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fandom-imagines-stories · 9 months

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Over Mountains Cold

Kili Durin x Reader

Words: 4931

Summary: On a quest for your family, you and your traveling companion get caught in a winter storm in the Grey Mountains. Your true feelings for your best friend come to light when you struggle to make it through the chilling night.

Notes: The heater in my room is broken and the image of cuddling with Kili to get warm is just really nice to me, okay? I will use Aidan Turner to dissociate before I contact ever maintenance. (also, why can’t I just write fluff? Why does there have to be the angsty backstory of losing siblings? The world may never know)

Warnings: Kind of a chaotic plot. An ungodly amount of sexual tension. I don’t make the rules.

Fili gave a final wave as he disappeared over the ridge, taking the ponies with him. His brother tried to calm the pit in his stomach. Not only was Fili off to retrieve more supplies alone, but the cold was setting in. If he didn’t make it to the next village by the time the snow started, he would get stuck out here.

Just like you were.

“We should go,” You sighed. “We’ll want to set up camp before it gets dark and I want to search the foothills to the east before the sun goes down.”

Kili looked up at the sky. “It’s going to be a cold night.” Already, his breath came out in puffs from his lips. “Maybe we should stay here until morning. It’s lower, so it’ll be warmer and the snow hasn’t reached us yet.”

You stiffened and turned determined eyes towards him. “I won’t waste any time. If there’s a chance of finding my sisters out here, I’m taking it.”

You waited for him to argue or tell you how foolish you were. Winter was on the horizon and these mountains would be impassable in the coming weeks. But your friend merely gave you a small smile and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Then lead the way.”

You wanted to kiss him. Well, you often wanted to kiss him, but in that moment, with his eyes full of trust and belief in you, no words could express your gratitude. But, coward that you were, you settled for a pat on the arm and an awkward nod.

“Right. Follow me.” You hurried away from him before you could do something stupid.

You’d known the dwarven princes for most of your life. Having grown up near the Blue Mountains, you spent a lot of time with Durin’s folk, listening to their stories, celebrating their festivals, and causing a little chaos with your two closest friends. You couldn’t count the times Kili and Fili had gotten you into some kind of trouble, but surely they would say the same thing about you.

The younger prince walked beside you, telling you legends of ridiculous creatures living in these hills, trying to make you smile. It worked, of course. Between his grin and a bit of theatricality, he never failed to lighten your moods.

Kili was your best friend. He was there for every prank, every adventure, and every heartbreak. When your village was attacked by raiders three years ago, he spent weeks tending to your injuries and trying to hunt down the people who’d hurt you.

That’s when they were taken. Your two older sisters, Maryina and Baeriel. Sometime during the battle, those foul men came to your home and stole them away. You were nearly killed trying to defend them. Everyone told you they were dead. Even your parents didn’t have the heart to keep looking after so long, but you wouldn’t give up. You knew they were alive. Kili was the only one who believed you.

“Do you remember what you told me?” You asked suddenly.

Kili turned his head, hazel-brown eyes bright in the afternoon sun. His brows furrowed with curiosity.

You elaborated. “When I said I was going to find them. I said I’d search the whole of Middle Earth if I had to. What did you say?”

Kili beamed. “I said ‘Well, you’re not doing it without me,’” he remembered. “‘You’d get lost.’”

“Exactly,” you laughed. “And, I do believe that you lead us down more a stray path than I, dear friend.”

“But we always found our way in the end, didn’t we?” Kili grinned.

“That we did.”

The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence with something heavier hanging between you.

Grass swayed with dying breaths, green turned to dry white. Ahead, towering peaks capped with snow loomed like a massive, foreboding gate. You watched them with growing unrest. Kili’s shoulder brushed against yours as you walked as if just to remind you he was there.

The afternoon stretched and yawned. The sun began to hover. With every passing hour, the more the light sank, so did your hopes. Your search in the foothills yielded nothing. Not even the remnants of a possible settlement.

“They aren’t here,” you said. You ran a hand down your tired face, eyes scanning the vast landscape, the mountains at your back. You turned to Kili. “What if…”

You’d come here on a rumor that the raiders who took your sisters had a base in the Grey Mountains. But that’s all you had to go off of- rumors.

“It’s the first day.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “We’ll keep looking.” Kili scanned the dense woods at the base of the mountains, hoping for some signal of smoke or any other sign of life. There was nothing. But he wasn’t going to give up hope and he certainly wasn’t going to let you. “Come, let’s set up somewhere to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “But if you’re saying you need to rest, then I suppose we can pitch the tent.”

He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Last one to the trees gathers firewood,” he challenged. The mischievous dwarf took off before you had the chance to process what he said.

“Hey!” You called after him and ran as fast as your legs could carry.

Usually, the three of you always camped out under the stars, but knowing how cold it would be, you brought a tent to provide a little shelter. But laying there, so close to him, the fabric barrier between you and the night sky seemed suffocating.

It wasn’t the closest you’d ever been, of course. There had even been some nights where you found yourself asleep on his shoulder after a long day or he would doze off with his head in your lap. There was just something about this- something about the two of you enclosed together, alone- that felt different.

You laid completely still, screwing your eyes shut, but your mind refused to rest. The form beside you shifted back and forth, twisting and turning. Kili grunted in frustration and turned onto his back.

“Y/N?” He whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately.”

He blew out a breath. “We should sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. We’ll have to find some food in case Fili gets holed up somewhere.”

You hummed and nodded.

Both of you stared up at the slanted ceiling of the tent, not moving and not speaking. The tension alone chilled you to the bone, making you shudder.

“Are you cold?” Kili asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, because I have an extra fur-”

“Kili, go to sleep.” You huffed, shifting to your side away from him so he couldn’t see the painful want in your eyes.

Kili was more than just your best friend to you. He was your first love, the only person you’d ever loved, really. You’d had suitors in the past ask for your hand, but you declined them all. Your heart was no longer yours to give away. But you could never bring yourself to tell him. He was a prince, after all, and what were you? A nobody.

You blinked away tears and curled up as close to the tent’s wall as possible.

So close together and yet you couldn't feel more distant.

The next day yielded even less results. The further you got into the mountains, the less hope you had that you were going in the right direction. The Eastern Pass took you higher in elevation and further away from Fili with the supplies.

“Wait.” Kili stopped suddenly, putting a hand out in front of you. “Listen.”

You halted, the frostbitten ground shifting beneath your boots. At first, the slight breeze was all you could detect, but as the forest stilled, the subtle yet clear sound of hooves carried on the wind.

And they were getting closer.

“Get down.” You grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled. The two of you tumbled into a bush, losing your balance in your haste. Kili hit the ground. You fell onto his chest, knocking the breath out of both of you.

Kili grimaced.

“Sorry,” you whispered. Your faces turned a similar shade of pink, both trying to hide it from the other.

The familiar thudding against the forest floor increased in speed and volume. From your position, you could just see through the foliage that kept you hidden. Kili craned his neck, blindly trying to get a glance.

“Can you see them?” He asked.

“Shh.”

You kept your head low as you stared out. Watching. Waiting. As the horses neared, you decided there couldn’t be more than three.

“We could take them,” you whispered, looking down. But the sight of Kili lying beneath you, hazel-brown eyes staring up into yours with his hair a mess below him was too much. It sent a burning, twisting feeling through your stomach. You looked back up at the road. “There aren’t many. We could fight and force them to tell us where they took my sisters.”

“Are you mad?” Kili hissed, shifting underneath you. His hips rocked up into yours by accident. He sucked in a breath. “It could be innocent travelers going through the mountains. Or worse, there could be a dozen fighters and we’d be dead in seconds.”

“Since when are you the cautious one?” You scoffed, ignoring his movements and prepping yourself to pounce.

Kili locked his arms around your middle and rolled. He had you on your back before you could stop him, pinning you to the forest floor with his hands on either side of your head.

“Since I’m trying to keep you from getting yourself killed,” he growled.

Relieved that your hips were no longer pressed against his, Kili had put himself in another predicament hovering over your body, his lips mere inches from yours.

It shamed him to think of how many times he’d imagined you like this.

He waited until the riders were past, counting three, just as you said, but they seemed only to be a father and his two children, both under the age of 16. Kili doubted that these were the raiders who had destroyed your home. One of them mentioned something about getting over the pass before the storm, which made him uneasy.

Despite the heat of your bodies, the air was indeed growing colder. Clouds were gathering and a crisp, cool scent hung in the air.

Kili stood and held out a hand to help you up.

You didn’t take it.

“We need to keep moving.”

He swallowed. “We should head back to lower grounds. If we get caught in the pass, who knows how we’ll get out.”

You didn’t look at him. Instead, you continued up the path. “I wasn’t asking.”

Kili walked behind you, neither saying a word. He saw the tension in your back shifting like you were already in battle. He only wished he could relieve at least some of the weight that bore down on your shoulders. Witnessing you in such pain hurt him more than he knew how to express. That, unfortunately, wasn’t the only thing he struggled to put into words.

