#Kíli/Reader

[jlbilu]

Chapters: 45/? Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Thorin/Reader, Fíli/Reader, Kíli/Reader, Dwalin/Reader, Bofur/Reader, Nori/Reader, Bilbo/Reader, Ori/Reader, Reader/Smaug Characters: Reader, Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli, Fíli, Dwalin, Bofur, Nori, Dori, Ori - Character, Balin, Óin, Glóin, Bifur, Bombur

Summary:

Random oneshots in which you the reader are paired with many dwarfs, and a hobbit on occasion. Some will be fluffy, others will be steamy. But a good time will be had by all!

*Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or you*

--------------------------

I particulary like chapter 23...

[fili-urzudel]

Jumbled - Kíli Durin x Reader

A proper, full-length fic featuring our favorite little brother! I'm not the most proud of this but it's finished and I think I should put it out there. No one requested this, but it's to tide you over until I put the finishing touches on the last few requests :)

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: a lot of being oblivious and dumb, but other than that we're good.

There were no words to describe Kíli Durin. That's what you were thinking as the top of your quill lightly brushed your bottom lip, gazing out the inn's drawing room window. This was the last town you would all stop in for a long while, and those of you with families had made the choice to write letters to your families back home as quickly as possible. You told them how you were doing, that you were tired but making progress and eating well, and keeping good company among thirteen dwarves and a hobbit.

You told them a bit about Bilbo and his odd little ways that you found quite endearing, if not annoying at times, and about Glóin, and his unabashed love and pride in his family. You told them about the golden-haired Prince Fíli, who was always a gentleman and had fast become your friend. You told them how Thorin was usually a big grump, but you had seen evidence from time to time, usually in relation to Bilbo, that it was all just a front. But the one dwarf you wanted to tell them about, you found yourself tongue—er, pen-tied over.

There were no right words to describe how you felt about Kíli Durin. Perfect wouldn't really do him justice, with his uneven bangs and his dazzling lopsided smile and stubbly beard that he cursed to the end of his days. Neither would ethereal, with the way his scent of pine sap and the feel of the callouses on his hands were so very grounded and real. Princely didn't fit his flippant attitude and his unceasing laugh and his never-ending jokes that had your lungs cramping at times.

Perhaps the real problem was that there wasn't enough paper.

You sent the letter off without writing exactly what you wanted about the soon-to-be prince of Erebor, save for his best wishes to any female member of your household. He didn't think you would write it down, but there was just enough room for a postscript. That would show him.

And before you knew it, you were on your way again. You readjusted your pack on your shoulders as Fíli dropped back to walk beside you. "I don't suppose you confessed your undying love in that letter by any chance?"

You blushed and nudged him with your elbow, too untrusting of your own balance to attempt kicking him. "Do you have to be so loud?"

"I can assure you it's all lost in the thunderous stomping, my friend," he smiled. "But that's probably for the best. Better for the object of your affections to know first, don't you think?"

"Stop trying to push it, Fíli," you groaned. "I already feel horrible for avoiding him for so long. I just... I can't be normal around him anymore, I—I don't know how to get the words out. This is all... so weird."

Fíli gave you a pointed glance. "If you're worried about him rejecting you, there's no way in all of Arda."

"Is that verified intelligence?"

"I'm his brother."

"Fair enough. I'll try."

"Tonight?"

"...Soon."

You didn't even have to approach the prince that evening, as he sought you out to have supper with. "Hello," you said with a nervous smile, scooting to make sure there was plenty of room for him on the log you had claimed. I hope he doesn't think I'm trying to get away from him.

"Hey," he returned a bright grin. "I just figured I'd better take my chance to spend some time with you while I can. We never seem to be near each other anymore."

"Hah, yeah," you answered awkwardly. "Sorry about that."

"Have you been avoiding me?" He asked, suddenly serious.

"What?" You asked with wide eyes, horrified. You looked to Fíli, sitting just a few yards away, and he gave you a look that said, just tell him.

"No—no, I wasn't trying to avoid you at all, it's just, you see, well—" gods you were a mess—you sighed. "I just realized, fairly recently, that I'm... in love, and it's made it hard to focus. I'm sorry if I was avoiding you."

That was a terrible confession by any standard.

Rather than looking relieved or hopeful, Kíli looked... pained. Almost angry, and Kíli was never angry. "Oh. I'm happy for you," he said flatly, before picking up his stew and heading elsewhere. He took a seat near Dwalin and Thorin, silently listening to their intense conversation.

You gave a desperate look to Fíli again, and he just shrugged. "I'll try to talk to him," he mouthed, and you nodded in gratitude.

You spent the rest of the evening in silence.

You loved Fíli. Of course, you loved Fíli, Kíli thought as he wandered the outskirts of camp, kicking a rock from one boot to another. Just one look at the two of them could have predicted that clearly enough. He was tall but broad, properly muscular for a dwarf. He had thick, curly hair and enough braids to make Thorin jealous. He had a full beard. He forged enough knives to supply an army and carried half of them on his person.

What did Kíli have compared to that? Bangs he had cut for himself on impulse so that people would have something else to look at instead of his pathetic excuse for a beard? A small game bow that was useless when anything came up close? A sword that he needed help to make?

There was no contest, really. Even if Fíli was engaged, what would that do to stop anyone from seeing his merits?

"You're sure he didn't say anything? Didn't make any significant noises or... grunts or anything?" You asked, on the verge of tears. It had been three days since your terrible confession, and Kíli hadn't so much as glanced your way.

"Nothing. He hasn't said anything to me since, either," Fíli said dejectedly.

There were only two explanations: he had horribly misunderstood you, or he knew you were in love with him and was so disgusted by the concept that he decided to avoid you entirely. As foolish as it was, you were inclined to believe the latter.

"What about what I said would make him hate me?" You murmured.

"Hey now, he may be giving you the cold shoulder, but he does not hate you. Kíli's not like that. You'd have to do something terrible, like... kill me, to get him to hate you," Fíli assured you.

That drew a short laugh from you, and you rubbed your nose on the back of your hand. "I hope you're right," you sighed. "I just wish he would at least look at me."

That night, like the previous two, you sat away from the fire, holding your soup close to your body to stay warm, despite Balin's many good-natured attempts to get you to join them. If Kíli didn't want to be near you, you wouldn't force him.

It was still light out when you decided to lay out your bedroll for the evening, the sun just starting to dip behind the trees. Apparently Thorin had decided you all needed the extra rest.

You glanced up at the sound of footsteps, and your eyes were met with boots. Kíli's boots. "Kíli!" You said, surprising yourself with how... shocked your voice was.

"Are you alright?" He asked, and though he sounded concerned, there was a hardness to his eyes. "People who are in love don't normally appear so sad."

"Well, they do when the object of their affections makes it so clear that they are not interested," you replied glumly. "You don't have to pretend—"

He made a frustrated sort of huff, and you looked up at him in confusion. He had never made a sound like that. "I am sorry for your heartbreak, but forgive me if it frustrates me as well. It is clear to all the world by his disposition, his words, and most importantly, his braids, that my brother is taken. He has promised himself in marriage to a dam he loves, and there is nothing my brother is if not loyal. And I can understand his appeal, but have I not also been a friend? Have I not also tried to be kind and—and charming and gentlemanly and make you laugh? I am not my brother but I would like to think I have my own merits so why are you lovesick over him when I am right here?"

You gazed at him with wide eyes, a smile breaking across your face. "You... think that I love your brother?"

Kíli's brow furrowed. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Fíli! Kíli has declared me hopelessly in love with you!" You shouted, and the golden prince unceremoniously spat out a spray of his soup, narrowly missing Nori.

By this time you were full-out laughing, and everyone in the company was staring at you, especially Thorin.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" Kíli asked, all the hardness having vanished from his eyes.

"Kíli, I may have been... fantastically terrible at saying this, and I'm sorry for that, but I was trying to say that I'm in love with you," you explained, taking his hands.

"You're... in love with me?" He breathed hopefully.

"I love you, Kíli, and if your recent outburst was any indication, I'm feeling very optimistic about my chances of you loving me as well," you confirmed.

"But—but I'm short and uncouth and—and I can't grow a proper beard—"

"You were just touting your many good qualities, and I agree with those more," you teased.

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"I love you too," he finally admitted. "May I kiss you?"

"You may."

[rynneer]

Misty Memories Cold

When you wake in Fíli’s bed with no recollection of anything after an accident in Mirkwood, he’s ready to risk anything, even his uncle’s wrath, to bring back what you had together.

Next >

Chapter One

Cold.

You’re cold. It’s dark. You’re falling. Someone reaches for you. Too late.

The water folds in around you. It floods your nose. It floods your ears. Your limbs don’t work. You can’t swim.

Muffled shouts. You open your mouth to cry back. It fills with water.

Choking.

Drowning.

Drowning.

Drowning drowning drowning dr–

You wake with a jolt, sitting up in bed.

Bed?

You pat the sheets around you. Yes, you’re definitely in a bed, not curled up on the leaf litter in Mirkwood.

“I guess it really was a dream,” you whisper, shoulders slumping. But as you run your fingers across the hem of the blanket, you frown. It doesn’t feel like the old quilt on your bed. It’s thicker, softer.

Something is wrong.

You look around the room as your eyes begin to adjust. There’s a fireplace across the room, the dying embers casting just enough light to let you make out the vague shapes of furniture in the darkness. The walls and floor are stone, adorned with plush rugs. The wind rattles the shutters outside the window, hidden behind thick curtains.

This is not your bedroom… and you are not alone. A dark figure stirs next to you beneath the covers. You scramble out of bed but find the floor farther away than expected. You land hard on your side. “Ow!”

You slap your hand over your mouth, but it’s too late. The figure sits up with a groan, rubbing at its face and leaning to peer over the edge of the bed at you. There’s no mistaking that mustache, those braids.

“Fíli? What… where are we?” And why are we in bed together?

Fíli blinks a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asks hoarsely, his voice rough. He rolls out of bed and kneels in front of you. “We’re home. In Erebor? You know, the mountain? Big pile of rocks and snow? It’s rather hard to miss.” He raises an eyebrow, trying to coax a smile from you.

Instead, you scoot backwards, putting space between you and the prince as you process his words. “But we were just in Mirkwood,” you protest. “How did we get here?”

Fíli’s confusion turns to concern. “Y/N, that was a year ago.” He shifts closer and brushes a thumb over your cheek. “Are you feeling alright?”

You stiffen against his touch, heart in your throat. Ever the gentleman, he’s never touched you without permission before. But something about the way his palm cups your face feels familiar. “I don’t know,” you whisper, shaking your head. “All I remember is falling into the stream.”

“You don’t remember the elves? Fighting for the mountain? All the time we spent together?” He uncovers a long braid in your hair. “Our wedding?”

“Wedding?!” It’s true, you’ve harbored feelings for Fíli since the two of you met in Bag End. You’d admired him in the book and movies, and to see him for real… it did something to you. But you never thought he would return your affections—how could he? You’re a plain, young woman from another world, and he’s a handsome prince, heir to the throne.

Fíli searches your face, expression unreadable. Finally, he stands, offering you his hand. “Come on.”

You take it hesitantly. His fingers lace through yours, and he helps you to your feet. Strangely, you find that instead of being taller than the dwarf, you’re just level with his chin. But before you can comment on this, Fíli pulls you out the door and down a narrow hallway.

He leads you to a large sitting room, taking you to the sofa next to yet another fireplace. “Wait here,” he orders softly. “I’ll fetch Thorin.”

“Thorin’s alive?” you breathe. “What about Kíli?”

“Kíli would like to know what the pair of you are doing up and chattering in the middle of the night,” replies a voice from behind you. The youngest Durin leans against the wall with his arms crossed, hair still tousled from sleep.

You tip back your head and close your eyes. “They did it,” you sigh in relief. “Oh, thank God, they did it.”

Kíli raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Fíli pinches the bridge of his nose. “Let me get Thorin first. I would rather not explain this twice.”

 

“Again.” Thorin paces in front of the fire.

You rub your forehead. “I told you, that’s it,” you groan. “I fell in the water and woke up here.”

Kíli shakes his head. “It makes no sense.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Thorin flashes you a warning look.

“It was no ordinary stream,” Fíli points out. He sits with you on the couch, his hand resting on top of yours. Every once in a while, he gives it a reassuring squeeze. “It had some sort of foul magic. She wouldn’t wake for days.”

“If it’s magic that we’re dealing with,” you glance at Thorin warily before continuing, “it might be a good idea to talk with the elves.”

“Absolutely not,” Thorin snaps. His lip curls in disgust. “I refuse to invite them to interfere in our private matters.”

Kíli’s eyes brighten. “What about Gandalf, then? Where would we find him?”

They all look to you. You close your eyes, teasing and tugging at the cobwebs that cloud the part of your mind where your Middle Earth knowledge is stored. “He’s… there’s no guarantee we even could find him. Gandalf doesn’t have a home, exactly. He wanders. They don’t call him the Grey Pilgrim for nothing.”

“So we don’t know where Gandalf is,” Fíli starts slowly, “but we do know where the elves are.”

“And Gandalf wasn’t in Mirkwood with us,” you add. “There’s no guarantee he even knows about the enchanted stream—but Thranduil definitely would.”

Thorin crosses his arms. “Out of the question.”

“Did you not make peace with Mirkwood?”

“Peace does not mean friendship,” Thorin retorts. His voice, raised in frustration, echoes off of the polished stone walls. Down another hallway, you hear a door slam. Thorin groans at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“And just what in Mahal’s name is everyone shouting about at this hour of night?”

A new dwarf steps into the firelight. In the dim light, she almost looks like a copy of Thorin. But as she approaches, you can see her features are softer, her eyes rounder, her beard thinner. And there’s no mistaking the Durin glare that she levels at Thorin, her blue eyes just as piercing as they are tired.

You glance at Fíli with uncertainty. He squeezes your hand and leans close to murmur in your ear. “It’s just Amad. Mother,” he translates when you don’t seem to understand.

Dís. You nod quickly.

Thorin looks at you, then back to his sister, standing with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised expectantly. As they exchange words in their rough native tongue, Dís’s expression of irritation turns to one of soft, motherly concern. She comes closer to you and gently brushes away a few strands of unruly hair from your face. “You must be tired, natha.”

“Daughter,” Fíli whispers.

“A bit,” you reply quietly, finding yourself suddenly shy with the full attention of a mother focused on you.

“Poor dove,” Dís tuts. She straightens up and pats you on the shoulder. “Fíli, take your lass back to bed. We will speak in the morning.” Thorin looks like he means to protest, but Dís silences him with an icy glare. Planting a kiss on the top of your head, she pushes Kíli and Thorin back down their opposite hallways. Fíli pats your hand and follows her quickly, his words in Khuzdûl fading as he gets further away.

Finally alone, you let out a long sigh. For the first time, you get the chance to look yourself over, to see what has changed. Your hair is longer, brushing the small of your back. When you run your fingers through it, you find braids styled to match Fíli’s. A dwarven marriage custom, perhaps? There’s a thin, gold band on your finger, too, lined with tiny sapphires that sparkle in the firelight. A little smile tugs at the corner of your mouth; at least you kept some piece of your own marriage customs.

And while Fíli has been bare-chested this whole time, you’re wearing a dark green shirt, no doubt one that used to be his. It’s long enough on you to serve as a nightgown. A blush rises on your face when you realize the deep v-neck exposes the dip between your breasts—and has been exposing it to everyone else this whole time.

“Amrâlimê?” Fíli’s voice from the hallway is soft. He pokes his head into the sitting room. “Aren’t you going to come to bed?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, suddenly very interested in the fireplace. In anything that isn’t Fíli’s too-kind face. “Do you want me to?” you ask hesitantly.

It’s silent for a few seconds. Fíli sighs heavily and comes to kneel before you, taking your hands in his. “Y/N, you are my wife. Of course I want you to come to bed. It is our bed.” His eyes search yours, desperately looking for the light he knows should be there. “Do I not have your love?”

“I mean, sure,” you reply softly. Your voice is strained. “I just… I don’t understand how I have yours. You’re the crown prince, you’re perfect. And I’m just… me.”

“You are so much more than that,” Fíli murmurs. “You are everything to me.” He kisses your forehead and stands. Before you can say anything, you’re swept up in his arms. Startled, you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to avoid falling, but he carries your smaller frame with ease.

You frown, remembering your observation from earlier. “Shouldn’t I be taller than you?”

“Ah. Well.” Fili’s chuckle makes his chest vibrate against your cheek. “That’s all that we thought the stream did. Make you properly sized.”

“Properly sized?” you repeat in disbelief. “You call this properly sized?”

“You complained about it endlessly,” Fíli continues. A playful smile tugs at his lips. “Until you realized how well you fit in my arms.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re very funny.”

“I’m also handsome, charming, brave…”

“Shut up.” You smack his shoulder lightly, but hide a smile as you tuck your head beneath his chin. Maybe you can get used to this.

But as he kicks open the door to his—your—room, and you see the bed with its rumpled covers, you tense.

“Y/N?” Fíli’s breath tickles your neck.

“It’s… just a lot, all at once,” you mumble.

He squeezes you, then lowers you gently to the bed. “I understand,” he murmurs.

“You really don’t, though.” Pent-up frustration simmers within you. “When’s the last time you fell into a stream, woke up, and found out a year had passed and you’re married?”

“Are you upset that we’re married?” Fíli asks, his face falling.

