help but notice how clean and ethereal — you have never seen him this clean before; his muddied boots were somehow clean and the ragged pants you were so used to was exchanged for a less holey look. Somehow these fit even better. You feel your eyes gaze up but froze — you were staring too long.

“Lose my what?” he asked with a little smug grin.

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing. On the contrary, you can keep everything… It was nothing…” you rambled as you quickly turned around.

You hear him step a bit closer, coming behind you on your side to examine the wall you were so desperately climbing less than a second ago.

“What in Arda are you doing here, Y/n?” he said with his curious, blue eyes. Though a few feet away, just his presence causes your mind to go in a scramble.

“Me? What are you doing here?” you exasperated. Fiddling with your hands, you begin pacing back and forth, pretending to examine every bit of the wall, looking anywhere but him.

Look anywhere but his eyes, Y/n. That is how we’ll survive his cursed beauty.

“You are climbing a wall. If anyone should be questioned, it is you,” he bit back.

You quickly move your shoulder to release his grip and turn around.

“First of all, I live here. Second of all, please do mind your business, Legolas. I am quite a bit … oof … I’m quite a bit busy here. and I’m running out of time.”

Stepping towards the wall, you begin to attempt to climb yet again. If anything, it was to break free from his distracting grip on your body. Ignoring the growing warmth on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but notice how large and warm his hand was and how one touch made you feel like hot honey dripping down your body.

Shaking off the startling moment, you were determined to leave. And even he could not stop you.

“What in the world are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re doing something.”

“I am not”

“Yes… you quite obviously are are.”

“I am n o t.”

“Yes… you are,” he said firmly.

Relenting — you turn back around to face him. Beautiful face and all. You notice how his head is turned slightly down, his eyebrows furrowing just the slightest beginnings of a small smirk staring down at you.

“Fine,” you relented. “If you must know, I am trying to figure out the best way to climb over this disgustingly high wall and escape this dreaded meeting with this so-called ‘prince.’”

“You’re trying to what? With who? Whatever for?”

“Well, the first thing — hmph …” you grunt as you turn back around to attempt to climb for the fifth time in a row. “The first thing is that my dearest father has been parading me around to different suitors, a Lord here, a Duke there — and now, um, it’s apparently another ‘prince’.”

You take a step back because rather than focusing on climbing, you feel a sense of frustration overcome you. The situation of late has finally dug its claws into you... feeling a greater weight on your shoulder than you have originally led yourself to believe. You feel him standing behind you — the burning intensity of his stare on your back.

“No one has spoken of him… no one has spoken of this so-called Prince of Mirkwood?” You continued, “What if he has the personality of a gremlin and the looks of a troll? The Valar knows the little patience I have for men.”

“Gremlins and trolls aside — does what he looks he really matters to you? ” he asked.

“No… Of course not. It’s the not knowing and the fact that I do not know him or his heart that I do not like.

You take a step back to take a look once more at the wall in front of you. Glaring with all of your might, in hopes that your internal rage can burst a whole through these dreaded walls.

“Y/n —you must know... “ Legolas began.

Your eyes run through all the nooks and cranny’s vine-covered stone beast, ignoring Legolas’s words for only a second. There it is. A protruding stone just two feet away from the top. You found one last way you have yet to try.

“Thank the Valar! I think I found a way.”

You walk towards the wall once again, mapping out the new path of vines and protruding stones.

“I think if I can just reach this stone I can lift myself up! If you lift me just a little, I believe I can reach that vine and use these stones to climb up,” you said excitedly.”

“You want me to lift you up… so that you may… escape?”

“Yes, obviously. Did you not hear of threatening the gremlin-troll prince? Please, Legolas.”

“Your father will know that you are missing? The twins have just arrived as well?”

“Those are tomorrow’s problems, Legolas. The prince will be coming today,” you whined.

As you begin your ascent, you feel your foot slipping from the stone. Despite this, you stretched your hand above your head to grab the vine. As you reached, you feel the stone beneath your foot crumble and in a matter of seconds you find yourself falling.

“Lego—”

“Y/n,” he cuts you off. “I have no intention of helping you escape.”

Standing a little too close, you can feel the warmth emanating from his body. As you gaze up to his face, you see he’s wearing an emerald green tunic, soft and silky — something far nicer than the typical garb you always see him in.

“And why not? There is little time to —.”

Your finally glance up to look him in the eyes and —

“You’re wearing a crown,” you blankly stated.

Confused, you oh-so-slowly begin to piece the puzzle together.

“Yes, I am wearing crown,” a small grin appearing on his smugged face.

“Where in the world did you get a crown?”

“It was given to me,” he said as he looked around feigning boredom.

“By who?!” you retort.

“My father.”

“Your father? What does— is he like a king?”

“He is a king,” he said frankly.

“Which makes you a — “ you slowly piece the information together.

“A prince? Yes, a gremlin-troll prince to be exact,” he retorts with now a full grin and staring down at you.

“And you said nothing?” You frantically exclaimed.

“I figured you’d realize at some point,” he chuckled.

You stood there reflecting on all your life decisions at once. Every conversation, every hidden glance. He was a prince.

“I thought it was common knowledge and that you knew of my title,” he said quietly. “I apologize for not disclaiming it sooner.”

“So if what you’re saying is true…” you teased. “You just assume everyone thinks of you as royalty? That’s quite the assumption”

“Y/n, you know I did not mean it like that,” he groaned.

With a little giggle, you stepped away from him and asked “Should I call you, sir?”

“…Y/n, what?”

“Oh my, I’ve never bowed.” Your voice shifts into worry, “Is this grounds for beheading?”

“Y/n, no.”

“I should bow.”

“No— you should not.”

“I’ll bow.”

“Y/n — stop.”

“Please sir, I am merely a lowly peasant. Have mercy, your highness,” you exclaimed as you lower your head and drop into the deepest curtsy.

As he attempts to stop you, he reaches for your arm hoping to put an end to your jester.

As you back away and dodge, you look at him, batting your eyelashes, and cry “My liege, spare me from this punishment I only wish to live.”

Ears turning red with a desperate voice, he begs “Y/n, please.”

As you step back once more, he’s quicker this time and grabs your arm, pulling you close. your chest crushed against his, he drops one of his hands to your waist and the other to your back. You were so close you felt his breath caress your face. As you look up, you find him staring intently at you.

As you stare at each other, you couldn’t help but break into giggles over the preposterous situation. As you begin to giggle, he looks away trying to hold in his laughter, only to also laugh at the situation.

It felt nice — to feel free and silly, if only for a moment.

As both your laughter calms down, he looks back down at you asked, ”So what do you think of the gremlin-troll prince?”

“Nothing too horrid, he’s actually quite dashing,” you teased.

“Dashing, hmm?” he chuckled.

Unaware of everything around you, you were both startled to hear the courtyard doors open with footsteps following. Jumping from each other's arms, you separated a good distance away only for you to see your father and Elrond turn into the corner section you were standing in.

“Oh, good. You’ve met!”

[scapingthebottomofthebarrel]

I Think I’m Gonna Be Sick (Kili x GN!Reader)

You sit quietly at the table trying to take in all the information. “Why do I have to go?” You ask sounding more scared than you’d like. Thraduils face remains unreadable so you look over at Legolas for answers.

“It’s time for you to go find your roots. It’s the perfect time. It’s a new start for everyone .” He explains with a sad smile. Legolas had found you in the forests of Greenwood when you were a baby and had demanded that Thranduil let you stay. How he did that is beyond you as you are very obviously a dwarf, but he did and you had grown up in the palace with Legolas as your father figure. That is what had led up to this current moment. Thranduil had just informed you that the king of the newly reclaimed kingdom of Erebor had agreed to let you come live there and that his sister would be coming to bring you to your new home in a month. You aren’t sure what to say. “You know that I love you more than anything. It’s because I do that this has been agreed upon. You are a dwarf and you deserve a chance to learn about your people.”

“They aren’t my people! You are! I’ve never known another dwarf. All I know is Greenwood and Rivendale and Lothlorien! I am home!” You cry looking desperately between Legolas and Thranduil

“This is your home and always will be, but you know that you need this. You can feel it in your bones.” Thranduil finally says and you hate that he’s right.

“Think of it as being a diplomat. You can forge a better relationship between the elves and the dwarves. You can always come home. Don’t ever doubt that. I just want you to try.” Legolas looks heartbroken but he is firm in his words. You let out a shaky breath and nod.

“She’s coming in a month?” You ask. They both nod and wait expectantly for your response.

“I’ll try. For Greenwood.” You say after some more thought. Legolas hugs you tightly. You struggle to come to terms with what your life will be in a month, but you know you need to try. Maybe this will settle that restless part of yourself. “I’ll need to start studying khuzdul. I don’t think elvish will do me much good there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you ready?” Legolas asks softly.

“As I’ll ever be.” You sigh watching as the last trunk is carried out of your room. Legolas rushes forward and hugs you tightly.

“You’ll always have a home here, but please try your best.” He whispers. You stifly nod as you wrap your arms around him. After a moment he pulls back and leads you out of your room and to the throne room. As the doors slowly open you see a woman about your height looking around impatiently.

“Lady Dis please understand I’m just as ready as you are for you to leave.” Thranduil sighs from his throne. “Ah, there they are.” The woman, lady Dis, quickly whips around and smiles at you brightly.

“Hello dear. I’m Dis. It’s so wonderful to meet you.” Her kindness throws you off. While you are a dwarf, you were raised with elves so you expected some sort of resistance from her. She makes her way to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “We’ll be leaving once you’ve said your good byes. Take your time.” You can’t do anything but nod. You make your way over to the throne and look up at Thranduil.

“Your kindness will never be forgotten. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful home.” You finally get out. Your eyes are watery and you have to fight to keep your voice level. Thranduil cracks the smallest smile and nods.

“I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.” You smile back and nod. Next your go over to Legolas for one last hug.

“I’ll miss you so much.” You whisper.

“We’ll always be here for you.” He whispers back. After a moment you let go and walk over to lady Dis. She gives you a kind smile and with one last glance at the only family you’ve ever known, you follow her out the door and to your next great adventure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You feel yourself being softly shaken and slowly open your eyes. “We’re here.” Dis says with a large smile. “Welcome to Erebor.” You quickly move to look out the window of the carriage and are shocked at what you see. Dis was the first dwarf you’d ever met and now you’re looking out at a sea of them. “I’ll take you to your room and you can freshen up then I’ll take you to meet Thorin.” All you can do is nod as you continue to look around.

Once the doors to your new room close behind you you flop down on the bed. “You got this. You’ll do great. No pressure. You’re just about to meet Thranduil's sworn enemy. No pressure.” You mutter to yourself. You take a moment to pull yourself together before you do as Dis said and get ready to meet Thorin.

When you’re ready you poke your head out the door. There’s no one in the hallway except for a blonde dwarf. You can’t help but smile at the beaded braids that hang next to his mouth. Elves don’t have facial hair so you couldn’t help but think his was odd, but it fit him. “Hello. I’m Fili, crown prince of Erebor. My mother had something to attend to, so I will be taking you to meet my uncle.” His smile is just as kind as his mothers. You silently follow his through the halls trying to remember any land marks to help you feel a little less lost. “What do you think?” He asks, noticing your careful examination.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s beautiful.” You could never have imagined that Erebor would be like this. It was breathtaking.

“You can see why we fought so hard to get it back.” All you can do is nod. “I hope you will grow to see it as a home.” He gives you another soft smile and stops in front of a large set of doors. He pushes them open and your eye immediately go to the dwarf on the throne. All the nerves hit you at once. You shakily curtsy once your reach the bottom on the steps that the thrown is at the top of.

“Yo-your majesty.” Your words are scarcely more than a whisper.

“So this is the dwarf raised by elves.” Well he’s certainly not one to beat around the bush. “Welcome to Erebor and welcome home.” You bite back the words that this is not in fact your home and it may never be, but you know better than to say that to Thorin.

“Thank you for allowing me to come live in your kingdom. I know that the relationship between elves and dwarves is not the best, but I hope to help better it.” Thorin stiffly nods and leans over to say something to a dwarf sitting next to him. The dwarf in question appears shell shocked, but quickly composes himself and jumps up making his way over to you.

“Prince Kili at your service.” He says with a wide smile. “I’ll take it from here Fi.” Fili nods and sends you a kind smile before walking to Thorin. “I’ll be your tour guide around Erebor and your main tutor to help you learn Khuzdul.” All you can do is nod. Your heart feels like it’s stopped and restarted ten times faster. Maybe all the change is too much and you’re dying. No, that can’t be it. The feeling is oddly pleasant. You suddenly feel as if everything will be ok. You don’t think you’ve ever known a calm like this. Kili pulls you out of your thoughts with a clap of his hands. “Right. Let’s get going. There’s lots to see.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And this is the market. You will mostly find things made in the mountain or from Dale.” You nod at Kili's words and continue to look around wide eyed.

“It’s magnificent!” You practically run to a nearby stall with intricate beads proudly displayed on the table.

“Do you know what these ones are for?” He asks with a big grin. You shake your head no as you carefully pick one up. “They’re courting beads. You gift them at the beginning of a courtship and put them at the end of the braid you put in each others hair. Usually you hand make them yourself, but not always” You can’t help the soft smile that makes its way onto your face.

“What a beautiful custom.” There’s a strange pang of longing in your heart that twists when you look at Kili. You must have made a face because Kilis expression shifts from one of pride to one of concern.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly as he places a hand on your shoulder.

“I uhhh I think the day is starting to catch up with me. Would it be alright if I went and rested?” Kili quickly nods and begins to lead you out of the market.

“Of course. I’ll take you back to your chambers and you can rest until dinner.” You smile at him gratefully and follow him through the winding halls of the mountain. Once you arrived at your room Kili gave you a blinding smile and said he’d see you at dinner. All you could do was nod.

“It must be all the change. Erebor is rather different than Greenwood.” You mutter to yourself as you shuffle across your room to lay down. You heave a sigh and stare at the ceiling in your room. “Day one of being a full fledged dwarf is almost over…”

Unbeknownst to you Kili was practically dancing down the hallway on his way to find Fili. When he finally does he breaks out into a sprint and practically tackles his brother. “They’re my One!” He whisper screeches shaking Fili by the shoulders.

“What?” Fili asks trying to get out of his brothers grip.

“They’re my One! Can you believe it?” Fili looks at Kili confused for a second before it clicks and a wide grins breaks out on his face.

“What did they say?”

“Well nothing yet. I think they think they’re ill.” Kili shrugs.

“They think they’re ill?” Fili asks slowly.

“It makes sense they wouldn’t know what a One is, they were raised by elves after all.”

“What are you going to do?” Fili has never seen Kili happier as they make their way to their rooms to prepare for dinner.

“Obviously we’re going to get married.” Kili says with a love sick sigh.

“Before that. You said they think they’re ill.” Kili waves Fili off surprisingly unbothered by the fact that you could be interpreting your tie to him as an illness.

“No need to worry brother, just start writing your speech for the wedding.” Kili practically skips ahead of Fili who can only shake his head with a fond smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been six months since you arrived in Erebor and the adjustment has been smoother than you expected. You’ve picked up Khuzdul fairly well and are no longer so lost in the mountain. You are currently seated at the desk in your room writing a response to your most recent letter from Legolas. While you miss Greenwood and your elven family dearly, you are happy to let them know you’re adjusting to well to life in the Lonely Mountain. You’re pulled from your thoughts when you head a knock on the door. “Come in!” You call setting your quill down.

“Hello dear.” You quickly make your way across the room and hug Dis.

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit?” Dis holds a book out to you.

“A gift. It’s a book of dwarven fairy tales. I read it to Fili and Kili when they were little. Kili was actually the one who recommended it when I said I wanted to give you a gift.” You take the book into your hands and run your fingers along the intricate designs stamped into the cover.

“Thank you!” You gasp. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much!” You say louder.

“Of course my dear. Being with us for half a year is an event deserving of a gift.” The two of you exchange smiles and another hug before Dis has to leave for a meeting. You’re quick to curl up in a chair and flip to the first story.

A few hours of you slowly reading the Khuzdul on the pages pass before there’s another knock on your door but you're so engrossed in the book you don’t notice. “There you are!” Your hand flies to your chest as you let out a scream.

“Kili why would you do that?” You hiss as he has the nerve to laugh.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. You missed lunch so I brought you some food. What’s got you so entranced?” He asks leaning over your shoulder to look at the book in your hands. “I see mom gave you her gift. What do you think?”

“They’re so different from the stories Legolas read me as a child I can’t wrap my head around it.” Kili smiles proudly and puffs out his chest. “There’s some parts I don’t understand tho.”

“I’m sure I can help explain it. What’s got you confused?” He takes a seat on the arm of the chair you’re sat in.

“Well first off the stories keep mentioning finding your One.” You point to a sentence on the page and when you look up at Kili he has an odd look on his face. Before you can ask what’s wrong he begins to speak.

“Your One is your other half. The one that Mahal put here to complete you. To find your One is to find unending peace and happiness. Finding your One is finding home.” Something in your heart twists at Kilis words.

“That sounds wonderful.” You whisper, staring at Kili. It feels like the world has stopped as the two of you stare at each other. Without thinking you both start to lean in. Your faces are inches apart when the book slips out of your lap and slams closed on the floor jolting you out of the moment. You awkwardly clear your throat while Kili looks like he’s trying to burn the book with his glare. “I umm I mean uhh yo-you said you brought lunch right? I don’t think I have any more questions so why don’t we eat?” Kili nods and quickly moves to set up the food on a nearby table.

The two of you eat in silence for a while before Kili clears his throat. “So, it’s been half a year. What do you think of Erebor?” He asks

“It’s nothing like what I imagined. The way dwarves live is so different from elves, but still so beautiful. It was odd at first to be around so many people like me, I mean I was the only dwarf I know for most of my life…” you trail off as you reflect on just how different the Lonely Mountain is from Greenwood and how much your life has changed.

