#Also WHERE WAS THORINS SKY BLUE HOOD???

[kirenia15]

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Company *One-shot*

Summary: Gandalf brings an unexpected party to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. A mage, a human, and a woman, a fact that not everyone in the company is glad about. 

Warnings: none, I guess. Just some fluff.

Words: 2,170

Disclaimer: only my character is my own, credits to the amazing Tolkien and to the owner of the gif.

*A reminder that English is not my native language.* 

[Kili x OC]

“Here, Mr. Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?” Dori asked, although he was barely audible through the cold storm they were riding in.

Every crack and crevice that exists was soaked to the bone. Droplets stick on her eyelashes and lips, dripping from her forehead and around the curves of her temple. Her hooded cloak helped for a while, until the rain started to come so heavily that nothing could stop it from reaching her skin.

Riding behind Dwalin and Gandalf, Kirenia has watched them become as soaked and as miserable as she was.

“It is raining, Master dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.” Gandalf responded.

“Are there any?”

“What?”

“Other Wizards?” Bilbo questioned, a few meters behind her.

“There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. And then there are the two Blue Wizards... You know, I've quite forgotten their names.”

“And the fifth?”

“That would be Radagast the Brown.”

“Oh, I just recalled him! He is a genuinely nice fellow.” Kirenia intervened.

“Is he a great wizard, or is he more like you?”

Kirenia’s bottom jaw dropped open slightly, turning to stare wide-eyed at the hobbit. Gandalf gave Bilbo the side-eye, readjusting his seat and holding any commentary on the insult.

“I think he is a very great Wizard, in his own way”, he answered with candour. “He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals for others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too.”

“What about Kirenia?”. This time Nori joined the conversation.

“What about myself? I am not a Wizard but a mage.”

“Well…what’s the difference, then?”

The mage and Gandalf shared a knowingly look, and she sighed before turning to face the curious dwarf.

“She has greater power than meets the eye… more than she even knows herself.” Gandalf interrupted. “And I fear the occasion for her to show us will present itself soon enough.”

Nori and Kirenia shared a look, the dwarf bearing an amazed expression. It seemed his curiosity was calmed for the time being. The mage, on the contrary, was beaming with pride at his dear friend’s words. But she also lacked confident in herself and was afraid to disappoint him terribly. In truth, not only Gandalf, but the whole company expected some worthy actions from her. After all, she had just tagged along, totally uninvited. She became silent until they all reached a place to spend the night, lost in her own thoughts.

Thankfully, the rain had stopped. The only annoyance now was the icy wind slapping her face. She brought her hands to her mouth trying to warm them in vain. Kirenia was shivering and the only thought that occupied her mind was to build the fire and seat as close to it as possible. Thorin started giving out orders and soon camp was set, and everyone had a task to complete. Kirenia went along with Bofur to collect more firewood, an impossibly difficult task, given that the forest around them was still humid and wet. A slight fog had descended upon them and the air became misty. She could feel the damp cold seeping through her cloak as they returned to camp.

“Are you alright?” Your nose is very red, and your lips are turning blue”. Fili asked her when she saw her seating beside the fire. She emitted a grunt in response and held a finger to touch his temple, whose contact made him jump back, startled.

“Mahal, you are freezing”.

“I will be fine”, she uttered.

Kili closed the gap between them and sat beside Kirenia, offering her his fur-lined coat, which she stubbornly refused.

“Will you just take it? You are shivering so hard it’s making my teeth rattle”.

He gently put his coat over Kirenia’s shoulders, making sure to tug her well in it. The inside still held Kili’s warmth and it was pleasantly dry. The mage nodded in acknowledgment and muttered a “thank you” to the inside of the coat. Only her face from the nose upwards was visible now. It would be a comical sight if it weren’t for the poor state she was in, sniffling from time to time and still shaking. The brothers stared at her, a worried expression crossing their faces.

When Bombur had finished preparing the night’s dinner, Kili sauntered over her with a steamy bowl in each hand. She eyed the content with little appetite and only took the bowl to warm her hands. The princes, sitting on each side of her, did not cease in their intents to make her eat. Finally, Fili took the untouched bowl off her hands, frowning as he deposited it next to Bombur. When he came back, he started chiding the woman about keeping her strength and it being a waste, but Kirenia barely heard any words. Her lips and throat were dry, her sight out of focus and she was still shivering, even though her skin burnt. Fili reached a hand to touch her forehead.

“She is burning up”, he exclaimed in Oin’s direction. Kili, as well as all the others, fixed their gaze on the mage, who was pale and sneezing repeatedly.

“Kirenia, why didn’t you speak up before?”. Fili chided.

“We need to stop her fever”. Oin sat in front of her, his medical supplies in hand. “Kili, be a good lad and fetch me some cool water”.

The prince nearly stumbled in his effort to do as he was told as quickly as possible, a worried look not leaving his face.

“Strip her”. Thorin’s voice boomed over to the small group gathered around the woman.

“Uncle!”

“Her clothes must be damp; she needs to dry first. That’s probably the reason she came down with the fever”.

“Yes, b-but…” Fili trailed off, gazing at the figure huddled in his arms.

“Do you want her to improve or not? Use your coats to cover her up”. Thorin snapped.

“He is right, lad.” Oin gave him a knowingly look.

[OC’s POV]

Several hours have passed since the dreadful rain stopped. The company had found a relatively dry flatland to set up camp for the night and you had done your best to keep up and complete your tasks. But by the time dinner was ready, you were huddled up in Kili’s large coat beside the fire, just shivering and feeling worse at each passing minute. You felt your nose running, your feet were still damp and cold, as was your hair and every inch of your skin. When the brunette prince offered you a bowl to fill your belly you almost refused it right away, but then you thought it would at least warm your hands. However, you couldn’t force yourself to eat, having lost all appetite and your only wish being to lay down and forget all about this awful day.

You heard voices around you but couldn’t make out the meaning of the words. You felt light-headed and a tiredness overcame you without you realizing it. Only when some hands started touching your body, taking off your boots and unlacing your leather corset you snapped out of your dizzy state.

You focused your sight and saw Fili and Oin looming over you, the first with an embarrassed expression you had never seen before, the latter with a stoic look and confident movements setting a blanket over the bottom part of your body.  

“Wait…” you mumbled. Fili’s hands stopped right where they were, around the collar of your blouse.  “I can do it myself.”

He cleared his throat, and a relieved sigh escaped his lips.

“Y-Yes, sure, I will cover you up with my coat, lass.”

After a tortuous while when you felt like every muscle in your body complaint, you laid down on the bedroll that someone had gently extended by the fire and buried yourself in a pile of blankets and coats with nothing on but your undergarments. At least they would dry quick enough so you wouldn’t have to take them off too. The whole situation was embarrassing enough as it was. Kili, perched by your side, spent his watch delicately rubbing a wet cloth over your sweating face whilst you drifted off into a restless slumber.

[Third person’s POV]

Kili and Bofur were both on watch duty during the first couple of hours, but the brunette prince didn’t mind it one bit. Not this time. He didn’t leave Kirenia’s side the whole time, gently stroking her hair and just looking at her evenly breath. It pained him to see her frown burrowed even though she was finally asleep, knowing that the mage would spend a rough night. Kili took one of her tiny hands in his callous ones, feeling her temperature was returning to normal and her fever coming down. He felt a hole in the back of his head as Bofur’s gaze was fixed in him but didn’t mind the teasing he would have to endure from his companions. His mind was occupied with only one thought: Kirenia was sick and he was there to comfort her.

The young woman stirred in her sleep, emitting a soft moan. Kili dropped her hand abruptly, not wanting to wake her. His coat slid off one of her shoulders, leaving her bare skin in plain sight. By the firelight, it glowed and looked more beautiful than ever despite her scars, he thought to himself. But as much as he wanted to caress her skin, he forced himself to re-adjust the numerous coats and blankets covering her, tucking Kirenia in again.

[OC’s POV]

Morning came along with the cheery chirping of birds and a nice, blue sky above their heads. Kirenia stirred in her bedroll and turned to see a certain raven-haired sleeping prince facing her. She felt a sudden urge to reach a hand and brush his fringe off his eyes but couldn’t bring herself to move. She just stared at the prince, feeling grateful to have met him and his brother. Sometimes she thought that they were the only ones in the company who actually tolerated her (apart from Gandalf, that is). A deep sigh escaped her lips and her head turned in the opposite direction when the sound of rustling and thumps reached her ears. Thorin was approaching, a stern look on his face. He was the only one awake at the moment and the woman debated between facing him now or pretend to sleep. Either way, she would have to face the king’s chiding and anger sooner or later.

Kirenia sat up straight in her bedroll, catching Thorin’s eye. She tried to keep covered with his nephew’s coat, realizing her state of undress. The dwarf king retraced his steps and sauntered over the mage, his serious gesture not letting away any emotions.

“Good morning, Thorin”

“How are you feeling?”, the dwarf cur her off.

“I am much better, thank you.” She bowed her head sightly, feeling nervous. She didn’t know what to expect from him. Surely, he would be fuming because she had made a nuisance of herself. The very same thing she promised wouldn’t happen, yet she’s been the first to fall sick during the journey.

“Is your fever gone?”

“Yes, I believe it is.”. She rested her hand on her forehead for a moment, assessing her state of health. Luckily, all she felt now was hunger.

“Good. Get dressed and eat something, we will leave soon.”

She stared at the king, who strode off to the other side of camp to waken Dwalin and Balin, then the other members of the company.

Through the camp groans and yawns could be heard and everyone started to rouse. Kili’s eyes fluttered open and saw Kirenia already awake, her cheeks rose and her eyes limpid. He let go a sigh of relief and patted her arm gently.

“How is our sleeping beauty feeling today?”

She turned to him, a serious look on her face.

“Kili, I… I just want to say I am sorry for the trouble I caused last night.” She looked at him with an apologetic smile planted in her lips and brows furrowed.

“What are you talking about? Do not be silly.”

“And thank you for lending me your coat.” She rose up, still enveloped in the large coat, and gathered her own clothes that were laid down beside the now extinguished fire. “I am just going to get dressed and give it back to you.”

“You know, I am rather cold.” Kili pretended to shiver and glanced at Kirenia coyly. “You should give it to me now.”

She stared at him for a moment, then started to take it off very slowly.

“Very well.”

The prince blushed, not catching her playful tone and bluff. The mage just laughed at his stunned expression and turned on her heels, marching towards a more private space behind the bushes.

[mirach]

For the ask meme :) 3 and 6? <3

Thank you for asking! <3

3. Which of your fics was most different from what you usually write?

Since what I usually write is hurt/comfort focused on Aziraphale, I'd say the most different fic is "Christmas Roses", published in the Antichristmas zine (I'll be allowed to post it to AO3 on December 24th), which is a nsfw story with some Nanny/Gardener roleplay. Speaking about roleplaying, I just have to mention A Special Place in Hell because it was also most different, but by the method of writing, since no other of my stories this year was written that way and it was really fun.

6. What’s your favourite piece of dialogue you wrote this year?

From The Lord of the Wings, or To the World and Back Again where Aziraphale is a Hobbit and Crowley a dragon:

"Well, to tell the truth, I'm on a quest to help Thorin and his company to reclaim their home."

"Thorin? Who's Thorin?"