You feel a pang of guilt for snapping at him. This can’t be any easier for him. Running your hand through your tangled hair, you shake your head. “It feels like one moment, I was a girl with a crush, and then I wake up, and suddenly I’m a married woman. I’ve missed out on everything.”

“It’s in there, somewhere,” he whispers, stroking your cheek. You flinch away, your body unsure of how to react to his touch. Hurt flickers across his face, but he pulls back. “Can I fix your braids?” he asks. There’s desperation in his eyes.

Recognizing his need to touch you in whatever way he can, you nod slowly, and turn. The gentle, rhythmic tugging as he combs and re-braids your hair is hypnotic, and you find your eyelids drooping.

“There,” Fíli says, turning you back to him. He smiles sadly. “Beautiful as ever.”

Your heart aches. Whether it aches for him, the dwarf searching for his loving wife in the uncertain girl before him, or yourself, longing to be that loving wife, you do not know.

After a moment of hesitation, you lean in and reward him with a quick kiss on the cheek. His beard is prickly against your lips. “I’m tired,” you whisper when you draw back.

The kiss brings a real smile to his face, however small it may be. Fíli pulls back the covers and you wriggle underneath them. You settle into a dip worn down into the mattress from hundreds of nights before. Fíli slides into place behind you, his chest against your back. You stiffen slightly, but force yourself to relax.

“Is this alright?” His deep, quiet voice vibrates through your body.

You nod. He can have a little cuddle, as a treat. As an apology.

He takes that as a signal to test the limits further. You can tell he’s holding his breath as he drapes his arm over your waist. “Is this alright?”

“It’s cozy,” you mumble sleepily, letting the warmth of his body overwhelm you.

Fíli lets out his breath, pulling you tightly against him and nuzzling his face into your hair.

As you drift off, you do your best to pretend you don’t notice his quiet tears.

You began to stir, finding your face pressed into something warm and firm. As you tried to pull away to look around, you were met with resistance. You made a disgruntled noise.

“Y/N?!” Suddenly, a hand yanked your head backwards. Wide eyes searched your face frantically. You just barely registered who held you before he pulled you back in a crushing embrace. “I thought we’d lost you.”

“Fíli?” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his coat. “Can’t breathe.”

He released you, finally letting you get your bearings. The two of you were alone in a small, stone cell. Torchlight flickered just outside the wrought iron bars, casting a dim, orange light into your cell.

A shadow crossed over the door. “Oh, so she is alive. Here, then.” An apple landed on the ground in front of you, followed by a waterskin. “That’s the most you get until tomorrow. Make it last.” The shadow retreated, footsteps echoing down a long hallway.

Pieces began to slot into place in your mind. You nodded slowly. Mirkwood, elves, imprisonment. “How long have we been in here?”

“A few days at most, given how often they’ve brought food and water. But it’s hard to tell.” Fíli seemed distracted, eyes scanning your body. “How do you feel?”

You frowned and patted yourself up and down. “A bit sore, but I think I’m fine.” You untangled yourself from Fíli and tried to stand on shaky legs, your knees instantly failing beneath you.

Immediately, he jumped up and grabbed your waist from behind to steady you. “Y/N?” His voice was soft. “Y/N, please do not be alarmed when you turn around.”

“What?” You twisted in his grasp and looked up into his concerned face.

Up. You had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. He was big. You tried to back away but the space was so narrow, you collided with the wall after just a single step. “You’re taller,” you stated, almost robotically. “But you’re a dwarf. You can’t be taller than me. I’m supposed to be the taller one. How did you get taller?”

“I did not get taller,” he corrected you. “You got smaller.”

You just stared at him blankly. Fíli sighed, gently taking hold of your arm and easing you back to the ground. He took the apple from the floor and placed it in your hand. “Eat,” he ordered quietly. “You haven’t had any food in days. It was hard enough to get water into you.”

Instead, you rolled it between your palms absentmindedly. “How long was I out?”

“Just over a week. We were trying to cross a stream, and you fell in.”

“Instead of Bombur,” you interjected.

Fíli raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. Glóin managed to snag you,” he continues, “and when he pulled you out, you were… well, smaller. But you wouldn’t wake up. You even slept through the spiders. I was so afraid that you were gone before I could tell you–” he broke off, his voice thick. He tore his eyes away from yours, a blush rising on his face.

“What?” You reached out and took hold of his chin, turning his face back to you. Yet his eyes still avoided you. You crawled closer, kneeling between his outstretched legs. Your traitorous heart pounded hopefully against your ribs. “Tell me what, Fee?”

He shook his head. “No, no, it’s foolish. I shouldn’t… you wouldn’t…” Finally, he looked back up at you. “I love you?” He phrased it as a question, his blue eyes filled with hesitation. It was strangely endearing, seeing the normally confident prince so bashful. Fíli lifted a cautious hand to your cheek, fingers just barely brushing your skin.

Surprise temporarily robbed you of your voice. Mistaking your silence for rejection, Fíli quickly pulled his hand away. Shame and hurt flashed across his face. “Forgive me,” he blurted out, ducking his head. “I should not burden you with feelings you can never return.” He pulled his legs back in and moved further into the shadowy recesses of the cell.

But you crawled after him, refusing to let him go that easily. “Fíli, why didn’t you say anything?” When he remained silent, you wound your fingers up in one of his braids and tugged, forcing him to turn his head towards you. “Why are you so sure that I can’t feel the same?”

A cautious spark of hope flared to life in his eyes. “Because you’re perfect, you’re beautiful,” he murmured. “You deserve so much more than I can give.”

You smiled, eyes tracing his face. The gold locks that framed it, the sky blue eyes, the flushed cheeks. And those soft, pink lips, parted ever so slightly as he awaited your next words.

But words were the furthest thing from your mind. Refusing to hold back any longer, you grabbed Fíli by the collar, lunging forward to claim his mouth.

His eyes widened, then fluttered shut as his hands grabbed at your waist. Fíli pulled you back into his lap and wrapped his arms around you, reaching up to comb through your tangled hair with his fingers.

A rock clanged against the bars of your cell. “Get a room!” came Kíli’s voice, echoing down the hall.

You broke away with a laugh. “This is a room!”

Kíli’s only response was a disgusted groan as Fíli grabbed at your face for more.

[runesandramblings]

Dance With Me

Word Count: 2300

Pairings: Kili x reader

Warnings: None

Description: A company of thirteen dwarves interrupts a peaceful afternoon for the niece of Lord Elrond.

Requested by @dreaming-doodle 🩷 Took a few liberties but I hope you enjoy!

“Lady (Y/N), do you require anything more?”

You lounged back in the crystal tub as the warm water washed soothingly over your body. The flower petals and oils in the water mingled together beautifully, making the air smell sweet. A goblet of your favorite elven berry wine rested on the edge of the tub, and through the open window you could hear light strains of string music drifting in.

“No, thank you. That will be all.” You smiled kindly at the elf handmaiden as she bowed her head and disappeared from the room.

“I could get used to this.” You mumbled, slipping down further into the perfectly drawn bath and closing your eyes.

Your uncle, Elrond, was the Lord of Rivendell. It was typical for you to come on an extended vacation to visit him and your cousin, Arwen, during the spring months. You lived a simpler life with your family in another elven kingdom. The luxuries of Rivendell were never lost on you. Every time you came to visit, your uncle tried to persuade you to stay. Although it was tempting, given the exquisite treatment you were always given during your stay, you never did. You had family back home, and it didn’t feel right to leave permanently.

You lost track of the time as you lounged in the tub, sipping the wine and listening to the faint music you could hear coming from below. As you went to take another drink from your goblet, you jumped at the sound of clanging and crashing coming from the courtyard below your window. Your eyes flew open. What could that have possibly been? You paused for a moment, straining your ears to hear the source of the commotion. Just as you moved to lean back against the tub again, you heard another loud clash and clank.

“What is going on?” You muttered, annoyed that your peaceful bath had been disturbed. You stepped out of the tub and threw your silk robe around your body, not even bothering to dry off first. As you stormed out of your private bathroom and out into the hall, you were greeted by your uncle standing apologetically by your door.

“Uncle Elrond, what is that insufferable noise?” You asked, gesturing backward toward the balcony that ran from your bedroom to the bathroom. “It’s coming from the courtyard. Is everything alright?”

Your uncle looked unbothered, as he usually did.

“Everything is fine. We have some unexpected dinner guests.” He said simply.

You felt an eyebrow raise curiously.

“Dinner guests?” You questioned.

“Yes.” He continued. “A company of dwarves traveling through. Will you join us?”

**

An hour later you were dressed for dinner and heading down the stairs. Your bathrobe had been replaced by more appropriate dinner attire, a light green velvet dress that hung off of your shoulders and flowed out into a short train behind you. The handmaiden Elrond had left to attend you had styled your hair and placed a delicate silver headpiece, very similar to the one your uncle and cousin wore, atop your head.

As you rounded the corner into the dining space you could hear the ruckus of several voices speaking over one another. It drowned out the pleasant strains of the harp and flute players that often accompanied dinner. You’d never met any dwarves in person, but they certainly seemed like a rowdy bunch.

You felt all the eyes of the room turn to you as you entered. Without giving any of the guests a second glance you made your way to the table Elrond sat at, along with a shorter, bearded man you took to be the dwarves’ leader. And…

“Gandalf.” You said, smiling widely at the wizard. “Uncle Elrond didn’t tell me you were here!”

Gandalf stood, smiling in return as he took your hand and planted a delicate kiss on it.

“My dear, you look as lovely as ever. Elrond did not tell me you were here either.”

Your uncle and the dwarf both stood as well, and as you turned your attention to the much smaller man he nodded tightly, not bothering to reach out and take your hand.

“(Y/N), this is Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin, this is my niece.”

Thorin nodded once again as Elrond made your introduction, still not bothering to so much as shake your hand. Something told you that dwarves were not ones for pleasantries.

You nodded politely in return as Elrond gestured for one of the servants to bring an extra chair. You quickly lifted your hand as well, indicating that it would not be necessary.

“It’s no trouble, uncle. There is a free seat over there. I’ll make some new friends.”

You could feel several pairs of eyes following you as you moved to sit at the last remaining empty seat at the longer table. It was between two younger of the dwarves, one blonde with beaded braids woven into his hair and mustache, and the other a brunette with a strange hat and twisted pigtails. You smiled kindly at the two as you approached.

“Is this seat taken?”

Both stared at you momentarily before they each shook their heads, indicating that you were welcome to sit.

“I’m (Y/N).” You said, offering an introduction as you settled into your seat.

“Bofur.” Said the one on the right with the braided pigtails.

The one on the left offered a cheeky grin as he took your hand in his.

“Fili, my lady. It’s an honor to meet you.”

You looked across the table at the dwarf who sat before you. He appeared to be young as well, with long dark hair and stubble in place of a full beard. He was looking at you uncertainly, with a shy smile across his face.

“And you?”

“M-me?” He stuttered out.

You giggled.

“Your name, sir.”

“Oh. Uh, Kili.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kili.”

The table remained deathly quiet as everyone ate. You were well aware of the tensions that existed between elves and dwarves; mostly due to the distant Mirkwood elves, who were known to be quite unwelcoming. You hoped their experience in Rivendell might be a good one. Hopefully they’d leave with a better opinion of the elves.

“So…” You finally started “What brings you this way?”

The confidence of your question finally opened the floodgates from the others. They began speaking, mostly over the top of each other, as they clamored to tell you of their quest. As they spoke you caught a glimpse of Thorin over Kili’s shoulder, glaring at the table. You weren’t sure they were supposed to be telling you the full details of their journey, but they certainly didn’t shy away.

The youngest dwarf sitting across from you had particularly piqued your interest. As you spoke with the others he watched you, joining in the conversation occasionally, but mostly watching as you spoke. He had soft, gentle eyes and a kind smile.

Before you knew what was happening you saw Bofur jump up from his seat beside you. You’d partially overheard some of the dwarves complaining about the music.

“Alright lads, there’s only one thing for it.” He said, running around the table. He jumped up on top of a smaller table and began to sing, stomping his foot along to the music.

The others joined in immediately, clapping in time or banging the table along with the beat. You found yourself jumping in as well, clapping along and laughing as several of the dwarves began hurling food at Bofur’s head. You enjoyed their merriment, their carefree attitude. Many elves were high strung, often too concerned with proper etiquette and manners. The dwarves did not seem to care what anyone around them thought.

As Bofur launched into a second song a few members of the company began to stand up and dance. You beamed at the opportunity, as you also got to your feet. You grew up dancing in your homeland. It was one of your favorite things to do. Although the beat Bofur was stomping out was a little more fast paced than you were used to, you were sure you could keep up.

You saw Kili watching you shyly as you stood, and you felt a small flutter in your stomach at the young dwarf’s longing stare. You circled the table to stand beside him and extended your hand.

“Dance with me?”

He beamed in return as he took your outstretched hand in his.

“I’d be honored, my lady.”

As he stood you remembered the small height difference between elves and dwarves; the top of his head came to rest just at the tip of your chin. Neither of you seemed to mind, as Kili’s beaming smile never faltered. He tugged on your hand and led you away from the table, to a clear space on the floor where you would have room to move. He placed one hand on your waist as you rested yours on his shoulder, and with your free hands you held each other’s. Kili quickly walked you through the steps to a dance the dwarves seemed familiar with. You were a quick learner, and within moments you were expertly moving back and forth with Kiil, your footwork matching his exactly.

You danced together through many more of Bofur’s upbeat songs. The pure joy radiating from Kili’s smile made your knees feel weak, and you couldn’t help but wish to know the dwarf better. There was a pull you felt toward him, and you were saddened by the fact that he was to leave in the morning.

As the dishes began to clear away and Bofur stepped down from the table, Thorin came back around to stand in front of his company.

“Everybody, get some rest. We set off early tomorrow morning.”

You felt a pang of sadness as you realized the evening was over. Thorin seemed like a strict leader, and you were certain he would not allow Kili to remain in your company while the others went off to their rooms.

Or, would he…

You caught a glimpse of your uncle from over Kili’s shoulder. He had a knowing smile on his face, as if he’d noticed the budding friendship between you and the young dwarf you danced with. He gave you a subtle nod before turning to Thorin and catching his attention. As soon as he turned his back to the company, who had slowly begun to filter out of the room, you turned back to face Kili.

He gave you a wistful smile as he turned to walk away as well. Without thinking you tightened your grip on his hand, and he turned around to look at you curiously.

“How do you feel about a walk?” You asked quietly.

He grinned mischievously in response. He glanced over his shoulder, checking to make sure Thorin was not watching, before turning back to you.

“Lead the way, my lady.”

While Thorin’s back was still turned you quickly slipped Kili down the stairs and in the direction of one of Rivendell’s many gardens. It was your favorite, and always had been. This garden in particular held Elrond’s collection of rare plants and flowers, items he’d picked up from all over Middle Earth and replanted. Most did not have the skill to care for foreign plants, but the elves had their ways.

You led him down the paths of exotic blooms, showing him your favorites and explaining where each one had come from. You felt his eyes mostly on you as you spoke, and not the plants. As you walked together the conversation drifted from the garden to yourselves. He spoke of his family, it turned out the angry elder dwarf was his uncle, and his purpose in joining the quest. You told him of your home and your reasons for visiting your own uncle. You exchanged stories for what felt like an eternity and no time at all. It wasn’t until you realized it was too dark to see the flowers around you that you remembered the time. Kili had been gone for a while, and you were certain Thorin would not appreciate your kidnapping of his nephew.

“I should probably get back.” He said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Thorin has enough reason to distrust the elves without my disappearance adding to them.”

You nodded in agreement as you began to steer the two of you back in the direction of the rooms in which the dwarves were housed. Kili insisted on walking you to your chambers first, and as you neared your bedroom door you felt your steps begin to slow. You had only just met, but already you hated the thought of him leaving.

As you turned around to say goodnight you saw Kili holding a flower in his outstretched hand. A delicate, pink and white bloom with spiky petals. You recognized it as a favorite of yours from Elrond’s garden.

“For you, my lady.” He said as he placed it gently behind your ear.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to pick those.” You giggled, accepting the flower nonetheless. You reached up and tucked your hair around it to keep it in place.

He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a delicate kiss against your skin. His touch sent goosebumps across your arm, and despite having just met him you felt yourself longing for more.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Should our quest end successfully, I might be inclined to pay a visit.” He smiled and gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he stepped back, walking backward for several steps in order to keep his eyes on you a little longer.

You felt another flutter as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he slowly disappeared from sight.

“Please do.”

Maybe you’d stay in Rivendell a while after all.

