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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 17 days ago

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Zirin u Uzbad

Chapter 41 of ‘A Deep Misunderstanding’. Link to Series Masterlist. Also find it on A03!

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Estel

Translation(s): Zirin u Uzbad: Iron of Kings

This is the first new chapter I've written of ADM in SO long. It feels so odd to be getting back into it, but so right at the same time.

As evening fell, word spread through our company of our plan to raid the armory. Nori disappeared to go do reconnaissance on the location, leaving the rest of us to stay and plan.

Thorin was adamant that we strike quickly and leave that night; an opinion that was unanimously shared by everyone else. I was slightly more skeptical on exactly how that would work.

I didn’t want to stay in this place any longer than the rest of them, but I didn’t think we could pull off such a scheme. There were just too many of us not to be noticed.

Dwarves weren’t exactly the quietest bunch either.

“Once Nori comes back, we can finalize our plan. No use in trying to figure out the details when we don’t even know where the place is.” Gloin offered the words of wisdom. Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group of dwarrows.

I glanced over at them from my spot in the windowsill. Whether on purpose or not, I’d been excluded from the discussion. Or, at least, never invited to participate.

Not that that was important. I had no experience to offer them, so it made sense for me not to be asked my thoughts on the matter. Even if they had, they wouldn’t have liked anything I had to say. Part of being a voice of reason, I assumed.

Blue eyes rose to meet mine as Thorin raised his head from their plotting. He jerked his head minutely, silently motioning for me to join him.

I complied, weaving around Fili and Dwalin to stand by at Thorin’s side. He placed a broad hand on my back, drawing me flush against his side.

“What?” I asked softly, fidgeting with the laces of my shirt as I peered over at the sheet of paper they’d begun sketching a layout on. “You need a woman’s touch or something to whatever chicken scratch that is?” I motioned to the mostly unintelligible lines.

Thorin grinned, shaking his head. “No,” he murmured, leaning down slightly so only I could hear, “I just wanted to have you next to me.”

“Ah,” I nodded, laying my head against his shoulder. “That’s an acceptable excuse too.”

He chuckled, dropping his hand from my back in order to intertwine our fingers. “I’m glad I’m not intolerable to you.” The smile vanished as his face became serious. “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around lately. We’re so close to Erebor…Closer than I thought we would ever get. And the hardest part is yet to come still.”

I squeezed Thorin’s hand. The closer we had gotten to Erebor on this journey, the more Thorin’s moods turned dark. A shadow of something I didn’t recognize, but knew deep down I didn’t like, would flicker across his face.

I had heard the whispers around the fire at night. Of gold-sickness and the Arkenstone. The madness that afflicted Thorin’s family, and was almost certainly the reason why Erebor had been lost.

He worried over it. Was determined not to follow in the footsteps of his grandfather. But feared that he would fall just the same. And that trial had not yet come to pass. It loomed in front of him now that we were in Laketown.

“I will always be by your side, Thorin. You’re stronger than your past, amrâlimê.” I promised, trying to reassure this dwarrow who already had enough burdens to bear. “I trust you.”

A shadow of a smile appeared on his face as he looked at me. “Mahal forbid I do anything to break your trust.”

~~~

Nori’s arrival back brought a flood of new intel. Apparently, the armory was housed in the local jail, and the only access point that wasn’t in full view was a single small window on the second story.

“Are there any guards around it?” Thorin inquired, his hand still grasping mine. “Where is it located?”

“Far as I could see, there aren’t any guards in the place. It’s off a ways from the main bits of this floating slag heap, but the window’s on one of the canals. Doesn’t seem te get used much though.” Nori traced a finger down the map, delineating the canal in question.

Dwalin nodded silently, arms crossed over his chest. “How are ye suggestin’ we get in this place then?”

The grin that Nori wore sent chills down my spine.

“Oh, nothing difficult you know. Just a running start and a strong hand.” He shrugged, “for what I have in mind, you’ll need to be on the bottom.”

The murderous look Dwalin sent Nori’s way had the rest of us cracking up into stifled giggles. Nori being Nori, he had worded the sentence into an innuendo.

“Thorin,” Dwalin hissed, leaning over me to murmur in Thorin’s ear. “Ye canna be serious ‘bout lettin’ ‘im plan this.”

I looked over at the dark haired dwarrow beside me who wasn’t doing a thing to hide his smirk.

“Out of all of us, he has the most experience breaking into places. We need that iron, Dwalin.”

Dwalin sighed heavily. “Ah know we do…”

Thorin clapped a hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “There is a reason why each dwarf is here with us. Nori’s talents have a use, no matter how he happened to come by them. Now,” he turned to the rest of the gathered dwarrows. “We leave here at nightfall. Then once we have the weapons, we head for Erebor.”

Erebor. The word echoed through the group. The shining star at the end of this long journey.

~~~~

Miraculously, fourteen dwarves and a hobbit went unnoticed in the streets of Laketown as we made our way to the armory.

A fog was rising from the dank canals and spreading over the city, which helped our cause somewhat.

But nothing could stifle our heavy footfalls and mutters.

“Shh, keep it down.” Dwalin hissed at Bombur as we hid along the side of the armory while waiting for the pair of guards to wander away on the other side of the canal.

“As soon as we have the weapons, we’ll make straight for the mountain. We cannot delay any longer.” Thorin muttered, giving Nori the nod as the guards disappeared from sight. “Go, go, go.”

The dwarf clambered up the backs of the company, using them as human stairs to get high enough to slip through the window. And, just as he’d told us earlier, Dwalin was on the bottom, giving Fili a boost to act as the last stair.

Once he was through, Thorin nodded to Bilbo. “Next.”

The hobbit repeated the maneuver, awkwardly springboarding off the dwarrows to haul himself through the window.

“Bofur. Then Kili. Then me.” Thorin directed, then turned to me. “You stay down here with the rest. Keep an eye out for the guards.”

“Okay,” I nodded, “but are you sure about Kili? He’s got a wounded leg, remember?” I watched as Kili practically crawled up the last ‘step’ and had his brother practically shove him through the window. Thorin didn’t even turn around to see it.

“He’s fine, Estel. Kili’s gotten himself scraped up more times than I can count. He’s perfectly capable for this.” Thorin brushed my concerns off with a nostalgic smile and a shake of his head before he made his own ascent and forced himself through the small window.

Well, I couldn’t say I didn’t warn the dwarrow, but regardless, I hoped he was right.

With Thorin safely inside the armory, the rest of the company disentangled themselves and stood warily alongside the building.

“Did Nori mention the best way out of here?” I voiced the thought that struck me suddenly. “I know he said they were coming out that door at the bottom, but where are we going from there?”

I looked around at the rest of the dwarrows. It wasn’t like we were going to be inconspicuous with our newfound weaponry.

“To the mountain, of course.” Dori whispered, and I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Yes, I know that part. I was talking about how fourteen dwarves all carrying swords are going to sneak through Laketown without being noticed.”

“We’ll manage. It won’t be the first time for---” Balin’s calm reassurance was interrupted by an ear-splitting crash from within the armory.

We all stared at each other in horror for a moment before the sound of approaching footsteps sent us scrambling.

Thorin. I had a split second to worry before all hell broke loose.

“Run!” Dori yelped, only to stop short when a guard came around the corner and put a pike to his throat.

“Halt!” He barked, motioning over his shoulder and drawing more guards over to us.

“Keep yer head down an’ stay close.” Dwalin hissed under his breath to me as we were pushed forward.

I nodded once, watching as Fili maneuvered himself to flank me as the guards marched us around the corner and past the wagon we had all hidden behind a few minutes ago. The armory door was ajar and the guards stopped us from going any further.

One left us, peering through the door. “We’ve got a group of the dwarves here, Davrel. I assume they’re the companions of yours.”

I rose up on my toes, trying to see past him into the building. There had been no noise of a struggle once we had been apprehended, so I assumed there had been no choice but peaceful surrender.

“Git down.” Dwalin growled, catching sight of me trying to peer around him. He twisted slightly so he could grab my shoulder and shove me back down.

“Keep quiet! Another word and I’ll be seeing which of you can swim.” One of the other men who surrounded us threatened, looking directly at me.

I looked away quickly, trying to subtly hide myself behind one of the larger dwarrows as my heart began to pound.

Almost instantly, I found my mind wandering to what would happen if they found out I was a woman. What they would do differently to me.

The existence of dwarrowdames was a very closely guarded secret. It had become apparent to me very quickly that they—I should say we—were rare. And then Thorin had explained further the status given to their womenfolk because of that. That we were treasured and were to be protected at all costs.

So for a human man to learn what I was….I had heard too many stories about the curiosity of men about women.

A shudder went down my spine, and I suddenly found myself grateful that I’d had the foresight to change back into my original outfit before we left Bard’s house. The skirt would have been a dead give-away as to my sex. Not that there weren’t other obvious things about me that screamed ’female’.

While lost in my thoughts, I didn’t see the quick, subtle hand motions Dwalin made to the rest of the group, catching the eyes of those who didn’t see to make sure they did.

Don’t let them know E. is woman.

A commotion in the armory had us all watching as the rest of our group was led out at swordpoint. I restrained myself from trying to catch the first glimpse of Thorin, allowing myself to be shielded behind Dwalin as they were herded into our midst.

“Think that’s all of them?” The last man out of the building asked to the guard who was leaning against the doorframe.

He shrugged his shoulders, spitting onto the wooden walkway. “Looks to be. Sure are plenty of them.”

“Aye. Won’t make the Master happy at all…” He dropped his voice, the rest of his sentence unintelligible. The other one grimaced, straightening up and grabbing hold of his pike. “Move along, now!” He ordered, and we were funneled down the boardwalk.

Dwalin was almost immediately grabbed by one of the guards, who kept a tight hold on his arm as if they expected him to make a fuss. I drew back, trying to keep hidden in the middle of the crush.

Fili had moved up in the group, arm wrapped around Kili, who was limping. Obviously, his wound wasn’t just a mere scrape like Thorin had tried to play it off as.

The further into the city we went, the more people were gathered. Whispers followed us as we were led straight into the heart of the floating city. Speculations as to who we were and what we were doing.

And then, we were shoved through the crowd and before a towering building that loomed imposingly over the town and its occupants.

I was given a push that sent me stumbling, almost tripping over the uneven planks. Strong hands caught me, steadying me against a familiar broad figure. But just as quickly, Thorin released me, shooting a glare over at a man who I guessed had pushed me.

“Thorin—” I whispered, but he shook his head.

“They cannot know what you are. Stay silent and beside anyone but me.” He murmured quickly, taking a step away from me and allowing Dwalin to take his place.

I shivered as his warmth retreated. Snowflakes were falling gently from the sky, heralding the beginnings of winter. I didn’t fully understand why I couldn’t be associated with Thorin. He was obviously trying to keep my sex hidden from our audience, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t stand at his side.

The place where I felt the safest in this town.

“What is the meaning of this?” A new, irritated voice called out, and all eyes were drawn to the pair of men emerging from the building before us.

“We caught ‘em stealing weapons, Sire.” One of the guards spoke.

So this was the Master….This bloated, overfed man who so obviously rung this town dry of anything it could produce.

“Ah! Enemies of the state, huh?” He peered out at us, pulling his fur-trimmed robe closer around him as a gust of wind blew through the square.

“A desperate bunch of mercenaries, if ever there was, Sire.” The second man spoke in a drawl, prowling out from behind the Master like a cat.

Dwalin bristled. “Hold your tongue!” He strode forward, drawing all eyes onto him. “You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal. This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!” He introduced his friend as though we had reclaimed Erebor and ruled from it. The names of Thorin’s forefathers rang in the crisp air.

Murmurs erupted from the crowd as Dwalin said the last one.

As I stood, watching Dwalin defend my husband, Thorin stepped past me, coming to join him in the middle of the circle. Passing by his friend, Thorin inclined his head, exchanging a look before facing the Master.

“We are the dwarves of Erebor. We have come to reclaim our homeland.” His deep baritone thrummed through the square, prompting a whole new round of excited mutters from the crowd.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach upon hearing those words spoken aloud for the first time. Suddenly, everything seemed…real. Like until this moment, this entire journey—and what we were planning to accomplish—didn’t exist.

Thorin began walking, locking eyes with members of the crowd. “I remember this town in the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbour, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake. This was the center of all trade in the north!

“I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!”

The crowd cheered around us, and I watched as the Master exchanged a look with his black-robed companion. But they were forgotten by all as Thorin gave the crowd hope for their future.

This. This was who he was meant to be. It was so easy for me to see how comfortable Thorin was in this situation. The ease with which he spoke to these people who struggled to eke out their existence.

He was no princeling brought up on tales of grandeur and riches. He had fought tooth and nail to earn his position and do right by his people. He had walked miles in the same shoes as these folk. Thorin had always chosen the hard path over the easy.

That is what earned the respect of these people around us. Why they so easily warmed to him. They recognized the kindred soul who understood their hardships. Who was so different from their current leader who leeched off their hard labour for his gain.

Thorin met my eyes as I watched him from behind Gloin. He smiled minutely, not giving away any hints to those around us who might be watching.

“Death! That is what you’ll bring upon us!” Bard’s voice rang through the air, and he shoved his way through the crowd, passing by me and stopping in front of Thorin. “Dragonfire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all.”

Thorin stared him down for a heartbeat before he turned slowly back to the crowd. “You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; if we succeed all will share in the wealth of the mountain.”

He was unruffled; confident in the crowd’s reaction to his words. But there was still the oliphant in the room.

If. The word we treaded so carefully upon.

“You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!” Thorin boomed, and the crowd erupted again into cheers.

Balin leaned over to whisper in my ear, unable to keep from smiling. “Laddie’s in his element now.”

“It’s in his blood.” I murmured back.

Bard turned to look at the crowd, casting his gaze over them with furrowed brow. Like he didn’t understand why Thorin’s promises were so well received.

How could they not? This was something straight out of a fairy tale—a king returning to reclaim his stronghold and the riches within. I was willing to bet this was the first glimpse of hope these people had seen in a long while.

“All of you!” Bard entreated. “Listen to me, you must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose?”

Women began to shake their heads, gazes cast down to the ground. The men looked staunchly ahead; reliving the tales that had been passed down from their fathers.

Bard swung about to look back at Thorin. “The blind ambition of a Mountain King, so driven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!”

Thorin’s sapphire eyes turned ice cold; his jaw set as if he couldn’t trust himself not to speak out.

The Master cleared his throat, reminding us all that he still existed and was watching this whole exchange. “Now, now. We must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame.” He shook his finger like he was telling off a naughty child. “Let us not forget, that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!”

“That’s the pot callin’ the kettle black, right there.” Gloin muttered to Dori, who nodded.

“Aye, he’s just as much at fault.”

Beside the Master, his lackey nodded sagely. “It’s true, Sire. We all know the story. Arrow after arrow, he shot. Each one missing its mark.” He tsked sadly, managing to not look sorry at all while doing so.

“You have no right. No right to enter that mountain.” Bard’s voice was quiet as he looked down on Thorin.

Mutters ran through the dwarves. I bit my lip, silently disagreeing with his words. He did not understand what we had all gone through in order to reach this point. What we had fought or outrun. What demons we had battled in our minds.

And that was only on this quest. What I knew about the fall of Erebor and all that happened afterwards only scratched the surface of what really went down. The struggles that each and every one of these dwarves had faced. How they had suffered and struggled to make a living hundreds of miles from where they had been born and raised. I could never truly understand, having not been there that day.

Thorin met his gaze easily. “I have the only right.” He murmured, turning away from the man to address the Master. “I speak to the Master of the men of the lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?”

I fully expected the greed of the man to present itself instantly. How could he turn away such riches? But he hesitated, and my heart dipped in my chest.

Thorin asked him again, voice deepening into a command. “What say you?”

“I say, unto you….” The Master swallowed hard before throwing his hands out wide, “welcome! Welcome and rise! Welcome, King Under the Mountain!”

The crowd erupted into cheers. Bard was the only person who seemed disappointed that the Master approved of Thorin. He stood with his back to me so I couldn’t see his expression, but he certainly wasn’t cheering with the rest of the townsfolk.

“Come! Join me in celebrating your return and continued success on your journey!” The Master invited, grinning broadly. “Dine at my table before you set out for the mountain.”

We all exchanged looks. Balin shrugged. “I’ve never been one to turn down a good meal, particularly now.”

“Probably a good bit of ale, too.” Bofur chimed in, and with that, we filed up the stairs and into the Master’s house.

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theredscreech · 2 years ago

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Wild Magic Wild Magic Wild Magic!

Hahahah! All right, here we go!

Wild Magic is the idea of there being slightly more active magic in Middle-earth than in canon. Bilbo and the dwarves camp for the night in a dell Bilbo has heard about from rumours for being Magical. Gandalf isn't there to back Bilbo up, having disappeared most inconveniently to do Wizard Things. The dwarves ignore Bilbo's pleas to move on and, well, come morning find themselves very much not in dwarven shape.

This massive hiccup in the quest brings Bilbo's caring nature to the foreground and, even in the beginning, the dwarves start to recognise and respect that. Most of the fic is from Bilbo's perspective, with some POV switching to various dwarves throughout. (Unfortunately, due to Muse Issues, this fic is on hiatus until futher notice, but I hope to get back to it eventually.)

The Snippet, from Chapter 2:

In that brief second, he realised he would never, ever tell the dwarves “I told you so”. Because they knew now. They had paid dearly for their ignorance and dismissal, and he would never, ever rub that in. Not because at least three of the present Company could maul him, but because the raven had been so clearly panicked and Bofur and Ori were somewhere in this mess. He straightened his spine and said instead, “We should tidy up the camp at least. Have you eaten? I could get something started?”

