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alavestineneas · 1 year

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King's will

pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x OFC

summary: In the game of chess, the queen has more freedom on the chessboard. In that sense, the queen is the most powerful piece. On the other hand, the king has more value. Because if you lose the king, you lose the game.

warnings: arranged marriage, medieval violence, slow burn

chapter 1-> chapter 2-> chapter 3 -> chapter 4 -> chapter 5

Winter of the year 123 AC,

King's Landing

Lord Tyrell sat on the established stool, trying not to portray any signs of worry. He was playing a dangerous game that could cost him his head. He glanced around, meeting the stare of the King's Hand. Tyrell nodded at him, diverting his gaze to the entrance. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing King Viserys. Filis quickly stood up, followed by Otto and Prince Aegon.

''King Viserys the First,'' the guards announced, closing the door behind the royal figure. The room fell silent as King Viserys walked towards his seat, his regal presence commanding respect from all those present. Lord Tyrell's heart raced, knowing that the fate of his family and his allegiance hung in the balance of this meeting.

''You may be seated.'' King Viserys gestured towards the chairs, indicating that everyone should take their seats. ''Lord Tyrell, what a pleasure having you back at court. Got tired of the flowers, eh?"

Lord Tyrell forced a smile, concealing his nerves. "Your Grace, it is an honour to be in your presence once again. I assure you, my return is solely driven by my unwavering loyalty to the crown."

''Sure, sure. But let's not waste any more time with pleasantries. What is the matter demanding my attention?" The king's tone grew serious.

Lord Hand coughed before starting. ''Your Majesty. As a Hand of the King, my duties include creating alliances to strengthen the Crown. And now, when Prince Aegon is a man grown, I am glad to propose the marriage of Prince Aegon and Lady Marcella Tyrell. This union would not only solidify our alliance with House Tyrell but also bring together two powerful houses, ensuring a prosperous future for the realm.''

The king leaned back on his stool, considering Lord Hand's proposal. "Does your House approve of the offer, Lord Tyrell?"

''It will be a tremendous honour to my House, Your Majesty.'' Lord Tyrell replied with a respectful bow.

''Aegon?" The king asked, turning his attention to the Prince. His son's face portrayed nothing but boredom.

"Of course, Father," Prince Aegon said with a wry face. "I am willing to fulfil my duty to the realm," he added, though his lack of enthusiasm was evident.

The king sighed. "It is settled then. House Tyrell and House Targaryen shall unite for the betterment of the realm." He glanced at Lord Tyrell. "Prepare for the betrothal ceremony, and let us solidify this alliance."

Lord Tyrell nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. "It shall be done, Your Grace. It shall be done."

Marcella's carriage was nearing the Grand Sept. The building stood proudly, surrounded by immense crowds of cheering people. Royal weddings were rare here; the last one was almost ten summers ago. As she gazed at the grandeur of the Grand Sept, Marcella couldn't help but wonder how her mother felt on her wedding day. Was she happy or frightened? Lonely? They didn't get the chance to talk about it. The Gods were cruel sometimes.

Elize will not attend the wedding; she is staying in Highgarden and watching little Edwin. Marcella did not know if she wanted to see her. Although Marcella had always wanted the best for her sister, she couldn't help but feel a tinge of envy. She was to be wed to a prince, sure, but Elize got to marry whomever she chose. Marcella couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for the freedom Elize possessed. It was a bittersweet reminder of the choices Marcella herself had never been able to make. To stay home, in Highgarden, by her father's side.

As Marcella gazed out the window, she shivered, unsure if the chill in her bones was a result of her thoughts or the icy gusts that swept through the open air. Despite the discomfort, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the distant horizon, where hundreds of common folk gathered to catch a glimpse of the royal bride. The gown was rich but did not retain the warmth of her body. It was white and gold—nothing like her favourite ones. Marcella longed for the familiar comfort of her dresses, adorned with vibrant colours and intricate patterns. She yearned to feel the soft fabric against her skin, a stark contrast to the stiff and unfamiliar garment she was currently wearing.

The carriage stopped. Marcella's heart raced as she took a deep breath, preparing herself for the momentous occasion that awaited her. The door opened, revealing her father's smiling face. Marcella jumped to hug him. She fought the tears with all her might, but a couple managed to get on his green doublet.

''Oh, it is all good, Cella. I am so proud of you, darling," her father said, wiping away the tears from his daughter's cheeks. "Or should I call you Your Majesty now?'', he joked.

Marcella laughed, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Not just yet, Father," she replied with a playful smile. "But soon enough, I hope." She glanced back at the carriage.

''Well, we have to hurry, do we? Those dragons are a hell of beasts.'' Her father stretched out a hand for her to grab. They were entering the Grand Sept.

There he stood, in white and gold, matching her. It suited her spouse better, however. Their eyes met, the light from the stained glass windows reflecting in his. A Targaryen Prince. Now, her husband.

Marcella let go of her father's hand, squishing it lightly. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. As she approached the altar, she couldn't help but feel anxious. This was the moment she had been preparing for her entire life—to become a princess and join one of the most powerful families in Westeros.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection," a creaky voice of the Grand Septon announced.

The velvet cloth hit her bare shoulders, sending shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes, savouring the weight of the cloak as it settled around her, allowing the Septon to tie her hand with a ceremonial ribbon.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words."

"Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his, and he is mine from this day until the end of my days,’’ Marcella uttered, Aegon's deeper voice echoing hers. The words hung in the air, their vows sealing their fates together. The congregation erupted in applause and cheers, their union celebrated by all who witnessed it. Marcella closed her eyes when she felt the savoury smell of sea and wine nearing. Suddenly, Tyrell felt tired, as if the world had drained her of every feeling she had with lips brushing against hers. Relief waved through Marcella's body—she did everything right.

The feast was lavish, although Marcella doesn't remember much. Everything was bleak in her mind, crumbling under the weight of worry. As she sat at the table, surrounded by opulent decorations and delectable dishes, Marcella's thoughts were consumed by the nearing bedding. It was the most significant part—to appease her husband. The bed is where canny women get their power. Marcella was afraid. No one will be there to aid her, not even guards. Was he violent? Marcella had heard stories of women who had suffered at the hands of their husbands. As she glanced around the lavish room, she couldn't help but wonder if this opulence was merely a facade hiding a darker reality.

A few drunken cheers interrupted her thoughts. In the middle of the hall now stood a massive cake. It was adorned with intricate designs. A palm brushed her forearm, burning it with heat.

''The honor of cutting the cake is my wife's!'' Aegon exclaimed, slightly forcing her forward. She reluctantly stepped toward the cake, her heart pounding with unease. The guests erupted into applause, their cheers masking the underlying tension in the room. The bedding started.

The court plunged into the mess. Nobles jostled for position, eager to witness the spectacle. The raucous atmosphere grew even more chaotic as wine spilled and laughter filled the air. She lost sight of her husband, whose face was now replaced by that of mostly unfamiliar men. Their shouts blended with the sound of tearing clothes. The crowd carried her to the chambers, singing obscene ditties. When her feet finally hit the floor, the door closed with a loud thud. She stood alone in the dimly lit room, her heart pounding with fear and confusion. The silence that followed the chaos outside was deafening, and she could feel the weight of uncertainty settle upon her.

A few moments later, the door opened once more, revealing a handful of laughing ladies and the Prince himself. ''I am afraid I have to go, madams. Duty calls. It was pleasant seeing you here.'' He waved them off and chuckled to himself. ''Wife!'' he called out, stretching the letters in tune with some song. ''Why aren't you naked yet?''

Marcella didn't answer; instead, she hurried to the mirror. She took off her earrings and other jewelry before gently removing pins and ribbons from her hair. Her now husband didn't add anything else. She heard him make his way to the bed, with the sound of clothes hitting the floor. Marcella glanced at her reflection one last time, ensuring that every strand of hair was in place. She took a deep breath and turned to face Prince Aegon.

Instead of meeting his drunken gaze, she saw his naked back. Confusion washed over her as she realized he had passed out on the bed. Marcella felt relief wash over her body; she didn't have to share the bed with him today. She quietly tiptoed towards the bed, careful not to disturb his slumber. As she slipped under the covers, Marcella remembered. The servants are going to examine each inch of the sheets for confirmation of their union.

She looked around the room, scanning for something, anything, to save her from the need to wake her now husband. And here it was—a simple butter knife near the plates of fruit. With a quick glance towards her husband, Marcella carefully picked up the butter knife, her heart pounding in her chest.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly pressed the knife against her skin, praying that her plan would work without waking her husband. A small stream of blood trickled down her leg as Marcella winced at the sharp sting. She hurriedly dabbed the blood onto the sheets, staining them just enough to give the appearance of authenticity. With a sigh of relief, she carefully wiped away any evidence and placed the butter knife back in its original spot, hoping that her desperate act would go unnoticed.

