#I am a bit out of practice with Frerin

[mithrilhearts]

I am but a humble little anon with a small request for you because I liked the prompt…👀

“…you actually expect me to believe that you’re still alive…because of a cat?”

Alright, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with this prompt as soon as it fell in my inbox. I went a little overboard...and did not stick to my "these are going to be less than 1k a piece!" but that's okay.

Have some words from the AU verse of "Where The Shadows Lie"

“Oh! She’s a nightmare!” Bilbo growled as he paced back and forth while practically tearing his hair out by the roots. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when she gets here. All because she wants to borrow a few place settings, which I know I’ll never get back, but no doubt she’ll criticize the way I’m running the place, and not to mention–”

“Bilbo,” Thorin abruptly interrupted from his perch on the check in desk while watching his significant other look as if he were about to go toe to toe with some regular monsters. The kind that lived under his bed, rather than in them like Thorin did. “Relax.”

“You don’t understand, Thorin. My cousin Lobelia could be the solution to all of your problems! Send her after this Azog fellow, let her tear him apart with her snotty attitude and–” a set of hands were suddenly at Bilbo’s cheeks, partially squishing them, but primarily caressing. Curse vampires and their speedy movements. If it was Thorin’s intent to get him to be quiet, this vampire was in for some bad news. “She’s a Sackville-Baggins!” Bilbo blubbered through his squished face as his brows furrowed.

“And you’re a Baggins, but also a Took. If I know anything about either, you’ll be just fine,” the vampire murmured close before releasing his hands from Bilbo’s face, landing them on his shoulders instead. “What can I do to help?” And as Bilbo opened his mouth, Thorin’s head instantly shook in disapproval. “I am not biting her.” To which the human’s face wilted like that of a child being denied their desires.

“Realistically? Can you take the others out for a little bit? Much as I adore your company…I don’t know how confident I feel in letting those like Frerin and Nori loose around Lobelia, right now.”

A thick brow arched high and Thorin’s head tilted. “Not embarrassed by us, are you?” Specifically, him.

“No! No, I just…don’t know what she knows, you know?”

“I know.” Sighing, Thorin stepped away and locked his arms across his chest, a tell-tale sign when irritation was starting to itch at the back of his brain. “I promise you, my company will be far from this place when your dear cousin pays a visit. Less stress for you, and…perhaps a bit of fun for them.”

“Thank you. The last thing I need is for Lobelia to start squawking rumors to every relative, near or far.” Regardless of the family tree obviously separating into two, it wasn’t as if the Sackville-Bagginses never spoke to the Tooks. This was to protect Thorin and his brood–alongside some of Bilbo’s sanity. Stepping closer and rising on his toes to press a kiss to his vampire’s lips, it truly felt like kissing a stone wall. “Don’t be like that. I promise, it’s nothing against you, she just worries me is all.”

“Alright, if you say so.” 

Nothing was going to move the irritable mountain that was Thorin Oakenshield, and Bilbo had to accept that. He’d win Thorin’s favor later if possible, but for now, it was time to prepare for some family visiting, as no doubt Lobelia would be bringing her husband and her son along with her. More eyes for scrutiny, and more witnesses to Bilbo’s embarrassment.

….

Thorin had kept to his word and ushered the company out of the bed and breakfast for who knows what. Perhaps he’d simply used the ‘leader’ voice he was known for having and shooed everyone off, but Bilbo was grateful regardless. Part of him was still worried that his fanged beau was annoyed or under the impression that they couldn’t behave, but it was something to focus on later. For now, Bilbo had been keeping himself busy with vacuuming, dusting, and just looking busy.

Until that knock came, and Lobelia strode in with her husband and son at her heels.

“Good evening, Cousin!” Lobelia practically snorted with her nose to the sky, making an observation already of how the lobby was looking. “It’s getting a little dusty in here, isn’t it? Have you been slacking?”

“I’m literally cleaning right–” Sighing, Bilbo gave up on that attempt before he’d ever finished the sentence. “You wanted some plates and silverware for your dinner party, yeah?”

“Why are we rushing things? I hardly get to see you, and we don’t live that far away. Let’s catch up. Go put on some tea, if you’d be so kind.”

Being bossed around in his own house had Bilbo practically vibrating with annoyance, but he forced a grin on his lips and nodded. “Of course. I have scones too.” Day old, but Lobelia didn’t need to know that. “Right this way–Hello, Otho! Lotho! It’s good to see you again.” While neither had much to say aside from faint hellos, Bilbo was actually disappointed. It meant Lobelia would be doing all the talking, but what else was new?

Leading the way through the lobby, the little sitting room to the side, and into the kitchen, Bilbo just babbled about what he’d been up to–which were all lies, of course. From having guests come and go, to taking up new hobbies such as crochet (to explain some of the yarn that had been left out by Ori in the sitting room), it was…something. That is, until Bilbo came to a dead stop to stare at his kitchen counter that housed a plate of day-old scones and a large black and grey cat draped on the ledge just waiting for him.

“No wonder it’s so dusty and dirty! What even is that large…beast…?” Lobelia scrunched her nose, reaching out a hand to halt Lotho from charging forward, who seemed more excited to see a big cat in Bilbo’s house than the scones. “Don’t touch that, it probably has rabies. You did get this thing it’s shots, didn’t you, Bilbo?”

Bilbo, who was red in the cheeks and without a word on his tongue, simply stared at the large cat who lounged with a tail flicking lazily. Those bright blue eyes staring back at him and looking more annoyed than anything. “I…he’s just a cat, Lobelia, he isn’t going to infect you.”

“I bet there’s hair all over the scones–”

A loud objection of a meow came from Thorin, raising his head and narrowing his eyes on the woman with tight curls and an absurdly colored dress on her frame.

“Don’t look at me,” Lobelia snorted, waving her hand dismissively. “Shoo, feline. Honestly, Bilbo, I know you’re lonely, but a cat of that size will maul you in your sleep.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bilbo muttered with a small grin pulling at the corners of his lips before clearing his throat. “He…saved me, really. His company is great, and I don’t know where I’d be without it.” Both Thorin’s and his actual company. To say they showed up at the right time in Bilbo’s life would be an understatement. Things had been looking dull and drab, and then some vampires fell through his door. “He gives me a reason to wake up in the morning.” A dark admission if ever there was one, but it was honest, and it gained Thorin’s attention.

“You actually expect me to believe that you’re still alive…because of a cat?”

 “Yes. Now we can move on from Acorn Majesty, don’t mind him, he won’t do anything to you, so long as you don’t do anything to him. So, I’d stop insulting him if I were you.”

“Oh, please. All I have to do is change the pitch of my tone, and he won’t know any differently.” Putting on a brave face, Lobelia strode forward, standing right next to the counter and reaching a hand out. Her lips curl into the sweetest grin as she began to scratch at the top of Thorin’s head and behind one ear. “You don’t know anything I’m saying, do you? A ridiculous thing, but that seems suitable for he who is your master–”

Thorin hissed and nipped at the hand close to him, his fur bristling and claws extending to be more threatening, which got the reaction he wanted. Lobelia stepped back, cradled her hand that had barely been grazed–no blood was drawn–and just looked bewildered. Another loud hiss escaped Thorin.

Bilbo tsked his lips, practically tutting Lobelia like one might do to an ill-behaved child. “I told you so. He’s very smart, and he hates yellow.” Which just so happened to be the color of Lobelia’s dress. “The dishes, then? Or did you still want some cat-hair-covered scones and tea?”

“I don’t think I want either! Not if this thing has been around them!”

“I let Acorn eat off of those plates all the time, he’s a very high maintenance cat, you know,” Bilbo snickered as he watched Thorin’s legs stretch and his paws extend as if reaching for him. Scrubbing a hand beneath Thorin’s chin and picking him up like the oversized baby he was being, all Bilbo could do was find some amusement in this turn of events. If all it took was a grumpy cat to ward Lobelia off, maybe he should have mentioned it before! Don’t mind the cat when you get here–it could have saved them a lot of trouble.