This was met with deafening silence and the animals – dwarves, he corrected – exchanged glances.

Bilbo shuffled nervously. “I don’t know how long this will last, but it won’t be just a few hours.” He took a deep breath and looked at Thorin (or rather at a point just to the left of Thorin’s front paws). “You need help. I can help.”

And a snippet from Chapter 9, the final chapter before the hiatus (cliffhanger warning, sorry!):

Dwalin was afraid and, oh, how he hated it.

He laboured to keep up. The tight rope around his head and neck served as a cruel mockery of a horse’s bridle and was attached to the wagon, and the only way to maintain slack was to keep walking, so he plodded along behind the wagon that held occupied cages.

Bifur, Bofur, Nori and Fili lay in their confines, some trying to sleep while others stared unseeingly through the bars. Fili, at least, was one who slept; the Man called Hayes had removed the arrow from his wing and staunched the bleeding, and now the wing was wrapped in bandages and secured to his side. He would live, thank Mahal. Bofur, too, was asleep and if Dwalin could be grateful for anything, it was that he had been dumped into a cage instead of kept in that sack; Dwalin had feared he’d suffocate. Bifur was awake and muzzled like him with rope. His gaze was glassy, either lost in a daze that could last hours or drowning in memories. Nori, like Bifur, did not sleep, trying to hide his wincing as the wagon jostled his leg mercilessly. Their gazes met and Dwalin couldn’t even offer a word of encouragement with his muzzle tied shut.

/Dori?/ Nori asked, his whisper barely audible over the creaking wagon wheels and the clop of horse hooves.

Dwalin jerked his nose towards the front of the line. Dori was somewhere up there, his scent almost overwhelmed by the stench of horse and Man. Nori blinked once in acknowledgement and curled up tighter in his cage. Dwalin heaved a sigh and kept walking, knowing it was either walk or be dragged, and despite the fear, he couldn’t help a sliver of hope.

Hope for Thorin, Balin, Oin and Gloin, Kili, Bombur and Ori that they were safe and that they’d found Gandalf. Hope for Bilbo that he was all right, wherever he was. And hope for them all that Mahal had not abandoned them.

If you'd like to check out more, I update with the hashtags theredscreech writing and theredscreech update for all fanfic and writing I do. This fic is also on AO3, if you'd like to go reading!

Thanks for the ask!

#answered asks #theredscreech writing

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amxranthiine · 3 years ago

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BRUTAL (thorin's company x fem!reader) (platonic)

imagine: you, a 17 year old girl from our world, being thrown into middle earth. how would the company react to you listening to, and singing, brutal by olivia rodrigo? (she/her pronouns)

- [ ] it was like a weird dream come true when you were tossed into middle earth like a puppet, and adopted by the company when they found you in the woods.

- [ ] even weirder when you found out you had your phone and earbuds on you, and they worked without wifi!

- [ ] though you didn't bother checking to see if your phone worked until after 2 and a half weeks with the company, and on particularly boring day, you decided to check and see just for funsies (and you were going absolutely bonkers with all the masculine energy around)

- [ ] so, like any normal person would do, the first thing you did was put in your earbuds and turn on your favorite playlist.

- [ ] brutal just happened to be the first song that played, and boy were you overjoyed. in a way, you related to the lyrics. emotions from the expectations from two worlds, as well as being a teenage girl, were built up and in desperate need of release.

- [ ] you were dancing around, well, dancing as much as you could, seeing as you were on a pony

- [ ] singing the song like it was going to save your life! and in a way, it had.

- [ ] but it had also caused quite a few mini heart attacks when the company heard the song blaring out of those little wires. what were they called again?

- [ ] they had never heard anything like it! and your singing, boy oh boy did it terrify them.

- [ ] because you were singing. about dying. and being insecure. and hating your life.

- [ ] i don't think they understand the fact that it was just a song.... even though they've put on quite a few shows in their days.

- [ ] and i'm so tired that i might quit my job, start a new life. and they'd all be so disappointed cuz' who am i, if not exploited?

- [ ] the way you sang so passionately, and aggressively, they were shocked! who the hell are these awful people you were singing about?

- [ ] and i'm so sick of 17, where's my fucking teenage dream?

- [ ] woah, okay, baby human just swore like a sailor. ori nearly got a nosebleed from blushing so hard!

- [ ] kili and fili were silently jamming out to your singing, finding it amusing, and kind of a good song! (don't tell dori that, he was steaming out of his ears for saying these things around ori!)

- [ ] dwalin was kind of getting into it too... a head bop once in a while, or a foot tap in his stirrup.

- [ ] thorin ignored it, as usual.

- [ ] all i did was try my best, this the kinda thanks i get? unrelentlessly upset.

- [ ] gloin was glaring at you. he didn't like you in the first place, and he just found this annoying and needless.

- [ ] nori and bofur were, albeit, trying to sing along with you, but it just came out as muffled words and off-key hums

- [ ] they say these are the golden years, but i wish i could disappear. ego crush is so severe, god, it's brutal out here!

- [ ] at that you were playing an invisible guitar with your hands, banging your head and having no care for anything other than your music.

- [ ] balin, bombur and gandalf were laughing, highly amused by the scene. they all needed something to lift their spirits, and this was... unexpected?? but highly appreciated.

- [ ] bifur and oin were slightly confused... hot really understanding what was happening but still having a grand old time.

- [ ] bilbo was even humming along! he didn't understand what was happening, but he had a grin on his face and was enjoying the show.

- [ ] thorin was thorin. but in a good way? kind of? let's just say, it was easy to tell where the princes got their humor from. the smirk and bright eyes gave it away, mr king under the mountain.

- [ ] they were all kind of concerned for the self-deprecating lyrics, but you didn't seem at all upset by it, so why would they be?

- [ ] by the time the song came to an end, your face was red and sweaty, your throat was sore from singing, and your hair was an absolute disaster. it was still a shock to find 13 dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard all staring at you with smiles on their faces

- [ ] gathering your breath, you huffed and looked at them all one by one

- [ ] "what? it's a good song!"

- [ ] chuckles were heard from everyone, even dori... who had to admit that it was kind of funny.

- [ ] you made the company's day go from bad to great in three minutes.

#lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings oneshot #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings imagines #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit headcanons #the hobbit x reader #the company headcanon #lord of the rings headcanon #thorin's company imagines #thorin's company imagine #thorin's company x reader #thorin's company #the company x reader #the company

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 4 years ago

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(The Hobbit) Thorin x Reader: Dragonsickness and the Heart

(Author’s Note: Well, it’s spring, and usually spring gets me in a hobbit/LotR mood, so here we are. I actually wrote a shameless OC self-insert a few years ago, and decided to just take a section of it an make it a reader-insert.

Warnings: Thorin acts like a lil creep, but in the end he wouldn’t do anything to hurt reader.

While under the effects of the dragon sickness, Thorin says some things... You wonder if it’s the sickness talking, or perhaps it is his true feelings coming out.

Enjoy!)

You struggled with the dwarvish armor, finally letting it fall to the ground. It was much too big and clunky: you could barely stand in it! Thorin had given the order for the Company to armor up, but it didn’t look like it would be possible for you. The clank of metal sounded in the armory around the corner, and you let out an exasperated sigh. You had taken your chosen armor to an empty room to avoid the humiliation as you attempted to try the foreign material on. Even after you managed to finally figure it out, the weight of the metal was too much. You weren’t exactly in the mood for endless teasing on Fili and Kili’s part. Dwalin might even find it humorous and would never let you live it down.

Footsteps sounded around the corner, and you whirled around to come up with an excuse or explanation of some sort as to why you were hiding away like this. To your surprise, it was Thorin, all armored-up and looking…well…looking pretty good.

Even with everything that had happened, after how crappy of a person he had become since the dragon sickness took its hold, you were surprised to feel your heartbeat pick up at the sight of him. He entered the dimly-lit room, eyes flickering from you to the bulky armor lying on the floor. He flashed an amused smile that made you feel weak.

“Trouble?” he asked, pacing over with a raised brow.

“Uh, y-yes,” you mumbled back, unable to meet his intense gaze. You tried to remind yourself that this wasn’t him. He wasn’t himself, yet it didn’t stop your heart from doing flips in your ribcage. “It obviously wasn’t going to fit. I don’t know why I tried anyways.

“Because you’re you,” he responded with a chuckle, prompting a nervous laugh from you. He was being friendly, but there was still something off about him. His voice. He spoke in such a low and silky tone, practically laced with dragon sickness. It made you feel uneasy and not necessarily in a good way.

As Thorin took a step forward, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and flinched out of instinct from being on the road. He noticed and paused, holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. He only meant to give you something, he said. When you nodded, he rounded the corner until he was out of sight. Moments later, he returned with a bundle of armor in his hands though these were different from the weighty pieces you had already tried. He handed you the iron shoulder plates first, and you marveled at the simple designs cast into them. They looked as if they’d been made just for you. Judging by the warmth in Thorin’s eyes, they had been.

“These should suit you better.”

You tentatively accepted the shoulder plates, fiddling with the leather straps that would hold them in place. You tried putting your arm through one loop as if it was a sleeve, but it felt wrong, so you tried a different angle, a different loop…

As if reading your mind, Thorin took and unbuckled it. “Here.”

You gulped as he carefully took your arm and put it through the correct loop. Each movement he made was slow and drawn out, and you wondered for a minute if he was doing it on purpose just to make your heart race. It wasn’t doing anything to help the situations of your one-sided love towards him. You resolved to accept the rest of the armor politely and go find another hidden room to figure it out on your own, but as soon as the shoulder plates were secure, Thorin proceeded to strap on a chestplate. Then he continued with a sort of metal shin guard.

“There,” he said finally, checking some of the straps to ensure they were in place. “You will be much better protected.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, releasing a breath. “Thank you.”

He gazed at you, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “I will do all in my power to make sure you are safe.” Your eyes widened as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You should know I have grown rather fond of you, _________.”

You remained still, absolutely shocked at the unexpected statement. It felt as if your body wouldn’t respond. Surely, he doesn’t actually mean what he says? It must have been some strange effect of the dragon sickness, right?

You had joined the Company early in the journey in hopes of changing the ending. You and Gandalf had an understanding that you would gain the Company’s trust and use your knowledge of Middle-Earth to ensure the line of Durin survived. From the moment you appeared on the dirt path in front of the Company in your modern clothes feeling lost and uncertain, Thorin hadn’t taken much interest other than to bark orders to you or spare a disdained glance at you and Bilbo at your “softness” when it came to life on the road.

Over time, you learned to place your trust in the Company and to do your part so they’d trust you- including Thorin. He and you had started to bond, especially in Lake-Town when you’d spoken to each other outside in the snow during the celebration of the dwarves’ return to the mountain. You even managed to make him smile a few times. You realized that as Thorin had begun to trust you, you trusted him not only as a leader but as a friend, and your affection grew beyond what you’d originally thought.

Still, you wondered if perhaps it was all in your head. Thorin had seen you as young and naive early on, but that was only because of your inexperience in the world of Middle-Earth. Things had changed. Perhaps they had changed more than you thought?

Thorin’s breath disappeared from your ear as he pulled away to circle aroundyou, the armor clanking with every step. You were frozen to the spot, but your lips managed to form words.

“What about Balin? You told him that you felt nothing for me and that you were focused on the quest.”

An eerie chuckle echoed from behind. “I told Balin what he wanted to hear. I told him that so he would not question me any further on the matter, but the truth remains…” His voice sounded right behind you. “I care about you.”

He was saying what you wanted to hear all along, and yet it felt so wrong now. This wasn’t the real Thorin, right? You could not possibly accept this declaration of feelings knowing that he would snap out of it soon enough.

“W-we should go join the others…”

His arm snaked around your waist, earning a gasp from you. “I love you, ________, and I want you to say you feel the same.”

“Thorin, I can’t. You’re not yourself. The stress of the Arkenstone and the battle must be affecting you.”

“My own kin has betrayed me. One of them has taken the Arkenstone. Please, do not turn away from me as well. Say you love me. Be my queen.”

You were left breathless by his words. He had released you from his hold and circled back around to stand in front of you. Thorin leaned in, eyes flickering to your lips briefly. It was beyond tempting. All you had to do was lean in a few mere inches, and you would feel his lips on yours. It was what he wanted, and it was what you wanted…

“I have to go,” you stated, putting some distance between the two of you. Thorin’s lips pulled down in a frown as you stepped around him.

“You’re making a mistake,” he called over his shoulder. “An offer such as this will not come again.”

You hesitated at the doorway, shaking your head. “Then so be it.” And then you left. You didn’t dare look back as you hurried down the halls to get as far away from him as possible. He was crazy. Insane.

And so are you for turning him down, a small voice screamed from within your mind. You could have been his, even for a short time. You could have had his love, even if it was twisted. His kiss. His embrace… It could all have been yours if you had just said so.

But it was wrong, and you knew it, to take advantage of his situation.

“Bilbo!” You halted when you rounded a corner and almost collided with him. “Where are you off to?”

He glanced around to make sure no one was near, holding a long rope coiled up in his hand. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing. I am taking the Arkenstone to Bard to use for bargaining. It’s the only way the people of Lake-Town will get their fair share. Hopefully, we will avoid war.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”

“Thank you, ________,” he whispered gratefully. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

You pulled him into a quick hug. “Be careful. I’ll see you later!” You parted ways with the hobbit once more, him heading for the front gate while you lingered in the corridor. You felt so alone, standing there. None of the dwarves could understand the situation.

It wasn’t the time to tell Bilbo what had occurred with Thorin. It would be yet another dark secret to weigh on you for now, along with the possible fate of the journey.

That night, the dwarves talked and laughed by the fire as usual. Even though they had all of Erebor to go off and choose a room from, the Company still liked to gather together to share a meal and camp out just like old times. Fortunately, Thorin never participated, spending his days and nights in the throne room. You joined the group, glad to have something take your mind off of the recent events. Bofur led the group in a few songs, Fili and Kili told jokes, Nori and Dori bickered and teased each other, Ori laughed along with Bombur, Bifur, Oin, and Gloin.

Balin and Dwalin were in a more solemn mood, but couldn’t help cracking a smile every now and then. At some point, the dwarves started sharing stories of hilarious hardship over the course of the quest.

“But don’t you remember the time in the beginning of the journey when we had to cross that river?” Bofur asked with a grin, earning a few bursts of laughter. “Quite a few of us took a plunge that day!”

“I lost a lot of supplies,” Bombur said with a nod.

“And what supplies you did have left was soaked!” Bofur laughed, slapping his knee.

“I do recall the stew being soggier than usual that night,” Gloin joked.

“Or what about the afternoon when _________ quite literally got sick of traveling?” A teasing grin spread across Kili’s face. “She jumped off of her pony to go throw up in the bushes.”

“Hey! I felt terrible that day!” you protested playfully. “Besides, it’s not like I had ever ridden a pony all day every day for weeks before.”

“The best part was that Thorin scolded her anyway for holding the Company up,” Fili chuckled.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I remember a time when you and your brother were supposed to be watching the ponies and nearly got us all eaten by trolls when we had to go find them.”

“Ooh, that’s cold,” Kili feigned offense, unable to hide the amused grin.

“You don’t miss a thing, lass,” Bofur teased.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. No one asked about Bilbo, or wondered aloud where he was. The hobbit had been spending more time alone as of late, so it wasn’t unusual for him to not join them for dinner. He would return before dawn, you knew, but as each hour passed that evening, you became a little more anxious.

You managed to set aside your worries and let sleep overtake you. You fell into a deep sleep, and a certain dwarf king haunted your dreams that night.

#the hobbit x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #thorin imagine #the hobbit imagine #thorin x you #the hobbit x you #thorin oakenshield imagine #hobbit imagine #thorin reader insert #thorin oakenshield reader insert #the hobbit reader insert #the company reader insert #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin #thorin the hobbit #hobbit thorin

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elvish-sky · 4 years ago

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Peace {Fili x Reader}

A.N: This was pretty easy for me to write. I love Fili, and I have a large fear of spiders. A lot of the reactions to the spiders and feelings of fear are taken from my own various experiences with my panic attacks, anxiety, and various fears. I’m really not sure how good this is, but I kinda like it so… Also I so badly wanted to include Legolas flirting with the reader, but if Legolas flirts I’m gonna make him the love interest, so that didn’t happen. I really hope you like this!

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Can I ask for a Fili imagine or oneshot 👉👈😳 there aren't a lot of blogs who write him. Maybe something with you being absolutely terrified of spiders, mortified even, and the Mirkwood scene? You're still not calmed down when you're taken to the dungeons and he gets protective? I like your blog a lot, you're an amazing writer and person ❤️

Word Count: 1,266

Pairing: Fili x Reader

Summary: You are scared when the spiders attack in Mirkwood, and Fili calms you down.

Warnings: Spiders, fighting, angst, fear.

****

Peace

“Fili? Wh-what’s happening?”

You backed up into someone, and spinning around saw it was the very dwarf you had just called out for. “Get in the circle, Y/N.” He pushed you behind him, holding his blade out as you drew yours. You had all backed into a circle, every member of the company protecting another against the unseen threat. Then, suddenly, Bofur disappeared. Your eyes roamed the trees, searching for him but you did not see a trace. Spinning around, you noticed the absence of Dori, Ori, and Balin. Then Gloin and Dwalin were gone. Next, Kili, Nori, Bifir, and Bombur. Fili cried out for his brother, but there was no answer. Then Thorin and Oin disappeared. You stood back to back with Fili, shuddering.

“It’s gonna be ok, Y/N. We’ll find them. It’s probably just Kili playing some dumb jo-“ and then he disappeared too.