Marcella smiled to herself. Her husband would be too hungover to concern himself whether their marriage was consummated, and even if the thought occurred in his mind, he would be too embarrassed to admit that a famous womanizer like himself couldn't perform in bed. For now, she was free to rest.

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ally-holmes · 2 years

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My fanfic Masterlist | Multifandom

Criminal Minds

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

"Volunteer" -- Complete

ER (1994)

John Carter x Reader

"Unseen" -- Ongoing (sporadic updates)

Good Omens

Crowley x Aziraphale

"May I?" -- Complete

IT (movies)

"Scars" -- Complete

Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris

"It started with a kiss" +18 -- Complete

Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris x Eddie Kaspbrak

"Richie's an alpha, Stanley's an omega, and Eddie's a hot mess" +18 -- Ongoing (hiatus)

Jeeves and Wooster

"What-ho!" -- Complete

"Jeeves' absence" -- Complete

"Bertie and the secret friend" +18 -- Complete

"Bertie makes a mess" -- Complete

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington x Reader

"Regular Customer" -- Complete

"Nancy's Wedding" -- Complete

The Almighty Johnsons

"Bamboozle" -- Complete

Anders Johnson x Reader

"Bragi's Weakness" -- Complete

"Beware of the dragon" -- Tumblr | AO3 -- Complete

"Use your words" +18 -- Tumblr | AO3 -- Complete

Anders Johnson x OFC

"A deal with Hades" -- Tumblr | AO3 -- Complete

The Hobbit

Bilbo Baggins x Thorin Oakenshield

"Confounded" -- Complete

"I thought you were dead" -- Complete

Fili

"The aftermath" -- Tumblr | AO3 -- Complete

"Battle scars" -- Tumblr | AO3 -- Complete

Fili x OFC

"Lion and fire" -- Tumblr | AO3 -- Complete

Wanted (2016)

Wilson Johnson x Reader

"Screw bad days" -- Tumblr | AO3 -- Complete

Young Hercules

"Time travel to Terra Mítica" -- Tumblr | AO3 -- Complete

More to come...

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judgementdaysunshine · 1 year

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Masterlist 20

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 1 year

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Vassal of the King (part 10)

Frerin x OFC

Author's annotations are here!

*****

Frerin is one hundred and thirty-one when he is finally forced (or allowed?) to come to terms with his past.

Life in Erebor is full of uncertainty for his family.

Frerin lives the first weeks under the Mountain as if in a dream. It is startling, even unsettling, to witness how things, places and situations he knew seventy years ago and then did his best to forget, immediately return to his mind, like predators that have been hiding in the dark waiting for the right moment to strike. Frerin wanders around the palace, alone or carrying his son on his shoulders, and shows him his mother's parlour, where he went to be cuddled and comforted after a fight with his brother or a tumble down the stairs, the stone-walled inner courtyard, where he and the other children of the family played together, and the small but cozy room next to the library where he attended his classes.

The emotional, bittersweet memories of his childhood are still vivid in his heart, like ghosts enlivened around him to remind the prince of a past in which he was happy (more than he thought back then, and how ashamed he is to remember that) and safe and surrounded by people who loved him. As he re-explores the ancestral home of his family, Frerin is torn between exaltation and desperation, between peace and shame, between cheerfulness and regret. And whether the tears he sheds are happy or otherwise, not even he can tell.

The Mountain is not the only thing he needs to rediscover: there are its people he has to deal with, and some of them are not less inflexible and rigid than their home.

Besides Balin, who is still the older cousin, indulgent and understanding, willing to forgive his mischief and put in a good word whenever Thráin got cross with his younger son, the only ones who welcome Frerin as if he had never left are Dís and her children. The princess is much older than the last time they saw each other, hints of silver in her raven hair and laughter lines around her mouth, but the way se receives him (a tight hug, not crying but shaking as if she were making an effort to hold back tears) is exactly what he was expecting from his older sister and favourite playmate. Dís does not ask questions, does not lay blames, does not ask for promises; she does not offer advices either. She simply asks her brother to attend her wedding, and in exchange she gladly accepts to offer Verdandi her friendship. Fili and Kili, on their part, are happy to have a new uncle, and propose themselves as his guides in the new kingdom under the Mountain, and as playmates for Sindri.

The rest of the family opens to him gradually, which, Frerin thinks, is more than he had reason to hope for. Many of its members are also part of Thorin's Company, a close-knit group Frerin is not part of and among which he has no right to be. Dwarves are, after all, famously talented in holding grudges and not forgiving a slight, real or perceived, and many of his relatives (his cousin Dwalin first of all) still blame him for what he did, for his cowardly flight after Azanulbizar, and for a while they keep their distance, as if he were carrying a contagious disease. But blood is thicker than water, and no blood is thicker than that of the Dwarves of the Line of Durin, and in the end, little by little, Frerin's kin (again, his cousin and now brother-in-law Dwalin first of all) open up to him, welcome him in their midst, teach him how to navigate the court, who to trust and who to avoid. They take care of him.

Frerin had not realized (or rather, he had not allowed himself to realize) how much he missed his birth family. He had thought Verdandi and Sindri were everything he needed to be happy, and more than he deserved; and that is true, he could swear it in front of the Maker himself. His wife and child are the family he has chosen and he would rather die than lose them; this is different, because Dís and the others are his blood, his clan, and they share an ancient and deep bond Frerin cannot ignore, nor does he want to.

Thorin...

Thorin's behaviour is difficult to interpret. He does not attack Frerin, in words or otherwise, nor does he holds his betrayal against him or reminds him of his own promise to forget he ever had a brother. At his arrival, they share a formal, frosty hug, and then his brother does his best to keep him at a distance, ignoring him as if Frerin had never returned. He is perfectly courteous, even friendly, with his wife and child, making sure they have everything they need and feel at home in the Mountain; he asks Dís to introduce Verdandi to her friends, and proposes to choose the kingdom's best preceptor for Sindri. Frerin is relived, and grateful, but he does not delude himself into thinking those considerations also extend to him: he knows that sooner or later he and his older brother, he and his King, will have to talk, and it is not going to be pleasant. But until then, Frerin thinks as they both hold their sister's hands to give her away at her wedding, it is good to be together once more, and he is determined to enjoy that happiness while it lasts.

The apartment Frerin and his family settle in is ten times larger than their house in Tharak Bazan. Frerin brings his wife and child to explore his homeland, and his people; he fills them with attentions and precious gifts, things they until now could only dream of: succulent foods, jewelry, sumptuous clothes. He does it because he loves them, and because they deserve the best and he is finally able to give it to them; and deep in his heart, Frerin knows he does it to appease his conscience, because he knows Verdandi and Sindri are not happy in that kingdom they are only staying in for his sake.

Sindri, already a reserved, introverted child when in the company of people he does not know well, is intimidated by everything: by the Mountain, by the stone-vaulted large halls, by the flaunted wealth at every corner, by the important people he meets - and little does it matter that he is a prince himself, the nephew of the King. The little Dwarf misses his home, the town he was born in, and his friends; his parents, and Fili and Kili, do their best to make him feel safe and happy, but for a while Sindri withdraws into himself, keeping close to his mother and making himself small every time someone speaks to him, as if he were trying to disappear.

Unexpectedly, it is Thorin (the grumpiest, most intimidating Dwarf of the seven clans, who probably has less free time than anyone else in the whole kingdom) who helps his little nephew come out of his shell: he seems to have really grown fond of the child, and maybe he remember how it was, to be so little in the midst of so much. He speaks gently but seriously to him, without a trace of the condescension many adults use with children; the King personally brings his brother's son to visit the halls where some ancient relics of the Line of Durin are stored, and patiently answers to Sindri's numerous questions. Thanks to his help, Sindri slowly begins to settle in, and Thorin is the member of the family he is closest to.

Something his father envies him. A lot.

Verdandi can hide her uneasiness better than her child. With great relief of both her and Frerin, she and Dís bond almost instantly, and the Dwarf woman gladly agrees to assist her sister-in-law with the preparations for her wedding. Verdandi, the daughter of a tanner and a shop-keeper, who was taught at home and knows nothing of the politics and the etiquette of the court, adopts the role of a princess (because this is what she is, even though only by marriage) as if she were born for it. She wears lavish gowns and rich jewels with the utmost naturalness, as if she had not mended her own clothes and those of her family until a few months ago, her head held high and her steps slow but self-assured, and instinctively understands when the Dwarves who talk to her do it out of sincere kindness and interest or hiding contempt behind flattering words.