[ironmandeficiency]

the hobbit + hozier songs

characters included: kíli, bilbo, dwalin, thorin, nori, bofur, ori, fíli, dori, tauriel

word count: 1166

a/n: the amazing and precious @wordbunch inspired me to write these bc of her lotr/th characters as taylor swift songs posts & i couldn't be more excited to finally post this labor of love!! thank you bestie for listening to me scream abt this for nearly two months lol

kíli: foreigner’s god

he loves outside of his race and this fact causes undue scorn to be thrown at his feet. it’s unheard of for almost any dwarf, let alone one from the line of durin, to do such a thing. this does not deter him - it empowers him; if his heart could go against the traditions forged into his bones, molten in his hot blood, how could it not be true? the strength of his love is what helps him ignore the doubts shouted by the prejudice plaguing those who know nothing of his heart. that, and the sound of your laughter at his antics, the soft smiles only given to him when he’s being a little too charming… he could go on.

bilbo: like real people do

as much flack as bilbo gets from the company for not being conventionally tough, he’s not weak by any means. he’s familiar with the pain of loss, and how the ways one tries to rise above the grief that follows aren’t always savory. he knows there’s a respect to be found in the absence of prying questions, choosing simply to coexist in the feelings and allow answers to come in their own sweet time. he’ll put some tea on to cook and scrounge up some leftovers from the previous meal, sitting beside you and letting the comfort flow naturally, his soft lips soothing the most tender aches.

dwalin: work song

just looking at him, you wouldn’t think dwalin a sap. but with his insanely strong sense of loyalty and stalwart dedication, he can’t be anything but. he’s faced down innumerable evils in his time, braved the fiercest of storms that many of his comrades didn’t; none of them even come close to keeping him from you. your arms welcome him home without question after each fight he braves, and your letters tucked into secret compartments in his armor keep him warm between embraces. he’ll read them by the fire every night when he’s away, every gentle word carrying his mind away from thoughts of the day’s turmoil.

thorin: sedated

this sweet, sad man doesn’t think he deserves good things in life. this, unfortunately, includes having someone love him despite his flaws and past mistakes. he couldn’t resist admitting his feelings for you and was ridiculously shocked that you reciprocated & allowed him to love you. on nights when he feels his failures deeper, he’ll try to convince you that he doesn’t deserve you. vitriol will escape from worried lips and terrified heart, piercing you in the way only a lover knows how. a soft kiss, gentle words, and a few strokes through his hair will soothe these wounds from him for a time and allow him some of the peace he’s fought to find, but doesn’t always believe is earned.

nori: it will come back

it was decades since the last time nori thought of love, even longer since he believed himself worthy of it. meeting you only solidified his disbelief; how could someone look at him and see someone that deserved such a pure thing, after everything he’s done in his life? he’s stolen, lied, cheated, and killed to survive (and sometimes not for mere survival). his attempts to spurn you away from him only increased your determination to break through the fortress he built around himself. he could only be strong against your advances for so long before he crumbled, reluctantly accepting the love and peace and safety you offered so freely.

bofur: nobody

bofur’s done a lot in his time. he was born in the blue mountains, a colony that never seemed to find the prosperity needed to do more than simply survive. he is a brother, uncle, cousin, friend, toymaker, miner, member of the great company that reclaimed erebor. but through all his adventures and hardships, he never lost his playful streak. he wants to have fun with who he loves, wants a little bit of mischief to make his laugh louder and brighter. bofur is a fun-loving soul who, despite his wandering past, will always choose you over anywhere that you’re not.

ori: francesca

ori’s life has never been a peaceful one. being raised by dori and being followed by the whispers of his late amad’s reputation (not to mention nori’s) without a mountain to call home, it weighed on his shoulders. even his craft, the pride of every dwarrow worth their beard, happened to be one seen as miniscule in importance compared to smithing. every moment spent with his one, doing anything or nothing at all, eases the burden he carries and makes every moment of strife worth it just to be with the soul made to mirror his.

fíli: i, carrion (icarian)

your love for him seems almost too good to be true, the remnants of stories told in dusty tomes written by those with far more eloquence than he can claim to possess. that being said, he is definitely not one to look a gift boar in the mouth. he relishes in each tender moment, every second spent in your presence that carries him far beyond the constraints life has placed upon him. but he recognizes that life isn’t always so simple, retreating into your arms and wishing that everything around you both just disappears. there’s always reality, waiting patiently outside of your chambers for one faulty misstep to throw you both askew. that’s why he dedicates himself to showing you that if life does what it does best and deals harsh blows, he will be there for you through it all.

dori: shrike

dori never had time for love; he had two brothers to protect, one more wily than the other was young. his focus was on getting his brothers through the days, putting food on their plates and the semi-frequently used stash of bail money well-stocked. he allowed his feelings for his one to fall to the wayside in the name of preservation. he ignored their call for decades and braved out the pain that came with such a silence. he begged for his one’s forgiveness every time they called for him. but once the mountain was reclaimed and his brothers safe, he yearned for what he could have had. he would approach his one with much regret and sorrow for the time lost, but a pure hope that they could find forgiveness in their heart for him.

tauriel: unknown/nth

to earn her love is a feat unlike that which the world has known for a long time. being seen as worth all these mortal struggles and painful toils in the eyes of an elf, let alone one as fierce as tauriel, is quite the achievement to anyone outside looking in. to the red-haired warrior in question, though, giving her love to you has the same unthinking ease as breathing; it’s beyond instinct to do and just as necessary to her survival. you’re worth every century spent alone, every moment after knowing you spent away from you.

[the-really-lonely-mountain]

Along for the ride, to Erebor - Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the second part for the second movie.

Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too graphic but i certianly wouldn't want to be caught reading it, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien), sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it, tags tbd tbh lol

Word Count: 4,758

A/N: OMG!! I graduated! I got a job! I finally edited this part! I'm so tired y'all, I'm writing this author note at like midnight lol. ~AnywhoOOo~ I hope you enjoy! let me know if you'd like to join the tag list to be directly notified of chapter updates! <3

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

You woke to the usual clanging of pots and pans as breakfast was being cooked. Kili’s hand was still on your waist and his arm was still your pillow, though you were sure it’d gone numb in the night. You gently placed your hand on his cheek and gently ran your thumb over his delicate cheek bone. He looked so handsome sleeping softly beside you, it made you smile like a giddy little girl. You regretted having to softly remove yourself from him, but you had to start packing your things and getting ready for the day, which was so much easier now that you didn’t have to worry about your hair. When you were finished and your bag was neatly packed, you tenderly woke Kili up.

He stretched then his eyes popped open, “Good morning!”, he sat up energized and ready to conquer the day.

“Good morning!” You replied with a kind smile, ever impressed by his liveliness in the mornings, “Start packing, Bombur’s almost finished breakfast.”

He shuffled about beside you while you worked on the final half of your bracelet, waiting for breakfast.

The porridge was the usual white sludge meant for nutrients, not flavor. You rinsed the dishes in the river with Kili’s animated storytelling as you usually did after meals. Thorin had the company moving out when you returned.

The day’s walk was very scenic, mostly idyllic forests with little rivers, where the lighting truly brought it all together. You walked between Kili and Fili so they could give you the basic run-down of sword handling and bowmanship.

By the end of midday, the company was on the border of the forest and a field. Thorin decided to make camp there and told Gloin to make the fire while Nori, Bifur, and Oin set traps in the forest to restock the reserves or something, you weren’t listening, too focused on Kili’s hand in yours as he led you somewhere.

The extra sparkle in his gorgeous brown eyes told you he was very excited to teach you about archery. As the resident Archer, no one (his brother) could compete for your attention by correcting him. He was also excited to watch you use his bow and his arrows; an honor bestowed upon an extremely select group.

Kili was very protective of his bows, not just because of the time it takes to make such an incredibly valuable weapon, but because one time in his youth he worked for weeks carving a brand-new bow from solid wood, making the string by hand, and engraving runic talismans into the handle. He worked very hard on that bow; Only to have one of his snot-nosed neighbors snatch it from him while they were playing and accidentally snap it in half after a misstep. Kili was furious, absolutely inconsolable. Fili had to drag him from the scene of the crime to the forest behind their family house, so he didn’t hunt the kid down and destroy him. He didn’t say anything to Fili, just cursed and milled about the clearing in frustration. At first, his brother didn’t know what he was doing, concerned he was setting a malicious trap for the offending child (such a spiteful trap was almost sprung after another incident of the same nature); but as Fili silently watched, out of arm’s punching reach of course, he realized his brother was just looking for a piece of wood to make a new bow. Fili built a fire to keep the chill of the setting sun at bay, not wanting to abandon his brother to the coming night. He watched the younger mumble curses in dwarfish as he whittled the wood seemingly in his own little world. Kili hadn’t really taken notice of the fire his brother built despite using its light and occasionally throwing more wood on absentmindedly while he stayed up all night to make the string and engrave the handle. Their mother, Dis, saw them through the window in the back door in the middle of the night. Fili was sitting on the ground, relaxed, leaning against a tree while he watched his brother on the other side of the blazing fire, Kili was sitting on a rock hunched over his bow as it came together. Dis knew from that moment Fili would always look after his little brother, or at the very least try his best. The craftsmanship of the bow he made that night was nowhere near his previous bow, but it could still shoot the straightest arrow in the village. It would do till he grew again and needed a bigger one.

Kili brought you a few yards away from the camp, out of ear shot but not out of sight. After the crash course in archery during the day’s walk, you were as prepared as you could be. Kili carved a target into the trunk of a tree with his dagger, not worried about losing misfired arrows in the underbrush because the fletching on the end of all his arrows were bright yellow.

He situated you both at a reasonable distance from the target and demonstrated again how to place your fingers on the string and what position to be in when you pull the string back. When he handed you the bow you were not expecting it to be as heavy as it was. Without an arrow, you tried to pull the string back like he showed but you couldn’t move it. You looked at Kili.

“Just pull it back Y/N.” He encouraged, with a proud little smile on his face.

“I am, Kee,” you said still straining to pull it. It wouldn’t budge. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what could be wrong—Ah! He got it!

“Here, let me help.” He came up and stood behind you. “The draw weight for my bow must be too high for you,” he said into your ear in a low hushed tone while he got into position. He shuffled his legs behind yours and placed his hand below yours on the handle and his fingers above and below your slimmer, softer ones on the string. They were much stronger and much thicker than yours. Two of your fingers were the same width as one of his, a thought that quickly had you blushing. The irresistible mental image of moaning out for him while being deliciously stretched around his capable digits as he cooed praises, was nearly too much. You thanked God he was behind you and therefore couldn’t see your bright red face.

He let you do most of the work pulling the bowstring to allow you to get a feel for the mechanics and amount of potential energy the movement created.

“And…” he made sure you were ready, “Release.”

You both let go of the string at the same time.

“Perfect! Now let’s try it with an arrow” He got one from the quiver on his back and handed it to you.

You nocked the arrow like he taught you then got into position. He helped you pull the string back like before, allowing you to control the aim.

“Ready…” You said to him this time, “Release!”

The arrow flew across the field and landed smack in the middle of the bullseye!

“No way,” Kili said in complete disbelief. You both went over to inspect the target. Sure enough, the arrow was deep in the carved circle of the tree.

“That’s amazing Y/N!” He turned to you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen. You were as happy as him, jumping up and down excitedly.

“I want to try again!” You walked over to your previous spot and lined yourself up, waiting for him to join you. He chuckled at your enthusiasm and grabbed another arrow on the way over. You repeated the process like a practiced dance, enjoying more than anything that he was your partner. He allowed you to aim again, but this time the arrow didn’t hit its mark or the tree at all; It planted itself firmly into the leaf-covered underbrush.

“Awe,” you pouted, “I rushed, next time I’ll take my time.” You grabbed another arrow from his quiver, accidentally getting your face in his. For a moment, you could feel the heat of his lips and his breath tumbling over onto your own in a near ragged pant.

When you backed away you both politely laughed it off, though you could have sworn he leaned closer to you in that brief moment.

You shot all the arrows he had in his quiver. A handful hit the target, and a few even got close to the bullseye, but none hit the center like the first. Being a good coach, he encouraged and teased when the time was right. ��

Once again in your own little world, it was like nothing mattered except him. His radiant smile, his contagious laughter, his excitability; it was all consuming. As the day wore on, your arms got tired, and you were ready for a break. You helped him collect the arrows in and around the tree, so he could show off for a bit like boys do for pretty girls. He did trick shots and action shots and even pinned the pinecone you threw for him to the tree. His skills were very impressive. Your return to the camp was met with impressed exclamations.

“Was that a bullseye on the first shot?!” Bofur asked, having seen the miracle even from the other side of the camp.

“Aye!” You said excitedly, proud of your accomplishment. You didn’t even realize that you were beginning to use their dialect.

“Good job lass!” Oin said, along with the others happily celebrating with you.

After all that working out, you were hungry for a snack. You rummaged through your bag in search of the grapes you had foraged with Bilbo the day before. They weren’t in your bag where you left them, carefully wrapped in your old T-shirt.

‘They couldn’t have fallen out’ you thought as you scanned the camp for the thief, already having an idea of the culprit. You stopped when your eyes fell on Kili across the camp, leaning against a tree with a shit-eating grin as he popped a grape into his mouth.

You were livid. It was a total invasion of your only private property: your bag, and you felt extremely violated.

You couldn’t say anything to the offending dwarf or even look at him in fear of your rage exploding onto him. The camp fell silent as you walked to Kili, your anger evident from your expression.

That feeling in Kili’s chest sunk to his boots when he saw how angry you were; he knew he’d gone too far. You snatched the grapes from his hand and walked (stomped) into the field beyond the camp.

“Y/N wait—” he tried to follow you into the field.

“NOT NOW KILI” you snapped at him over your shoulder in a tone he didn’t quite think you were capable of. He stopped in his tracks at your tone, the same one his mother used when she was very cross with him. The other members of the company who heard the commotion snickered at Kili’s self-inflicted misfortune.

You sat in the field, soaking up the sunshine and eating your grapes while you calmed down. Kili moped around camp like an abandoned puppy; it was quite a pitiful sight.

When you finished your snack, you took a few deep breaths to get the anger from your system and allow your thoughts to come together to properly explain to Kili why you were so mad. The youngest Durin hesitantly joined you in the field when he saw you were done with your grapes, his footfalls crunching the grass beneath him alerting you to his presence. He sat next to you clearly a little nervous by how he picked at the grass.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the ground. “It was just supposed to be a joke, honest,”

“Joke or not, Kili Durin, you shouldn’t have gone through my stuff!” You wanted to make sure he understood how unhappy his actions made you. He cringed at his full name. “You violated the only sliver of privacy I have out here!”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he said in a regretful voice you’d never heard from him before. “I shouldn’t have gone through your bag.”

You sighed and looked over at him. “I forgive you Kili,” You took another deep breath, satisfied he’d learned his lesson, “Just don’t do it again, ok?”

He smiled, happy to be back on good terms with you, “I won’t, I promise”. You smiled too, his infectious charm melting what little remained of your anger. You leaned in for a hug, knowing you both needed physical reassurance.

He sat with you in the field for a while, content to stay in comfortable silence. You’d been eyeing a beautiful patch of flowers a few feet away since you’d sat down. You shifted so you were laying on your stomach to get a closer look at their vibrant hues and decided you wanted to use them, but how? Kili moved next to you, mirroring our position, to see what you were looking at. Then inspiration struck.

“I’ll braid them into your hair!” You said excitedly. He gave you a look of surprised confusion.

“What?! No!” he was immediately against the idea and even backed away from you as if you’d jump on him any second like his brother might, “Why don’t I put them in your hair instead? They’d look much better on you.” He desperately tried to come up with a reason to avoid the inevitable onslaught of mocking he’d have to endure if he agreed to your plan.

You brought yourself to a kneel so you could look him dead in the eyes with a blank expression, “Pussy,” you simply said.

He scoffed and got all huffy and puffy, “I am not a pussy!” He said defensively, his cute accent got thicker when he was flustered, it made it so hard to take him seriously, “I just think the flowers would make you even more beautiful than you already are.”

You blushed deeply at his words and looked away from his charming little smile to keep your thoughts from your more baser mindset and to think over his offer. He started twirling the end of one of the braids he’d done the night before between his fingers. It was a sweet and absentminded motion, to which you relented with a sigh, “Alright, but you have to teach me how to use a sword after.”

“Deal!” He gave a hearty nod. You got your hair stuff from your bag and your bracelet to work on and hopefully finish while Kili did your hair. You picked the prettiest flowers and put them in the extra fabric of your shirt like a delicate basket. He dragged over a stone to sit on and got to work undoing the braids and brushing your hair out.

You didn’t realize how tight he’d made the braids till the tension was released from your scalp. You sighed in pleasured relief as he moved your hair around with the brush. That sound immediately pricked his ears.

“Does that feel good, princess?” He looked down at you and smiled as he massaged the sore parts of your head. You were too lost in the feeling his skilled hands were creating to hear his pet name.

Once he massaged the soreness away, he parted your hair and began braiding. Kili had a vision of what he wanted to do to your hair. He wanted a thick band like a crown around the top of your head and four small thin braids scattered across the rest of your loose unbraided hair.

You were on an entirely different plane of existence. You felt so calm and relaxed and taken care of with his undivided attention, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. His tranquil voice when he asked for a flower every now and then was the only thing you could hear.

When Kili was putting on the finishing touches, Fili came and joined you in the field to see what you both were doing, sadly breaking you from your lovely state of mind.

“Kili wouldn’t let me put flowers in his hair.” You pouted after the older brother inquired about your change in hairstyle.

“Even after he rummaged through your bag!” Fili feigned offense on your behalf with a smirk as he laid on his side in front of you both propped up on his elbow.

“Shut up, Fili” Kili huffed, ashamed of his previous actions, as he carded his fingers through your loose hair to make sure it was laying properly.

“Awe, Kiwi’s embawwassed,” you said in a baby-talk voice, making you and Fili laugh a little.

Kili stopped combing his fingers through your hair and tangled them in the loose hair at the back of your head. He pulled your head down to make you look up at him looming over you. He was about to say something, but the inadvertent dominating gesture caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips, stalling any thoughts he tried to voice.