And then you saw the worst sight of your life descending down the tree in front of you. It was a spider. Not just any spider- a very large spider. The size of a horse. You backed up in horror, only to trip over a tree root and sprawl back at the feet of the terrifying creature in front of you.

Scrambling back, hands scrabbling at the ground for anything that could be used as a weapon, you recalled stories told to you by your mother, tales of the spiders of old, of one so big she could devour light itself. Petrified, you kept crawling backwards until you sensed a presence behind you. Slowly tilting your head up, you came face-to-face with another spider. Frozen in terror, trapped between two of the beasts, you watched as a leg descended, hitting you on the head, and then everything faded to black.

You blinked back to consciousness, unsure of where you were or what was happening. The filmy white thing covering your eyes came into focus, and it all came back to you. Thrashing, you attempted to get free of what you now knew was spiderwebs. You felt something on your back, and struck out with your elbow, halting as you heard a voice.

“Y/N, it’s me, it’s Fili. Stay still.” You did, and within seconds you were hugging him, clinging to him like your life depended on it.

“Fili, Y/N!” You heard Kili’s cry and jerked away from his brother. Seeing the rest of the company sprinting away, you joined them. Feet pounding on the soft dirt of the forest floor, you gulped in breaths, trying to get some air into your panicked lungs. You crashed into Kili, who had stopped in front of you, and he righted you in time for you to see yet another spider facing Thorin. You began to shudder in fear, tips of your swords shaking as your hands trembled.

As you watched, a tall blond elf appeared on top of the suddenly dead spider in front of Thorin, arrow pointing at his face. Fili moved to attack, but you held him back as more elves appeared, bows drawn, in the branches and on the ground surrounding the company. And then more spiders appeared from above. The elves dispatched some, the dwarves fought others, and you just stood there, frozen in fear as the battle raged around you. You couldn't move, couldn’t think.

“Y/N!” Shocked out of your fearful stupor by Fili, shouting, you spun to see a spider advancing on you. You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves, before throwing a perfectly placed dagger into one of its many eyes. Even scared witless, your aim was still true, and the spider died instantly.

You looked around the clearing, goose bumps raised underneath your clothes despite the fact that it was not cold. You saw your companions being stripped of their weapons by the elves. One came over to you, and you sullenly handed your twin swords to him. He gestured, and you pulled out the remaining dagger from your boots, and the ones from your thighs.

“I know you are still armed, human.” The elf’s hand was still outstretched, waiting for you to hand over all your weapons. Sighing, still shaking in suppressed fear but putting on a brave face, you reached down your shirt and pulled a blade from between your breasts, and then the one strapped along your spine.

“Wow, Y/N. I did not know you could even keep blades in those places!” Fili, standing next to you being given much the same treatment, was clearly trying to lighten the mood, distract you from the terror he could tell you still felt.

“Haha.” You mustered a fake smile. “I guess I’m just special, then.”

He tilted his head at you, frowning. Fili knew you, he knew that something was very wrong. Normally you’d have a scathing retort for a comment like that. Still puzzling over you, he was shoved into a line, you right behind him, and marched off into the forest.

Arriving at what you could only assume to be the stronghold of the Woodland elves, still not calm, you were marched down to the cells alongside all except Thorin (and, of course, Bilbo. You wondered where the hobbit had gotten too? Hopefully he was alright.) and thrown into a cell with Fili.

You sat, back against the far wall from the door as the golden-haired prince paced the floor. You hadn’t had a moment since the battle to truly process it all, and now, in the silence, it began to sink in. You had been terrified. The mind-numbing, paralyzing fear wouldn’t let you move, think, fight. You were just stuck, and as you remembered your fear for your friends, for Fili, but how you couldn’t move until his voice rang out. Falling back into the terror, mind replaying those moments over and over, you began to shake. Then the tears started falling down your face. You couldn’t help it, your brain truly processing what had just happened was too much.

Fili heard the sobbing, saw you curled in on yourself in the shadows, and quickly sat next to you. You lifted your head at the warmth suddenly emitting from beside you, and your tearstained face was fully visible.

“Oh, Y/N.” The prince was worried. “What is wrong?”

You gulped, trying to stop the sobs so that you could speak. “I just- the- spiders.”

His face softened in understanding. “It’s alright now, Y/N. The spiders are gone. You’re safe, we are all safe.” He placed an arm around your shoulders and drew you close, letting you bury your face in his chest as the sobs wracked your body. He stroked your back, rubbing soothing circles with his hands as your sobs faded to hiccups, and those turned into uneven breathing, until they finally disappeared into the smooth rhythm of your calm, steady breaths. Lulled by his soothing motions, calmed by the rumble of his breathing you could feel in his chest, you faded off into a peaceful sleep. He gazed down at you, hand still moving on your back, and his only thought was how genuinely calm you looked, as if no harm could come to you. He brushed your hair back, admiring your relaxed face. Fili sat there, content with you asleep in his arms, proud of how he had calmed you down. It was silent, the only sound he could hear was your breathing, and despite being captured he felt a strong sense of peace.

Everything tag💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1

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ijustwant2write · 4 years ago

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You'll Outlive Her-Thorin Oakenshield x Reader x Company (Part 2)

(GIF credit to @damon-salvatore)

Part 1

Masterlist

Tags: @andineversawyoucoming

Summary: Although Thorin keeps telling himself that the only love he has for (Y/N) is platonic, Balin can see that he is lying to himself. The company have not so subtly started to baby (Y/N), something which is starting to get on her nerves.

Characters: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader, Bilbo Baggins x Reader (platonic), Gandalf x Reader (platonic), Company x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Arguing, violence/fighting with weapons, blood, death, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The company pressed on with their journey, riding through different terrains and weather, their minds trying to get used to this perilous trek. There was no more talk of age, however, there had been a shift in dynamics within the group. (Y/N) couldn't put her finger on it at first; she noticed the men riding closer to her, more of them were sleeping beside her, with some of them even staying awake for longer to patrol their new campsite. Soon it clicked what was going on, and she wasn't happy about it.

In one way, it was touching that they cared so much for her after only knowing her for a short time. They meant no harm by it, they were looking out for their new friend, it had become a habit for them. However, there were some bad habits that needed to be stopped, and this was one of them. (Y/N) would always volunteer to check out the new areas for their campsite, followed by a round of protests, or the dwarves saying that at least four of them should go with her. She had always been able to climb onto her horse, now she was practically lifted onto it almost every time. It was getting to be far too much.

Surprisingly, Bilbo hadn’t been the worse. His worrying nature wasn’t heightened after he heard of her lifespan. Although it had come as a shock, he was able to recognise that look in her eyes; she was a strong, independent and smart woman, and she wasn’t being seen like that anymore. He obviously wasn’t a skilled Hobbit himself (not in fighting or surviving the great outdoors anyway), he knew how it felt to have these men look at you as weaker. Bilbo could see that it wasn’t out of spite towards (Y/N). Though that didn’t make it any less upsetting to her.

“For the last time, I am able to chop wood for the fire!” (Y/N) exclaimed to Fili as he took the axe away from her.

“We’ve had a long day, I will do it.” He answered smiling back at her.

“Yes, we have had a long day. So you’re probably just as exhausted as I am.”

Bilbo had been listening, quickly stepping in before (Y/N) chopped off something else with the axe.“Um, (Y/N)!”

He almost jumped back when he saw the enraged expression on her face.

“I...Sorry, I just need help with the, the...the uh...horses. Please.”

(Y/N) glanced back at Fili, huffing loudly as she stormed away. Bilbo followed after her, keeping his distance in case she had anymore weapons hidden away. Although there wasn’t a massive difference in height, Bilbo still had a hard time keeping up with her long strides. She abruptly stopped, spinning around to face the hobbit, who had to refrain from yelping. They stared at each other for a few seconds, the uneasiness building.

“Bilbo, what did you need help with?” (Y/N) suddenly snapped.

“Oh!” Bilbo remembered.“They....they need to be tied up properly.”

(Y/N) tugged on the reins, making sure they secure before turning back to Bilbo.“They’re fine. Has someone said something to you to make you doubt yourself?”

“No. I just thought I would stop an argument before it began...between you and Fili.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest as she sighed.“I appreciate that Bilbo but I can stand up for myself.”

“I know you can.”

“No, you don’t understand....wait, did you just agree with me?”

“Yes. I’ve noticed how much the others have been upsetting you. Though I promise that they aren’t doing it to make you feel inferior in any way.”

“I know. But they’ve only started treating me like this since finding out that I don’t live as long as they do. Which doesn’t make any sense, because they aren’t immortal.”

“Perhaps if you sit them all down, they will listen to you. You can try to get them to understand.”

(Y/N) thought about it.“That might work.”

“Yes, yes, let’s all gather around the fire, and we’ll talk about it as a group.”

(Y/N) followed Bilbo as he led them to the rest of the company, all of them watching as the pair approached. She was beginning to feel conscious about herself, trying to come up with the words that truly expressed how she was feeling. She had done this for the past few nights, when tossing and turning as she thought of what she could say to make them all understand. Now that the time was here, (Y/N) seemed to be speechless.

“What’s wrong?” Balin asked, starting the conversation.

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong per say, I mean there is something but-” Bilbo tried to ease (Y/N) in, though it was clear that he wasn’t helping.

(Y/N) interrupted.“I want to talk to you all about how you have been treating me.”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to thank us.” Ori smiled, not meaning to come off as rude.

“Thank you? You think I’m about to thank you?!” (Y/N) exclaimed, shocking them all.

“The boy meant no harm by it.” Dori tried to defend Ori.

“But that’s the thing, you are harming me! You all hurt me every time you treat me like some delicate princess, who-who-who is made of glass, and I’m going to shatter at any given moment if not looked after. It’s infuriating!” She was shouting, a raging fire burning in her eyes.

Gloin stood up quickly.“There’s no need to raise your voice at us, we’re only trying to protect you.”

“See? You’re not even listening now. You’ve all seen me practicing with a sword, you know I can handle a weapon and anyone who dares attack me. Yet all you do is baby me. I don’t need someone to help me onto my horse, I don’t need someone to build a fire for me, I don’t need someone to chop up wood for the fire!”

“Well, that doesn’t sound very grateful!” Oin piped up, grasping into the conversation.

(Y/N) groaned.“None of you are getting it! I appreciate the idea of you all looking after me, but not like this.”

She was met with blank stares which only made her more angry. For the second time that day, (Y/N) left the argument, disappearing into the woods. When the others called out to her she only yelled back at them.

“Can you just leave me alone for one minute?!”

The company were taken back by the outburst, feeling guilty as they reflected on their actions. Thorin had not been in the immediate circle of people, standing off to the side as he watched the young woman reveal her feelings. The dwarves were deep in thought, giving Thorin a chance to easily slip away. He was running, making sure he was heading in the right direction, seeing flashes of her body through the dense wood. They were in the mountains, and as the edge of the woods was in sight, he saw (Y/N) standing on a ledge, looking out at the sun quickly disappearing behind the mountains in the distance.

Her shoulders slumped down.“Thorin, I’m really not in the mood to talk anymore.”

He noticed the shakiness in her voice, deciding to slowly walk towards her.“I know. But even the most skilled fighter needs someone to keep an eye out for them.”

She saw him stand beside her in her peripheral vision.“They aren’t listening to me.”

“They have a deep love for you. It has developed very quickly, hence why they are acting like such fools.”

“Fools?”

Thorin took a deep breath, looking over the landscape before him.“That is what I said.”

“So you agree with me?”

“Yes.” he simply said.

(Y/N) hadn’t had many conversations with Thorin. He wasn’t a man of many words. But sometimes she wanted to. The others spoke to her (even though they were in the bad books), it would be nice to make a real connection with him. Thorin was a legend, he was courageous, knew how to be a leader. She admired him. It was at this point (Y/N) had realised that she had turned to look at him, and was staring for a tad too long at this point. Embarrassingly, the blood was rushing to her cheeks, and she hoped that the last light of the day didn’t show it.

Thorin had felt her eyes on him, and how desperate he had been to look into them. He knew he would be captivated, he would have been reluctant to look away. But judging by her body language, she had become nervous. The corners of his lips twitched up into a barely visible smile; however, there was a thought buried deep in his mind, telling him to not fall for this woman.

“I could have handled it better, don’t you think?” (Y/N) questioned, brave enough to face him.

Thorin still looked into the distance.“You were going to burst if you didn’t say something soon.”

“Wait, so you could see that I was upset?”

“Well, yes, I’m not like the others. I could see how it effected you.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

He was stumped, wondering how the dreamy atmosphere had disappeared. Now he looked at her, the furious expression back again.“It wasn’t my place to say-”

“If a member of your company has a problem, shouldn’t you try to fix it?”

“As I said, I wouldn’t interfere-”

“But it could have caused a bigger problem-”

“Let me finish speaking!” Thorin’s voice boomed, causing birds in a nearby tree to fly away.

(Y/N) realised how worked up she was getting again, actually thankful that he had put her in his place. She mumbled,“Sorry, I know you’re just trying to help me.”

“No, I am sorry, I did not need to raise my voice like that.”

The conversation paused. Thorin was waiting to ensure that it was alright for him to continue.

“This quest is no easy task. We all knew what we were signing up for after reading through those contracts. I only wanted people that would be dedicated, I needed the passion and need from my company to know that they weren’t only here for the potential riches. I know many of these men, so I trust who they think should come along. Gandalf recruited you and the Hobbit, and although I was hesitant, I knew he had chosen you both for a reason. You proved your worth way before Bilbo.”

(Y/N) smiled, memories of poor Bilbo trying to keep up with the rest of the company who were used to this lifestyle.

Thorin continued.“They don’t mean anything by it, their actions I mean, you understand that. But this quest is weighing down on us, and we need to stick together in order to survive it.”

“I am able to protect them too though.”

“I’m sure that if you turned back now, you would receive many apologies.”

She shook her head.“No, I don’t want to go back yet. It’s nice out here.”

“Then if you don’t mind, may I stay with you?”

(Y/N) and Thorin had each thought the other would want silence after that. They were wrong. Somehow, they lulled into another conversation, (Y/N) wondering what life was like when Thorin was living as a prince, and how he stayed motivated to look after his people. He too had questions, not about her past, but her future. (Y/N) was never one for thinking that far ahead, it was her way of life, she was used to moving around. After Thorin asked, she was trying to come up with an answer. She was never opposed to the idea of having one place to stay, sometimes that’s what she dreamt about, perhaps this quest would lead her to the right place. Thorin was pleased with that answer, immediately having images of her beside him, wondering how she would feel about wearing a gown.

The next morning, all tension had disappeared. Thorin had unfortunately ended their time together, knowing that the company would be waiting for her return. He was right about them apologising, and (Y/N) did the same, knowing she hadn’t gone around it the right way. They continued on their journey, with their spirits high and wide smiles on everyone’s faces.

With everyone chatting away, the day quickly passed by, now becoming late afternoon. It seemed that it was going to be another easy day, one of the few left before they started to cross over into dangerous territory. They wouldn’t admit it, but their guards were down, they weren’t as alert, otherwise they would have noticed the people watching them as they stopped by a large stream to collect more water and rest.

“Sh! Someone’s close.” Thorin hushed everyone, hand on the hilt of his sword, everyone copying with their own weapons.

“Thorin Oakenshield, I presume?” another voice called out as five humans emerged from the depths of the wood.

Now everyone was prepared for a fight, weapons drawn at the ready.

“Oh good, we are in the right place boys.”

Thorin stepped forward, but stopped as (Y/N)’s hand shot out. She shook her head at him, cautiously walking forward herself.

“What do you want from us?” she confidently said.

“They’ve got a girl dwarf with them!” another idiot said.

The main man laughed with them.“No, she’s not a dwarf. I’ve seen their women, and believe me, they are ugly looking things. It’s actually hard to tell them apart from the men.��

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at their obnoxious cackling.“There’s more of us than you. Leave now, there doesn’t need to be a fight.”

“What’s a human doing joining a travelling around with a band of grumpy dwarves, a wizard and...is that a hobbit?”

“That’s none of your business. Leave.”

“There’s a hefty price for the king of dwarves. I would like to gain it.”

“You won’t be gaining anything less than a bruised eye if you keep talking.”

“I’ve had enough of this talk,” he reached behind him, pulling two axes out from behind his back,“I will take him with or without blood.”

“You heard the lass,” Bofur shouted,“you’re outnumbered!”

“Oh, are we?”

Six more men emerged from the shadows, all possessing multiple weapons that were at least twice the size of their own. Panicked heads whipped around to figure out their plan. The company still had four more on the humans, but their weapons and fighting skills could hugely effect how this ended. Fighting stances at the ready, the groups waited for someone to attack first.

Impatient with standing around, (Y/N) lunged forward at the closest human, screaming out as she raised her sword at him. The others followed suit, disturbing the peaceful surroundings. (Y/N) had been underestimated by the humans, the thought she would be easy to hold off; however, she was quick to prove them wrong, able to throw out every attack move possible as they struggled to defend themselves.

Thorin had to keep himself focused, but caught glimpses of (Y/N) fighting. She was somehow majestic, as if she were dancing (though with a sword and the music was the cries of pain from whom she attacked). They were doing just fine, they had the advantage of more numbers and a wizard on their side. However, he got too arrogant as he chopped down another human, slicing the back of their knees before stabbing them through the back; and it seemed he wasn't the only one.

(Y/N) cried out as her arm was sliced, instantly clutching onto it as blood began to trickle down to her hand. Although she had only dropped her guard for a second, she was already being attacked again. It wasn't as if she had never been in this situation, but this man was strong.