One day one of the King's councillors, who has taken a dislike to her, attempts to belittle Verdandi including her in a conversation with a recently arrived delegation from Eryn Galen; his intention is to embarass the Dwarf woman, who certainly knows nothing of the delicate relationship between Mirkwood and the Mountain, their less than peaceful past, the cautious diplomatic relations developed after the retaking of Erebor. Before Frerin or Dís can come to her rescue, Verdandi surprises the whole court greeting the ambassadors in their own tongue, that, she explains, she learnt a few words of from a couple of Elves she and her sister did business with in Tharak Bazan, buying fine silkes and velvets for their shop. The Elves seem pleasantly surprised, and stay and talk to Verdandi for a long time, while the councillor seethes and remains silent, since he does not understand a word. Later, Thorin publicly praises her, recognizing it is probably thanks to his sister-in-law that those blasted pointy-ears have behaved almost courteously during their stay.

Frerin has never been prouder of his wife, and he tells her more than once; she wordlessly smiles, and dismisses those compliments with a gesture of her hand.

Verdandi gets along well with Dís, Thorin and Balin and the rest of her husband's family, but she is not happy. She misses her home, and her old life, the one she has given up for her husband's sake and in order to move to a place where she has been welcomed and she can have everything she wants and much more, but where she feels out of place like a pebble among the rubies. Who cares if she will never have to work another day in her life, and if she can have a new dress for every day of the month? She has not seen Skuld in weeks, and the shop she was so proud of and where she loved spending her days in is so far away; she is relieved Sindri's future is secured, but she cannot help fearing living under the Mountain will destroy her family.

But Verdandi has promised to stand by her husband whatever the cost, and is determined to keep her word. She knows he is happy in Erebor, at home with the family he had missed so much, and how important it is for him to repair his relationship with his brother, even though in the privacy of her heart she wishes they could go back to their little home, and their little life, in Tharak Bazan, when they were no one of importance, nothing more than a smith and a shopkeeper, and they were happy (they were; he was. Or was he not?, she asks herself during yet another sleepless night) and safe and they could wish for nothing more. Verdandi hides these fears in the depth of her heart, and orders herself to be strong. For Fjalar.

The brief period the family had agreed to move to the Mountain for soon becomes a whole year. Frerin spends most of his time with his brother, trying to redeem himself in Thorin's eyes and, absurdly at the same time, to prove to him how unsuited he is to the role of prince; Sindri finally makes friends with some of the court's children, but mainly finds ways to entertain himself alone. Verdandi spends his time with Dís e other Dwarf ladies her sister-in-law has introduced her to, she comports herself as it is expected by a princess, she is courteous, elegant, and probably the only Dwarf under the Mountain the Elves tolerate; but she is not happy.

Gradually, a painful distance grows between her and Frerin. He is so busy helping his brother ruling their kingdom (and wondering what exactly he is trying to achieve, whether to demonstrate he is not cut for that sort of life by failing or to do a good job so that Thorin can be proud of him) that the time Frerin can spend with his wife and son is inevitably reduced. He is forced to postpone twice a trip to Dale he had promised Sindri, and forgets Verdandi's birthday for the first time since they met; he begs for her forgiveness, promises it will not happen again and buys her another lavish dress to make amends, and she assures him it does not matter and she is not angry, but the damage is done, and from then on things get worse.

Frerin loves Verdandi and Verdandi loves Frerin, but soon the two lose the intimacy that was the joy and the treasure of their relationship. They lie together regularly (even too regularly, as if the act was a duty to be fulfilled twice a week) but without the passion and the naturaleness of the past; to show their feelings, even just to say I love you, seems to be harder every day. Thorin has proposed to share his duties with Frerin, to have him presiding over minor matters and acting as his delegate as it is the right and the duty of a prince, and Verdandi is happy the two brothers have at least something to talk about (really, she is!) even though it means she is the one who barely sees her husband anymore.

Frerin is more and more busy, and in Verdandi's eyes he becomes more of a prince than a husband. Besides Dís, the person she sees the most in those weeks is Bofur, a Dwarf whose kindness and natural cheerfulness are offered freely, and gratefully accepted. The two meet almost every day, and Bofur makes friends with Sindri as well, entertaining the child with his stories and the toys he builds. Verdandi and Bofur's relationship is purely platonic, but this does not prevent Frerin from burning with the fierce fire of jealousy, and from fearing the other Dwarf wants to take the people he loves the most from him.

When Frerin reproaches Verdandi insinuating there is something more than friendship between her and Bofur, she answers he has some nerve accusing her, given all the unmarried court ladies who keep accidentally crossing his path and tripping over their own feet hoping he will help them stand ("It is simply the polite thing to do! I never asked for that kind of attention!" "Yes, but have you done anything to discourage them? Or do you secretly enjoy it!?") and that he has left her alone to the point that she can barely remember his face does not mean she must spend the rest of her life without the comfort of friends. Husband and wife end up shouting at each other like they had never done before, and Sindri cries, terrified as he looks at the two people he loves the most, and who also love each other so much, acting as if they were bitter enemies.

After that argument, Frerin and Verdandi do not speak for five days; they are both broken-hearted, and know they would only have to say I am sorry to be forgiven, but they are both so angry and hurt and disappointed, and know that the issue between them is much deeper, and more complicated, than a single, stupid quarrel. After so many years of love and intimacy, they have found themselves on the opposing sides of a fault, and they have no idea how to reach each other. They only talk and smile to each other in public, sleep facing in opposite directions, and cry in private.

She has started to call him Frerin, even when they are alone or surrounded by their friends, and for some reason he could not completely explain, that for him is the worst sign of all.

Surprisingly, it is Verdandi's bitterest critic, the councillor who attempted to embarass her in front of the Elves, who helps them make peace.

During a meeting of the council, that Frerin is taking part in next to his brother, the councillor announces that the court has received a proposal from the King of another of the seven clans: he has a daughter of marrying age, and offers her as a bride to a prince of the Line of Durin, in order to build an enduring alliance between the two families. "Maybe prince Frerin could accept the proposal."

A perplexed Frerin, who is sitting in front of the other Dwarf, blinks (and all the eyes in the room fix on him) and points out he is already married. Even though our marriage is no longer what it used to be, he privately adds, even though I fear she could decide to leave me, were it not for our child. And the fault is mine and mine alone.

The councillor sneers and explains in turn that Verdandi can easily be dismissed with a small expense, and sent back to her village with her child; after all she is a commoner, nothing more than a peasant, she will know her place and Frerin will be free to marry a lady of rank, a Dwarf woman worthy of him...

The councillor can barely finish his speech before Frerin has jumped on the table and then on him, has violently punched him in the face and is now attempting to strangle him.

Chaos explodes in the council room. It takes the combined effort of Kili, Fili and Dwalin to immobilize Frerin; Dís begs her brother to calm down, while Thorin, sitting at the end of the long table, observes the scene, silent but grim-faced. In the end, when Frerin has been pushed back on his chair and the councillor escorted outside by a healer, the King rises from his seat, and looks at his brother. "In the armory." he orders, without raising his voice; he does not need to "Now."

Frerin silently obeys. The two brothers descend in the depth of the Mountain, reaching the silent, dimly lit hall where the weapons are stored and maintained; a large grinding machine, not unlike the one Frerin used in his forge in Tharak Bazan, stands in a corner, in wait for a soldier whose blade needs sharpening. With a start, Frerin realizes the two of them were exactly there, so many years ago, when the dragon came. So much has happened since then, and things have changed, they have changed... but not so much they can look at each other in the eyes, and forget what they shared.

"I have no intention of renouncing Verdandi." he says, before Thorin has time to insult him or reproach him or whatever is the reason why he brought him there "She is my wife, the mother of my son, and I love her. I will never leave her, and I want no one else."

Thorin has turned his back to his brother, as he examines the swords hanging on a wall on their hooks. "I know; lord Gurak has offended you both with his proposal, and especially with the words he used. You had every reason to get angry." he concedes "What is inexcusable is your reaction; you are a prince, not a drunkard brawling in a tavern. You should comport yourself as it is expected from you; as a member of the royal family, your behaviour affects us all. Do you think mother would approve of seeing you solving your problems with your fists?"

Those reprimands are among the things he did not miss in the years he spent in exile, but Frerin knows his brother is right: after Azanulbizar he had sworn to never resort to violence again, least of all against another Dwarf, and the fact the councillor had insulted his wife does not justify what he did. Verdandi would not approve... but after all, there is very little his wife has been happy about in a while.

"I am sorry." he says in the end; and that is the first step forward "Really, I know I should not have, but Verdandi and I... are having some issues."