It had taken Kili long enough to finally admit his feelings for you to himself, but it was taking even longer for him to admit them to you. Fear wasn’t something that usually stopped him- he’d faced trolls and orc packs a dozen times over- but the idea of jeopardizing his friendship with you frightened him to no end.

Still, lying there, pressed against you, had drummed all of those feelings up to the front of his mind. They distracted him from the real issue at hand and he tried to remind himself that you need him focused. You needed a warrior, not a love-sick errand boy.

“If we keep at this pace, we can make it through the pass by morning,” you said grimly.

Kili exhaled, his voice deep with concern. “Y/N, you need to rest.”

“I need to find my sisters.”

You kept walking.

Kili kept his arguments to himself. Starting a fight now would only make you angrier and he didn’t want to risk you going off alone.

He let out a low sigh. Being the responsible one was exhausting.

Kili watched the sun with a concerned eye and discomfort growing in his stomach. His breath appeared in a cloud from his lips. But worse, flecks of white sent panic up his spine. The snow speckled the branches of the pines around them and added to the already thick blanket of frost that coated the ground. The further up, the deeper the snow banks.

“These flurries won’t be flurries for long,” he warned.

“We’ll make it.”

You refused to turn back to look at him. If you did, you knew that one look at his face would make you forget your persistence. You would turn around and head back down the mountain and have to start all over again in the morning. So you kept your eyes ahead, despite the growing shiver down your spine.

Besides, it was only a little snow. You and the brothers had faced worse on numerous occasions.

Kili quickened his pace to take his place beside you again.

“This way,” he said. “I’ve heard a shortcut through this pass.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve heard of one?”

“We’re here based on a rumor, aren’t we?” He retorted.

You shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Kili took the lead as the air thickened with white flakes. The shortcut, while it existed as far as he knew, was not the true purpose of his change in direction. He’d read journals telling tales of adventures through these mountains and he remembered a checkpoint for many. A cave where they could take shelter from winter storms. He only hoped it was real.

You began to regret your stubbornness as the cold seeped through your coat, the snow falling thicker and thicker, decreasing your visibility until you could see but a mere few feet in front of you.

In a blink, the blizzard set in.

You trudged on. Eyes blinded by white, you walk straight into the mass in front of you. Your companion’s warmth drew you in and you couldn’t help but press yourself against his back. His arm wrapped around, searching for yours.

“Take my hand!” Kili called back to you.

You did so without hesitation, wincing at the chilled state of his skin.

“We’re nearly there!” He shouted over the wind.

“That’s impossible! We haven’t even made it through the pass!”

“You’ll see.”

Trust was the only thing you had left, your senses overtaken by the storm. And then suddenly, it stopped. Kili pulled you forward and the choking white curtained the opening of the cave behind you. Wind howled, but no longer deafened.

“You knew this was here?” You gasped through chattering teeth.

Kili gulped. “I hoped.”

“You hoped?”

“You kept going!” He held out his hands, fingers stretched and shaking with his words. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” You ran a hand down your face, wincing at the freezing surface of your own skin, as well as the exhaustion overtaking your features. You paced back toward the blinding white outside. “We’ll stay here until the storm blows over and then we’ll keep going.”

Standing at the opening of the cave, the wind still chilled you to the bone. Still, you watched, as if your sisters would magically appear and welcome you into their warm arms.

As the image passed through your mind, you were gently pulled away from the wind by a hand as cold as yours, and yet it sparked the warmth that you needed. Kili placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his.

“You’re exhausted,” he said. “We cannot afford to be careless. Not out here. We’ll go out again in the morning. You need to rest.” Before you could argue, he added, “We both do.”

With the fog of determination outweighed by fatigue and frost, you sighed in defeat, hanging your head.

“Alright,” you conceded.

Kili put a finger under your chin and lifted your eyes. He gave you a small smile to which you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Come on. We should set up the tent. It might not be much, but it can’t hurt.”

Your chattering teeth gave no argument. There was no wood for a fire, the smoke would fill the small space anyway, so the thin cloth was your only added defense against the cold.

Once inside, you both felt the same pull towards each other, your bodies craving the heat of another. But you stayed on the far side, as far as you could get, mind clouded by icy, frozen fear. Kili didn’t say anything, trying to ignore the ache in his chest as he tried to sleep.

Your eyes couldn’t have been shut for more than a moment when you heard them.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N! Where are you?”

You blinked to clear the tiredness from your eyes and listened.

“It can’t be,” you whispered.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Maryina and Baeriel.

You listened again.

“We’re here! Help us!”

Your sisters. They were out there. They were trapped in the storm. They needed you.

You sat up, tossing aside the coat you’d been using for a blanket and ignored the bitter air seeping through your tunic. You didn’t feel it. You didn’t see your companion sleeping across from you. You didn’t hear the wind as you stepped out of the tent. You only heard your sisters’ cries…

And stepped out into the blizzard.

Kili twisted and turned. As hard as he tried, sleep never stayed. He dozed off only to drift back, trying not to shiver.

“I can’t sleep again,” he sighed. Kili flipped onto his other side. Rubbing his tired eyes, he opened them. The bundle of furs beside him took an odd shape.

Empty.

“Y/N?”

He sat up and reached across the tent, feeling nothing but frigid air. Kili lifted his head, panic banishing any exhaustion left in his limbs.

The untied opening of the tent flapped in the wind.

“Y/N!” He called out.

The storm screamed in response.

He scrambled out of his bedroll and sprinted into the night. Fat, white flakes stuck to his face and eyelashes no matter how much he blinked them away.

“Y/N!” He shouted again.

Kili walked, trying to keep the cave in sight. The blizzard raged around him, concealing even the silhouette of the trees. He cried out your name again and again. With every passing second of silence, his chest grew tighter.

Why would you have gone off alone?

What if something had taken you?

There was no way for Fili to reach the cave until the storm settled, which meant he was completely and utterly alone.

“Y/N!”

It felt like hours before the wind let up and even then, snow continued to fall and the air turned even colder, creeping down Kili’s neck like a thousand icy-legged spiders.

There, in the distance, he could just make out a shape, wandering and covered in a thick, frozen blanket.

Kili ran as fast as his aching legs would allow, his boots sliding on the ice-coated ground. No matter how loud he shouted, it was as if you couldn’t hear him. You trudged on, the snow almost reaching your knees. You didn’t even have your coat. If he didn’t get you out of this cold, you would surely be lost to the white nothingness that surrounded you.

“Y/N, what are you-” Kili moved to grab your arm and found that your eyes were closed. Ice stuck to your face where tears had fallen and your blue lips muttered the same two things over and over again.

“Maryina…. Baeriel….”

Kili’s heart shattered like an icicle falling to the earth.

“Y/N, love, wake up,” he pleaded, gently taking hold of your shoulders. He had to stop himself from recoiling. Even through your tunic, you were like a statue, freezing to the touch. “We need to get back to the cave. I need to get you to a fire. I need to get you warm.”

Already, you looked like a walking corpse.

But your eyes were starting to open.

“K-Kili?” You muttered through chattering teeth. “What’s going on? I’m so…” You stepped forward, falling against him. “I’m so cold.”

Kili didn’t hesitate. He scooped you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest. He followed his own footprints as they were slowly being covered again by the falling snow. By some miracle, he made it back to the cave. He hurried into the tent, wishing he had the material for a fire. For now, all he had was hope.

“I heard them,” you said, still dazed. “I heard their voices calling to me in the storm.”

“And you followed it?” He gasped, quickly undoing the fastens of his coat. “Are you mad? Even if they were out there, you’re no good to them frozen to death.”

Kili shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“No, Kili.” You tried to push him away, but he was stronger, fueled by panic and determination. “Kili, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said harriedly. He tied the entrance of the tent to keep out the frigid wind and laid down, gently pulling you along with him. Kili rubbed his hands up and down your arms, careful to keep the heap of furs wrapped tightly around you. He held you against his chest, his tunic slightly undone so you could feel the heat of his skin against your cheek.

As his warmth broke through the icy surface that suffocated your entire body, your mind started to clear. It started to wake up.

And when it did all you could see was his wide, golden-brown eyes searching yours with a fire you’d seen a few times before. Once when you’d been separated from him and his brother for a week on a particularly stressful journey and the other when your village was attacked and your sisters were taken. Each time, he looked as though he was looking at the sun for the first time.

At the time, you didn’t understand, or perhaps you didn’t let yourself understand. You understood now what that fire meant.

He was, and would always be, your shelter.

Like magnets, you somehow were drawn together still, despite already being impossibly close. The air between you was hot with your breathing. Everything seemed to stand still, from the raging winds outside to the racing heart inside your chest.

Neither of you said a word, an entire conversation held simply in the lock of your gazes.

Kili’s hand cradled the back of your head, laying it against his chest. You felt the soft, sweet warmth of his lips on your forehead.