"(Y/N)!" Thorin yelled.

He barged through anyone that got in his way. Balin's eyes widened at the sight, it was as if they were in the war again, he hadn't seen that fury behind Thorin's eyes for a long time. And he wasn't rushing to save her because she was a friend, there was a deeper meaning behind his actions.

As the human pushed (Y/N) to the ground, she quickly held up her sword, blocking his attack. He was about to repeat himself and jump onto her so she couldn't escape, but was tackled off of her. She gasped, flinching when Thorin swiftly killed the man without him even putting up a fight. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her shocked expression, thinking nothing of it.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he scrambled towards her.

(Y/N) found it hard to form any words."Y-yes, the just cut my arm."

Thorin gently held it, inspecting the wound amongst the chaos around them."It's deep, we'll have to treat it soon."

"Um, Thorin-"

"We need to get you out of harms way."

"Thorin! The others need our help!"

Thorin blinked before realising he had stopped fighting. Looking back at his company before helping (Y/N) to her feet. They charged beside each other, somehow thinking the same thing as they rushed to Nori's aid. The humans that were still alive saw the pair, and were terrified. Those that had an easy getaway took it, sprinting away as the company cheered. Everyone looked around them, realising that the fighting had suddenly stopped.

"Lass, your arm." Bofur pointed at her.

"Don't worry, that's the only cut they got on me." (Y/N) smiled.

"We must keep moving, there's people after Thorin, and there could be more nearby." Gandalf called out, already heading towards his horse.

"Prepare to leave. And someone tend to (Y/N)'s arm." Thorin ordered.

Her arm throbbed as they continued riding. It wasn't the worst injury she had, nor was it life threatening. But the thing really bothering her was her rapid, beating heart.

It hadn't stopped feeling like this since Thorin came to her rescue. It was that same feeling she had when they had spoke the night before. Why had he run to her like that? She wasn't in that much trouble, and he definitely wasn't the closest person to her. And the way he had called out her name, the desperation, the urgency, she had never heard anything like it. It was plaguing her mind, and although she wanted answers as to why he did that, she was too scared to ask. Perhaps she was thinking too much into it, maybe she had hit her head on the ground and had imagined that look on his face; the look she imagined damsels in distress wished to see when their prince came to save them.

It was another night spent resting, meaning another day was gone from the journey. They were becoming the same now; find a safe looking area, set up whilst others patrol, light the fire, cook the food and decide who's turn it is to stay awake whilst the others reted before switching throughout the night. It was decided that (Y/N) would stay up first, and as soon as that was said, Thorin volunteered himself. He made up the excuse that he was the reason they had been attacked, meaning the others should rest up. No one objected.

Balin grabbed Thorin's arm as he followed after (Y/N)."I hope you're not going for any other purpose than to patrol the area."

"We spoke of this." Thorin sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, we did. Remember what we said."

Thorin went after (Y/N), wishing that Balin hadn't reminded him of his fear. It was true, she wouldn't live forever, and there was nothing that could be done to change it, not that he knew of anyway. Perhaps Gandalf knew something that could make her live as long as him, he would ask, change the story so it wasn't obvious who it was about.

The pair were mostly silent as they patrolled the area, making a full circle of the camp before the sat on a fallen tree trunk.

"(Y/N)-"

"Thorin-"

They spoke at the same time, quietly laughing at each other.

"Please, you first my lady." Thorin insisted.

"My lady? You've never called me that before."

"Have I not? My apologies."

"There is not need to apologise. I am not a lady, not in the sense that you speak of anyway."

"It is a force of habit."

"You have been around many ladies then, I presume?"

He chuckled."No, I've been on the battlefield more than I have spoken to a woman."

"You're speaking to me."

"That I am."

"Thorin, I wanted to ask you why you rescued me like that today."

"Like what?"

"I don't know how to explain it. There was something about how you ran towards me. It was as if I was going to be struck dead there and then, or as if I were a close family member that you loved. Although I am truly thankful, I just...you frightened the man attacking me with just a look in your eyes. "

He couldn't bear to look at her, worried that he would be distracted by her dazzling eyes."I have never felt panic like that since...since I saw my grandfather be killed. This is to do with what I wanted to speak to you about."

(Y/N)'s heart was racing again.

"I have been warned not to fall for you. It is clear that my heart will be broken if I were to ever love you. But it's too late."

"Thorin, what are you saying?"

He glanced up at her, relieved to see her smiling slightly.

"I am saying that...I have never been interested in finding that person everyone longs to find. My life has been full of misery. All I have known is battle, death, and having to look after my people. On this quest, I was supposed to find my home, return my people to their rightful place. I did not intend to find a woman along the way."

"But I'm a human. Why would you fall for me?"

"It has nothing to do with what either of us are. You are like no other woman I have met before."

They were brave enough to face each other, not realising that their faces were getting closer together until their noses brushed. There was no more panic, no more hesitation as they gently kissed each other. It was a sweet, calm kiss. They pulled away, but stayed close, eyes locking before leaning in again. (Y/N) hadn't expected this to be so easy, she was kissing Thorin! His mind was screaming too, ignoring everything Balin had said.

"Thorin, are you sure about this?" (Y/N) whispered.

"Yes." he smiled, and it was the most handsome (Y/N) had ever seen him.

"But, this journey, what if-"

"We'll figure it out."

She couldn't say anything else, he was too happy, and he was happy because of her. Although this was a pleasant surprise, she knew the complications ahead. The biggest one being that she was a human and he was a drawf, he was royalty, she wasn't. The judgement they would face scared her. But as he kissed her again, she seemed to find it hard to point these problems out. It could wait for another time, they had plenty more days on the quest.

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soyeahitsmiddleearth · 5 years ago

Text

One Weary Human

The Company x Reader

All of the company is drunk. The twist? None of them act the way you’d expect, like at all. Shy Bilbo is all flirty, chill Bofur keeps wanting to start bar fights, Kili/Fili try to be philosophical, Dwalin is the “You’re my best friend. I just love you so much, man,” type of guy, and Thorin is actually FUN and FUNNY. The reader is just sitting there feeling like she’s legitimately in the fucking Twilight Zone ---middleearth2asgard

---

You knew you should've stopped them from drinking all that ale.

Over and over again you thought to yourself that this night won't end well if you don't put a cap on their drinking, but each time you came close to interfering you kinda just decided that letting them have fun is better.

I mean, they've earned it so why not let them enjoy their first night out of danger after all those awful things that happened? Dragons, trolls, orcs, near-death experiences, a war, thousands of horrible things and one night to unwind and be happy. You can't very well take that away from them.

But you really should've.

By the time they polished off the first half of the barrel of ale they are completely wasted, and it's hard to keep track of them amidst the sea of men, other dwarves, and elves who survived the battle.

Well, maybe not wasted since they can still talk and walk around sort of well, but they're definitely inebriated.

You had maybe a quarter mug of drink before you realized they'll need someone to watch over them, so after that you gave up and decided to make sure none of them do anything stupid (also, ale tastes horrible so you don't wanna finish it).

Which, to some extent, they do.

Act stupid, I mean.

It's just the complete opposite of who you thought it would be.

You honestly thought that your biggest issue would be Fili and Kili, and probably Dwalin, but as it turns out they aren't even close to being a problem.

As it turns out, your biggest issue at the moment happens to be Bofur, Bilbo, and Ori.

Bofur is, quite literally, trying to start a fight with everybody. Bilbo won't leave you alone, and flirting with you so shamelessly. And Ori... won't stop crying no matter what you do.

For the life of you, you don't know what to do.

Every time you tell Bofur to calm down he tells you to square up (more or less), when you try to console Ori he cries even harder, and Bilbo... he has pickup lines for days.

"Bofur! For the last time, sit down and stop glaring at everyone!" You snap, grabbing the back of his shirt when he starts yelling at someone for 'looking at him funny' while also patting the back of Ori's head comfortingly.

"E-Everyone is so mean to me..." Ori sniffles and sobs, reaching up to grab onto your hand, using it to wipe his tears away like a tissue.

You cringe but let the young dwarf do it since he's sobbing so much, and when he releases you, you turn to Bofur.

"Stop tellin' me what to do!" He shoots back angrily, though he doesn't fight you when you force him to take a seat. "Damn woman..."

"Bilbo, please keep an eye on these two while I find everyone else." You tell the small hobbit making heart eyes at you.

"Surely, my dear, you would much rather stay with me?"

You kinda just stare at him for a moment before slowly saying, "Do as I say."

He doesn't reply to that and takes a seat, listening to you surprisingly enough.

Once that's done you slide off your chair and try to find everyone else, noticing Thorin right away since he's... doing stand up comedy?

He's standing on a table and the group that's gathered around him is laughing their asses off, telling him to give them more jokes which shocks you to your very core. This mans is the complete opposite of funny and chill.

"And then I told him that no pretty pixie of an elf will talk to me like that!"

The crowd around him roars with laughter and applause, and while you didn't hear the first part of his 'joke' it still doesn't humor you.

You fight your way through the countless bodies and finally get to the table, cupping your hands over your mouth so he can hear you when you yell, "Thorin! It's time to go!"

"Y/N! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Thorin calls happily, successfully putting the attention onto you. "I've lost my nephews! Have you seen them by any chance?"

Why is he asking you???

You shake your head slowly and reply, "No, why would I know where they are?"

"Well, you certainly seem to know the whereabouts of their tongues quite well!" He calls with loud boisterous laughter while everyone around proceeds to find it funny too.

You kinda just stand there for a moment, looking up at him blankly before your face begins to grow hot.

Okay, you know what? No, you're not dealing with this right now.

Very slowly you begin to back away, trying to both avoid eye contact with everyone and also trying to keep yourself from blowing up on the new king.

Where did he get such an idea from anyway? Freaking dummy.

"There she goes, off to another royal snogging!"

More laughter, but you're disappeared and gone before anyone can poke anymore fun at you for something that most certainly did not happen.

The next person you find, coincidentally, is the princes, and you're pleased to see them sitting mellowly at a table and having a conversation.

"There you boys are! Thank god you're not drunk, if you could please help me to gather-" and then you hear their conversation and horribly slurred speech.

"No, I'm tellin' ya, Fee, there's no way lovin' is easier than being loved. It jus' doesn' make sense." Kili tells his brother while shaking his head.

"Of course it does! When ya love then ya don' have t' worry about your own feelin' anymore, 'cause then you already know."

Are these two really discussing the complexity of loving versus being loved?

"An' how would you know that?" Kili asks, shaking his head back in fourth a bit too much to show his disagreement.

"Tha's none of your busn'ess." He slurs back, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"How can we even be sure that it's real in tha first place?"

"Are you sayin' you don't love me?" Fili challenges.

Kili freaks out and shakes his head, "N-No no! Of course I do!"

"You better, 'm your brother." Fili grumbles, turning his head until he notices you, "Oh! Y/N!"

You're quiet for a moment, kinda just looking at them oddly since their conversation both makes no sense, but also makes all the sense.

They take your silence as a go ahead to continue their 'discussion' and Fili then brings up, "Well wha' about Y/N?"

"What about her?" Kili asks back, laying his head down on the table after a moment.

"Nnoo, 'm askin' her."

"You didn't ask me anything." You chime in, reaching over to take their mugs from them. "You two are making no sense."

"Wellll, I think she would rather be loved since it doesn' make sense tha' loving is easier." Kili grumbles, trying to reinforce his point through you.

"I don't think it really matters at the moment, boys. Why don't you both come with me and we can all take a nap and sleep off our drunkenness..."

"No! It does matter!" They both yell at the same time, successfully earning a sigh from you.

"But-"

"Y/N!" Someone calls excitedly suddenly.

You turn your head slowly, but before you can put a face to the voice, someone it crushing you in a big hug.

"Have I told you that you're an excellent woman?" The person crushing the life out of you asks, and it's at that moment that you realize it's... Dwalin.

"U-Uh, no, not really-"

"Well, that's a shame! You're wonderful." He confirms with a quiet hiccup, holding you slightly tighter when you start to squirm.

"Alright, thank you Dwalin but if you could please-"

"See! My point is proven." Fili slurs triumphantly, pointing at you and Dwalin. "He's havin' a ball, nd' she's freakin' out!"

"That h-haaas nothing to do with love, Fee!" Kili grumps back, smacking Fili on the shoulder harshly.

"Hey! Who do you think yer lookin' at!?" An all to familiar, standoffish voice bellows to your left.

You turn your head and see Bofur trying to get some huge dude to throw some punches, and then you hear more jokes from Thorin across the room, Ori's wails, and Bilbo flirting with some other person.

Mahal save your soul.

"You three." You call suddenly, gaining the attention of Dwalin, Fili, and Kili (the three you thought you would be having the most problems with). "Whoever gathers the most of our friends outside gets a big prize."

Kili gasps and asks, "A big prize?"

"The biggest prize." You confirm, feeling relieved when Dwalin lets you go.

"What is the prize?" Dwalin asks, looking at you with a very uncharacteristic grin on his face.

"I can't tell you, it's a secret until one of you wins."

"Oh, I'm gonna get more than you two!" Fili calls, struggling to get up from his seat before Kili, the two pushing and shoving each other while they fight to stand.

"No fighting or you are disqualified." You warn, wagging a finger at them.

Thank god they listen.

---

You manage to gather the original three (Ori, Bilbo, and Bofur) and Nori, and get them outside of the party hall, trying your best to calm Bofur and Ori while Bilbo keeps on calling you beautiful and complimenting you.

Eventually, Dwalin walks out with two dwarves. Balin (who is sober, thank god) and Dori.

The next person to show up is Kili, and he has Bombur and Gloin.

Finally, Fili emerges from the hall and managed to swipe Oin and Bifir.

You smile at them brightly before you realize you're one short, "Where's Thorin?"

Fili sighs and answers, "I tried ta get 'im but he made fun of me until I left."

That sounds about right.

"I tried, too! But he kep' callin' me names." Dwalin grumbles while Kili nods.

"Yea-h, he kep' pokin' fun at my beard." Kili agrees, looking at the two he gathered, "Who won?"

"None of you, it's a tie." You reply, shaking your head.

A part of you is glad, actually that they all have the same amount, because you have no idea what the supposed 'big prize' is supposed to be. "I'll have to find a way to get Thorin, I guess..." You state wearily, already growing tired of their shenanigans.

" 'm sorry." The three you assigned to help you say sadly, looking at you with big upset eyes.

"N-No, it's fine! Just, keep everyone out here, okay? I'll be right back."

---

Suffice to say you were not 'right back' at all.

The moment you walked back up to Thorin he started making more jokes about you 'being with' different people in the original company, and very quickly does your patience wear thin.

At some point you just lose it and end up grabbing his ear and dragging him out of the party hall while people boo at you for being a fun killer.

Once you've successfully made him leave, you push him out the doors and do a quick headcount to make sure everyone is still there.

You take them all to a private wing where they all have their rooms in as well as a private kitchen Bombur introduced you to.

"Okay, good. Now that we're all gathered up in one place... Come with me to the kitchen. Lets eat a bit and have some water, okay?"

"Is there more ale?" Dwalin asks with the same smile.

"No!" You snap a bit angrier than you mean to, "No more alcohol for any of you."

That successfully shuts them up.

Once everyone is seated at the table in the newly stocked kitchen, you go through the cupboards and collect some berries and bread, bringing them over to the table so they can get something in their stomachs to absorb all that alcohol.

You give them all some chunks of bread and leave a handful or two for everyone (more for the bigger of them), then you walk off to get some water. Balin helps you out with it all (being as he's barely even tipsy), and eventually everyone has water and some food.

It doesn't take long for everything to disappear into their stomachs, and once they've done as you instructed you start to help some of them to their individual rooms.

Nori and Dori drag Ori to the room they share, Balin takes care of Dwalin, Bombur excuses himself and thanks you heartily, but you have to take care of everyone else unfortunately.

First, you deal with Bifir, Oin, and Gloin, which isn't too hard luckily.

Bifir says something you can't understand and gives you a hug before going off to bed, and Oin thanks you tiredly before closing his door. Gloin smiles at you, being less drunk then those left behind, and thanks you as well before heading off to sleep.

Now you're left with Bilbo, Thorin, Fili and Kili, and, finally, Bofur.

When you reenter the kitchen, Thorin is laughing about something he said no doubt, and Bofur is glaring at him so angrily you're afraid he might actually hit him.

"B-Bofur!" You call, running over to stand between them before wrapping your arm around his waist when he starts to wobble and walk towards Thorin.

Right away he stops and leans into you, still glaring at Thorin while he wraps an arm around you in return, "Wha' is it?"

"Come along, I'm going to take you to your room for bed. You too, Bilbo, come here."

Bilbo has no problem walking over to you (though he does sway a bit) and stands next to you while you begin to take Bofur out of the room. "That's a good boy, come on." You usher them both out and, eventually, manage to get Bofur to his room so he can sleep it off.

You shuffle him to his bed, and once he's seated you tell him to take off his shoes. While he does that, you swipe his hat and lay it on the bedside table, pulling his blanket back so he can lay down.

Once he climbs in, you pull the covers up over him and pat his head, "There you are. Go ahead and sleep for me, dear, cause you're going to feel dreadful in the morning."

He closes his eyes while grumbling something about being told what to do, of course he listens nonetheless and doesn't move or say anything else.

You lean down and kiss his forehead lightly, then turn and leave the room.

The door thumps softly when you shut it, and then you grab Bilbo's arm and walk with him to his room.

"You're simply stunning in this light, Y/N." Bilbo tells you, wrapping an arm around you despite being able to walk fine. "Completely breathtaking."