“Thank you for your…generosity, but I think I’ll pass on borrowing any of your stuff. Otho, Lotho, we’re leaving–”

“But mom, I want to pet the cat–” A firm hand landed on Lotho’s arm to pull him away.

“He’ll bite, we’re leaving. Next time Bilbo, we’ll catch up at my place. Just wait for an invitation…for you, only. No cats allowed.”

Bilbo highly doubted he’d be getting an invitation anytime soon, and that was alright with him as he grinned, waved, and felt a feline’s head nuzzle under his chin, purring loudly like a laugh as the door to the bed and breakfast opened and slammed closed.

“So much for your promise, Thorin,” Bilbo sighed, but he wasn’t mad, not in the slightest! Relinquishing his hold on that ridiculously large feline in his arms as Thorin wiggled about, Bilbo grabbed a scone and simply leaned back against the counter.

“I kept my promise,�� Thorin huffed as soon as he was back in his more human form, dusting off the front of his vest. “I said my company would be far from this place, I never said anything about myself.”

Pausing, Bilbo fixed his significant fanged annoyed with a look and shrugged. He’d give Thorin this one, but next time he’d learn to read between the lines, or ask for specifics.

“What was that about having a reason to wake up in the morning–”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“I want to know.”

“You want to know? Okay. Before you came around this place felt like a tomb–” holding up his hand and frowning, Bilbo was not in the mood for any vampire jokes at the moment either, not that Thorin was one to crack them often. “–my parents are gone, this place gets little to no traffic, and I start finding myself up to my eyeballs in debt just to keep this place running, and shit seemed hopeless no matter what I tried. I was ready to sell and move on, or worse, but then you guys showed up and gave me a near heart attack, but…things changed.”

Bilbo found himself with a purpose, and while the financial situation of his life hadn’t really turned around, what the company had paid did ward off the bank for a little bit. Then of course there was Thorin, someone who Bilbo’s heart had grown very attached to. Someone he wanted to help out of a mess, just as the vampire was unknowingly helping him out of his own. 

“Things aren’t as lonely, Thorin, and that saved me.” Bilbo’s eyes had dropped, his lips forming a distinct pout as he shifted uncomfortably under Thorin’s gaze. 

Just as before, a set of hands pressed to the sides of his face, but with far less squishing and desire to silence him. If anything, Bilbo noted just how gentle the touch was as a kiss pressed to his forehead.

“Just as you saved me, then,” Thorin murmured against Bilbo’s warmer skin. “Loneliness is the worst kind of enemy, even when surrounded by a great deal of people. But I make this promise, I will not abandon you to that, you hear me?” 

And as Bilbo lifted his head, catching sight of that soft expression Thorin wore, no longer feeling or looking like some variation of a brick wall, Bilbo couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath, latching onto the vampire and nestling under his chin, just as the feline version of Thorin had done to him moments before. “Nor will I abandon you. That’d be bad work of me as your bodyguard–”

“Bilbo,” Thorin warned, a loving type of exasperation in his voice.

“Thank you for sticking around. At least now I have a weapon against Lobelia, and I get to keep my mother’s best china.”

Snorting, Thorin stroked a hand against Bilbo’s back. “Happy to help ward off your enemies, and protect your mother’s dinnerware.” Another kiss was pressed to Bilbo, this time atop his head and into his curly mop of hair.

“My hero.” And in more ways than one, that was for sure.

[sorrowssinger]

The battle of Azanulbizar was dark and gruesome, it brought to mind every horror story that Frerin had ever heard about war and battle from everyone that dared speak of such. Still he fought, trying to protect his father in the press of bodies while still looking for his brother. There was a cry of horror that distracted him and he was knocked aside before he knew it and swept away with the harsh grasping hands pulling him down into the darkness of what should have been their home.

For a while he fought them, fighting to keep the spirits of those around him, those who had also been dragged down into the darkness, up and to give them hope. Gradually it faded and Frerin had to accept that those with him had given up hope. Still he looked for a way out of the darkness. He finally found it by chance when an elf of all things ended up down there with them. Giving the elf his best grin Frerin bowed to him.

"Frerin, son of Thrain, at yer service."

"Maglor, son of Feanor at yours... though I will say no one should be at my service."

"Say... that sword of yers, think it'd be of help getting out of here?"

"That depends, master dwarrow, are you going to be escaping?"

"I'd like to. My brother and sister both probably think I'm dead but with yer help I might get to see them again."

"Hmm, with such a cause I see no reason not to help. You may need to help me walk for part of our journey. I am afraid that our hosts were less than kind bringing me down here."

"Aye, I can do that. Now let's go before ye change yer mind."

The elf laughed and stood, most of his weight on one leg while he adjusted his sword. Frerin ducked under his arm and pointed in the right direction.

"We want to go that way, there are a few hidden doors that way and some of them even lead outside."

"I shall follow your directions, just warn me if we will need to fight."

Frerin was delighted because this elf seemed willing to acknowledge that he did not know or do something Frerin himself did. It was a wondrous change from what many other elves he had seen and heard did. Pleased by this change he took care to pick a relatively easy path that lead them around several groups of orcs and goblins while they traveled towards the surface and the doors that lead there.

It was too easy though and Frerin knew that. He could tell his companion knew that as well based on how the elf looked around warily. Just before they reached a room the elf stopped him and tried to walk to a half buried alcove. Frerin frowned at him but followed, Maglor had trusted him so far and he figured he ought to return the favor.

It was quite lucky he did because not more than a minute after he hid and settled voices and footsteps came around the corner. High shrieking voices of a goblin trying in vain to convince someone that he had been searching and Frerin was trying to focus on the words when something was draped over him. He shot the elf an annoyed look at seeing that some sort of fabric was draped over him but the elf just grinned and gestured later in Iglishmek. Frerin gave him a sharp look but calmed himself and waited for the goblin and whoever was with him to pass out of sight and hearing.

"Alright elf, what was that?"

"An elven cloak can grant, for a time, the ability to remain unnoticed among natural elements."

"Tha was not what I meant and ye know it. Now-"

"I learned it in the First Age. My brothers and I were, for a time, counted as friends by those of Belegost."

Frerin saw the sorrow in Maglor's eyes and let it go. He could hardly imagine losing one brother and from the sorrow he suspected that Maglor had lost many. Rolling to his feet he reached down to help Maglor up from the alcove then he resumed walking. They were nearly to the doors when Maglor stopped and turned, his sword leaving the sheath as he moved. Frerin cursed under his breath and looked around for something he could use to fight with. Spotting an axe he grinned and grabbed it.

"Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd ai-mênu!" Frerin cried as he leapt towards the first of the enemies that came upon them.

Maglor was silent as he slew those who came upon him and after a while of fighting there was a lull. Taking advantage of it Frerin hurried over to the elf and ducked under his arm once more.

"Come on, let's get out of here while we may."

"Agreed. Let us also pray that it is day not night for they will not follow us then."

Frerin grunted as he continued, half carrying Maglor as he went. Maglor reached forward and pressed his hand against the wall, after a moment he said something in elvish which caused the door to swing open. Seeing Frerin's look he chuckled.

"My nephew helped to create these doors. Now let us go, it is nearly day so we can leave and shut these behind us. Then I will try to see you to your brother."

"No. Yer hurt and ye helped me. Let me see you to somewhere safe first then we can go from there."

"You-"

"I said no."

Maglor sighed then laughed a bit.

"Very well. Imladris is not far from here. I go by Rainor there, but it is a safe haven for all who seek one."

"Then that's were we will go. Now will ye at least tell me what it's called in Westron?"

"Rivendell."

Frerin couldn't help but laugh. Thorin would be so upset when he heard that Frerin got out alive and then went straight to an elvish settlement. Seeing the grin on the elf's face he decided that he was going to make himself a nuisance enough that the elf would at least visit occasionally. It would be grand to see Thorin's face when he realized he would need to welcome an elf and show gratitude for saving him.