Despite the hauntings of your mind, your heart gave you leave to rest in the strength and comfort of Kili’s embrace, allowing both of you to slip back into the persistent reach of slumber.

The storm blocked the pass by morning and, without any equipment, there was no way to get over. It had all been for nothing.

Fili found you halfway back down the mountain, the pony’s back covered with more supplies.

“What happened to you two?” He asked.

“We couldn’t find them,” you snapped, hurrying ahead of both of them.

Fili turned to his brother.

Kili shook his head.

Your party of three traveled until you found the nearest tavern and the boys made you stop for the night, watching exhaustion seep into your every step.

Dinner was had in silence with an air hanging so thick that Fili felt he would choke on it. He could never imagine the two of you fighting- he knew that his brother would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. But he also knew Kili’s true feelings towards his best friend and Fili couldn’t help but wonder if something had been revealed while he was gone.

“We’ll start up toward the northern villages in a few days,” Kili said. “It’ll give us some time to rest, regroup, and plan.”

You stared at your plate. “What’s the point?”

Both turned to you.

Kili’s eyes softened. “Y/N, you don’t mean that.”

“They’re gone, Kili.” You blinked back tears. “We could search until the end of time and we still wouldn’t find them.”

“Then to the end of time we will look because I am not giving up,” he insisted. His dark eyes took on that glimmer from last night, igniting something within you.

Your nightmare wasn’t the only thing that frightened you.

“I’m going to my room,” you said, pushing away from the table. Your form disappeared up the stairs with the gaze of both princes trailing after you.

Kili sighed, running his fingers through his long, dark hair.

“You just going to let her go?” Fili scoffed.

“What would you have me do?”

Fili shook his head and took a drink of his ale.

Kili narrowed his eyes. “What?”

His brother raised a brow. “Y/N is the most stubborn, persistent, devoted woman I’ve ever met. She isn’t giving up on looking for her sisters. She’s worried about continuing the search with us.”

“What?” Kili exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Kili, brother,” Fili sighed. “I’m saying maybe my absence was exactly the two of you needed and you’re both still avoiding what I’ve seen for as long as we’ve known Y/N.” He finished off his ale and snatched Kili’s away before he could protest. “Now go talk to her.”

Kili swallowed, staring at the steps. It took one final shove from his brother to actually get him to stand up and move.

As he ascended the stairs, Kili thought about everything Fili had said. What did he mean, his absence was what you two needed? What did he know that Kili didn’t?

Of course, the younger prince knew exactly what his brother meant. He’d always known, even when he didn’t know how to admit it. But waking up in that tent, the panicked thoughts of you out in the storm, alone, the terror of losing you to the ice and snow, and holding you in his arms to keep you warm all revealed exactly what had been in his heart all these years.

He loved you.

Perhaps Fili was right.

Maybe it was time to finally tell you.

Kili found your room and stood before it for a good long while. He tried raising his hand to knock, but he was just… frozen in place.

What if this was a mistake?

What if decades of friendship fell apart in this moment?

What if-

The door opened and his heart stopped.

You startled back at the sight of his big brown eyes. The eyes you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. The ones you wanted to get lost in and never be found. And he was there, waiting for you.

You both opened your mouths to speak and stopped, waiting for the other person, leaving you both in a tense silence. The same tension from the tent. The one that drew you together, closer and closer.

“Kili, I-”

His lips caught yours, silencing the words you still weren’t sure how to say. You let your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, closer still if that was even possible. Every moment, every breath from the last few days had been leading to this. And all either of you could think was one word.

Finally.

And as Fili watched you pull Kili into your room, kicking the door closed behind him, he was thinking the same thing.

“Finally,” he muttered, shaking his head as he went to his room, glad to have it to himself for a change.

Kili’s lips brushed against your forehead, the rest of your body completely tangled with his. Your arms wrapped around his bare chest, your legs wound between his, and your head was tucked under his chin. Your naked skin burned against each other but you never wanted it to stop.

And between every sigh, every pleasured cry or whispered word came one phrase. I love you.

He said it again, now. “I love you.”

You turned to look up at him. Into those eyes. The gaze that captured you more and more every time.

“And I you,” you said, kissing his collarbone, then his jaw, then finally his lips. “I have loved you ever since you taught me to shoot an arrow through the apples on our tree.”

Kili grinned, deepening the kiss and moving so his face hovered over yours.

“I’m still not giving up, you know,” he whispered. “We will find your sisters. And we will do it together.”

You wrapped a brown curl around your finger and nodded.

“I know. Before, I was just… scared.” You turned your head away. “That storm took me to a place I don’t want to go again.”

Kili laid a hand on your cheek, bringing your eyes back to his. “I’ll keep you safe.” He kissed your forehead again. “I promise.”

After letting the seriousness of your words settle for a moment, you grinned mischievously and rolled so that you straddled him.

“We should have tried this sooner,” you smirked.

Kili laughed and rolled again, putting him back above you. “It’s certainly a good way to stay warm.”

#kili #kili durin son #kili the hobbit #aidan turner #fili #kili and fili #kili x reader #the hobbit imagines #fantasy #winter #cuddling

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distinguisheddwarffriend · 6 months

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Peter Jackson should not have been such a p*ssy. If he wanted a love story, no need to invent a character.

Grow a spine and give us the Kili/Legolas you KNEW the world needed and deserved!

#honestly there is so much potential #just imagine thranduil reacting to his son crushing on a dwarf #yes i know i know gimli blah blah #but that's after Erebor has been flourishing for decades again #THIS is such a delicious conflict #“yes adad i have decided to release the dwarves because that one woth the puppy eyes smiled at me and is PRETTY #“no adad we will NOT be a dick about this i want my dwarf”#legolas #kili durin #kili #the hobbit #tolkien #middle earth #the hobbit fanfiction #thranduil #legolas x kili

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mariposiel · 2 years

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Some days, I’m feeling fine, and other days, I remember someone would’ve had to tell Dís that not one, but all three of her remaining family members perished in the Battle of Five Armies.

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lapislazuli-012 · 1 year

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Something really personal but here’s the way I ship them.

*after BOTFA, everyone survived AU*

Sorry I’m just, really bad at writing conversations🤦‍♀️. Some of the scripts I borrowed directly from BOTFA. Everything is good up until this point and yes they’re still BFFs and giving me old-married-couple vibe already.

PERSONALLY, I think even as a couple, neither Thorin or Bilbo is the type that is willing to give up their own way of living to live with the other (at least not right now).

Thorin had been forced out of Erebor at a young age and just recovered his long-lost home. There’s a LONG way ahead restoring Erebor and bringing back his people. He will stumble, he will have doubts, he will question himself things like Am I really ready and Will I be a good king… But he won’t turn away, because he is Thorin son of Durin.

For Bilbo, the journey did change him, still he remains a hobbit at heart and values home above gold and glory. He misses the peaceful life and comfort he used to have though he knows it’ll never be the same, because HE is not the same hobbit anymore. He helped the dwarves taking back Erebor, now he longs for his own home.

(All of these are mere personal interpretations😇)

So since Thorin will not live in Shire and Bilbo won’t live in Erebor for their entire life, the most-likely situations I’d imagine are these…

There will be a point where Fili can somewhat take on the responsibilities of ruling Erebor. Thorin might have some kingly vacation (specifically, working on legislations, approving orders and proclamations at night and travel among the day) and visit Shire sometime.

I realized not a lot of ppl talk about the aging problem, so I tried to talk about it🧌. Hobbits have lifespans similar to Men but Dwarves’ are usually 3 times longer if I recall correctly.

Thank you for reading!

#thilbo #bagginshield #the hobbit #tolkien #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #lotr #fanart #my art #the hobbit fanart #art #drawing #digital art #lotr fanart

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 8 months

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Fairy x Mermaid Hybrid, A Hobbit Imagine

Slowly and gracefully you moved amongst the gold, waiting for the dwarves to be asleep so you could venture in. You didn’t necessarily consider this stealing, you did after all use your magic to save the sons of Durin, so this was more just like a repayment.

Finding trinkets within the sea and on the land was always your favourite pass time. When Thror was King and when Smaug inhabited the mountain you didn’t want to bother with these riches. Dragons were no issue and you had even befriended some but Smaug was too much trouble to bother with. The battle of the dragon against the sons of Durin was definitely a good show.

Scoping your eyes over the treasures, a beautiful box of rings greatly intrigued you.

“Thank you, Thorin Oakenshield.” You whispered to yourself, trying the rings on for size.

“I don’t know why you are thanking me for your own theft.” Came a dark voice behind you, while the cold steel of a blade was pushed against your throat and a strong arm grabbed around your middle.

This position did not worry you, though you didn’t show it often you were stronger than the dwarf king. In this position you could feel Thorins strong embrace and it actually made you a little giddy.

Though it may have been an inappropriate reaction, his actions couldn’t help but make you giggle, the sound of bells mixing with your sweet sound.

“I would not laugh if I were you, lass!” He now shouts as presses you against the wall.

You couldn’t help but look down at him and smirk.