“I’m uhhh I’m glad your not feeling ill anymore. I know how worried you were about it for the first few months.” He says after a moment.

“Ohhh ri-right. Yeah I’m feeling much better.” You try to smile but you think you probably look like you’re dying. Truth be told the odd feelings never went away, but as time went on they turned into a feeling of calm and safety so you stopped saying anything. “Kili, can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” He says immediately with a big smile.

“Have you found your One? Do you know what it feels like?” His smile grows impossibly wider at your words.

“I have. It felt like my insides were exploding in the best way. I couldn’t breathe. It was like I hadn’t really been alive until then. In that first moment I knew that they have my heart in their hand and all I wanted to do was let them know.” His eyes have a look in them that you’ve never seen before. “I met them months ago and it still feels the exact same every time I see them.” Something in you shifts in a way that makes you feel like you’ve been stabbed in the chest. You look away from Kili and try to compose yourself.

“That’s wonderful.” You finally get out. As you bring your eyes back to Kili you can see the battle being waged behind his eyes. He takes a deep breath and nods to himself

“I’d really love for you to meet them.” Those words plunge the knife deeper into your chest.

“Who am I to say no to a prince of Erebor?” You try to laugh but it tastes bitter in your mouth.

“Tonight after dinner. Meet me in my room.” He stands so quickly it flings his chair back. Your eyes widen in surprise and all you can do is nod. “Great! I’ll see you then!” Without another word Kili is out the door and down the hall.

Kili has his One. This is something you should be happy about. He just told you how wonderful having your One is. So why does thinking about it make you wish you’d never come to Erebor?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner comes and goes far too fast for your liking and now you find yourself outside Kilis room. You debate running away to your room and never coming out, but Kili is your friend and he was so excited for you to meet them. You can’t ditch him. With that thought you knock on his door. “Come in!” You can hear the excitement in his voice.

You slowly push the door open and find Kili in the middle of his room. Alone. “Have I come too early?” You ask as you continue to look around the room for another person. Kili says nothing and sets to the side to reveal something behind him covered in a sheet. He wordlessly motions for you to move the sheet. “Kili if this is another of you and Filis pranks I will snitch to your mother.” You warn as you shakily reach out for the sheet. As you pull it away you close your eyes and flinch back moving your hands to cover your face. After a moment of nothing you open your eyes a see a full length mirror.

“Meet my One.” Kili says softly. You step closer to the mirror confused.

“Is this a dwarf thing I don’t know about?” Kili laughs. “Why are you laughing? What’s going on Kili?”

“It’s you. Your my One. I’ve known it since the moment I first saw you.” Your speech less for a moment before a huge isgh of relief leaves you.

“Oh thank Mahal I’m not sick!” You say as the feeling of dread you’d been carrying lifted. Kili shakes his head fondly.

“No you’re not sick. Just in love.” He has that look in his eyes again and you’re pretty sure yours mirror it.

“Just in love.” You repeat. Kili takes hold of you hand and places something in it. When you open your hand you see a small intricately designed bead in it.

“I made it in the weeks after we first met.”

“Kili are you asking to court me?” You tease.

“I’m asking you to marry me one day.” He corrects with a proud smile on his face. You take a seat on the chair by his desk.

“Well then get braiding.” You didn’t know someone could smile so big until you see the one on Kilis face. “I can’t wait to tell Legolas.” You sigh happily as Kili begins braiding.

When he’s done you examine the braid before pulling him into an excited kiss. “Just in love.” You murmur happily when you pull away. Kili kisses your forehead before leading you toward the door to his room.

“We have to tell Fi! And amad! And uncle!” He cheers as he pulls you out of the room and towards his brothers. In that moment you decide that you love living in Erebor.

[itslulabee]

Participation (Ch.5)

~

Concubine

Thorin x OC (smut!!)

(part one, part two, part three, part four, part six)

Description; This fanfic is posted to my AO3 as well, it's basically just pure filth with my OC Kaia and five members of Thorin's Company, our final dwarf, Mr Oakenshield <3

MINORS DNI !!! they shag, duh...

AN; There's like no build up at the start we're jumping right in where we left off! NSFW shit right from the get-go under the cut ;)

Translations for any Khuzdul will be at the end! <3

~ <3 ~

Kaia and Dwalin stayed together on that rock for a while… long enough for Dwalin to make Kaia finish three more times. He was relentless, insatiable, turning Kaia into a sweaty, writhing wreck with his words, fingers, mouth and cock.

After Mahal knows how long, Kaia was sat on his lap, his arms wrapped around her and dragging his hand through her hair. Kaia could do nothing but lie against his firm body, humming in appreciation for his gentle caresses.

“This feels right.” She murmurs, nuzzling into his neck.

“Aye, it does, doesn’t it?” Dwalin says, his voice rumbling like thunder all around her. “Our sweet girl.” Kaia smiles against his chest, pressing a kiss to his peck before extracting her head. Giving him a dazed smile, he helps her stand up.

After being thoroughly fucked by four different dwarves, her body was certainly feeling it. Her legs were shaky and unstable, not to mention her hips ached and she was sure she was covered in bruises and hickeys across every inch of her skin.

But she had never felt so complete.

Dwalin rested a hand on her waist, his other coming to hold onto her hand. He kisses the crown of her head, and Kaia was taken back by how gentle he was in this moment. She had seen the grizzled warrior slaughter orcs by the dozen, wielding his axes as if they were an extension of himself, barely breaking a sweat in the process.

Mere minutes ago he had been holding her against him, bouncing her up and down his cock with the strength and fervour of a wild animal, his blue eyes on fire as he held her head in place to keep their eye contact.

But here he was, holding her upright as if she were a precious jewel, delicate and priceless. Kaia smiled up at him, and was rewarded with seeing his smile in return.

-

As the two approached camp, they could hear a loud conversation. Unmistakably the voices of Nori, Dori, Bofur and Bilbo, the latter sounding horrified.

Entering the small clearing, the conversation became clearer, and Kaia could clearly hear from Nori and Bofur that they were explaining Dwarvish customs in great detail to the hobbit, who was bright red and holding his hands over his ears. Dori was also red faced, telling Nori and Bofur to be quiet.

“You see, Bilbo, when a dwarrow cannot satisfy his One, it is custom for her to bring in another to satisfy her, sometimes her husband will even watch-” Bofur rambled.

“Please stop.” Bilbo says, deadpanned as he stared at the dirt below.

“Aw, give Bilbo some peace, Bofur.” Kaia calls, patting Bilbo’s shoulder as she passes.

The group turns to look at the new arrivals. Bofur’s face lights up at seeing her, whilst Nori’s eyebrows sky rocket into his hairline. Taking in Kaia’s dishevelled appearance, and the relaxed way Dwalin holds her, the group begins hollering.

“I cannot believe it!” Nori says, shaking his head. “She’s got to have broken a record for the amount of lovers taken in one night!”

“Watch your tongue, Nori.” Dwalin warns, walking Kaia over to sit next to Balin. Kaia gives the older dwarf a careful smile, anxious about his reaction to this new information.

But Balin beams, giving her a small hug, “Welcome to the family, lass!”

“Aye, welcome to the family, Dwalin!” Bofur says, wrapping one of his arms around the formidable body of the warrior in a half-hug, who rolled his eyes and grumbled something under his breath.

“How did the conversation with Thorin go?” Kaia asks, trying to keep her nerves at bay.

“Oh, I imagine it’s going fine.” Balin says, patting Kaia’s shoulder beside her.

“They’re still talking?” Kaia looks over at Bofur, “Why are you back?”

“Well the conversation got a bit heated and Fili basically shoved me out of it... I imagine our king did not appreciate my jokes all too much.” Bofur chuckles, walking over to Kaia to sit on the ground in front of her, his back to her. She opened her knees and he reclined back, sighing contentedly as she played with one of his pigtails.

“They’re arguing? About… well, all of us?”

“Can’t imagine it’ll be better when he finds out about Dwalin, too.” Nori shrugs, and Dori smacks him around the back of the head.

“I wouldn’t worry, dear. I’m sure it’ll all be fine.”

“Dwalin!” Thorin’s voice booms across the camp, and all heads spin to see the King Under the Mountain standing at the edge of the clearing. His eyes are fiery, narrowing them at everyone present. Both of his nephews are behind him, Fili rolling his eyes and Kili looking nervous.

When his eyes fall on Kaia, his expression is tense yet unreadable, he looks away from her quickly, giving Dwalin a pointed look, before turning on his heel.

With a quiet sigh, Dwalin stands, walking over to where the king is stalking away. Fili follows after his uncle, and Kili stays put to catch Kaia’s eye. When he does, he gives her a sweet smile, looking like he wants to say something, before Dwalin grabs him around the scruff of the neck and drags him to follow the others.

“Well, that’s just fantastic.” Kaia sighs, wrapping her arms around Bofur’s neck. His large, calloused hands wrap around her forearms, pressing delicate kisses along her skin.

“I’m sure it’s fine, lass.” Balin says, but his eyebrows are knitted together.

“Why’s he mad at Dwalin?” Ori asks, scribbling away into his notebook, his eyes flickering to Kaia and Bofur every so often.

“I imagine he heard him and Kaia going at it like rabbits.” Nori says, nudging his brother.

“What?!” Kaia asks, eyes wide and heart thumping, “Did you guys hear us?!”

“No, lass-” Balin starts.

“Luckily for us.” Bilbo cuts in, his head in his hands.

“-but Thorin, Fili and Kili were talking in the cave… it’s not too far from where you and Dwalin were… well, you know.” Balin’s voice is comforting, but Kaia can feel her stomach in knots.

“They heard it?!” Kaia says, feeling her face flush red.

“I heard it.” Bofur says softly, nipping her thumb with his teeth, a clear smile on his lips.

“Oh for the love of-”

“Kaia!” Another booming yell from Thorin, and Kaia jumped in her seat. “A word.”

Looking at Thorin, she could not figure out what he was thinking. He looked tense, his body maintaining his usual kingly posture but his hands were balled up by his side. Sighing, Kaia rose from her seat, crouching to whisper in Bofur’s ear.

“If I don’t return, he’s thrown me off the cliff.” Kaia says, kissing Bofur’s temple.

“See you down there then, lass.” Bofur jokes, giving her knuckles a kiss as she leaves.

Walking over to where Thorin stands, Fili, Kili and Dwalin pass her on their way back to the group. Fili kisses her cheek, giving her a hand a squeeze. Kili rests a hand on her cheek, nuzzling her nose.

“It’ll be fine, Amrâlimê.” He murmurs, kissing her gently before he follows after his brother. She watches them go, and feels a pair of lips against her temple, as Dwalin passes.

“Don’t let him scare you, lass.” Dwalin murmurs, before grabbing her ass, “You’re ours.”

Kaia blushes as he walks away, before turning back to look at the King Under the Mountain. He inclines his head behind him, and storms away. Sighing again, she follows him.

-

The pair end up at the mouth of a cave, Kaia following after Thorin as he stomped along the edge of the cliff. They were silent for a moment as Thorin looked out at the trees around them, and Kaia bit her fingernail as nerves crept up her spine.

Neither of them had had a conversation longer than a few seconds. He would throw out commands and thinly veiled insults about her being a human, and she would offer back her own, even less conspicuous complaints about him. After a while of this, Balin and Gandalf had told them to cease their childish behaviour, and the two had left it alone. Whatever they said to one another was a short question and a one worded answer.

But now, Kaia was courting his younger nephew, fucking his older one and heir, as well as his head of guard and closest friend, and the very eager, musical miner who just so happens to be a part of his Company.

Kaia worried if he thought this was some kind of power play. Seducing three of the most important people in his lives to get to his head. Perhaps he just thought she was a whorish human who had no right to be in any kind of relationship with the heirs of Durin. Mahal knows, but Kaia had a bad feeling.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Thorin sighed. He turned from the trees to look at her, his face blank but his eyes held a fire in them. Kaia gulped, readying herself for the verbal ass-kicking she is sure to get. Hopefully it’s just verbal…

“I hear you and Kili are courting?” Thorin asks, his voice gruff.

“Uh… yeah, he braided my hair this evening.”

“I’ve been told there is more information than that.” Thorin scoffs, walking over to the cave wall to lean against it, arms folded, “Why don’t you tell me, from your point of view, what has transpired this evening.”

Kaia’s mouth hangs open, finding herself lost for words for a moment. Thorin raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to start speaking.

“How much… do you want to know?” Kaia asks, avoiding his eyes.

“Do not leave out any details.”

“Surely the others have told you enough-”

“I said,” Thorin cuts in, his voice loud and commanding, “Do not leave out any details.”

Kaia swallows thickly, feeling her heart hammering. A small part of her was a little turned on by this side of Thorin, the kingly side of him. But, she really did not need to be distracted by those thoughts when he was clearly enraged by her.

“Alright.” Kaia murmurs, clearing her throat.

“Speak up.”

“Okay!” She exclaims, feeling her cheeks go red. “The others explained dwarvish courting rituals earlier, and made me and Bilbo aware of the concept of ‘lovers’. After, I, uh, went to bathe in the river. Kili came to talk to me, and… well…”

“Well…?” Thorin urged, growing impatient.

“He told me he cared about me. Then we… well, you know.”

“Assume I do not.”

“We… made love.” Kaia mumbles, and feels herself flush harder at Thorin’s condescending laugh.

“You ‘made love’?” He laughs, and Kaia feels herself grow angry.

“We fucked.” She says, her voice louder and stabler. “He told me he wanted me, then we kissed and I pushed him against a tree and took him into my mouth. Then he fucked me against the ground.”

Thorin has gone still, his eyebrows slightly raised to indicate his surprise, but the rest of him dares not move. His breath leaves him in a short huff, and he clears his throat.

“Go on.” He says, his voice slightly raspier.

“I didn’t cum.” Kaia shrugs, “Kili was very eager and I focused on making him feel good. Fili discovered us, and was outraged to find that Kili didn’t make me cum.

“Aye, that is disrespectful, and unbecoming from a son of Durin.” Thorin muses, shifting slightly. “What then?”

“Then Fili fucked me.” She continues, feeling emboldened for some reason. Perhaps it was because she could see a slight blush across the kings cheeks, and his breath was coming out more shallowed. “He used his mouth on me, made me cum with his tongue and his fingers. Then he also fucked me.”

“How many times did you cum?” Thorin asks, his eyes dark under his thick eyebrows.

“Three times.”

“Good.” The king states, resting his head back against the wall, his eyes half-lidded as he watched her. “Continue.”

“After, Kili asked me, formally, if I would wear his courting bead. I agreed, then I went to bathe, finally. Your nephews are very distracting.” A teasing lilt to her voice made Thorin sneer slightly at her, but she could tell he was trying to keep his kingly composure.

“I do now want to hear your snide comments, girl. What happened once you went to bathe?”

“Bofur found me. I had been gone a long time and he thought that the river would be free. It was not. I was in there… wet, naked…”

Kaia lifted her hand up, dragging her finger along her dress collar, a small gesture which could be seen as nothing, but she did it with intent.

Thorin’s breath quickened slightly, but he kept himself still, his eyes trying and failing to remain on her face.

“Bofur was sweet. He was unsure about joining me at first, he did not want to make me uncomfortable. But I wanted him, and he wanted me. We fucked on the bank.”

“How?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How did you fuck? What position?” Thorin’s voice is strained, his jaw ticking as one of his hands twitched beside him, wanting nothing more than to relieve some of the pressure his trousers are applying to his stiffening cock. He had to remain stoic, but Mahal he wanted to know… he wanted to hear it from her lips…

“I rode him.” Kaia states, her hand drifting down her torso, down the valley between her breasts to settle atop her stomach, the tips of her fingers playing with the buttons.

Thorin keeps his eyes on her face, his own stony. His hands remain by his side, his head tilted back as he watches her. But he refuses to let her win this game they have started.

“Did he make you finish?” He asks, voice even.

“Yes.” Kaia smile slightly, “Twice. He let me use his cock as I rode him, and I made him cum by pulling his hair… it seems your dwarvish obsession with your hair translates to the bedroom, huh?”

Thorin scoffs, shifting his shoulders to move his hair back. It cascades over his shoulders in dark, silver tinted waves. Kaia wonders what it feels like against her fingers, if he will cum feeling her tug on it the way Bofur did…

“You seem to be unable to be fully satisfied, Kaia. You had both of my nephews and Bofur, then decided you needed Dwalin as well?”

“Four talented and handsome dwarves offered themselves to me and you think I would refuse?” Kaia scoffs, rolling her eyes, whilst Thorin’s own narrow. “I have needs, Thorin… ones which have been thoroughly seen to.”

“I am glad, because they will not be being seen to again. Not by any member of my Company.”

Kaia’s face falls, she feels her heart stop in her chest at his words. He stares at her with indifference, and Kaia feels rage bubble up inside her.

“Is that so?”

“it is.”

“And how will you go about keeping that rule in place?” Kaia asks, taking a step towards him, “Will you keep an eye on all four of them to make sure none of them sneak away? To make sure none of them lay a hand on me?”

“I will take you back to your farm if I have to.” Thorin sneers, his voice clipped, “I will not have you jeopardising this quest with your feverish desires.”

“They are not just my desires, are they Thorin?” Kaia bites, crossing her arms over her chest, “They all wanted me as much as I wanted them-”

“You are a distraction-”

“I know. You’re distracted now, aren’t you?” Kaia cannot stop the words from tumbling out, but she feels greatly rewarded by the shock on the King’s face. His mouth hangs open slightly, his eyes wide. “Is that it?”

Thorin’s jaw tightens, and he narrows his eyes at her as she walks closer to him, standing right in front of the King Under the Mountain.