"She is not happy here in Erebor?"

"She is not, even though she would never admit it; and the only person to blame is me."

"Mmh..."

Thorin turns; the two swords he is holding are blunted, like the ones used by young Dwarves who have just started military training. He tosses one to Frerin, who clumsily grabs the handle. "On your guard." he orders, and Frerin blinks.

"What?"

"Like we did when we were young. Disarm me."

"Thorin, I have not used a sword since..."

"On your guard, I said!"

They spend he rest of the day in the armory, skipping dinner. Whatever Frerin once knew about sword-fighting has long been forgotten, considering the only tool he has handled for half his life is a sledgehammer, and a training session with his brother is not enough to remind him of everything he once knew. He cannot disarm his brother, he never could and probably he will never be able to, but, Frerin thinks as he awkwardly parries Thorin's lunge to his stomach and attempts in vain to find an opening in his brother's defense, at least he can try.

And he does.

In the end they are both breathless, their hands hurt, and the two brothers put away their swords to sit and talk, for the first time in a year... and in sixty-five. Frerin cautiously tries to discuss about their last conversation at the gates of Khazad-dûm, but Thorin's intentions are different: to dwell on the past would only bring pain and a new occasion to argue, and he has a proposal to make. A proposal he is confident Frerin will find much more interesting than lord Gurak's, and that concerns him and his family.

Not all the Dwarves of the Line of Durin have returned to Erebor. A fraction of them has decided to remain in the Blue Mountains, in the town they had established after they were driven out of their home. Those Dwarves nevertheless consider themselves Thorin's subjects on par with those dwelling under the Mountain, and have asked that a kinsman of their King comes ruling them as his delegate.

"... me?"

"You."

"I thought Balin... or Dís and Dwalin..."

Thorin promptly shakes his head, as if he had been expecting those objections. "You are my brother." he states; he looks at him in the eyes as he does, and Frerin realizes how much he had missed hearing his brother uttering those simple words "And I trust you. I know you will not disappoint me."

"I am not a prince, Thorin. I am not made for this kind of life." Frerin replies, and while he says it he knows it is true, truer than ever, no matter how ashamed he is "On that day I ran away, and now... in a single year I amost destroyed what until then was a solid, loving marriage, simply being here. How do you think I could rule a whole town, when I cannot even keep peace in my own family?"

Thorin huffs. "To feel overwhelmed, and to struggle to make sense of life at court, does not make you unworthy of being a prince, nor it makes you unintelligent or weak." he points out "Do you think it is easy for me? The destiny of the whole kingdom rests on my shoulders, and it is not a light weight to carry or something I can delegate. Do you think I never doubt myself? That I never make mistakes? Do you think I am not afraid of failure, and of disappointing everyone who looks at me for guidance? I do it; every single day. And I would be a fool not to."

To hear Thorin -Thorin!- criticize himself and admit his own doubts and faults is something Frerin never thought he would see. Suddenly he feels ill at ease, as he were witnessing an intimate scene... and a surge of protectiveness, equally unexpected towards a Dwarf older than him, and that he has always looked at for guidance and reassurance. And maybe that is the problem, is it not?

"Allow me to think about it." he says in the end, since his brother is still waiting "I have... I want to discuss it with Verdandi..."

The older brother nods. "Think about it and then give me an answer. This is all I ask."

"I can do that. I will."

"Good."

They stand, alone in the room. Frerin looks at his brother, and suddenly he feels like a boy once more; so alone, so in need of help, of guidance, of forgiveness. "Thorin..."

"Ssh..."

The King smiles; he is no less noved than his brother, and equally bad at hiding it. "Come here, little brother."

They embrace, and cry together, and ask for and concede forgiveness; that is all it takes, and that it would have taken even sixty-five years ago. And in the end, they both feel better.

Frerin feels his heart lighter, but not yet devoid of preoccupations and guilt, as he returns to his family's quarters, determined to make things right. Verdandi and Sindri are sitting on the bed in the master bedroom, busy with a book of fairytales the child by now knows by heart, and could very well read by himself. But Sindri knows his mother enjoys reading for him, and because of this he lets her, to please her: his mother's smiles have become rare as of late, and he is worried.

"And so, the king of ravens spoke, and he told the prince that the treasure he was looking for was within his reach, if only he..."

"Father, you are back!"

Sindri runs towards his father as soon as he sees him; Frerin kisses his brown, and promises tomorrow they will go visit the shops of the toymakers of Dale. Sindri nods, happier at the prospect of spending an afternoon with his father than of receiving a new toy: he has so many already. "Will mother come as well?"

Frerin glances at his wife, sitting on the bed. "Perhaps." he concedes "Would you leave us for a moment, little gem? Your mother and I need to talk."

Sindri smiles; he is still too young to understand exactly why, but he instinctively perceives talk is exactly what his parents need to do. "All right."

"Have you really punched lord Gurak? In front of the whole council?" Verdandi asks once they are alone and her husband is sitting next to her; she seems horrified, but also amused.

"Yes. Do you know why?"

"I have been told. Frerin, listen..."

"Ssh..."

He kisses her, slowly and passionately, and the intensity of that kiss makes them both shiver; their physical intimacy never suffered, but for some reason that kiss is like a cup of water in the desert. "I love you, Verdandi." he murmurs, suddenly feeling as shy as the first time he told her, and a smile blossoms on his wife's lips.

"I know. I love you too." she answers, as if they were both stating the obvious, but the relief in her smile is telling "This I have never doubted."

Tagging @starlady66 and @elvenenby!!

Frerin smiles back. "I know you have not; but some things deserve to be said nonetheless, and more often than I have in a while." he explains, and then he turns serious "I have something to tell you. There is... a project Thorin has spoken to me about, and that concerns us all. We will decide what to do together... and this time I want you to tell me what you really think."

*****

#Frerin #Frerin son of Thrain #Frerin son of Thráin #Frerin x OFC #Frerin x OC #The Lord of the Rings #The Hobbit #Bellona's stuff

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marigoldvance · 3 years

Text

Courting Fíli

Part Six

for @legolaslovely because she deserves nice things 💛

Part One ׀ Part Two ׀ Part Three ׀ Part Four ׀ Part Five

note: and it is herein that we conclude this journey, mes frens!

Dís’ words knock about Fíli’s mind like pebbles in a shoe as he makes his way toward Dís’ solarium. He’s glad the meeting will take place there; it’s become something of a refuge for him since his lessons on holding court and leading council have become longer and more intense. The natural light is a refreshing change from the red-orange glow of torches, or the dim reflection emitted from the channels of liquid copper-tin veined throughout Nogrod. Even at night, when the sun has sunk below the horizon, Dís’ solarium seems to retain some of its splendor in the petals of the night blossoms.

Fíli hides in there as often as he can get away with, sometimes hefting large tomes in to read and others, simply lying back on the stone bench in the center of Dís’ strange little garden and gazing at the constellations through the skylight. It’s easy to feel like one is beyond the cloistered and crowded halls of the mountain while taking a pause in there.

Which is exactly why Fíli suggested Dís’ solarium in the first place: If all goes well, once introductions are exchanged, Fíli intends to escort his sweet maid out of doors, away from possible interruptions and, more significantly, away from eavesdroppers (read: his mother, possibly his brother, definitely his uncle).

Fíli has dressed normally in a comfortable tunic and supple bottoms that allow bits of himself to breathe, thank you very much. Overtop he wears a sheep’s hide vest and, on his feet, sturdy boots for walking. He’s prepared a dozen or so alternatives should his sweet maid decline to leave the mountain, as well as gone over in his mind as many different outcomes of this meeting as his mind could come up with.

If she rejects his proposal to court in such a foreign manner, Fíli is ready for that as well.

Still, he truly hopes she doesn’t. She was the most beautiful thing he’d beheld all evening; he hasn’t been able to put her out of his head since, even amongst all the taunting and teasing Kíli had done when he waltzed in all Melkor-may-care after Dís left Fíli to ruminate on the contract.

Strange as it may sound coming from a dwarf who previously wanted nothing to do with courtship and romance, Fíli’s excited to get to know his maid. Soft and radiant as a starlit eve in late Thrimidge, that fascinating ember of extraness in her eye that Fíli spotted when he admired her at the table last night. Oh yes, Fíli isn’t above admitting to being moved by her.

Finally, he reaches the private entrance to Dís’ solarium and slips in, closing the door gently behind himself and padding toward the divan where his maid waits on light feet so as not to startle her.

What happens next, however, has him rethinking that consideration as she shrieks in terror at the sound of his voice.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Fíli says, hands held up in a gesture of placation. He adds through a wide, resigned smile and a hearty chuckle, “I come in peace, I swear!”