“Thorin! Leave her be!” You heard your old friend Thranduil order as he threw the dwarf king off of you.

Seeing your other more recent friend, Bard, behind the Elvish king, you gave him a little wave as you bit your lip.

“She is stronger, older and more powerful then anyone of us! Show her some respect!” Thranduil shouted at his fellow king.

“Respect her?! She was ste-“

“Thranduil! My darling!” You run over to the elf, interrupting the dwarf king.

Running up to him, you lightly jump and flutter up into his arms. As if on instinct, he catches you as you wrap your legs around his waist. One hand resting on his shoulder and the other carding through his lovely white hair, you can’t help but both smile at one another.

This act of gentleness from the usually stoic elf leaves Thorin shocked. Bard on the other hand, who was used to your antics, simply smiled.

Leaning down to the elf king you both kissed each other lovingly. A quick but passionate kiss shared between good friends who may or may not have spent a few intimate evenings with one another.

“How is your darling son, Thranduil?” You ask the elf king, returning to stroking his hair.

“He is well, starlight. He’s actually traveling at the moment.” He replies calmly.

“Well I might have to see if I can find him and pay him a visit.” You smirk at the king, giving him another quick kiss before jumping down and making your way to Bard.

“Hello, barge man.” You lightly flutter over the gold to him, lightly playing with his hands as you stand before him.

“Hello, little fish.” He smirks down at you, his nickname earning a light slap to the arm.

“Now you’re a king, i no longer see your boat, darling. I am very happy and proud of the king you are but it does make me miss our time together.” You pout up at him, your fingers twirling in his curls.

“I’ll try to make more time for you, little fish.” He leans down and you meet each other in a sweet kiss.

Lightly touching his cheek, your hand finds it’s way down his chest as you walk towards the last king.

Walking over to Thorin, you look down at the frowning and confused king.

“May I have your sword?” You ask him, your fingers lightly touching over the hilt of the sword. Your question earning a snicker from the other two kings.

“No you may not.” He growls and snatching your hand away.

“Oh I’m sure I’ll get a sword from you, king under the mountain.” You giggle at him, tracing along his bearded face before lightly and swiftly kissing his cheek.

Before he could react too violently you stepped away and your wings appeared behind you. Looking even further down on the dwarf king, you giggle at his stunned reaction as you make your way to the high window.

“Goodbye, boys.” You lightly called with a blow of a kiss before you flutter away, leaving two smirking kings and one stunned one.

#fairy #mermaid #fairy mermaid #fairy!reader #mermaid!reader #hobbit imagine #thorin oakenshield imagine #bard the bowman imagine #Thranduil imagine

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imakemywings · 10 months

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The Hope of Love: Eärendil and Elwing as Symbols of Romance in Popular Culture

KEY WORDS: Earendil, Elwing, Pop culture, Third Kinslaying, Sirion, Theater, Art, War of Wrath

Viewing options: AO3 | SWG

One of the most famous love stories in the history of Middle-earth, the quasi-mythical tale of Lady Elwing of the Havens at Sirion, last queen of Doriath, and her husband, Lord Eärendil of Gondolin has captivated popular imagination for centuries. Some of these portrayals are strikingly vivid, reaching to the heart of a young queen facing the destruction of her people at the hands of the Elves of the West, while others appeal to a narrower interest in the notion of the seemingly-doomed lovers overcoming insurmountable obstacles. We have seen everything from epic tales to reference in pop songs [See: Radio-favorite I’m Coming with its second stanza lyrics “Baby I’m falling fast/But our love will last/Baby I’m flying out to you/Hold your ship steady for me”] to more physical reminders of their story [See: Durin’s Jewelers’ pendant replica of the fabled “Phial of Galadriel” said to contain the light of the star of Eärendil. Its eye-watering price tag make it a niche item.]

What is it about this story that continues to draw us in year after year? Perhaps through an examination of the various efforts to tell Elwing and Eärendil’s tale, we can see.

The Play of Mirkwood – We know of the existence of this early play only due to the survival of a single document: a letter from a woman to a close friend. In it, she tells of her recent viewing of this sober tale. While hers is the only confirmation we have of the existence of the play, it would also be the earliest documented telling of the tale. Her story is very believable: it fits with the theory that Oropher, king of Greenwood the Great, and possibly also his son Thranduil, king of Mirkwood, were themselves Iathrim refugees who took shelter east with the handful of their surviving kinsmen after the Third Kinslaying. For them, Elwing’s tale would have been deeply personal to their cultural loss.

According to our letter-writer, the Play of Mirkwood has very few actors and focuses almost entirely on Elwing and her capacity as the last queen of Doriath. Her children do not appear in the play, but are frequently referenced, and her last words evoke a mother’s grief. Eärendil is relegated to barely a side character here, with Elwing’s mourning being largely for her people and her children. This tracks for the creation of a people mourning the death of their kingdom and their culture.

The Rivendell Frieze – Sadly, this frieze is all but ruins. However, a few key elements allowed for historians to eventually come to broad agreement that it depicts Elwing. The faded, cracked image—which must have once been a centerpiece of a likely highly visible installation, as even what remains suggest it was once fantastic in detail—shows a dark-haired woman clad in white, facing the viewer, clutching a shining jewel in one hand. Her location is unclear, due to the deterioration of the paint, but could plausibly be a cliffside.

The location in which this frieze was discovered also hints at the location of Imladris—more commonly known as Rivendell. This would also lean us towards assuming the figure in the frieze is Elwing, as Rivendell was formed and ruled over by Eärendil and Elwing’s son, Elrond. The discovery was a blow to the small minority of historians who continue to assert that Elrond preferred his Noldor heritage to the Sindar, or even considered himself Feanorian. They dispute the authenticity of the frieze as well as the details about its location and construction.

The Gondorin Opera (Title: Eärendil and Elwing) – This was the first effort by Men to retell the story of Eärendil and Elwing. Eschewing much of the politics of the day, the opera makes a love story of the tale, focusing almost entirely on the romance of Eärendil and Elwing. Here, they are childhood companions separated when Eärendil departs in early adolescence to spend time with his Edain kin. When he returns as a young man, he and Elwing fall in love at first reunion.

The later part of the opera centers on Elwing’s desperate flight to Vingilot and their impossible journey to Valinor. It concludes with their celebration in Alqualondë after securing the aid of the Valar.

Rumored to be a favorite piece of altos due to the standout solos available, this play captures a high romance angle of the story, digging deep into the personal feelings of Eärendil and Elwing and their quest for happiness and peace, with far less attention paid to the monumental historical significance of their actions.

Allegedly, it was popular in early performances to cast Hobbits as Elrond and Elros, as they took direction better than actual children. This fell out of favor when such casting choices came to be seen as infantilizing, though opinions differ even among Hobbits.

The Glamben Play (Title: Downfall of a Queen) – One of the most controversial depictions of Elwing in popular history. Here, the young queen is a self-centered and politically-inept scion of a dying dynasty, who out of pride refuses to surrender the Silmaril and by her own fumbling leaves Sirion open to the attack by the Feanorians. Downfall of a Queen fits in a few digs at Elwing’s ancestors as well. In a move fairly roundly condemned by historians, even those more inclined to show sympathy to Feanorian forces, Maedhros here bargains with Elwing for the release of her children for the Silmaril, which she entirely rejects, openly stating she would rather retain the jewel than her children.

�� Several runs of this play have Elwing slipping backwards off the cliff rather than making the decision to jump.

Eärendil himself does not even appear in the play and is perhaps implied to have abandoned Elwing by the end.

Downfall of a Queen has long since run out of whatever favor it had, and is not seen in any reputable theater these days. However, it does represent a viewpoint that at one point, had more traction, and the fight it has been for historians to reclaim the history of Elwing and Eärendil from popular misunderstandings.

The Angwedthor Film (Title: The Tale of Eärendil and Elwing and the Saving of Middle-earth) – This was the first effort to capture the story of Eärendil and Elwing on film, before “talkies” had hit the scene. As such, it is technologically incredibly limited, with a run time of only 40 minutes—and even this strained the finances and capacities of the studio. Some of the artistic license taken here is hard to understand—why, for instance, Elrond is here written as a female child, or why Elwing was given a youthful romantic affair with Gil-galad which motivates his effort to stave the Feanorians off the Havens.

Due to the expenses of the time, the film avoids any large-scale scenes of battle and destruction, and leaps somewhat jarringly from Elwing’s transformation to her and Eärendil’s arrival in Tirion. However, the film made several unique choices heretofore unseen in Middle-earth cinema, such as the crowds which awaited Elwing and Eärendil in Tirion. While historians debate the accuracy of whether or not Tirion would have evacuated on the news that strangers from over the sea had successfully landed in Valinor, it can’t be denied that this was the first time which crowds of this size had been portrayed in media. Furthermore, director Angwedthor went through the laborious effort of liberally showering the set in actual gold dust to give an ethereal, almost divine feel to the scene, and the sparkle of Tirion’s streets enchanted audiences at the time.