"Uhm… a dwarf? Thorin Oakenshield. Long, white beard, usually wears sky-blue hood with a silver tassel, plays the harp rather nicely…"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"Indeed not. He knocks like he would want to tear down your door… ah. You mean… Well, he's the grandson of Thrór. You know, the one who used to be a king here? Before you took the place from him? Why the hell did you do that, Crowley?"

And from my latest story Papercut:

"Would you prefer not knowing that I'm hurt or in trouble?"

Aziraphale bit his lip. "No. But that's you. When it's just me…"

Crowley gritted his teeth, a hint of fury seeping into his serpentine eyes. It was directed at Heaven, though, not on Aziraphale. "Just you?" he repeated. "Just? Aziraphale, you're the only person in the world that matters to me. Everything else is just something. But not you. Never you."

[legolaslovely]

@crazytxgradstudent​  My dude. My dreams have revolved around Richard Armitage from the moment I first saw him.

Like okay 1. Eyes. Eyes so gotdam blue that put every Disney prince to shame. The sky is in those eyes. And the crinklies when he smiles! I just! I cannot! Can we just take a moment to imagine those eyes boring into yours when he’s on top of you, forehead to forehead? And you’ll whine and writhe and he’ll just laugh at you because look at this power he has over you right now, you are at his mercy, and BAM crinkly eyes.

2. This man’s lips and nose and jaw and his entire face can go wherever the hell it wants okay? PREFERABLY WITH SCRUFF Who in this world and the next doesn’t want to wake up next to that face? You could just kiss every single millimeter of his face and be happy about it. And you know where that face is going the second he gets you into bed. Like those lips know what to do which brings me to 

3. He is at a delicious age. FINE. WINE. Okay? Like give me a little bit of grey and a whole lot of confidence. He knows where he is and who he is and he knows just what to do with every single part of his body to please you. Now, I’m not saying he’s probably been with a hundred women, I am just saying he has experience, as any older man that gorgeous would. He could play you like a fucking harpsichord okay? He pays attention to every little noise, every little wiggle and he remembers until he can make you come in two minutes flat. But he never does, he makes it last and last and edging is definitely involved at least once but it’s okay because you know how to get your revenge.

4. *sighs so deeply* How can I not go into the voice? Like do we all know that video of him reading that dirty book? If not, just go watch BBC Robin Hood. Like  fda;jk kxDvSDckjSDK also Thorin can do some amazing things to the ears and by extension other places. Just imagine him telling you what to do. Telling you which article of clothing he wants you to take off first, how to jerk him off just right, telling you when and when not to come. You know he’s gonna bring you to a party and whisper dirty things in your ear until you just have to drag him out to the cab or into the bathroom and get down and dirty and do every single thing he whispered to you about. Also, low moans. I’m just gonna leave that here.

So, no, my friend, my dude, I have not forgotten about our dear Rich. Thank you for bringing him to my mind and talking to me. Also, no shame EVER!

[centuryofdean]

When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 3

Author Disclaimer:: The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue–also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line.

Summary:: From when Laurel Took was small she dreamed of a man. Every time she dreamed of him, he could not see or hear her. Over time they are able to communicate–but he’s been dreaming about her too. Finally after years of anticipation Laurel takes the leap and kisses him. Only for her to wake up and dread the real world. Then lightning strikes and she finds herself in a familiar place, with a familiar face.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+ At this point in the story there isn’t much, but later on the M rating will come into effect.

Warnings:: Language and Violence

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Kili

"Wake up Kili, it is time to leave The Shire."

No matter how hard I tried to hold onto the dream, sleep would not find me and bless my wish. Fili sat at the edge of the couch we were sharing for the night, pressing into my legs to wake me.

Laurel.

As always her face was a blur but the ache in my chest that went to sleep with me awoke with me; this time with vigor. It was surprising I woke this time with a smirk.

She actually kissed me.

The memory was still fresh in my mind, almost as if I could still feel her soft sweet lips upon mine. Sometimes I wondered if it were only just dreams. She speaks of how I am merely just an imagination, and everything I do and say is her wishes. If it were truly that way, which we are creating an image of each other, who is to say that she is not just an imagination of my mind? That would simply be unfair. If it were my choice, I would have not had her run from me. We would have been embracing and sharing kisses much sooner.

Not on the last dream I would ever share with her.

"What of Bilbo," Fili asked, grabbing his weapons and rising to leave. I followed his lead, placing two daggers in my belt and boot and grabbing my arrows and bow.

"All we can do is leave the contract. If he wishes to accompany us, he will find us," Thorin replied.

Together the lot of us rose and left the hobbit's home and quietly as we could. It was not my first time meeting a hobbit, though after I met Bilbo, the similarities between him and Laurel were strong. The greed I felt to see her again was almost stronger of that of the need of this quest.

Just outside The Shire we met a farmer with ponies for hire. Gandalf took lead on his stead and we were off on our quest.

Fili rode in the last of the line of ponies with me. Out of the thirteen dwarves, Fili and I were the youngest. For most of our lives we were raised by Mother, father had passed in battle with Orcs. Uncle Thorin was around for much of our childhood. We were told of the tales of our people and how our home was stolen from us by the fire drake Smaug.

It was only a few months ago that he approached my brother and myself, declaring that he, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, was going to take back the Lonely Mountain. We promised Mother we would return as princes of Erebor and bring her home.

"Did you see her in your sleep again Brother," Fili asked softly.

For twenty years, I dreamed of Laurel. I do not know how old she was when I started dreaming of her, but she was very small. Most the dreams I had were of her, doing something ordinary such as chasing butterflies and sliding down snow covered hills on a piece of colored wood of sorts. I watched as she attended a ceremony were all the humans cried and spoke of a man.

Each of these dreams she was unable to see or hear me. It was as if I were invisible.

There were dreams where Laurel was barely clothed, only small pieces covering her. These dreams I had to focus my attention on other things. It was not until she was matured into a woman that I encountered her in a dream, where she could see me and speak to me.

I was amused that she was hunting a deer to feast upon.

From that one encounter, we discovered that each of us dreamed of the other. This encounter led to similar dreams of no talking, but after a while we were able to speak again.

These times in dreams where I could talk to her, understand her and where she comes from, were some of my favorite times. The world that she lived in was one very different than Middle Earth. Each of us had our own questions, very confused of one another.

Over time I came to care for the russet haired maiden. Often times in my dreams I allowed myself the pleasure of braiding her locks and caressing her skin. When I looked into her pine colored eyes, it was if I were already home.

"Yes, I dreamed very fondly of her," I murmured, "though I am afraid it may be the last."

A chuckle came from my brother, "It may not. This journey will be long and eventually you will see her again. I am afraid that I am jealous of your maiden that does not exist."

"Laurel is a true beauty indeed," I murmured dejectedly, trying to hold onto the last traces of her face that floated in my mind.

"Why do you sound upset," Fili asked earnestly.

"I think she is a Hobbit," I muttered.

This brought a hearty chuckle from the blonde warrior.

Bilbo found his way to us, joining the company and continuing on our journey. Once given a pony, the poor fellow already tried to turn back around for a hanky. To say in the least this burglar was not much of an assistance to the quest. He spoke often about how he missed his Hobbit hole and the warm food he often ate on a regular basis. If anything he was more of a bother with his consistent complaining.

All of it made me more irritable due to the lack of sleep that uncle kept us on. Most of the time we were lucky to sleep for a few hours, he wanted to get to the mountain as soon as possible. Though I fully agreed, I wanted to sleep and try to see Laurel once more.

After seven days of travel with no real rest, the company set Thorin straight. Came nightfall the lot of us were camped out with a fire, a nice warm meal, and promised a full nights worth of sleep.

"Kili," uncle approached me, "take first watch. In a few hours we will have Fili switch with you so that you can rest as well."

"Yes uncle. I will wake the company if I hear or see of anything suspicious."

The hill that we found had a pleasant flat bottom to the south that we placed camp in. It also provided for a great vantage point to see from all angles anything that would try to sneak up on us.

I used the time of peace to reflect on the last time I slept and saw her. The ache in my chest returned at the thought, the last I can remember of her face is her pine eyes, everything else blurred into her silhouette. She was so scared of… me. If it were really only just a dream, she was not real, then why would I dream of her fear? I would dream of her desire for me! The fact itself was even more frustrating than Bilbo's complaining. There has to be more than just a coincidence that I dream of the same woman all these years.

The more I concentrated on trying to envision her face, the sleepier I became. Shortly I felt the drags of tiredness pull me into a soft sleep.

Covered in odd greens and blues, she was walking across sand. The green clothing she wore covered her head and hair. Blue waves crashed against the shore, water tickling her boot covered feet. This was one of the few times she was actually wearing boots.

I even felt the cold of winter's chill.

Happiness filled me, I had gotten my wish to see her again. It was not as exciting to know that this was not a time of meeting, but I could gaze upon her once more.

When she strode forward, I followed. Not much of anything was happening, it seemed that the walking continued on forever. Suddenly it started to rain. As if I were there, I could feel the cold pelting drops. It did not take long for them to become heavier and more furious. When the quake of thunder exploded around her she turned and started to walk the way she had come.

The water just on the other side of her lit up with the lightning of the sky. Laurel started to run.

I myself was running just so that I would not lose her. The sight of her face was already swallowed by the rain.

Lightning struck, blindingly, just in front of her. Fear grasped my heart.

"Laurel!" My voice was horse and booming, but fell upon deaf ears, almost deaf to my own if it weren't for the crack of thunder.

She turned to escape the danger, only to be pushed forward into it instead.

A loud crack of thunder awoken me with a gasp.

Laurel, she fell into electrifying lightning.

I looked up into the night sky instinctively to gaze at the storm here.

Something was falling through the air. Was it a bird? As it started to gain momentum the closer it got, I could see it was not a bird at all. It was something much larger. It was coming right for me actually.

With a start I jumped, reckless as I was, holding my arms out ready to catch the oddity.

The force of the drop and thing brought me to my knees, grunting at the impact. With all the gentleness I could bestow I rolled the object into the ground to inspect it.

A familiar ache burst through my chest as I saw a familiar woman. Wearing a worn green short tunic of various hues, and dark blue pants, she was soaked to the bone. Just as I pushed back the hood of her clothing, her russet hair tumbled out. The short breath was stuck in my throat.

Laurel?

"Fili," my voice bellowed across the valley.

My hands grasped her face, pulling her head into my lap. How could this be happening? Falling into lightning takes you to another world? Voices were vaguely heard coming up the hill. Was she even alive? I lowered my head to her mouth, listening for her breath. A faint inhale and exhale could be heard. Excitement started to bubble up within me.

"Kili, what is it," Fili asked kneeling down next to me.

A gasp left me, "She fell from the sky."

"She's soaked to the bone, we better find a dry space and start a fire for her to warm up," he whispered urgently. "Do you have her? I'll go start the fire."

Her weight was so light, I feared for her health as I carried her down the hill. Gandalf was persuading a fire to life under a cliff where the rain was not so heavy. With some of his powers he allowed a small bubble of clear air. I laid her gently against the ground, and then placed myself behind her with her head against my legs once more. Russet locks were soaked as well, causing me to run my fingers through them.

"Where did she come from," Gandalf asked.

"Quite literally out of the sky," I murmured. "I looked up and she was falling, right into my arms."

"We cannot let this halt our journey," Thorin muttered as he strode towards all the commotion.