His maid is clutching her heart, face red from either embarrassment or the strength she put behind her shriek. She has a good set of lungs, Fíli notes, oddly pleased by the fact. After a moment she uses to catch her breath and her bearings, she hiccoughs and then bursts into a fit of laughter. Fíli can’t help but join her, the sound catching and wonderful. Not at all like the other maids Fíli was forced to engage with, their controlled simpering behind their fingers, trying to emulate tinkling bells or delicate birdcall or some such.

No, his maid laughs like she means it, from the diaphragm. And that’s it, he’s smitten. Bring him the marriage contract and the pen, he’s ready to sign.

They each wipe the tears from the corner of their eyes, studying each other in the quiet that follows until, at last, his maid speaks.

“I must admit, my Lord, I hadn’t anticipated meeting you in such a familiar manner. I had hoped to make a better first impression.”

Fíli melts and he’s pretty sure she can tell, given how terrible a job he’s doing at keeping it off his face.

“Please, call me Fíli.” He says and then continues, “And I rather enjoyed how things played out. I feel we know each other better for it.” He leans in close, inhaling a delightful combination of scents from her skin, of loam and wet grass, “Besides,” He whispers, “You have the most enchanting laugh.”

She swats him on the shoulder with the back of her hand and snorts, “I absolutely don’t, but I shall take the compliment anyway.”

Oh, how she continues to endear herself to Fíli.

He stands and holds out his hand, an invitation she accepts by sliding her own into his palm. “I was thinking we could travel down to the lake.”

“May I ask why?”

“There is a boat my brother and I built—”

“Ah, yes, Nessy.” She says primly, “A very fine vessel, from what Kíli told me over supper.”

Fíli tilts his head in consideration, “She has seen some adventure, I agree. But!” Fíli pulls her gently into his side and tucks her arm into the crook of his elbow as any honest gentleman would, “She has a small store of blankets and I’ve had a picnic prepared and loaded on her. I thought we could make use of her for the afternoon.”

“That sounds lovely,” Her smile is honeydrizzle and warm breezes when she turns it on Fíli, “Though I have to say, that’s not what I expected when you mentioned the lake.”

Fíli raises a single brow, “Did you think I’d ask you to come skinny dipping with me?” He puts on an offended tone though can’t surpress some of the playfulness that seeps in, “I would never be so presumptuous.”

She glances at him through narrowed eyes, her expression turning positively filthy, “Well, that’s too bad, I wouldn’t have minded seeing what you’re hiding under that tunic of yours.” With that she drags Fíli toward the public entrance to Dís’ solarium, chin up and looking the picture of poised and polite as they step out.

Fíli balks.

This is going to be an interesting and most thrilling courtship, indeed.

~ fin.

dearest readers, we have reached the end of this saga. to those who waited patiently for an update, thank you! also, thank you to everyone who read, liked and reblogged, your support and interest gives me life!

and to those who expected more from this, i apologize; the fact is that i’d lost inspiration/motivation for the plot awhile ago. i’d hoped that it would return but, alas, it didn’t. still, i didn’t want to leave it unfinished 😘 i hope this ending will suffice!

xx - Mari

-*-

@emrfangirl @tmnts-world

#Fili #imagines #The Hobbit imagines #Fili imagines #Fili x Reader #Fili/Reader #Fili x You #Fili/You #Fili x OFC #Fili/OFC #Middle Earth #courting #gift by MarigoldVance #writing #my writing

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daughter-of-arda · 2 years

Text

WM2022: Day 30--Loud

Summary: Ingrid is shouting.

Word Count: 100

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: back to masterlist HERE. Move to day 31 HERE.

——————————————————————————

��You’re shouting again.”

“What?”

“You’re shouting!”

“I’m not pouting. I’m fine.”

Fili comes closer. “You’re shouting.”

“Oh.” Hot tears creep up. She’s been weeping intermittently for days now, since the Dragon Smaug was slain but everyone survived. “Sorry.”

“Hey, Thorin says we should—” Kili stops short. “Ingrid, why’re you crying?”

“My ears hurt and I can’t hear anyone because that awful Dragon popped my eardrums, and everyone keeps saying I’m shouting when this is a normal volume for me!”

Bofur walks past, stalling at the doorway. “Why’re you shouting, lass?”

And Ingrid dissolves into tears of frustration, relief, and laughter.

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distinguisheddwarffriend · 5 months

Text

For one of the FilixOFC MGiME fics I'm beginning to write rn:

ONLY regarding Fili/OFC

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berjhawn · 6 years

Text

Elastic Heart - End & Epilogue

Warnings: Fighting, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, ETC

Pairings: Hobbit X OFC; Thranduil X OFC; Fili X OFC; LOTR X OFC

A/N: Since Tumblr is Broke you’ll have to go to my master-list to find all the other parts.

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

My eyes open and i look around to see the familiar sight of my balcony back home in Eregion. The pain of being stabbed was gone and my long auburn hair was back flowing from my head like fire. “Melethril?” I hear a familiar voice call out and I smile as I turn to see my father standing a few feet behind me his arms open to me.

“Ada!” I cry out tears in my eyes as I run into his arms. “I missed you so much!”

“And I you,”

“It is good to be in your arms once again.” I say as I hold tightly to him not wanting to let him go.

“Melethril I hate to bring this up but you have a choice to make here.” He says as he slowly pulls away from me until he is at arm’s length.

“What do you mean?” I ask curiosity full in my voice. He takes my arm before he leads me over to my balcony and points down to the ground. I follow his finger to see myself lying lifeless on the ground below with Thorin and the rest of the company save for Fili and Kili, surrounding me tears in their eyes. Thorin was cradling my head in his arms tears falling from his eyes down onto my cold cheeks.

“Why are you showing me this?” I ask as my heart clenches.

“Like I said, you have a choice to make.”

“I don’t understand?”

“You have to choose my dear daughter, to leave things the way they are and pass into history along with me; or to return to those who also love you dearly.”

As he finishes his sentence he points back down and I follow his gaze and suddenly see Fili along with his brother, Tauriel, and Thranduil along with Frieda come into view. They were happy about their new found victory. My heart clenches as I see Fili start to walk toward my lifeless body but Dwalin stops him.

“Dwalin what are you doing? Let me pass.” Fili says a smile on his face and I lean forward and place my hands tightly upon the railing of my balcony.

“You don’t need to see this laddie.” Dwalin says and I bite my lip to keep from crying.

“What are you talking about Dwalin? Let me pass.” Fili says his smile fading as his look turns to one of concern.

“I’m afraid I can’t laddie.” Dwalin says as Balin walks over to stand beside his brother as he says, “He’s right Fili,” Suddenly panic fills Fili’s face as he starts to realize why they were keeping him away.

“No…” He cries as he slowly starts to stumble backwards until he backs into his brother. I glance over to see Thranduil’s face blanche as he holds tightly to the little girl in his arms who is now trying to get free from him to run to my side.

“Randir!” I hear her cry out and my heart breaks.

“Hush little one,” Thranduil says as he turns her head into his chest. Tears pour from her eyes as she turns to cling to his neck. Then it suddenly hits me, “Where is Mahrie?” I ask my father and his face turns sad as he says, “She did not make it. She died so that her daughter may live.”

My eyes widen as I cry out, “No, No, no, It wasn’t supposed to end like this! I was supposed to die not her! Take my life and give her her’s back!”

“Randir,” I hear a familiar voice say and I turn to see Mahrie standing a few feet away from my father.

“Mahrie, you should be with your daughter. If I have a choice to live or die take my choice and choose life so that you can be with your daughter again.” I say as I run over to her side.

“I’m afraid it does not work that way my lady. I have lived a full life. I had a great love and out of that love came Frieda but she needs someone who can protect her and love her more than I ever could. When my husband died a piece of me went with him. I could no longer give her the love and attention she needed, what you gave her when you rescued her from the fire.”

“But you are her mother, she loves you not matter what.”

“I know she does but only you can give her the love that died in me. I am not telling you to choose life but if you do will you please give all the love to my child that I never could?”

I glance back at my father and tears fill my eyes as I say, “Why do only I get a choice?”

“Because we want you to have one.” He says and suddenly my mother appears between him and Mahrie. Her long milky hair waving down her back like cream.

“Nana?” I say as I feel my heart lift in my chest.

“Hello my child,” She says as she slowly walks over and wraps her arms around me. I clench tightly to her as I take in her heavenly smell. “Melethril, the three of us want you to return to the land of the living so that you may finally live in happiness. You my child have witnessed such hardship and pain it is time that you got the happiness you deserve.”

“Even if it is with a dwarf.” I hear my father smugly say and I chuckle.