Furthermore, the film debuted several new cinematographic techniques which have since become standard in the film industry, although the film itself did not endure in popularity. For several decades, though, it was cherished by a loyal group of fans for the tender charisma between the lead actors, but few copies of it remain.

The Manthor Film (Title: Forever Across the Sea) – Learning from the experience of The Tale of Eärendil and Elwing, here was a stronger effort to capture this famed tale. This film opts to center Eärendil as the protagonist, with Elwing only entering the scene thirty minutes into the film, after Eärendil has already made the decision to begin questing for the Blessed Realm.

It is commonly agreed that the actress portraying Idril steals the first half of the show, despite her relatively few lines. Her powerful presence and guiding hand on Eärendil paint a picture of a remarkable woman and Falcthel’s palpable confidence onscreen bolster the image.

Behind-the-scenes controversy suggests Manthor originally meant to make a more foolish figure of Gil-galad: a dull-witted, self-interested clown who came to the throne only by chance. However, the actor playing him took things firmly in a different direction, presenting Gil-galad as war-weary and wary, though not unsympathetic to the unstable position of the Havens. In the end, director Manthor was so impressed with the gravitas of Goror’s portrayal that he ceded direction on the character to Goror.

Additionally, Tomben’s portrayal of Eärendil is still considered by many to be the best onscreen portrayal of Eärendil of all time. His booming voice and captivating demeanor make it all too believable that his sailors would follow him into the unknown time and time again.

Capping off these mesmerizing performances is Elwing’s final speech to the Teleri of Aman, a moment so fascinating that it has become the basis of many other dramatic confrontations throughout popular media. Almost anyone will recognize the line “I plead my hope,” or even its more extended version “Oh ye of foreign shores, I plead my hope. Let my home not be crushed ‘neath the boot of Bauglir,” even with no familiarity with the film. The passion of Torthoriel’s performance here has brought many a moviegoer to tears and captures a moment few had before bothered with—Elwing’s part in gaining the aid of Aman.

However, despite its artistic merit, this film is loudly criticized for fueling the largely-debunked myth that Eärendil came and went from Sirion multiple times during the course of Elwing’s converse with Maedhros, lord of the Feanorians.

The TV miniseries (Title: Saving Our Shores) – Attempting to reach a younger audience, this 5-episode limited series portrayed Eärendil and Elwing as high schoolers trying to stave off the efforts of Feanorian Oil Refining, Co. to validate some historical claim on the land where the teens’ hometown sits. Due to the characters’ young age, the kidnapping of Elwing and Eärendil’s children was replaced with the poisoning of Elwing’s beloved pet doves. Their backstories as refugees are largely retconned, though Elwing remains an orphan.

The series did not make much of a stir, being largely dismissed as an ineffective effort at “modernization.” The costuming and camerawork, standard at the time, painfully date the series and are contemporarily found laughably lacking in style or finesse. It was also criticized for putting its environmental message ahead of the story of the characters. However, it remains popular with teenagers (possibly in part due to the number of sequences the main characters spend lightly clad at the beach), such that at any given youth costume party, one is likely to observe at least a single young woman wearing Elwing’s signature look from the film: the breezy white sundress and the necklace of cowrie shells (a gift from Eärendil).

A few defenders of the series point to how well it captures the feeling of being up against an impossible enemy and how naturally Elwing and Eärendil’s relationship comes off. It is most remembered for the incredibly catching opening song, as well as a few other effective, limited uses of lyric throughout the series. So much so that it was said to be partial inspiration for the next adaptation in our study.

The Methoril Rock Opera (Title: Blood of the Day) – This is one adaptation people either love or hate (and in some cases, love to hate or hate to love). It makes no claims at being a historical piece and therefore makes no apologies for the broad artistic license it takes.

In this raucous stage performance—which includes, at one point, flamethrowers—Gil-galad sells out the location of Elwing and the Silmaril to the Feanorians in exchange for their recognizing his kingship, a scene which kicks off the story. Other notable stylistic choices include choosing to portray Tuor as a humorous if inept drunkard, the infamous make-out scene with Elwing and one of her female companions which is never raised again in the performance, Idril’s florescent pink mohawk and her somewhat bone-chilling solo “Mother Knows Best,” and the decision to show the Feanorians attacking the Havens with machine guns (one of which serves as Lord Maedhros’ prosthetic hand).

Historians largely disdain the piece, and its merits among the artistic community have been debated since its release, but what one cannot deny is the electrifying discography. Hearing Elwing scream into the microphone about having to choose between her city and her children is hair-raising in the best way, and the electric guitar work in Eärendil and Elwing’s love theme drives home the intensity of their relationship like nothing else. Other standouts include Tuor’s surprisingly touching goodbye to Eärendil before his and Idril’s departure, by far the quietest song of the score, and Eärendil and Elwing’s duet of lament for their lost homes.

What Blood of the Day captures is not the accuracies in detail of Elwing and Eärendil’s story, but the feelings of it. In these blaring odes to electrifying instruments that perhaps should not be electrified, Methoril captures the incredible weight of the feelings that bear on the lovers and their story.

The Helethwen Film (Title: Eärendil and Elwing) – Hopes were not high for this revival piece, with many arguing that we are past the need for further adaptations of this story. However, a number of opinion column writers were forced to eat their words after the debut of this box office-shattering instant classic. Helethwen’s masterpiece blew all expectations out of the water, even those of movie executives who argued that two and a half hours was far too long to engage any audience in a historical piece.

This is the first of any adaptation which begins with Elwing’s flight from Doriath during the Second Kinslaying and which centers her character around this formative trauma. It picks up Eärendil’s story with the trek of the Gondolindrim away from the smoking ruin of their city; they arrive in a Havens at Sirion already established by the Iathrim. The friendship between the child Elwing—initially aloof, but quickly warming up to the amiable Eärendil—and her companion is very believable thanks to stellar performances by the child actors, and the tender romance which blossoms in their late adolescence is sure to soften the heart even of the most cynical viewer.

This film also places the children—Elrond and Elros—firmly in the core of the narrative, with Eärendil and Elwing’s concern for their young family being a significant motivator. During the assault on the Havens, it is Elwing who lures the Feanorians away from the city center in an effort to keep them from discovering her children.

The main criticism of this film comes from the brief confrontation between Lord Amrod of the Feanorians and Elwing, wherein he attempts to rape her. The act never comes close to consummation, but there are voices on both sides, arguing that it accurately captures the violence of war, or that it was a distraction from the core story and unneeded additional victimization of Elwing. At least one DVD release of the film cuts the scene entirely.

There are others who feel Braxton’s performance as Eärendil does not compare with Tomben’s earlier performance, but most still feel that Braxton was a solid choice. Furthermore, Aelil’s electrifying portrayal of Elwing covers over any weaknesses in her co-star’s work. She is undoubtedly the heart of the story, a choice which many critics have cited as key to the film’s success.

Elfie Graphic Novel (Title: Peredhel Tale) – Beginning as a webcomic almost a decade ago, Peredhel Tale kicked off its print run two years back. Wrangling a huge cast of characters, creator Elfwyne (known online as “Elfie”)focuses the core of the story on Eärendil and Elwing, and their developing friendship and romance throughout their time in the Havens at Sirion, but also digs into backstories for supporting characters, featuring prominently Idril and Tuor and their struggles with a mortal/immortal marriage; Evranin’s difficulty in seeing Elwing grow up; and the history of Círdan the Shipwright as well as his relationship with Elwing (he here plays something of a grandfatherly role for her).

Peredhel Tale excels in the details of the story because it has the luxury of lingering on smaller elements that more condensed adaptations cannot. For instance, Elfie dedicates an entire chapter (18 pages) to Eärendil and Elwing’s first meeting on the beach as children. Their unusually adult dialogue in this sequence serves to display how quickly they have been forced to mature, and the difficult and heavy thoughts weighing on them even in the middle of seemingly normal child’s play. Her use of vivid color and bold linework make her style easily identifiable and lend great depth of emotion to her drawings. Her tonal coloring in particular sets the scene before any dialogue has been uttered.

The graphic novel has only issued the first book, which ends while Eärendil and Elwing are still in childhood and dealing with the struggles of their trauma as refugees and future leaders of their people, but the webcomic has gone as far as Elrond and Elros’ fourth birthday. Elfie also plans to include in one of the printed volumes the accompanying short story A Frog for Nana, which focuses entirely on Elrond and Elros, at play in the village and in the surrounding landscape of the Havens.

Much of the content in the story is pure fiction—Elfie goes into detail on things we simply cannot know, such as whether there was anything romantic between Elwing’s nurse Evranin and Gereth, or to what extent Elwing and Eärendil exhibited Elvish traits in spite of their mortal blood—but her author’s notes reveal a copious study of the historical period and frank admissions where things were invented for the sake of the story. Tonally, it remains consistent, and great attention was given to the most accurate depiction possible of life in the Havens, as well as various cultural details of the Gondolindrim and the Iathrim.