You were both stuck in that trance for just a moment, yet it took an eternity to pass. He was unable to look away from your pleasure pinched eyebrows and slightly parted panting lips. You were captivated by his handsome blushing features and the fire in his eyes. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, to meet his lips in heated passion.

“Good gods you two,” Fili rolled his eyes. His sudden interruption snapped Kili back to reality so he could release your hair. “Get a room,” Fili finished his statement.

“Shut up, Fili,” you both said in unison with faces equally ablaze and eyes cast anywhere but at each other. The elder just looked at you two and laughed to himself, he knew at that moment you were both madly in love.

“Here’s your brush, Y/N.” Kili handed it to you, wanting to change the subject.

“Yes, thank you” You took it from him and hastily returned it to your bag then met Kili back in the field for sword training. His brother was still there passively observing (waiting till he had to step in to correct the younger as this was not Kili’s area of expertise).

Bilbo allowed you to borrow his sword so you could get an idea of what a properly fitted one felt like without your wrists being torn to shreds by the other much heavier swords of the company. Kili walked you through basic moves and positions to teach you how to make your weapon like an extension of your own body. When he tried to speed up the movements and have you come at him in mock battle, you faltered and messed up the arrangement of poses.

When this happened, Fili of course would step in with a simplified version to help you. Before long, you had an audience, and the watchful eyes and extensive fighting prowess of Thorin and Dwalin. Kili was no longer the teacher but the sentient-sparing mannequin. The sequence of positions and movements became longer the more you worked at it. It felt amazing to be capable of so much. You knew it was just choreography, but it made you better now than you were before.

You were beginning to sweat under your thick tunic. The physical exertion was getting to Kili as well. When you took a water break you removed your shirt, the coffee brown padded camisole you wore underneath being far more breathable, but much tighter than your usual outerwear. It left hardly anything to the imagination.

Your less-dressed return to the now-stamped-down grass of the makeshift training area was met with impressed exclamations, wolf whistles, and light applause. You blushed and pretended to be a fashion model at the end of a runway. They found it very amusing.

Kili came back after wondering what the commotion was about.

He saw you waiting for him, you hadn’t noticed him approaching yet, too busy putting on a silly little show. He loved seeing you like this, confident and carefree, not worrying about how you looked and focusing on something that was far more rewarding: having fun. He used the few seconds you were distracted to admire you. Your half up half down hair he’d just braided and styled, was blowing softly in the wind, and your short unruly baby hairs were matted to your sweaty forehead giving you a halo of sorts. Your camisole highlighted the alluring curve from your ribs to your hips like nothing Kili had seen before. The hem of the fabric was ridding up on your waist, revealing just a sliver of your lower tummy. Your pants kept where they were, hugging tight to your thighs and bottom.

‘Two can play that game’ Kili thought, not even trying to hide his mischievous smile. He took his shirt off and threw it in his bag.

You looked up and saw him coming to meet you. The long bangs that framed his face were clinging to it now from his perspiration. He was smirking, knowing he caught you slightly off guard. His prominent pectoral muscles bled into his strong thick arms. His waist tapered into his hips where his pants were beginning to ride low, revealing his defined adonis belt in its retreat. He exuded power as he walked towards you with his arms out a bit from his side, and his palms facing you, as if he were accepting your challenge.

“Ohho, it’s serious now, is it?” you said over a light chuckle, feigning being taken aback by his friendly challenge.

“Oh, it sure is.” He returned your light laugh and with a smug expression he tapped his sword against yours where it hung at your side. He knew he was flustering you. He could see it in the deepened flush that colored your cheeks and how your thumb picked at the leather-covered hilt of your sword.

You had to bite the inside of your lip rather hard to keep your eyes above his exposed shoulders. It had been so long since you’d felt so physically and mentally attracted to someone. The way he was looking at you made your panties dampen at the scandalous thoughts that his honeyed chocolate eyes made race through your head.

If Thorin hadn’t said, “Ready positions”, in that barking tone of his, you’d have jumped Kili’s bones and rode him off into the sunset.

You both got into the starting positions you preferred. Thorin shouted ‘Commence’ in Dwarfish. Kili came at you with harsh blows, which you perfectly countered like you’d been taught. You were able to quickly move yourself, so you were standing at his side. You took the opening and swung for his exposed ribs, but he easily blocked your attack. You pressed your blade against his to force him back and give up some ground. He stood steadfast in his heavy boots, however, and pushed back against you, getting his face close to yours to tease you.

“Good job, you remembered how to keep your grip on the sword.” He said with mock celebration. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your footing. He glanced at your lips where your teeth were worrying your lower lip; A habit he noticed when you were focused or nervous.

“I’ve been taught well, Archer.” You shot back, as suave as you could manage under the conditions. He threw you back so he could reset his stance.

“We’ll see about that, Ibinê,” he said, flustering you again with that mischievous grin as his native language easily rolled off his tongue.

You charged at him, and your blades collided with a loud metallic clang. Your sudden advance surprised him, he backed up a few steps. Cheers came from your audience.

“Ibinê?” You strained while your blades met again in a brute force pressing match. “What does that mean?”

Kili shoved you back and swiftly turned around, a trick he hadn’t yet revealed in your spar. He abandoned his blade somewhere off to the side and turned around again but crouched in his movement so he could swipe your legs from beneath you. You fell to the ground with a muted thud, your weapon knocked from your grasp. Kili scrambled to straddle your hips, pinning down your legs with his and your wrists above your head. You tried to fight against him, but his strength and weight are much greater than yours.

He panted above you, smiling like a cat who got the canary, “If only it were you straddling me,” he whispered under his breath and winked at you discreetly. Your chest was heaving, making your breasts ebb and flow with the rhythm. The erotic tension was palpable between you.

“We have a victor!” someone said from the sidelines to break your daze. Kili blushed and stood and helped you from the ground. Your audience clapped a little then dispersed to the camp a few feet away. You leisurely walked away from the encampment along the edge of the forest to catch your breath. The extra sway in your hips enticed Kili to follow you. He walked beside you, you looked up at him delighted he got the hint and followed you. He leaned in close to say in a voice that was deeper than normal, “Ibinê means my gem.” His words took a moment to register, causing a delayed blush to color your chest and neck.

He bit his lip as a thought played behind his eyes. Growing bold from the adrenaline still in his veins, he wrapped his hand around yours, he picked up speed till he was running. He took you far from the others. The sun was setting, painting the sky in those vivid colors only seen at dusk and dawn.

Kili slowed to a stop and used his grip on your hand to bring you in front of him. He took a step into your personal space.

“Labathmizi means I adore you.” He gingerly placed his hand on your cheek like he was handling the thinnest, most precious glass in the world. You were blushing profusely, your gaze danced from his eyes to his lips. “Abnâmulzi means you are beautiful.” He pecked his lips against yours for a moment then backed you against a tree and pinned you against it with his strong hand on your hip. His voice was low and rough with arousal, “Azralizi du-nâmrul, Ibinê, means I want to fuck you, my gem.” He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that surpassed any expectation you had. His lips were soft against yours; his hand tenderly held your cheek. You lifted your leg over his hip, his hand moved to from your hip to your thigh, and it felt like it was searing into the cloth covered skin. It slid up to your ass cheek and urged you to grind against him. You whimpered as his hardening member pressed against your soaking core. Kili met your movements, making himself hiss at the delicious friction you were both craving.

When you broke the kiss for air as lust flooded your mind and loins, “That’s really hot” was all you could manage.

You were becoming addicted to his kiss. The way his thumb would glide against your cheek and the soft, barely there little whimpers he was making as you deepened the kiss were driving you mad with need.

Your hand was on his bare shoulder and the other tangled in his hair scratching and pulling lightly on the soft brown tresses. His tongue won its fight against yours when he gyrated his hips perfectly to grind into you, causing a moan to bubble from you.

He broke away, panting. He looked at you, suddenly silent with his eyebrows pinched in a sudden focused confusion. This immediately concerned you.

You opened your mouth to ask if he was ok, but he put his finger to his lips to silence you. He closed his eyes to focus on something; dwarfs and their connection to the environment around them still confused you.

His eyes shot open in a panic, and he tore himself away from you so he could pick you up bridal style.

You clung to him as he broke out in a dash back to camp, “A pack of orc’s are coming.”  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist <3: @letmelickyoureyeballs, @nessarosefiction, @akari-rioan

[mikathemonster]

service dom kíli versus brat tamer fíli. that’s it. that’s the tweet.

[soft-girl-musings]

An Unexpected Proposition (pt. 2)

based on this prompt from @imaginexhobbit, previously submitted under @jawn-i-made-coffee

cross-posted to ao3

part 1

Kíli x fem!Reader

tags: mentions of blood/injury, Reader is described as tall (by human standards), Y/N is used

wc: 1,741

fic summary: An injured dwarf appears on your doorstep. Do you grant him sanctuary on this stormy night?

A/N: once again posting the cuties for myself. i have a loose outline from years ago i revisited and honestly? still slaps. so this might get a part 3.

You can't believe it. You’re actually doing it. You walk along the road leading away from town with your pack on your back, boots on your feet-

"Come on, (Y/N)!" Kíli shouts from the top of the hill. You smile. A friend by your side.

Only a few hours earlier you had broken bread and prepared to say goodbye; now, you’re following Kíli after he promised you an adventure. Was this a foolhardy endeavor? Perhaps. But after years in the quiet countryside, your roving heart had gotten restless. Kíli had tempted you with the open road and the thrill of a quest; how could you refuse him? 

As you climb the muddy slope, Kíli taps his foot in mock impatience. "You would think that with those long legs of yours, you'd move faster."

You reach the top and shove him lightly. "Shut up. I'm digesting." He laughs, shoving you right back. You notice he slows his pace to walk beside you this time. "So how much farther are you taking me, sir dwarf?"

"Ah, ah! (Y/N), if we're to be on the road together, we must do away with these formalities." He pulls a grimace and looks up at you. "'Sir Dwarf' makes me sound like some old fool."

You chuckle. Never a dull moment with this one. "Very well, Kíli, " you begin, drawing out his name in playful reverence, “how much farther until we get there?”

Ears tinged pink, he looks away, adding the figures in his head. "Where we're going is... three days on foot. We'd cut our time in half if I hadn't lost my pony." His brow furrows as he remembers his violent run-in with a few drunk locals.

You frown. "You're too weak to make that journey on a deadline." Kíli opens his mouth to object, but you shake your head. "There's a stable not three miles from here. I know the owner, he should take pity on our situation and help us." Kíli's face remains tense, but he nods in agreement and follows you.

Three miles later, you approach the stables and see your friend, just having finished mucking out the stalls. He raises a hand to greet you, but retracts the gesture when he sees who walks beside you.

“'Afternoon, Dylten!” You holler, but he turns and carts the waste to the back of the structure. Strange, he’s never this distracted. You place your bags down and chase after him. “Wait here,” you reassure Kili, “I’ll be right back!”

You find his cart abandoned as he walks hastily away from the stable. “Dylten!” you run to catch up to him. “At least a nod of greeting would suffice. Why the rush, friend?”

“I’m not sure I wish to be called ‘friend,’ if that’s the kind of company you keep,” he grumbles. His face turns red as he walks faster, and you notice a few fresh bruises along his jaw.

You piece two and two together as you reach the crest of the hill, where you see a chestnut brown pony tied haphazardly to a post in front of his home.

"New acquisition?" You ask flatly, knowing full well where the pony came from.

"Of sorts." He moves to walk inside, but you block his doorway, hand on the hilt of your weapon.

"You nearly killed him," you snarl.

"It wasn't just me! Nobody wanted him there!" He backs away, nearly tripping over his front step. "Some of us merely took it upon ourselves to send the dwarf a message!"

You're seething with anger at this point, sword drawn. You brandish the weapon toward him. "Yeah? And what was it-- that you and half the people in this town are beyond dense?"

He’s nervous, but scoffs all the same. “Don’t pretend to be all ‘high and mighty,’ (Y/N). I fought beside you. You knocked heads and drew blood just as easily as the rest of us.”

You’ve heard enough. In an instant, Dylan is knocked down by the pommel of your weapon and you crouch over him, knee to his chest. “Not innocent blood. Which doesn’t help you at the moment.” His breath staggers under your weight, struggling even more as you lean closer. “We’re taking the pony. And your black mare. If you’re lucky, my payment will include us never speaking of this again.”

__________

The next day and a half pass with ease. You notice you’ve reached the western countryside. Lush grass rolls in billowing green waves, speckled with countless wildflowers. Kíli plucks a few and sticks them in your hair while you’re busy preparing lunch; you sneak a few into his braid before he mounts for the final leg of the journey.

"Look!" You shout gleefully. As twilight creeps in, you are met with a most welcome sight. Little homes built into the sides of hills are scattered along the horizon. The grass rises and frames a beaten path before you.

Kíli rides up beside you, grinning wildly. "I think we've finally reached The Shire."

Exhausted from your journey, the two of you go to a cozy-looking tavern for a couple of drinks. You feel like a giant as you sip from a glass half the size of what you’re used to. The door jingles, opening to reveal a blond dwarf looking around warily before stepping inside. You nudge Kíli and point out the newcomer. He leaps from his seat almost immediately. 

"Fíli!" He calls out. The blond turns and, upon seeing Kíli, moves to embrace him.

"Glad to see you arrived safely, brother." They clap each other on the back and return to the table. Upon closer inspection, the family resemblance is much more prominent. Fíli is clearly the oldest of the two, having a harder maturity about him.

Fíli sits across from you, his smile slightly faltering as he looks you up and down. "And who's this?"

 "(Y/N)," you blurt out, offering your hand. "I've been traveling with your brother." Fili shakes it, looking to Kíli for an explanation. 

"She's done so much more than that, Fí. Why-"

"Tell me on the way. We're due at the burglar's house any minute now." 

As you travel to your next destination, Kíli speaks of your "grand rescue". Fíli listens readily, but later murmurs concerns of how "Uncle might not approve" of your presence at the halfling's home. 

The rest of the company, however, simply adores you. After Kíli tells them the tale of how you had saved him and secured transport (you had eventually told him about your run-in with Dylten), the other ten dwarves show an apparent respect for you.

"That'd explain why yer face looks like you fell head-first into a rosebush!" a dwarf called Bofur shouts across the table. You laugh as Kíli's ears turned red.

A heavy knock on the door silences the household.

"He's here."

"Gandalf," you hear someone say in greeting. You find yourself growing nervous as he walks in. Thorin seems to tower over the rest of the company. The graying hair and beard framing his face give his features an aged ferocity. You recall facing foes four times as large, but they suddenly seem dwarfed in comparison to this… well, dwarf.

You take a sip of tea and whisper, "Kíli, what if your brother was right? What if your uncle doesn't want me here at all?" Sensing the panic in your voice, he takes your hand in his and hushes you. "Fí doesn't know what he's talking about. Uncle needs every man he can get, and you're just as good as any of these old fools claim to be." He squeezes your hand andofferes a small smile. "He'll love you, I swear."

Unfortunately, Kíli could not have been more wrong. Thorin's face had been cheerful enough as he greeted his friends, but when his eyes fall on you, the subtle joy vanishes. After taking you in, he frowns. "I had believed this to be a private meeting, Gandalf."

"I had no part in her being here," the wizard insists.

"I brought her, Uncle." All eyes fall on Kíli as he stands. "I didn't think you'd mind. This is-"

"-A human who should not be aware as to why we are gathered."

"But Uncle, she's more than worthy to join us!"

"I decide who is worthy!" The red in Thorin's face deepens with every syllable. Your hand tightens around Kíli's. "Tell me, were you yammering about this quest on your whole journey, or was it just to the pretty ones you wished to impress?"

"With all due respect, sir-- your nephew is not at fault. I came on my own accord."

Thorin turns his glower to you. "Silence, girl. I'll deal with you later." 

"Enough, Uncle!" Kíli shouts He leaps forward, dragging you along until you both stand toe to toe with Thorin. You feel drastically out of place, awkwardly towering over the dwarf who looks about ready to take your head off.

"(Y/N) has done nothing to deserve your blind wrath! If anything, she deserves your utmost respect! She has seen battle in lands I'd never heard of. She served ten years of her life fighting alongside fierce men who were beyond her in years, and matched them blow for blow! And she saved my life. I wouldn't be standing here before you if it wasn’t for her."  He entwines your fingers and looks up at you. You notice he still has flowers in his hair. "She... she nursed me back to health. She fought for my property and restored my dignity, all in a day. And because I asked her, she abandoned her life of comfort to accompany me." He looks back at Thorin, determined. "I owe her my life."

"Let her stay, Uncle. They mean well," Fíli interjects  from his corner of the room.

Thorin's eyes never leave Kíli's. "I had known you to be reckless, but I did not take you for a fool."

"Nor I you." His uncle smirks, but does not let the humor reach his eyes. "Please."

A tense moment of silence passes between you. Thorin moves closer, now standing directly beneath you. "You have no room for error. One wrong move and I will not hesitate to make you pay." 

You kneel before him, hardly believing what you heard. "From this moment on, you are my King; I will serve you as such. You have my loyalty and my sword at your disposal."