“Come now dear, we can’t choose who our hearts want. I fully support their relationship. It’s high time the two races mixed.” I feel my face flush at my mother’s words and I gently pull away from her as I say, “Nana!” She lets out a melodious laugh before she walks me back over to the balcony and looks down making me follow her gaze.

I now see Fili bent over my dead body his hands clutching tightly to my hands as they lay on my chest. “Please come back to me!” He cries out and I feel my heart break.

“Melethril, like your father and Mahrie said the choice is completely up to you; however I believe you made that young man a promise; and the descendants of Fëanor always keep their promises.” She says and I feel tears fill my eyes as I wrap my arms around her and say, “I love you and one day we will meet again; but I wish to return to Fili. He needs me and I need him.”

A bright smile covers her rosy lips as she leads me back over to Mahrie and my father before she says, “Then take this gift we give you and return to those who love you most my child.”

My mother takes one of my hands while Mahrie takes the other, and my father smiles brightly at me as he gently places a hand on my head. “Fare the well my child and shall we meet again.” He says and I suddenly start to feel my body heat up under their touch. “Gods relieve my child’s pain and allow her to return to the land of the living so that she may live a long and prosperous life.”

All I felt next was a pulsing reverberate throughout my body making me close my eyes and the next time I opened them I was staring face to face with a shocked Fili.

“Randir?” He says, unbelieving in his voice. I give him a bright smile as I brace myself up on my elbow and using my free hand reach up and grip tightly to his shirt as I pull him down until his lips crash upon mine. It took him a minute to comprehend what was happening but when he did I felt him kiss me back as his arms wrap tightly around me.

I suddenly hear loud cries of happiness sound around me and I pull away from him to give the rest of my friends a happy smile. Fili smiles as he quickly helps me to my feet. As he does something catches my eye and I feel tears threaten to fill my eyes. My hair was long again, cascading down my back once again. I reach up to find the place Fili had braided and I let out a giggle as I realize that it hadn’t grown back. It still remained as I reminder of what I had been through.

“I guess I have more hair to braid now.” Fili says and I let out a melodious laugh before I am quickly surrounded by my dwarven friends as they altogether engulf me in a giant bear hug.

“Randír!” I hear Frieda call out and I quickly and politely pull myself from my dwarven friends and run over to her and Thranduil. If it had been any other day I would have just waited for Thranduil to let Frieda down but not this day. I quickly engulfed both of them in a giant hug. I hear roars of laughter behind me and I could only assume they were laughing at Thranduil’s expression.

I slowly pull away and I bite my lip to keep from laughing at Thranduil’s shocked expression. Frieda, taking advantage of his current state quickly climbs from his arms to mine. “I will protect and love you for the rest of my life, young Frieda.” I say as she wraps her arms tightly around my neck.

“I love you Randír,” She says as happy tears fall from her eyes.

“And I love you too.” I say as I give her a quick squeeze. I open my eyes to see that now Thranduil’s expression has changed from shocked to happy and I smile.

“Nae saian luume', Mellonamin.” (It has been too long, My friend.) He says and I gently reach out and touch his cheek as I say, “I have missed you.” Suddenly I feel Frieda pull away from me and hold her arms out to Thranduil who smiles as he takes her from me.

“I’m going to have a hard time keeping the two of you apart now aren’t i?”

“I’m going to marry him someday.” Frieda says a smile filling her lips causing Thranduil’s face suddenly flushes and I let out a chuckle.

“Oh are you now?” I slowly turn back to Thranduil and I smirk as I say; “Well now you definitely can’t keep being a hermit.” He shakes his head as he turns to Frieda and says, “I am far too much your senior young Frieda but I will be here for you if you should ever have need of me.” I smile as I turn back to see Fili staring at me with love in his eyes. I turn back to Thranduil and smile as I say, “Excuse me please.” Thranduil gives me a slight bow before he goes back to arguing with Frieda about someday marrying her.

I slowly walk over to Fili and when I reach him I say, “Did you ever have any doubt that I would come back to you?”

He raises an eyebrow as he reaches forward and gently takes my hands in his before he says, “You gave me quite a scare for a moment; but I knew you wouldn’t leave me amrâlimê.” As he called me his love I feel my body start to tremble in excitement.

“I made you a promise, did I not?” I say before I gently place my lips upon his awaiting ones. I silently send a thank you to my Father, mother, and Mahrie as I finally feel like I belong. I belonged here in this moment with this man and my old and newfound family.

Suddenly someone clears their throat and I pull away from Fili to see Thorin staring at me his expression unreadable. “I see you didn’t die, Melethril.” He says my name a tear fills my eye as I bow to him.

“I couldn’t, It was my king’s command.” I watch as a bright smile covers his lips as he says, “I see we should be preparing not only a victory celebration but a wedding as well, two weddings at that.” I slowly turn to see Tauriel and Kili off in their own little world and smile brightly. I quickly devise a plan and I harden my face as I clear my throat making them all turn toward me, their happy expressions now turned to worry.

“I will only marry Fili under two conditions.” I say as I fold my arms over my chest. They all stare at me for a moment before Dwalin says, “What be your conditions lass?”

“The first one is that Fili has to properly ask me to marry him and the second,” I pause briefly as I let the happiness return to my face before I say, “Is that Thorin himself will give me away.” I watch as all the heads slowly turn to Thorin who is staring at me his face unreadable as he says, “Those are your conditions?”

“Yes they are, and if neither or only one of them is met I will not marry your nephew.”

“Randír?!” I hear Fili say shocked but Thorin smiles as he says, “Then I guess everything lies on Fili; because I would be honored to give you away.” I smile before I turn to Fili and say, “I guess it’s on you now melamin.” He smirks as he leans up to whisper in my ear. I chuckle as listen to his words before I gently nod my head. He smiles brightly as he cups my face and brings his lips to mine releasing a wave of passion throughout my body as cries of happiness sound around us. After all these years I had finally found my home and I couldn’t have been happier.

-Epilogue-

“Mom! Frieda sneaked off to see her Elvish lover again!” I hear my son Calar call out as he runs into the forge along with his twin brother Nalar. It had been Fili’s idea to name the boys and I couldn’t help but laugh at how closely they matched him and Kili. Calar was the older of our sons his raven hair cascaded down his back in waves as his face had raven stubble. His eyes matched mine like little emeralds. Calar had definitely inherited more of the Elvish gene then his younger brother Nalar; towering over me like a mountain.

Nalar however took after his father in almost every way. His long golden locks waved down his back like wheat swaying in the wind along with his blonde stubble. His icy eyes had little speck of green in them just like his father; and to his disappointment Nalar had inherited his father’s height making him just a few inches shorter than myself. If you didn’t know better you wouldn’t have believed them to be related at all.

“Didn’t you hear me mom? I said Frieda ran off to Uncle Thranduil’s to see her ‘Elf’!” Calar yells out again only this time saying Elf like it’s some kind of curse word making me stop in my tracks and slowly turn toward him eyes wild with anger.

“Excuse me?” I say and he instantly regrets his words.

“Uh I didn’t-” He stutters out and I raise an eyebrow.

“Calar son of Fili, you have been spending too much time with your great uncle. May I remind you that you are in fact half Elf.” I loved Thorin but he still hadn’t warmed to the idea of being chummy with my kin. His emerald eyes suddenly look down in shame and I smile as I say, “Frieda will be fine, I will send word to Thranduil and he will take good care of your sister.”

My mind returns to the day Frieda had said she was going to marry Thranduil, I chuckle as I think about how she was still to this day dead set on marrying him.

“I told you Cal!” Nalar says and I turn to him and say, “Nalar, how is that young maiden you’ve been courting?” His face suddenly turns bright red and I smile as he says, “Um she’s doing well, uh, I’m gonna yeah, I’m gonna go find uncle.” I watch as he quickly runs out of the room making me burst out in laughter.

“Nana, will I ever find someone to love?” I hear Calar say halfheartedly and my laughter instantly fades. I slowly walk over and wrap my arms around my older son as I say, “Be patient, you have many years ahead of you. I didn’t find your father for centuries after I was born. I have faith that if you be patient you will find your love.” He smiles as he leans down and wraps his arms around me and says, “I love you nana.”

“And I love you my son.” He pulls away and giving me a half smile I watch as he bounds off after his father. Dam him for being so much like me. It definitely made raising him hard but I was in it for the long haul.

Suddenly the door opens again and I smile as I see a familiar face walking towards me. “I sure am getting a lot of company today,” I say as Fili reaches me and takes my hands in his.

“I could not go another minute without seeing your face amrâlimê.” I smile as I lean down to kiss his lips. As his lips mine I feel a familiar passion fill my body making me moan into his lips.