[middleearthpixie]

More Than Meets the Eye ~ Chapter Twelve

A/N: Home today with a bit of a sore back, so it is entirely possible there will be more than one chapter update today...

Summary: Belle enlists Dis’ help in trying to win over Thorin, while Thorin, after an initial bit of awkwardness, opens up to Arielle about how he hurt his shoulder.

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Arielle (Elen) Farran (female OC)

Characters: Arielle, Thorin, Dis, Belle,

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,757

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being

If you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here and on AO3

Dis frowned as she stared down at Belle. “What were you thinking?”

Belle didn’t even look the least bit ashamed as she shrugged and said, “Oh, don’t look at me that way, Dis. I was only hoping to… to hurry things along a little.”

“Hurry them along? You’ve been here only a few days, Belle. And I feel I should warn you, trying to force Thorin’s hand into anything will not end well for you.” She shook her head as they crossed the plains between Dale and Erebor. They’d spent the morning in Dale, wandering the amazing open-air market, when Belle finally confessed to Dis about her scheme to get Thorin to ask for her hand.

“I just… oh, it’s silly and I know it’s silly,” Belle replied, tucking a wayward curl behind her left ear. The breeze picked up to rattle the beads in her beard, making them clack softly. “But, he seems to be somewhere else whenever I’m with him.”

“Somewhere else where?”

“I don’t know and that’ s the frustrating part.” She looked over and Dis could see the genuine confusion in her friend’s eyes. She and Belle had known each other for several years now, and Dis had seen firsthand how dwarves practically fell at her feet for her attentions. It was easy to see how one could become spoiled that way, but Thorin was not a typical dwarf and that was something that escaped Belle.

“Belle, you have to take care where Thorin is concerned. He… he tends to keep everyone at arm’s length, no matter what. And for you to try to—to manipulate him that way? That is the worst approach to take because he will back away from you.”

“Is there someone else?” Belle stopped and faced her, catching that same wayward curl as the wind blew it across her eyes once more. “Does he fancy someone else?”

Dis laughed. “My brother? The brooding, grumpy, growly King Under the Mountain? I’d be surprised if he realized there were any available dwarrowdams within sight. He leaves skirt chasing to my sons, as they are quite skilled at it.”

Belle’s face fell and for a moment, Dis actually felt sorry for her. Belle was genuinely baffled as to why Thorin wasn’t falling at her feet, begging for her hand, and she did not know how to get him to do so.

Well, Dis could tell her it wouldn’t happen, but she didn’t think Belle would believe her. But, she couldn’t recall ever seeing Thorin beg for any woman’s hand, and he’d had enough of them seeking his attention, even before he became king. He and Frerin both had their pick of dwarrowdams, and yet both focused on their duties, on the battlefield, and marriage was the last thing on either one’s mind.

“Dis, I am serious. I just think he is so… beautiful…”

“Beautiful.” Dis made a gagging sound and shook her head. “Please remember he is my brother and there is nothing beautiful about that scruffy, grouchy walking ball of grump.”

“Oh, that isn’t fair at all and it certainly isn’t very nice.”

“You forget, I know him. You see his face, I know the man behind it and have for a very long time. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death, but I am not so certain I’d wish him on anyone.”

“I will be more than happy to take my chances.” Belle slipped her arm through Dis’. “Could you talk to him for me? Maybe just find out if someone else is wandering through his mind?”

“I can, of course, but I cannot promise you anything. Although, I’ve already spoken to him about the fair this evening.”

“Oh, the fair! That’s right!” Belle brightened and gave her arm a squeeze. “I know. As long as I know I am the only one he thinks of, I will be happy.”

****

Try as he might, Thorin couldn’t get Arielle out of his mind. He was up and dressed well before the sun, to avoid any early-morning awkward conversation and then spent most of the day deep within Erebor, sitting down with Balin and several of the others as they went over inventory and the like. It wasn’t easy, as he had a deuce of a time trying to focus on anything other than her and their kiss. Why had he kissed her? She’d been in his company, in his employ for five days. And for four of those days, he thought she was a young man. How did that change so quickly when she finally told him the truth? By all rights, he should’ve been furious with her, should’ve ordered her out of Erebor, and told her to tell her brother to not bother with coming in her stead.

And yet, instead of doing that, he kissed her.

He wanted to smack himself in the forehead for his idiocy. What had he been thinking?

Aside from the fact that he just simply wanted to kiss her, that is.

He wanted to kiss her as he’d never wanted to kiss another woman.

And it was one of the best kisses he’d ever had, truth be told. Her lips were soft. Her breath sweet. And instead of being angry with her for her deception, he rather understood why she and her brother had thought they could get away with this. They weren’t hurting anyone. Weren’t swindling or conning anyone. She was merely stepping up to protect her brother, to keep a roof over their heads and food on their table and he understood that.

But, what troubled him was that she’d performed those intimate tasks for him. Tasks that only a wife should perform (or a valet who wasn’t a woman in disguise.) He didn’t necessarily mind that he’d been naked before her, although, it was a little disturbing, since he wouldn’t have done so had he known she was a woman out of respect for her sensibilities more than his own sense of modesty.

So, had she grabbed his butt by accident then? Or had that been deliberate?

Accident. He remembered how she reacted to doing so. Definitely an accident.

He sighed as he made his way back toward his apartments. It was late afternoon and he had to change for supper. Dis had mentioned something about a fair in Dale that evening and wouldn’t it be nice if he escorted Miss Caisys to it for her to enjoy a few games of chance and some different foods?

He didn’t feel much like it, but Dis left him no room to back out of it, so, he’d be going to Dale that night.

With Miss Caisys.

When he’d rather be going with Arielle.

He scowled as he rounded the corner to the corridor leading to his apartments and his gaze landed on Arielle as she emerged from her own flat. She looked up and her cheeks went pink as she said, “You were gone by the time I arrived this morning.”

The words seemed glued in his throat, so he cleared it and said, “I had an early start.”

“Trouble sleeping last eve?”

“A bit. You?”

The color along her cheeks deepened and her curls bounced as she bobbed her head. “I did, too, yes.”

“About last eve,” he said, moving to unlock the door, “I should apologize. I should not have pounced on you that way.”

“Pounced on me?” A hint of laughter wove through her words. “If that is what you think pouncing is, have I news for you.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, turning the key. “I beg your pardon?”

The door swung open and he gestured for her to pass by him and go in. She smiled up at him, her blush receding now. “I mean, that is not exactly what pouncing is. If you’d pinned me to the wall—“

“I did pin you to the wall.”

“Oh,” her smile dimmed, “that’s right. You did. Very well, if you’d thrown me down on the bed and pinned me there, that would have been pouncing. And, either way, I do wish you wouldn’t apologize. It was a nice kiss.”

The tension thinned then and he relaxed some. “It was a nice kiss.” He paused as she went to the wardrobe to pull open one door, then he added, “In fact, it was one of the nicer ones I’ve ever had.”

She bent to peer into the wardrobe’s depths. “Have you had many?”

That took him aback. “Some. I don’t know I’d say many.”

“Well, more than… say… fifty?”

He grinned, shaking his head although she couldn’t see it from the wardrobe’s depths. “I haven’t counted, but I don’t think it’s anywhere near fifty.”

“Really?” She backed out of the wardrobe, a head blue tunic in her hands. “Well, whoever taught you, taught you well.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes,” she turned to set the tunic on the bed. “It was my first kiss, but I had no complaints.”

He just stared at her for a moment. Her first kiss? “You’re joking.”

She shook her head. “Why would I joke about that?”

“But…” He never would have thought that to be her first kiss. Not with the way she kissed him back, the way she teased him with her lips, her tongue, the way she let her hands move over him. There was no hesitation in her touch, no uncertainty.

And if he thought about it much longer, he would pounce on her right then and there, for it had been on his mind ever since he tugged her hand from his trousers. He wanted to unwrap her bandages, wanted to see her for himself, wanted to slip off her leggings and lift her against him and—

Mahal, allowing her to stay is a terrible idea.