A grunt of sorts escaped me. They would have to have a dragon breathe it's flames of death upon me before I will leave without her. "Uncle," I muttered, "we cannot just leave her in this condition. I will not leave her side."

Thorin crouched down to get a better look at her. Instinctively I wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Even if I did not want it to happen, there is always one being in this world that could stand between her and me, would be him.

"I know who she is," I muttered.

"If she is one of your whores—"

"Never," I growled, "she is of another world…"

Previous Chapter << Chapter 2: Waking Up

Next Chapter >> Chapter 4: Bigger Foes Bring Harder Woes

[branching-paths]

Of Strange Companions and Raging Rivers

(Thorin's POV)

        The company was acting weird, that's for certain. When I had woken up this morning, I was the last one up, when normally I was the first. Everything was taken care of. Ponies saddled, breakfast made and being eaten, the route was planned, and everyone was up, their things on the ponies. All in all, I was slightly proud of them. The only thing that made me worry, was that Fili, Kili, Myrin volunteered. As in, they took charge, told everyone what to do, and wouldn't let me do anything when I woke up. I glanced back at them, where they were riding their steeds, talking quietly right behind me. Something was up, again, and the way everyone else was smiling, it wouldn't end well for who ever it was for. I had a feeling it was me. I took a sip of my water again, hoping beyond hope that they wouldn't try to dump me into another mud pit. The last one, you couldn't even tell it was there from the road. Myrin burst into a fit of suppressed giggles, so I turned around, staring intently at her.

    "What's so funny," I inquired.     "Bilbo dumped pepper in your hood," She asked, still trying to suppress her giggles. I rolled my eyes as I nodded. Full out laughter from Myrin. Fili and Kili shared that evil look, then started to imitate my sneezing from a few weeks ago. That sent everyone into giggles. I turned back around, growling silently. I loved those three dearly, but at times like this, I wanted nothing more then to hang them from their toes. Someone quietly counted down behind me.     "Three, two one," Kili said, barely in a whisper. Two deep breaths, and a very off key song, sounded from my nephews.     "For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow," They shouted. I must say that I jumped. "FOR HE'S A JOLLY GOOD FELLLLLOOOOOOOW! THAAAAT NOBODY CAN DENY!!!" Next thing I know, I have them both on either side of me, strangling my chest and neck in what I think they meant to be hugs. Barely able to keep a straight face, I gently wrapped an arm around them both, and gave them a little squeeze also prying them off.     "What are you two trying to get away with," I asked when they sat back up. Kili gaped at me.     "Can't we just give our Uncle a hug for no reason," He asked. I looked at him, and he gave me his puppy eyes. That confirmed it, something was up.     "We're not doing anything Thorin," Fili promised. I turned my gaze to Fili. He shrugged and looked beyond me at Kili. Fili blinked at Kili, who gulped.     "By the way, did you two send that letter," I asked, remembering that very important letter. Kili nodded eagerly, but Fili shook his head.     "But we did get it to it's recipient," Fili said. I frowned at him.     "How can you not deliver a letter, yet have the person it's meant for receive it?" I stared at Fili, who was slowly shrinking. If they had opened it and read it's contents, I was dead. I turned to Kili.     "Did you send the letter or not," I asked him.     "Wetriedtobutthepostmaster-"     "Slow down, and speak properly!" Kili took another deep breath and started again, slowly.     "Weeeee....Trrrriiiii-"     "Talk normally! You sound like one of those tree people!" I could feel Fili's gaze on me, but I kept mine on Kili. He nodded and tried again.     "We attempted to send the letter, but because it didn't have a name on it, the post master would not even look twice at it." Yep, I'm dead.     "What did you do with it," I asked, trying to stay calm.     "We weren't sure what to do with it," Fili said.     "But figuring that Dwalin knew you best, we gave it to him," Kili finished. My mouth went dry, and my stomach churned as I stared in disbelief at the two idiots next to me. I hadn't't been lying when I said it was an important letter, but it was meant for Myrin! I poured my heart and soul into that letter, and they gave it to my best friend. I really, really hoped Dwalin hadn't't read it. Well, at least they didn't read it....     "No, I realized what that seal was, so I gave it to Myrin," Fili said. I wasn't sure which to believe, but I was going with Fili, because I entrusted him with the letter. My panic attack faded, only to return twice as hard when I realized that she had yet to read it. What's worse, she would probably read it when everyone was up still, and someone would read it over her shoulder. Then our relationship would be revealed and either Dwalin would kill us on the spot, or Fili and Kili would. The last thing I need is her getting hurt, not only would it break my heart, she was a pain in the neck when she couldn't do anything.     "You know, I think I should read this letter now," Myrin said loudly behind me. I whirled around, hoping she didn't mean what I thought it meant. In her hand, which she was waving around like a banner, was an envelope, and from what I could tell when she waved the front of it towards me, that was my letter. She couldn't be daft enough to read it in front of everyone, could she?! I swallowed my fear, and yes, this was a cold fear, and tried not to look too interested in the letter.     "Read what," I asked, sounding normal to my ears. Myrin smiled and tossed her head.     "Just a letter I received," She said. Crap, crap, crap, Crap, CRAP, CRRRRAAAPPP! She peeled the seal off, slow as death. She took a deep breath as she pulled the letter out.     "It reads, 'Dear Thorin,' " She began.     "I thought you said you got it," I interrupted. She rolled her eyes and cocked her head to the side.     "I got it, only if I promised to read to you," She yelled. She cleared her throat and began again.     "Dear Thorin, we the company, would like to wish you a very happy birthday. Because of our lack of supplies, coinage, and other such necessities to throw you a proper birthday, we have decided to say something positive about you."     "Hey, that isn't't what we agreed on," Gloin yelled. Myrin shrugged as she returned her gaze to the letter.     "That's what's wrote," She said.     "That's what I wrote," Ori said at the same time. All steely gazed turned from Myrin, to Ori.     "You don't have to if you don't want to," I announced. All the company's gaze turned to me.     "We can't throw you a good birthday on the road, and giving you a day off doesn't really count," Dwalin growled.     "Everyone deserves a proper birthday laddie," Balin added.     "The hobbit shall go first, then we will continue from youngest to eldest," Myrin finished. She folded up the letter, shoved it back in the envelope and shoved it into her satchel. I rubbed my face, glad for many reasons. Then one by one, and slowly, the company gave me compliments. Bilbo said that because he had known me for such a short time, he couldn't think of a proper compliment, but attempted to give one anyways. He said I was very lucky, and I have to agree with him. Then Kili said I was the best uncle ever. Fili argued that it was his compliment, and a brief brawl ensued. Myrin finished it when she said that it could be both of their's. Ori was next, then Nori, Dori, Bifur, Bombur, Bofur, Gloin, Oin, Dwalin, Balin, Gandalf and Myrin finished.     "Your poetry was excellent," She said. I frowned at her, then it dawned on me that she in fact had read the letter. I flashed her the biggest grin I could muster. Mostly because I could feel my face turning shades and I needed a good excuse.

(Kili's POV)

Rain, rain, go away come again another day! Ever since June 2nd, it had been raining. Everything was soaked, the food that was dry was stale, and the constant sound of raindrops dropping onto the ground, the pony's hide, my hood, was making me insane.     "Oh mister Gandalf, can't you do something to stop this deluge," Dori called from behind me. Gandalf turned around, irritably.     "It is raining, master Dwarf," He announced. "And it will continue to rain until the rain is done! If you wish to change the weather in the world, find yourself another wizard!" Bilbo looked up as much as he could without getting rain in his eyes.     "Are there any," Bilbo asked. Gandalf looked at the burglar.     "What," The aged wizard asked. I stifled a snort, and turned it into a sneeze. Myrin, who was riding next to Thorin, looked back and frowned.     "You will not, I repeat, NOT get a cold," She growled. I nodded and wiped my nose. She scowled a little more at me, then sat back in her saddle.     "Other wizards," Bilbo continued. Gandalf looked ahead and leaned back in his saddle.     "Yes there are five," He said. "There is Saruman the white, the head of our order. The blues.... You know I've quiet forgotten their names." His voice trailed off, so Bilbo got him back on track.     "And the fifth," The hobbit asked. Gandalf seemed to smile.     "That would be Radagast the brown." Bilbo frowned at his saddle horn, then looked back at Gandalf.     "Is he a great wizard.....Or is he more like you," He asked. I frowned at him. Gandalf is a great wizard! How dare he say that he wasn't. Then again, he didn't pull me out of my home and send me on what could be the first/last adventure of my life. Gandalf looked sideways at Bilbo, still facing ahead.     "Well I think he's a great wizard," Gandalf exclaimed, completely missing the insult, thankfully. We didn't need a roasted hobbit on our hands. "In his own way. He prefers the company of small animals over people. He watches the woods in the East, keeps an eye out for any rising danger..." Gandalf's voice trailed off again. Bilbo shook, flinging water droplets every which way. Then, all of the sudden, the rain stopped. Myrin looked up, her white waterproof hood fell off as she looked towards the sky.     "I'm going to scout while there's a break in the storm," She said. She clacked at Lakita, who promptly shook, showering Thorin, Fili, Bilbo and I with water. They flew into the sky and disappeared into the clouds. I wiped the water off my face and pulled my hood off.     "Put that back on Kili," Fili said, pulling my hood back up. I turned towards him, frowning, and pulled my hood back down. Dwalin rode behind me and pulled it back up. I glared at him as he rode up next to Thorin. I pulled it back down again.     "I'm not going to catch a cold," I growled at him. Dwalin snorted and readjusted his own hood.     "Yes you will," Fili said.     "Listen to him Kili," Thorin growled. I reluctantly pulled my hood up.     "It's wet anyways," I grumbled. Some of us didn't have waterproof cloaks like Thorin and Myrin.     "Better to have at least some protection from the rain," Thorin grumbled back.     "I would listen to him Kili," Bilbo added. "Having rain flow down your back isn't the most enjoyable thing."     "I am listening to him, aren't I," I growled at him. "I put up my hood didn't I?"     "Don't snap at the hobbit Kili," Fili growled at me. "He's just trying to save your hide from Thorin." I turned to face him, and found my sweet older brother glaring at me. I sighed noisily and turned back to the hobbit.     "Sorry for snapping," I muttered. Bilbo shrugged.     "I am surprised everyone else isn't snapping," Bilbo admitted.