“Maybe you are just upset that you didn’t get to have me first… that your cock was not the one I was fucking myself on this evening-”

“Watch your tongue!”

“Why should I need to, you can watch it for me?” She darts her tongue out and drags it over his neck, expecting Thorin to shove her away. But he gasps, his head leaning back further to give her better access. Kaia hums, licking along his jaw and pressing a kiss to his beard.

“If you wanted me too, you could have just said.” She smiles against his skin, and she can feel him swallow hard.

“I’m their king, their leader. I cannot find myself distracted by urges like this, by desires you have put into my head.”

“Have you been distracted, my king?” Kaia murmurs, feeling hm shiver against her at the formal term, “How long have you wanted me?”

“Since the morning after the storm.” Thorin responds, far too driven by his lust to care about the repercussions of his honesty. “You have bewitched me.”

“Have I?” Kaia chuckles, leaning her head back. “I am no witch, Thorin Oakenshield, whatever you feel for me is caused by no spell.”

“It might as well be.”

Kaia pouts, taking a step from him. His hands move to pull her back, but he stops himself, cursing his immediate desire to keep her close.

“If you do not want me, my king, then all you have to do is say.” Kaia says, shrugging. Thorin glares at her, his jaw tense as he looks into her eyes.

“I am a King. I am not going to be some humans lover, least of all the woman bound to my nephew.”

“Ah, see, I knew it was your pride getting in the way.” Kaia laughs humourlessly, shrugging, “If that is the case, then I shall go. If you wish it, I will return home-”

Kaia turns to leave, but as she turns her back, she feels Thorin grab her wrist. He tugs her back, pressing her against his chest.

“No. No, you will not go.” He murmurs, his mouth close to her ear. “I do not want you to.”

“I thought you said you would not become a humans lover?”

“And you were right, it is my pride speaking…” He says, his tone quieter and gentler than it had been mere seconds ago, “I… I do want you… I care for you. But… it is not easy. I feel as though the weight of the world is on my shoulders, Kaia. I do not want to do anything that would put our mission at risk. I do not want to find myself falling for you and being unable to focus on the task at hand…”

The honesty takes Kaia back, and she lets out a shuddered breath, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

“I know, Thorin. You have so many responsibilities, but that can make you feel alone.” Kaia murmurs, turning herself around in his arms. Thorin’s head is bent slightly, his hair like a curtain around his head. “You do not have to be ashamed about having desires, about caring about me. And you do not have to be ashamed to admit that you cannot do this all alone. Let me be here, for you. Please.”

He rests his forehead against her own, his eyes screwing shut.

“And if I become yours, Kaia, what then? I have lost so much in this life, what if I lose you too. What if we all do? Kili loves you, as does Fili, I can tell. I have only ever seen Bofur be serious when he talks about you, and I know Dwalin would never take a lover unless she was special. You are special, Kaia. I could not bear to give my heart and body to you just to lose you as well.”

“You won’t.”

“You do not know that.”

“Neither of us do.” Kaia shrugs, tucking his hair behind his ear, “If we lived our lives in fear of what could be, we would never feel any joy. You deserve joy, Thorin. Please, let me be the one who gives it to you.”

Thorin looks up at her, his eyes soft beneath his knitted eyebrows.

“Even if we did survive this quest, and we take back Erebor… I would be king. I would be your lover, but I would also be your king. Your One’s uncle-”

“Yes and I have already bedded his brother in front of him” Kaia laughs, kissing Thorin’s nose gently. “Stop looking for reasons why this cannot be, my king. Whatever problems and issues we come across, we face them. I know that I love Kili, I know that I adore Fili and Dwalin and Bofur, and I want you to be a part of us.”

Thorin stares down at her, his eyes soft as a small smile appears across his face, “You’re going to have to ask me formally.”

“Oh, do I?” Kaia smirks.

“I’m a king, little human. I’m not a miner who you can just fuck on the side of a river, you must ask me properly.”

Kaia sighs, rolling her eyes good naturedly. Taking a step away from him, confusion flashes across his face. Before he can assume she has rejected him, Kaia gets down on her knee.

She assumes the best imitation of bowing in front of a king as she can, bending her head down as she extends one hand to him, with the other on his chest.

“Oh, noble King Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, king Under the Mountain and uncle to my One. Would you do me the honour of becoming my lover? Would you fuck me hard, make me scream, drive me to the point of insanity on your cock, fuck me in every corridor of Erebor when we get there, and-”

She is cut off by Thorin taking her hand and pulling her up, right into his arms as he laughs against her hair.

“That’s good enough, ghivashel. Not very formal, mind you.” He chuckles.

“Hey, I used all of your official titles!” Kaia laughs, and Thorin wraps his hands around her waist, pressing her closer to him.

“When we reclaim Erebor, I will do you the honour of fucking you on my throne.” Thorin’s voice rumbles against her neck, and she moans as his hands travel over her body.  

“How about we start off with you fucking me in this cave, your majesty?”

Thorin pulls back, raising his eyebrow at her, “You fucked four different dwarrows tonight, and you want to go again?”

“I haven’t had a king…” She murmurs, dancing her lips against his own. He groans, pressing his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

Kaia wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as he glides his hands over her waist and hips, groping at her ass with an appreciative hum, before he grabs her thighs and lifts her up.

She squeaks as he lifts her, wrapping her legs around Thorin’s waist as he walks her back to press her against the cave wall. His lips never leave hers, biting her lower lip and causing her to yelp, giving his tongue access to her mouth.

Every moan she finds escaping her is swallowed by Thorin, who digs his fingers into her thighs as he grinds himself against her.

“Fucking a lady against a cave wall, is very unbecoming of a king.” He murmurs, dragging his teeth over her pulse point.

“Well we can save the ‘love-making’ on satin sheets for when you have your kingdom back, your grace. Right now, I need you to just be Thorin.”

“Thorin would definitely fuck a lady against a cave wall.” He chuckles, securing her weight against the stone as one of his hands lifts up to pull down her sleeve, kissing her shoulder.

“Then get to it, Oakenshield.” Kaia moans, tugging on his hair.

“As you wish, Halwûna.” Thorin groans, reaching his hands up to tug on her dress. It falls away easily, the back of it having already been destroyed by Dwalin’s hands. Thorin shifts her higher up, giving him easy access to her tits.

One of his hands remains on her thigh, the other glides over her torso, the callouses on his palms delivering delicious friction against her skin, causing her to bite her lip and drop her head back.

Kaia can feel his beard drag along her chest, his lips pressing kisses along her collarbone before delving deeper, pressing kisses to her nipples. They pebbled against the cold air, and he groaned against them. His tongue darted out, licking a long strip along her right breast.

The hand in his hair clenched, and he growled against her tit, latching onto it with his teeth.

“Fuck! Thorin!” She cries, the pain and the pleasure sending a shiver through her body.

“Quiet, girl. You don’t want the rest of them hearing us, do you?” He murmurs, before looking up into her eyes, “Do you?”

“I think this Company is far past secrets.” Kaia chuckles, breathing harshly as he continues to suck on her tit, dragging his teeth over them to illicit more noise from her.

She threads her fingers through his hair, tugging harshly every time his teeth bit down onto her, and he rewards her with a groan every time.

“It seems Fili got his love for teasing from you.” Kaia breathes out, and Thorin chuckles against her skin.

“Does it turn you on to bring up my nephews while I’m sucking your tits, ghivashel?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his rumbling voice.

“Perhaps.” Kaia says, grinding her lower body against his strong stomach, “Does that bother you?”

“No. In fact, I have half a mind to call them here to watch as I ravage you.” Thorin says, kissing her breast once more before lifting his head up to give her an evil smirk. Kaia can only groan as he pulls her down the wall, readjusting her thighs until they are wrapped around his hips.

Thorin presses a kiss to her jaw, growling slightly, “No. I think I’ll wait for another time to share you. Right now, you are mine.”

With quick, rough hands, he lifts her dress up to bunch around her waist, pressing his hips against hers to keep her upright.

“I want to see you.” Kaia murmurs, dragging her hands over his clothed torso. Thorin raises an eyebrow, seemingly unwilling to take off his tunic.

“It’s cold.” He says.

“Yeah, I realised. If you haven’t noticed, I’m wearing my dress as a belt right now.” Kaia laughs, playfully punching Thorin’s shoulder. His face breaks out into a small smile, looking over her body with loving eyes.

“That is fair, sweet girl.” Thorin says, keeping his hips pressed to hers to keep her up, whilst his hands grab at the hem of his tunic, tugging it over his head.

Kaia feels a blush creep up her neck at the sight of him. He’s covered in thick muscle underneath tanned skin, decorated with dark and silver hair, tattoos and scars. His muscles ripple as he tosses his shirt away, and she cannot resist the urge to touch him.

She drags her fingers over his chest, admiring the dark hair and the roughness of his skin. Thorin watches her as she looks him over, his expression guarded as he begins to feel self-conscious. Kaia was beautiful, soft skin and delicate imperfections which made her so real. The King Under the Mountain was riddled with memories of war, he was old and withered. What if she was disgusted by him?

“You’re beautiful.” Kaia says, softly.

Thorin blinks at her, taken aback by her compliment. But he sees only honesty in her eyes, her pupils dilated as her fingers draw circles down his stomach, gently caressing the scars littered along it. Overwhelmed by the affection displayed by the human in front of him, he kisses her gently. She sighs against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even closer to her.

“No-one’s ever called me beautiful, Gêdel.” Thorin murmurs against her lips.

“Well get used to it.” Kaia smiles, leaning back to look into his sad, blue eyes. “I’ll spend the rest of my life telling you how beautiful you are, if you let me.”

“Only if I can repay the favour.”

They share a smile, before resuming their kiss. Their lips start gently, dancing together in an unspoken confession of adoration, getting to know each other more and more with every breath they shared.

Over time, they grew impatient. Kaia felt his hands rubbing against her hips and thighs, causing goose bumps to erupt over every inch of skin he caressed. She moaned against his mouth, demanding for more. Thorin kissed her harder, his tongue seeking her own out as their hands wandered.

“Are you sure about this, sweet one?” Thorin asks.

“Yes, I am.” Kaia whispers, biting at his jaw, “My king.”

Thorin groans, kissing her shoulder and her neck as one of his hands leaves her. Kaia can hear his belt buckle being undone, and her body thrummed with anticipation. Thorin shoved his trousers down to his thighs, gasping as the cold night air hit his cock.

The heat from both of their bodies was both stifling and not enough, the winds of the forest caressing the pairs bare skin. Kaia wrapped her arms snug around the king before her, pressing her chest to his. He hummed against her skin, one hand holding her up whilst the other moved to play with her cunt.

Kaia gasped as she felt his finger drag along her inner thigh, before reaching between her legs. His index finger caressed along her folds, feeling how wet she was for him.

“Oh, mahal…” He murmurs, his cock throbbing at the feeling of how soft and wet she was.

Pressing his finger into her, Kaia moaned and bit her lip, feeling her body shudder with the intrusion of his thick digit. He pushed into her, deep until his thumb pressed against her clit.

“Thorin…” Kaia breathed, her head hitting the wall behind her as she shifted her body, begging for more.

He obliged. A second finger joined his first, and his thumb began dragging across her clit in rough, stable motions which made her gasp. Pumping his fingers, Thorin watched Kaia’s face as her jaw went slack.

“Does that feel good, ghivashel?” He asks, knowing the answer but demanding praise. He needed to hear her tell him he was good, I needed it like a drowning man needed air.

“Yes! Thorin you feel so good! Please, please don’t stop…” Kaia pleads, her hips bucking slightly to fuck herself on his fingers.

“Good girl, ride my hand. That’s it, you look so pretty coming undone.” Thorin praises, fucking her faster on his fingers as he feels himself grow even harder watching her expressions.

Her face twists beautifully, eyes fluttering closed as her chest heaved. Unable to resist, Thorin lowers his head, taking one of her nipples into his mouth. She moans, grabbing onto his hair to keep him in place.

“I’m gonna…” Kaia murmurs, rocking her hips against Thorin’s hand.

“Are you going to cum, ‘arsûna?” Thorin asks, kissing along her breast as he flicks her clit harder, “Are you going to reward your king by cumming all over his hand?”

“Yes! Yes!” Kaia gasps out, feeling her peak nearing.

“Do you deserve to finish to soon?” Thorin chides, “Have you earned it?”

“Please, Thorin!” She begs, feeling her legs shake as she gets closer. But Thorin’s hand stops.

“Please, what?” He asks, his voice low as he talks against her skin, looking up at her with fierce eyes.

“Please, my king!” Kaia practically screams, her body thrumming on the precipice.

“Good girl.” He says, biting down onto her tit as three of his fingers enter her, fucking into her fast and hard, his thumb rubbing her clit with renewed ferocity.

Kaia chokes out a sob, her scream getting caught in her throat as she cums. Stars and flashes of lightning erupt in front of her eyes, and her body shakes against Thorin’s own. His fingers do not cease, coaxing her through her orgasm as Thorin groans against her.

The feeling of her cunt strangling his fingers has Thorin’s cock pulsing, begging for the warmth her cunt provides. He needed her, but he held back as he felt her slump against him.

“Are you alright, ‘Ibinê?” He asks, his voice raspy as he feels the blood pumping through his shaft.

“I am, sweet king.” Kaia murmurs above him, running her hands through his hair, causing him to sigh contentedly, “Are you going to fuck me or are you waiting for something?”

Kaia chuckles above him, and Thorin presses another kiss to her chest, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He says, his voice gentle.

“I’ve fucked four dwarrows and came a dozen times tonight, Thorin. Nê akhshum.” Kaia says, her voice soft. Thorin looks up at her, surprised by her use of Khuzdul. Kaia shrugs, “Balin has been teaching me, Bifur too.”

“Oh, why?” Thorin asks, kissing her jaw.

“He said there would be need for it, eventually.” Kaia smiles, “I don’t know if he meant this, though.”

“He knows more than the rest of us, Halw Kurdu.” Thorin chuckles, kissing her cheek, then her nose. “Are you ready for…” Thorin clears his throat, suddenly nervous.

“Your cock?” Kaia asks, smiling at Thorin swallows thickly, “Yes, I’m ready, my king.”

“If you keep calling me that, this will not last long.”

“Do not sell yourself short, Thorin, it appears dwarrow stamina is very impressive.”

Thorin grins at her, kssing her hard as he lifts her up slightly. Kaia gasps as she can feel his length pressed against her. He’s huge and thick, and throbbing. Thorin releases his own groan at the feel of her heat beneath him, and the two take a second to breathe before, Thorin pushes into her.

The tip of him is enough to make Kaia’s head spin. She bites her lip at the feeling of him stretching her, the all too familiar sensation of penetration a welcome sting after tonight.

Thorin, however, feels as though he is about to burst. Her tight heat envelopes him hot and wet and oh so tight. His mind blanks as he pushes forwards, the sound of his own heart, his lovers breathing and the wet noises of their coupling like music to his ears.

“Mahal… you feel… gods, Kaia…” Thorin can barely get out the words as he sinks deeper, his mouth hanging open as he stares into her eyes, loving the look inside of them as he slowly pushes all the way into her.

“Thorin… my king…” Kaia murmurs, her hands on his shoulders as he presses his hips to her, causing her eyes to roll back into her head. “So… big, fuck….”

“I need to… please, Kaia, can I move…?” Thorin begs, surprising himself with how breathy and eager he sounds. His mind is clouded, the only thing he can feel is the tight space between her legs and the softness of her skin underneath his fingers.

“Move, Thorin. Fuck me hard, please…” Kaia commands, her words disappearing into a high pitched whine as he quickly pulls back and thrusts back into her.

His pace is rough, hard and sloppy. Gone are his worries and his desire to remain kingly, now all he wants is to fuck her fast and hard, claiming her cunt. Every time he pulls his inches out, her cunt tries to pull him back, and he is more than happy to oblige, surging forward hard enough to cause them both to let out a strangled gasp.

Kaia keeps one hand on his shoulder as the other disappears between them, rubbing against her clit and feeling where his cock enters her. The feeling of her nails dragging along his length makes Thorin wince, but the slight pain just brings him closer.

Thorin fucks her wildly, his cock never leaving her for a second as he pumps himself in her, his balls slapping against her as his tip snaps against her cervix. Kaia feels as though she could die on his dick, the air leaving her every time his body shoves against hers. Her hips feel bruised, her tits rubbed raw against the hairs on his chest, and the beautiful sensation of his kingly cock fucking her hard enough to carve it’s shape into her cunt.

Another orgasm is fast approaching, and Kaia can only grip onto him with one arm as the other continues to rub her clit. Thorin shakes and shudders against her, panting as he uses all of his energy to pound into her. His forehead is covered in sweat, and he drops it against her shoulder as he gets lost in the feeling.

Thorin presses her thigh up higher, getting better access to her cunt. After a few more sharp thrusts, Kaia screams as her orgasm crashes over her. Her cunt strangles his cock, causing Thorin to gasp and murmur out Khuzdul, his eyes rolling back. His hips do not stop, desperately fucking her through her orgasm.

“Thorin! Please, let me go, I can’t-!” Kaia pleads, her orgasm subsiding and the brutal pace of his hips making her squirm with overstimulation.

It takes great effort, but Thorin releases her, and she slides out from him. Thorin feels as though he might die if he does not finish, but he would never keep going when she tells him to stop.

Kaia looks down at his cock, glistening and red, and drops to her knees. Thorin opens his mouth to tell her not to, but the second she wraps her lips around him, his protest dies in his throat.

She wastes no time in taking him into her mouth, pushing her head down as far as she can go. He’s so thick and long, and when he hits the back of her throat he’s barely halfway in. Kaia swallows around him, hearing him gasp and groan as one of his hands wraps around her hair. She removes her mouth for a second to drag her tongue along the underside of him, before wrapping her lips around him once more.