But making her leave was a worse one.

She smiled as she tugged trousers from his wardrobe. “Are you actually speechless?”

“It would appear so, wouldn’t it? I’m just a bit surprised.”

“Why?” Her eyes narrowed. “Do I look like a woman of loose morals?”

He arched one brow. “You are my valet, and you are pretending to be a man, so…”

“One has nothing to do with the other and you know why I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want to lie about it, but let’s face it, you never would have let me stay if you knew I wasn’t actually Elen, and I really am sorry about grabbing your butt cheek the other morning, because I absolutely did not mean to and—”

“Arielle.”

“Oh.” She pressed her lips together briefly, then said, “I need to work on that.”

“Yes, you do. And you’re forgiven for grabbing my butt cheek.” He bit back a grin as she snorted. “What is so amusing?”

“You. Saying butt cheek.” She set out small clothes, then gestured to the door. “Call me when you’re decent.”

“Go.”

He waited until she left the room then shed his boots and stripped off his wrinkled, somewhat sweaty clothes (it was unbelievably hot in near the forges that afternoon) to give himself a quick wipe-down using the ewer of water and basin on the far side of the room. To his surprise, once that initial awkwardness between him and Arielle had been broken, he was quite comfortable with her around him. He didn’t think he would be, once he knew the truth, but he was wrong. And perhaps it would come back to bite him, but for now, he was glad he’d not let her go.

“Your Highness,” her voice floated through from the other room, “how are you faring?”

He stepped into the clean small clothes and trousers and was about to tell her he was fine, when he tried to draw on the tunic and the second his right hand rose about his shoulder, a fiery pain shot through it. He bit back an oath. “I think I need help.”

She came into the room, her brow furrowed. “I thought you were going to see Narnerra?”

He scowled. “I am.”

“In this lifetime?”

“Arielle.”

“I’ll not apologize for that, Your Highness. You need to see her before you bloody arm falls right off.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“When did this first happen? Your shoulder, I mean.” She gestured to the bite mark scar. “Did that cause it?”

He shook his head. “No. I think it happened when I faced off against Azog at Ravenhill.”

“If you’d rather not speak of it—”

“No, it’s fine, really. I thought I’d had him cornered up at Ravenhill. Kili, Fili, Dwalin, and I left the battle outside Erebor to hunt the Defiler down. I was tired of being hunted, it was his turn to be the prey.”

She moved closer and sank onto the edge of his bed. “You went after him?”

“I did.” A rueful laugh bubbled to his lips. “The height of arrogance on my part. Anyway, I had seen him run Fili through. I heard Kili scream, but couldn’t see him, so I assumed the worse. He slaughtered them up there, you know.”

Without thinking, he brought his left hand to his sore shoulder. A faint scar was already there, given to him in Moria, at the Battle of Azanulbizar, when he was much younger, inflicted by the Defiler as well. “My history with Azog was long and tangled and I was going to end it. Anyway, I brought my sword down, swung it about, and felt something pop. And it’s hurt ever since.”

“Go see Narnerra. I should hate to see you lose use of your arm.”

“As would I.” He sighed and held out the tunic. “If you would?”

“Of course.” She helped him tug it on, then added, “So, I heard the fair has returned to Dale.”

He peered at her. “You know of it?”

“I remember my mother’s stories about it. Apparently she brought me and Elen there when we were very small, but I don’t remember it. She said there was a wizard there who made the most excellent fireworks she’d ever seen, but Elen was afraid of them and cried the entire time.”

“Gandalf?”

Her eyes lit up and she nodded. “Yes, I think that was what she said his name was. Oh, I wish I could remember them because she made them sound amazing.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her to come with them. He hesitated for a moment, then gave in. “If you would like to come with us, you’re more than welcome to,”

She smiled. “Is everyone going?”

“I’m taking Dis and Miss Caisys, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the others found their way there as well.”

Her smile faded and her eyes dimmed. “Oh, then I probably should remain here. I wouldn’t want to arouse any suspicions.”

She stood. “If you no longer need me, then.”

“Arielle, wait—”

“What?”

“I’d like it if you came with us. The only time you’ve been away from here is yesterday and that only for a few hours.” He stood, sweeping up his discarded clothes to toss into the basket.

“Won’t the others wonder?”

“I doubt it.”

For a moment, she seemed to be considering it. But the, she shook her head. “I’m certain I am the last person Miss Caisys wants to see. Remember, I spoiled her plans last evening.”

He grinned. “I have not forgotten. But, are you certain? As I said, I’ll think of some explanation, even if it’s simply that I am the king and entitled to take my valet with me if I bloody well want to.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll go see if Kusela has any more mending for me to do. You are rather hard on your clothes sometimes.”

“If you’re certain.”

“I am. But thank you.” She moved to the doorway. “Enjoy your evening.”

The front door opened and closed and the silence that followed was deafening. He hadn’t wanted to go into Dale at all earlier, but now he really didn’t feel up to it. But, since he would hear about it from Dis come the morning, he sat to tug on his boots, then left as well.

He paused outside Arielle’s apartments, his hand hovering above the door handle. He could order her to go with them, if he so desired, but that didn’t sit well with him. So, with a soft sigh, he turned away and went above to find his sister and Miss Caisys.

[writingfromkitchenator]

Thranduil ~ My Heart

1,300 Followers Challenge!

Round 2

Masterlist

Requested by @ifitaketwomoresteps

Based on an imagine found here by @imaginexhobbit

Words: 2,018

Warnings: Female Reader, fluff, angst, secret relationship, family involvement

Thranduil still wasn't sure what it was, he still wasn't sure how this had happened, but he couldn't deny how he felt about you.  He still remembered when word reached him, of Thrain having taken another young dwarf under his wing, one that was to be treated as equally as his sons and daughter.

There were many rumours surrounding what had happened, but Thranduil had been stunned when he saw you.

You held yourself as tall and proud as any Durin, as if the blood actually did course through your veins. Standing next to Dis, you greeted him and other guests as if this was something that you'd been doing all your life. Thranduil couldn't put his finger on it, but he was enamoured from the moment he saw you.

All throughout his first meeting, his eyes hardly left you.  He knew he shouldn't have, he knew that it was drawing attention, but he couldn't bring himself to look away.

It was ridiculous of course, the idea of falling in love with a dwarf.  It was almost taboo.

But fall he did, and it seemed that you did too.

A letter reached him, and he couldn't help but stare at the words for a long time.

Meet me at the edge of Laketown, where the river flows under the moonlight.  Three days from now, I will be there.  If you do not come, I will still have my answer.

Thranduil spent hours agonising over his decision.  He knew what he wanted, but he also knew that this would affect his people, that this could possibly cause future problems.

But he had to know. He had to know what this truly was.

He stared at the meeting spot for a long time, watching you as you looked over the lake, bathed in moonlight, his heart in his throat.  You were a sight to behold, and for the first time, he did not doubt his decision to come.

You turned and softly smiled at him as you heard him approach.  “I was starting to fear the worst.”

Thranduil returns the smile and shakes his head.  “I could hardly give you an answer with silence, this is far more enlightening.”

“Oh?”  You chuckled.  “Does that mean I should still be in fear of how this will go?”

He shakes his head, stepping before you and holding your gaze.  “No, it does not.  I wish to be here Y/N, and I wish to be with you.  If you do not feel the same, then please, tell me now.”

“Thranduil,” His name sounded so strange yet so familiar on your lips.  “If I did not wish you here, if I did not wish to seek your company, I would not have asked.”

It was the start of something wonderful between the two of you.  Secretive, but wonderful.  Kisses were stolen in the brief meetings you dared to have, soft laughter shared in soft moments.  You both knew that it was against the customs of your people, but in the time that you got to spend with each other, nothing else mattered.

It was only a matter of time before it all went wrong.

You were both aware of the small rumours circulating, but you’d both chosen to ignore them, simply seeming surprised if it was ever raised to you.  You both thought that this was best method to keep having it go unnoticed for as long as possible.