[swanimagines]

THE MIDDLE EARTH (LOTR + THE HOBBIT) AO3 SERIESES

EVERYTHING FOR THE MIDDLE EARTH

LORD OF THE RINGS

Aragorn (coming)

Gandalf the Grey

Samwise Gamgee

Frodo Baggins

Pippin Took

Legolas Greenleaf

Thranduil

Éomer Éadig

THE HOBBIT

Bilbo Baggins

Thorin Oakenshield

Fíli

Kíli

Tauriel

Legolas Greenleaf

Thranduil

(Any of the other characters don't have any requests written nor pending as for now, so I'm unable to have serieses for them as AO3 requires you to have at least one oneshot written to be able to add it to a series, and I can't promise serieses for characters who don't have requests pending/I have no ideas of my own for them)

For anyone who's concerned, THESE ARE NOT ONESHOT COLLECTIONS, they are made using AO3's "series" feature.

If you want to be informed about new fics for LOTR/The Hobbit or its individual characters, create an AO3 account and subscribe or bookmark any of those serieses listed above. There are buttons at the top right corner for those, or on top on mobile. I do not do Tumblr taglists anymore.

Also, if you're wondering, requests are ALWAYS open and you're welcome to leave one or multiple. Just remember to read my rules and pick a request type from this list.

[cosmic-glow]

Notes: Alone during Halloween night (Sumhain), you notice two eyes watching you in the darkness of the lake.

Warnings: Kíli x fem!reader; Triton!Kíli; Reader has hair; Reader at the bottom of the sea; SFW.

The lights of the small house still shone behind you as you walked away, you could still hear the excited conversations coming from inside. It was Samhain night, your favorite night of the year, and you had just argued with your parents, to the point where you were so stressed that you chose to get up from the table and leave the house, slamming the door behind you. Hot tears clouded your vision but you refused to let them fall.

As you always did, you went to the large lake near your house. Something about dipping your feet in the cold water and playing with the smooth rocks you found on the shore while watching the light reflecting off the water calmed you. Distracted and a little calmer, but still upset, you picked up a rock and threw it at the water, it bounced twice before sinking. When you lowered your head to look for another stone you heard a sound in the water that made you alert, when you got up and looked around you didn't find anything at first, but when you looked more closely over the water you were surprised to find another pair of eyes, staring at you, shining in the dark of the night.

- Who are you?! - pressed the stone tighter against your hand, threatening to throw it, taking a step back.

The creature with bright eyes and wet brown hair that stuck to its face approached slowly, you didn't hesitate, little by little the being emerged from the water, it was a man, with long brown hair that outlined his jaw, a sparse beard and penetrating brown eyes, there were fins where his ears should have been, some scales on his shoulders. That glow in his eyes... You knew perfectly well what he was: a triton. You had never seen one so close up, only in books. As the man came out of the water, you reproached yourself as ran your eyes down his naked torso.

- What is a human doing alone on the night of Samhain? - all you could pay attention to was how his smile had sharper teeth than usual.

- You still haven't answered me: who are you!

- I'm Kíli, sorry I didn't introduce myself before, I've seen you here a few times, but never as angry as today.

Analyzing the man, you lowered your arm, but still holding the stone.

- If you had already seen me, why never came to talk to me?

- Well, there aren't many of my kind left, I had my reasons to be scared - he approached and sat down on the edge of the lake.

You had already heard many legends about merpeople, legends that told of their powers of manipulation to enchant people, to attract them and take them to the bottom of the sea. And yet you approached him, his eyes attracting you more and more.

- I see... I've never seen a triton so close up before - revealed and sat down in front of him.

- And I've never seen a human up close - he smiled.

- Can I? - you asked shyly as you raised your hand and approached his face, without touching him.

Kíli nodded yes, carefully you brought your hand closer to the fin. Was cold, his skin was thin and delicate, extremely smooth like silk, still damp. Your hand came down closer to his face, there were some scales on the side of his face, his eyes were the darkest you had ever seen, very carefully you ran your fingertips over the gills on the side of his neck, sending goosebumps all over his body. When you looked down you could see his tail, it was a shiny emerald green, the scales started just below his hip.

- Can I? - His sudden voice snapped you out of your fascination.

- What?

- Can I see you too? - he asked, extending his hand just like you did.

When you said yes, Kíli brought his hand closer to your ear, carefully running his fingers over it, curious. He felt your face and hair, admiring each new and different texture. Kíli held your hands and brought them close to his eyes, there was no thin and transparent membrane between your fingers like his, your hands were smaller and soft, when he looked up and met your eyes he became shy and let go of your hands.

- Yeah... As I thought - he said, crossing his arms.

- What? - slightly furrowed your eyebrows.

- You are beautiful - he smiled.

You automatically looked away from him and couldn't control a smile, deep down you knew exactly what that was, he was trying to seduce you, every merpeople did that, it was so obvious, but so addictive. You didn't want him to stop.

- Yes, you are exactly as the books say... - he opened his eyes wider, anxious - ... Charming - he smiled more cheerfully than before.

- You still haven't answered me why you're out here alone.

- I fought with my parents... I preferred to leave home and since I had nowhere to go...

- I understand... - he was silent for a while, analyzing the situation - ... Would you like to spend Samhain with me?

You couldn't hide how surprised you were by the proposal, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, the words getting jumbled on your tongue before you could say anything back.

- With you? Here?

- No - he laughed at your innocence - Not here, at my house, I can take you there and we'll be back at dawn.

- How? The merpeople's houses are underwater, aren't they? I have to remind you that I can't breathe underwater - you both laughed.

-Yes, I know that, dear, but I can make you breathe underwater... With a kiss - the surprised look returned to your face - if you want, of course.

Analyzing the situation, you studied every possible risk, remembering how you had never experienced any adventure, remembering your father's screams at you, the anger you felt...

- Okay, - you decided.

Slowly, Kíli approached, giving you time to give up, but you had already made up your mind. His lips were soft and rested gently against yours, his hands bringing you closer. The kiss was delicate, his mouth was hot, giving you goosebumps with the growing desire, his arms wrapped around you and you let yourself be carried away. Opening your eyes as your lips parted, you realized you were now underwater. Scared, you held your breath, afraid of drowning, you looked up and realized you were very far from the surface. You felt a warm hand wrap around yours, it was Kíli, with a smile he took your other hand away from your mouth and nose and said that you could breathe without fear and in fact you managed to your surprise.

Still holding your hand he took you deeper into the water, fish of the most varied types passed around you, a cloud of bubbles dancing as the school followed its path, sea flowers that you had never seen before opened up to you, it was like you were in a dream, and honestly, you didn't want to wake up.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

October Calendar

Masterlist

[fili-urzudel]

Hi I absolutely love your writing!!! Like seriously you have me smiling to myself hard I feel like an idiot lol. Anyway, can I request a romantic Kili with fake relationship + forehead touches? Bonus points if you add teasing brother Fili into the story too!

I love getting compliments like this omg! I'm so sorry that it took me so long to get this out for you and that I sort of left Fíli out (though whoever said this couldn't have a part two?).

When I put 50. under the meet cute prompt, I meant exactly that: you're strangers when one or the other of you finds yourself in need of a fake romance to escape some situation.

I also have Taylor Swift on the brain

9. Forehead touches (again yippee!)

12. Dancing (added this one)

50. Need a fake relationship immediately

Warnings: Dancing, being a little intoxicated, lying, reader describes self as a woman

Word count: 1.2k

Enchanted - Kíli Durin x Reader

It was nice to be recognized as equals by the dwarves of Erebor. This was what you reminded yourself as you leaned against a pillar in the back of the ballroom. It was nice that they were attempting to involve the people of Dale in their culture. It was nice that, after three years of instability, the two kingdoms could afford a night of leisure.

You had never really been one for parties. Talking got to be boring and stressful quickly, most of the eligible men had already picked their dancing partners, and you had made a promise to yourself to stay lucid. Unfortunately, dwarven liquor was quite strong, so you could only manage one drink for the time being. 

You sighed, wondering if you had wasted too much time tailoring your dress for this event. If you had wasted too much time on practicing what few traditional dwarven group dances you could find information on.

As your eyes swept the room again, they landed on an attractive side profile. Dark hair with bangs, strong features, a dusting of stubble that you hadn't seen before but found appealing, and brown eyes—oh, no. You quickly glanced away, wondering how long you had been staring. You decided to risk raising your eyes again, in the hopes of appearing less awkward. He made eye contact once more, and smiled. It was a dazzling smile, one that you couldn't help but respond in kind to. 

He was moving through the crowd before you knew it. 

"I can see you're having just as much fun as I am," he said sardonically, and you chuckled. 

"Never have I been so excited," you agreed with him.

"Well, there are ways to make the evening more interesting," he mused, and you wondered what he could mean. He glanced to the side, clearly recognizing someone, and he stepped closer, well within your personal space. "Are you a good actor?"

"What?" You asked in a daze. You feared your tipsiness dragging down your understanding.

"A dwarrowdam has been eagerly pursuing me for some weeks and she is beginning to refuse to believe that I have a partner."

"And do you?"

"No," he admitted, and the two of you laughed. "But you could help me uphold the lie."

You contemplated it for a moment. He was certainly more interesting than any man you had yet met. You would go so far as to say he was incredibly handsome. It was all almost enough to make you wish that his interest was more than just a ploy to escape an annoyance. But a dance partner was a dance partner.

"Dance with me," you offered, which earned you another bright smile.

"Of course, my lady," he held out his hand. You realized that neither of you had asked the others' names. Neither of you had offered. 

You took his hand.

"Do you know this dance?" he asked.

"I practiced," you nodded seriously. "Just... never with someone who learned it traditionally."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," he said with another easy smirk. The violins signaled that you had no more time to wonder.

The dance would have been head-spin inducing even if you were sober, especially being the tallest among the dancers. That was rare for you. Still, the intertwined elbows, quick turns, and aisles of other dancers were a thrill, and you were glad to finally be able to participate.

You gave a hearty laugh as the dance finally came to an end with a stomp and a loud cheer. "I did it!" You said proudly, to no one in particular.

Your partner smiled along with you. "You did excellently!" His expression suddenly changed. "Here she comes," he muttered, and you were barely able to steal a glance before the mass of petticoats made herself known. 

"My prince!" She said with fake politeness and a painted on smile. You did your best to hide your surprise. Prince? Was that only a pet name?

He did look awfully similar to your father's description of one of the dwarves that had paraded through Laketown, now that you thought of it. "May I ask who your lovely partner may be? It's quite unusual, men dancing with dwarves, don't you think?"

"Well, then it is a good thing I am a woman," you said, chuckling in a way that you hoped matched her energy. You introduced yourself. "Thank you for calling me lovely. I am courting this handsome dwarf!"

She glanced between the two of you, looking confused and mildly angry. She hid it surprisingly well. "Is this true?" She asked your partner, and he laughed nearly naturally. 

"Of course it is! I keep telling you about her, and well, here she is," he gestured to you with his free hand.

"You never mentioned her name before," she insisted.

"She's a private, quiet maiden. Something I appreciate about her," he said, pushing more warmth into his voice. He was selling it very well.

She stood, upset, observing the two of you for another moment. Just as you were about to excuse the two of you, she spoke up again. 

"Why is it that neither of you have courting beads?"

Your partner's mouth gaped for a moment, and you scrambled for a believable lie. What on earth and in the heavens was a courting bead?

"Ah, well, men's traditions are different, and I am waiting to give..." you realized you still didn't know his name. "...my love a bead of his own until I can learn to forge one well enough that it is an adornment rather than a burden."

"No matter how much I assure her that any gift from her is a treasure," he said with a smile, looking up at you. 

You took the opportunity to hopefully shake his suitor for good. It was the least you could do for your new friend. You dropped your forehead against him, putting on your best lovesick smile. "You're too sweet, beloved."

"Well," the impatient dam huffed. "Congratulations."

Your hair blocked your view. "Is she gone?" You murmured, realizing you could feel his breath on your lips.

"Yes, I do believe you've rescued me," he chuckled, eyelashes fluttering at your closeness. 

"My pleasure," you smiled, before remembering yourself. You straightened, allowing the two of you to clear the floor before the next dance. "Why did she call you Prince?"

"Ah, right," he cast his eyes to the floor. "I am Kíli Durin, Prince of Erebor. Not that it means much, since I'm not in line for the throne."

"Huh," you said simply, sure that if this were any other circumstance, you would be all but panicking. "Well, um, I believe I've already introduced myself, Your Highness. It's a pleasure to properly make your acquaintance."

The prince's face seemed to fall. "Come now, we don't need all of that," he assured you. "I much prefer for you to call me by anything other than my title."

You laughed. "What, like 'my love'?" You referenced your earlier bluff. "I don't suppose that would do for a man I just met."

You thought you perhaps could have seen his cheeks turn pink at the name. "Well, no, but Kíli is a perfectly acceptable middle ground."

"Nice to meet you then, Kíli."

"And it is an honor to meet you."

[rynneer]

Misty Memories Cold

When you wake in Fíli’s bed with no recollection of anything after an accident in Mirkwood, he’s ready to risk anything, even his uncle’s wrath, to bring back what you had together.

<< Beginning | < Previous | Next >

Chapter Five

“I’m not sure I like this idea,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest against the hallway’s chill. The light from mid-morning sunbeams slowly fades to the flickering orange light of torches as you get closer to the core of the mountain.

“The worst he can do is say no,” Tauriel replies coolly. For someone so out of place in the realm of dwarves, she walks with extraordinary confidence, towering over everyone—especially you.

Fíli and Kíli exchange skeptical looks, but remain silent.

You, however, do not. “You don’t know Thorin.”

“That is true,” she hums, “but I know kings.” Tauriel hardly pauses as you approach the large, double doors leading to the war room.

Kíli shoots out an arm to block her from entering. “Us first,” he insists. “He won’t exactly be thrilled to see you.”

The hinges creak in protest as he swings open the heavy door, interrupting Thorin mid-sentence. The king sits at the head of a long table, flanked by two empty seats, normally occupied by his heirs. The rest of the chairs are filled by Balin, Dwalin, and a handful of elves. The guests’ eyes narrow curiously, but when you step into the room, they duck their heads to whisper amongst themselves. Fíli puts an arm around your waist, standing as tall as he can and glowering at them.

“Kíli, you are late,” Thorin scolds. “Fíli, Y/N, I believe I made it clear that you have… other duties today.” He pointedly ignores Tauriel.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Your Highness,” Tauriel says smoothly, her voice all business. “May we speak in private? It is an urgent matter.”

Thorin continues to pretend she’s not there, clearing his throat and gesturing for Kíli to sit. “As I was saying–”

But she will not be ignored. “It is of particular importance to your princess,” she presses.

All heads in the room turn to you. Fíli winces and tightens his arm around you. Even Thorin appears momentarily stunned by her interruption, but he quickly regains his composure and fixes the elf with a glare.

“You are excused,” he hisses. “We–”

“Your Highness–” she tries to interject again.

“Do not interrupt me!” the king snaps. He rises from his seat, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You are an escort, nothing more. You are not welcome at the negotiating table.”

“Thorin, please,” you say softly. You press against Fíli, making yourself as small and vulnerable-looking as possible. The act works—Thorin softens just the tiniest bit.

His nostrils flare as he breathes heavily, glancing back at the elvish delegates. They eye the king with suspicion. “Everyone out,” he says at last. His teeth are clenched so hard you’re surprised they don’t crumble.

“There is tea waiting in the great hall,” Balin offers, a bit more diplomatically. He ushers the delegation from the room and gives you a tiny nod as he passes.

“Sit,” Thorin growls.

You drop into a chair instantly at his command, already wary of his anger. Fíli takes his seat and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. But you grip it tightly, not letting him pull away. He resists for a second, then lets his hand relax in yours and brushes his thumb over the back of it.

“What do you want?”

You jump slightly when Thorin addresses you.

“We have a proposal–”

“I did not ask you,” Thorin cuts Tauriel off brusquely, still looking at you.

It’s quiet for a moment as you open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say. “Tauriel has a plan,” you finally offer.

“Hear her out, please,” Kíli jumps in. His leg bounces beneath the table, making ripples on the surfaces of abandoned glasses of wine. “She thinks she knows how to cure Y/N.”

His phrasing makes you wince, and Fíli squeezes your hand again.

“Nonsense,” Thorin scoffs. “There’s nothing wrong with her. Nothing that you should know about,” he adds when Tauriel arches an eyebrow. “Unless someone has been speaking of things they should not.”

Everyone turns to Kíli, who suddenly looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. He gives you a helpless shrug, hands raised in surrender.

“Thorin, please,” Fíli urges quietly. “This is Y/N that we are talking about. Our Y/N.”

A vein throbs in Thorin’s temple, but he looks at Tauriel for the first time since she entered. “Get on with it, then.”

She dips her head. “Whatever ails her is not a physical problem, it’s magic borne of Mirkwood. That’s something dwarves simply cannot address.” Thorin bristles, but she raises a hand before he can speak. “I’ve no doubt that you have skilled healers, but she needs more than herbs and rest. Let her return to Mirkwood with me, and we will do everything we can to restore her memory.”

Hope rises in your chest as Thorin studies the elf maiden. “Why are you offering this? What do you stand to gain from helping?” His tone is laced with suspicion, but less anger than before.

“I’ve a certain… admiration for the for kingdom of Erebor after all it has endured.” Her eyes flicker briefly to Kíli, who absentmindedly fiddles with his belt. “I would be glad to see its princess well once again.”

“Can you swear that your efforts will be successful? That she will return whole and unharmed with her memories intact?”

But that hope dies as Tauriel hesitates. “I cannot,” she admits at last.

“No.” Thorin rises from the table, taking his mantle from the back of his chair and heading for the door.