Her hands aid her efforts, pumping up and down the rest of his shaft in circular, up and down motions. That and the suction she applies to the top of him, has Thorin almost collapsing on top of her. Kaia looks up, watching as he leans over her, his forearm resting on the stone wall while the other grasps onto her skull.

Thorin’s eyes stare down at her, half-lidded and full of desire as she bobs her head along his shaft. The King Under the Mountain tries to keep himself from fucking her face, his hips stuttering and his hand flinching with the effort to not move her head the way he wants her to.

Kaia can see his internal battle, and she releases him from her mouth, pumping him with her hands as she looks into his eyes, “Fuck my face, my King.”

Thorin groans, spluttering slightly at her words, before the hand in her hair tightens and pushes her back to his shaft. Kaia eagerly opens her mouth, accepting his appendage when it glides through her lips.

All restraint is gone from Thorin now, he’s too close and too desperate to feel her mouth around him. He begins thrusting into her face, forcing his length further and further down her throat until she is gagging around him. Kaia does not protest, nor does she try to move. She keeps her throat as open as she can, taking deep breaths through her nose as the King vigorously fucks her.

It's so erotic, her eyes flitting up to watch the normally composed King under the Mountain as he becomes a writhing beast above her. One of her hands leaves his shaft, going south to her clit, and she begins grinding on it, the vibrations from Thorin fucking her face providing her with effortless friction that makes her body spasm with pleasure.

Thorin is a mess of sweat and groans above her, his eyes rolling back even though he tries his hardest to watch the scene below him. She is truly the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and watching as she takes almost all of him down her throat and pumps him with her hand makes his chest feel as though it will collapse.

His balls are tightening below him, and he can feel himself getting close. The arm pressed against the wall is the only thing anchoring him from falling into a void of ecstasy, and he presses his forehead against it to try to keep his breaths even,

Kaia can feel him getting close. The hand in her hair grips even harsher, providing an almost painful sensation. His thrusts are getting sloppier and harder, and Kaia feels herself gagging almost constantly.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Thorin’s mouth is releasing a string of gibberish, moans and words of praise, she would find the gagging embarrassing, but the sensation of it is heaven for Thorin Oakenshield.

She rides her hand with more fervour, feeling herself getting closer as the dwarf above her begins stuttering out begs and pleadings.

“Oh, my sweet girl, make me cum, please… you feel so good, abnâmul, mahal maharuma, you’re going to make me cum… fuck!” He gasps out, on the edge of cumming down her throat.

Kaia wants to feel his spend in her mouth, needs it to finish herself, so she moves her hand from his cock, bringing it down to grab onto his balls.

Thorin bellows, thrusting his cock down her throat as far as it can go as he finishes. His cum comes out in hot spurts down her throat and across her tongue. The sensation of it and the sound of Thorin’s groans makes Kaia orgasm, her fingers pruning with the wetness of herself.

Thorin pulls himself out of her mouth, uttering a small apology for finishing in her mouth. But Kaia simply smiles at him, swallowing down what he gave her and wiping her mouth. He takes another breath, before pulling her up and wrapping his arms around her, his face in her neck.

They stay like that for a few moments, leaning against the wall for stability as they caress each other, soothing one another gently. Thorin murmurs against her skin, words she can barely hear and understand, but his tone makes her feel warm and safe. She kisses his jaw, nuzzling against the roughness of his beard.

“We should probably go back. They’ll be wondering where we got off to.” Kaia murmurs, and Thorin lifts his head to give her a dazed look.

“You’re right.” He says, reaching down to pull his trousers back up. The two begin pulling their clothes back into place. A rustling sound catches their attention, and Thorin sighs.

“Bofur get out of those fucking bushes!” Thorin bellows, and Kaia looks around as a hat pops out from one of the nearby shrubs.

Bofur looks over at them, wide eyed and red faced, clearing his throat.

“Apologies, Thorin! Was just wondering what was going on!” He calls.

“You were wondering ten minutes ago, you dolt!” Thorin sighs, buckling up his trousers.

“Enjoy the show, sweet dwarf?” Kaia asks, chuckling to herself.

“Very much, lass. I’m also very glad Thorin and you are on the same page!” Bofur laughs, trying to conspicuously fix his clothing.

“Were you touching yourself, Bofur?” Kaia tuts, and Bofur flushes red again.

“If I catch you watching us again, I’ll tie you up so you can only watch and not reach any kind of satisfaction. Understood?” Thorin says, his voice back to its commanding lilt.

“Heard loud and clear!” Bofur salutes, winking at Kaia as he runs off back to the camp. Kaia laughs, and Thorin gives her an exacerbated look. “You’re going to have to get used to that, darling. You’re sharing with four other dwarrows.”

“I’m well aware.” Thorin says, kissing Kaia on the forehead. “But we’re really going to have to have a conversation about boundaries.”

“Sure, my king.” Kaia teases, and Thorin growls before he dives in for another kiss.

-

Woo, final smut chapter done! There will be an epilogue chapter next, just to conclude it all!

BUT, because so many people enjoyed this fanfic on AO3, I'll be making a few one-shots continuing on with this story! So look out for those!

Translations <3

Gêdel – Joy of all joys

‘arsûna – hot one

‘Ibinê – my gem

Nê akhshum – Don’t Worry

Halw Kurdu – Sweet Heart

[brainrotbabe24]

Can I request Thorins company meeting readers family? And bonus if most of the family doesnt speak Common tongue/English so reader has to be the translator (story of my life)😭😭

Hi! I love this idea...i would be so nervous to bring any of them home lol!

I would also like to thank my friend who helped me. She gave me her perspective with translating and the language barrier she has! 💖

Balin: Balin being a traditional dwarf, would want to meet your family as soon as you both decided to start seeing each other. He'd make an effort to show his intentions by inviting them to a nice dinner. I imagine he knows a little bit about your family, so every evening after work, he’d stay up to learn the language. 

Dwalin: Dwalin wouldn't meet your family until later in the relationship, specifically when you asked him to come over and help do a few chores. He’d put on his work shoes and be over in a matter of seconds. Realizing there was a language barrier, he’d ask you to translate what they needed help with. Initially, your family would be unsure, finding his tattoos and demeanor intimidating. They would say, “Why is he so quiet?” “Does he ever smile?” However, after seeing his devotion and how happy he made you, they’d slowly change their minds. He would regularly ask to come back and help, whether it was washing clothes, rebuilding a fence, or even helping put the baby to sleep. Comments about him would turn positive: “Look how strong he is,” “He is wonderful with kids,” “Does he have a brother? *wink wink*”

Óin: Oin would want to match outfits. He is such an old man! He would want to make sure you both looked presentable and would spend extra time on his braids and yours. It would honestly be so cute!!! 

Glóin: Gloin would be incredibly nervous to meet your parents. However, his nerves would get the best of him, and he might drink a little too much, rambling on about his adventures. You’d have to translate—perhaps even fib a little—to make sense of his stories. 

Gloin: “There was this dragon, and we had to kill it…” 

You: “He says he works in accounting…” 

Bifur: The first impression might not be great, with the ax in his head possibly scaring them. However, his skill in whittling, a.k.a. giving them gifts, and a potential family member knowing Khuzdul could turn things around.  The gif below is what your family will look like when they see the ax lol

Bofur: I know I always associate songs with Bofur, but it fits him so well, lol! Singing is how he won you over, so he wants to win the family over too. He would make sure to sing all the favorites and would ask for requests! I think by the end of the night the entire family would be singing! 

Bombur: Bombur would impress your family with his cooking. Once they learned he enjoyed cooking, they’d bond over shared recipes and favorite ingredient. He’d quickly become a favorite, often asked to help cook during holidays and special occasions.

Ori: Ori would be extremely nervous meeting your family, so much so that Dori and Nori might join to support him. They’d embarrass him, but it would lighten the mood. Your parents would find his family amusing and see Ori as a decent guy. By the end of the night, they’d give him a hug, and he’d be thrilled, talking about it for weeks.

Dori: The ideal boyfriend to introduce to your parents. Dependable, respectful, and family-oriented, he’d make a great impression. He’d also be impressed with your translating skills. Additionally, seeing that you were working overtime translating, he would go out of his way to help you. “Oh honey, do you need more food?" "Here I can show your grandmother to the bathroom." "Would you like extra wine, dear?”

Nori: You and Nori were new in your relationship and not ready for him to meet your family officially. However, they’d catch glimpses of him bringing you home after dates. They would think he was a "bad boy" and become suspicious. They would often ask, “What’s his job again?” because it changed so much. He’d win them over by bringing thoughtful “gifts” (definitely not stolen lol) after every date, and they'd start to appreciate his efforts.

Thorin: Thorin’s reputation would precede him, with your parents knowing about the adventure and his temporary gold/dragon sickness. They’d be skeptical, and the initial meeting would involve many questions. You’d have to translate everything, making Thorin increasingly nervous. A few of Thorin’s answers were: “No, I am not sick...yes, I go outside ... Madam, I can assure you, I shower." Despite the awkward start, they’d warm up to him, seeing his genuine intentions. He’d often host dinners and family events to show his commitment and might give you a promise ring to signify his dedication.

Kíli: Bless his heart for meaning well, but oh boy, is he a big himbo. Kili would think he was making a great first impression, but I feel like he would be making a fool of himself. First he would try to kiss your mother's hand, and it would be misinterpreted as flirting. Second, he would try impressing them with his skills, only to trip and fall. Finally, he would think your younger siblings were helping him learn the language, but they would end up teaching him dirty words. So when he gives a big speech and happens to use those words..well, let's just say you would need to do damage control. I think after a while it would become a family joke, and everyone would fondly remember his attempts to make a good first impression. I would like to imagine it’s an April and Andy situation lol 😂😂

Fíli: There must be something with the Durin boys..cause they are hot but dumb. Okay, so Fili would be super excited to meet your family; he would talk for days about how he was "preparing” and “had a surprise." Every time you ask him what that means, he will just give you a wink and say, “You’ll be so proud, babe." However, his attempts to impress might result in miscommunication. On the day of meeting your parents, he tries saying something in their native language and would slip up and pronounce something completely wrong. I imagine it’s kind of like papá and papas in Spanish—dad and potatoes. He would’ve revealed to you that he had asked Ballin and Nori for help on the language and just got horrible advice. Despite initial giggles and laughter at his mistakes, your family would appreciate his effort. 

Bilbo: Bilbo would meticulously plan a party to meet your family, aiming to overcome any awkwardness with a grand feast and festivities. He’d insist on handling everything himself, wanting to be the perfect host. Once they arrived, he’d go all out, showing them around, serving them the best food and pipe weed, and even arranging for fireworks. “What can I say? Us hobbits love a good party,” he would say, putting his arm around you and squeezing!

Gandalf: Your family would be so confused! It would be like the gif below when Bilbo first talked to Gandalf. Pure shock and suspicion. I also think Gandalf would speak in riddles and confuse everyone!

[dilettantefeminist]

Elrond Week Day 7: Sanctuary and Departure

Prompts: Third Age, Legacy, The Undying Lands

Before he departs for Valinor, Elrond spends a moment in the library of Imladris

If Lord Elrond spends long hours pouring over ledgers, if he recalculates the count of grain and the weight of the orchard harvest, and if he combs the most recent census for familiar names, he thinks he can withstand these last days. In a fortnight he will journey from Imladris, where every detail is touched by his vision or by his hand, and he will not return. He will board Círdan’s ship with the ring bearer and the others and he will leave Arda. He will leave his daughter, now mortal and in the early delight of a young marriage. He will leave too his sons, who will watch over her and over their Valley, keeping it safe for an age of Men.

Celibrían, the missing remainder of his soul, awaits him in Valinor. Some days it seems to him that she is in the next room, just out of reach. Other days he thinks he dreamed her. The closer their reunion draws, the greater his anticipation, until it feels dangerously close to the desperation that marked their parting. So he makes plans for those who will pass through Imladris and revises them endlessly and drives Erestor mad with his questions. Have we enough wood for the winter to come? It will be colder now. Did I see we have children in the last census? Have we any toys for them? Is one cook enough for our expected guests?

One morning Erestor tells him that the librarian of Imladris wishes to speak with him and it is only then that Elrond realizes he’s not thought of the library. The omission shocks him; he wonders that he could have overlooked something so important.

His librarian sits alone at a reading table surrounded by piles of books. lanthir is the last of the large staff that once kept the collection organized, fetched scrolls and folios for visiting scholars. He agrees at once with Elrond’s suggestion to send the healer’s collection to Minas Tirith and has also taken the liberty of pulling these, a selection of volumes that he hopes will travel to Aman. There are exactly one hundred and at first Elrond sees no theme or order to his choices, but as Ianthir describes them he finds himself nodding. There are the histories of course, twenty that cover the events of the past two ages. There is epic poetry but there is also a forge plan with the architect’s notation in Khuzdul, an illustrated field guide to the plants of Rhovanian, and a Mannish children’s fable about chickens.  

lanthir does not intend to leave Imladris, or rather, he says he does not intend to leave the library. Elrond searches his face, asks him gently if he would not like to see the Blessed Realm, to explore its immense collections of knowledge. The other librarians have sailed one by one, drawn by this promise. They were each allowed to take one book from the library; Elrond wonders which ones they selected.

lanthir will not sail. He feels, he tells Elrond, more comfortable among these books than among his kin. There are so many in the cities of Aman. He seeks quiet. And there will still be visitors to their valley. They will be Men, likely as not, but does Elrond know that they have over 1532 items in Westron? Elrond does not know. He smiles despite himself and does not argue. After so many years of being left, he is finally learning how to leave. Already the weight of Ianthir’s fate sits lighter on his shoulders.

When they have finished talking Elrond walks into the open gallery and sinks into one of the high-backed chairs scattered throughout. He can see gardens through a nearby window, and he closes his eyes and allows himself to imagine the hedgerows becoming wilderness, the library walls crumbling under the work of root and vine.  

Twenty yeni past he entered the library and, as he hurried through in search of a map, found the Lady Celebrían ensconced in the chair in which he now sits. Elrond cannot recall a time when he did not love her. That he tell her was impossible then, so he satisfied himself with small moments in which he could watch her unobserved. And then he walked into his library and she was before him, lit by rays of late afternoon sunlight. She raised her eyes to him over the cover of her book and he was ruined, all his carefully considered arguments for silence buried under the weight of her presence and the sliver of hope afforded by her smile.

He rises to search the nearby shelves and inhales sharply when his hand closes over the slim volume, still in its place.

“I wonder if you could recommend something for me to read, my lord?”

What possessed him, Elrond will never know, but he had selected this book of poetry. It was not one of the Elvish canon but a mannish book of poetry, one whose tone might be described as earthy. It had taken him another three months and the knowledge of her imminent departure to gain the courage to speak to Celebrían plainly, but that day in the library had been the unofficial beginning of their courtship.

When Elrond sails he does so with Ianthir’s collection and, wrapped in a cloth of Celebrían’s weaving, the little book of poetry. He will give it to her as they begin again, a reminder that even in their shared grief for those they leave behind, they are rooted in joy.

_____________________________________________________________

Author’s note: I imagine Ianthir’s collection to be a sort of gold record for Middle Earth. What book would you add to it?

@elrondweek

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

My brain is FULL of TH fic ideas but I've already got 3 WIP and most of them are just "what if"s with no plot so I'll just post them here I guess and maybe some writing god hears me/ reads them and someone else actually uses them.

Here's Nr. 1:

Frerin did in fact NOT die at Azanulbizar but was transported into our modern world, sometime in the second half of the 19th century.

After some adjusting (industrialization is in full force but it's still not as 'bad' as it would be rn) he builds a life, him being a dwarf meaning that he ages extremely slowly compared to us lowly humans so he has to move after a while and again and again.

He lives in the UK, US, France, Germany, Italy, Finland.....

He fights in both world wars depending on where he lives during that time (WW1 on the German side, WW2 on the UK's), other than that he goes to university and works all kinds of jobs like policeman, fireman, soldier, teacher, carpenter,smith, weaver, factory worker, violinist etc etc etc

Around 1900 he meets this fella J R R Tolkien and befriends him, and after a time finds out that his friend is writing books about middle Earth, not only that, but one about his very own brother. Tolkien apparently is a seer of some kind because it's still almost a century until "The Hobbit" would happen (he does the math).

Frerin helps Tolkien with authenticity for his books, because the dude is smart and found out about Frerin after he corrected his Khuzdul one time too many.

Anyhow, after reading what will happen to his family, he becomes a mite bit obsessed with returning to Middle Earth and having ammased quite some wealth and with the help of some friends in high places starts founding various research projects into things like teleportation, multiverse, magic, alchemy, you name it. He also becomes a member of the Freemasons due to his occult knowledge.

In around 80 years there's almost no progress towards Frerin's goal of returning home, he does still have a research company but only a small group of mostly students works on the multiverse hypothesis, the rest does all kinds of stuff, technology, energy, whatever.

He has for the time being settled somewhere in Scandinavia, is a College Professor for Sociology and Political Science and volunteers as a social worker for troubled children.

He is fostering 2 or 3 children himself (ages 6 - 16) and has two grown up adopted children that still live & work with him (they found out about him), a guy & a lass ( both early twenties).

Somehow (don't ask I don't know) the whole household (meaning Frerin, his two young adult children, the foster children, his south American householder, her tiny dog and their personal Butler (more of a live-in family friend by now, think Niles from "The Nanny")) all get sucked into a portal or whatever end get spit out into Middle Earth.

Not at Ered Luin of course, that would be easy, no, but somewhere extremely inconvenient. The Lone lands, the Brown lands, Moria, something along the lines of "we are so fucked".

So now it is a few years (1-3, or the characters have too much time to become Mary-Sues), before the quest to Erebor, and they have to reach Thorin before then and somehow survive a world filled with orcs (and elves!) while juggling a 6 year old, a tiny & barky dog, a cliché Mamacita, a British butler, and Frerin's realisation that he has gotten much too used to modern convenience.