But when word reached your grandfather, it was only a matter of time before it reached your father.

He was furious, ignoring your denial, and ordered for whatever was going on between you and Thranduil to stop.  Thrain refused to look at you as he said that such a thing was practically unheard of, and that it was a major dishonour for you and your family if was true, leaving you feeling very alone when he left.

Dis and Frerin were understanding, but you understood when Thorin had to take Thrain’s side, and with their help, you managed to set up a final meeting with Thranduil.

Thranduil had known as soon as he saw you that something had happened, and whatever was coming, was going to be nothing good.  He held you close as you told him, but refusing for tears to come, your pride barely holding you together.

“There is a way we can do this without having to stop seeing each other,” He said calmly, earning your worried but hopeful gaze.  “Although, I can’t imagine that it will go down too well, and it will take time for things to settle again.  Perhaps once that is the case, we can do this properly.”

You stared at him. “We both know that my father will not allow such a thing.”

He presses your lips lightly to yours, smiling softly.  “Then I will have to convince him.  For now though, one thing at a time.  We will make something public, showing just how ridiculous the rumours are.”

“Thranduil,” You sighed heavily.  “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Just trust me.”  He kissed your forehead.  “Play along.  It has to be convincing.”

For the last time in a long time, you just stood in silence, holding each other, thinking about what was to come, and if this plan would work.

Thranduil led the way as he said he would, meeting with Thrain and Thror in something unrelated, and it was only as the meeting began to conclude, that he raised the issue.

“There are certain rumours that I’ve heard,” He said lightly, his eyes flicking between the two dwarves, even as Thorin glanced at you from across the table.  “That I have been seeing a certain princess behind your backs.  I wish to state, with utmost respect, that these are not true.”

Thror nods, as if that was to be the end of it, but Thrain bristled, as Thranduil knew that he would, and pushed it further.  “I have more than a few reliable sources stating to the contrary.”

Thranduil raised an eyebrow.  “I am certain that you are not intending to call me a liar, however, you have my word that I have not been doing such a thing.  Not only would be uncustomary for both our peoples, but Y/N is not exactly my type.”

You shifted uncomfortably, knowing what his plan was, but it didn’t make the lies any easier to hear.

Thrain bristled further. “If you are trying to insult us Thranduil, then you are succeeding.  Both claiming that we are foolish to believe you and that you believe my daughter is not good enough for you.”

“I am simply stating the truth,” Thranduil said with a small shrug.  “I have not been seeing Princess Y/N behind your backs, and, not only do I prefer elvish women, but Y/N is not exactly up to my height standards.”

You bristled at this, folding your arms across the table and glaring at him.  “Don't call me short you arsehole.”

His gaze went to you and he did well to hide his amusement.  “My apologies princess, but surely you have been suffering at the cause of this rumour as well?”

“Yes, and they won’t take my word for it either,” You said, forcing yourself to look away and glare at Thrain, so you didn’t blow the whole thing.  “Which is just as insulting as you.”

Thrain’s face tinged with red and he huffed.  “If that is the case, then you are calling your brother a liar as well.”

Your gaze went to Thorin, who avoided your eyes.  This was not something that you’d been expecting, and now it meant that you had to tread extra carefully.  “Clearly whatever Thorin saw, he was mistaken.”

“I’m sure that there are a lot of dwarves that look like the princess,” Thranduil said lightly, although there was no missing the slight tension in his shoulders.  “And I have spoken to my fair share, including the princess herself.  Perhaps I should just avoid conversation in the future.”

Thrain’s eyes flashed.  “That’s the problem right there, Thranduil, you were not talking.”

A silence fell in the room even as you felt your face practically ignite.

“It’s not like I wanted to see anything,” Thorin grumbled low, avoiding looking up, his face turning a darker shade of red.  “But when it was insisted upon that I follow you, when the rumour first started going around.”

You stared at Thorin for a long moment before your glare landed on Thrain. “You had him spying on me?  Did you really think that that was most appropriate course of action?”

“I did what I had to do to protect my family.”  Thrain said firmly.  “Even if that means protecting you from yourself.”

“Then trust me with my own decisions,” You growled, fury bubbling away in your stomach.  “I don’t see you spying on the others and judging who they see.”

“Because I can clearly trust them!”  Thrain said, standing, his hands slamming on the table.  “I can trust them to keep this bloodline within these halls!”

You bit your tongue, hard, knowing that if you spoke, you would regret the words forever.  Instead, you got to your feet and stormed from the room, no matter how much Thrain called after you.

You locked yourself in your room and finally let the emotions, one you held so carefully onto you, go.  It all hurt, so much, and you wished that something, anything, in that moment would come and take you away so you could just forget it all.

It seemed like hours passed before there was a gentle knock on your door, and despite it all, you went and opened it.

Thorin stood there and you almost slammed the door in his face, but he caught it quickly.  “Y/N, wait, please.”

You glared at him and he sighed as he waited.

“I am sorry,” He said quietly, holding your gaze.  “It was not my intention for this to happen, and it was quite by accident that Father found out at all.  Perhaps going behind his back was not the best idea, but I can understand why you did so.”  Thorin quickly looked down either side of the hall, before slipping a folded note out from his pocket.

“I hope this helps, whatever happens,” He said, waiting for you to take it. “And should…the worse happen, then I will help where I can.”

You stared at him and slowly took the note, thumbing it open enough to see Thranduil’s writing, before looking back at him.  “Thank you Thorin.  I’m not sure I can forgive you yet, but I am glad that you are not just shutting me down.”

Thorin gives a small bow.  “I can understand that, my sister, and for what it is worth, Thranduil seems an honourable man, and you seem happy with him.  That is all I could ever wish for you.”

He bows again and leaves, leaving you staring after him for a long moment until you quietly close and lock your door again.

The note suddenly felt heavy in your hands and you stared at it for a long moment before you willed yourself to open it.

My heart, I am sorry for how today went, it was not and never was my intention to upset you.  For now, things are tenuous with your father and may take some time to recover, and I fear that we will not be able to see each other within that time, no matter how clever and careful we may be.  You must be patient.

Know that this is not the end, I will find a way out of this for us.  Should you ever have need of me, wait at the edge of Laketown, where the river flows under the moonlight.  I shall have those I trust watch there for you.

Until we see each other again, my heart.

Yours forever,

Thranduil

“What if I need you now?”  You asked to your room, leaning back against your door, a million questions racing through your mind.

This was not meant to be how this happened.

[deanogarbage]

find me in the drift (FiKi)

FiKi Week Day 4: Science Fiction or Fantasy.

Anyone who knows me knows that Pacific Rim has slowly consumed my life and I am trapped in the perpetual hellscape that is Newmann. So of course I’m going to pick sci-fi and finally write my Pacific Rim AU that I’ve told @safarikalamari that I’m going to write for over a year. I wrote this in one sitting again like a crazy person.

If you’ve never watched Pacific Rim, I tried to explain the best I could within the fic so watching the movie isn’t necessary but it sure would help. Plus I need more people to join in the sadness of Newmann.

Pairing: Fili/Kili Rating: T Words: 2k-ish Summary: Pacific Rim AU. K-Scientist Killian Durin is thrust into a new position when his uncle is injured and his brother needs his help. The drift reveals some things.

2025. Hong Kong Shatterdome.

Other worldly creatures, known as the Kaiju, have been terrorizing cities on the Earth’s Pacific Rim for nearly ten years. The human world has not sat idly by and let these monsters destroy the world. Jaegers, large human operated robots, have become the saving grace of the world. These Jaegers are each powered by two human pilots through a neurologically controlled processed called the Drift. The Drift allows the pilots to move in sync to operate the Jaeger, but not just any two people are able to drift. A compatibility process is necessary. Jaeger pilots often being siblings or lovers. While the Jaegers, their pilots, and the science around them are important, there are also scientists dedicated to understanding the Kaiju and how to help the Jaeger pilots find their weaknesses and eradicate them for good.