"Thank you, Bilbo. Though, you're going to be mortified tomorrow. I can imagine you'll be begging for forgiveness within an hour of waking up." You comment, opening up his door so you can take him to his bed.

"W-"

"Not a word." You cut him off quickly, knowing that he's going to say something very not appropriate, for both your sake and his.

He climbs into bed without further coaxing, though you do have to take off his coat for him and fluff up his pillow a bit, but once he's nestled under the covers, he doesn't go to sleep.

Instead he stares at you with baggy eyes, and smiles lightly, "You look radiant."

"As you've said a few times, Bilbo. You spoil me." You lean down and press a light kiss to his forehead next, and when you stand up straight again he reaches up and taps your nose.

You giggle softly and grab his hand, placing it back at his side before walking over to the door.

"Goodnight, Bilbo."

"G'night, Y/N."

When you arrive back at the kitchen, Thorin is gone and only Fili and Kili remain, talking about another odd topic once more.

"Where did Thorin go?" You ask, looking around then back down the hall.

"His head hurt, and he went to bed." Kili replies chipperly, smiling brightly.

Well, that does make your job a fair bit easier.

"Alright. Well, boys it's time for bed so come along." You tell them in a gentle voice, gesturing for them to come to you with a wave of your hand.

Somehow they manage to get to their feet, but after they take a few steps it becomes painfully obvious that there's no way they'll be able to make it, like Bofur.

Right away you go over to Kili and have him wrap an arm around your waist, and, somehow, you manage to shuffle forward with him to his brother who is looking very unstable at the moment.

You get Fili to wrap an arm around you as well, and once you've got them both you proceed to, very slowly, shuffle your way to their room.

At some point Kili started to press his face into your neck and Fili began to lean into you more heavily. If it weren't for the fact that you had one of them on either side of you, you probably would've toppled over.

Eventually, you do manage to get them to their room, and once you do you bring them to their beds (there are two).

You have them both sit down and go to light a candle, and once that's done you turn back to see if their laid down yet. Only, their both looking down at their feet as if they expect their shoes to taken themselves off.

With a heavy sigh, you walk over to Fili and crouch down, taking off his shoes with little difficulty. "There you go, now take off your jacket and lay down."

Fili nods his head and begins to shrug off his coat, so you turn and go to Kili, pulling off his shoes next.

Once he's barefoot, you stand and smooth his hair back lightly, "You take off your coat too, okay?"

"A'right." He mumbles, doing just as you said.

You step away and take a few steps; and, once their both laying down, you go to Fili and pull his covers up to his chin.

"Do you sleep with your braids in?" You ask quietly once he's tucked in.

"N't my mustache ones..." He replies with his eyes closed.

You nod, though he can't see it, and reach down and pull the clips off, placing them on the beside table so he can grab them tomorrow morning.

Once he's settled, you lean down and press a kiss to his head, then turn and go to Kili. You're basically on a seesaw with these two, tending to one for a moment before going to the other.

Kili is sitting up with his legs under the blanket, but when you walk over he lays down completely and waits for you to give him the same treatment as his brother.

You grab the top of his comforter and pull it up until it covers most of his chest, and once that's done you reach behind his head and pull the clip from the back of his head, off. "Is there anything else?" You ask softly while placing his beaded clip down as well.

"No..."

You nod, then lean down and kiss his forehead like you've done to literally everyone else.

"Alright. Goodnight then, boys."

#the hobbit #the company of thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield #reader insert #reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #thorins company #bilbo #the hobbit bilbo #bilbo x reader #fili #kili #bofur x reader #bofur #dwalin #dwalin x reader #ori #originally posted on ao3

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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 3 years ago

Note

OHHHHHH 🥺

Thank you dear ❣️

Be sure I will always cheerlead for you 😤

And cursed dragonball au has a special place in my heart already, let's chat about it anytime you want 😂

Of course friend! 😊 Also, I may have gotten a touch carried away with the Thorin's Fourteen AU...

Incomplete and Unedited Drabbles Below!!

Thorin’s fingers drummed against the table as he waited. He took another sip of his drink, relishing his first taste of alcohol since getting out of jail. A few seats down, a couple of off-duty cops laughed and looked around the room enjoying their own drinks. Thorin tried not to tense every time their eyes rested on him. It was ridiculous that drinking was a violation of his parole, but Thorin had to remind himself that here in Bree, he wasn’t in danger of being recognized by every officer. Just when he was about to get up having enough of the unnecessary anxiety attack, he finally sat down.

“Thorin Oakenshield. I thought you had ten years left on your sentence?”

Thorin could have killed the old man, but realized his voice wasn’t loud enough to carry behind him. The cops threw a few bills on the table and left, allowing Thorin to breathe easier. He glared at Gandalf.

“I got off for good behavior, no thanks to you.”

“I did everything I could as your lawyer. The evidence was stacked too far against you to get you anything lighter than a twenty million dollar fine and fifteen years.”

“Meanwhile, I had to watch that snake get away with framing me for embezzlement and take my grandfather’s company out from underneath me. Do you know what he’s turned Erebor into? A fucking casino, Gandalf!”

Real pain shined in the old man’s blue eyes making him look tired and his wrinkles longer.

“I know, lad. I know. If there was anything I could do, believe me when I say, I would.”

“That’s why I’ve called this meeting, Gandalf.” Thorin smirked, leaning in slightly. “I have a plan. A plan to steal the Arkenstone and topple Smaug, once and for all.”

“Oh?” The lawyer raised his eyebrow. “And is this plan something accomplished by legal means?”

Thorin gave him a hard glare, refusing to answer that. Besides, he knew Gandalf could already guess his answer. The older man nodded at Thorin’s silence and took a sip of his drink.

“What you are suggesting is very dangerous and has a very little chance of succeeding. Furthermore, you’re going to need quite a few extra hands to pull this off. Hands that may not exactly be clean.”

“So Balin, Dwalin, Oin, and Gloin are still loyal to me. I know where to find my old cellmate, Nori, and I think I can get him on board, possibly his brothers too. And, unfortunately, my nephews probably have too much time on their hands and I can’t imagine them listening to me if I try to keep them out of it anyways.”

“That makes ten.” Gandalf nodded. “I have a client by the name of Bifur who has two cousins who would probably aid you well.”

“There’s thirteen.” Thorin shrugged, thinking that was more than enough.

“I think we need one more.” Gandalf argued. “And I know just where to find him.”

***

Bilbo was trying to keep his eyes to his book as he rode the train back to the Shire. He went to Bree for a nice shopping excursion, but he was ready to be back in his armchair in his quiet, comfortable parlor. He hated crowds. Years of conditioning had him constantly aware of his surroundings. Who would make good marks? Who would be less likely to notice a missing wallet or jewelry? Who are the people watchers who would notice something amiss? He shook his head and tried to concentrate on his book again. However, the man directly across from him with the wallet careless stuffed in his jacket pocket almost seemed to be begging for it. The train announced the Hobbiton station, and Bilbo hopped up to move towards the door, ready to get off as soon as possible.

“Excuse me.” An older man apologized after bumping into Bilbo.

He gave a tight smile while subtly checking that his wallet was still there. When everything appeared to be in order, he gave a quick ‘it’s fine’, and jumped off the train. He was a couple of blocks away when he looked down to see a slip of paper had been inserted in between the pages of his book. He pulled it out to see it wasn’t a simple piece of paper, but a business card.

Gandalf Grey, Attorney at Law

Written on the back was a single sentence that had his blood running cold.

I would have expected Belladonna Took’s son to have made that lift.

A location was given after that. The Green Dragon. Who the hell was this Gandalf Grey?

***

“So lad? How did it go?” Balin asked cheerfully after Bilbo made it back to the warehouse.

“I’ll tell you. You lot can certainly pick them.” He complained, earning Thorin’s attention.

“Were you seen?” The taller man demanded.

Bilbo scoffed. “What do you take me for? Of course, I wasn’t! I’m just saying this man is as meticulous as he is ruthless! Do you know he has his own elite, questionably legal, security detail he lovingly calls the orcs? The last person who tried to steal from Smaug was gutted and then had his brother-in-law’s bakery seized!”

“Oh yes, I heard that as well.” Balin nodded.

Thorin frowned. “I thought it was the uncle’s gas station?”

“Maybe his son’s car wash?” Balin offered after a moment of thought.

“Does it matter?!” Bilbo attempted to pull their attention back to the main issue.

“Are you scared?” Thorin mocked with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you suicidal?” Bilbo shot back.

Thorin smirked almost grudgingly before shrugging. “Only in the mornings. Now, what did you find out about Smaug?”

***

Everyone started filing out of the back of the van, quickly and quietly. Bilbo moved to follow only for Thorin to put his hand on his shoulder, pushing him back inside.

“You stay here.” He growled.

“Are you serious?” Bilbo demanded.

Thorin glared back. “Yes. I need to be able to predict everyone’s movements in order to pull this off, and frankly you’re too much of a wild card. Stay, and maybe I’ll trust you with more.”

Bilbo glared at the man long after he disappeared inside the university.

“Cheer up, Mister Boggins.” Kili tried to appease from the front seat. “Uncle made us stay behind too.”

Great, he was nothing more than a child in Thorin’s eyes.

“You want to play twenty questions?” Fili offered.

Bilbo groaned as he held his head between his knees.

“Alright. I’ll go first!” Kili volunteered.

“Are you a man?” Fili asked.

“Yes. Nineteen.”

“Are you dead?”

“Yes. Eighteen.”

“Durin the Deathless.”

“...Damn it!”

Bilbo let his head hit the side of the van. This would be the longest twenty minutes of his life.

“Hey, Mister Boggins? What’s that?”

Bilbo looked over only to see a flashlight sweeping the grounds, followed quickly by another.

“Shit! Those are guards.”

“What do we do?” Fili asked nervously.

“You two stay here and try to remain inconspicuous. I’ll draw them off.”

Bilbo was out of the van and across the lawn before either brother could protest. Not even thirty seconds later, the rest of the crew appeared with the device in hand. As they loaded it into the back, Thorin’s eyes scanned the van realizing instantly something was amiss. Where was Bilbo?

“Fili! Kili! Where’s Baggins?” He demanded.

“He went to lead some guards on a wild goose chase.” Kili offered nonchalantly.

Thorin groaned as he punched the door.

“What do you want to do, Thorin?” Dwalin asked with a knowing look.

“Drive down to the end of the road and give us twenty minutes. If we’re not there by then, just go. I’ll get the damn idiot.”

***

Bilbo took a few seconds in the elevator to catch his breath. Smaug was more terrifying than he ever imagined.

“Alright Bilbo.” Ori spoke through the earpiece. “You are disappearing from their feed in three, two...you are now the invisible man.”

Bilbo nodded as he shed the glasses and jacket. Time to get to work. The elevator came to a stop, and Bilbo jumped up to open up the ceiling tile under the light. Only he shorted it by two inches.

“Come on.” Bilbo groaned to himself trying again.

This would be terribly embarrassing if he couldn’t get out of the fucking elevator because he was too short. He reached down to get the grappling hook out of his briefcase. It was supposed to be used later, but desperate times. When he looked back up, he gave a quick yelp of fright to see Thorin’s smiling face.

“What the hell?” He demanded.

“It’s my stone, my building, and my plan. You didn’t really think I was going to sit this out, did you?”

“Didn’t trust me?” Bilbo snipped as he took Thorin’s outstretched hand.

The taller man gave a slight grunt at the strain, but Bilbo was too mesmerized by the flexed bicep inches from his face. Once he was close enough to the top, Bilbo reached out and helped Thorin out by pulling himself out of the elevator. When he finally got his footing, he looked up to find Thorin uncomfortably close. Bilbo’s throat became dry as he tried not to focus on the sweat gathered in the hollow of his throat.

“You should know by now, Mister Baggins, that you have my full and complete trust.” Thorin growled.

Bilbo swallowed and tried to focus on Thorin’s eyes, and his eyes only. Not how beautifully fit Thorin was in that tight black shirt, and certainly not on those lips the man’s tongue had just wet.

“Bofur’s just about ready to go. Are you and Thorin in position?” Ori’s voice brought him back to the present.

Bilbo cleared his throat several times with the promise of later. This could all be explored later when they weren’t in the middle of a job.

“Close enough.” He mumbled back.

#ocean's eleven au #bagginshield #small headcannons I have with this:#thorin has building blueprints Dis found in the attic that reveal a secret entrance #the pinch scene = the trolls scene #their plan to steal the arkenstone is actually closer to the plan to steal the egg in ocean's twelve #azog works for smaug and it gets heated at the end!

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bookbomburisunderrated · 3 years ago

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“UUUGHHHHH why does everyone mischaracterize bombur as the helpless fat guy who is hopelessly obsessed with fooooooooooooooooooooood?

"Now we are all here!" said Gandalf, looking at the row of thirteen hoods-the best detachable party hoods-and his own hat hanging on the pegs. "Quite a merry gathering! I hope there is something left for the late-comers to eat and drink! What's that? Tea! No thank you! A little red wine, I think for me." "And for me," said Thorin. "And raspberry jam and apple-tart," said Bifur. "And mince-pies and cheese," said Bofur. "And pork-pie and salad," said Bombur.

- The Hobbit Ch 1

there is no undue obsession here

“Now for some music!" said Thorin. "Bring out the instruments!” Kili and Fili rushed for their bags and brought back little fiddles; Dori, Nori, and Ori brought out flutes from somewhere inside their coats; Bombur produced a drum from the hall; Bifur and Bofur went out too, and came back with clarinets that they had left among the walking-sticks. Dwalin and Balin said: "Excuse me, I left mine in the porch!" "Just bring mine in with you!" said Thorin. They came back with viols as big as themselves, and with Thorin's harp wrapped in a green cloth. It was a beautiful golden harp, and when Thorin struck it the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that Bilbo forgot everything else, and was swept away into dark lands under strange moons, far over The Water and very far from his hobbit-hole under The Hill.

- The Hobbit Ch 1

my people, drums are heavy.

Thereupon the twelve dwarves-not Thorin, he was too important, and stayed talking to Gandalf-jumped to their feet, and made tall piles of all the things. Off they went, not waiting for trays, balancing columns of plates, each with a bottle on the top, with one hand, while the hobbit ran after them almost squeaking with fright: "please be careful!" and "please, don't trouble! I can manage." But the dwarves only started to sing:

- Ch 1

see, Bombur working with the others-he pulls his weight. Thorin is being lazy here.

Just when a wizard would have been most useful, too," groaned Dori and Nori (who shared the hobbit's views about regular meals, plenty and often).

- Ch 1

(Notice a distinct lack of Bombur’s mention, here!)

With sacks in their hands, that they used for carrying off mutton and other plunder, they waited in the shadows. As each dwarf came up and looked at the fire, and the spilled jugs, and the gnawed mutton, in surprise, pop! went a nasty smelly sack over his head, and he was down. Soon Dwalin lay by Balin, and Fili and Kili together, and Dori and Nori and Ori all in a heap, and Oin and Gloin and Bifur and Bofur and Bombur piled uncomfortably near the fire. "That'll teach 'em," said Tom; for Bifur and Bombur had given a lot of trouble, and fought like mad, as dwarves will when cornered.

Ch 2

Oh! Why look there. Bombur actually, along with Bifur, was teh best fighter? Do tell!

Still goblins go faster than dwarves, and these goblins knew the way better (they had made the paths themselves), and were madly angry; so that do what they could the dwarves heard the cries and howls getting closer and closer. Soon they could hear even the flap of the goblin feet, many many feet which seemed only just round the last corner. The blink of red torches could be seen behind them in the tunnel they were following; and they were getting deadly tired. "Why, O why did I ever leave my hobbit-hole!" said poor Mr. Baggins bumping up and down on Bombur's back. "Why, O why did I ever bring a wretched little hobbit on a treasure hunt!" said poor Bombur, who was fat, and staggered along with the sweat dripping down his nose in his heat and terror.

- Ch 4

Don’t let Bombur’s exhaustion distract you, Bombur is actually being entrusted with doing the carrying (notice he doesn’t shirk in carrying Bilbo or go on a full blown rant of resenting Bilbo needing him.) They are ALL deadly tired! THEY!

“They found them as quick as ever they could, you can guess; and up they went as high as ever they could trust the branches. You would have laughed (from a safe distance), if you had seen the dwarves sitting up in the trees with their beards dangling down, like old gentlemen gone cracked and playing at being boys. Fili and Kili were at the top of a tall larch like an enormous Christmas tree. Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, and Gloin were more comfortable in a huge pine with regular branches sticking out at intervals like the spokes of a wheel. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and Thorin were in another.” - Ch 6

Bombur has no trouble climbing a tree.

“ In came Bifur and Bofur. "And me!" gasped Bombur puffing up behind.”

- Ch 7 Keep in mind that it’s a five minute speed walk between beorn and the dwarve’s waiting spot.

It was only too true. Bombur had only one foot on the land when the hart bore down on him, and sprang over him. He had stumbled, thrusting the boat away from the bank, and then toppled back into the dark water, his hands slipping off the slimy roots at the edge, while the boat span slowly off and disappeared.

- Ch 8

As you can see, contrary to PJ’s depiction this is not Bombur’s remotest fault, it’s a Deer Ex Machina.

Also, Bombur is clearly fighting the current and the enchantment.

“They could still see his hood above the water when they ran to the bank. Quickly, they flung a rope with a hook towards him. His hand caught it, and they pulled him to the shore. He was drenched from hair to boots, of course, but that was not the worst. When they laid him on the bank he was already fast asleep, with one hand clutching the rope so tight that they could not get it from his grasp; and fast asleep he remained in spite of all they could do.”

- Ch 8

No matter what any one tells you, Tolkien is being crystal clear here. The fall was the result of a deer ex machina and Bombur did everything he could.