(my weak ass would probably include some romance between one/more than one of the original characters and the canon characters, I'm a sucker for Fili or Kili x OFC and rare pairings like KilixBifur or ThorinxNori and I want Frerin to date an elf or Bard I think.)

.... Does this sound like something you would read/write? I'd maybe try to write this with someone else, alone I don't dare to. What do y'all think?

[ironmandeficiency]

the best gift

pairing: fíli / fem!reader

word count: 2975

summary: your husband is sent on a diplomatic mission to reestablish trade. this trip unfortunately falls during your first birthday in erebor as fee’s betrothed

a/n: my march piece for the year of themed creation ( @yearofcreation2023 ) that i didn't finish in time bc life sucks ass. nâthuê kurdu means “daughter of my heart”, & namadith means "little sister" in khuzdul. the stone gifted to the reader is amazonite. also, see if you can find my “blind burglar” reference lol (that series has taken over my brain holy shit)

“do you truly have to go, fee?”

fíli’s forehead gently thumps against yours, his hands holding you close. “i’m sorry, ghivashel. i wish i didn’t have to go until after, but there’s only so much that can be done from such a dístance.”

you knew he was right, that reestablishing trade to erebor was crucial in gaining a sturdy foothold in the mountain. and since he’s the heir apparent, he has to uphold the duties of his status.

that doesn’t make fíli missing your birthday any less dísappointing.

“i promise you, my love, i will make every effort to be home before your special day.” his lips press gently against yours and you let yourself go in his embrace.

with a playful tug on his braided beard, you bid him safe travels before he mounts his pony and rides off.

-

~ two weeks before your birthday ~

from the day he set out, fíli wrote you all sorts of letters. their contents ranged from how deeply he loved you, to what he had to eat a few days prior, to the weird mannerisms of animals he encountered (there was a ferret that followed him for two whole days that he named thistle, silly little thing). at the end of every letter, for his own reassurance, he wished you a happy birthday in all sorts of flowery language courtesy of balin’s lessons. if the ravens knew he did this because he was frightened of the letters not reaching you in time, they probably would have pecked him a new orifice or two for doubting their efficiency.

the latest letter (and all the others before) had arrived courtesy of a raven named jessamy, a sweet hen that made her favor for your husband over the other royals very much known. she chittered softly at you from the windowsill to get your attention before squawking just loud enough to rouse you from your concentration.

“princess consort! another letter from your husband!”

rising from your desk, you approach the window and give the faithful bird a good chin scratch. “i told you, jess, you don’t have to use titles with me. we’re far beyond all the formalities.” your hands deftly untied the missive from her leg before inviting the raven inside.

it was tradition by now: every time you received a letter from fíli, the loyal raven was offered food and rest on a special cushion you had made specifically for her while waiting for you to pen your reply. jessamy was quite the conversationalist and far more favored company compared to many of the nuisance nobles that now occupied the mountain. the two of you would gossip about your respective circles and duties with afternoon tea before she carried your reply to fee.

she fluffed her wings with indignance. “being an adult or not, i think adad would have my tail feathers if he heard me being so casual with you and prince fíli.”

it took no small amount of willpower to keep from guffawing in your friend’s face. “you think roac is constantly professional with thorin? i’ve heard him on no less than three occasions call uncle an absolute fool!”

“‘do as i say, not as i do’ is a phrase i’ve heard since before i could fly, if that provides any context.”

you chuckled at the turn of phrase that sounds eerily like something thorin would say. “well, the offer still stands, my friend. you know my name and have freedom to use it however you please.”

“duly noted, princess,” her tone told you that she wasn’t planning on doing so anytime soon. dropping the topic, you choose instead to sit and read fíli’s latest letter.

my dearest love,

the weather has been suspiciously kind to us this past week, but i cannot find it in me to look this gift boar in the mouth. we braved but a brief sprinkling from the heavens, and my company was graced with the sight of a rainbow. if i had any sort of artistic ability in my bones, i’d have spent hours simply drawing the colored light as it dísappeared behind the hills we previously crossed. 

i saw the strangest mushroom a few hours after i sent jessamy back to you the time before this, far too late to include it in my letters. it was bright red and oozed something alarmingly bloody when fractured. it looked as if someone slapped a piece of venison onto a tree and called it a fungus. i sliced a piece off to give to oin, i believe he would appreciate it.

as your birthday draws ever nearer, i continue to fear that i won’t arrive home in time to celebrate by your side. as i have in every letter previously, i will remind you that i love you with every muscle and bone in my body. everything i do, i do in hopes i will continue to be the dwarf you deserve, to be someone worthy of your hand. happy birthday, my love. i’ll be home soon.

your prince,

fíli

the smile on your face hurt your cheeks. your dear husband was such a sap that he could rival that of every tree in the woodland realm.

the ornate wooden box you recently commissioned special from bifur sat on your desk, lying in wait for the latest letter to fill it. nothing could bring you to throw away any of the letters fíli has written to you, so you saved every single one all the way back to when you first met him, long before erebor was reclaimed. their new home was far more fitting than the tattered cloth and twine that kept them safe prior to coming to erebor.

would you eventually need to either size up or get more boxes made? most definitely. but for now, this latest letter would fit perfectly inside the box in front of you. adding the date it was received to the bottom, the parchment found its new home among fellow letters.

~ the morning of your birthday ~

fíli wondered, not for the first time in his life, why he allowed himself to be roped into the ridiculous plans his brother concocted. he had just arrived back in erebor mere hours ago, but instead of immediately running to you, here he was in a box. the one good thing was that it was surprisingly spacious, considering that it was, in fact, still a box.

it was all because kíli was unable to finish your true gift from him in time, which is to be a set of leather armor made from hide he collected and tanned himself. he asked dori for your measurements and to help with the ornate stitching he had planned, but other than that, everything was done by his hand alone. but his foolish brother had mistaken the month of your birthday for the one directly after, and now there was no time to see it truly complete.

that’s why he was in a box in the common room of the royal wing.

your party (or at least, the private one) wouldn’t commence until the early afternoon, but kíli was insistent on him staying in his paper-wrapped tomb until it was time. you were to receive gifts from your friends and family, and seeing as many of them would lend themselves to be something you would wear to the royal celebration, the private one would happen first.

at least his brother (and bilbo) were sneaking him food and drink from a sneakily hidden hole so he wouldn’t starve before the festivities began.

-

you woke up to the sound of your mother-in-law rifling through your wardrobe. rubbing your eyes to rid them of the crust from a good sleep, you broke through her whispered mutterings. “amad, what…”

she ignored you in favor of continuing to tear your room apart. “there’s no time, you should have been bathed and braided an hour ago!” at first you’re very confused, but then you remember the day.

groaning, you untangle yourself from your blankets, thankful that your husband warned you that amad would be in your rooms when you woke the morning of your birthday. you were in a more presentable pair of nightclothes than you would have been otherwise.

she heard you ruffling about and immediately approached you, her usual no-nonsense eyes also housing the fondness that only came from a mother. “oh good you’re up. there’s already a bath waiting with your favorite soaps, and when you get out your clothes will be waiting on your bed for you. i’ll help you dress, then we can braid your hair properly.” it was like she never stopped to breathe.

before you could even reply, she was shooing you towards the bathroom while tugging at your nightclothes. “now off you go! no daughter of mine will arrive at her own birthday celebration looking like a hooligan.”

if you were a bit more awake you would have laughed.

some minutes later (no matter how much you wanted to enjoy your morning bath, it would be most unwise to keep dís waiting), you emerged from the bathroom and marveled at the gown that lay waiting for you on the bed.

dís noticed your entrance and smiled at the way your eyes lit up while taking in the fine work. it was dyed in the same durin blue you wore on the day of your wedding, with such intricate work along the hem that you couldn’t help but open your mouth in awe. “dori’s talent never dísappoints, does it?” you nodded your agreement in stunned silence.

there were the signature embroidered sharp edges that defined dwarven fashion, many segments adorned with crystal chips sewn directly into the dress. it wasn’t a crystal you were immediately familiar with, but you enjoyed the way the lighter blue contrasted the deep blue with a bright pop.

“as much as we’d both like to stare at the dress for the next several hours, it would look much better on you.” you bit back the scandalous comment that came to mind that involved your husband liking it better on the floor of your rooms. you’ve been spending far too much time with your brother-in-law.

for being so beautiful, you thought it would be an absolute pain to actually get on. much to your surprise, it slid on your body like a glove. dís fastened it closed and once you were snug inside the gown, she all but pushed you into the chair in front of your vanity to begin braiding your hair.

with the barest amounts of makeup and braids weaved into your hair tighter than gloin’s coin purse, she finally set you free for the moment. she dug in the pockets hidden in the folds of her own dress - something she always insisted on you requesting as well - until she pulled out a small box with the seven stars of durin on the lid.

she placed the box in your hands, her strong, callused ones firmly holding yours into place. “this is my gift for you, nâthuê kurdu. a piece that symbolizes the bond you share with fíli, made by my own hand to celebrate the daughter i never thought i would get.”

it was a beautifully made necklace that had you captivated at first sight. the chain itself was a delicate weave of copper and silver, but the pendant was what gave you pause. it was the sun and moon; the sun was made of tiger’s eye, the stone that dís christened her firstborn with at his own majority, and the moon was made of the same stone that adorned parts of your dress. they faced each other and around them, wrapped in more wire, were diamonds representing the seven stars.

“dís, you didn’t…”

“oh, my daughter, you’ll find that i did.”

“will you tell me about it?”

she gave you your own stone, an honor you knew she only gave to a very select few.

her eyes were glistening just enough to tell you that she was feeling the love as strongly as you were. “it’s a stone given to help find one’s voice, a conduit to aid in speaking from the heart. it influences calm in the owner and will serve you well for the rest of your days, not just as a future queen of erebor, but as a wife and friend.”

you would have been in tears at her speech if not for the playful glare she gave you warning of the consequences of ruining the makeup. “i don’t know what- thank you amad, i will treasure this piece until the end of my days.” that’s all you knew to say, all you could say without blubbering.

after helping you put it on, she wrapped you in a strong embrace that put you back together seamlessly. “if this is how you act with only a necklace, i don’t think you’ll have a chance of retaining composure once we’re back with everyone.”

-

she was definitely right about that. thorin’s gift of an intricate silver circlet embedded with both yours and your husband’s stones had your bottom lip dangerously quivering. he would have been bowled over at your tackle-hug had he not been already sitting down. he merely smiled and pet your head softly, bilbo passing you a handkerchief to wipe the water from your eyes.

thankfully, you were already familiar with the hobbit tradition of giving gifts on one’s birthday instead of receiving, and had presented him with a set of ceramic teacups and matching saucers you made. they weren’t the same high quality fine china he was passed down by his relatives back in the shire, but they could hold tea just fine. it was given with love and usefulness in mind and to bilbo, that’s what mattered.

with every gift you were given, you felt like you could fly with the ravens from the joy. kíli looked oddly suspicious through the entire ordeal, which would have been slightly worrying had it not been your birthday. he wasn’t daft enough to prank you on such an important day lest he risk the wrath of his mother.

it was even worse when he avoided giving you your gift each time the others badgered him to present it already. their gifts had already been presented and your heart filled with love from each.

“kíli, where is your gift?”

“well, uh, you see, what happened was-” dís leveled a glare at him that could have frozen mount doom. “i didn’t finish it in time. but! the moment i complete it, i shall present it with all the pageantry it deserves.”

“well if you don’t have yours to give, then who’s that massive brick from?” dwalin pointed to the massive box. he raised a very valid point that led many a bearded chin to be stroked in confusion. kíli was the last one who hadn’t given his gift, yet while he says his gift wasn’t finished, there was still an unopened present waiting around the fireplace.

you approached it warily, wondering what in the world it could hold to warrant the size of its container. kíli revealed nothing. “just open it and you’ll see, namadith.” the smirk he wore belied trouble of the worst kind.

maybe he wasn’t as intelligent as you gave him credit for.

“i swear, inudoy, if that box has anything that risks ruining the joy of this day, i will tan your hide and give what little meat there is on your bones to bombur to serve with tonight’s dinner!” dís’s warning did nothing but widen the grin on his face, which would have been rather frightening if you couldn’t hear muffled laughter from the box in front of you.

it was a laugh you fell in love with many moons ago, the one that followed your silly jokes and the sight of his brother getting flattened by dwalin on the training grounds. it was the laugh of your beloved husband, barely being concealed by the box itself and the bickering erupting from the others.

you opened the lid with a knowing smile and as soon as it was removed, fíli popped up with his arms outstretched. “happy birthday, ghivashel!” he attempted to step out of the box to properly embrace you, but it seems his time in the box had put a damper on his ability to properly walk. instead, he tumbled out of it and nearly brought you to the ground as he tried to brace himself.

your laughter mingled with his, neither of you paying attention to the sniggers from the onlookers. “fíli! when did you get back?! please tell me you haven’t been in that box for the past three days!” it appeared in the common room a few days prior and the curiosity about what it could be plagued you for hours upon first glimpse. but no one else seemed to have any clue about it, so you let your curiosity rest.

he chuckled as he stretched his legs out, braving the tingling feeling you knew he was experiencing from being cooped up for durin knows how long. “i only arrived very early this morning. i barely had time to bathe before my fool of a brother was shoving me into this thing and sneaking me food.” he shook his head and laughed, pressing a solid kiss to your temple. “and thank you for the tea earlier, uncle bilbo!”

the hobbit waved him off with a smile, nudging thorin lovingly to get him to pay attention to the fact the contents of the box wouldn’t, in fact, result in him being short a nephew.

“i hate to say it fee, but i think your brother has gotten me the best gift so far.”

“you’ll just have to wait until tonight, kurdu.”

“i look forward to it.”

[ribboniest]

Long live the queen part 2

Part one

Y/N POV

“Finally!”

I let out a deep breath as I finally found the door with the mark. I’ve been on the road for… about a week? I just hope that I’m not too late or too early for the meeting that Gandalf mentioned.

I got off my pony and started shaking any dirt from the journey off of my clothes.

As I stood in front of the door, ready to knock on it, the realization of what I’m ACTUALLY doing finally hit me. A journey? To reclaim a dwarven mountain from a goddamn DRAGON? Only a madman would do that. But I’m no madman.

I’m a madwoman.

So, here we go.

I took a deep breath after knocking three times on the door. Loud noises that were coming from the hobbit hole suddenly disappeared, replaced by a long silence.

And that’s when the door opened.

I didn’t hear any footsteps approaching, so the person opening the door most have been next or very close to it.

it was gandalf.

He gave me a small bow as he let me in; and I was shocked at how crowded it was, but I didn’t show it.

Gandalf turned to someone next to him:

“And here is the 16th member I chose for the company”

The silence turned into whispers and the whispers quickly turned into loud voices complaining about a fearie joining them, and a female one at this point.

The person standing next to Gandalf shouted something in… khuzdul, if I remember correctly from the books I had back in the castle, and everyone immediately went quiet.

I turned to look at him for the first time.

He was taller than me, and as a fearie I didn’t expect a dwarf to be shorter than me, even though I was tall for a fearie, he seemed to be also tall for a dwarf.

And when I looked into his eyes, that’s when I got a… strange feeling.

It wasn’t fear, I’m a girl who fights her father on a daily basis and it certainly isn’t the disgust that I held for most men. I couldn’t say it was RESPECT, but there was definitely something about him that made him seem different from the others.

I introduced myself as he stared down at me.

“I am Y/N, and I’m a warrior”

They didn’t need to know that you were the heir to the throne of an ancient kingdom just yet.

-“have you read and signed the contract?”

The dwarf that quieted the others earlier asked.

I quickly pulled out the contract and handed it to him. He looked at my sign and then back at me, and gave me a weird look. An older dwarf with white beard also checked the contract and looked at me, then at the other dwarf who I had a feeling was the leader of this company. It’s weird for me not to be the leader, but I can’t complain.

They nodded at each other and the older dwarf turned to offer me a kind smile:

-“everything seems to be in order. Welcome to the company of Thorin okensheild, miss Y/N”

The other dwarf, Thorin okensheild I guessed, didn’t look as happy as he turned to leave the room:

-“we’re leaving at the first light next morning, be ready and don’t waste any time”

[middleearthpixie]

Something in the Night ~ Chapter Eleven

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: Unprotected intercourse, a little teeny bit of angst

Rating: M

Word Count: 4.5k

Khuzdul: kurduwê - my heart

  Abnâmul-beautiful

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @legolasbadass @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically@notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Nina managed to avoid Thorin for the rest of the day, which actually wasn't all that difficult, as she remained in her chambers and had no idea where he had gone. He might have left, for all she knew. In fact, she almost hoped he had. It would make things easier. 

She saw him at supper, however, and it was with a mixture of relief and apprehension, as more than once, he looked over at her as if he was going to say something, only to turn back instead to Thranduíl or Legolas. Her heart actually felt as if it skipped a beat when he got up and moved to sit beside her. “We plan to leave at dawn’s first light.”

She nodded. “And should I meet you?”

“Only if you wish to travel with us.”

“Do you wish me to travel with you?”

Irritation flashed through his blue eyes. “Why would you ask me that?”

“I think it’s obvious, don't you?”

He glanced across the table at Dwalin, and then toward their hosts before looking back at her. “I apologize for overstepping earlier, Nina. It was foolish of me and right of you to halt things as you did.”

“You needn’t apologize,” she told him. “I overstepped just as much and I thought we were going to pretend it never happened?”

“I just—I sense you’re still angry with me.”

“I wasn’t angry with you at all. You were angry with me.”

He drew in a slow breath. “I wasn't angry with you.”

“So, then it never happened?”

“It never happened.”