Dr. Killian “Call me, Kili” Durin was one of the leading K-scientists in the world. He held several doctorates in several fields of biology having gone to and taught at some of the most prestigious universities of the world.

While he was proud of his job and the research he had provided toward the Kaiju Wars, he was still the black sheep of the family overall.

Back when the Kaiju had first attacked ten years prior, his two uncles became the heroes of the First Kaiju War as the top Jaeger pilots. It was assumed that he and his brother would follow in their footsteps, but that didn’t seem to be his plan.

On the other hand, his brother Philip “Please don’t call me, Fili” Durin was perhaps the best Jaeger pilot to have ever existed, or so he thought. After their Uncle Frerin’s untimely death at the end of the First Kaiju War, Fili became his Uncle Thorin’s copilot.

The Second Kaiju War had unfortunately began, the giant Godzilla-esque monsters had been spotted outside of Sydney and all hands were back on deck after a decade of relative silence.

Kili was excitedly elbow deep inside part of a kaiju carcass when one of the floor assistants came in with a worried look.

“Dr. Durin, there has been an incident with Oaken Shield. It was severely attacked by one of the Category 3 kaiju. Your uncle and brother are being transported to med bay as we speak,” her voice is worried and a little frantic.

Kili hardly has time to clean himself off before he is running off to the medbay demanding to see his family.

Fili turns out to just have minor injuries that will heal up over a week or so of rest (Kili heard that as a day or two, knowing Fili). His uncle however was not as lucky. He was suffering from some major, but not life threatening injuries.

His piloting career was over at the worst possible time.

Kili knew that there would be knew kaiju coming any day, any moment, and they were officially one Jaeger team down.

Fili had healed up in a matter of days and was already back training. He had been a Marine recruit when the First Kaiju War started. He immediately was deferred to the PPDC’s Jaeger piloting bootcamp. He was never on the deployed teams, having struggled to connect with another pilot.

It was the cruel twist of fate that his career began at his uncle’s end. He finally made a drift compatible match with his uncle. They were able to take down some of the smaller Cat 1’s and the random kaiju sighting over the past decade.

This kaiju was the largest either of them had seen and it was their undoing. While their drift was compatible, it wasn’t the strongest. Now he again was copilot-less and would have to try to find some random pilot to try and bond with.

It was his first day back from the accident, he was healed up but his muscles and body were still sore from a combination of disuse and the injury itself. Many other pilots and crew members filled the on-base gym full of machines as well as a private sparring room.

Kili is working on a punching bag with another scientist when he sees his brother walk him. He excitedly launches himself in his brother’s direction, hugging him tight.

“Look at you! Good as new!” Kili grins patting his cheek teasingly.

Fili chuckles and peels him off gently.

“I need to spar, but I need to start easy. Think you can handle it?”

Kili scoffs in offense crossing his arms.

“May I remind you that I went through all the same martial arts classes as you when we were kids. Ask Hae-Won, I was tearing that bag up over there,” he scrunches his nose.

Fili grins clasping his shoulder and pushing him toward the sparring floor.

“Well then you have nothing to be scared of then!” He pulls his own curly blond hair into a bun and slips padded gloves onto his hands.

“Jiu jitsu rules?” He offers to his younger brother who shrugs with a smile and a nod.

“Sounds good to me.”

The two meet on the middle of the floor, one of the other pilots playing referee. Kili ignoring the whispers of mostly the other pilots.

“He’s a scientist, Philip is going to kick his ass.”

“Ah, he’s injured. I bet the kid gets a good hit or two in.”

“Injured or not, I wouldn’t want to be on the opposite side of Philip.”

They bump their padded knuckles against one another before the reffing pilot signals for them to begin.

Fili easily takes Kili down on the mat within the first few second, Kili nervous about hurting his already injured brother. The knock of air out of his lungs is enough to light the spark in him.

Kili is surprised himself when he is able to go toe to toe with his brother, each fighting and maneuvering easily around one another on the floor. When Kili finds an in and has Fili pinned to the ground and having to tap out, there is nothing but a bit grin and excitement.

Less than an hour later Kili finds himself in his uncle’s hospital room as Fili and Thorin are in the throes of an argument.

“It only makes sense Thorin! Who else better for me to drift with?”

“He isn’t like us Fili! This isn’t the life he signed up for!”

Kili clears his throat realizing he must be the topic of the argument.

“He can talk for himself, you know? Fili, you want me to...drift with you?” His voice is almost incredulous.

“You’re an amazing fighter, Kili. Sure, you need some training and some finessing, but I think you could make an amazing pilot.”

“But I’m a scientist.”

“Yes, but you can be more too! Please Kili, we can do a practice drift and if it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. But I can’t not let us try,” Fili begs with a renewed energy.

“I don’t like this,” Thorin says resolutely from his bed.

“You don’t have to like it, Kili just has to. You’ll give it a shot, won’t you Kee?”

Kili looks between the two of them before focusing on Fili.

“One time. I’ll give the practice drift one shot, if I don’t like it, I’m not doing it,” He says seriously to his brother, “I’m only considering doing it because I want to see a kaiju up close and personal.”

Fili rolls his eyes but is beyond excited at the idea of having a true drift partner.

They schedule the test drift in one of the Jaeger practice pods the next day. Fili unable to wait any longer.

Even though it is just a practice, the idea of drifting has always scared him a bit. He’s heard the pilots coached enough to know that you don’t hang onto anything in the drift, you just let it ride through.

The drift exposes each pilot to the memories, thoughts, feelings, and emotions of the other. There are no secrets in the drift. Both pilots share an intimate and genuine connection where their minds temporarily become one.

Kili swallows nervously as he steps out in the Jaeger operating outfit, his worried eyes finding Fili who offers a reassuring smile.

“These outfits are ridiculous,” Kili nervously laughs as some of the J-tech crew shows him how to get set up in the mock Jaeger unit.

Fili laughs a little in response, needing no help himself. “Yeah, they are. Hopefully, you’ll get used to it.”

Fili’s voice switches over mid-sentence to the comm link within the helmet.

“Okay Kili, just trust me. Follow my lead and don’t hold onto anything in the drift.”

“I feel like I should start a confessional for all the fucked up things you might see in the drift, so I’m apologizing now.”

Fili laughs again as he speaks in to the mic, pushing in buttons on the HUD of the Jaeger interface, “Activating neural handshake. In 3...2...1…”

Kili gasps as a wall of blue hits his vision and he feels like he may be sick from the spiraling feeling as memories and feeling flood him.

He sees first days of school, Fili fighting bullies, their first martial arts classes, their sleepovers they share as children, Thorin yelling at them.

“You are teenagers! This childhood dependency stops now.”

Fili being sent away for military school. Both sobbing at night, the intense heartache, emptiness.

They feel their first hug in Hong Kong, they hadn’t seen each other in years. A decade spent making up for lost time in their childhood.

Accidental drunken kisses. Fear, shame, they have to hide, if anyone were to know. Their lives would be over. He’d ruin Fili’s life. Fili he loves Fili but he can’t love Fili. Brothers, they are brothers and brothers aren’t like this why is he like this? Why can’t he be better? Fili don’t go-God, ithurtsithurtsmorethananythingwhycanttheyjustbetogetherwhydoesithurtsomuchmakeitstoptheblueisswallowinghimmakeitstopbrotherfilifilifilifilif-

“Kili, let it go! Kili you have to LET GO!”

He surges forward, gasping for air as he makes it onto the other side of the drift. Fili looks concerned at him from behind his helmet.

“Kee, you okay? You made it through. You’ve let it go, now let’s focus on the mission okay?” Fili orders in a reassuring tone as Kili nods catching his breath.

“Yeah, I’m good,” his breath evens out some before he pushes a smile on his face, “Let’s kick some virtual kaiju ass.”

Kili isn’t surprised when they take down the kaiju with relative ease, his mind feeling clear and strong with the guidance of Fili there. It’s reassuring and calming. Like he doesn’t have to think as hard with Fili doing half of the work as well.