Above all, Peredhel Tale is a story of love—between Eärendil and Elwing, between Eärendil and his parents, between Círdan and Elwing, and between the people of the Havens and their city. Elfie never lets the reader stray too far from this core and the result is a deeply humanizing—if not wholly historically accurate—portrait not only of the central couple, but their friends, family, and neighbors. Scholars on this subject may wish to subscribe to future updates of Peredhel Tale to see how Elfie handles the Third Kinslaying and the voyage to Valinor.

Conclusion

What do all these things tell us about the story of Eärendil and Elwing and its place in society? First, it shows us that there is an enduring interest in a good love story—platonic or romantic—and that Middle-earth never loses its thirst for a tale of hope. Seeing characters onscreen, on stage, or on the page who have lost everything pick themselves up and carry on, find new purpose in life, can be comforting for us. There is something reassuring in seeing that, thousands of years ago, people loved and despaired and hoped just as they do now. It is a connection with ages long gone and an affirmation that we are all people—historical figures included.

Second, it illustrates the effectiveness of using a personal story to illustrate a historical event. The horror of the Third Kinslaying remains shocking and potentially overwhelming even today. The wanton loss of life as well as the wholesale cultural destruction from which the Iathrim never recovered is painful even now. Indeed, the tale of Elwing may be seen as the last gasp of the Iathrim, reaching through the years to remind us that they were here. However, it can be difficult to grasp the magnitude of such things. Wrapping it up in the personal story of Eärendil and Elwing’s struggles and tragedy drive it home in a way that facts and figures do not.

Most of all, it tells us that their story remains relevant even in our times and that we still find hope in their struggles and successes. Eärendil and Elwing are still speaking to us, and perhaps in listening, we are reaching back to tell them that their sacrifice matters. We may feel that these stories tell us we are not alone—but perhaps we also seek to tell them that they are not alone, either.

#earendil #elwing #starwing #the silmarillion #rocky writes #tolkien tag #fanfiction #tolkien fanfiction #fake academia

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rings-of-power-realm · 6 days

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GUYS IM REALLY NOT OKAY😭😭😭 I never excpected Valandil to die I'm so sad and the way Elendil held him it was like losing another son. I loved the Numenor drama this week and that Earien and Kemen had way more to do. Slight negative but it really showed how much I'm not into the harfoots this season I loved them in season one (and I still adore the stranger and Tom) but Nori and Poppy have taken up a lot of time and although I love when they met the stoors I hope that they won't be in it quite as much so we get get to the meat of this story like proven today. Please don't get me wrong I love Nori and Poppy but I much preferred the harfoots story in S1 though I'm definitely not an anti about them lol. Charlie is SLAYING as Annatar his little smiles and manipulation is terrifying to behold. What a beautiful demon lol and when Mirdania saw that vision but he just continued to act like an angel HE IS FIRE. Love seeing Durin and Disa always and him seeing his father succumb to the ring is so sad. I'm just totally blown away that episode was full of emotion and tension a showcase for the very best episodes of their beautifully detailed show. Everything looked gorgeous as always and I also loved when they spoke about the far green country 😭💚 Phenomenal. My weekend is booked making every gif imaginable now for this and the other eps lol

#tropspoilers

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faeriichaii · 25 days

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hii!!

i was wondering if you could write kili x gn!reader where the reader wants to braid kili’s hair and they have no idea what that means to dwarves and kili lets them braid his hair. later the other dwarves notice and tease kili about it cause he’s clearly in love with the reader.

thank you sm<33

Braiding Lessons ~ Kili x Reader

A/N: Omg Kili request!!! I love him and I am such a sucker for this plot!! so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do omg!! Also funfact but I almost deleted everything that I wrote during my roadtrip cause I was so unsatisfied with it ;-; Which is probably why it took me so long to actually publish it yikes

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.0k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋAmrâlimé ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: You always knew dwarves had various beautiful braids, but how come Kili doesn't? So one night you decide to change that and help him out.

You tilted your head to the side, as you let your eyes skim over the various dwarves, whom you were accompanying on their journey. Being the only human, surrounded by one hobbit and several dwarves definitely let you notice a few differences about their culture to your own. For example, they could eat almost double their size almost as if they have two stomachs. They also tend to not care much about their appearance. Except of course their beards and hair in general. They take care of it almost as if their life depended on it. One detail that definitely stood out to you were the different braids that decorated each of them. You remember once staring at Fili, while he undid his small beard braids just to redo them.

“How come dwarves always have braids in their hair?” You once asked him. He smiled at you and continued weaving his fingers through his hair. “Braids are very important to us dwarves. Which is why we rarely let others touch our hair.”

Ever since that day you have noticed the intriguing designs and ways each of the dwarves intertwined their strands. Except for one. Kili was the only dwarf who seemed to be lacking any kind of braid and you have been wondering why that is. You also once asked Fili about it but he wouldn’t answer you. Maybe he doesn’t know how to braid? And he is too embarrassed to ask others for help? Observing Kili, who was laughing along his brother to some jokes, you quickly let that thought settle in your mind. He doesn’t know how to braid and you were determined to change that.

So later that afternoon you bribed Fili to change his night shift with yours (which cost you a few of your travel snacks), in order to spend some time with Kili. You wanted to teach him how to braid and due to the fact that it is quite a sensitive topic to dwarves you wanted to make sure that nobody else would notice the two of you. So as soon as the sun set and the snores of your companions filled your ears, you made your way to Kili. He was perched upon a log which was behind the campfire that slowly burned down. His hands were carefully crafting something delicate, which you didn’t quite see in the dark. “What are you working on?” You asked him, taking a seat beside him. His gaze swerved from the item between his fingers to you. A smile graced his lips.

“It’s a surprise.” He quickly put the item into a small pouch that was secured to his pants. “I thought Fili was supposed to be my night-watch-partner?” “He was but I wanted to switch with him.” A smirk formed on his lips, before he put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case I will make sure that this will be the best night of your life.” Blushing at the double meaning behind his words, you tried to separate your body from his. Of course, not because you didn’t enjoy him being so close to you, but because you were in desperate need of some cold air to cool you down and sort through your thoughts.

“I just wanted to ask you if I could braid your hair.” A dumbfounded expression accompanied by a gentle blush fell over his face. “I know you probably were just embarrassed to ask any of the others for help when it comes to braiding your hair and knowing that you don’t know how to I just-“ His laugh interrupted your rambling. “You think I can’t braid my hair?” You nod. “(Y/N), that is one thing we dwarves get born with. No dwarf in this world knows how not to braid hair.” “But why do you never braid yours? Fili told me they were incredibly sacred and important in your culture.” A blush dusted his cheeks as he stared into the campfire.

“Simple. Nobody has asked to braid my hair before.” Your hand moved to his and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “But I just asked to braid your hair. So please, let me take care of you.” He smiled at you and moved one leg over the log so his whole body was facing yours. You let your fingers comb through his soft hair a few times, before taking a strand and dividing it into three sections. Weaving your fingers through the wafts, you made sure to be gentle while also ensuring that there won’t be any bumps or strands sticking out of your small braid. After you have reached the end of his hair, you took out one of your slim leather straps and tied it at the end. Your gaze wandered from the braid to Kilis eyes and you realized how close the two of you have been this whole time. “Thank you Amrâlimé. You have no idea how much this means to me.” You let your gaze wander to your hands in your lap while a shy smile graced your face. “Of course. I am glad you like it.” Kili put his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. A bright smile framed his face. “Now it is your turn.”

The next morning the company as well as you quickly packed up their belongings to get back on their journey. While talking with Balin about some of the dwarvens history, you suddenly heard a gasp from behind you. “You never told me about this Kili!” Fili held up a braid between them both. “When did this happen?” “Last night while you-“ “What is going on back there?” Thorin asked, slowly approaching the princes. “Kili finally got his braid! Probably by someone he seems enamoured with.” Fili teases, while letting go of his brother’s hair. A blush dusted Kilis cheeks, as well as your own as the words settled in.

“Was about time they tied the knot.” Dwalin let out a boisterous laugh at Balins words. Tilting your head to the side, you moved your attention to Kili. “What does he mean by that?” “(Y/N) doesn’t even know? You didn’t even explain it?” Fili asked, flabbergasted at the newfound information. “I hadn’t had the time yet.” Kili turned towards you and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. “But I will explain it to you when the time is right.” His radiant smile was enough reassurance for you. You will wait, until he is ready to explain the meaning behind the dwarvish braiding custom.

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rachelillustrates · 25 days

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A thought on the nature of the line of Durin in "Rings of Power."

(Cause as much as I'm enjoying the show so far, this is one sticking point I need a head canon to get around.)

I am a big fan of the idea of Durin's reincarnation, and obviously the showrunners are not going in that direction - with both Durin III and Durin IV alive at the same time.