    A few hours later, Myrin landed right next to Thorin, frowning.     "You should see this," She said. Everyone looked up and stared at her through the rain. Thorin pulled his pony to a stop next to Lakita.     "Show me," Thorin said. Myrin shook her head.     "You have to fly there, in order to see it."     "You aren't doing that Thorin," Dwalin said. Myrin stared ice daggers at him.     "He'll be perfectly fine on Lakita," Myrin said, patting the griffon's feathers. Lakita trilled as she looked around. "Just like riding a pony. And he must see this." Dwalin glared at her.     "Is it something you find interesting," Dwalin asked.     "If you call a danger in the path interesting, then yes, it is very interesting," Myrin snarled at him. She turned back to Thorin. "Just get on." Thorin grumbled something, got off his pony, got on Lakita, behind Myrin and they flew off, leaving Dwalin fuming. Bilbo leaned over.     "What's with them," He asked,  throwing his head towards Dwalin.     "Old grudges I guess," I said. I glanced at Fili, who shrugged. We never really knew what made Dwalin and Myrin enemies, so it must of happened before they settled in Ered Luin. Bilbo frowned and squinted at Dwalin, who was leading Thorin's pony at the head of the line.     "Must been something bad..."     "Who knows," Fili said. He dug his heels into the pony and jolted forward. I followed suit and glanced at Bilbo, who was shaking his head, mumbling to himself. I leaned over.     "What are you thinking," I asked. Bilbo looked up and shook his head.     "Just wondering what was so interesting," Bilbo growled. We didn't have to wait too long to ask. Lakita, Myrin and Thorin were flying rapidly back towards us from the north east. Lakita landed and laid on her stomach, then Thorin was shoved off the saddle. Mryin started to shout at him loudly and in Khuzdul. You would think that I could understand it, but I couldn't. She was talking so fast, I could only pick up words. The ones that made sense, were Idiot, Balrog, Let Go, Told You, Never, and Stupid. Thorin sat in the mud staring at Myrin as she ranted at him. She gave him one more hard scowl, then she flew into the sky. Thorin pulled himself off the ground and brushed himself off. He walked over to his pony and got on.     "Move on," He said.     "What did you do Thorin," Gandalf shouted, spurring ahead to ride next to Thorin. Thorin snorted.     "I didn't do anything," Thorin growled back as we started to move again.     "You obviously did something," I yelled at him. "Why else would Myrin yell at you like that! She called you a Balrog, Thorin. She doesn't even call NORK one!" Thorin turned his steely gaze at me, his eyes narrowed.     "Because her beast did it, and she won't admit it." I felt my jaw drop. Lakita wouldn't harm anyone, ever! I rode on her when I was three, and nothing happened. I shut my mouth and glared back at Thorin. Thorin bared his teeth at me and turned back around, growling still.     "I think I agree with her," I shouted. I rode out of the line and rode ahead of everyone.     "KILI, GET BACK HERE," Thorin shouted. "YOU TOO FILI!" I turned around, and found Fili following me.     "Kili," Fili shouted after a while. "We should go back!" I snorted and slowed down.     "Why," I asked. Fili rode up next to me.     "Because we don't know what's out here," Fili said quietly. "Sure, Thorin might be a balrog, but we don't know what happened exactly. There might be a chance that something happened to make Lakita snap-"     "No, Lakita won't even hunt near us," I yelled at him. I pointed back towards the line of ponies now in the distance. "He's been irrational, thinking that Lakita did something." Fili nodded.     "I agree, Lakita is the safest griffon out there," Fili defended. "But we don't know what's out here, and I would like to stay alive. Can we please get back, we don't even have to acknowledge Thorin." I looked at Fili through one eye. Okay, so he agreed with me, and was willing to bare Thorin's anger with me. I sighed, and turned the pony back towards the company.     "Fine," I said through my teeth. I dug my heels into the pony's sides and it lunged forward.     "Don't pick sides yet," Fili warned. "Not until we get both sides of the story." I nodded. We got to the camp and removed the saddles from the ponies. Everyone else was by the fire, how they were able to make it in this rain was beyond me. Then again, Gloin was pretty handy with a flint. Someone must of found some dry wood too. Thorin was sitting under a tree, a bowl of stew in his hands. I glared at him and grabbed my bowl from my pack. Bombur dished me some stew and I sat by the hobbit. Bilbo looked up, the cloak he was borrowing from Dwalin was huge on him. I couldn't help but snicker at him as I sat next to him.     "I know it's huge, but don't laugh," Bilbo grumbled. He was sitting in his own little tent, all made by the cloak, so how could I not? Fili joined me next to Bilbo, his own bowl of food in his hand. Bilbo turned to him and burrowed further into his tent.     "Staying dry," Fili asked. Bilbo nodded.     "Rather be sitting on the saddle then here though."     "Why's that," I asked. The saddle was harder then tree roots, last I remembered.     "It's dry," Bilbo said with a smirk. I nodded with my own smirk. "Or it was... So what did Myrin say to Thorin earlier?"     "We don't know really," Fili said quietly, tossing Thorin a look. He was talking quietly with Dwalin. Fili turned back to Bilbo, who was frowning.     "But she was speaking your language, right?"     "Yeah, but she was talking fast. We could only pick up a few words. And they weren't too nice." Bilbo looked at us through one eye.     "Define nice," I grumbled. Fili rolled his eyes as he looked towards the top of the tree.     "Okay, so nice was exaggeration," Fili said very quietly. "She called him a few nasty names." Bilbo frowned at Fili.     "But they weren't even out for half an hour," Bilbo reminded. "What could of happened in that time to make her so.... cross?" I looked around the camp and smiled.     "We can find out now," I said, pointing to Myrin. She was walking to the stew pot, a scowl on her face, bowl in hand. Bombur gave her some food and she walked over to Thorin. He turned around a little and looked her in the eye.     "Hope you're here to apologize," He mumbled. Fili and I flinched. Bad move Thorin.... Myrin's free hand clenched, and she threw her bowl of stew down.     "You think I'M here to apologize," She screeched at him. "If anyone should, you are the first that comes to mind! I told you NOT to do something, and you DID IT!"     "I didn't do anything," Thorin yelled back, standing up.     "That's just it, YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!!"     "If that beast didn't let go of me, then that wouldn't of happened!" Myrin bared her teeth at Thorin.     "How could she of LET GO?! YOU WERE ON HER BACK!!!! AND IF ANYONE'S A BEAST HERE, YOU ARE!" Balin stood up and set his hand on Myrin's shoulder.     "Lassie, calm down-"     "NO, I AM NOT CALMING DOWN," Myrin growled/screeched at Balin. "Thorin nearly DIED because he didn't follow my instructions, all because he thought he knew better! Well, guess what?! You don't, and you almost died because you thought you did!" Thorin opened his mouth, shut it and glared at her.     "That was uncalled though, calling me a Balrog," He growled at her.     "YOU'RE MISSING THE POINT," Myrin snarled at him, twice as harsh this time around. She raised her hand, probably to slap him, but drew it back to her ear and morphed it into a pointer. She launched her pointer at Thorin's nose, and held it right in front of it. "Do you have any idea what would happen if you died," She asked, deathly quiet. "The journey would be forfeit, Erebor would never be reclaimed, Dis would have lost another brother, Fili and Kili their uncle, and the council in Ered Luin would over run everything. All in all, everything you care about would be destroyed. Don't do anything like that again..." Myrin lowered her finger, glared once more at Thorin and stalked off. The camp was silent, only everyone's shocked breathing could be heard.