“Good.” Although she smiled as if a huge weight had been lifted, the truth was, she felt anything but happy over this turn of events. On the walkway, when he kissed her, it reminded her of all the feelings she’d had that snowy night in Esgaroth, when she first laid eyes upon him. Reminded her of all the feelings that were so wonderful and frustrating at the same time and how she’d wished with everything she had that he would notice her.

And now he had and it was all for naught. She was no longer that same lovestruck girl. Too much had happened since then and now for her to ever be that girl again. 

Which was too bad, really, as she thoroughly enjoyed kissing him and if things hadn’t worked out the way they had…

She could easily fall under his spell, for the King Under the Mountain had no idea how truly desirable he was, and she had the feeling that Mirkwood was not the only thing magical around her. 

“So, I will see you in the morning,” she told him, pushing her chair back. 

“We will wait for you at the eastern gate.”

“Good.” She stood and smiled at Thranduíl. “Thank you for a lovely supper, Your Majesty. If you will excuse me, I think I will go and get what will probably be my last good night’s sleep for some time to come.”

“Of course,” Thranduíl replied. “Good evening.”

She turned and left the dining hall to go back to her chambers. After she and Thorin parted ways that morning, she had gone down to the stream that flowed not far from her chambers and gathered the clothes she wished to wash. Heeding his warnings about enchanted waters, she took great care to pay close attention to her surroundings, but nothing seemed at all amiss to her.

Even so, she’d washed everything as quickly as she could and laid it out on the rocks to allow it to dry and now, her sword at her hip, she went to retrieve everything. Hopefully, it would be dry enough to pack. It had been a clear day, with sun filtering through the treetops, so she thought there was a good chance everything would be just fine. 

Carefully, she picked her way around tree roots, branches, and the typical woodland debris as she made her way to the bank where her trousers and tunics lay spread out on rocks that were still warm.

She’d chosen wisely.

She was just folding her trousers when the sound of a branch snapping gave her pause. Her sword lay at her feet, so she swept it up and rose, saying, “Who goes?”

“I thought I told you to stay away from the streams?”

Her shoulders relaxed as Thorin came around the bend in the path. “You did and this one is fine.”

“Nina.”

“What? The air feels fine here. And besides, I am not your responsibility. I’m certainly of the age where I can decide for myself where to launder my clothes.” She resheathed her blade, then crouched to pluck the shirt she’d laid out from its rock.

“You need to be careful.”

“I am being careful.” She gave up trying to fold anything and just stuffed the mostly dry clothes into her sack. Then she rose, slipping the strap over her shoulder. “Why are you even here?”

“Because I wanted to make certain you made it back to your chambers all right.”

“Back to my… we aren’t in the wild, Thorin.” She pushed around him to march back toward her chambers. 

“We might as well be. I told you, Mirkwood is not always as it seems and dark magic permeates it. I am on cordial terms with the elves here, but they don't know you.”

“The elves have nothing to fear from me, either. And somehow, I think they know that.” She didn't slow down, didn't break her stride as she made her way along the path. “And stop following me.”

“I will. Once you are safe in your chambers.”

“Argh!” She rolled her eyes, and promptly stumbled over an exposed root, but managed to keep her footing and continue on.

At her door, she turned to find him still right behind her. “See? I’m fine. Now, you can just go about your business and I will see you in the morning.”

“Nina,” he reached for her, catching her just above the elbow to halt her, “I know this place and I know what it can do to a body.”

“And I am fine. Nothing reached forth from the water to grab me. No nymphs or balrogs or anything.” She opened her door and stepped over the threshold, setting her sack just inside it, her sword alongside it, and then sighed softly. “I appreciate your concern. But, I’ve made it all this way on my own, remember.”

“I know, but… I cannot help it.” He gestured to her. “May I?”

“Come in.”

He thumped into her chambers, his heavy boots echoing loudly against the wood floor. “I’m not checking up on you because I think you’re incapable of taking care of yourself. Or because I think you are inept. I’ve seen for myself you aren’t. But, I also want to make certain you are safe, Nina. And I’ll not apologize for that.”

“I’m not asking you to apologize for it. But I also don't need you to worry about me. Really, I don’t. I’ve been taking care of myself for quite a bit now, and I’m mostly good at it.”

He arched one brow. “Mostly?”

“Well… every now and then something goes wrong.”

“Such as a to-do at a tavern?”

“Exactly.”

“I know, but…” to her surprise, he closed the space between them and her heartbeat picked up as he reached to catch her face in his hands, “that won’t stop me from wanting to be certain, as I said.”

“Thorin,” her head spun, slowly at first, but as his thumbs swept lightly across her cheeks, the dizziness grew, spreading through her, “I thought we agreed this morning never happened?”

“I know,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips just brushed hers. “Do you truly wish to pretend that, though?”

“I just—” She couldn’t catch her breath as he brushed her lips with his again, the last of her resolve melting away at the gentle caress. No, she didn't want to pretend that at all. Not tonight. Tonight, she wanted to forget everything that led her to this point. None of it mattered. Not one bit. All that mattered was the feel of his hands against her skin, his lips sweeping hers, and the heat that rose from his body to sink into hers.

He pulled back just far enough to offer up a smile laden with promise and whispered, “You just what, Nina?”

She smiled and without thinking, caught the front of his henley in a fist and tugged him back. “Never mind. Just kiss me, dwarf…”

A low rumble of laughter rolled up from him as he did just that, and leaned in to capture her lips in a soft, gentle kiss. It did not remain soft and gentle for long, however, as a slow fire crept into it, the tip of his tongue brushing her closed lips, teasing them into parting before sweeping along hers in silken caress that she reciprocated. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, as solid as the rest of him, the rise of muscle across them like granite. As the kiss deepened, she slid her hands up along the sides of his neck, into his hair, cool and soft against her fingers. On their own, her fingers twisted into those soft locks, her heart thundering like mad now as he backed her flush against the wall.

It wasn't like anything she’d ever felt before, the solid bulk of a dwarf’s body was so much different from the thinner, more sinewy Men who’d stolen kisses from her before. This was… this was like being engulfed by him, surrounded by a maleness that no Man could ever hope to possess. And when his hips slowly, steadily arched to meet hers, she shivered at the obvious  evidence of his arousal. How could she miss it, when that most definite bulge met her most sensitive cleft and she shivered against him?

His tongue moved slowly, teasingly along hers in a caress that sent her head spinning wildly and her heart pounding out of control. The room around them grew so hot, her breath grew so impossible to catch, and when he broke the kiss to sweep his lips along her chin and down the front of her neck, Nina was powerless to do anything other than let her head thud dully against the wall and let her eyes close as the delicious heat swept through her.

His fingers curled into the hem of her tunic and he swept it up, pulling away to allow her room to lift her arms for him to slip the shirt from her back completely. The air was a warm kiss against her skin, a caress as wanton and wicked as any and when he came flush against her again, the rough weave of his henley scraped sensually against her skin, against her nipples, which beaded from the friction. 

She bit down on her bottom lip as he brushed his lips over her chin. The coarse fur of his beard scratched her, but it only heightened her pleasure as he pressed hot kiss after hot kiss down toward the hollow of her throat, his breath warm and hard against her overheated skin. She clung to him, her hips rocking to meet his, his desire becoming her own as inside her, knots tightened and that heat surged through her. 

He slid one hand up from her hip, along the slope of her waist, and she sucked in a hard breath when it cupped her left breast and his thumb just barely swept over the already tight, aching bead of her nipple. 

Gripping two handfuls of his shirt, she tugged and he obliged, the rough garment sweeping up and off him to fall into the darkness at their feet. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders, his skin hot and firm, the muscle like granite beneath his skin. She ached to touch him, to sweep her lips over any part of him she could, to explore and tease and make him ache for her the way she ached for him.

Because she did ache for him. Her entire body cried out for his, pleaded with her to find some way to make him spirit her to the bed in the corner, where her legs would part of their own and she would welcome him hot and hard and powerful inside her. 

Knots twisted in her belly. Delicious knots of sinful delight that tightened with each sweep of his tongue against hers, with each pass of his roughened thumbs over her oh-so-sensitive nipples. Her arousal came damp and hot between her thighs, and she wanted to peel off her trousers, to wrap her legs about him, and ease that ache in any way she could. 

His lips were hot and damp, his kisses punctuated with teasing flicks of his tongue, playful nips with his teeth as he moved along the curve of her neck, then swept back down along the same path.

He kissed down along the inner curve of her left breast and she whimpered from the fiery pleasure streaking through her. Her eyes were so heavy-lidded, but she forced them open, drinking in the sight of him as he sank to his knees before her while raining a path of teasing kisses along her belly.

He looked up then, his eyes smoked sapphire as he caught the button of her trousers and slid it free. The linen skimmed along her legs, and when he looked up, fire filled his gaze, his eyes blazing sapphire to steal the breath from her lungs. 

“Abnâmul,” he whispered, his voice husky and low as his fingertips just grazed along the backs of her thighs.”

“I—I don't know what that means,” she managed to whisper back. “I don’t speak your tongue.”

A devilish smile played at his lips. “It means you are beautiful.”

Heat flared through her. Heat from his words. From his gaze. From his touch. It was a wonder she didn't melt into a puddle right then, especially when he leaned in and pressed a hot kiss just below her navel. 

For a moment, she thought he might move lower, and she tensed in anticipation.

But then, he kissed her belly above her navel. And higher still. And with each kiss, he rose until he loomed over her once more. 

His mouth found hers again, hot and demanding and she matched his fire with one of her own, winding her arms about his neck, tightening them to pull him flush against her. He offered no resistance, wrapping his arms about her to lift her from her feet. She caught his sigh in her mouth when she teasingly wrapped her legs about his waist and in that moment, he arched into her. She couldn’t hold back her sharp inhale as pleasure zinged through her from the contact and she shivered against him. 

He carefully turned, moving slowly toward her bed, and when he reached it, he bent, pressed her down, and arched once more, this time his breath hitching when she rocked up to meet him firmly. 

Thorin drew back, straightening up and in the soft light, Nina was certain she’d never seen a sight as utterly amazing as the half-naked dwarf standing before her. The light played softly about him, highlighting the swells of muscle across his arms, his shoulders, packed beneath the dark hair spread wide across his chest and down along his belly. He wasn't slim, as Men were, but instead far more compact and solid, as if he could pick up a fully loaded cart, horses and all, and not even break a sweat.

He was beautiful.

And she wanted to see more of him.

She sat up and without thinking, bent to him, pressing her lips against his lower stomach, just above the fastenings of his trousers. His hands came down onto her head, his fingers threading into her hair, tightening on her when she flicked her tongue against him, through that crisp hair, against the warm skin beneath it. 

Her fingers moved nimbly, working open the fastenings, curling about the waistband, shoving down to send the heavy fabric grazing down his thick thighs, over his equally thick calves, to puddle about his ankles. He carefully stepped out of them, kicking them behind him.

Nina gazed up at him, her heart hammering her ribs as she hooked her fingers in his warm linen small clothes. In a heartbeat, she would finally see this man in all his glory and was as anxious as she was terrified at what awaited her.

“What is it?” he murmured, tracing a forefinger along the curve of her cheek. “Have you changed your mind?”

Her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth, which had gone far too dry to allow her to speak, she shook her head, swallowed hard, then whispered, “Have you?”

“I’ve not, no.”

“Neither have I.”

A hint of that devilish smile returned and he reached to cover her hands with his. “Then allow me to help you.”

With that, he stripped off his small clothes and  she smiled as she drew back to drink in the sight of him. 

He was perfect. 

Absolutely perfect.

His big body held very little fat, honed to perfection by whatever it was dwarves did that kept him in such fine form. She let her eyes feast upon him, let her fingers move lightly through the dark hair swirled thickly across his chest, down over his belly, where it joined a far denser patch.

Her mouth went dry at the sight of him, thick and hard and proud and the pit of her belly fell away. He was the first naked man she’d ever seen and somehow, she felt there was not a man alive of any race who would ever top this one magnificent dwarf. 

Swallowing hard, Nina leaned in to press a hot kiss above his navel this time. That dark hair was so soft, tickling her nose and her lips. Thorin let out a low sigh as he pulled back, shifted, and bent to capture her lips once more. As the kiss deepened, he gently pushed her down onto her back and came up over her, his dark hair tumbling over his shoulders to surround them.

He caught one hand, pressing it down into the bed above her head, linking his fingers with hers to offer up a gentle squeeze as he carefully came flush against her and their lips met in a kiss that was more tender than fire, but no less passionate. 

With his free hand, Thorin let his fingertips dance along her skin, the caresses light and teasing, the sensations sweet and sensual as they fluttered through her. Her fingers threaded through his soft hair, twisted and tugged as those fingers swept lower, along her belly, down her thigh.

Into the darkness between them. 

Her legs parted of their own accord and her back bowed as he slid those fingers into the heat between her thighs, into the dark red curls damp with her arousal now.

He caught her gasp as he slid a thick, slow, teasing finger inside her and did something utterly magical. She couldn't hold back her cry as fiery pleasure swept through her, didn’t even try to hold it back. How could she, when it just felt so amazingly good?

Actually, good did not even come close to what Thorin made her feel. Nothing could compare to the white-hot pleasure scorching through her at that moment, the pleasure that made her blood sing and her body hum as he teased and tortured her in the most deliciously sensual way possible. She arched to meet him, his name a breathless whisper on her lips, every fiber in her body tensing with the need for release. She was so close… so very close…

“Thorin!” His name erupted in a cry that she immediately tried to quell by clapping a hand over her mouth. “I didn't mean to be so loud… I hope Dwalin doesn’t come in search of you. He might think we’re doing battled in here.”

“If he comes in search of me, I’ll tell him where to go,” he whispered back with a smile. Then, he did something magical with that finger that made her pulse all around him once more and as he eased it out, he shifted, and then—

He filled her slowly, allowed her to adjust to him, and she bit down on her bottom lip at the sensations running riot through her. She arched to meet him, to accept him completely, as he slid deep, he shivered against her. 

His first thrust was long and silken. His second, even more. His lips found hers, her rhythm found his, and they moved in a slow dance, the pleasure feeding from one to the other as he brought them both back to that summit. 

She tightened about him, throbbing as he arched hard and deep, and her fingernails sank into his shoulders, her hips arcing toward his. Nothing ever felt so wonderful. Nothing would ever feel so wonderful. It simply couldn’t. Each thrust brought forth and new and delectable sensation, a pleasure unlike any she’d ever felt—hot and sweet and wild and amazing. 

Knots of sweet bliss tightened hard inside her, aching with the renewed need for release. She teetered on the edge, her thighs pressed hard against his sides as she will him to send her over the edge. She’d go mad if he didn't shatter those knots and burned for him to do just that.

“Mesmel…” a low string of words she didn't understand bubbled to his lips as his thrusts came faster and harder now. The fingers linked with hers tightened about them. His climax bore down upon him, judging by the power of those thrusts, by the tension winding through him. 

He moaned low in his throat, his thrusts increasing in strength, in depth. The knots began to loosen now as the first sweet, fiery tingles took hold of her, swelling and multiplying as he growled her name and practically tore the linens from the mattress with his free hand, while nearly crushing hers with his other. “Nina!”

Her name exploded from his lips as he thrust hard and deep and came in a powerful shudder that triggered her own climax and left her clinging to him, her fingernails dragging hard across his back as her fingers tensed of their own accord. Her eyes squeezed shut at the explosion of her release, at the white-hot tingles burning through her. She wrapped herself around him, gave herself up to the fire that threatened to swallow her whole. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t hear or speak beyond a breathless cry. All she could do was let that wave wash over her, let it carry her out to sea, and so she did, her surrender complete.

Thorin sank against her, his breathing as rough and ragged as hers and tears stung her eyes as she wrapped her arms about his neck and his head came to rest against her breast. “Oh…” was all she could manage to breathe.

His own breath was a hot blast against her skin. “Oh, indeed…” he managed to whisper back, a hint of laughter woven into his words. 

He lifted his head to regard her with sleepy cobalt eyes, a sharp contrast to the long black hair that fell about them. He said nothing, but bent to capture her lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss that had every bit as much passion woven into it as their lovemaking had, and when he pulled back, he whispered, “Am I crushing you, kurduwê?”

“I’m fine,” she whispered back, reaching up to thread her fingers through his hair, tucking it back behind his right ear. She had no idea what kurduwê meant, but had no energy to ask. The tranquility that settled over them was unlike any she’d ever felt, a complement to the passion that had just raged between them, like the calm after a fierce storm.

Thorin shifted and eased from her, then stretched out alongside her, pulling her into his arms as he sank into the pillows. His breathing had return to normal, though his breath hitched when she curved up against him and laid her hand gently on his chest. She could feel his heart beat, which started out at a race, but slowed to a more relaxed pace and when she let her head come rest against him, she gave in to the peace and let her eyes close. 

The only sound was that of Thorin’s deep, even breathing and occasional snore. Nina lay alongside him, his arm about her shoulders, her head resting against him, but sleep refused to come. 

What had she done? 

What had they done? 

She had not meant for this to happen. It was a terrible idea to sleep with him because now her thoughts were muddier than ever. 

Carefully, she slipped from the bed, easing from beneath his arm, and held her breath as she waited for him to wake and demand to know what she was doing and why she had her sword out.

For she did just that. Crept over to where her sword stood against the wall and slid it from its sheath, then crept back to the bed. It would be over in a moment and she could slip off into the darkness. By the time Dwalin or anyone came looking for Thorin tomorrow, it would be too late and she would be in the wind.

It would be so easy.

Except…

He slept on, peacefully oblivious to her struggle. The silver streaks in his black hair glinted in the pale moonlight that filtered through the treetops, just as the sun did during the day. The long curls spread across the linens. His lips were softly slack. His chest rose and fell with each slow, deep breath.