Kili however is surprised when the J-tech crew excitedly clap them both on the back.

“You guys just beat the current record of beating Knifehead! With minimal damage at that! It was incredible!”

They both are helped out of the mock Jaeger, the drift ending. Kili searches Fili’s face when he hears a soft rushed voice in the back of his head.

So proud. I love him so much. Kili, I love you.

Fili takes off his helmet not saying anything at first.

“Well then.”

“Well then what?” Fili says softly looking at him.

“I’m going to really, really miss my lab,” Kili sighs holding the helmet under his arm.

Fili couldn’t possibly grin brighter hearing in his own head a soft, I love you too.

[joyfullynervouscreator]

Furs and Scars

Chapter 1

Dwalin looked at the sky, scowling at the snow-heavy clouds far above him.

“It’ll snow soon,” Víli said, from where he was crouched, checking that his snare was placed correctly. They still had another five to go, but the two rabbits already strapped to Dwalin’s pack would be a welcome addition to their winter stores. He rumbled something not particularly polite aimed at whoever controlled the weather, but Víli simply smiled.

Sometimes, it vexed Dwalin no end how Víli was always so positive… but then he remembered that they both lived in a household of Royal Durins and felt quietly grateful that Dís’s One was not another dramatic romantic prone to violent outbursts – like Dís herself – or spending hours upon hours brooding on things he couldn’t change – like Thorin. Thorin had been meant to come along today, but he’d begged off in favour of a council meeting so Dwalin had been volunteered to help Víli. By which he meant Dís had made puppy eyes at him while Thorin was looking and that was why Dwalin found himself wandering the slopes with Víli. Thorin – having no older siblings on whom to practice using puppy eyes – was almost incapable of denying Dís when she used hers. On the whole, Dwalin thought, it was a good thing that Dís rarely used her powers for more nefarious agendas, really. He didn’t mind walking in the cold, and he was reasonably fond of Víli – aside from the fact that he was sleeping with Dwalin’s little sister, but both he and Thorin had decided never to think about that fact… ever. Not just because Dís would have killed anyone trying to stop her marrying her One, but also because there was not enough alcohol in the whole of Middle-Earth to make the thought palatable to her protective older brothers. The wee pebble was adorable, though, Dwalin had to admit.

Víli, miner and occasional hunter, was decent company, if a bit fond of stating the obvious, but then again, not every Dwarf had the misfortune of being raised by Lord Fundin, with a brother like Balin, who had drilled it into his head to think first and speak later.

 The next two traps were empty too, and Dwalin could tell that they’d have been better off turning back instead of keeping on, but the thought of leaving possible food to the scavengers did not sit well with either of them. They were not so poor as when they had first settled in Ered Luin, but not so prosperous as to turn away fresh meat, so Víli and Dwalin trudged on in spite of the knowledge that the snow would almost certainly begin to fall before they reached the last snare.

“At least the cold’ll keep the meat from spoiling,” Víli remarked philosophically when they found a third rabbit trapped in his second-to-last snare. Dwalin nodded a grunt in his direction. He was beginning to dream of his warm seat by the fire, a cup of Frís’s special tea in his hand while he waited for the rabbit stew Dís would certainly prepare for two cold hunters, when the first snowflake landed on his nose.

 Within ten minutes, the world was covered in a swiftly growing layer of white, and only Víli’s keen knowledge of the area allowed them to reach the last snare. A fox had been caught in it, but Dwalin hardly cared, killing it with a quick blow of the axe and tying the carcass to his collection. The pelt would make a nice gift for Frís, who had needed new winter gloves for the past two years. Not much meat on a fox, to be sure, but the fur was nice and warm.

  “Think the lads’ll make it back for supper, or should we leave theirs on the stove to keep warm?” Frís asked, startling Dís who had been staring out the window where the first flakes of snow had started to fall.

“It looks like a blizzard to me, Amad,” she sighed. “Hopefully they’re almost here or at least in a place where they can find shelter.”

“Dwalin not back yet?” Thorin echoed his amad’s question as he walked in the door, trailing grey-haired Balin, who was calmly reading a long scroll – probably the result of the day’s meetings, Dís thought with a sigh. The settlement was not rich, though at least they didn’t starve every winter anymore, but the mines were failing and Thorin had been approached about the possibility of opening a new mine further away.

“Nay, son,” Frís replied, tickling baby Fíli until he gave her a gummy smile. Dís smiled to see it. Ruffling Fíli’s still-sparse hair with a work-roughened hand, Thorin pecked his sister’s cheek in greeting. “But supper is almost ready.”

The announcement was greeted with smiles, and Dís collected her pebble from Frís’s secure hold, knowing that they were minutes away from wailing hunger. With Fíli suckling for his own supper, Thorin and Balin got the table set, while Frís walked round the house ensuring that all the shutters where closed and a few reinforced with wads of fabric to keep the cold out. Dís settled herself in the most comfortable chair by the fire, accepting a cup of tea from Balin with a wordless smile of thanks.

  Trudging through the snow was one thing; Dwalin had had worse. The darkness was no problem either, being a Dwarf with terrific Darksight, but the sudden howls they heard in the distance had him gripping his axe tightly. Víli, too, looked worried. The strong winds threw off their sound perception, sometimes making the howling sound close, sometimes far off. Wolves would rarely attack Dwarrow so early in the winter, but they had heard gossip from further north of a pack with a taste for Dwarf-flesh. Dwalin hadn’t given the rumour much credence… until now.

Dwalin shivered. The howls had changed, he could tell. Víli had paled beneath his blonde beard; he too knew the sound of a pack out hunting.

“We won’t reach home before they’re on us,” Víli admitted quietly. Dwalin nodded grimly.

“We need somewhere to stand properly, where they can’t circle us,” he snapped, feeling a twinge of guilty satisfaction at the way Víli jumped. Even after twenty years of knowing each other, Dwalin’s ‘I am in command and you will listen’-voice still startled the miner, who tended to forget that Dwalin had been trained almost since birth to be a general. Of course, he also tended to forget that his brother-in-law was a King, and his wife a Princess, a rare gift in the settlement, and probably one of the reasons Dís had liked him in the beginning.

 Dwalin was impressed with the place Víli had led him. The hunter had found a small cave, the opening only just wide enough that a Dwarf of Dwalin’s bulk could squeeze through. In front, there was a wide, perfectly flat plateau, and the mountain was sheer walls on either side of the cave. In short, it was defensible, and they’d be able to spend the night if the wolves did not find them. It wasn’t the first time the cave had been used by travellers either, evidenced by the small stack of dry kindling and firewood left behind in a far corner.

  They stayed up long into the night, pretending that they weren’t waiting for their missing loved ones. When the candle had burned down to a small puddle of melted wax, Frís gave up her sewing and went to bed. Balin had retreated earlier, still reading some paper or other. Dís had not put Fíli in his crib, instead holding his tiny warm body close, finding comfort in his soft breathing. Neither sibling had uttered a word for hours. Thorin was staring broodily at the slowly dying fire, but making no move to put another log on. Dís sighed.

“We should get some sleep, nadad,” she whispered, knowing that she would have to be the one to send Thorin to bed. Otherwise he’d still be sitting there in the morning. “I’m sure they’ve just found somewhere to bed down for the night.” Thorin didn’t answer. With another sigh, Dís got up, squeezing his shoulder as she walked past him to the bedroom she and Víli shared. Putting the pebble in his crib and stroking his downy cheek with a soft smile, Dís left the door open as she returned to the living room, carrying the blanket off Thorin’s bed from his and Dwalin’s room. “At least you’ll be warm, if you willnae sleep,” she mumbled, pinching Thorin’s ear lightly as she spread the furs over his shoulders. Pressing a kiss to his dark locks, she turned to make for her own bed once more.

“Thank you, nunel,” Thorin whispered, but Dís did not hear him.