“I think it’s time for a break.” He says as he pulls away almost breathless.

I nod against his head as I say, “Lock the door and I’m yours.” He smiles as he hungrily places his lips against mine making me go weak in the knees. “On second thought screw the doors,” I whisper hoarsely as I let him take me right there on the floor of my own personal forge just like when we were newlyweds.

“Nana I forgot-Oh Malar never mind!” Calar cries out as he quickly regrets just barging into my forge and turns around and practically runs out of the room. I smile down into Fili’s lips as I once again thank Valar for giving him to me.

“Is there anything else I can give to you amrâlimê?” He asks as we lay side by side on the floor of my forge only his large fur coat covering our bodies. I pull my head up from his chest and looking deeply into his eyes say, “A little girl,” He smiles softly as he says, “At your service my dear.”

THE END

#berjhawn writes #berjhawn #the hobbit #hobbit fanfiction #hobbit x oc #hobbit x ofc #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x ofc #thranduil x oc #Thranduil #fili x ofc #fili x oc #Fili #fanfiction #fili fanfiction #elastic heart #Melethril #Randir

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exquisitley-obsessed · 7 years

Text

The Three Women Of Durin - A Second Awakening (53)

MASTERLIST FOR THIS STORY

(not my gif)

Thorin and Fili briskly walked together, weaving in and out of sick beds and the drained people who lay prisoner inside them. Thorin wondered what Fili was so desperate about him seeing, but found that he didn’t have the energy to be bothered about it too much, he simply allowed himself to be dragged by his nephew through the winding corridors of Erebor, his feet dragging underneath him.

Thorin during this time peeked a look at his eldest sister-son. Fili had grown wild since that day, losing hours and days of sleep because he simply couldn’t get his brain to stop whirring. He was the only one out of the remaining company that knew that himself, Kili and Thorin were supposed to die instead, and this one thought had completely and utterly consumed him. He had taken up a leading role to busy himself on the days where Thorin’s presence couldn’t be found. He organised the sick beds, he made sure they had enough supplies and he bid his farewells to Thranduil on behalf of the company (he also found rooms for Legolas who talked about leaving with Elrond and Tauriel who decided to stay with Legolas until he left).

Fili had stepped up because he didn’t know what else to do. The pain he, his brother and his uncle were sharing was too deep to be mended with talking to one another, they needed space from each other, they needed space from everyone. But, when you have certain blood running through your veins, you can’t afford to turn your back on the world.

Fili would like to say that he was handling the loss of his three friends well, but by this point, he would be only kidding himself. When the sun was up he put on a dry face, with a soft smile and crinkled eyes, but when the stars prickled across the blackened sky…well, he mourned them.

But it was only when a worried and fanatic Kili had shown up on his doorstep that morning had he been to see them, and that was exactly where he was taking Thorin. When Thorin noticed the place they were heading he thought surely not. But as they grew closer, the lower Thorin’s heart sank into his chest. What was Fili up to?

“Fili, why are you taking me there?” Thorin asked calm, there was no point in freaking out.

“Kili came to my door this morning,” Fili responded after a beat, Thorin had been a bomb recently, say the wrong thing, do the wrong action, and he would explode, “Apparently he’s been spending his time with them…he can’t seem to leave them alone,”

“Oh,” Another reason for Thorin’s heart to hurt, “But why are you taking me?”

“Kili said something was wrong, he couldn’t explain it but…” Fili paused walking turning to face his uncle with unsure eyes, watching carefully at Thorin’s reaction, “He said, he thought he saw them breathing,” Thorin didn’t say anything for a minute, a confusing silence crashing onto the small stone corridor.

“You sound unsure,” Thorin decided to respond with.

“Well,” Fili sighed, walking on, “We’ve all taken this badly haven’t we? Kili’s young, and he’s spent a lot of time in that room, there is a possibility that he’s seeing things. I guess he’s lost all hope so he’s searching for it,”

Thorin walked next to Fili in silence, the conversation dropping off into nowhere. When did he become so grown up? The thought rattled around Thorin’s head like his footsteps rattled around the mountain. Fili had a strong exterior on the outside, he always did, and Thorin couldn’t help but think that he would make the best king Erebor had seen in a long while. As Thorin closed in on the room he had left behind 29 days ago, Thorin thought of Kili. Fili was right, the young lad had been through so much trauma in the past few weeks for someone his age. Hope of the girls being alive shouldn’t be a question anymore, the hope they needed was one of learning to survive without them. But Thorin couldn’t help himself from thinking, what if?

Kili sat with wild eyes and wild hair, he was hunched over stone steps, head in hands, elbows on knees. And when Thorin and Kili walked he scrambled to his feet, more hysterical than excited.

“Kili,” Thorin said coolly whilst looking him up and down, he’s a mess.

“Uncle,” Kili responded, his voice short and sharp.

“Fili told me you might have seen something strange going on with the girls,” The word ‘girls’ got caught in Thorin’s throat but he disguised it with a cough, although, the people who surrounded him in that moment were the last people Thorin needed to put a brave face on for.

“Um, yeah,” Kili got out, he sounded unsure, “Last night I was…here, and I thought I saw the girls breathing,” Kili managed to get out. He looked and sounded rather mental.

“Kili…” Thorin breathed softly, “The girls, are dead, I know this is hard but-” Thorin began but was cut off.

“No,” Kili spluttered, “No I swear!” He turned to his brother.

“Kili…” Fili simply said in a pitying voice, he reached out for Kili who simply brushed him off.

“No!” He said rather loudly, “I’ve spent a lifetime of not being taken seriously because of the number of years I’ve walked on this planet. I know how you think of me. I know, that you think that because I’ll never be the king that I can’t act like one! The blood that runs through your veins, runs through mine. Don’t forget that,”

“Kili, we’re not questioning your authority, we’re questioning your judgement,” Thorin said sternly, unfortunately, this was the first time he had felt like himself since, well, you know, “Do you really think you’re in the correct mindset right now to make this kind of allegation!”

“But Thorin-”

“No!” Thorin shouted, a rumble from somewhere in his chest, “You understand that you are disrespecting the dead,” Silence crashed down on the room.

Thorin walked over to his nephew’s quivering form, a silent ghost of the person who had left the blue mountains nearly a year ago. Slowly, and with gentle hands he took hold of Kili’s shoulders, forcing him to look at him.

“I know this is hard for you,” Thorin said faintly, “It’s hard for everyone.” Thorin was searching for the right thing to say, searching for words that would make the sad echo in his sister-sons eyes wisp into nothingness. “But we can’t bring back the dead,” Thorin’s voice was breaking, “All we can do right now is learn how to live with the pain. But Kili…you’re not doing yourself any good by coming back here so often. There has to come to a time where you need to stop looking into your past for happiness.”

“Stop acting like you know how I’m feeling,” Kili whispered, it was a blue attempt to try and put his emotions into words, but Thorin simply took this as an opening to impart some wisdom he had only recently learned about himself.

“I think I do. I think you’re gripping onto nostalgic thoughts to make it seem like the time you had with them was longer. I bet now they look even brighter and exultant than they did before. I bet you’re thinking you can’t ever possibly feel like that again because they’re not in your life anymore,” Thorin wasn’t just talking to Kili anymore. “But, a time will come when you will smile brightly and laugh alongside a group of people who love you.” Thorin stepped back from his nephew with a warm gaze as the wise words from a friend rung around his ears, “I’m not saying it won’t ever not hurt to think of them, I’m just saying that one day the pain won’t consume you so badly, one day you will smile and not be surprised,” The word’s seemed to be working and Thorin could sense Fili’s presence behind him, all three of the remaining Durin’s gripping onto Thorin’s speech, each and every one of them in search for something to ease the pain. This was a moment to remember.

Thorin smiled once more at his young nephew before stepping back a little further and turning to see Fili who was staring right back at him. Fili touched his heart with a soft smile before reaching his hand out to Thorin, an action which he returned before turning away from his nephews and towards the bodies of the deceased. There were at least one hundred more gifts laid out on and around their stones. Notes, flowers, stones, gems and jewels, and so much more. There were more candles as well, they brightened up the room, making it feel less lonely than Thorin remembered it to be. Thorin was just about to turn and walk out, a new comfort settled in his stomach when his youngest nephew once more spoke up.

“I’d still like you to check them,” Kili’s frail voice echoed around the room, “Please…it’ll put my mind to rest,” Thorin felt his shoulders sink a little, but, one last moment of weakness wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Thorin smiled a sad smile at his nephew before turning back to the girls. He made his way forward, picking his way over candles and cards to the closest body, which he knew was Cece before even looking. Bearing himself, he peered down, how long had it been since he had seen her? how long had it been since he had pictured her face? Cece lay peacefully, flowers intertwined in her locks of blonde, the candlelight flickering across healthy skin and plump red lips. She looked as if she were simply in a deep sleep, and yet, there was no air passing between her lips, no beat of her heart no hum of her voice. No signs of life.