Her gaze went lower, to the scars on his lower abdomen that she’d seen earlier, but couldn't bring herself to ask him about. She’d heard what happened at Ravenhill between him and Azog, although the pale orc was never called by name at the time. All Esgaroth survivors knew was that Thorin had been wounded in battle at the hands of a great pale orc. She only assumed now that orc was Azog. 

Her hands trembled as she brought the blade up and held it over him. The bounty Azog had offered for Thorin Oakenshield’s head had been a small fortune. Payable in gold. It would have been more than enough to keep her comfortable for a long time. 

This was her plan. This was what she set out to do, to avenge Lenna, and Rhys and Ena. 

One move was all it would take.

He was asleep. He’d never feel a thing.

She tried to make her hands move. Tried to make her arms listen.

She couldn't do it. 

Not any longer.

Shame, hot and steaming burned through her. Tears blurring her vision, she managed to return her sword to its sheath and crawled back into bed alongside him. Forgive me.

She had to tell him the truth. 

[lathalea]

Wild Strawberries

Moodboard by @linasofia 😍

Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: Thorin x f!OC Warnings: smut, pure smut, so help me Mahal Rating: E (18+)

Summary: Several years after Erebor is reclaimed, Thorin decides to celebrate his beloved wife's birthday... and is very enthusiastic about it. A/N: This story is a birthday gift for @legolasbadass from Linasofia and yours truly. Once again HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LB! 🎉🎁🎈

You can find this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Bunnelê - my treasure of treasures

Leaving the northmost spur of the Lonely Mountain behind him, Thorin entered the forest at its foot. The lush, dark emerald sea of pine trees surrounded him; each of them at least as tall as two grown Men—their rapid growth being the result of the magic the elves of the Woodland Realm bestowed upon this land in exchange for goods only Erebor could provide them with. It was a bright summer day and the sun speckled the undergrowth of the forest with gold, as if someone scattered countless coins across it. A small smile curved up Thorin’s lips at the recollection of that very profitable agreement with the Elves and the role his clever wife played in hammering it out a couple of years ago. Anila… Ah, his sweet Anila and her talent of finding useful information in ancient tomes and musty treaties. Then, her cunning negotiation tactics side-blinded the Sylvan negotiator, driving every single clause home. The precedent she found—dating five hundred years ago—was instrumental in cornering the Elves and making them agree to their conditions. There was nothing better than the taste of flawless victory… especially if followed by a private but intense celebration that took place in his marital bed. 

Taking in a deep breath, Thorin allowed himself to close his eyes and feel the tension leave his body. Being the king of a prosperous Dwarvish kingdom was a great privilege, but also a sizable burden; one that could have felt almost unbearable at times—if not for the assistance of his royal consort. Thank Mahal for the ancient tradition that required the king to take a wife. At first, this was to be an arranged marriage but one day spent in Anila’s company when they met for the first time, a year after Erebor was reclaimed, was enough for Thorin to know this would be an union of both hearts and minds.

Today was a special day: his wife’s birthday. Thorin’s most trusted companions and aides were working deep in the mountain, at the shore of the underground lake, preparing the celebrations for the evening: there were hundreds of candles to be lit and put onto minuscule boats that would float on the lake; countless flowers to decorate the caverns; dozens of dishes to be served, music and dances to be planned, and many other surprise attractions to be planned. Thorin’s task was to divert Anila’s attention until it was time for the celebrations—and diverting his lovely wife’s attention happened to be one of his favourite pastimes.

And so he found himself on the forest path, with a full picnic basket in his hand, on his way to Anila’s favourite hideout. From time to time, she would disappear with a thick roll of parchments and a quill and then return hours later with a mysterious smile on her face and ink-stained fingers. Thorin would take her hand into his, place an ardent kiss over her knuckles and ask what she had been up to. The smile on her delicious lips would widen, she would hide that roll of parchments behind her back, rise up on her tiptoes, peck his cheek, and murmur into his ear, “It is a secret of the state, my king.” The sultry tones in her voice would make his blood sing in his veins—that was a clear invitation to flirt, and with Anila, that game two of them played often ended with their clothes scattered all around, and them panting, their bodies entangled, in the most unusual places of the Mountain.

That was his Anila, an incandescent mix of fire and tenderness.

Today, she mysteriously disappeared before he woke, and now he was finally on her trail. He took a few more steps ahead among the brambles, careful not to make any noise, when he saw a familiar silhouette sitting on a blanket. It was Anila; her back was turned towards him, but he would recognize the dress she wore, one of her favourites, and the silky waves of her beautiful hair everywhere, dark as smoky quartz, the braids that adorned it, and the marriage beads with the sigil of his house he offered her over the marriage anvil on the day of their wedding. Her hair was side-swept to the right, uncovering the column of her neck, and Thorin licked his lips at the sight, wanting to press them against that smooth skin and taste it.

Later, he scolded himself. He was on a mission, after all.

After slowly placing the basket on the ground, he soundlessly kneeled inches behind her. Whatever Anila was doing, she was clearly focused, so much so that she did not notice his approach. Only when his hands covered her eyes from behind, she squeaked in surprise.

“Guess who…” Thorin murmured straight into her ear, his voice low and sensual. He was very much aware of the effect his voice had on her and he was determined to make a good use of it today.

“Thorin…! You scared me!” she chuckled, looking anything but frightened. Anila turned her face back towards him, taking his hands into hers and lowering them onto her lap. He still held her in an embrace and did not plan to let her go.

“Have I?” He lifted his eyebrow in amusement, moving his lips closer to hers. “May I remedy it somehow?”

Anila blinked, her eyes glittering with mirth.

“That would depend on the remedy, my king,” she offered.

He brushed his lips oh-so-lightly against hers. They were as soft as he remembered, and she smelled like those blue flowers he never remembered the name of, so sweet and innocent, like the break of a new day. When she held her breath as their lips joined for a few heartbeats, a sign that he had her full attention, Thorin deepened the kiss with as much tenderness as he could muster, his hand delving into her cascading hair, until he felt her body pressing against him in anticipation for more. A large part of him wanted to continue, coaxed by her dizzying closeness and that little sigh she gave, but he needed to follow his plan. It was his wife’s birthday and this day needed to be perfect—just like her.

He moved back slightly, giving her cheek a slight caress with his fingertips and trying to ignore the wave of arousal he felt looking at her slightly swollen lips, like fresh raspberries, her shining eyes, and her heaving bosom. She wore a green dress, one of her favourites, that happened to be one of his favourite garments of hers as well due to a generously revealing neckline. Mahal, this plan of his was more difficult to carry out than he thought. He was supposed to be the one offering distraction, not the other way around.

“I brought the remedy with me, my queen,” he hummed, placing the heavy basket between them and sitting down beside it. It contained the best delicacies the royal kitchens had to offer.

“A lunch?” she peeked under the colourfully embroidered piece of cloth that covered the basket. “It smells lovely.”

“I cannot allow my wife to starve, can I?” Thorin replied, taking in the way she looked at that moment—with a playful smile and golden specks of sun kissing her face, one of them dancing at the tip of her nose. He wondered whether his plan of having a romantic midday meal with his wife would be ruined if he was to kiss that very spot now.

“You are a very attentive husband. Let us eat, then!” Anila decided, putting away a stack of parchments from her lap to the side. Her fingers were stained with ink.

“May I ask what you were working on?” Thorin said, taking out all kinds of food from the basket. Freshly baked bread, three kinds of cheese straight from Dale, white radishes, a jar of honey, hazelnuts and a bottle of good wine from his private cellar.

“You may,” Anila reached for the bread. “But I will not tell you. Not yet, at least. It is not yet finished.”

“So it is as I feared. You are writing a memoir of our scandalous marriage,” Thorin crunched on a radish with gusto.

He adored making her laugh and the way her laughter found its way to her eyes.

“I doubt Erebor is ready for such a read,” she uttered between giggles. “Besides, technically speaking, the events pertaining to our marriage are a state secret and therefore cannot be made public.”

“Perhaps it is for the best. I do not think I would be happy if our whole kingdom would know of my wife’s talents,” he cast her a meaningful glance. “I would rather keep to myself the things you can do with your… ouch!”

A piece of bread hit him right in the middle of his chest as Anila cleared her throat loudly.

“... brilliant mind. I meant your brilliant mind!” Thorin explained, trying to make his words sound as sincere as he could.

“Truly? Is that what you are thinking about at this very moment?” she teased.

“What else? I am still in awe about the way you handled those envoys from Minas Tirith,” Thorin hoped he looked like an embodiment of innocence at the moment.

“Oh? Remind me?” Anila tilted her head and gracefully licked her honey-covered fingers. It made Thorin swallow hard. That vixen. She knew very well what she was doing to him, but he was going to be strong and so he continued this charade.

“That expression of shock on their faces when they understood they would be discussing matters of state with a woman! And the realisation that you completely outwitted them!” Thorin could not help himself but chuckle at the memory.

“Ah yes, I seem to remember something along these lines,” she admitted, lazily taking another bite of bread and looking into his eyes. A drop of honey landed on her shapely bosom, making Thorin lick his lips as it glistened in the sun.

“And so you should, bunnelê. You used their greatest weakness against them marvellously. I will never understand why the People of Men underestimate their women so,” he reached out to take her hand and placed a kiss on it. Not over the knuckles, oh no, his lips found the centre of her palm and pressed against her skin. She smelled like flowers in bloom and tasted like honey. Despite the food they ate, his hunger was far from satiated.

“Cultural differences, my love,” Anila replied, cupping his bearded jaw before freeing her hand from his. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her fingers brushing against his beard. “One of our greatest assets when dealing with Men.”

“Exactly as I said, brilliant mind,” he gave her a playful smirk that coaxed a silvery burst of laughter from Anila.

This atmosphere—and their mutual teasing—reigned throughout the whole meal, accompanied by the twittering of the forest birds and gentle rustling of trees. You are a lucky Dwarf, thought Thorin, enjoying the feeling of content, laying on his side, his body weight resting on his elbow as he admired the sight in front of him. A beautiful day spent with a companion who is not only beautiful but also smart… to the point of putting your willpower to a test with her merciless teasing. And she happens to be your wife. Just look at her, the way the summer breeze plays with her hair, the way she takes a sip of wine, her sensual lips wrapping over the edge of her cup, or the way her fingers seem to dance in the air as she explains something about that newest decree on mining safety. And the way she speaks your name, with so much feeling and softness in her eyes. Is she not perfect? The true queen of your heart?

Thorin would never put these thoughts into words, of course. His wife would surely think him ridiculously mawkish and overly sentimental. The king of the Khazad of the Lonely Mountain should be anything but ridiculous. The best course of action was to keep such maudlin thoughts to himself.

“I think a dessert is in order,” he decided after a few more moments of his reverie.

“A dessert? I feel so full, I do not think I can eat even a bit more,” Anila sighed.

Thorin simply said, “Wild strawberries.”

“What?” she gasped.

He placed a small woven basket in front of her, its contents covered with peppermint leaves.

“How…? This forest is too young for wild strawberries…” she whispered to herself, removing the leaves and seeing small, oblong ruby-red shapes laid out in layers. “They smell delicious. It has to be magic!”

“Try one and see for yourself,” Thorin gave her a triumphant smile. Surprising his wife was something he never had enough of. Perhaps it was also partially because of the enthusiastic way she showed their gratitude, but even a king could be self-indulgent from time to time, he decided.

“A rider from the Woodland Realm brought them at the break of dawn,” he divulged his secret, admiring the way his wife put one of the berries into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed approvingly.

“You asked King Thranduil for a handful of the first wild strawberries of the season?” she then asked.

“Aye.”

“And he agreed?”

“Aye.”

“And sent a messenger to you in the middle of the night?”

“As you can see,” he pointed at the berries in front of them.

“Are you truly telling me you had a peaceful conversation with Thranduil during which you agreed on something? Without shouting and cursing each other’s ancestors five generations back? I think I will go with the ‘magic’ explanation,” Anila shook her head, but Thorin noticed the sparks of laughter in her eyes.

“I did not say there was no shouting involved,” he humoured her.

“If you say so,” she chuckled and took another berry. “Mmmm… They are very sweet. Have you tasted them yet?”

Thorin shook his head.

Without a word, she put the berry into his mouth and let him close his lips over her lingering fingers a moment before she retreated them.

“Very sweet indeed,” he admitted, still feeling her caress against his skin. “Just like you.”

Now it was his turn to take a berry and offer it to Anila. Her lips opened a bit and she gently took it between her lips, the tip of her tongue brushing against his fingertips. A wave of heat passed through him, a multitude of thoughts flooded his mind, but not a single one of them was mawkish.

Before he had a chance to react, she put another berry into his mouth and sealed it with hers. A low purr escaped him when their lips met, her kiss even sweeter than the fruit, and he tasted her to his heart’s content. There was tenderness and gentleness in that kiss, but the song of her supple lips dancing against his spoke of fire kindling inside her—and in his mind, Thorin agreed that it was time for another kind of distraction. He covered her cheeks with a myriad of feather-light kisses, whispering words of adoration into her ear as her fingers ran through his hair, caressing his scalp, eliciting a groan of pleasure out of him. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, revelling in the way she responded to him, their bodies pressed against each other, their lips on fire. Then his lips traced a smooth trail along the line of her jaw, and found the way to her neck. Each of his kisses aimed at claiming her skin, every single inch of it. She tilted her head back invitingly and he continued his explorations, his lips finding the sensitive spot below her ear, and then adorning that place at the juncture of her neck and shoulder with kisses, precisely the way she liked it. When she rewarded him with a moan, he felt her body tremble in anticipation. Thorin was still hungry, hungry for her, even hungrier than before, and he refused to restrict himself any longer. Not on a day like this. 

He lay her on the blanket, her eyes shining, her cheeks slightly flushed, the round peaks of her breasts rising and falling, her hair scattered around her head, glowing in the sun like a halo or richly veined marble, and he found himself in need of stealing yet another kiss.

“Anila,” he murmured, “you are breathtaking.”

She did not reply—busy with stealing a kiss from him this time and wrapping her arms around his neck—while his hand travelled down until he felt that round, supple softness under his palm and the warmth that seeped through the thin fabric of her gown. He played with the idea of simply ripping her bodice—her whole gown—apart and feasting on her naked body until dusk and beyond… and then wrapping her in his cloak and smuggling her back into the mountain for a long and eventful bath, the birthday celebrations be damned, but this tempting plan had to wait. Instead, he gave her breast a gentle squeeze and proceeded to undo the front of her bodice while his lips slipped down her neck and found the sweet spot on her left breast that tasted like honey.

“The High Council…” Anila gasped as his tongue swirled over her skin and then his lips closed over the spot again. “That meeting tomorrow… They will be scandalized when they see that hickey, my love…”

“We both know they will not say a word about it,” he chuckled. “Just as it happened last month, remember?”

“I forget what a clever strategist you are. Yes, I remember, Master Finulv was speechless, Balin pretended not to notice anything, and you could barely keep awake during that council meeting. That high collar doublet suited you very well, by the way,” she admitted, helping herself to the buttons of his tunic.

“It was my attempt at covering the proof of my wife’s fiery temperament,” he smirked, observing Anila’s nimble fingers at work. “I do not think I was successful. Master Bragi did not dare to lift his gaze from his notes even once.”

His wife’s only response was a chuckle just before she covered his lips with hers.

Among the kisses and caresses generously bestowed upon each other, among their whispers and sighs, they eagerly shed most of their clothes. Thorin gave out a satisfied hum, admiring Anila’s sun-speckled skin, the alluring curves of her body glowing as if imbued with the light of thousands of Ereborean diamonds. He was certain there were words that could describe this vision of ethereal beauty before him, but he could not find any. 

“My king seems to be lost in thoughts,” he heard her say playfully. “Allow me to help you.”

Anila lowered herself in front of him and her hands started roaming his body, releasing him from his trousers. Her kisses burning a bold path on his lower abdomen, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off her; of her nimble fingers wrapping around his already hardened manhood; of her hair like silk between his fingers, of her lovely lips that closed over his tip, of her sultry gaze, of the soft heat he was delving into, of her palm that…

“Anila… Mahal…” His wife knew him so well and she knew exactly what would please him, but today was not about him. “Allow me to take care of you first.”

“I was under the impression that you were in the mood for dessert,” she looked up at him innocently, licking her lips. Vixen. Merciless vixen. And he wanted more of her.

“Oh yes, I do,” he smiled, moving towards her.

“A dessert…” she gave out a chuckle when his lips greedily closed over her nipple, lavishing it with attention. Between the gentle nibbles and soft kisses scattered over her rosy peaks, among her sighs and his praising murmurs, his hands painted devout patterns along her body, in an act of physical worship. Thorin did not wish to stop; he craved to cover all off her body with his kisses, to bedeck it with his caresses, to offer his queen endless ecstasy. He wanted to offer her as much pleasure as he could and revel in her rapture. Soon she was stretched beneath him, pleading for more, her fingers entangled with his hair as his tongue drew spirals around her navel, his lips covered the softness of her lower belly, his hands caressed the roundness of her hips.

When his kisses finally moved to her thighs, and his hot breath skimmed the mound between them, Anila whispered, “Have mercy...”

“What do you wish for, my queen?” He lifted his gaze to her face, her eyes hooded with pleasure, her lips slightly parted, her breathing fast, her fingers playing with her nipple. What a beguiling view it was.

“I want you to please me, Thorin,” she whispered, parting her legs slightly. This was the only invitation he needed.

“Your word is my command,” he replied. Settling himself between her legs, he cupped her bottom, enjoying its round firmness. It fit perfectly in his large hands and he lifted her slightly. Anila moaned in delight when he eagerly buried his mouth between her thighs, his beard brushing against them. She writhed beneath him as he showered her most intimate places with kisses and caresses that brought her the most pleasure. His tongue explored the folds of her womanhood. The taste of her arousal made him even harder than before, made him dizzy with desire for her, but that had to wait. Now he was intent on pleasing her this way and so his lips found the most sensitive point on her body, tenderly tugging on the silky bud, and then started sucking on it. He heard her whimpers, her incoherent mewling spurring him on, and he continued his ministrations, pleasing his queen. 