However, who is to say that a mistake wasn't made? As in, when Durin IV was born, he looked just as much like Durin I as his father did, and in the confusion, it was decided to title him as Durin, too, just in case. Perhaps also, the belief in Durin's reincarnation isn't completely widespread across all Dwarven culture - not accepted as True, by all, that is. In which case, imagine the infighting that's happening between the factions, over this discrepancy. By Mahal, perhaps Durin III himself is among the non-believers, and perhaps a bit of a shit, so maybe even he himself chose to name his son the IV just to stir things up.

In which case, after his and his son's passing, and after another child of the line of Durin is born looking just like the original, perhaps it is decided to make an addendum. Unsure of which was really the right Durin IV if the reincarnation lore is True, Durin IV as we see him in "Rings of Power" was then noted in history as Durin IV (one) and this new child, Durin IV (two). And we shall assume, of course, that this Durin grew up and lived relatively quiet, so the discrepancy would not have been noted as much by non-Dwarven eyes.

(Not sure if this will help anyone else, but it is certainly helping me.)

#wrote this a bajillion ago and forgot to post it #lotr #dwarves #rings of power #HAPPY ALMOST SEASON 2 EVERYONE!!#lotr meta

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larkbunny · 2 years

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I LOVE your Lady Dis!!! I think she's WAY more demonstrative than Thorin with her feelings, and is one for hugs and kisses! Having lost so much of her Family ( good thing she still has her Older Brother and her Sons! Of COURSE she does ) she makes sure to let everyone know how much they're loved! And I think she likes to embarrass Thorin and her Boys by it! ( she is bigger and stronger than her Boys so they can't get away, but secretly they LOVE getting loved on by their Amad! ) Thank you for sharing this with us!

Thank you for the sweet words! I'm glad you like her. I know she's the one who keeps the joy in the family, someone needs to offset Thorins brooding and I imagine Kili takes after her.

I saw this last night and wanted to make something new with her involved. So here, please enjoy a Durin family portrait.

#Dis feels so important to me #The way I imagined her is actually inspired by a woman in my own life #so I'm glad that people seem to be taking to her ☺️#the hobbit fanart #the hobbit #duriin #dis #thorin oakenshield #fili #kili

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sotwk · 2 years

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The Story of Thranduil's Great Losses

My overarching theory about Elvenking’s broken heart is that he actually lost multiple family members over the course of the Third Age, in events borne about by the spawning of evils from Dol Guldur and the resurgence of the orcs in lands close to Mirkwood.

However, the biggest loss that hit him hardest was that of his beloved wife. Prior to being softened by marriage and fatherhood, Thranduil must have been a bit difficult to get along with. Based on his portrayal in the The Hobbit trilogy, we can picture him as arrogant, cocky, snobbish, stubborn, impatient, hot-tempered, and carrying the emotional and mental damages of war. Remember that he witnessed the Sacking of Doriath, one or potentially two Kinslayings, the War of Wrath, and likely one or two of the great Elven wars in the mid Second Age. (I’m not listing the War of the Last Alliance here because I think he was already married at that point.) Essentially, he was a grumpy, battle-hardened soldier who just wanted to live the rest of his life on Middle-earth in peace and free of care.

Eventually, he met an elleth who not only saw the goodness and kindness behind these flaws, but helped him temper his demons. She understood and respected his desires but also inspired him to fulfill his potential as a great ruler. With their union, they helped each other grow and under their rule the Woodland Realm flourished and thrived for about a thousand years into the Third Age.

And then, sometime around TA 1000, the Necromancer (aka Sauron) came to Amon Lanc and set up shop, turning it into the cesspool that is Dol Guldur. Thranduil’s blissful existence began to crumble from then on, slowly but surely.

Almost two thousand years later, he was still working hard to serve his people and sustain his kingdom which was being plagued by the Necromancer’s evils, even after he'd lost the beautiful home he and his wife built together and raised their children in. In his fight against the Enemy, he lost dear friends and even his own children (who, or how many, I will not say, because I have yet to write those stories!). The fact that an estranged Legolas was the one left remaining to him by the events of The Hobbit speaks to the extent of his personal losses.

After TWO THOUSAND years of enduring this decline, injury, and strife, can you imagine what a blow it was to him when, due to one weak, unguarded moment, Thranduil failed to protect his Queen and she died?

How did it happen?

Honestly, I am still working out the specifics in order to write a story about it, but in the meantime, I have some notes to share.

If we choose to subscribe to The Hobbit movie’s claim that the Elvenqueen died in Gundabad, (which I do, loosely, in my own headcanon history for the SOTWK series I am building), a logical time when this might have occurred was in TA 2793 during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs and the Second Sacking of Gundabad.

My belief is that the Elvenqueen was not a fighter, because her husband was already a renowned warrior who commanded a formidable army, and a more practical and fitting role for her would be that of a healer, ready to tend to her King and sons should they suffer injury. Elves who are healers generally avoid combat, because as Tolkien’s “Laws and Customs of the Eldar” states: “the dealing of death, even when lawful or under necessity, diminished the power of healing” (from “The History of Middle Earth").

Details of about how the Elvenqueen’s death occurred include my following assumptions: (Bear with me, because a few are leaps and stretches of imagination, although still logical in my mind.)

The Elvenqueen was Noldorin and a dwarf-friend, similar to Celebrimbor or Elrond (in Rings of Power). Since dwarves helped build the underground halls as seen in The Hobbit, a congenial relationship must have existed between Thranduil’s house and the dwarves of Durin’s Folk. I believe the Queen was the source of this, being a friend to Thrain I (ancestor of Thorin Oakenshield).

In TA 2770, when Smaug besieged Erebor and turned the Dwarves into nomads, Thranduil refused to give them aid (for reasons I can discuss at a later time--but I have a theory for this too!). At the time, the Elvenqueen was residing elsewhere and was unable to prevent this.

Twenty years later: Wanting to make up for past mistakes, the Elvenqueen persuaded her reluctant King to send a portion of their army to fight on the Dwarves’ side, arguing that the orcs are also their people’s sworn enemy. (Does the argument sound familiar? Maybe that’s why Thranduil found Tauriel so aggravating!)

The Elvenqueen accompanied Thranduil to the first assembly of the forces, to facilitate the interactions between her hot-headed husband and a still-angry Thrain II (Thorin’s dad).

After a few battles had been fought and won, Thranduil convinced his wife to return home. She was to be escorted by Elven warriors and taken by a safe route provided by the Dwarves, but due to either betrayal or faulty intelligence, the Elvenqueen was instead ambushed and captured by orcs and taken to Gundabad.

Learning of this, Thranduil rode to her rescue and engaged the forces of Gundabad in battle. But his efforts were in vain because the Queen had already been slain; the orcs had no intention of returning her and had merely tried to set a trap. All Thranduil found was her lifeless body, and he never had a chance to say goodbye.

It was Thranduil’s rage that cleansed Gundabad of orcs during that war. (Take his fight scenes in the movies and multiply by the fury of a thousand suns.) However, once this was done, he took his army home, refusing to continue fighting the rest of the six-year war. He blamed the Dwarves’ negligence for his wife’s death, which led to the open hostility between his and Thrain/Thorin’s houses.

Thranduil’s anger was so well known (and feared), that Dain Ironfoot (who wasn’t even there!) later made the movie claim “he wishes nothing but ill upon my people” and called Thranduil a “faithless woodland sprite”, in reference to him not completing his participation in the war.

At the time of the Elvenqueen’s death, Legolas was already over 2,000 years old, so when Legolas tells Tauriel “there is no memory”, he means a grieving Thranduil likely discouraged any mention of his dead wife in his presence, songs of her are not widely sung, and images/memorials of her are scarce. “There is no grave” could mean that she was perhaps buried somewhere secret, not easily accessible, or not a typical resting place for elves. Thranduil's grief was just too deep to bear this.

#thranduil #thranduil fanart #thranduil oropherion #king thranduil #thranduil fanfiction #the elvenking #legolas #thranduil wife #the elvenqueen #the hobbit #lee pace #thranduil headcanon #lotr headcanon

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vee-vee-writes · 2 years

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I Need a Hero (Thorin x reader)

A/N: Potentially going to make this into a series if people are interested. Also I have finished a part 2 to Floral Arrangements but I am stuck away from my usual PC so it will be a week or so until I get it up sorry.

You’d heard tales of a lost prince trapped within his mountain home, guarded by a fire breathing dragon. Legend said that the one to free Prince Durin would be blessed by Mahal himself to eternal happiness and all the other joys a dwarf could imagine. It was then of no surprise to you that the remining Dwarf Lords sent their sons and daughters to free the dwarven prince. None were successful and no word had been heard from them since.

What shocked you was your Lord’s command, sending you to try to recover the prince. You were a member of the royal guard, but you certainly weren’t the most notable of the guard by any means. Going would be a death sentence but refusing your Lord’s request was treason of the highest degree. With heavy reluctance you undertook the two-day journey to Erebor.