    A week later, and Myrin still wasn't talking to Thorin. Multiple times, Thorin had ridden up to talk with her, and she flew away, leaving Thorin fuming again. The rain hadn't stopped, so we were riding through mud, puddles, the food had gotten soaked, and what wasn't soaked was moldy. Fortunately, the deer had been out a lot in this weather, so Fili and I went hunting every night. Unfortunately, the wind had knocked many twigs down, so even if we would tread lightly, something would snap, alerting the deer and sending them away. Luckily, this time around, we hadn't stepped on anything, and had already brought down a few hawks. Too bad the arrows had broken when they landed though.... I loosed an arrow at the buck in front of me and it missed. The buck leaped away as I yelled into the flooded forest. That was my last arrow, and I had lost it into the brier bushes. I wouldn't borrow from Myrin, she needed those to scout, and I couldn't borrow from anyone else. Thorin was the only other archer, and I wouldn't borrow from him in his current mood. He wasn't snapping at everything, but he wasn't exactly agreeable either. Fili burst from the bushes, two hawks in each hand.     "Didn't get it," He asked, already knowing the answer. I growled and shouldered my bow, not meeting his gaze. "That's okay Kee, I mean.... We have these pretties don't we?" Fili held up the hawks with a smile on his face. I shrugged and took one from him.     "Hey, who do you think Thorin was writing," I asked. When we had left the company, Thorin had been writing something, and hadn't even noticed our leaving, as loud as it was. Fili shrugged as he threw the limp bird over the pony.     "Probably Amad, maybe his girlfriend," He mumbled. I snorted and climbed up onto my pony, three hawks behind the saddle.  We followed the trail out of the forest, then followed everyone's trail to the camp for tonight. It was right next to a river, and the bridge that crossed it was underwater, not to mention in the middle of the swollen river. The camp was nestled under a group of trees, and the ponies in a clearing just to the north. I rode over that way as Fili dropped his two hawks off at the camp. There wasn't a fire going, so I assumed that the dry wood Bofur had been hording in his pack had finally run out. Shame... I rode into the clearing for the ponies and slid off the slippery saddle. The hobbit was right, sitting on a dry saddle was nicer then sitting on the wet ground, or worse a wet saddle. I pulled at the straps keeping the saddle on the beast. Me being the stupid dwarfling I am, forgot to try up the pony before I started to mess with it's sensitive areas. That and combined with something hiding in the grass just in front of it's nose made it bolt. Not wanting to disappoint Thorin yet again in loosing the four hawks, I ran off after the pony. I passed Fili and his own pony as mine bolted for the river. I chased it into the river, staring in horror as the saddle, and the food fell off it. I lost my footing as Fili ran in after me. My head plunged under as someone shouted on the bank. I tumbled around the river, terror seizing my chest in an icy grip. Maybe it was the water soaking through my clothes, but it didn't feel like it stopped when it hit my skin. My head broke through the surface, only to be plunged back under by a nasty rapid. I'm not the best swimmer, can barely stay afloat in a peaceful lake. This, this was going to kill me. I bobbed back to the surface and managed to take a breath that I really needed.     "KILI," Fili shouted from the middle of the river, his arms thrashing madly as he swam towards me. "STAY ABO-" Fili's commands were drowned out as I was shoved back under by another rapid. The water underneath was dark and murky, twigs, leaves and small rocks rushing past me. The water was freezing, how I hadn't noticed this before when I had first entered the water, I didn't know how. I swam back to the surface and burst through, just to get shoved back under as I hit my head on a large branch that had fallen half way into the river. I cartwheeled in the water, getting slammed against boulders lodged in the former stream. Everything was going fuzzy, and my lungs were screaming for air. My energy was fading, and my strokes were slowing, not that they had been doing much good. With was energy I had left, my hand went to my pocket, where I kept a stone that Amad had given me. It wasn't pretty, or large, but it was one of the most precious things I had. Home was etched into it's top, a promise I wouldn't be able to keep. I squeeze it and shut my eyes. It couldn't end like this! I refused to drown! I let go of the stone and my eyes flung open. I couldn't see much, between the black spots filling my vision and the murkiness of the water. Then I spotted it, a large boulder I would be passing in about ten seconds. I swam towards it and braced my feet against it. I could feel the water pushing against me, willing me to forget about trying not to die. I crouched down and gathered the new energy I had found within me. I sprang upwards, pushing through the water, yet moving with the current still. I burst through the surface and took a deep breath. I flailed at the water, staying afloat, just barely. I took many deep breaths, the burning feeling in my lungs easing. Someone grabbed my hand and drug me across the water, but I didn't have the energy to see who it was. I could hear shouting, but it seemed far off, and my vision was fading again. The person that had grabbed me flopped down on something hard, but it didn't hurt. Well, it hurt, but not as much as it could have, as it should have. More shouting, then someone picked me up, flipped me onto my stomach, and set me on something warm and soft. Then they started to beat my back. The burning sensation in my lungs started again as something came flowing out of my mouth. Only a little at first, but getting larger the more the person beating. I coughed, heat coming to my cheeks, pain shooting to my back, basically all my body. I couldn't take a breath though, not that I didn't want to. I took as much air as I could, and coughed again. Someone grabbed my feet and lifted them up, dumping me onto my face. More stuff came spewing out of my mouth, gurgling as I took a breath to cough again. Sounds came rushing back to me.     "Is he okay," the hobbit asked, loudly, sending my head spinning, twice as fast. I coughed again, sending something out of my mouth. Someone started to rub my back, helping the rest of the junk out of my lungs.     "Don't know yet," Oin said.     "Now shut up," Thorin snapped. I took a deep breath, coughed one last time and took another, not coughing.     "Set him down gently," Oin said, patting my back. "Bombur roll out of the way- NO THE OTHER WAY!" The warm thing pressing against my belly moved away as my legs were lowered. More stuff came flooding out of my nose and mouth as they lowered me, and I hated the feeling. I moaned when everything wasn't moving again. I opened my eyes and took a tentative swallow. My throat was raw, and felt like someone took a fish filleting to it. Fili's face filled my vision, he was so close that I had to cross my eyes to see him.     "Hey, wake up Kee....Please," He said quietly. I blinked at him and he let out a shaky breath, ducking and shaking his head at the same time. "You little imp," He yelled, making my head pound. "Do you have any idea what-"     "Stop please," I croaked. I heard my voice crack when I said please. Fili stared at me, fear and worry ebbing away from his eyes, being replaced by relief. He pressed his forehead against mine, I could feel him shaking as he clutched my head.     "Don't do that again," He sobbed through my hair. I moaned again, reaching up and grabbing his forearm. I attempted to squeeze it, but I barely saw the fabric move. It felt warm and wet. I started to shiver, and that's when Oin pulled Fili away.     "We have to get ye two warm, or ye'll get hypothermia," He said, looking Fili in the face. He looked at me and frowned. "Do ye think walkin's an option," He asked me. I shook my head, felling like an over used piece of leather. Limp and worn out. Oin growled as he stood up. He shouted orders, something about picking me up. Fili got to his feet and walked next to Thorin, who was carrying me back to camp. A roaring fire was waiting, along a billion blankets. Our wet clothing was removed, until we were down to just out under wear. Fili and I huddled in a huge blanket, Thorin's warm coat draped over our heads, reminding me of all the fortresses we had made when we were little. Oin handed us both a cup of steaming something, then walked away. Thorin was on us in a heartbeat. He stood in front of us, scowling into our blanket fortress, the fire behind him casting his shadow on us, adding to the effect. I ducked further into the blankets, hiding everything below my nose from the outside world.     "Kili, do you know what you did wrong," Thorin began, his voice soft. I curled tighter into a ball, and wouldn't meet Thorin's gaze. "Kili..." I took a deep breath and looked up at my uncle.     "I followed the pony into the river," I mumbled. Thorin crouched down and looked me in the eye.     "Do you know why you shouldn't of done that," He asked. I nodded, felling more like a dwarfling then an old piece of leather now. "Explain." I felt my throat close up.     "I could have drowned ," I mumbled through the blanket. I held my knees against my chest, wiggling my toes in anxiety. Thorin looked at me, the expression on his face unreadable.     "And....."     "And....I should of let the pony run into the river, then come back." I looked at Fili, tears welling in my eyes. He glanced over at me then returned to his cup of something. I burrowed into my blanket to hide my face. "I'm so sorry, Thorin," I sobbed. I felt Fili loop an arm around my shoulders and draw me close to him, then I felt Thorin wrap both of us in his firm but gently hug. I sat huddled in the middle of my brother and uncle, sobbing. I think I heard a sniffle from Fili, and I felt one of Thorin's tears drip onto my head. Once I was done sobbing, I sat back up and tackled Thorin's neck. Once more, I felt like a little dwarfling, but for a different reason. Thorin let go of Fili and hugged me back. He let go when I started to shiver again so I could burrow back into the blankets. I wiped my face with it and sighed.     "Thanks Fee," I said. He stared at me, frowning.     "For what," He asked. My turn to frown at him.     "For dragging me out of the water," I said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, 'cause it was.     "That wasn't Fili, that was Myrin," Thorin said. "And I think you both owe her an apology." I felt my face twitch, almost raised an eye brow at him. Didn't he have one to her too? Wood being dumped startled me, so my head whirled around. Myrin dumped some wood onto a nice little stack that I hadn't noticed. Her face was white, lips turning blue at the edges, and she was rubbing her hands as if they couldn't get warm. Oin noticed this and shoved her towards the fire. Myrin didn't argue, verbally or physically, like she normally did.     "What did I tell ye," Oin yelled at her, shoving on her back again. "I told ye to getta wood, come back and WARM UP! Notta go an' get more! Sit down this secon' before I make ye!" Myrin didn't argue, and sat next to the pile of blankets. I took off Thorin's coat and held it up to her as she took off her coat, cloak, half vest, weapons, boots, socks, and other things. When she was just in her white undershirt and leggings, she looked at me, smiled as much as she could with teeth chattering and took the coat.     "Th-than-nn-kkksss, Kili," She chattered. I scooted closer to Fili and held open the blanket fort. She smiled again and sat down next to me, pulling the blanket against her back. Oin handed her a cup soon after, then she stopped chattering, and started trying to get up. Oin growled at her for a while, something healer-ey so she stayed put. The second she wasn't cold to the touch, Oin let her have her own blanket mound. Lakita walked up to Myrin's mound, sniffed it, then laid around Myrin, resting her head on her paws in front of Myrin. Bilbo walked over to Fili and I and sat down.     "You both are idiots," He said as he rolled out our bedrolls. "Running into the river like that, what were you thinking?!"     "He doesn't," Fili and I said at the same time. We stared at eachother, then burst out laughing.

    I woke up in the middle of the night. I had fallen asleep sometime whilst talking to the hobbit, who was sprawled out on my bed roll, drooling. If only Ori was up, then he could draw a picture, then I could tease the hobbit endlessly! I lifted my head off of Fili's shoulder and looked around. The fire had almost died, and the rest of the company were in their respective family heaps. Thorin must of been taking watch, but I didn't see him anywhere. I turned my head to the right, the only spot in the camp that I couldn't see. The only things over there were Gandalf and Myrin's drying clothes. That's when I saw Thorin inching away from Myrin's half vest.     "What are you doing," I asked him. Thorin turned towards me and smirked.     "What are you doing up this late," He asked, using the same tone.     "You tell me first," I said, sitting a little straighter and folding my arms. Thorin threw his up and looked to the stars, which were shining brightly, despite today's earlier down pour.     "Giving Myrin an apology, but don't tell her," Thorin said at last as he threw his hands down. I shrugged and snuggled back against Fili, who was still snoring. Thorin walked over and rubbed his head, then rubbed mine.     "G'nigh' Thorin," I said best I could with one cheek scrunched up. Thorin chuckled.     "Good Night Kili," He mumbled softly.

[theimaginesyouneveraskedfor]

The Heart Speaks

Disclaimer: As this is my first fic featuring a deaf character, I would like to make it clear that I have no intent of offending anyone. Forgive me if I have made any mistakes or have mis-worded at times. I wrote this as a request but also because I wanted to create an inclusionary fic. Feel free to share your feedback with me as I am open to improvement and to learning. Thank you all.

Imagine accidentally punching Thorin.

Requested by @loverofbookstm

A single chest. Your whole life had fit in that one box. You had lived much of your life with less but it felt terribly pathetic when you stopped and thought about it. For all the years you had behind you, it seemed a rather meagre showing.

You sat atop your luggage, rocking as the wind filled your hood. The autumn gales were bitter. A purse of silver had bought you passage home though you would have paid twice, even ten times as much for the privilege.  You had joined the cavalcade by chance, fortune setting you on the road at the right time.

You looked up at the looming mountain, a grim giant against the pale afternoon sky. You had departed at just the right time. You could tell the snow would soon fall in Erebor. As the wagon jolted, you grunted and hung onto the rail.

The driver called out, you saw his lips move but you could not hear him. As you could not hear the whistling winds or the creaky wheels below. It felt all the more chilly in your world of silence. And lonely.

You braced yourself as the road turned rockier, steeper. The mules climbed carefully, setting their hooves firmly in the dirt. You turned to watch the train of wagons following behind you. Those who had fled to Ered Luin were at last returning. 

There were several dwarves at the top of the hill, helping those who had preceded your cart. The bustle was muted in your head but the lips of travellers and residents alike never ceased. As your wagon approached the head of the line, you were helped down by a dwarf with wild red hair and you grabbed your chest before he could do it for you. You were able, even if you couldn’t hear.

You bowed your head at the greetings passed your way; the movement of eyes and lips alerting you to their words. You dragged your luggage behind you, a bundle offered as you reached the door of the mountain. You nodded graciously as you accepted the present from the dark-haired woman, her blue eyes smiling along with her mouth.

These were your people but they felt as strangers. Though blood bound you to them, the dearth of sound was isolating. You could understand them, read their lips and even sign, but many had not the patience to speak with you. You had grown use it. Communication for you was often lopsided.

A white-haired dwarf greeted you at the end of the first corridor, he held a map and spoke before you could sight his lips. You watched them intently, nodding as he pointed to a chamber on the parchment and you traced the path from where you were to the destination.

“Can you find your way?” He spoke slower this time as you kept your eyes on his lips.

“Yes,” You managed to eek out; your voice disused. You reached up to touch your ear and shook your head, signalling your lack of hearing. He smiled and touched your elbow, but not with the usual pity. He was of the few who had ever looked at you with respect after realizing your impediment.

You hid the curve of your lips as you continued down the next hallway, reciting the directions in your head so that you did not forget. To the east and then a right and left, another right and another, keep going till the next corner. You were so intent on finding the correct chamber that you had lost track of your surroundings.

Many had turned before you did and you were left to wander alone. Shadows flickered in the light of lanterns. The corridors were airy and smelled of pine. You reached out to touch the wall, feel the reverberation of distant voices. You had learned to find comfort in silence but at times, it was entirely desolate.

You lowered your arm, taking the first right on the list. The twists and turns were almost confusing, the Mountain a labyrinth. You were content, however, that you had memorized the directions. You turned left, away from another set of corridors and the next right was so close you nearly missed it.

You felt the air shift and something touched you shoulder. You would have screamed if your voice came naturally and you turned, dropping your bundle and striking out. Your fist met with another and you watched as the figure staggered, holding his jaw. You covered your mouth with your hand, trembling as the broad-shouldered dwarf uncovered his bloody lip.

‘Sorry,’ You signed without thought, the dwarf staring back in confusion. ‘Are you okay?”

He shook his head and held out a handkerchief with blueberries embroidered along its edges. It had been your mother’s, sewn by her mother before her. You reached out and took it sheepishly, nodding your thanks.

“A thank you would be customary,” The dwarf scowled, his blue eyes piercing.

You lowered your head, tucking away the handkerchief in your pocket. You found the courage to look up, once more signalling to your ears. He raised a brow, seemingly even more confused. You sighed, your shoulders rising and falling. You pulled on your ear and shook your head.

“You...can’t hear?” You read his lips as he spoke.

You nodded and realization washed the tension from his face. You gestured to his jaw and signed sorry again, hoping he could figure it out.