He gripped her thighs firmly when his tongue sank rhythmically into her, evoking waves of elation, one after another, each of them stronger than the previous one. Thorin recognized the signs all too well, and he drove her further and further, among the heights of pleasure, bringing her closer towards the very peak of ecstasy with every caress. Purring into her flesh, he caressed her swollen nub with his thumb, feeling how she arched against him as waves of pleasure sent tremors of ecstasy through her body, and he relentlessly kept on taking her even higher until her blissful moans and praises echoed through the forest. He stopped only after Anila went completely limp beneath him, one of her hands letting go of the fistful of the blanket. 

Thorin moved up towards her, pressing his lips to her shoulder, and then brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Her eyes were shut, her face flushed, her long eyelashes casting small shadows on her cheeks, beads of sweat covering her forehead. His caress caused a small smile to bloom on her lips, but her eyelids remained closed.

“Is my queen pleased?”

“A little bit…” she muttered, smiling still. “But I wouldn’t mind a second… no, that would be a third course.”

“Insatiable woman,” he whispered teasingly, kissing her collarbone. His fingers busied themselves in lining out the shapes of her breasts and unhurriedly following the curves of her ribs. Then his tongue joined in, exploring new, exciting paths on her body, each of them punctuated by her moan. Mahal was a great architect indeed, creating such wonders as this woman beside him. Compared with the elegant lines of her body, he felt like a block of unhewn stone; and yet when she lay so close against him, it felt as if they were made from the same piece of rock. Perhaps the Creator put all of his energy into making Thorin’s life companion perfect and decided it was enough. In fact, she was more than he could ever hope for. Absent-mindedly, he took Anila’s hand into his and placed a tender kiss onto her wrist.

Anila gave out a content sigh and opened her eyes, oblivious to his thoughts.

“Insatiable? It is because you have spoiled me rotten,” she stated. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, coaxing him closer to her, and when she closed the distance between their lips, he hummed approvingly. A new fire woke in her and there was hunger in her kiss, the same hunger that had been wreaking havoc through his body since the moment he saw her alone in this place. Her hip brushed against his erect member and he let out a low growl-like moan. Patience was not one of his virtues.

Anila found his hand and placed it over her breasts.

“Make love to me, Thorin,” the words were simple, but the timbre of her voice brought a much deeper meaning with them. And the desire in her eyes met with tenderness in her gaze.

“My queen,” he murmured, offering her an affectionate kiss, the softness of her lips giving him a promise he was eager to see fulfilled.

His kisses were careful, measured, and yet thorough, each of them aiming at telling her things he was unable to say with words. One of his hands caressed her body, eliciting sweet little sighs from her, until it found the secret trail that led his fingers to the treasure she hid between her legs. The moans that filled his ears in response to his feather-light caresses sounded like music.

“Is this to your liking, my queen?” he asked while his fingers explored her boldly, dancing in circles around all her sensitive spots and enticing even more moans from her. This, combined with feeling how aroused she still was, caused his manhood to throb even more in anticipation. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself.

“You know it is very much to my liking,” she admitted, bestowing a smile upon him. “But I need more.”

Thorin could not stop himself any longer. Taking his manhood in his hand, he growled with arousal, feeling her wetness against him. Anila tilted her hips, offering herself to him and he cast her a satisfied look, devouring her with his gaze. It was not long before he pressed his tip to the heat of her core. An unhurried thrust of his hips brought him home, his torments rewarded at last. He lowered himself over her and repeated the movement, studying her face as she bit her teeth into her lower lip.

“Yes, Thorin, more,” she whispered, taking deep breaths. 

As he covered her body with his, Anila seemed so small under him, almost fragile, and yet she was perfect. He knew he needed to be gentle with her at first, and he did that gladly, anticipating the bliss that awaited them both. He could feel how snug she was around him, how an occasional tremble of pleasure came from deep within her as he carefully moved another inch forward.

As her body accommodated to his hardness, he gave another slow thrust, filling her completely. Her breath hitched and she welcomed him with a small cry of pleasure.

“My lovely, lovely Anila,” Thorin whispered, unmoving, his lips brushing against her forehead, his thumb running across her cheek. He knew his size was a challenge for her, but every single time she took him in with passionate eagerness that multiplied his arousal. “We fit so well together, do we not?”

“We do,” her melodic, dreamy voice reached him, her breath wafting against his sensitive earlobe. “I don’t think I will be able to let you go.”

With these teasing words, she wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips slightly. That made him burrow himself even deeper into the dewy paradise of her womanhood.

“Then don’t,” he rasped out. “We can stay like this for as long as you like. Only say a word, my queen.”

“Then take all the time in the world with me,” she decided.

And so he did. With his movements slow and measured, his eyes remained on her face, revelling in the growing signs of ecstasy he noticed. Anila, his wife, his queen, deserved all he could give her—and more. Her first (or rather third) peak of ecstasy came soon, just after he changed the pace, murmuring seductive promises into her ear. Her lengthy moan rang out in the air as her body trembled with ecstasy. It took all of his resolve not to follow her over the edge at that very moment, but Thorin denied himself that pleasure. He was not finished with her, there was more he wanted to give. He paused, cradling her face in his hands, placing a tender kiss on her burning hot lips, waiting for her to recover, but Anila’s affectionate gaze once again rested on him as she asked for more.

Soon he found himself finding the perfect rhythm, sinking inside her for what seemed forever. As he drowned in Anila’s eyes, their moans intertwined, celebrating the union of their bodies. They were drifting away together on the sea of their shared passion. Every thrust was a promise of endless joy Thorin would offer her, every caress was imbued with his adoration, echoed by his whispers until they came together as one. She clung to him, responding to his every move, her nails sinking in his back, driving him forward, demanding more, and he gave it to her in a series of rapid thrusts, the waves of their bliss growing higher to finally wash over them in pure rapture.

***

“Happy birthday, sweet Anila,” he murmured as he rolled on his back, his arm wrapped around her, but she only hummed something incoherent in response and cuddled up closer to him under the clear blue sky above.

They remained in a sweet, languid embrace for an eternity—or perhaps minutes—Anila’s head resting on Thorin’s chest, her arm limp across his stomach, her hair scattered across his body, his nose full of her flowery scent. Their breaths evened out and the only sounds around them came from the birds in the trees and he found himself drifting off to sleep.

“Thorin…” Anila breathed into his skin after a longer while. 

“Hmmm?” He opened one eye reluctantly.

“You are as wild as these berries,” she pointed towards the forgotten fruits, now scattered among the grass.

“Am I?” He hummed into her hair.

“I think I will have to personally thank King Thranduil for your fervour,” she replied with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare, wife… unless you’d like to be spanked,” Thorin protested.

She chuckled and he felt her hand travelling down his abdomen, “Is that a promise, my king?”

“Insatiable woman,” he managed to say before her lips stopped him from talking for a very long time. For perhaps all the time in the world.

💙 Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it! 💙

📜 Searching for more stories to read? Check out my masterlist!📜

Do you like my writing? Would you like to read more? Feel free to show your support by having a Ko-fi with me! Thank you 💚

General taglist: @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings​ @dark-angel-is-back @sherala007 @amelia307 @anyaspidergirl-blog @jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo @mrsdurin @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry  @dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n @lilith15000 @kami-chan1512  @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel @myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @elliepie1226 @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne @fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff  @medusas-hairband @xxbyimm @knittastically @saucyminxbrainspill @quiall321 @frosticenow @glassgulls @evenstaredits @sotwk @theblackdeath87 @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the list. If your name is crossed out, it means that Tumblr doesn't allow me to tag you any longer.

[madamebaggio]

Notes: I was really - really - not supposed to be doing this today, but we just watched The Hobbit and I couldn't resist.

I hope you don't mind.

previously...

***

Chapter 27

Someday in August, somewhere in Mirkwood

Bluebell didn't know how many days had passed. Sometimes it felt like ages, sometimes it felt like no time at all.

Gandalf abandoned them at the entrance of the woods - that she could remember. It should've been a sign for them to stay away.

They lost the path somehow, somewhere along the way. Bluebell didn't remember if it happened before or after Bombur fell into the stream. They weren't supposed to touch the water - for some reason - but they were thirsty and tired and so - so - lost.

There wasn't any food left. They could barely sleep. They were walking in circles.

Sometimes she didn't even remember who those dwarves were. She'd thought one of them was a stranger invading her house… Only to remember she wasn't at home.

She didn't know if she'd ever be again.

There were fights, paranoia, fear… So much confusion. Bluebell sometimes couldn't even remember the name of those around her. She'd grab Thorin's hand because she was scared of losing him in the woods and never seeing him again.

It felt like torture.

Until someone - Óin, that was his name - said something about the sun…

"Sun. We have to find the sun." She looked up towards the top of the trees. "Up there."

Climbing up the tree felt harder than it ever had before, but with every inch she gained, made her breathe easier.

Until she broke free, and it felt like she was breathing for the first time ever, seeing the sun for the first time in a millenia.

Then the spiders appeared.

***

Thorin couldn't find Bluebell.

As the elves rounded them up and took their weapons, his eyes kept moving around, but she wasn't there.

"Where is the Burglar?" He asked his dwarves in Khuzdul, not daring to say her name in front of the elves.

The Company started looking around, searching for her.

"What do you conceal by speaking your tongue, dwarf?" The elfling who had taken his sword demanded.

"The business of dwarves is not the business of elves." He growled at him.

"In this forest, elves decide what is their business." He looked at Thorin carefully. "Are you looking for another one of you? Perhaps we missed another dwarf?"

Thorin pressed his lips together, refusing to answer and to take the bait.

The elfling turned to someone else. "Keep your eyes open. There might be another one of them out there."

That meant they hadn't found Bluebell. Surely they'd have mentioned if they'd seen a female in the forest, especially one as small as Bluebell, who was clearly not a dwarf.

"Let us move." A she-elf spoke up, and Thorin felt panic sizing up his chest.

They couldn't leave Bluebell alone in those woods. She'd never survive alone, not with those spiders running around.

When one of the guards tried to push him, Thorin struggled. He would not leave Bluebell there alone! Another elf came to help him and they were screaming orders at each other and screaming at him, but he did not care. He was not going anywhere until he….

"I am here." Her sweet voice called from somewhere really close, like she was standing right next to him. "Trust me. I will follow you."

"Givashel?" He called softly, even as he stopped struggling.

"Yes." Her voice whispered back. "You cannot see me, but I am here. Just go with them."

"Thorin?" Balin called, concerned.

"Let us go." He finally said to the others.

The elf who was clearly in command there gave him a look full of suspicion, but Thorin didn't care. He couldn't see her, but somehow he knew Bluebell was there.

He just hoped this wasn't a whisper of madness.

***

Bluebell should've expected Thorin to make a mess out of things, but she really hadn't expected him to be that antagonistic against the Elven King - Thranduil.

Yes, he hadn't been the most pleasant of fellows, but they were short on time, and they had no hope to get out of there without his permission.

Trust Thorin to choose stubbornness and pride over an easy way out.

And she wasn't judging him - much - over it, since she did understand the reason behind Thorin's resentment. Balin had told her about the elves' part - or better yet, lack of action - the day Smaug had attacked the mountain.

Thranduil could've helped, but he chose not to. For his own reasons - clearly - but dwarves weren't the type to forgive and forget.

She waited in silence, pressed against a corner until the elves had left, clearly not believing the dwarves could escape on their own.

She'd been invisible for almost a whole day, and she was dreadfully tired, but she still needed to find the dwarves.

Once it was all quiet, she made her way to Thorin's cell. After making sure there was no one around, she pulled her ring out.

"Thorin."

He turned to her immediately, sweet relief taking over his features. "Bluebell." It sounded like he'd been holding his breath this whole time and now could breathe in peace again. "You are here." He hurried closer to the bars, and grabbed her hands. "I feared I had gone mad when I heard your voice in the woods. You are here, my love."

He pressed his forehead against the bars and she did the same, so they could be closer. "I was afraid you would fight capture thinking I was lost. I had to let you know I was fine."

His chuckle was pained. "You know me so well, givashel."

"I do."

"Are you hurt?" He needed to know. She shook her head. "Are you?"

"No. How did you evade capture?" He wanted to know.

"I found something in the goblin's tunnels." She told him, her hands holding his firmly through the bars. "A magic ring. It makes me disappear."

Thorin pulled away so he could look at her properly. "A magic ring?" He frowned.

"Gandalf said it is fine. At least, I am not behind bars." She gave him a flat look. "Unlike a dwarf that I know."

"I would not make a deal with that elf." He hissed.

"Really?" She snapped back. "And how do you propose we get out of here now?"

"You asked me to trust you, Bluebell. And I do." He used his hand to cup her face. "You will find a way out for us."

"Me?" Her eyes became round. "How?"

"You can watch them and learn." He told her confidently. "Find a weakness in their guard."

"Oh my goodness, Thorin Oakenshied." She took a deep breath in. "It might take some time."

"We do not have a lot of it." He sighed. "You are very tired. We have not eaten in…" He shook his head. "I do not even know how long we have been in this place." This time he used both hands to cup her face and look into her eyes. "Your face has thinned." He caressed her cheekbone. "They have brought us food. I will share mine with you."”

"No." She denied immediately. "I will find the kitchen and I will feed myself. Save your food. You will also need your energy."

He nodded. "Find some place to rest. Try to find the date and a way out. But, Burglar."

The corner of her mouth tipped up. "Yes?"

"Come find me every day." He ordered, even as his eyes pleaded with her. "Report to your King." He once again rested his forehead against hers. "This is an order."

Her chuckle felt a bit watery, but she closed her eyes. "I will do that, Thorin Oakenshield. I love you." She whispered reverently. "I love you more, givashel."

[yaboyguzma69]

Help me find a fic pls!!

Hi, I'm looking for a specific x reader fic about Thorin Oakenshield. I read it years ago, so some of the details are pretty foggy and I don't remember what website I was on - it may have been either fanfiction.com or ao3, but I don't remember. The writing was wonderful and the story, well-paced. I remember that I absolutely loved it, so much so, that several scenes are permanently burned into my mind. In any case, here's what I remember about it:

It had several chapters, two or three spicy scenes and at the end, the reader has Thorin's child. There are specific things about it, like Thorin has to find his "one" before a certain time or (consequences I don't remember?), and he has to call the reader something in Khuzdul like "Arukhel" or something like that.

Anyway, the reader is a human, and she is on the run away from her family to escape an arranged marriage or something, so she joins Oakenshield's 13 for a while on their journey and Thorin is being all mean about it until he catches feelings. Her arranged marriage betrothed is a grade-A d-bag prince of somewhere and is mean and abusive. At some point in the story, he finds and kidnaps her and imprisons Thorin. There's a spicy scene during all that too.

The very last chapter covered Thorin's death like this: the reader has some pendant around her neck that was important in the story and when Thorin dies, she feels the pendant go cold. It then says something about her "not-so-tall, raven haired" son.

I'm hoping this is enough to go on and that someone can help me out. If you know this fic, please let me know. You have my eternal thanks!! <3

[eri-pl]

Silm reread 9: Meanwhile in Beleriand

I need to slow down the queue, I do less posts now. (Yes, I do queue for longer ones; usually post immediately the shorter / low-effort ones)

All the Elves in Beleriand consider Thingol their king. But Melian is not a ruling Queen. Thingol rules, Melian advises the Elves. Makes sense with her being a Maia.

Luthien is born late in first (Valian) century of Melkor's imprisonment, this is also said to be the peak of Valinor's happiness. I would assume Feanor is born short after this, but it's just a guess.

Later: Dwarvrs. Unclear when did they wake up, but they seem pretty new here, so maybe they awake not long after Melkor was imprisoned?

Khuzdul is hard for the Sinda, Sindarin is easy fro the Dwarves. Later it's the same with Quenya. Either:

Sindarin is very easy

Sindar are bad with languages

both Dwarves and the Noldor are great at languages (which makes sense because they are close to Aule and I think it helps)

Elves and Dwarves live in peace, they're friends with Thingol, all is nice. Melian has a foreshadowing foresight that it will stop being nice soon. The Dwarves (very happily and paid more than they asked for) make Menegroth for Thingol. It is entered via a bridge (no Orodreth do not copy this) and is cool.

The Dwarves hate the sea (probably something left from earlier Legendarium when Dwarves were evil). Gimli must have been very brave.

The Dwarves tell thingol that the Valar hadn't fully removed the evil on the North. How do they know this? Also, it reminds me about how the Valar were supposed to do this actually and did not.

Also, if anyone can help me with this (I may later make a separate posr): they mention "two monsters appearing again in the land east of the mountains". It's about Ered Luin. But what are the two beasts??? Not Ungoliant, as she is elsewhere. Maybe Sauron? I'm not sure if he spent all the time in Angband. But with whom? Thuringwedhil? Is she this old?

Or maybe it's just an error in translation. "Two" and "wild" aren't that different words and it would make sense to be wild beasts…

Also, orcs appear.

Thingol makes weapons and chain armor. Also, Denethor (the original one) is a thing.

Daeron was a scholar?!? The most famous scholar in Doriath. And he made the runes.

Ungoliant goes to Doriath, is blocked by Melian, lives in caves and messes up the whole part of map. Still, not clear who ever saw her if anyone.

A sentence about orcs breeding in deep earth, so again, the origin of orcs and quantum canon. they besiege Cirdan. Melian makes the Girdle.

After the Darkening Melian gets no news from Valinor via messengers, dreams nor spirits. Which nicely gives us the list of how she used to get news before, I think.