AND THE POINT OF WHAT HAPPENED AFTERWARDS WAS THAT BOMBUR WAS TREATED LIKE FRACKING GARBAGE

He woke up suddenly and sat up scratching his head. He could not make out where he was at all, nor why he felt so hungry; (hasn’t eaten in a weak, may explain all of the intense distress) for he had forgotten everything that had happened since they started their journey that May morning long ago. The last thing that he remembered was the party at the hobbit's house, and they had great difficulty in making him believe their tale of all the many adventures they had had since. When he heard that there was nothing to eat, he sat down and wept, for he felt very weak and wobbly in the legs. (hasn’t had anything to eat for a week) "Why ever did I wake up!" he cried. "I was having such beautiful dreams. I dreamed I was walking in a forest rather like this one, only lit with torches on the trees and lamps swinging from the branches and fires burning on the ground; and there was a great feast going on, going on for ever. A woodland king was there with a crown of leaves, and there was a merry singing, and I could not count or describe the things there were to eat and drink." "You need not try," said Thorin. "In fact if you can't talk about something else, you had better be silent. We are quite annoyed enough with you as it is. If you hadn't waked up, we should have left you to your idiotic dreams in the forest; you are no joke to carry even after weeks of short commons."

This they did all that day, going very slowly and wearily; while Bombur kept on wailing that his legs would not carry him (we have no good reason not to believe him) and that he wanted to lie down and sleep. (poor chap) "No you don't!" they said. "Let your legs take their share, we have carried you far enough." A) What the **** B) What the **** C) What the **** D) Bombur is not the bad guy here don’t try and make them out to be l All the same he suddenly refused to go a step further and flung himself on the ground. "Go on, if you must," he said. "I'm just going to lie here and sleep and dream of food, if I can't get it any other way. I hope I never wake up again."

AND THEY NEVER SAID THEY WERE SORRY!

#bombur #the hobbit #jrr tolkien #misblamed #listen

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writingfromkitchenator · 4 years ago

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How do they react upon discovering you can’t cook? (Hobbit Edition)

Request a head cannon

Masterlist

Thorin – Thorin found it hilarious, he knew he shouldn’t, but the more tales you told him of your mishaps in the kitchen, the more he laughed. After one particular story, he had tears in his eyes from laughing and it actually made you smile to see him so. Despite it all though, he promised that if it was something you really wanted to do, then he would arrange for you to be taught and under very careful guidance, but that he also didn’t mind either way, not being able to cook was of no bother to him.

Balin – He was surprised when you told him, mostly because you had just blurted it out one day while the two of you were on a stroll. He had wondered why you had said it like that when you burst into tears. It took some time, and more than a little poking and prodding, but he eventually got the answer out of you, how you wanted nothing more than to give him a proper home, but being unable to cook meant that you couldn’t do that. He had simply smiled, admitted that he couldn’t cook either, and promised that two of you could start learning together, as there was no way he was going to let you go after something as simple as that.

Dwalin – There was no denying it, Dwalin was a little devastated, especially when you said that baking was definitely your worst skill. He had sulked for quite a while, even to the point of avoiding you, at least until his brother found him and asked him what he thought he was doing, in which, he then had to face your wrath over it. Luckily for Dwalin, Balin mediated and got you to be calm about it as Dwalin talked, apologising profusely and that he wasn’t about to let his stomach get in the way of his heart.

Fili – Fill already knew of your inability to cook, it somewhat a tale amongst dwarves how you'd made Thorin and Dain quite ill after your mother forced you to help during one of their meetings. You were a little worried about meeting Thorin again, but Fill laughed it off. "As long as you promise not to look for him again, he'll be fine. As for me, I honestly don't mind. I've learnt more than enough skills to manage for both of us."

Kili – It was on one of your first dates. You'd invited him over after he'd told you he wanted some quiet time alone together, where the two of you could talk without getting interrupted. As smoke filled your kitchen, you honestly questioned why you'd ever thought that this was a good idea. Kili had burst in full of worry, and he helped you clean up, before laughing himself silly when you told him the truth. He quickly disappeared before returning with two meals and telling you not to worry, he wasn't much of a cook himself.

Bofur – He was an utter sweetheart about it, as he was with most things. He convinced you to tell him of some of the disasters that had happened, and in true Bofur fashion, he proceeded to make up several rather comical songs about it all, leaving the two of you in giggles.

Bombur – When Bombur suggests the two of you cooking a meal together, he can’t help but chuckle at your horrified expression. Everyone knows the stories of your adventures with cooking and that they were glad that you had found someone that was more than happy to cook for you. Bombur knew this, but he also knew that you weren’t above learning how to cook as long as you had a good teacher, which he is, and that you took things slow. You weren’t convinced, but you reluctantly agreed.

Bifur – It was honestly a good thing that Bofur and Bombur had been close by the first time it happened, stopping a potential disaster in its tracks. You were sure that Bifur had understood at the time, but once the axe was finally gone from his head, you certainly had a take to tell him, Bofur and Bombur having to confirm it, eventually making him laugh and promise to cook for you from now on.

Oin – He was for too old to be worrying about such a thing and had always told you so, ever in your early years together. If that was what the two of you had been dealt, then so be it, you would make do with what you had, and maybe he would take up cooking as well as healing. It didn't matter who cooked, as long as you could enjoy the meal together.

Gloin – It had bothered him at first, it didn't follow traditional standard at all, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that this was something you could share and learn together. They mightn't be perfect meals, but they were warm and hearty and good for a loving soul, that was all that mattered in your growing family and home.

Dori – Dori had made a joke about it, surprising you, this not normally being how he handled things. He proceed to comfort you though, still chuckling, assuring you that he was rather happy to cook for the two of you at any time.

Nori – He had tried to make a joke about it, saying the two of you could just steal proper meals as you needed them. When you clearly weren't impressed, he quickly changed his tune about and suggest that two of you learn, possibly off of Dori. the then tried to make more of a joke about it, and this time you finally relaxed back to your usual self.

Ori – Ori admitted it just as quickly as you and there was an awkward silence between the two of you as you both slowly realised that this conversation had to go somewhere. It took a little bit of effort, and some major assistance from Nori, but eventually you convinced Dori to teach the both of you so you actually had a chance as surviving a life together, especially if he couldn't be around.

Bilbo – If hobbits loved anything more than life itself, it was food, so it was almost taboo when they discovered you couldn't cook. When you first told Bilbo, he'd observed you for a long moment before he smiled gently, told you that everyone else was being pompous and ridiculous, and that he could cook well enough for both of you. Some things were more important than food.

Bard – You hadn't expected it to come up so quickly, but when Bard had asked you to watch his children, you had little choice. It had faltered him for a moment before he smiled and told you that there was left over stew, all you had to do was heat it up and serve it, no actual cooking required. From then on, Bard always made extra, often taking it around to you, joking that he couldn't have you starve, as much as payment for looking after his children.

Thranduil – He shrugged it off at first, after all, you didn’t need to cook, but he soon worked out that it was something that bothered you. It took some time until he could get the real truth out of you, and he was less than impressed by what you told him, your family having teased you relentlessly about your cooking skills until you feared to even step close to a kitchen in fear that something would happen. Thranduil then promised to make it up to you, in any way that he could, because he would not have you being in fear or worrying about anything.

Legolas – The first question out of his mouth was "Why?". You'd stared at him mouth agape, and he quickly realised that this had been the wrong thing to say, quickly apologising, not having meant any insult. It had been out of general curiosity that he'd asked. You wished you had a better answer than "I've always been terrible at it.”

Beorn – Beorn’s first reaction had been complete panic, having been returning home and getting the awful whiff of heavy smoke in the air, making him hurry to you, only to find you outside, next to very dark pile of something, holding your nose and trying to get it to stop burning as you waved a cloth at it, occasionally coughing. He’d been quick to pick you up, startling you, and carrying you well away from it before he asked what had happened. Beyond embarrassed, you explained about your cooking skills and how you’d just wanted to make him something nice. Beorn had just stared at you for a long moment, making you a little nervous trying to work out what he was going to say, but all he did was smile and shake his head, picking you up again to take you somewhere to get cleaned up.

Lindir – He’d frowned at you and asked why you would bring it up, as your duties had no relation to the kitchens. You tried to shrug it off, saying that you just felt it was something he should know, but he knew you better than that. Eventually he got it out of you that you worried about starting a family, and not being able to provide properly. Lindir smiled and kissed your forehead gently, telling you that, when it happened, everyone would jump into help without hesitation, therefore you had nothing to worry about.

Frerin – As soon as he saw how upset you were by this admission to him, he pulled you securely into his arms and asked if there was anything he could do to help you through it. When you told him that no amount of lessons had helped, he offered to take some with you, so the two of you could work it out together, if it was what you really wanted. If that didn’t work, then he’d show you a truly terrible cook, proceeding to tell you about a couple of incidents that Thorin had had already.

#the hobbit #headcannons #kitchenator answers

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lablass-2882 · 4 years ago

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Hobbit Soulmark Au (Prolog)

So.......Hi...... ummmm..... This is taking way longer then I thought it would take; so have a snip-it of the prolog in a fan-fic that I’m writing. Enjoy!

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Thorin’s POV.

*One Week-ish of the Battle of the Five Armies*

Thorin’s body ached.

It was a deeply set ache, one that settled pass the muscles and into his very bones. Thorin hated this ache but he knew it well. Exhaustion was finally taking over his body. As much as he hated it, he also welcomed it. It was the same ache that racked his body when his grandfather died. The same ache that pushed him to provide for his people when exiled. And the same ache that drove him to make desperate fool’s quest to retake Erebor. But. It was not just, his bones that ached.

His heart ached too.

His heart ached and broke every time he slept. For when he slept, he saw the one thing that he couldn’t have back. Or the one hobbit that he couldn’t have back. Bilbo. Gods be dammed, Thorin missed them. This heartache was far worse than any wound that he had ever received. For it was a wound that would not go away. Well not easily anyway. Balin had told Thorin that his scars would heal with time, but Thorin seriously doubts it. The wounds left by his grandfather’s illness never healed, nor did the wounds left by his brothers passing or his father’s disappearance. Why would losing his soulmate be any different?

When Thorin had first woken up after the battle he had been briefed on everything that had happened after he defeated Azog. All matters but one.

Where was Bilbo?

Thorin had sworn that he had seen them on the battlefield shouting that the eagles were coming. The eagles had indeed returned and they had played a key part in ending the bloodshed. But. They had also dropped a rather large rock on Thorin’s head. One that left a rather nasty scar above his right eye and caused him to lose consciousness for a solid three days. No one spoke of Bilbo and the longer they stay silent the more his anger built. With a snarl on his lip and a harden expression Thorin pressed the matter. But no answer came, only silent looks if horror. Dwalin, was the one to finally break the silence.

“They’re gone Thorin.”

“Gone!? Gone in what way, Dwalin.” It was more so an order then a question.

“We.... we… found their coat among the dead. It……. was torn to pieces…... and cover in blood.” Dwalin paused before taking a long breath. “A body hasn’t been found……. It doesn’t look good.”

Thorin let out a low growl before responding to his brother in arms. “Search the grounds. Knowing Bilbo, they probably crawled into a hole somewhere. If they’re hurt….... they… they might not be conscious.” Thorin tried to calm himself. He needed to be rationally. “Or… or invisible if that blasted ring is with them.” Thorin tried to push the thoughts from his still hazy mind. No. He would not think about Bilbo being captured by the Orcs, or shot by an arrow…. Or …. or dead in a ditch somewhere. No. They… They had to be alive….

Dwalin sighed. This wasn’t an argument that either of them could win. “We’ve done that Thorin. Several times. You have been out for three days…. you…”

“Search again!” Thorin roared. “I’ll do it myself if I have to”. Thorin moved to get out of his cot when Dwalin and Gloin stop him. He growled to be let go when Balin spoke up.

“Your foot is broken; your knee is dislocated; you have several blade wounds and a concussion. We’ll search the grounds, Thorin. You have to stay here. It’s for the best.”

Thorin’s mumbled response was too low to hear but he did as his advisor said. “If you find anything… anything at…”

“You’ll be the first to know” Balin insured “Please Thorin get some rest. There is a lot to rebuild.”

At the moment, Thorin felt truly helpless.

The following weeks were a blur for Thorin. The rest of the company didn’t fare much better than him. Dwalin had barely escaped an archer’s trap and Balin miraculously had crawled himself out of a collapsed tunnel with only a few scraps.

The Ri brother had their assortment of battle scars, Nori having the worst. When an Orc had threatened to behead Dori, who was protecting an injured Ori and Kili; Nori’s rage boiled over and the crazed dwarf charged the bloody beast head on. Whatever grudge that the Ri brothers had between them, it died that day.

Thorin’s nephews were worse for wear. His sister Dis was definitely going to kill him once she returned. Kili had a broken leg and a dislocated shoulder. Fili had taken the back end of a hammer to the head and nearly lost an eye to a sword. Not to mention a jagged cut that bisected his back. Both boys had infected knife wounds and were exhausted to the point of fever. Fili was in and out of a fever dreams for weeks and Kili, the fool, tried to attack Thauiral when he ordered Tauriel back to Mirkwood. If Dis didn’t kill him, keeping track of his injured nephews would.

Bifur and Bofur both were racked with infection from numerous wounds. Bombur was beside himself with so much guilt that he refused to eat. It didn't last long, but it was too long according to his cousins.

Gloin had several arrow wounds along with a broken knee cap and Oin was working himself to exhaustion as the only healer in Erebor. Thorin will forever thank the gods for the caravan of dwarven traders that showed up a week after the battle. About a third of the groups were healers or mages and were study dwarven folk that could stitch up a wound if need be. Most surprising of all was when the groups senior healer turned out to be Gloin and Oin’s half-sister Eir. It had been a touching reunion for the company and a much-needed morale boost.

Thorin spent most of his days trying to rebuild. He would wake with the dawn and refuse to sleep till his body begged for it. Exhaustion was his only cure for the guilt. The guilt of being so easily affected by the cursed gold. The guilt of nearly killing his countrymen over a simple stone. The guilt of killing his soulmate. Even if Bilbo hadn’t died by his hand it was his fault.

HE had been the one to ignore their pleas for help.

HE had been the one to banish the heartbroken hobbit from his site.

HE had been the one they fought to save during the battle.

If it wasn’t him, Bilbo would still be alive and well.

So, he works. And he plans, and then he works some more. All in the effort to rid the guilt from his mind. For if he is too tried to dream, then he is too tried to think of them.

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The next one will have more fluff I swear! The prolog is setting the stage for the fic and ironically is being written in stages. I’m about a third of the way through it. Anyway, have a lovely holiday season. Peace out.

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bowieandqueen11 · 5 years ago

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Dangerous Business / Bilbo Baggins Imagine

Request: Ello! I was wondering if you could write something for Bilbo where he meets her/he/they are with the gang when they come into his house. And they are very polite to him and try to keep things clean and stuff like that, also maybe she could be a elf of something. If so thank you! 🥺💕

Okay, this is genuinely really cute! Also, sorry about my posting schedule, I’m in the middle of exam season but I’m going to try my best <3

Comments really do keep me writing, and thank you so much for each one of them!

‘No, no, please, put them down - they were my grandmother’s, and her mother’s before that! Please - no, you can’t sit on that, it’s an antique!’

The only thing to pay attention to Bilbo’s protestations against the dwarves was the falling sun, and even she was slipping to hide behind the hillside of Bag End, her warmth disappearing over the merry fields. The sun, of course, and you. You found the whole place so charming, the babbling brooks that flew and fizzed over the stones as the other hobbits sang and danced and brought in their crops under the weight of their wagons. The place, even during this night, seemed so bright and cheerful, and in the case of Bilbo, charming, you suppose.

‘Kili, would you get your feet off the poor hobbit’s jewellery box’, you say as you stoop down through the wooden circular door. He only smirks at you, giving his foot one more stamp for good measure before he wanders off with Dwalin, arm around his shoulder and down the hallway into the dining room.

‘Thank you’, Bilbo manages to puff out, feet pattering quickly past you as if fireworks were snapping at his heels, going to survey what was left of the contents of his pantry. You try to stifle a smile, the small, beady eyes of the hobbit barely visible under the mountain of swords in his arms.

‘No, no! There’s nobody home! If this is somebody’s idea of a joke, I can only say that it is in very poor taste!’

It was too late, however. By the time Bilbo had finished telling of Gandalf, the rest of the company had already scuttered in.

‘Put that back! Not the jam! And the cheese! That’s a bit excessive, isn’t it?’

‘He eats it by the block’, you murmur to Bilbo, who only stares up at you with shocked eyes before you grab the plate of Bombur and try to place it back on the shelf. Kili accidentally elbows you from behind, squatting down to fill his pint of ale. This, doubled by the sound of Ori burping in close proximity behind you makes you stumble forward slightly in the small space, but Bilbo quickly takes his eyes off of Fili walking barefoot on his antique dining table to reach his two hands up and steady you.

‘Thank you, Master Baggins’, you say with an amused smile, enjoying the slight tinge of his ears as he lets you go.

‘Not a problem’, he puffs out, clenching his hands back into the fist and glancing down at the floor, anywhere, in fact, to stop staring at you. He knew staring was rude, and the one thing he wouldn’t forget in front of guests was his manners. In addition, it frightened Bilbo to think that although he’d never seen an elf before, he already knew you were the most beautiful of them all.

No, that wouldn’t do at all.

‘Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go look after the more troublesome guests.’

The curve of your lip tugs upwards as you give a bow of your head. Gently, you put the leftover plates back onto the cragged shelves, watching the hobbit storm off back into the corridors of his home with an intense curiosity.