“It’s okay,” He replied and knelt, picking up your bundle and placing it back in your arms. “I’m sorry I frightened you.”

He kept his words deliberate, conscious of your intent gaze at his mouth. You were thankful for it but he needn’t talk so slow.

‘Thank you,’ You signed and made to grab your chest.

“Wait…” He blinked as he paused tentatively, “Your name?”

You pursed your lips and he seemed to kick himself. He began to feel around in his pockets and pulled forth a small leather notebook. He unwound the hide tie which held it closed, revealing charts of musical notes. The sight making you wince. He took a pencil of charcoal from within it and held it out to you.

Hesitantly, you reached out and took the pencil, slowly writing your name on the blank page he offered. He turned it and read, reciting it aloud, at least you guessed he had spoken by the movement of his lips.

“Thorin,” He pointed to himself and your blood ran cold. You had punched the King of Erebor and you had only just arrived. Would you be expelled so soon? Your arms were too full to sign ‘crown’ at him but he appeared to recognize the fear in your face. 

He smiled and shook his hand, raising his palms appeasingly. “It’s fine. Really.”

You nodded, turning to grab your chest handle. You peered back and bowed your head in farewell but he looked disappointed. You scurried forward before you could abuse him any further and took another right, once more repeating the directions in your mind.

For what was left of your silver, you had bartered a loom off a dam who had been fortunate enough to have one in the chamber assigned her. She had not been want to use it but was unwilling to part with it for free. The negotiation had been awkward and stymied and you had ended up shoving a dozen coins into her hand and seizing it yourself.

It wasn’t even worth that much. You had to repair it yourself and that had taken a full two days. You began your operation small but managed to sell enough to buy a few bolts of finer fabric. Within the month, you were sewing dresses for several dams. You had much preferred tailoring to weaving but both were lucrative.

As more goods began to arrive from Dale and Mirkwood, you were able to diversify. Still, you hadn’t rebuilt all you had left behind. You had grown used to restarting but this would be the last time.

The shade raised over the lamp, revealing the flickering flame. You had fashioned the contraption yourself. Unable to hear visitors knocking, you had run a length of string from the lamp through the door and hung a sign warning customers to pull it. The light was enough to draw your attention, the shade rising and falling on the length of twine.

You set down the pair of slippers you were working on to answer. You were surprised to reveal a familiar face, though it wasn’t entirely welcome. The king awaited your response, standing patiently in the hallway. You raised your hands, signalling peace, and he chuckled.

You bowed and he shook his head, signalling you to stand upright. He waved his hello and pointed within, asking for entrance. You stepped back and swept your arm towards the chamber, watching as he stepped inside. You closed the door and looked back to him, wringing your hands anxiously.

You returned to your table to fetch the parchment you used with clients, pointing to the first question. “What can I help you with?”

He read it and pressed his lips together, thinking. He held up a finger, begging for a moment as he considered his response. “Well, several things.”

He glanced around your chamber, walking beside the row of various garments hanging along your wall. He turned back and neared the table, pointing to the chair as you nodded your assent. He sat as you stood across from him and he looked you in the face. “First, I should like a new outfit for my coronation; overcoat, tunic, trousers, the like.”

You bobbed your head up in down attentively.

“Second,” He let his hand rest on the table, tapping his fingers upon it, “I want you to teach me how to speak with you.”

You raised the paper again, circling the word ‘what’ with your fingers. He grinned and shook his hair behind his head.

“I don’t want this paper and pencil nonsense,” He replied, “I want to be able to talk to you.”

You stared at him blandly. You had no pre-written response for that. The only dwarrow you had ever known to speak in signs beside yourself was your mother. You hadn’t seen the king since your first meeting. You wouldn’t have thought him eager for a second after your assault, let alone an ongoing acquaintance.

“I’ve seen you around, scribbling on your paper,” He frowned, “You shouldn’t have to accommodate others without recompense.”

You approached the table, laying the parchment across it and writing in the blank space along the bottom; ‘you don’t have to.’

“I want to,” He waited for you to look at him before he spoke, “Now, can we begin now or shall we make an appointment?”

‘Aren’t you busy?’ You wrote.

“My throne can wait,” He assured, “I’d like to know how to say thank you before I leave. In the very least.”

The king had been visiting every other night for lessons and his fittings. It had been two months since his first and he was coming along very well. In return, he was teaching you khuzdul and his presence had grown more comforting than intimidating. This night, you watched as he read from a list and signed the words to you. He was indeed a smart dwarf.

‘Well done,’ You signed and saw the light of recognition behind his eyes.

‘Thank you,’ He replied with his hands, ‘I have a...good teacher. No, great.’

You smiled and shook your head modestly. From all you had read on other people’s lips, you hadn’t figured the king to be such a patient dwarf. In fact, you had seen his own nephews talking of their frustrations with him. Yet, you felt it wasn’t due to sympathy as he had not the patronizing attitude as most. There appeared to be genuine interest in him.

‘The clothes,’ He gestured to your pending work; his vocabulary was still quite basic, ‘Which one is yours?’

‘Mine?’

‘You have a dress for the...corn?’ He asked.

‘Coronation,’ You corrected, ‘No. I am not going.’

‘No?’ He frowned, ‘Why not?’

‘I cannot hear the music nor speak to any guest,’ You admitted meekly, ‘I fear there isn’t much fun to be had.’

‘You can speak with me,’ He signed, ‘And there will be much food.’

‘I am used to it,’ You signed, ‘I don’t mind staying in.’

“Won’t you come?” This time he did not sign, “For me?”

You sighed and looked at him grimly. He was the king. He didn’t have to buy his royal clothing from you or spend his evening in your company. It was little to ask in return.

You nodded and signalled your surrender. His smile almost eased your fears. Almost. Crowds could be overwhelming, even if you couldn’t hear the ruckus.

It was easy to get lost in a crowd when you didn’t make a sound. You let yourself be carried with the tide of people to the feast hall. For most of the crowning ceremony you had sat in silence, unable to hear the vows. Craning to see over the heads around you, you at least saw the coronet placed on Thorin’s head.

The thought of food made your stomach gurgle but that could have as easily been your nerves. You found a seat among the rabble between a dam you had sewn several garters for and a dwarf who was somehow already intoxicated. Those who had come to you for their evening attire didn’t appear to see you though they had had enough time for you when they needed your services.

You filled your plate with vegetables, forgoing the venison for the sake of your stomach. You would get horrible indigestion from spiced meats and it was much too gamey for your taste. You chewed on a stock of broccoli as you glanced along the royal dais, the king gaily laughing among his kin and peers. You had never had many of either and they were all gone now.

Dessert was better. You had always favoured a sweeter palate. You ate the trifle with delight, savouring the juicy berries in the dead of winter. You wondered how the kingdom had afforded such a rarity. Well, you were certain the royal coffers were much deeper than that of a seamstress.

The table began to clear out and it wasn’t until you spotted the lute player that you realized the music had started. You had felt the vibrations but the hall of voices bouncing off the rafters had masked it. You hid your sadness behind your hand, keeping your mouth concealed as you looked longingly at the band.

You wondered what it would be like to hear a melody. To lose yourself in a jaunty tune or sorrowful dirge. It made you utterly depressed.

You sniffed and stood, forgetting what was left of your dessert. You tiptoed around the chairs, your skirts whisking against the table. You shouldn’t have come. Even if the king had asked you, it had been a mistake.

You nearly ran down the halls, skidding to a halt outside your chamber to catch your breath. You were immediately embarrassed at your flight. You should’ve sat and bore the silence. You were certain everyone must have noticed the mute running back to her hole.

You closed your eyes as you leaned against the wall. You shook your head at yourself and tried to stem the doubts flurrying inside. The ones telling you how foolish you were. For even thinking of attending the coronation. For leaving so abruptly. There was no right decision.

You opened your eyes as you sensed a change in the air. A pair of polished boots shone before you and slowly you raised your head. Thorin was watching you as you emerged from your catatonia and you touched your cheeks in dismay. How long had he been there?

‘You should be at your coronation,’ You chided with frantic fingers.

‘I’m where I need to be,’ He signed back, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing,’ You rolled your eyes.

He raised his eyebrows, his gaze impenetrable.

‘I can’t hear the music...I can’t dance.’ You replied, ‘Not my kind of fun.’

He tilted his head, reaching out to touch your silken sleeve. He admired the seam with his thumb and smiled. His finger laced between yours and his other hand rested on your waist. He pulled you away from the wall. “You can dance,” He mouthed.

He began to lead you, circling and swaying around the corridor. You swallowed shyly, looking down as you stepped on his toes. You could feel his laughter rumbling his chest and you glanced up at him. You smiled, despite the racing of your heart and his blue eyes were a calm river in the dark.

“You should go back,” You enunciated in stunted speech, you throat contracting uncomfortably.

“I have my crown,” He said, “And a gifted dance partner. That’s all I need.”

His hand slid across your waist, his arm hugging you closer. You timidly let your head rest against Thorin’s chest. His warmth formed a shield around you. You could feel the beating of his heart against your cheek.

For the first time, you could hear music; the king’s heart playing a love song along with yours.

[readbookywooks]