You found yourself at the foot of the mountain, wondering if this place would be your tomb. A cold stone mausoleum. With your mule tied down you made your way to the makeshift rickety wooden bridge up to the entrance. The original stone bridge and much of the entrance had fallen away, whether to time or the dragon’s rampage you were not sure. From the size of the hole in the entrance, you assumed that the dragon had smashed through it on the day of the siege. To survive this, you would have to have your guard up.

Creeping forward through the entrance you began to survey the interior entrance, looking for some sign of where you should go. Your Lord had shown you an old map of Erebor from during its heyday. Amongst the litter of broken stones, melted metal, and scattered skeletal bones you saw what looked to be a large stone sign laying amongst it. Scanning around you saw no sign of life. Taking this as a sign you stealthily crept over to read it. MARKET. THRONE ROOM. GREAT HALL. LIVING QUARTERS. ROYAL WING – were all marked out on the sign. Your mental map of the mountain layout was somewhat correct, you would need to head down the left-hand tunnel to the royal wing. The entrance to the wing was further back in the room,

Heading to the left wing you began climbing over a pile of rubble to get through the entrance. The material was like nothing you had ever felt before, firm underhand and unshifting. It was not until the pile moved, letting out a chuckle that made you freeze in place. “Of all the witless fools who have entered my mountain, never have I had one practically walk into my jaws” the pile puffed in amusement. Scrambling off to the other side and tumbling to your feet in the hallway of the beginning of the royal wing you began to run. “Flee, flee, run for your life, there is nowhere to hide from my fiery death.”

The pile had not been a pile at all but the great dragon Smaug who had cloaked himself in shadows. Looking over your shoulder as you fled you looked on in horror as the dragon began to force his body through the doorway, cracking the stone to fit his bulbous body through. Facing forward once again, you squeezed your eyes shut and mustered all the strength and will within yourself to continue faster without looking back, skidding around corners without slipping over.

After an eternity of running, you came before a door at the end of the long corridor. You heard the dragon in the distance behind you, wriggling its body down the corridor like a great wyrm. Not wanting to take the chance that he may catch you, you pushed the great oaken door open and slipped in.

The golden torch light took you off guard, you hadn’t expected to actually find the prince let alone find him by mistake. A large spacious suite was laid out before you, completely untouched by the devastation you’d seen in the entrance way. On one of the couches staring at you in awe was a dark haired and bearded dwarf of substantial build and handsome profile. You were unsure of what to say to him.

It was he who broke the silence, “Sixty-years. Sixty-years I have not seen another living soul though I have heard the echoes of their screams. Thank you, I am indebted to you. Who may I call my hero.” Smiling warmly at the young prince you answered his query, “I am (Y/N) of (Y/K/N). I was sent by my Lord to recover you your highness.” “(Y/N)” he tasted the syllables of your name on his tongue, “a noble name.” Never had you heard of a noble of your name but for the sake of argument you agreed, you would need the co-operation of the prince if the two of you were to survive.

“Tell me (Y/N)” he paused, “how did you slay the beast?” A loud grumbling roar reverberated on the stone surrounding the pair of you, the dragon neared. Thorin stared at your slacked jaw in disbelief. “You didn’t slay the dragon! The prophecy says you are supposed to slay the dragon before you rescue me” Thorin snapped, “no, no, no, this is all wrong.” “We don’t have time for this your highness. We have to go” you pleaded motioning to the window, "or do you want to be stuck here for another sixty years." Pulling his lips back in a snarl Thorin grunted, “you’ve given me no choice. What’s your plan?” “Where does this window lead?” you questioned. “The courtyard after the entrance. It was built to wow our foreign visitors.”

“Exactly where we need to be. If that doesn't work, we head for the secret tunnel. That's our escape. We just have to avoid the dragon until we reach it. I doubt he knows of its existence.” You mused. “Secret tunnel?” Thorin questioned doubtfully. “Mmhm. Built by Thror when he founded your mountain home and kept secret from all but his heir. I’m surprised that he never told you of it. Though I’m sure when it came time, Thrain would have told you all the Kingly secrets of this place” you affirmed to Thorin, “come now, enough talking. Let’s tie the sheets together and escape your stone prison.”

The two of you worked quickly together knotting sheets, cloak, and shirt alike to make a long enough chain to escape the tower. You scaled the tower first, checking for any sign of the dragon before beckoning the prince down. Neither of you dared call out for fear of alerting Smaug to your scheme. Instead, you crept into the airy silence, staying low to the ground out of fear of being spotted.

The longer the two of you crept in silence, the more worried the two of you grew. It was the clatter of golden coins bouncing off the stone floor beside you that shook the two of you. Simultaneously your eyes met the prince’s, both wide as dinner plates, before gazing up to the dragon's belly above you as he slunk through the castle.

The two of you lay prone on the floor mapping out the course the dragon was taking. Crawling close to Thorin you pressed in against his side and leaned over to whisper into his ear, "We follow the dragon. Keep low, keep quiet. It's heading in the direction we need to go." Thorin nodded in response and the two of you headed off, crawling after the dragon.

You crept like that for what felt like hours, scared even to breathe too loudly, and alerted the dragon to your presences. Finally, the dragon stopped just before the gate, staring out over the nearby land, likely surveying for the two of you. Thorin nudged you and gestured at a cove of rock that the two of you could cover in. With a firm nod the two of you made your way over and got comfy, waiting the dragon out. It would be easier to wait him out than it would to make for the hidden entrance now.

Though it seemed that Thorin didn't quite have the same idea. Instead, the darrow grabbed a huge hunk of broken rock, vaulting it as far as he could back into the entrance way before quickly hunkering in with you. Smaug's head snapped around to the source of the sound and he began to stalk across towards it. Neither of you had expected was for the dragon to pause before whipping around and breathing molten fire across the entrance way debris. With a satisfied smirk he turned back around and stomped down the hallway, disappearing around the corner into the darkness.

"What now" Thorin whispered harshly. "We could have waited him out" you grumped with a pointed look, "but now we have to find another way up and out around the fire." Thorin sighed with a defeated look and nodded, gesturing for you to take the lead. "Move as fast as you can while still being quiet. The last thing we want to do is tip the beast off to our location, he's already suspicious of us" you affirmed before taking the lead out towards the flaming gate.

You scanned frantically around the entrance looking for a way around the flame. Thorin gripped your shoulder, "focus." Drawing a deep breath, you narrowed your focus. Homing in on the wall you found an old half rusted chain fixed to one of the walls. "That's our way out come on."

A tug on the chain caused it to groan but it stayed fixed in place. Signaling upwards you spoke to Thorin, "You first. I'll stay down here and keep looking out as you climb." "Let me get this straight, you want me, the crown prince, to climb an old, rusted chain up a forty-foot wall hoping that a) I don't fall and b) that I don't get spotted by a fire breathing drake that you failed to kill" Thorin huffed. Smiling sarcastically, you answered, "exactly. Now unless you want to be stuck here even longer, get up the wall. Besides there's no guarantee that the chain will hold two of us."

Rolling his eyes at you Thorin begrudgingly took the chain and began scaling the wall. On edge you clenched your teeth, scanning for any sight of the scaly magot. Groaning of the chain caused your breath to catch in your throat. While you wanted the prince out of the mountain and safe, you hardly wanted to be stuck within the mountain crawling around looking for another way out while the dragon stalked around looking for you. You leaned tensely against the wall, begging your body and mind to calm themselves for the sake of your survival.

The familiar clink of a coin hitting the concrete shot you out of your thoughts, though this time it bounced and rolled to land off to your side. Frightenedly, you cast your eyes upwards only to find Thorin at the top of the wall trying to signal he was ready for you to make your way up. Grabbing the chain you began the climb, hauling yourself up your limbs groaning as the tension was forcefully stretched out of them. Higher and higher you climbed, stopping only briefly to steady your grip on the vertical drop. All the time you stared upwards to the top of the wall, meeting the prince's anxious gaze.

Nearing the top Thorin reached an arm down to you, helping you over and up on the top of the exterior wall. The two of you smiled briefly at one another as he helped you up to your feet. You watched his face change as he looked out over the remains of Dale and the changed wilds. Most would have turned their noses up in horror, but Thorin gazed on in wonder, the edges of his mouth turning up into an appreciative smile. He hadn't seen the outside world since the Sack you realised. You knew it was only a small gesture, but you laid a comforting hand on his, stroking his palm gently. Thorin looked at you tenderly, taking in the touch of another being and the sight of your hand within his. "Welcome back to the world Thorin Durin."

Taglist: @awkwardspontaneity @midearthwritings @thewhiteladyofrohan @kami-chan1512 @fizzyxcustard @kpopgirlbtssvt @sadndnboii-reads @tschrist1 @shethereadinghobbit @lathalea _@theblogofdurin @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @ferns-fics

#thorin #thorin x reader #thorin fanfiction #young thorin #thorin oakenshield #prince thorin #thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x you #prince thorin x reader #thorin and company #thorin fic #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #hobbit #shrek inspired???#the hobbit fic #lotr

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