Ori and Nori wave at him from where he stands in the doorway, arms crossed and steam nearly boiling out of both ears. But they only laugh, Gloin clapping his hands together as the feast raged on, mushrooms, fresh greens with tomatoes the size of peas, rare roast beef slices as thin as paper, cheese that melts on your tongue served with sweet blue grapes, anything they could of dreamt of.

That was, until a series of knocks raged through the poor hobbit’s home, and the dwarves froze, ice seeming to cover the walls as the last visitor arrived at Bilbo Baggins’ house, and the real business began.

The armchair cushions take the form of Bilbo’s body and he finds it more blissful than any other day he can imagine. The hours will pass, just him, and he allows himself to smile for the first time that day. No Gandalf, no contract, no fainting, just him and his books and some peace in the Shire.

‘No, it’s silly, I am a Baggins of Bag End. I just can’t go running off into the blue’, he murmurs into his tea. The fire dreams in its iron bed, cozy in the metal that glows. Her flames transform the wood into the most transient of beauties, hot ribbons of light. There are times it sparks, as if it wanted more than one crazy way to dance, as if it needs to leap, to fly, willing to land where it may. Bilbo only shakes his head, as if in disagreement with himself without even knowing.

‘I’m just the wrong hobbit for the job.’

‘Do you really believe that?’

Bilbo’s head jolts upward as if awakened from a dream. His eyes grow wider than usual and take on a wild look as he scans the room for the source of the voice, until he settles on you sitting in the nook by his bookshelf. He sighs in relief, settling back into his chair.

‘You scared the daylights out of me, you know.’

‘It’s good to finally meet you, Bilbo Baggins’, you say, glad to finally have this chance to speak with him. ‘I’m sorry my friends have ravaged your home and stolen all your food.’

‘Well, it’s been a while since I’ve had company, so there was plenty to share’, he replies, relaxing slightly with the warmness of your tone. ‘I’m sorry, I’m afraid i didn’t quite catch your name.’

‘Y/n.’

‘I’m afraid you’ll think me awfully rude, but I’ve never met an elf before.’

‘That’s because you’re so afraid of stepping outside your door, Bilbo Baggins, master burglar. If you join our company, you’ll see there’s more to be afraid of than just gentle rain in your garden, but there are things more beautiful than just sunlight in your doorway. It’s a dangerous business, Master Baggins, but one worth it all the same, if only for the taste of an unforgettable adventure.’

Your bright eyes glinted in the pale light of his living room, like moonlight reflecting on a shimmering pool. With your long, elegant lashes blinking patiently, Bilbo found it was almost hypnotizing to watch them, and it was making him lose concentration and spill scalding tea down onto his breeches and waistcoat.

‘You will be coming along, you say.’

‘For as long as I am needed, or wanted.’

Bilbo blows over the rim of his glass, eyebrows furrowing as if in thought.

‘Well, perhaps I could reconsider.’

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the-marvel-ous-hobbit · 4 years ago

Text

To Slay A Dragon: Ch. 5

Summary: A short stay in Rivendell.

Word count: ~6800

A/N: Happy holidays! Thank you for all the support so far :)

part four ||

The staircase takes us on a long, winding path down into the valley. At the bottom, a stone bridge spans the gorge. It’s barely wide enough for two human-sized people to walk side by side, and a quick glance over the edge sends my stomach into panicked flips. If anyone were to ever choose to attack Rivendell, they would have an extremely difficult time.

Gandalf leads the way across the bridge with long, confident strides. The Dwarves follow more cautiously, and I take a couple of deep breaths before forcing my feet onwards. Bilbo walks close to my side, though his head whips back and forth so rapidly my heart trips over itself.

Through the intricate archways bracketing the bridge, I glimpse the elegant white buildings I saw from above nestled amongst a vast array of trees, shrubs and flowers I can’t even begin to name. It’s unlike anything I have seen before in my life—such ancient, serene beauty could never be found between the surly mountains and weary cities of Skyrim.

With each careful step, a stillness seeps into my body through my boots, easing the vertigo-induced nausea. The warmth in my chest floods to my fingers and toes, chasing away the residual tension left from the encounter with the Orcs.

For the first time since beginning this journey, I feel almost at peace.

The bridge leads us into a large, circular courtyard. A waterfall gushes over the cliff behind it, a soothing background roar in the stillness of the evening. The Dwarves drift about the space, their heads tipped back and eyes open wide. Thorin remains still, his brow furrowed and arms crossed as his company swirls about him like a current around an anchor. Bilbo hasn’t stopped smiling since we emerged from the passage, his green eyes alight with unrestrained joy.

“Mithrandir.”

A figure dressed in dark purple robes descends a staircase across the courtyard. Gandalf turns, as though they had called him by name.

“Ah!” He beams. “Lindir.”

Lindir echoes Gandalf’s smile, extending a hand in greeting. His skin is pale and ageless, his features a contrast of sharp angles and smooth planes. A silver circlet glitters across his brow, and the tips of his pointed ears peek out beneath a sleek curtain of dark hair cascading down his back.

I pat my own short hair, wincing at how matted and filthy it feels beneath my fingers, and how ragged the ends are from being sheared with a knife. Though we may be distantly related, I could never hope to look so refined and effortlessly beautiful as this Elf. I can’t recall ever feeling self-conscious about my looks—I’ve never had the time or energy—but now the scar on my face seems to mock me.

The Dwarves’ irritation is tangible enough to raise the hairs on my arms as Lindir speaks to Gandalf in a language I assume is Elvish. The Wizard casts a look in our direction before replying in the common tongue.

“I must speak with Lord Elrond.”

Lindir’s placid expression doesn’t change. “My Lord Elrond is not here.”

The air shifts again as the Dwarves shuffle and mutter. Thorin glares at Gandalf hard enough to set his robes on fire.

“Not here?” Gandalf repeats. “Where is he?”

The jarring blast of a hunting horn echoes somewhere behind us. A dozen horses thunder towards us, barely slowing as they cross the bridge.

“Close ranks!”

Solid bodies crush close, knocking the breath from my lungs. I barely have time to draw the Blade before the horses enclose us in a rotating wall of steaming bodies. The usually comforting smell of sweat and sweet hay fills my nose. Clattering hooves and rattling armour drown out the Dwarves’ agitated shouts.

The Elves whose faces are uncovered by helmets gaze down their perfect noses at us, unfazed by the weapons pointed in their direction. They draw to a halt as one and silence descends, broken only by the Dwarves’ heavy breathing. I lift my chin to stare at the nearest Elf. He regards me with a faintly quirked brow. I scowl harder.

“Gandalf!”

I’d almost forgotten the Wizard was there—I can barely see him past the wall of horse and metal penning us in like farm animals. Gandalf greets the rider of a beautiful black stallion with a smile that I suspect is partly amusement at our expense.

“Lord Elrond!”

The Dwarves grumble again as Gandalf steps forward to speak to Lord Elrond in Elvish. Even in Gandalf’s gruff voice, the words seem to dance in the air between them like music. Bilbo stands on his toes in a vain attempt to see over Dwalin’s head.

Lord Elrond dismounts and embraces Gandalf. He moves with a purposeful, fluid grace that holds my attention captive. He shares Lindir’s pale skin, ageless face and flowing dark hair, but his features are strong and broad where Lindir’s are fine and delicate. The circle of silver across his brow sparkles in the dying light.

“Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders,” Lord Elrond says in the common tongue, passing a sheathed sword to Lindir. His voice is deep and smooth, each word precisely formed. “Something or someone has drawn them near.”

“Ah, that may have been us.”

At Gandalf’s gesture, the Elf-lord turns to survey us. His gaze snags briefly on me, sending a jolt down my spine, before coming to rest on Thorin. Thorin takes a few steps forward, followed closely by Dwalin. The others surge to fill the gaps, flanking them on every side.

Elrond inclines his head slightly. “Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain.”

Thorin lifts his chin. “I do not believe we have met.”

“You have your Grandfather’s bearing,” Lord Elrond says, and it almost sounds like a compliment. “I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain.”

“Indeed? He made no mention of you.”

I gaze up at the pale pink sky, inhaling deeply through my nose. If Thorin ruins my hopes of a bath, I’m going to murder him. Treasure be damned.

Elrond keeps his dark, steady gaze on Thorin’s face as he says something in Elvish. The words are like the whisper of a breeze through the boughs of an ancient oak, and though I don’t understand them, something within me responds. The dragon lays its head down and listens.

“What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?”

A ruckus breaks out, shattering my brief moment of calm. Gandalf cuts in quickly before the Dwarves can actually start a brawl right there in the courtyard.

“No Master Gloin, he’s offering you food.”

Whilst the Dwarves huddle together to discuss the implications of accepting the offer, Bilbo glances at me with an expression that perfectly mirrors my earlier thoughts of homicide. I don’t see what possible need there is to talk about it—if I don’t eat something soon I won’t be responsible for my actions.

Luckily, the Dwarves don’t take long to reach a decision.

“In that case, lead on.”

To my immense gratitude, we are escorted to a large, open-air pavilion with a perfect view of the sunset. Three tables occupy the centre of the mosaic-tiled floor—a circular one at Elf height, and two at a more comfortable level for Dwarves and Hobbits, separated by a small walkway with an empty pedestal in the middle. Elves dressed in flowing white float around the space like dandelion seeds carrying trays and covered platters. Along the open edge overlooking a vertical drop into the valley, a string orchestra plays a gentle, soothing tune.

The company—minus Thorin, who has disappeared somewhere with Gandalf and Lord Elrond—crowd around the two low tables. I fold myself onto the cushions beside Bilbo and inspect the spread, which consists of bowls brimming with salad, platters of colourful vegetables and mountains of fruit arranged like works of art. Crystal jugs brim with rich plum wine—the smell alone is enough to make me giddy.

I resist the temptation to fill my glass only when Fili flops down beside me, close enough to jostle my elbow. He grins and winks at me, but barely breaks the animated conversation he’s having with Dori, who sits down beside his youngest brother.

Ori’s picks up a lettuce leaf, wrinkling his nose at it, and Dori instantly turns into a mother hen.

“Try it,” he urges. “Just a mouthful.”

Ori looks at the lettuce as though it has personally insulted him. “I don’t like green food.”

The air fills with grumbling as I reach for the nearest plate of vegetables. I’m in no position to deny a free meal. I catch Fili’s raised eyebrow and shove the platter at him a bit too quickly. He grins again, his rough fingers brushing mine as he takes it.

What is it about this fair-haired Dwarf prince that gets me so rattled?

Movement beyond the tables and circling Elves distracts me from the unbearable proximity of Fili’s knee to my thigh: Gandalf and Lord Elrond weave through the orchestra towards the high table, their profiles outlined in gold and pink from the west. Our host has changed out of his armour into a flowing robe of gold satin that shimmers in the soft light. Beside him, Gandalf looks every bit the vagabond he was mistaken for on the night we first met.

“Kind of you to invite us,” Gandalf says as they pass between our tables. “I’m not really dressed for dinner.”

“You never are,” our host replies with a smile.

Thorin follows several paces behind wearing his usual scowl—I think I would be alarmed if he smiled. His passage doesn’t go unnoticed—the Dwarves all but stop what they’re doing to watch him pass. His eyes flit between them all, quite obviously skipping over me and Bilbo, and he gives a slight nod before trudging after Gandalf and Elrond to the high table. I squash down the prickle of annoyance at the blatant shun and concentrate on my food, keeping my eyes on my plate in case my expression gives anything away.

After several weeks of travelling with them, the Dwarves’ attitude towards me seems to be shifting. I wasn’t sure of it before, since I always made an effort to keep my distance whilst we were on the road, but now that we’re all in close proximity it’s clear that some of their suspicion has been replaced by obvious curiosity. Some of them still take great pains to ignore me—namely Dwalin and the older ones—but the itch of probing eyes on my skin is incredibly distracting.

I look up once during the meal to find Ori openly staring at me. Dori’s elbow shatters the beat of discomfort before I can decide whether to try for a smile. He gives me a look that douses my insides with cold water, and I drop my gaze back to my plate.

Suspicion has been my shadow ever since I can remember, but its constant company is no easier to bear. Even if I have no intention of forming relationships with these Dwarves, it might be nice to actually have a conversation with one of them.

How soft I’m getting in my old age.

A flash of light draws my attention to the high table. Lord Elrond has a sword balanced across his palms and is inspecting the blade with great interest. With some effort, I tune out the music and the Dwarves’ noise—apparently Kili has just said something uproariously funny—and focus on his voice.

“This is Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver,” he says with a note of fascination as he holds the sword up towards the sun. “A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West. My kin.” He passes the sword to Thorin with a slight nod. “May it serve you well.”

Thorin sits ramrod straight in his chair, feet dangling absurdly above the ground and shoulders like granite beneath his mane of dark hair. He’s poised for a fight, as though he expects Elrond to launch across the table and throttle him at any second. It must be hard for him to be surrounded by the people who abandoned him in his hour of need—that’s the sort of betrayal you don’t just get over.

Elrond turns his attention to Gandalf, and I stomp down on that sympathetic thought process before it can go any further.

“And this is Glamdring, the Foe-hammer,” Elrond says as Gandalf offers up his blade for evaluation. “Sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the Goblin wars of the First Age.”

Bilbo shifts beside me, pulling my attention away from Elrond’s explanation of the Goblin wars. He draws his dagger partially from its sheath, inspecting it beneath the table. Something tightens in my abdomen—I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable seeing a blade in Bilbo’s hand.

“I wouldn’t bother, laddie,” Balin says from Bilbo’s other side, “Swords are named for their great deeds they do in war.”

“What are you saying?” Bilbo asks. “My sword hasn’t seen battle?”

Bushy white brows draw together over a red nose. “I’m not actually sure it is a sword,” Balin tells him. “More of a letter-opener, really.”

Bilbo hurriedly sheathes the dagger. Despite myself, I frown at Balin over Bilbo’s head. Though it’s a little concerning that Bilbo seems to be growing more interested in the dagger, I still hate the disappointment he’s trying so hard to keep off his face. I think about patting his arm, nudging his shoulder, anything to bridge the distance and bring him some semblance of comfort. But my hands remain in my lap, and the moment passes.

“How did you come by these?” Elrond asks, passing Glamdring back to Gandalf.

“We found them in a Troll-hoard on the Great East road,” Gandalf tells him with a mouth full of bread, waving the goblet held precariously in his right hand. “Shortly before we were ambushed by Orcs.”

“And what were you doing on the Great East road?”

Thorin’s chair scrapes back as Gandalf snaps his fat mouth shut. All eyes follow him as he strides past us. A few of the Dwarves exchange glances, but Thorin’s unpredictable moods aren’t enough to distract them from their food.

Elrond watches us across the courtyard. “Thirteen Dwarves, an Elf and a Halfling.” He catches my eye and I freeze under the weight of his gaze. He regards me with faint curiosity, his head tipped slightly to one side as though I’m another artefact to inspect. “Strange travelling companions, Gandalf.”

“These are descendants of the house of Durin.” Gandalf gestures at the Dwarves, defending them more readily than I would have guessed given the events of the past few days alone. “They’re noble, decent folk—“

Nori stashes something inside his jacket that looks suspiciously like a salt cellar.

“And they’re surprisingly cultured—“

Bombur shoves a handful of lettuce into his mouth and chews with his mouth open.

“They’ve got a deep love of the arts—”

“Change the tune, why don’t you?” Nori complains at the nearest harpist. “I feel like I’m at a funeral!”

“Did somebody die?” Oin squints at his ear trumpet.

Bofur slams his hands on the table, upsetting the nearby crockery. “Alright, lads!” He turns to me and tips his hat. “And lass, of course. There’s only one thing for it!”

Bilbo flinches beside me as Bofur climbs onto the pedestal between the tables and launches into a rousing tune. The Dwarves immediately join in, prompting a bewildered stare from our host and a resigned eye-roll from Gandalf. I snatch my plate and goblet from the line of fire and settle back to watch the carnage.

Food flies around the courtyard, splattering against spotless white pillars and statues like paint. The expression on Lindir’s face makes me choke on a mouthful of apple—clearly this is his first experience of Dwarven table manners. I settle back on the cushions, cheered by the song and Lindir’s wrinkled nose. Gandalf takes another swig of wine.

After dinner, the Dwarves settle in for the night in a modest but cosy set of rooms with an open balcony that overlooks the lower portion of the valley. I choose a corner and tuck myself into it, aching and exhausted. The Dwarves still seem full of energy, laughing and throwing things at one another in their usual boisterous way. I take out the Blade and a cloth, tucking my legs close and bending over my work, trying in vain to block out their noise.

Over the laughter and shouts, a murmured conversation pulls my attention away from the Blade. Gandalf, Balin and Bilbo stand in a small cluster away from the group. After a brief discussion, the three of them set off into the still night. I wait a few seconds, then tuck the Blade back into my belt and follow.

Along the path, which winds gently uphill from the guest house, a figure awaits the trio in the semi-darkness. Thorin’s eyes glitter in the silver light of the lanterns illuminating the walkways. He glances briefly at Bilbo, but the darkness and distance disguise his expression. Ultimately he says nothing, and joins the others as they continue along the path.

None of them speak as they walk, impeding my progress as I struggle to keep my footsteps silent. Sneaking around has never been my forte, despite Brynjolf’s efforts to teach me the skills coveted by the Thieves Guild. Eventually he was forced to admit that stealth just isn’t something I’m capable of, and I’m much better suited to charging at things head-on.