“No?!” you repeat incredulously. You’re on your feet before you even know it, hands curled into fists at your side. Fíli moves to grab your wrist, but you dodge his hand. “This is our best chance to–”

“No!” He turns on his heel to face you again. There’s a shadow across his face, brows knitted in a furious glare. “It is too much to risk without a guarantee of success. That is final.”

“Fine!” you snap, crossing your arms. Your headache pulses even harder behind your eyes. “I’ll go anyway!”

“Careful, Y/N…” Kíli whispers. He’s risen as well, knuckles white as they grip the back of his chair.

“Then you can stay there,” Thorin thunders. His stormy eyes move to his nephews. “And if either of you set foot outside our lands, you can keep going all the way back to Ered Luin. Now, get out.”

“Uncle–”

“Out, Fíli! All of you!”

You snort, glaring at Thorin and pulling Fíli up from the table by his wrist. “Come on,” you grumble. “I’m not going to keep arguing with a stone wall.” You storm from the room, dragging Fíli with you and doing your best to slam the oversized door—right in poor Kíli’s face. He pushes it open behind you, nearly stumbling as Tauriel breezes past him.

“Pack your things for a journey,” she says briskly, her long strides quickly putting distance between you and the angry king. “All of you. We leave at midnight.”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Fíli hisses. “You heard Thorin—he’ll have our heads!”

“If he even lets us back in,” Kíli mutters.

“Thorin can… what is that phrase you use, Y/N?”

“‘Get fucked?’” you offer.

“Yes, that.”

“This is a bad idea,” Fíli reminds the group for the hundredth time. But even as he voices his concerns, he still busies himself with tacking up the ponies and arranging the bags. “If Thorin or Amad catch us, we’re as good as dead.”

“With how loud you’re talking, they can probably hear you from their chambers.” You shift from one foot to the other, shivering. August in the mountains means pleasantly warm days, but the northern cold refuses to be forgotten, bringing frigid nights. Without missing a beat, Fíli sheds his coat and drapes it over your shoulders. You give him a quick smile.

A warm, fuzzy snout nudges your shoulder. You turn to find a black and white pony stretching its neck over the door of its stall, sniffing your pack hopefully. It nickers softly when you lift your hand to stroke its nose.

“That one’s yours,” Kíli says, leaning against the stable’s door. Tauriel and his pony already wait outside, the animal pawing impatiently at the ground. “You named him Domino, and refused to tell us what that means.”

“Domino?” You smile as you fit the bridle on him. “Perfect.” He follows you outside obediently, still nudging your bag in hopes of finding treats. Fíli comes to your rescue once again with a handful of sugar cubes swiped from the kitchen. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Trying to steal my pony’s heart?”

“Aye.” Fíli winks and swings himself up onto his mount. “And I’m coming for yours next.” But his face turns serious as he glances up at the moon, full over your heads. Wisps of clouds tickle its edges, threatening to block out its light. “We should go. If we make good pace, it shouldn’t be more than a few weeks’ travel.”

You sigh and climb up on your own pony. Next to Tauriel’s horse, you’re reminded once again how small you are. Inside the mountain, it’s easier to ignore. Everything is dwarf-sized. You-sized. But outside, the world does not cater to your diminished stature.

“A few weeks’ travel to where?” A voice from behind startles you from your thoughts. Fíli freezes next to you.

You turn around slowly, feeling like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. Dís folds her arms and taps her foot as she waits for an answer. There’s something tucked under her arm, but you can’t quite make it out.

“Nowhere,” Kíli responds quickly. “Nowhere at all.” He gives his mother the most innocent look he can muster, but it’s pointless. Every pony is laden with at least one travel pack.

Fíli purses his lips tightly. “We’re going to get help for Y/N,” he admits through gritted teeth. He raises his chin defiantly, as if expecting resistance. “Thorin won’t listen. We’re taking matters into our own hands.”

Dís shakes her head in disappointment. Your heart sinks as she steps forward and tugs Fíli’s coat down from your shoulders. The journey, over before it even began.

“Not dressed like that, you’re not.” She returns the coat to Fíli and unfolds the bundle under her arm. It unfurls into a thick, forest green cloak. “I was saving this for an anniversary gift, but you’ll be needing it if you don’t want to freeze at night,” she explains as she hands it to you. She squeezes your hand. “Come back safe. I’ll stall Thorin as best I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, wrapping the cloak around you.

“Fíli is right, we must be off,” Tauriel snaps her reins and sets off down the packed earth road. The boys fall in behind her.

“And Kíli?” Dís calls after them.

He halts his pony with a tug of the reins and turns in his saddle with a sigh. “Yes, Amad?”

“Hurry up and propose to the elf.” She slaps the haunches of your pony, sending you lurching forward into the night.

Fíli did not like it.

He couldn’t tell if it was day or night. He couldn’t see the path ahead—if there even was one. He couldn’t hear whatever Thorin was saying.

But mostly, he didn’t like how you hung limply in his arms, head lolling with each step he took. He hefted you closer to his chest, shifting you to better support your head in the crook of his arm. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.” There was no response from the woman in his arms. It was almost upsetting, how light you felt. How small you were. You were dwarf-sized, yes, but the proportions were all wrong.

Fíli glanced up to make sure he was still with the Company. Since they’d left the main path, it was becoming harder to keep up. He’d nearly lost them a few… minutes ago? Hours? Days?

After Fíli had caught up—or let them catch up to him, he couldn’t tell—Kíli started to hold onto Fíli’s coat to stay together, like he’d once done as a child. Slowly, they fell to the back of the group.

“Let me carry her for a bit.” Kíli slipped an arm underneath you.

As the younger prince made to take you from Fíli, his blood ran hot. He only held you tighter, pulling away from Kíli. “No,” he growled. “I’m carrying her.”

“Fee, you’ll tire.”

“I won’t!” he snapped. “I have to be there when she wakes up. It has to be me! I…” His sudden burst of ferocity faded away as he looked down at you, leaving behind a hollow feeling in his chest.

If he didn’t know any better, he would think you were dead. Only the slow rise and fall of your chest proved you still lived. In rare moments, your face would twitch, ever so slightly. Holding you like this, your body as limp as a ragdoll, made his stomach feel as if it was filled with stones.

Cold talons of dread gripped his heart. “She will wake up,” Fíli whispered, his soft voice trembling. He looked back up at Kíli for reassurance. “She will. She has to. And I need to be there, it has to be me. I have to tell her… She needs to know…” A lump in his throat kept Fíli from continuing.

Kíli furrowed his brow. He’d never seen his brother look this distressed. As his eyes went back and forth from your face to Fíli’s, it dawned on him. His eyes grew wide. “You’re… Fíli… You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you?”

Fíli’s mouth moved silently, as if the words were stuck in his throat. But he didn’t need to answer. His face told Kíli everything he needed to know. The desperation. How his expression softened when he gazed at you. The way he gently cradled you.

“Is she your…?” Kíli didn’t need to finish; the word hung heavily in the air between the brothers. His One.

Amad had explained once how it felt to find her One in their father. She had courted a few other dwarrows, but something always gnawed at the back of her mind. But meeting him, she spoke of a warmth that filled her, how everything just felt right. Fíli had never given it much thought. None of the dams in Ered Luin particularly caught his eye. And besides, Thorin never took a wife. Sometimes a dwarf just doesn’t find their One, or care much about finding them.

But you… Fíli hadn’t felt the instant warmth and security his mother had described when he met you. It crept in slowly as you ate together, rode together, fought together. When you sent him little smiles from across the fire at dinner. When you listened intently as he showed you his blades. When you gripped his arm tightly at the first sign of danger. There was no going back for Fíli, and even though your new size worried him, the way you fit in his arms felt right. It shouldn’t feel right, he knew that. He had never heard of a dwarf finding their One in someone of an entirely different race. And of course, you were even stranger, coming from another world.

“Fee?” Kíli’s voice, unusually gentle, pulled Fíli from his thoughts.

With great effort, Fíli tore his gaze from you and looked his brother in the eye. “I don’t know what else this feeling could be,” he answered simply.

Both princes fell silent as they watched your sleeping face. “This will not be easy,” Kíli said at last.

“I know.”

[runesandramblings]

Violent Delights

Word Count: 6200

Pairings: Kili x reader

Warnings: Unhappy arranged marriage but nothing violent or abusive

Description: A forbidden romance blossoms between King Thranduil's arranged bride to be and the Prince of Erebor. (Loosely inspired by Romeo & Juliet without the death part.)

Will make a part 2 if you guys want it. :)

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume.

The breeze felt wonderful against your skin after being indoors for so long. You inhaled deeply, allowing the fresh scent of the forest to fill your lungs as you relished in the sounds around you. The chirping birds, the rustling leaves… The walls you’d been kept behind were quiet, far too quiet for your taste. You were used to the sounds of life in the forest, and to be surrounded by the familiar noises once again filled you with delight. 

“Lady (Y/N), we should probably get back.” 

Temporarily, at least. 

You turned to look back at your escort. Tauriel, the captain of King Thranduil’s guard, had been reassigned as your personal escort the day you’d arrived. She was around your age, both of you quite young for elves, and in spite of the differences in your position she’d grown to be a close friend. Your only friend, really. 

“You don’t have to call me that.” You reminded her once again. 

She smiled, and you knew she would continue no matter how many times you told her otherwise.

“You are a lady, are you not? Soon to be the queen?” 

You grimaced at the reminder.

“Unfortunately.” You muttered under your breath. It was probably loud enough for her to hear, but you didn’t care. She was well aware of your feelings on the arrangement. 

You had not come to the kingdom under your own will. Your father, a high lord of another elven kingdom, had desired an alliance between your people and the much more powerful elves of Mirkwood. In exchange for protection and trade agreements, he’d offered King Thranduil your hand. You were both surprised the king had actually accepted, and as soon as word arrived of his agreement to the terms you’d been sent off to Mirkwood the very same afternoon. 

It was well known to many that the king had tragically lost his wife in a battle against orcs many years before. You were as shocked as anyone that he’d agreed to marry again, after he’d been intentionally alone for so many years. Upon your arrival he had been quick to inform you that the marriage was one purely of convenience, as your people had much to offer Mirkwood. Outside of that one conversation, you had not spent any time alone with the king. You’d not spent any time with him at all, really. Aside from the occasional dinner, which was also usually attended by his son, you had only seen Thranduil a handful of times since you’d arrived in Mirkwood a month before.

He was not unkind. From the small interactions you’d had with him he did not appear to be cruel or malicious. You sensed his hardened exterior had a lot to do with the loss of his first wife, and you could not fault him for that. For the most part since your arrival you had been left to your own devices within the walls of the kingdom. Thranduil had given you your own private chambers. They were large and luxurious, with the finest silken tapestries and hand carved furniture you could imagine. Your time was yours alone, as the king never sought an audience with you, and you spent it as you pleased. You’d grown close to Tauriel very quickly, and Thranduil’s son Legolas was also good company. 

Though you could hardly complain about the lavish treatment and unending free time, it had grown into a lonely existence. Your chambers, though massive, felt cold and empty without someone to share it with. You’d explored every nook and cavern of Mirkwood, read every book and parchment in the library, and quickly grew tired of the same mundane routine you’d fallen into. Which, subsequently, led to your trip outside of the kingdom walls with Tauriel. 

Speaking of Tauriel. You felt her step closer to you as she whispered in your ear.

“It could be far worse, (Y/N). I know this is not what you wanted, but Thranduil is a fair and noble man. You will have a good life here.” 

You knew she was right. As a highborn lady in your home kingdom, you’d watched many friends married off to unsavory men over the years. Of all the arrangements you could have ended up with, you’d been matched to the King of Mirkwood. You knew you would live a good life, a luxurious life. But you also knew you were walking into a loveless marriage, and the prospect of being alone pained you. Elves lived long lives, and you couldn’t imagine being a wife in name only for a thousand years or longer. You desired love and true companionship. 

As you looked back at her, nodding your head in resignation of the truth you knew she spoke, she gestured over her shoulder towards the direction of the gate. Time to return. You relented in defeat, following her as she began winding her way back through the woodland trails. The forest was safe now, the spiders having been driven off for good shortly after the Battle of the Five. The king was still reluctant to allow anyone to leave, and it had taken some persuasion on Tauriel’s part to get him to allow the adventure. You hoped he would consent to regular walks in the forest, so long as you didn’t try to abuse the privilege. He did not strike you as a controlling man, but he was certainly protective of his kingdom and those within it.

You took one last, deep breath of the fresh air before you stepped through the heavily guarded doors behind Tauriel. As you turned to say your goodbyes for the evening, you were approached by a taller, dark haired elf. You recognized him as one of Thranduil’s personal servants as he bowed before you. 

“Lady (Y/N), the king has requested an audience.” 

You looked between the messenger and Tauriel, unable to hide the expression of surprise that crossed your features. Thranduil had sent for you? 

Tauriel nodded politely to you as she bowed, dismissing herself as the servant gestured for you to follow him. 

“You know where to find me should you need me, my lady.” She said before turning and departing.

You followed the servant down the winding corridors, through the only passageways you were still unfamiliar with in the kingdom. As you and Thranduil had separate chambers and living spaces, you hadn’t had cause to explore the areas surrounding his rooms. You were surprised to find he had summoned you into his private quarters, rather than his throne room or the dining hall you semi-frequently gathered in. 

The servant came to a halt in front of a large set of ornate doors and he knocked once before opening it, gesturing for you to step through. You stepped inside and the doors closed behind you. The servant didn’t follow you in, and as you continued on alone your mind raced with the possibilities of why Thranduil might have requested to speak with you. 

You were surprised to find his chambers were not much more lavish than your own. He’d clearly spared no expense on your living quarters, as his shared the same style of furniture and tapestries as yours did. The only visible difference you could detect was that his rooms were just a slight bit larger than yours. As you rounded the corner into the main living area you found the king at last. He was standing with his back to you, and as you approached he did not turn to greet you. You stopped a few yards away from him, standing awkwardly with your hands clasped together. He was a king, after all, and you were uncertain if you should speak first. Surely he’d heard you enter. 

After several long moments of silence, Thranduil finally spoke. 

“How have you been finding the kingdom?” He asked, his back still turned to you. His arms moved as he spoke, and from behind it looked as though he were fidgeting with something on the table he stood before.

“Fine, your majesty.” You said quietly, not bothering to elaborate. You didn’t think he’d care too much for the details anyway.

“Have you been treated well?” He continued, still not turning to face you.

“Yes, your majesty.” 

“You may call me Thranduil.” He finally turned, holding two goblets of red wine in his hands. He handed you one and took a long sip from his own before continuing. “We are to be wed, after all. Even if it is merely an arrangement.” 

You nodded wordlessly as you accepted the glass. You remained silent, uncertain of what to say. He paused for a moment before he pivoted on his heel and began to walk back in the direction he’d come.

“I have received an invitation from King Thorin.” As he spoke he paced around the room, sipping from his goblet. It was clear he was as uncertain of what to do in your presence as you were in his. “They are holding a celebration in honor of the anniversary of Erebor’s reclamation. Would you care to attend with me?” 

That was surprising. Despite the joint effort it took between the dwarves and elves to defeat the orc armies, they were still not on the best of terms. Thorin had, after all, attempted to keep the elves’ jewels to himself and nearly started a war between the two clans as a result. There was an uneasy peace between the two, now that the dwarves resided in the mountain once again, and you were surprised that Thranduil would be willing to travel all that way to be in the company of dwarves.

“Yes your ma- Thranduil.” You quickly corrected yourself.

He paused and turned to look at you, though he did not make a move to step closer. 

“I do not expect love to grow between us.” He said flatly.  “But we should be able to tolerate each other, should we not?” 

You nodded.

“Yes, I would say so.” 

He nodded in return as he held his wine glass out, indicating a toast. 

“Very well then. We leave in one week's time.” 

** 

The journey from Mirkwood to Erebor had taken two days, and with the lavish way in which Thranduil liked to travel it was not an uncomfortable trek as you’d anticipated. You arrived at the mountain kingdom well rested, and rather excited at the prospect of a feast. From what the king had explained of dwarvish parties he remembered from the late King Thror’s time, the feast could go on for days. You would be arriving at the tail end of the celebration, as Thranduil had planned. Dwarves were apparently a rambunctious bunch, and as Thorin had requested Thranduil stay and tour the mountain afterwards he had not wanted to spend more time with them than he needed. 

Erebor was as magnificent as you’d been told. It was amazing how the mountain had been transformed and rebuilt in merely a year's time. Though you were used to the splendor of elven realms, as both Mirkwood and your birth home were lavish and beautiful, there was something awe-inspiring about the kingdom under the mountain. The halls were endless, sprawling on in either direction as far as your eyes could see. The ceilings were impossibly high, and despite the kingdom being built into the side of a mountain there seemed to be an abundance of light flowing from any given direction. To look down at the winding staircases that led deeper into the heart of the mountain would make you dizzy, if you stared too long. The stone walls were carved and inlaid with intricate designs of gold and silver, telling the tales and the history of the line of Durin. You had studied many languages, and Khuzdul was one you were somewhat familiar with. You’d found yourself stopping every few feet along the walk to your chambers to read the inscriptions on the walls. 