A Warm Welcome

The day grew lighter and warmer as they floated along. After a while the river rounded a steep shoulder of land that came down upon their left. Under its rocky feet like an inland cliff the deepest stream had flowed lapping and bubbling. Suddenly the cliff fell away. The shores sank. The trees ended. Then Bilbo saw a sight: The lands opened wide about him, filled with the waters of the river which broke up and wandered in a hundred winding courses, or halted in marshes and pools dotted with isles on every side: but still a strong water flowed on steadily through the midst. And far away, its dark head in a torn cloud, there loomed the Mountain! Its nearest neighbours to the North-East and the tumbled land that joined it to them could not be seen. All alone it rose and looked across the marshes to the forest. The Lonely Mountain! Bilbo had come far and through many adventures to see it, and now he did not like the look of it in the least. As he listened to the talk of the raftmen and pieced together the scraps of information they let fall, he soon realized that he was very fortunate ever to have seen it at all, even from this distance. Dreary as had been his imprisonment and unpleasant as was his position (to say nothing of the poor dwarves underneath him) still, he had been more lucky than he had guessed. The talk was all of the trade that came and went on the waterways and the growth of the traffic on the river, as the roads out of the East towards Mirkwood vanished or fell into disuse; and of the bickerings of the Lake-men and the Wood-elves about the upkeep of the Forest River and the care of the banks. Those lands had changed much since the days when dwarves dwelt in the Mountain, days which most people now remembered only as a very shadowy tradition. They had changed even in recent years, and since the last news that Gandalf had had of them. Great floods and rains had swollen the waters that flowed east; and there had been an earthquake or two (which some were inclined to attribute to the dragon-alluding to him chiefly with a curse and an ominous nod in the direction of the Mountain). The marshes and bogs had spread wider and wider on either side. Paths had vanished, and many a rider and wanderer too, if they had tried to find the lost ways across. The elf-road through the wood which the dwarves had followed on the advice of Beorn now came to a doubtful and little used end at the eastern edge of the forest; only the river offered any longer a safe way from the skirts of Mirkwood in the North to the mountain-shadowed plains beyond, and the river was guarded by the Wood-elves' king. So you see Bilbo had come in the end by the only road that was any good. It might have been some comfort to Mr. Baggins shivering on the barrels, if he had known that news of this had reached Gandalf far away and given him great anxiety, and that he was in fact finishing his other business (which does not come into this tale) and getting ready to come in search of Thorin's company. But Bilbo did not know it. All he knew was that the river seemed to go on and on and on for ever, and he was hungry, and had a nasty cold in the nose, and did not like the way the Mountain seemed to frown at him and threaten him as it drew ever nearer. After a while, however, the river took a more southerly course and the Mountain receded again, and at last, late in the day the shores grew rocky, the river gathered all its wandering waters together into a deep and rapid flood, and they swept along at great speed. The sun had set when turning with another sweep towards the East the forest-river rushed into the Long Lake. There it had a wide mouth with stony clifflike gates at either side whose feet were piled with shingles. The Long Lake! Bilbo had never imagined that any water that was not the sea could look so big. It was so wide that the opposite shores looked small and far, but it was so long that its northerly end, which pointed towards the Mountain, could not be seen at all. Only from the map did Bilbo know that away up there, where the stars of the Wain were already twinkling, the Running River came down into the lake from Dale and with the Forest River filled with deep waters what must once have been a great deep rocky valley. At the southern end the doubled waters poured out again over high waterfalls and ran away hurriedly to unknown lands. In the still evening air the noise of the falls could be heard like a distant roar. Not far from the mouth of the Forest River was the strange town he heard the elves speak of in the king's cellars. It was not built on the shore, though there were a few huts and buildings there, but right out on the surface of the lake, protected from the swirl of the entering river by a promontory of rock which formed a calm bay. A great. bridge made of wood ran out to where on huge piles made of forest trees was built a busy wooden town, not a town of elves but of Men, who still dared to dwell here under the shadow of the distant dragon-mountain. They still throve on the trade that came up the great river from the South and was carted past the falls to their town; but in the great days of old, when Dale in the North was rich and prosperous, they had been wealthy and powerful, and there had been fleets of boats on the waters, and some were filled with gold and some with warriors in armour, and there had been wars and deeds which were now only a legend. The rotting piles of a greater town could still be seen along the shores when the waters sank in a drought. But men remembered little of all that, though some still sang old songs of the dwarf-kings of the Mountain, Thror and Thrain of the race of Durin, and of the coming of the Dragon, and the fall of the lords of Dale. Some sang too that Thror and Thrain would come back one day and gold would flow in rivers through the mountain-gates, and all that land would be filled with new song and new laughter. But this pleasant legend did not much affect their daily business. As soon as the raft of barrels came in sight boats rowed out from the piles of the town, and voices hailed the raft-steerers. Then ropes were cast and oars were pulled, and soon the raft was drawn out of the current of the Forest River and towed away round the high shoulder of rock into the little bay of Lake-town. There it was moored not far from the shoreward head of the great bridge. Soon men would come up from the South and take some of the casks away, and others they would fill with goods they had brought to be taken back up the stream to the Wood-elves' home. In the meanwhile the barrels were left afloat while the elves of the raft and the boatmen went to feast in Lake-town. They would have been surprised, if they could have seen what happened down by the shore, after they had gone and the shades of night had fallen. First of all a barrel was cut loose by Bilbo and pushed to the shore and opened. Groans came from inside, and out crept a most unhappy dwarf. Wet straw was in his draggled beard; he was so sore and stiff, so bruised and buffeted he could hardly stand or stumble through the shallow water to lie groaning on the shore. He had a famished and a savage look like a dog that has been chained and forgotten in a kennel for a week. It was Thorin, but you could only have told it by his golden chain, and by the colour of his now dirty and tattered sky-blue hood with its tarnished silver tassel. It was some time before he would be even polite to the hobbit. "Well, are you alive or are you dead?" asked Bilbo quite crossly. Perhaps he had forgotten that he had had at least one good meal more than the dwarves, and also the use of his arms and legs, not to speak of a greater allowance of air. "Are you still in prison, or are you free? If you want food, and if you want to go on with this silly adventure -  it's yours after all and not mine-you had better slap your arms and rub your legs and try and help me get the others out while there is a chance!" Thorin of course saw the sense of this, so after a few more groans he got up and helped the hobbit as well as he could. In the darkness floundering in the cold water they had a difficult and very nasty job finding which were the right barrels. Knocking outside and calling only discovered about six dwarves that could answer. They were unpacked and helped ashore where they sat or lay muttering and moaning; they were so soaked and bruised and cramped that they could hardly yet realize their release or be properly thankful for it. Dwalin and Balin were two of the most unhappy, and it was no good asking them to help. Bifur and Bofur were less knocked about and drier, but they lay down and would do nothing. Fili and Kili, however, who were young (for dwarves) and had also been packed more neatly with plenty of straw into smaller casks, came out more or less smiling, with only a bruise or two and a stiffness that soon wore off. "I hope I never smell the smell of apples again!" said Fili. "My tub was full of it. To smell apples everlastingly when you can scarcely move and are cold and sick with hunger is maddening. I could eat anything in the wide world now, for hours on end-but not an apple!" With the willing help of Fili and Kili, Thorin and Bilbo at last discovered the remainder of the company and got them out. Poor fat Bombur was asleep or senseless; Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin and Gloin were waterlogged and seemed only half alive; they all had to be carried one by one and laid helpless on the shore. "Well! Here we are!" said Thorin. "And I suppose we ought to thank our stars and Mr. Baggins. I am sure he has a right to expect it, though I wish he could have arranged a more comfortable journey. Still-all very much at your service once more, Mr. Baggins. No doubt we shall feel properly grateful, when we are fed and recovered. In the meanwhile what next?" "I suggest Lake-town," said Bilbo, "What else is there?" Nothing else could, of course, be suggested; so leaving the others Thorin and Fili and Kili and the hobbit went along the shore to the great bridge. There were guards at the head of it, but they were not keeping very careful watch, for it was so long since there had been any real need. Except for occasional squabbles about river-tolls they were friends with the Wood-elves. Other folk were far away; and some of the younger people in the town openly doubted the existence of any dragon in the mountain, and laughed at the greybeards and gammers who said that they had seen him flying in the sky in their young days. That being so it is not surprising that the guards were drinking and laughing by a fire in their hut, and did not hear the noise of the unpacking of the dwarves or the footsteps of the four scouts. Their astonishment was enormous when Thorin Oakenshield stepped in through the door. "Who are you and what do you want?" they shouted leaping to their feet and gipping for weapons. "Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror King under the Mountain!" said the dwarf in a loud voice, and he looked it, in spite of his torn clothes and draggled hood. The gold gleamed on his neck and waist: his eyes were dark and deep. "I have come back. I wish to see the Master of your town!" Then there was tremendous excitement. Some of the more foolish ran out of the hut as if they expected the Mountain to go golden in the night and all the waters of the lake to turn yellow right away. The captain of the guard came forward. "And who are these?" he asked, pointing to Fili and: Kili and Bilbo. "The sons of my father's daughter," answered Thorin, "Fili and Kili of the race of Durin, and Mr. Baggins who has travelled with us out of the West." "If you come in peace lay down your arms!" said the captain. "We have none," said Thorin, and it was true enough: their knives had been taken from them by the wood-elves, and the great sword Orcrist too. Bilbo had his short sword, hidden as usual, but he said nothing about that. "We have no need of weapons, who return at last to our own as spoken of old. Nor could we fight against so many. Take us to your master!" "He is at feast," said the captain. "Then all the more reason for taking us to him," burst in Fili, who was getting impatient at these solemnities. "We are worn and famished after our long road and we have sick comrades. Now make haste and let us have no more words, or your master may have something to say to you." "Follow me then," said the captain, and with six men about them he led them over the bridge through the gates and into the market-place of the town. This was a wide circle of quiet water surrounded by the tall piles on which were built the greater houses, and by long wooden quays with many steps and ladders going down to the surface of the lake. From one great hall shone many lights and there came the sound of many voices. They passed its doors and stood blinking in the light looking at long tables filled with folk. "I am Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror King under the Mountain! I return!" cried Thorin in a loud voice from the door, before the captain could say anything. All leaped to their feet. The Master of the town sprang from his great chair. But none rose in greater surprise than the raft-men of the elves who were sitting at the lower end of the hall. Pressing forward before the Master's table they cried: "These are prisoners of our king that have escaped, wandering vagabond dwarves that could not give any good account of themselves, sneaking through the woods and molesting our people!" "Is this true?" asked the Master. As a matter of fact he thought it far more likely than the return of the King under the Mountain, if any such person had ever existed. "It is true that we were wrongfully waylaid by the Elven-king and imprisoned without cause as we journeyed back to our own land," answered Thorin. "But lock nor bar may hinder the homecoming spoken of old. Nor is this town in the Wood-elves' realm. I speak to the Master of the town of the Men of the lake, not to the raft-men of the king." Then the Master hesitated and looked from one to the other. The Elvenking was very powerful in those parts and the Master wished for no enmity with him, nor did he think much of old songs, giving his mind to.trade and tolls, to cargoes and gold, to which habit he owed his position. Others were of different mind, however, and quickly the matter was settled without him. The news had spread from the doors of the hall like fire through all the town. People were shouting inside the hall and outside it. The quays were thronged with hurrying feet. Some began to sing snatches of old songs concerning the return of the King under the Mountain; that it was Thror's grandson not Thror himself that had come back did not bother them at all. Others took up the song and it rolled loud and high over the lake. "The King beneath the mountains, The King of carven stone, The lord of silver fountains Shall come into his own! His crown shall be upholden, His harp shall be restrung, His halls shall echo golden To songs of yore re-sung. The woods shall wave on mountains And grass beneath the sun; His wealth shall flow in fountains And the rivers golden run. The streams shall run in gladness, The lakes shall shine and burn, And sorrow fail and sadness At the Mountain-king's return!" So they sang, or very like that, only there was a great deal more of it, and there was much shouting as well as the music of harps and of fiddles mixed up with it. Indeed such excitement had not been known in the town in the memory of the oldest grandfather. The Wood-elves themselves began to wonder greatly and even to be afraid. They did not know of course how Thorin had escaped, and they began to think their king might have made a serious mistake. As for the Master he saw there was nothing else for it but to obey the general clamour, for the moment at any rate, and to pretend to believe that Thorin was what he said. So he gave up to him his own great chair and set Fili and Kili beside him in places of honour. Even Bilbo was given a seat at the high table, and no explanation of where he came in-no songs had alluded to him even in the obscurest way-was asked for in the general bustle. Soon afterwards the other dwarves were brought into the town amid scenes of astonishing enthusiasm. They were all doctored and fed and housed and pampered in the most delightful and satisfactory fashion. A large house was given up to Thorin and his company; boats and rowers were put at their service; and crowds sat outside and sang songs all day, or cheered if any dwarf showed so much as his nose. Some of the songs were old ones; but some of them were quite new and spoke confidently of the sudden death of the dragon and of cargoes of rich presents coming down the river to Lake-town. These were inspired largely by the Master and they did not particularly please the dwarves, but in the meantime they were well contented and they quickly grew fat and strong again. Indeed within a week they were quite recovered, fitted out in fine cloth of their proper colours, with beards combed and trimmed, and proud steps. Thorin looked and walked as if his kingdom was already regained and Smaug chopped up into little pieces. Then, as he had said, the dwarves' good feeling towards the little hobbit grew stronger every day. There were no more groans or grumbles. They drank his health, and they patted him on the back, and they made a great fuss of him; which was just as well, for he was not feeling particularly cheerful. He had not forgotten the look of the Mountain, nor the thought of the dragon, and he had besides a shocking cold. For three days he sneezed and coughed, and he could not go out, and even after that his speeches at banquets were limited to "Thag you very buch." In the meanwhile the Wood-elves had gone back up the Forest River with their cargoes, and there was great excitement in the king's palace. I have never heard what happened to the chief of the guards and the butler. Nothing of course was ever said about keys or barrels while the dwarves stayed in Lake-town, and Bilbo was careful never to become invisible. Still, I daresay, more was guessed than was known, though doubtless Mr. Baggins remained a bit of a mystery. In any case the king knew now the dwarves' errand, or thought he did, and he said to himself: "Very well! We'll see! No treasure will come back through Mirkwood without my having something to say in the matter. But I expect they will all come to a bad end, and serve them right!" He at any rate did not believe in dwarves fighting and killing dragons like Smaug, and he strongly suspected attempted burglary or something like it which shows he was a wise elf and wiser than the men of the town, though not quite right, as we shall see in the end. He sent out his spies about the shores of the lake and as far northward towards the Mountains as they would go, and waited. At the end of a fortnight Thorin began to think of departure. While the enthusiasm still lasted in the town was the time to get help. It would not do to let everything cool down with delay. So he spoke to the Master and his councillors and said that soon he and his company must go on towards the Mountain. Then for the first time the Master was surprised and a little frightened; and he wondered if Thorin was after all really a descendant of the old kings. He had never thought that the dwarves would actually dare to approach Smaug, but believed they were frauds who would sooner or later be discovered and be turned out. He was wrong. Thorin, of course, was really the grandson of the King under the Mountain, and there is no knowing what a dwarf will not dare and do for revenge or the recovery of his own. But the Master was not sorry at all to let them go. They were expensive to keep, and their arrival had turned things into a long holiday in which business was at a standstill. "Let them go and bother Smaug, and see how he welcomes them!" he thought. "Certainly, O Thorin Thrain's son Thror's son!" was what he said. "You must claim your own. The hour is at hand, spoken of old. What help we can offer shall be yours, and we trust to your gratitude when your kingdom is regained." So one day, although autumn was now getting far on, and winds were cold, and leaves were falling fast, three large boats left Lake-town, laden with rowers, dwarves, Mr. Baggins, and many provisions. Horses and ponies had been sent round by circuitous paths to meet them at their appointed landing-place. The Master and his councillors bade them farewell from the great steps of the town-hall that went down to the lake. People sang on the quays and out of windows. The white oars dipped and splashed, and off they went north up the lake on the last stage of their long journey. The only person thoroughly unhappy was Bilbo.