Thorin stepped back from the table, again careful not to trip over curling candles. It was hard now, to look away, for a few seconds he didn’t even know if he could. He had spent nights and days wasted on an ocean of nostalgia, the good, the bad and all that fell between, and yet standing here in front of his friend, he observed how she hadn’t changed at all, not one bit. She still had her youthful glow, her features were as soft as always and it hurt to know the ferocity that used to lie between that perfect image of innocence. Thorin was paying such close attention to detail that he could even see a few beads of sweat dancing their way down her forehead.

Thorin stumbled backwards, crushing a handful of gifts as he did so, his footsteps now loud as they echoed throughout the baron room. Cece hadn’t changed a bit in 29 days. Now, Thorin was no medical expert but he was aware from his past experience with dead bodies, that by now, rigour mortis should have kicked in, the body should have changed colour, blistering should have occurred, and a whole other load of quite disgusting traits. Not only Cece, but Frankie and Rosie also were in the prime of their health (well, if you ignore the bump on Cece’s head, the cuts and bruises that pitter-pattered across Frankie and Rosie’s wound).

“Thorin what is it?” Fili spoke from a distance away, arms folded, his featured doused in curiosity. Thorin tore his eyes away from the three bodies and gaped at his nephews with wild eyes, could this truly be happening? “Thorin,” Fili prompted again.

“Get Oin, now,”

The entire company stood at the side, breaths being held as no one said a word waiting for Oin to give a final statement. Only a few minutes ago Fili had rushed outside the room, his footsteps echoing further and further away as Kili sunk back down to the floor slowly rocking himself backwards and forwards. Fili managed to get a hold of Oin and, once he discussed the matter in hushed tones, the entire company, minus Gandalf, had made their way to the room, sprinting as quietly as they could.

They soon poured into the room, frantically asking questions as they glared at the line of Durin. And soon, before they knew it, the area was being cleared of all gifts and Oin was setting up to work, taking a medical check-up of all the girls.

“Is it even healthy to think there’s a possibility that they’re…” Dwalin trailed off in a hushed tone as he spoke to Thorin, the pair was standing to the side, their eyes fixed on one point. Thorin glanced at where Oin’s hand was currently on top of Rosie’s rib cage, searching for any breath, Thorin couldn’t see any movement but his hope was not tainted.

“One last moment of weakness,” He muttered under his breath, not sure if Dwalin even heard him. They stayed like that for a while, the company in silence as Oin worked his magic. But, eventually, Oin packed up his medical equipment with shaky hands and approached the group.

“They're a bit bruised n' battered,” Oin stared straight at Thorin as he said this, but his mind was somewhere else, something rushing around his head as he thought frantically. “But…” Oin trailed off.

“But,” Thorin said softly, trying to calm his quivering voice. Oin smoothly came back to reality, his eyes focusing gently on Thorin, his bottom lip quivering.

“They’re breathing,”

1 hour later

The room had turned into complete and utter chaos. The entire area had been cleared as high tech medical equipment was rolled into the room, trolley after trolley of sharp metal tools, basins of water and a variety of herbs and essences. Gandalf had been notified of the occurrences and he had rushed down with Lord Elrond and a handful of elves who were the most experienced in medics. The girls now had pillows under their heads and blankets under their bodies, as they were slipped out of their armour, so their breathing could be monitored.

Thorin had turned numb. Everything around him had this magical aura that made his brain ache and eyes burn, nothing looked real anymore. His vision had sunk somewhere back into his skull as everything now had a wishy-washy border and his stomach was constantly churning, turning over and over and over. He had resided onto the steps as talk was happening all around him, people moving, medics calling out numbers that would be noted down on sheets of paper. The world was spinning violently all around him and, yet he could only sit and stare, not able to even begin a train of thought for what he was feeling. Suddenly he was pulled from his dreamy state.

“Thorin,” Came the voice of Elrond, Thorin stood in respect of the wise elf, he’d come a long way, “I have had some of my best medicals reviewing the situation, and they have concluded that yes, the three girls are alive,” Air was quickly sucked through Thorin’s teeth, Elrond, although grimacing continued, “They believe that Rosie, Frankie and Cece are in coma-like states…I guess it’s safe to say that we’ve never seen this happen before, we don’t know what’s going on, but then again that’s always been the case with those three. Right now, we can only hope to learn more when they awake,”

“They’re going to wake up?” Thorin asked, Elrond’s voice was cutting right through the blurry noise around them, searing right into the core of Thorin’s brain.

“Yes Thorin,” Elrond paused as if not sure whether to share this information, “They’re waking up right now,”

Thorin was currently stationed at the end of Rosie’s ‘bed’. She was just like he remembered, the only differences were those that the doctors and nurses had inflicted upon her. Her hair had been cropped a few inches shorter, it now sat around her neck and framed her face a little better, there was a reason for this, something medical, something Thorin had forgotten as soon as the nurse had told him. Her shirt was pulled up to her ribcage to reveal her entire stomach bandaged thickly, her gash turning out to be not as severe as it looked.

To say that Thorin was scared was an understatement. Well, to say that Thorin was feeling anything was an understatement. It felt as though he was sensing everything at once, like all the emotion that had slowly been rung out of him over the past few weeks had sprung up on him all at once. He was watching numbly as an elf wiped away some of the sweat on her forehead with a clean cloth before grinding some herbs in a small wooden bowl.

He concentrated on how the elf’s hands methodically worked, a series of repeated movements. They had structure, organisation and repetition, three traits that had been missing from Thorin’s life in the past year. But then, the bowl was clattering out of the elf’s hands and onto the stone bench as she turned around frantically signalling for another elf doctor a few meters away.

This is where everything happened. People began rushing around like there was no tomorrow, an excited and confused hum began to grow in the room and more and more people began to crowd around Rosie. Thorin didn’t need a doctor to know what was going on. I’m not ready, was the first thought that came to his mind. God, he spent weeks grieving and mourning and he was sure he was going to spend many more, and now, in the space of a few hours, everything had changed.

“Thorin,” He was pulled from his thoughts by a familiar voice, turning he looked up to be greeted with Gandalf’s wise eyes, “Thorin, we’d like for your face to be the first she sees. Normally, we would ask Frankie or Cece but, well…” Thorin expressionlessly nodded in response. Remaining where he stood at the end of the bed as Rosie was propped a little higher on her pillows.

“We’ve got a pulse,” Someone said, but they were far, far away. Thorin felt the breath being knocked out of him as he realised that this was real, this was happening. The world around him came to a standstill, people stopped talking, people stopped doing, people stopped, and they stared. So Thorin scraped out his mind for the right thing to say, words to perfectly express that he was here, right by her and, that he was never leaving ever again. But of course, his mind simply came up blank. So, he settled for a name.

“Rosie,” The word felt weird in his mouth and the fact that he hadn’t said her name in 29 days settled in. Her face, her smile, her weird laugh and her witty words had consumed him these past few weeks, and yet her name had never passed past his lips.

“Rosie,” He said stronger now, something pleading in his voice, and yet she didn’t respond. God how he wished they were alone, if they were alone he wouldn’t feel this heavyweight the status ‘king’ had always come along with, but, he knew that this moment wasn’t just important for him. Rosie was not just his lover, she was so much more to so many more.

Slowly, and then all at once, Rosie’s eyes trembled under underneath her eyelashes before they fluttered open, delicate as a feather. The entire room held their breath as she took low, deep ones, filling the silence with the sound of life. Her baby blues were glossy, unfocused and tainted with confusion as she examined the ceiling above her. Thorin couldn’t take being so far away, he shuffled through the bodies of medics, his heart beating in his throat as he crouched down next to her, his weight causing her to flicker her eyes on him. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes were once more staring at him, but he saw no acknowledgement shining back at him.

“Rosie,” He didn’t know what else to say, he had no other words. The idea that she might not recognise him when she woke didn’t even cross his mind. Rosie simply furrowed her eyebrows slightly as she peeked down at where his hand was gripping on hers. She stared at it for a moment before closing her eyes, letting her head loll back onto the pillow, her eyebrows still intertwined

“Rosanna,” It was a final plea. A desperate note. An unforgiving moment. Rosie’s brows relaxed as her face became once more calm and emotionless, and for a few seconds, it felt as though Rosie hadn’t heard him and the tension in the room neared a breaking point. But then, there was a soft smile and,

“I thought I told you to never to call me that again,”

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