  Dwalin always felt better with his axes in hand. Grasper and Keeper. The names they had been given after Azanulbizar, and for a moment Dwalin thought he saw Frerin’s ghostly face before him. Shaking his head, he set his attention firmly on keeping watch. They’d drawn straws, and Víli had won the right to a few hours of sleep. The wolves had been silent for a while, and the snow was still falling, the wind howling around the mountainside. Dwalin did not let the lack of signs make him incautious. His eyes kept scanning the quadrants he had assigned to the surroundings.

 The attack was a swift as it was silent. Dwalin had no more warning than the yellow light of a pair of eyes before the first wolf – who was too big for a wolf, but not quite as big as a warg – attacked him. Keeper bit into its skull, and the wolf fell down dead. Dwalin’s shout managed to wake Víli – if he’d been asleep at all – who joined the fight with alacrity. Though less experienced than Dwalin, Víli was a quick Dwarf, and he made up for his slighter build and lack of brute strength with speed of movement. Another wolf fell, but Dwalin knew that the bloodlust had only just begun to surge in his opponents; these were no ordinary wolves, and the warg that came out of the darkness, black as night and as tall as Víli, proved it.

Dwalin’s world narrowed to the next swing of his weapon, the next slash, dodge, move. He killed swiftly and efficiently when he could, though one of the beasts managed to take a bite of his arm when he was too slow to dodge two at once. Víli’s sword skewered it in the next moment, but the bite was large, and Dwalin roared in pain, the agony only increasing his rage as he fought.

  When morning came, Thorin was asleep in the chair by the hearth, the fur blanket half on the floor. Frís shook her head fondly, putting it back around his shoulders, smoothing the line that sleep had not removed from his brow. As she set to preparing breakfast, putting a kettle of water on the fire for tea, she found herself casting a glance out the window every now and again, looking for Dwalin’s rugged figure and Víli’s nimbler gait coming towards her.

 Thorin woke when Frís screamed.

Dís was half-dressed as she hurtled out of her bedroom, and Balin was still in his nightshirt and fur-lined slippers.

“Amad?” Thorin asked groggily. “You are well?” Frís nodded silently, pointing out the window, one hand covering her mouth and her eyes wide in fright. Stepping up behind her, Dís gaped, before bursting into laughter.

“Well?” Thorin demanded, easily lifting her away from the window so he could see too. The sight made him suck in a quick gasp of the crisp morning air.

Towards them, a mountain of fur was moving, topped by a grinning warg’s head. The four legs beneath the pile made him abandon the thoughts whirling in his head and leap to throw the door open.

“We found some new friends,” Dwalin said blandly, dropping the three wolf pelts he had been carrying on his back with obvious relief. Beside him, Víli dropped another two and embraced Dís with a firm squeeze and a hearty kiss that made her giggle like a newlywed. Dwalin swayed slightly on his feet. Thorin cursed, seeing that his entire side was covered in blood. “S’just me arm, Thorin,” Dwalin slurred, pitching forward into Thorin’s strong arms. With Víli bracketing his other side, they got Dwalin manoeuvred into a chair.

“I’ll go fetch Óin,” Balin murmured, having returned to his bedroom to get properly dressed when he realised that Frís wasn’t being attacked in the kitchen.

  “Blood loss, yes,” Óin mumbled to himself, his young apprentice staring at the grisly wound with obvious awe. Dwalin snored. Thorin scowled. “It’s bled freely, at least, and no teeth stuck in him either,” for a moment, the healer looked slightly disappointed; he usually got to keep the things he removed from his patients. “I’ll clean it and stitch him up, but Dwalin’s a braw Dwarf, he’ll heal in no time.” Nodding to himself, Óin set to work, cleaning the wound with distilled alcohol. Dwalin roared, but Thorin had anticipated that he’d come up swinging and held his arms tight. Dís’s strong hand pressed the warrior back into the chair and Óin commenced with the sewing deftly.

“Brought fur for you,” Dwalin mumbled into Thorin’s hair. Óin’s stitching wasn’t terribly painful, but he had no need to watch the needle pierce his flesh. Thorin chuckled weakly.

“As long as you brought you back too,” he replied, scratching his fingers through Dwalin’s beard the way he liked. “You need a bath, amrâlimê.” Dwalin was – in a word – pungent.

“Already got water heating,” Frís promised from somewhere over Thorin’s shoulder, which made the warrior grin toothily at her.

“Someone keep an eye on him if you put him in a tub,” Óin advised, “he’s going to be a little loopy for a few hours at least.” Wrapping his neat handiwork in a clean bandage, Óin washed his hands calmly. “No using that arm till it’s healed properly, Cousin Dwalin,” he said sternly. Dwalin was not known for his patience when it came to waiting for an injury to heal before he could start working again, although he was surprisingly firm about not allowing injured Dwarrow to walk their rounds without their healer’s permission. “Feed him plenty of fluids, and keep the bite clean.” With final admonishments and a small pot of salve given, Óin left, accepting a fat rabbit as payment for his services.

 Wrangling a sleepy Dwalin into the bath tub was a two-person job, but Víli had gone to take the pelts to the tannery, so Dís had to step in, helping Thorin, who ended up standing in the bath as Dwalin sat at his feet. Dís had laughed at the image they presented, but she had left with a fond peck on Dwalin’s cheek, abandoning Thorin to the task of washing off the sweat and gore that clung to his hair and skin. The tunic had been consigned to the pile of fabric they used for patching, the bloodied parts cut off. Along with the rest of his clothes, it had been put into the big washing kettle, awaiting Víli’s return so his equally dirty clothing could get the same treatment. Dís had calmly set to skinning and cutting up the rabbits, while Frís was making dough for a piecrust.

 “Am no dead, nor dyin,” Dwalin grumbled. “Dinnae fash yersel, Thorin.” Thorin just shook his head, moving the soapy rag slowly across Dwalin’s skin, surreptitiously checking that he really was fine. Dwalin hadn’t been wrong, however; aside from the gruesome – flesh wasn’t meant to dangle, in Thorin’s opinion, and certainly not Dwalin’s flesh – bite on his arm, Dwalin had suffered only minor scrapes and a few bruises.

“You’ve the Maker’s own luck, you do,” he mumbled, but received no more than a sleepy murmur in return. “Víli too.”

“Couldnae let the wee lad grow up without his Adad, could I?” Dwalin retorted, one eye opening to stare balefully at Thorin, who nodded. It was a point, and well-made, but he rather wished they hadn’t had to fight a pack of wargs at all. The vicious beasts were not easy to kill, and Thorin felt guilty for having abandoned the hunting trip the day before. “Hey,” Dwalin said, softly, wrapping his large palm around Thorin’s temple braid and pulling him closer. “Nowt you coulda prevented, kurkaruk, an’ ye know it.” Thorin nodded, pressing a kiss against Dwalin’s shaved head.

“Let’s get you to bed, aye?” he murmured, reaching for the towel Dís had kindly laid out for them. Getting Dwalin out of the tub was almost as much hassle as getting him into it in the first place, but Thorin managed. Picking up the warrior – Dwalin was stronger, but Thorin was by no means a weakling himself – Thorin carried him into their bedroom, laying him down on the mattress.

“I made a spot of broth for you Dwalin. Drink it before you sleep,” Frís said, her voice laced with a Queen’s command when Dwalin looked mulishly at the mug she held. Thorin had to crack a smile. If it had been him offering, Dwalin would have refused, just to be contrary, but Frís could get him to do anything with that combination of Amad-and-Queen she had. “C’mon, son, there you go,” she said, gently stroking his hair while he obediently drank the mug down.

Retrieving their fur blanket from where he had dropped it, Thorin draped the warm furs around Dwalin’s sleeping body. The bandage had a slight spot of red seeping through it, but he’d let Dwalin sleep a little more before changing it, Thorin decided. With a final kiss to Dwalin’s brow, he returned to the kitchen, his growling belly reminding him that he had skipped breakfast.

chapter 2

 @life-is-righteous @pandepirateprincess