[centuryofdean]

When Lightening Strikes - Chapter 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

“Wake up Kili, it is time to leave The Shire.”

No matter how hard I tried to hold onto the dream, sleep would not find me and bless my wish. Fili sat at the edge of the couch we were sharing for the night, pressing into my legs to wake me.

Laurel.

As always her face was a blur but the ache in my chest that went to sleep with me awoke with me; this time with vigor. It was surprising I woke this time with a smirk.

She actually kissed me.

The memory was still fresh in my mind, almost as if I could still feel her soft sweet lips upon mine. Sometimes I wondered if it were only just dreams. She speaks of how I am merely just an imagination, and everything I do and say is her wishes. If it were truly that way, which we are creating an image of each other, who is to say that she is not just an imagination of my mind? That would simply be unfair. If it were my choice, I would have not had her run from me. We would have been embracing and sharing kisses much sooner.

Not on the last dream I would ever share with her.

“What of Bilbo,” Fili asked, grabbing his weapons and rising to leave. I followed his lead, placing two daggers in my belt and boot and grabbing my arrows and bow.

“All we can do is leave the contract. If he wishes to accompany us, he will find us,” Thorin replied.

Together the lot of us rose and left the hobbit’s home and quietly as we could. It was not my first time meeting a hobbit, though after I met Bilbo, the similarities between him and Laurel were strong. The greed I felt to see her again was almost stronger of that of the need of this quest.  

Just outside The Shire we met a farmer with ponies for hire. Gandalf took lead on his stead and we were off on our quest.

Fili rode in the last of the line of ponies with me. Out of the thirteen dwarves, Fili and I were the youngest. For most of our lives we were raised by Mother, father had passed in battle with Orcs. Uncle Thorin was around for much of our childhood. We were told of the tales of our people and how our home was stolen from us by the fire drake Smaug.

It was only a few months ago that he approached my brother and myself, declaring that he, Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, was going to take back the Lonely Mountain. We promised Mother we would return as princes of Erebor and bring her home.

“Did you see her in your sleep again Brother,” Fili asked softly.

For twenty years, I dreamed of Laurel. I do not know how old she was when I started dreaming of her, but she was very small. Most the dreams I had were of her, doing something ordinary such as chasing butterflies and sliding down snow covered hills on a piece of colored wood of sorts. I watched as she attended a ceremony were all the humans cried and spoke of a man.

Each of these dreams she was unable to see or hear me. It was as if I were invisible.

There were dreams where Laurel was barely clothed, only small pieces covering her. These dreams I had to focus my attention on other things. It was not until she was matured into a woman that I encountered her in a dream, where she could see me and speak to me.

I was amused that she was hunting a deer to feast upon.

From that one encounter, we discovered that each of us dreamed of the other. This encounter led to similar dreams of no talking, but after a while we were able to speak again.

These times in dreams where I could talk to her, understand her and where she comes from, were some of my favorite times. The world that she lived in was one very different than Middle Earth. Each of us had our own questions, very confused of one another.

Over time I came to care for the russet haired maiden. Often times in my dreams I allowed myself the pleasure of braiding her locks and caressing her skin. When I looked into her pine colored eyes, it was if I were already home.

“Yes, I dreamed very fondly of her,” I murmured, “though I am afraid it may be the last.”

A chuckle came from my brother, “It may not. This journey will be long and eventually you will see her again. I am afraid that I am jealous of your maiden that does not exist.”

“Laurel is a true beauty indeed,” I murmured dejectedly, trying to hold onto the last traces of her face that floated in my mind.

“Why do you sound upset,” Fili asked earnestly.

“I think she is a Hobbit,” I muttered.

This brought a hearty chuckle from the blonde warrior.

Bilbo found his way to us, joining the company and continuing on our journey. Once given a pony, the poor fellow already tried to turn back around for a hanky. To say in the least this burglar was not much of an assistance to the quest. He spoke often about how he missed his Hobbit hole and the warm food he often ate on a regular basis. If anything he was more of a bother with his consistent complaining.

All of it made me more irritable due to the lack of sleep that uncle kept us on. Most of the time we were lucky to sleep for a few hours, he wanted to get to the mountain as soon as possible. Though I fully agreed, I wanted to sleep and try to see Laurel once more.

After seven days of travel with no real rest, the company set Thorin straight. Came nightfall the lot of us were camped out with a fire, a nice warm meal, and promised a full nights worth of sleep.

“Kili,” uncle approached me, “take first watch. In a few hours we will have Fili switch with you so that you can rest as well.”

“Yes uncle. I will wake the company if I hear or see of anything suspicious.”

The hill that we found had a pleasant flat bottom to the south that we placed camp in. It also provided for a great vantage point to see from all angles anything that would try to sneak up on us.

I used the time of peace to reflect on the last time I slept and saw her. The ache in my chest returned at the thought, the last I can remember of her face is her pine eyes, everything else blurred into her silhouette. She was so scared of… me. If it were really only just a dream, she was not real, then why would I dream of her fear? I would dream of her desire for me! The fact itself was even more frustrating than Bilbo’s complaining. There has to be more than just a coincidence that I dream of the same woman all these years.

The more I concentrated on trying to envision her face, the sleepier I became. Shortly I felt the drags of tiredness pull me into a soft sleep.

Covered in odd greens and blues, she was walking across sand. The green clothing she wore covered her head and hair. Blue waves crashed against the shore, water tickling her boot covered feet. This was one of the few times she was actually wearing boots.

I even felt the cold of winter’s chill.

Happiness filled me, I had gotten my wish to see her again. It was not as exciting to know that this was not a time of meeting, but I could gaze upon her once more.

When she strode forward, I followed. Not much of anything was happening, it seemed that the walking continued on forever. Suddenly it started to rain. As if I were there, I could feel the cold pelting drops. It did not take long for them to become heavier and more furious. When the quake of thunder exploded around her she turned and started to walk the way she had come.

The water just on the other side of her lit up with the lightning of the sky. Laurel started to run.

I myself was running just so that I would not lose her. The sight of her face was already swallowed by the rain.

Lightning struck, blindingly, just in front of her. Fear grasped my heart.

“Laurel!” My voice was horse and booming, but fell upon deaf ears, almost deaf to my own if it weren’t for the crack of thunder.

She turned to escape the danger, only to be pushed forward into it instead.

A loud crack of thunder awoken me with a gasp.

Laurel, she fell into electrifying lightning.

I looked up into the night sky instinctively to gaze at the storm here.

Something was falling through the air. Was it a bird? As it started to gain momentum the closer it got, I could see it was not a bird at all. It was something much larger. It was coming right for me actually.

With a start I jumped, reckless as I was, holding my arms out ready to catch the oddity.

The force of the drop and thing brought me to my knees, grunting at the impact. With all the gentleness I could bestow I rolled the object into the ground to inspect it.

A familiar ache burst through my chest as I saw a familiar woman. Wearing a worn green short tunic of various hues, and dark blue pants, she was soaked to the bone. Just as I pushed back the hood of her clothing, her russet hair tumbled out. The short breath was stuck in my throat.

Laurel?

“Fili,” my voice bellowed across the valley.

My hands grasped her face, pulling her head into my lap. How could this be happening? Falling into lightning takes you to another world? Voices were vaguely heard coming up the hill. Was she even alive? I lowered my head to her mouth, listening for her breath. A faint inhale and exhale could be heard. Excitement started to bubble up within me.

“Kili, what is it,” Fili asked kneeling down next to me.

A gasp left me, “She fell from the sky.”

“She’s soaked to the bone, we better find a dry space and start a fire for her to warm up,” he whispered urgently. “Do you have her? I’ll go start the fire.”

Her weight was so light, I feared for her health as I carried her down the hill. Gandalf was persuading a fire to life under a cliff where the rain was not so heavy. With some of his powers he allowed a small bubble of clear air. I laid her gently against the ground, and then placed myself behind her with her head against my legs once more. Russet locks were soaked as well, causing me to run my fingers through them.

“Where did she come from,” Gandalf asked.

“Quite literally out of the sky,” I murmured. “I looked up and she was falling, right into my arms.”

“We cannot let this halt our journey,” Thorin muttered as he strode towards all the commotion.

A grunt of sorts escaped me. They would have to have a dragon breathe it’s flames of death upon me before I will leave without her. “Uncle,” I muttered, “we cannot just leave her in this condition. I will not leave her side.”

Thorin crouched down to get a better look at her. Instinctively I wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Even if I did not want it to happen, there is always one being in this world that could stand between her and me, would be him.

“I know who she is,” I muttered.

“If she is one of your whores—”

“Never,” I growled, “she is of another world…”