Legolas, Tauriel, and a handful of others had made the journey along with yourself and Thranduil. The dwarves had spared no luxury for your group, as you’d each been housed in your own private chamber within the mountain. Dwarvish extravagance was very different from that of your elven home. Where the elves valued natural elegance, which involved a lot of carved wood and intricate silks, the dwarves had more of a rugged taste. Your rooms consisted of chiseled stone furniture and fixtures, inlaid with even more gold and a number of jewels you had never laid eyes on before. Though it was very different from your home in Mirkwood, it still felt comfortable and welcoming. 

The dwarf servant that had been assigned to your care had asked what could be provided to make your stay more enjoyable, and she was delighted at your request for books to read later in the evening. She seemed impressed at your ability to read and understand Khuzdul, as many elves didn’t care or bother to learn the language of the dwarves. You’d noticed the air of arrogance Thranduil and Legolas, and even Tauriel, had displayed since your arrival, and you made it your mission to change the dwarves’ opinion of elves, even if the others chose not to do the same. 

After resting and dressing for dinner, you’d met Thranduil and the others in the hall. He extended his arm out to you automatically, as though it were expected rather than something he cared to do. You’d accepted it regardless. As you walked along he did not look down at you, or even acknowledge your dress or appearance for the event. Was this the life you were destined for? Emotionless, cold… Doing things merely out of duty and not from love? You felt your heart sink as you walked along beside the king. It was a lonely existence. 

The feast was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was chaos. There were long, sprawling tables lined with food and more dwarves than you could count. As you watched, food flew from every side of the room, ale spilled across the tabletops and onto the floor, and dwarves moved about, falling over themselves and each other. It was clear the drinking had been going on for much longer than the actual feast. 

“They behave like animals.” Thranduil muttered under his breath. 

Despite having never been in the company of dwarves before, you found yourself surprisingly unbothered by their behavior. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, which was more than you could say for your royal escort. It was certainly more rambunctious than any elvish party you had ever attended, but at least they were having a good time. 

As your party approached a large table at the head of the room, one of the dwarves stood to greet you. He was dark haired with a matching dark beard. Streaks of gray peppered both his long hair and speckled his face, and with the gold and emerald crown atop his head you took him to be the king. As he stood he extended his hand in a greeting.

“King Thranduil.” He bowed his head out of respect to the elven king as he placed his hand across his chest. “We are pleased you could make the journey.” 

Thranduil nodded tightly in return, also bowing his head to Thorin to your surprise. 

“King Thorin.” He said politely, though you could hear the hint of tension in his voice.  “This is my betrothed, Lady (Y/N). You’ve met my son, Prince Legolas.” 

Thorin nodded at you both before gesturing to the dwarves seated on either side of him. On one side sat a woman, with dark hair similar to his own. They shared a stark resemblance, down to the neatly trimmed beard she wore as well. On his other side sat a younger dwarf, who also matched the seeming familial resemblance to the other two. He had wavy, golden hair with braids woven through. His braided mustache bounced as he nodded his head in respect. 

“A pleasure, my lady. My prince. This is my sister, Lady Dis. My nephew and heir, Prince Fili. My other nephew will be joining us shortly.” As he spoke he gestured to two empty seats on the opposite side of the prince. “King Thranduil, would you and your betrothed join us at the head table?” 

Your eyes traveled to the spot down from the empty spaces. You recognized the king of the newly rebuilt city of Dale, Bard. The one who had been responsible for slaying Smaug, if you remembered the story correctly. 

Thranduil’s increasingly strained smile caught your attention from the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t help but smirk a bit in response. You knew the last thing he’d wanted for the evening was to be sandwiched between the dwarves he still wasn’t overly fond of and the humans he held in equal disdain. However you knew his kingly pride would not allow him to turn down the offer. You, on the other hand, were excited to continue on with your mission of making the dwarves see the elves in a better light. 

“We’d be honored.” He said, forcing an even larger fake smile. As another dwarf servant appeared and escorted Legolas and the others to their table, Thranduil gestured for you to choose your seat first. Unable to resist the humor of making the king even more uncomfortable, you opted for the seat next to Bard, leaving Thranduil no choice but to sit and make conversation with the dwarven king and prince. 

“It’s a pleasure, my lady.” King Bard said as you sat, extending his hand to help you into your seat. “I was not aware that King Thranduil had taken a bride.” 

“It’s a new development.” You said, quickly attempting to divert the conversation away from your engagement. “How is the work on the city going?” 

As the two of you made light conversation and exchanged pleasantries, speaking of the rebuild of Dale and the newly reformed relations between dwarves, elves, and men, you began to lose track of time. Several courses came and went, and ale and wine continued to flow freely. Though the elvish tolerance made your kind more resistant to the influence of alcohol, the steady refilling of your goblet as you chatted and sipped away had your head spinning before you’d realized what had happened. You began to feel warm, and as you breathed in and out your corset suddenly felt overwhelmingly restrictive around your chest. 

Air. You needed air. 

Without thinking you turned to your fiance, grabbing his arm in an attempt to get his attention. 

“Thranduil.”

He turned to you, and as his eyes met yours his brief look of annoyance quickly turned into one of concern as he noticed your flushed and panicked face. 

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, and you were surprised to find that he actually appeared to be worried for your wellbeing. 

You nodded in reassurance, not wanting to cause a scene as you felt the eyes of Bard and Thorin also turning to you.

“I’m just feeling a bit warm, I think I’m going to step out for a moment.”

Thranduil gave a small nod in return, and you quickly stood and excused yourself from the table.

You were uncertain of where to go, as you’d only arrived in the mountain earlier that day and had not had a chance to get to know your way around. The way back to your room felt somewhat familiar, and you decided a quick stroll there and back might help clear your head. As you wove through the crowd, deftly avoiding numerous drunk and stumbling dwarves, you found that a makeshift dance floor had formed directly in front of the entrance, and only exit, to the great hall. You were unfamiliar with the dwarvish music, but it was much softer and merrier than you expected. Dozens of couples twirled around, following footwork that was unknown to you but something they seemed to know by heart. You were transfixed for several moments, watching them move about with an ease and grace that you didn’t know came so naturally to dwarves. After a few minutes you remembered your desire for some air, and decided you’d still like a short break from the commotion before you returned to the table. You tried to move nimbly along the outskirts of the dance floor, trying to avoid crashing into dancing dwarves as you stayed as far out of the way as possible. As you turned back to watch momentarily, still intrigued, you felt yourself collide solidly with another body. Before you had the chance to correct your footing you found you were falling backward. You braced yourself for the impact, but before your body could crash into the stone floor a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you, and you felt yourself being pulled into a broad chest. 

Your gaze turned forward, looking for the source of your rescue in order to thank whoever had saved you from splitting your head open. As your eyes searched the space in front of you they spotted the top of a head of brown hair; the person to whom it was attached stood a few inches shorter than you. It was a dwarf, if you had to guess. He was still cradling you tightly against him, as though he anticipated you might fall backward again at any moment. You felt his grasp loosen as he leaned back to look up at you, though his arms still remained wrapped around your body.

He was young. The difference in how dwarves and elves aged was unfamiliar to you, but judging by his lack of a beard and softer features you assumed he was not an elder. He had wavy brown hair that was pulled partially back, save for a few loose strands and a fringe of bangs that framed his face and a pair of dazzling brown eyes. Though he lacked the fuller beard and mustache that most dwarves wore he did have a sprinkling of stubble across his face. The lack of a beard allowed you to fully appreciate his chiseled jawline and lips, the latter of which currently sported a wide grin. He was quite handsome, and you couldn’t help but stand and stare down at the stranger for several long moments. 

Too long, you realized. How long had you been standing in silence, staring at the nameless man? It would surely look bad if anyone from your party came strolling by.

“I’m sorry sir-” You started. As you stuttered out an apology you moved to step backward, and subsequently tripped again. The young dwarf immediately grasped your arm tighter to steady you and you felt a blush creep into your cheeks in response. So much for the grace and elegance of the elves. 

“The fault was entirely mine, my lady.” He said in return, his kind smile widening at your flustered speech and clumsiness. He didn’t appear to be bothered by your awkwardness; on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it. His touch lingered on your arm, ensuring you would not fall again before he slowly released his grasp. 

“I’d hardly say so, you were merely walking by and I was not watching where I was going.” Despite your embarrassment you felt a smile spread across your face as well. The kind twinkle in his eyes was contagious, and you quickly felt your fluster fade the longer the two of you spoke.

“Well if you’re so inclined to make amends, you can honor me with a dance.” As he spoke he extended his hand toward you, and in the same motion he nodded his head toward the mass of dancing bodies. The music had slowed to something much less upbeat, something you were sure even you could keep up with. 

You paused. The nameless man had intrigued you, that was for certain. But would dancing with a random dwarf enrage your royal fiance? You craned your neck to look back in the direction of the table you had been sat at with Thranduil and the other royals, but from your position near the dance floor you could not see them. Which meant more than likely they could not see you either. Even so, would it really be that big of a deal? You were supposed to be making peace, after all. 

“That seems only fair.” You said as you turned back to face him. As you accepted his outstretched hand he grasped it tightly, as if he were afraid you’d disappear, and pulled you to the floor. 

The two of you came to a halt in the middle of the mass of bodies. You were surrounded by other dancing pairs on every side, safely hidden away from any watchful eyes. As you rested your hand on his shoulder and entwined the fingers of your free hand with his you felt his other hand rest on your hip. The light touch sent a wave of goosebumps up the side of your body. It was more contact than you’d ever had with the man who was supposed to become your husband. Every point of contact your body had with the stranger felt as though it were on fire. 

Seeming to know you were unfamiliar with the music he took the lead, tugging you gently back and forth until you became comfortable with the simple steps of the dance. You swayed together for a few moments, neither speaking but simply watching each other in a comfortable silence. Though he was a bit shorter than you it was not by much. He stood at eye level with your nose, and you wondered if he were tall for a dwarf, or if you were short for an elf. Thranduil and the others had towered over Thorin, so you expected it was the latter. You had often been one of the smaller elves wherever you’d gone. 

“So you are not from the Iron Hills, I take it.” He grinned up at you as he finally spoke, stating the obvious. There were many physical differences between elves and dwarves, but if your ears and impossibly long hair had not given you away your dress certainly would have. The high-necked and fitted gowns of the dwarven women were a stark contrast to the lower cut and flowing gowns of the elves. 

“I am not.” You confirmed. 

“Are you from Mirkwood?” He continued.

“I am living in Mirkwood, but I am from somewhere farther.” 

“And are all the elves as graceful as you?” He asked. As he spoke he attempted to keep a serious face, as though it were a genuine inquiry. He failed, and before you had the chance to respond to his prodding a smirk broke through his stoic expression. 

“Well I’ve often suspected I’m not entirely an elf.” You said matter-of-factly, playing along with his teasing. “Grace has never been my strong suit.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“I didn’t know my mother. My father does not speak of her. And as you’ve so keenly pointed out, I do lack the natural elegance of the elves.” Why were you telling him this? You’d only just met the man, and yet you found yourself spilling out the innermost things you’d only ever wondered to yourself. 

“And the height.” He quipped, confirming your earlier thoughts. “But you are no less stunning.” 

You felt a warmth spread across your face, and you were certain you’d blushed a scarlet red. He was more forward than you were used to, and although you enjoyed the company of the cheeky dwarf you were also an engaged woman. To a king, no less. You’d become lost in the conversation, fully absorbed in the moments shared with the handsome stranger. To the point you had almost forgotten you were still in the center of a crowded dance floor. You realized the two of you had stopped moving and instead stood staring at each other again. His eyes were mesmerizing. His fringe of bangs had fallen partially to cover them, and you felt yourself drawn to reach forward and brush them away.

“Are you from Erebor?” You quickly asked, sidestepping his compliment. “Or have you traveled for the celebration?” You turned your gaze to the couples around you and tugged on his hand, indicating you should start moving again. 

Out of the corner of your eye you could see his lopsided grin return, fully aware that you’d avoided the second part of his earlier statement. He followed your lead and began to sway with you, though you noted his grip had tightened on your hip. 

“I live here.” 

“Did you live here before the…” You trailed off, uncertain of how the dwarves spoke of the years the mountain stood uninhabited. Was it a sore subject still? 

“Before the dragon?” He finished. “No. Why do I look that old?” His eyebrows furrowed together as he spoke, his expression unreadable. 

You’d offended him.

“N- no. You don’t. I didn’t- I mean-” You felt your face flush red again as you stumbled over your words. Of course he couldn’t have been old enough to have lived through Smaug. Could he? 

He laughed. 

“I’m only joking.” He assured you. As he spoke he stopped moving again, and gestured over his shoulder to the exit you’d been attempting to make it to before. “Would you like to take a walk? I could show you around a bit while everyone is in here. The halls will be empty” 

You felt a flutter run through your stomach at the prospect of being alone with the mystery man. It was a feeling you’d never experienced with Thranduil, and expected you never would. You checked over your shoulder again, still unable to see the head table from where the two of you stood. But again, would it be so bad? Accepting a tour of the kingdom from a dwarf? You had made it your mission to change their view of the elves, after all. You wordlessly nodded, accepting his invitation, and he grinned widely in return as he took your hand and led you nimbly through the crowd.

The halls of Erebor appeared impossibly larger while empty. The stranger led you up and down staircases, pointing out different areas of the kingdom and showing you various repairs that had been completed in order to reverse the damage done by the dragon. As you walked together you lost track of time again, and you wondered how long you’d been absent from the table. Had Thranduil noticed? Likely not. He never seemed to notice or care when you were gone. 

“So how did you come to live in Mirkwood?” Your escort finally asked, his attention turning from the newly rebuilt throne to you. “You mentioned earlier you were not from there.” 

“My…betrothed.” You started hesitantly. “He lives in Mirkwood.” 

You paused, waiting for the inevitable reaction. You were promised to another, and it pained you to tell him. You felt an undeniable draw to this man who’s name you did not know. There was a familiarity and comfort with him, something you’d never felt before and certainly did not feel with Thranduil. As you waited for him to excuse himself and leave you standing alone in the halls you held your breath, dreading the fallout. 

“Oh.” He sounded surprised at the revelation, but not upset. He made no move to run away from you as he continued. “You do not sound happy about the arrangement.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he had not fled at the mention of your fiance. Though you’d made no mention of your unhappiness with the king, he seemed to have noted that it was not a joyous engagement. You wondered if it were that obvious to everyone when you spoke of Thranduil. 

“I’m not.” 

“Does he not treat you well?” He asked. You noticed a look of concern that immediately furrowed lines in his face. 

“In order to treat me well or not well he’d have to spend time with me.” You said, offering him a sad but reassuring smile that your intended was not an unkind man. “And we do not spend any time together. He told me when I arrived we were to be together in name only.” 

“That sounds terribly lonely.” 

“It has been.” You continued quietly. Your gaze turned back to the designs etched into the stone floor as you walked. Who was this stranger? This man you’d known for an hour at most, but somehow you felt more comfortable with than anyone you’d ever met before. You wanted to know him better, but that would surely be impossible. 

The two of you walked on in silence for several minutes before he spoke again. 

“Has he seen you?” He asked suddenly. 

“What do you mean?”

“Has he laid eyes on you?” He asked again, a hint of urgency in his voice. 

“Well, yes, I’m here with him.” You stated simply. What was he getting at? 

The man shook his head as he turned from you back to stare ahead as you walked. 

“He is a madman, then.” 

“How so?”

“To possess a woman so divine and not spend any time with her…” He trailed off, shaking his head again as though in disappointment. “The only conclusion is he must be insane.” 

You felt your cheeks flush at his statement. This stranger had spoken more kind words to you in an evening than Thranduil had in a month. Who was this man? 

“I don’t know if I would say that.” You said quietly, keeping your eyes focused on the ground as you spoke. 

“I would.” He stopped suddenly and took your hand, pulling you to a stop with him. He tugged you around to face him, and kept your hand locked tightly in his as he spoke. “Tales will be written of your beauty some day. You are the fairest princess in the most wonderful fairytale. The most beautiful and elegant of all the elves in all of the realms. The most precious jewel under this mountain. If he is not insane, your betrothed is surely blind.” 

The way he stared up into your eyes sent another flutter through your stomach. Something you’d sorely lacked with Thranduil. Passion. You felt it as strongly as anything, the unmistakable feelings of desire and attraction swirling within you. It was as though the force of gravity itself had shifted, and rather than grounding you to the earth you stood on it was pulling you towards this stranger instead. 

“You flatter me, sir. I do not even know your name.” You whispered. As you spoke you felt yourself unconsciously pulling against his hand, tugging him closer to you. He stepped forward willingly, bringing your bodies only inches apart. 

“I am-” He began.

“Kili.” 

The both of you jumped at the unfamiliar voice that invaded the intimate bubble you’d enclosed yourselves in. You quickly released his hand and stepped backward, putting as much space as possible between you as the intruder approached. The young blonde prince you’d met earlier, Fili if you remembered correctly, was strolling toward the two of you. 

“My lady, this is my brother, Prince Kili.” He said by way of introduction as he came to a halt beside him. “Brother this is Lady (Y/N), the intended of King Thranduil.” It seemed as though he were offering a reminder to the pair of you, rather than an introduction. 

His brother. The king’s nephew. Of course it was. 

The stranger you now knew to be Kili was staring at you, the pieces falling into place as his eyes widened. 

“Thranduil…” He mumbled. “Of course.”

Fili raised an eyebrow in confusion at his brother's muttering before turning his attention back to you. 