By some miracle, Gandalf and the others remain unaware of my pursuit until they reach their destination: a large, dome-shaped building atop the hill which, upon entering, reveals itself to be some kind of museum. Elrond’s extensive knowledge of those swords suddenly makes sense—there are artefacts of all kinds on display, from paintings to full suits of armour. Though many of them bear signs of age, every single one is polished and free from any dust. The room is open and airy, free of the must and damp synonymous with old things.

Intrigued as I am by the collection, I almost don’t notice when Gandalf and the others come to a halt in the centre of a room with a large, circular hole in the ceiling. Shafts of moonlight spill into the room, providing ample light to see by and illuminating the regal figure of Lord Elrond. His dark eyes examine each of them in his quiet, probing way. I quickly duck behind a wall and a conveniently-placed and probably ancient vase, only daring to peek my head out once Elrond clears his throat to speak.

“I am pleased you have come,” he says. “How may I be of assistance?”

Thorin doesn’t miss a beat. “Our business is no concern of Elves.”

Gandalf’s robes rustle, his staff scraping the floor as though sharing his annoyance. “For goodness sake, Thorin. Show him the map!”

Thorin folds his hands before him, shoulder’s straight and eyes fixed on Lord Elrond whilst Balin paces back and forth at his side. “It is the legacy of my people. It’s mine to protect. As are its secrets.”

Elrond watches Thorin with the endless patience granted by immortality. I’m reminded suddenly of the Greybeards—Lord Elrond exudes the same quiet power, the same level and faintly unnerving stare and soft, resonant speech. Though he has done nothing to even hint at a desire to harm us, I can’t help the uneasy feeling in my stomach that insists he would be more than capable.

“Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves,” Gandalf mutters. He gestures at Thorin with his staff. “Your pride will be your downfall. You stand in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond!”

Thorin’s eyes glow piercing blue in the moonlight. For a moment he seems about to refuse again, but instead he reaches slowly into his doublet and pulls out the map.

“Thorin, no!” Balin grips his arm, but Thorin doesn’t take his gaze off Elrond as he steps forward to hand over his precious map.

Elrond unfolds it, handling the parchment with careful precision. “Erebor.” His brows meet at a sharp angle over his nose as he looks at Thorin. “What is your interest in this map?”

Before Thorin can open his mouth, Gandalf steps in. “It’s mainly academic. As you know, this sort of artefact sometimes contains hidden text.”

I’m not sure who he thinks he’s fooling, but Elrond is already moving away towards the back of the room and a large stained glass window. Thorin shoots Gandalf a grateful look.

“You still read ancient Dwarvish, do you not?” Gandalf asks as Elrond angles the map inside the cascade of moonlight.

“Cirth ithil,” he murmurs.

“Moon runes? Of course.” Gandalf glances at Bilbo. “An easy thing to miss.”

“Well in this case, that is true,” Elrond says. “Moon runes can only be read by the light of the moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written.”

That sounds unnecessarily complicated.

“Can you read them?” Thorin’s voice is unusually soft, a deep rumble that sends vibrations through the stone under my feet.

Gesturing for them to follow, Elrond leads the way through the back of the hall to a narrow, rough-hewn passage in the rock. Water thunders in the distance, covering the sound of my boots on the tile as I creep after them.

Bilbo lags behind the others, pausing occasionally to take in some of the items in Elrond’s collection. He’s so close I could reach out and touch him.

My toe catches on something solid, sending a stab of pain through my foot. I yelp, and Bilbo whirls, catching me before I can dive around a corner. His eyes and mouth open wide, and he glances over his shoulder towards the passage.

“What are you doing?” he hisses.

I shake my head, clutching my throbbing foot. “Nothing. I was just curious, that’s all.”

Gandalf’s voice echoes off the walls. “Bilbo?”

“Coming!” He offers me a hand and hoists me back into a crouch. A small smile eases the tension in my jaw as he releases my hand. “I won’t tell,” he says.

He turns to head through the hall. I steal after him, ducking behind a rocky protrusion as we emerge onto a wide ledge beneath a roaring waterfall. Bilbo angles himself in a way that conceals me from the others, but still allows me to see Elrond peering at the map.

“These runes were written on a mid-summer’s eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago. It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell.” Elrond lays the map gently on a stone slab near the water. “Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight.”

As if on cue, the crescent moon emerges from behind a cloud, its light spilling onto the ledge and across the map. Thorin sidles closer to the map, still keeping a healthy distance between himself and Elrond. Bilbo tries to lean around Gandalf, and I shift position as much as I dare. A faint blue glow emanates from the parchment that definitely wasn’t there before.

“‘Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks,” Elrond reads, following the words with a finger, “and the setting sun with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole.’”

Bilbo looks at Balin. “Durin’s Day?”

“It is the start of the Dwarves’ new year,” Gandalf says. “When the last moon of Autumn and the first sun of Winter appear in the sky together.”

“This is ill news.” Thorin looks up at Balin, his troubled expression etched in silver. “Summer is passing, Durin’s Day will soon be upon us.”

Balin holds up a pacifying hand. “We still have time.”

“Time? For what?” Bilbo asks.

“To find the entrance,” Balin says. “We have to be standing at exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened.”

I grimace as Elrond looks between Thorin and Balin. “So this is your purpose, to enter the mountain?”

“What of it?” Thorin growls.

“There are some who would not deem it wise.” He holds out the map. Thorin snatches it from him, tucking it safely away.

“What do you mean?” Gandalf asks.

“You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth.” Elrond gives Gandalf a long look before departing, leaving the four of us to stare at Gandalf in bewilderment.

The next day, after waking early to the gentle sounds of birdsong, trickling water and thirteen snoring Dwarves, Bilbo and I break away from the others to wander through Rivendell’s halls and gardens. Bilbo seems determined to absorb as much of the Hidden Valley as possible before we move on, and I’m content to accompany him because it means spending less time around Thorin. We don’t talk much, both content to walk in amiable silence and occasionally point something out—an interesting painting or a flower Bilbo has never encountered before. I don’t know much about flowers and even less about paintings, but it cheers me a little to listen to Bilbo talk about his garden and modest art collection at Bag End.

After returning from last night’s meeting under the pretence of a nighttime stroll, I overheard Thorin explaining our new time constraints to the others. He said very little beyond that, and spent the rest of the night in a moody silence, puffing away at a pipe. I expected him to declare we were to leave Rivendell immediately and continue on, but so far he has said nothing of the sort. It’s unclear how the Dwarves will spend their time here, but I’m willing to bet they’ll find a way to disrupt the peace.

Time passes oddly in the Last Homely House—days feel like weeks, and a few hours is no time at all. I lose track of how long we’ve been in the valley by the second or third day, when Bilbo and I take our exploration to the cluster of grand halls higher up the cliff that house Lord Elrond’s extensive collection of relics.

Upon entering the first building, something immediately catches my eye. Golden light—the light is always golden here, no matter the time of day—streams through an intricate window that resembles the roots of a tree and spills across a sword. The sharp edges glitter so bright I’m tempted to shield my eyes. Something about the way the light catches the blade doesn’t seem right. I step closer to the sword, and my breath catches.

The blade is splintered into six fragments, each a jagged shard of broken metal. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and doesn’t seem like it should be possible. My hand hovers above the shard still attached to the sword’s hilt, pulled by some invisible force that seems beyond my control.

A jolt shoots up my arm and I snatch my hand back. This broken blade has been touched by evil. The chill in my veins is one I have experienced too many times before in the presence of Daedric princes, and there’s no mistaking it. A cold lump settles in my stomach at the thought that the same evil could exist here.

I look around for Bilbo and find him examining a painting across the room. It depicts a soldier—human, from the looks of him—brandishing a glowing sword against a huge, faceless figure shrouded in darkness. The sword is broken, with just the hilt and a jagged portion of the blade remaining.

Shuddering, I turn away from the sword and the painting. Bilbo remains transfixed, staring at the painting.

“Bilbo?”

He doesn’t move, and I follow his gaze to a band of gold around the shadow figure’s forefinger. It’s such a small detail that I didn’t notice it. I touch his shoulder and he jumps as though he had forgotten I was there at all.

“Are you alright?” I ask. His eyes are wide and he’s blinking rapidly, as though breaking free of a nightmare.

“I—yes. Yes, fine.” He offers me a smile that’s almost convincing, and we continue on our way, following the hallway out onto a balcony bathed in the golden afternoon.

The whole valley spreads out below us, serene and perfect. Bilbo sighs happily as a light breeze ruffles my hair and sends up a fresh burst of perfume from the flowers. I lean my elbows on the railing and take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the sweet air.

Aside from the brief moment of unease just now, my mind has never been so still. I didn’t even think I was capable of being so completely at peace with myself and my surroundings—the magic that blankets this valley is powerful indeed. Even with the distant, looming threat of the Durin’s Day deadline and whatever awaits us inside the mountain, it’s difficult to feel anything but calm.

Perhaps that’s why Thorin has been unusually subdued of late, and it’s been days since I daydreamed about his demise.

In the midst of my contemplation, Lord Elrond steps out onto the balcony through the doorway behind us. His approach was so silent that it completely escaped my notice, or else I was too consumed by my own musings. For once, though, my initial instinct isn’t to reach for the Blade. Aside from its nightly cleaning, I haven’t even thought about it since we arrived.

Elrond stops on Bilbo’s other side, looking between us with his usual air of light curiosity. “Not with your companions?”

Bilbo looks up at me, then smiles ruefully at our host. “I shan’t be missed.”

“They’re probably glad to be rid of me.” The bitterness in my own voice makes me cringe. Bilbo sends me a pitying glance, and I clamp my back teeth together.

“The truth is that most of them don’t think I should even be on this journey,” Bilbo tells Elrond.

Doubly so for me. I don’t say the words, but somehow I sense the Elf-lord hears them anyway. I won’t be at all surprised if he can read minds. The urge to cower from him and his ancient, fathomless eyes seizes me by the shoulders, practically yelling in my face to hide.

Bilbo’s shoulder presses against to my arm as Elrond looks down at him. “Indeed? I’ve heard that Hobbits are very resilient.”

A chuckle, but Elrond’s expression is perfectly serious. “Really?”

Elrond nods. The sun catches in the silver band across his forehead, and the delicate engravings etched into its surface. “I have also heard they are fond of the comforts of home.”

“I’ve heard that it is unwise to seek the counsel of Elves, for they will answer both ‘yes’ and ’no’.”

A second after speaking, Bilbo’s body goes very still against my arm. Elrond says nothing for a long moment, and Bilbo trembles ever so slightly under his gaze. Then, the Elf-lord smiles.

“You are more than welcome to stay here, if that is your wish.” He lays a gentle hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. Bilbo manages to nod, and Elrond’s gaze finds mine. “You are unlike any Elf I have encountered in all my years. I sense the immense power in you. It is ancient, and beyond my understanding, but all magic can be used to accomplish great things.”

The dragon within me stirs, raising its head to regard the Elf. The air between us shifts as something akin to an understanding forms between two eternal beings. Elrond’s head tilts, as though he also felt it.

“Seek to understand yourself, and your path will become clear. Though your homeland lies far from Middle-earth, we are still kin. You have a place here, should you choose it.” A strange light enters his eyes. “Though I sense your heart lies elsewhere.”

I’ve forgotten how to breathe. My throat is so dry I can barely swallow. I feel as exposed as if I were standing atop the Throat of the World, my body and soul laid bare to the fierce wind.

Before I can drag up any kind of reply, Elrond walks away, leaving Bilbo and I to contemplate our futures.

Though we spend the rest of the day together, actively avoiding the Dwarves save for mealtimes, Bilbo and I exchange very few words. Around sunset, we stop to rest beside a still pond. Pink water lilies drift across the surface, and beneath them countless fish dart in and out of the shadows, iridescent scales flashing like tiny gemstones in the sun. I sit on a stone bench near the water’s edge to watch them. Bilbo wanders to a flowerbed along the border of the small garden and bends to examine the riot of coloured petals. The dreamy expression on his face hasn’t budged since Elrond extended the invitation for him to live in Rivendell.

It doesn’t take a genius to realise he’ll be happy staying here—certainly much happier than he could ever be in Thorin’s company. I almost wish he would accept the offer, even if that means continuing on without his steady companionship for the remainder of the journey to Erebor. At least here he’ll be safe, and he’ll feel like he belongs. I couldn’t wish for anything more for him.

As I watch the fish, Elrond’s words swirl around my head like a dog chasing its tail. What had he meant by saying my magic could accomplish great things? Aside from the inevitable encounter with the dragon waiting for us at the end of this journey, I plan never to use my magic again. That part of my life ended with Alduin. The only reason I agreed to go on this quest is the huge reward waiting in the vaults of Erebor.

It’s also the only reason Thorin Oakenshield still lives.

A shiver skitters across my shoulders. That moment of weakness in the Prancing Pony, when I decided not to end Thorin’s life as my contract demanded… Had Elrond somehow sensed all of that? Did he also notice the brewing regret and the thoughts of betrayal I’ve tried so hard to keep buried? If so, did he mean what he said as a warning?

I press my palms against my eyes, pushing out the brewing headache. The questions are never-ending, and the time I spend fretting over the answers is time wasted when I could be enjoying the evening’s peace.

Though no one has expressed the thought aloud, I could sense the restless energy amongst the Dwarves at dinner. They seem fully rested and ready to move on—perhaps as early as tomorrow. To spend these last few hours in Rivendell caught in my own turmoil would be a tremendous waste.

So I rise from the bench and cross over to Bilbo, crouching beside him on the springy grass. The perfume of the flowers is strong enough to make me dizzy, but I do my best to listen as Bilbo points out various clusters of plants with vibrant blue, orange and purple petals. When he’s finished, I straighten and offer him my elbow. It feels strange and silly, but my self-consciousness vanishes as Bilbo smiles and takes my arm.

We continue our walk well into the night. Golden sunlight fades and gives way to brilliant silver moonlight. The air turns pleasantly cool, and the birds hand over the evening chorus to cicadas and crickets.

Soft glowing lanterns light our path, and we meander along the walkways and up and down staircases that I have come to know by heart. We pass the balcony where the Dwarves are gathered, and the air fills with their discordant laughter. Though it clashes horribly with the serenity of the night, I can’t help but feel a certain fondness for their noise beneath the urge to cringe.

As we crest a staircase, Bilbo pauses to admire the moon. I lean against the wall beside him, tracing the convex outline with my eyes. The moon never fails to bring me peace—she is one of the few constants in my life, and has stuck by me through every ordeal. Part of me insists it’s silly to feel such a connection with something like the moon, but lonely nights spent camping out in the wilderness with unknown dangers lurking just out of sight are always made slightly more bearable by her comforting presence.

“Bryn always loved the moon.”

I sense Bilbo shift to look at me. “Bryn?” he asks.

“Someone I knew. A long time ago.” The words spill out of me from some deep recess inside me, and I can’t look at Bilbo as I say them. I keep my eyes on the moon, and breathe through the bittersweet ache in my chest. “We used to sit for hours and just watch her together. Being with him like that…it was like a rare moment of stillness when the rest of the world was in chaos.” I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the sweet night air. “Being here in Rivendell reminds me of that feeling.”

Bilbo doesn’t move closer or attempt to comfort me, but stands quietly beside me, his head tipped back as moonlight spills over us.

“Of course I was going to tell you. I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I think you can trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Bilbo shifts, turning to follow the direction of the familiar voice. A long stone bridge spans a large pond to the left of us, far enough away that the shadows obscure us from view. Gandalf and Elrond stride side by side across the bridge, deep in conversation.

“Do you?” Elrond’s tone is almost scolding. “That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail? If you wake that beast?”

“What if we succeed?” Gandalf asks. “If the Dwarves take back the mountain our defences in the east will be strengthened.”

Defences? Against what? I glance at Bilbo, and the shadowy figure from the painting flashes in my mind.

“It is a dangerous move, Gandalf.”

“It is also dangerous to do nothing! The throne of Erebor is Thorin’s birthright.”

During this exchange, another presence enters my awareness. The commanding aura it gives off is unmistakeable, and immediately sets my teeth on edge.

The culprit lurks behind us in the shadows, the moonlight catching the silver in his hair. Thorin doesn’t look at me or Bilbo, but keeps his gaze fixed on Gandalf and Elrond as they continue across the bridge.

“Have you forgotten?” Elrond turns to face Gandalf, lowering his voice. “A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?”

I peer at Thorin over my shoulder. Though nothing in his expression betrays his feelings, he raises his chin just a fraction, and cold fingers crawl across the back of my neck.

“Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone,” Elrond continues as they begin walking again, heading towards a set of spiralling stairs that will take them out of our eyeline. “It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle-earth.”

“With or without our help, these Dwarves will march on the mountain,” Gandalf says. “They’re determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he is answerable to anyone.”

Their voices fade into silence as they vanish around a corner. Thorin remains still for a heartbeat, then turns and marches down the steps without acknowledging my or Bilbo’s presence. Without a word, he draws us after him like ripples in the wake of a ship.

We arrive to find the others already packed. They move quietly around the space, rolling up blankets and rechecking their bags. Balin gestures for us to do the same, urging us to hurry without uttering a word.

“What about Gandalf?” Bilbo asks in a hushed whisper as he knots the strings on his pack. “Isn’t he coming with us?”

Thorin speaks from the doorway. “He will meet us in the mountains when his business is done.” He looks around at his company, now on their feet and awaiting his orders. His eyes find me for a brief moment, and Elrond’s words replay in my mind: A strain of madness runs deep in that family.

Thorin’s gaze flits away, but the chill in my blood remains.

@bluelinkmp ; @moloko-tyan ; @inumorph ; @psychomanias

#the hobbit fic #dragonborn au #tes:skyrim #crossover fic #to slay a dragon

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