“My lady, your fiance requested I come check on you. Are you well?” He asked. He was far more formal and royally appropriate than his brother had been for the past hour. 

You quickly slipped back into a more formal mode yourself, straightening your back and clasping your hands behind you. You nodded respectfully at the elder prince. 

“Thank you, Prince Fili. Prince Kili was just escorting me back to my room. Will you tell King Thranduil I am not feeling well and would like to retire for the evening?” 

He nodded. 

“I will. Brother, our king has requested your presence. Do you know the rest of the way back, my lady?” As he spoke he pulled on his brother's arm, indicating they should return to the hall as quickly as possible. You hoped nothing had been made of your joint absence, though given the fact you’d not been introduced earlier the connection would have been a longshot for anyone to make. 

“I do.” You said, giving the older brother a reassuring smile as he turned to leave. “It was nice to meet you, Kili.” You felt a pang of sadness. The evening had gone by far too quickly, and you knew you were not likely to see the handsome prince again.

“And you, (Y/N).” He took your hand in his and kissed it gently, allowing his lips to momentarily linger against the delicate skin of your hand. He released it and quickly stood, leaning in to whisper in your ear before following his brother. “I will find you again.” 

[ironmandeficiency]

durin line + finding out you have nipple piercings

pairing: durin line (fíli, thorin, kíli)/ fem!reader

word count: 1312

summary: how the sons of durin react to discovering you have nipple piercings

a/n: this just happened to pop into my head and i figured “why not?” it’s my first time writing anything lotr, we’ll see how it goes (18+ for obvs reasons). here’s the dwarven translator i used

warnings: implied smut, one ref to pregnancy, tons of secondhand embarrassment

fíli:

dude was caught off guard in the best way possible

it was only hours after your braiding ceremony, both of your marriage beads glistening in the fireplace light in your shared bedroom

you hadn’t been intimate with each other since beginning your betrothal, and it was not for a lack of trying (dwalin was a painfully obstinate chaperone that had far too many eyes around the kingdom)

doomed to abide by tradition, the most improper act committed was a simple swat or pinch to your ass, or your fingers playfully twirling at the braids in his hair or mustache

removing your clothes in front of fee for the first time before preparing for bed, your love notices two metallic glints on your chest and his jaw falls to the floor

the ends of each silver rod is adorned with polished citrine crystals that were eerily similar to the vibrancy of his hair

you had made no previous mention to him about the metal before then, and he had never noticed their presence throughout the trek to erebor

(the company allowed you at least the semblance of privacy on the few occasions there was time to bathe, and he has manners despite what kíli says to the contrary)

“my tumat, by mahal you never cease to amaze me,” fíli’s constant state of awe over you increased tenfold as he admired how the jewelry complimented your breasts

his callused hands roamed your body, sending goosebumps across your skin with every feather light touch

tradition is very clear about how married couples should spend their wedding night, and who would fíli be to ignore tradition?

tumat — gem

thorin:

training with your beloved was never a simple task. he was never one to hold back a few punches, making sure you learned the easy way that no other enemies would be lenient with you

easy way my ass, you groaned as a well-placed kick behind your knee brought you to the ground

it was refreshing to not be treated like a dainty flower when you were plenty capable, but damn was it a painful process

“come on, my ozbim kovotos,” thorin offers you a hand up with a small smile, “we’ve only just begun!”

you roll your eyes as you get back into a sparring position across from your ridiculous lover

“flattery won’t get you anywhere, amralime!” you playfully yell at him

“it gets you into my bed, doesn’t it?” his teasing tone makes you want to punch the smirk from his handsome face

the coordinated dance you know with the same familiarity as your thorin’s eyes keeps you on your toes, anticipation preparing you for any move he could throw your way

well, any move except for the one he ended up using against you, as luck would have it

thorin knocked you off balance with a well-aimed elbow to the chest, almost knocking the breath from your lungs (he definitely could have if he wanted) as a muscular leg hooked around yours and brought you to the ground

coming back to your senses, you stared at the sky above you and groaned in pain. the hand not covering your face against the sunlight clutched at the poor breast that suffered the brunt of thorin’s strength

to his credit, his response time was almost immediate when he saw you holding your poor breast

he brought you to your feet and fretted over you the way he’s wont to do, asking if your chest was extra sensitive for some reason unbeknownst to him

“it was meant to be a surprise, you dolt!” your complaint had him reeling. surely you weren’t… he hopes to mahal that he didn’t just clobber his one while carrying his child, all the color draining from his face

you were quick to track his thoughts as he started to fret, reassuring him hastily that you weren’t pregnant at all, just nursing some new jewelry that you wanted to show him in your shared chambers later in the evening

his relief was palpable as he heaved a great sigh of relief. your fool of a husband, thinking you’re with child!

that would be the golden ticket to keep you away from his grueling training sessions, not a surprise you spring on him in the middle of one!

you make this known to him and his warm laugh rumbles through your chest. a teasing glint in his eye makes itself known before you’re suddenly thrown over your king’s shoulder, a surprise laugh escaping you

“if you want an excuse to skip our training sessions, you need but ask, ghivashel.”

ozbim kovotos — fierce beloved

ghivashel — treasure of all treasures

kíli:

any time it’s brought up, your dear prince flushes deeper than the color of gloin’s hair and the laughter of the company rings like bells around the fire

after the initial shock of the incident, it became a common source of amusement when spirits were low. each retelling gave more bizarre details and unbelievable quotes that most definitely didn’t happen

after finding shelter within beorn’s home, you relished the idea of getting to rinse off the grime of your adventure in clean water

the shifter’s chivalry (and dislike of dwarves, probably) gave you the first chance to bathe out of the party of 15

time was an illusion as you scrubbed away the dirt and let yourself unwind in the water, the faint breeze rustling the wildflowers in the nearby meadow

eventually, some of the dwarves began to comment about the time you were taking, joking about you becoming a fish (dwalin) or somehow drowning and leaving the others to suffer without a soak (fíli)

this chatter alarmed kee far more than he knew it should, the young prince fighting the urge to check up on you

logic reminded him that you were all safe within beorn’s realm, but some of the others joined in the silly commentary and kíli had no choice to make sure you didn’t actually become a fish

making as inconspicuous an exit as he could, he beelined for the small pond where you were, hoping against hope that you were simply enjoying yourself and

for all the things he was prepared to see (you becoming a human-fish hybrid or being eaten by flesh-eating underwater plants, to name a couple), he was definitely not prepared for what he actually saw

you slowly emerged from the water, tiny droplets kissing your skin softly. the sunlight reflected off each bead with the elegance of the finest jewels on this side of erebor

then his eyes caught the actual jewels you carried on your chest, and kíli would have fallen to his knees in praise of your beauty had you not spotted him first

“is there no such thing as privacy here?! let me bathe in peace, you heathen!”

kee covered his eyes with one palm and turned his back to you for good measure, mortified at his current predicament

“everyone was talking about you getting eaten or drowning, and it worried me! i didn’t mean to be improper!” his voice was so sincere that you couldn’t find it in you to be angry for very long

“i’m alive and well, kíli! now if you’ll wait a moment for me to be dressed, i think a princely escort back to the barn would be plenty to protect me!”

the playful lilt in your voice could be heard from the several yards of distance between you and he exhaled in relief that you weren’t truly offended

he almost turned around again on impulse but caught himself just in time, the blood in his veins hotter than the forges with embarrassment

chuckling to yourself as you put on semi-clean clothes, you looped an arm around kíli’s and let him guide you back to camp, the story of kee seeing you naked becoming an immediate hit

[the-really-lonely-mountain]

Along for the ride, to Erebor - Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the first part for the second movie.

Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too detailed, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien), this chapter is domestic as hell, sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it

Word Count: 4,977

A/N: Hey y'all!! It's been a crazy couple of months let me tell ya! good god! I've decided to finally post the next part of the story to tumblr despite it not having been beta read. I'll use you guys as my guinea pigs lol so if you see anything that doesn't make sense or is spelled wrong, I'm begging you to please tell me. I can't wait to hear what you think about my pride and joy! <3

Image credit: @iamjaynaemarie

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

The company climbed down the tall rock into the forest below. Having rested on the long flight over, everyone was prepared for a day of walking. Nothing notable happened except innocent conversation to pass the time and the forging of grapes with Bilbo for a snack.

The sun dipped closer to the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees. Thorin found a small river to make camp nearby. Gloin made the fire then Bombur started cooking the food. While the stew was being made, Fili and Kili practiced their swordsmanship under the watchful eyes of Thorin and Dwalin to provide guidance. The dwarves had found a log and brought it over beside the fire. You knelt in the grass on the fire’s side parallel to the log. The others were leaning against it on the opposite side, smoking pipes and making jokes and commentary about the training. You pulled out your thread spools and measured out the first color. You realized you didn’t have scissors and asked the merry gathering in front of you if they did.

“Nah lass,” Dori said, “Our weapons aren’t sharp enough to cut thread, they’ll only fray it” He kicked Nori to quiet him when he started to protest the quality of his weapons, “You’ll want to ask Thorin to borrow his sword.”

You swallowed thickly and looked over at the man in question where he stood with his arms crossed next to Dwalin. He always intimated you but approaching him alone to ask a favor made anxiety spike straight through you.

They were several feet away, but the clanging of metal was still quite loud. The brothers had removed their shirts, as men often did, to escape the insulated heat it provided. Not that you were complaining, eye candy is always welcome in a world of forests and furs.

You timidly approached the taller man as he instructed the brothers. You waited till they started fighting again to say in a shy voice: “Um Thorin?”

He glanced at you to acknowledge your inquisition, “Yes, what is it?” He sounded impatient.

“May I please borrow your sword?” You pointed to the weapon strapped to his side, “I need it to cut some thread” You tried not to sound as scared and skittish as you felt. He looked at you blankly for a moment, surprised by your question.

Kili threw his brother back several feet, allowing him a few seconds to turn to you with a confident smile.

“Hey Y/N,” Kili said, making you and Thorin look at him. You couldn’t help but smile and sheepishly blush as you tried not to ogle his ripped upper body dripping in sweat.

“Hi Kili” you swayed back and forth a little without realizing it. Thorin took note of your fond reaction to his nephew.

Fili let out a mighty roar as he jumped on the back of his brother, taking advantage of his distraction. The dwarves on the log laughed and you giggled at them as they goaded each other on.

“I’ve got you now brother!” Fili triumphantly exclaimed.

“I think not!” Kili replied with a strong thrusting attack.

Thorin sighed, “Very well” He untied his sheathed sword from his belt and handed it to you. You thanked him and began walking back to your previous spot. He looked at the line of dwarves who were still chuckling lightly against the log, “Make sure she doesn’t kill herself” he said to them. They all nodded, including Balin who found this ironic remembering their conversation about leaving you in Rivendell. It would seem the dwarf king was taking a liking to you.

You kneeled, unsheathed the great Goblin Cleaver a few inches, and positioned the hilt between your knees, so it stayed standing on its spine. You measured 7 lengths of thread at about three feet and rubbed them against the fine elfin blade which cut them in one pass to make makeshift embroidery thread. You repeated that 5 times to end up with two groups of pink, two groups of blue, and one group of black thread. You did your best to keep them separated as you bunched them together to fold them in half and tie a loop at the end that you could hook onto a button of your coat. You sheathed the sword and returned it to Thorin knowing he wouldn’t like being without his weapon. You sat on the side of the log with everyone else and secured your coat in your lap so you could pull taught against the threads. You separated the threads and began knotting them over and across each other like how you learned to make friendship bracelets at summer camp. It gave your hands something to do as you sat idly watching the boys trash talk then turn serious and start fighting again.

“What are ya makin’ Y/N?” Ori asked as he watched you.

“I’m making a bracelet” You replied, pleased to see the others taking an interest in your crafting.

“Why’s that lass?” Bifur leaned over to see what you were doing exactly.

“So I can eventually make one for everyone else” You explained how it’s a tradition of sorts in your world to make bracelets for those you care about as a show of kinship and the enduring strength of your friendship and bond. “Since I can’t fight beside you all on the battlefield yet, I thought this could be another way I show my commitment to the company” You smiled at the group. You’d grown very fond of them during your travels and hoped they enjoyed your company as much as you did theirs.

“That’s a very sweet tradition, Y/N,” Balin said, “We look forward to receiving your gifts” The rest of the dwarves confirmed it with ‘Aye’s and a strong nod of the head.

“Supper!” Bombur called while stirring the pot. Everyone got in line except the training group who was going one last round. You all sat down in your previous spots along the log to see the finale of the night’s training.

You finished your dinner quickly so you could take advantage of the distracted troublemakers as well as the river on the other side of the hill. You grabbed your bag and told Gandalf you were going to the river to wash up. You knew he’d keep an eye on the dwarf who often followed you like a puppy and missed you when you weren’t by his side.

You see, Kili had to share most of his things with his brother; toys, motherly attention, food, and this included the women he was interested in. They usually fell for Fili because he was more mature, older, and looked more dwarfish than Kili who had very fine features for a dwarf and was five years younger than his brother. He initially assumed it would happen again with you, so when you didn’t show any interest in his brother, only in him, he couldn’t put into words how happy it made him.

At the river’s edge, you placed your bag and makeshift towel (your shirt from your old world) on a rock and took off your clothes. The water was chilly but nothing a sit by the fire couldn’t fix. You washed your hair and body with the elfish soap you got in Rivendell. As you rinsed in the steady current of the water your thoughts began to wander to what Gandalf said about your predicament.

You felt pulled to Kili, he brought comfort and calmness to a feeling you didn’t even know was in need. His smile and his laugh, every memory and moment you made and shared with the handsome prince of Erebor begged you to stay in Middle Earth.

It was decided then.

When you stood to squeeze the water from your hair you noticed the sun was beginning to set. The others would want to bathe too, or at the very least wash their hands. You dried off and dressed and took a deep breath to enjoy the welcomed privacy one last time.

You reappeared beside the wizard, “Thank you, Gandalf, that was very much needed” You sat next to him on the ground in front of the fire to warm up. “I may be traveling with brutes, but I needn’t smell like one” You joked. He chuckled over his pipe at this.

“I’ve decided to stay here Gandalf.” You informed him. “Something about this place is calling me to stay.” You needn’t tell him about the intense pull to Kili, right?

“Splendid my dear,” He smiled fondly at your decision. “I’m sure you’ll find Middle earth rather agreeable.”

You smiled up at him, happy to have his support.

The boys were still going at it. Kili was making a great effort, but Fili got the upper hand, making Kili’s sword fly out of his hand and sail through the air to stick in the ground. Kili kept fighting though, trying to get Fili’s sword from him. Fili had to force him to the ground with his arms pinned before Kili surrendered.

“Good job lads, good work,” Thorin said as he helped them up. Coins were exchanged against the log from the bets the company members made. The boys started walking towards their bags, but Kili swerved at the last moment to approach you. Your hair was still slightly damp from the river, so it was obvious you’d just bathed. Being the mischievous sweaty dirt-covered mess he was, Kili held his arms out to you for a hug. You watched him in horror as he continued to walk towards you.

“Ew, no Kili stop!” You held your hand up to stop him but to no avail.

“Awe Y/N, just one hug?” Kili pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

You quickly stood and laugh a little at his persistence, “Don’t you fucking dare!” you said and dashed away.

“Come on Y/N, no need to play hard to get!” Kili strained as he chased you around the log and back toward your bags.

“Aaahh!” You made a sharp turn to narrowly avoid a grimy Fili, who stepped in your path, the little shit. This closed the gap so Kili could grab your arm and pull you toward him.

“Nonononononono!” you pleaded as he wrapped his beefy arms around your shoulders, making sure to rub his sweaty dirty face against your hair and pet the side of your face with his equally dirty hand. “Kili!” you drew out the last syllable in complaint.

“You smell so good” He had the nerve to say.

“You smell like Ori’s unwashed socks!” You pushed at his chest still trying to get away. Everyone chuckled at this. “Get off me, ya big olaf” you managed to wriggle out of his grasp, “I’m not coming anywhere near you till you bathe,” you said dead serious, and pointed to the river.

“As you wish” Kili bowed with a smirk, he grabbed his bag on his way to the river to join his brother. You sat in your by the fire with a small smile that seemed permanent whenever you were around him.

You were working on your bracelet when the brothers returned. The sun had dipped below the horizon making darkness seep into the crevasses of the world. Kili sat behind you on the same long stone Gandalf was perched on and touched the ends of your miraculously dry hair (the elvish soap is magic idk). You stiffened at the unexpected but not necessarily unwelcome contact.

“Can I braid your hair Y/N?” he asked innocently as pink dusted his cheeks. You whipped around aggressively, pulling your hair out of his hand in the process.

“No cause you’re just going to get it all tangled and I’m going to have to spend all night brushing it out!” You weren’t looking forward to that, you thought he was just trying to prank you. Kili’s pout was as cute as ever.

“My dear,” Gandalf budded in before Kili could sulk away, “Braiding hair in dwarfish culture is similar to your tradition of making bracelets for friends, but they take it much more seriously.”

“How much more seriously?” You asked, intrigued about the nature of Kili proposition.

“It’s like…” The wizard took a draw from his pipe while he thought of the words to properly explain it to you, “asking someone to dance, it’s special and a more intimate way of getting to know someone.”

“So, like a date?” You tilted your head in question. You understood his analogy; braiding allows both people to show their level of craftsmanship and commitment, with the added benefit of practicality and looking very nice in the end when done with love and care.

“A bit” Gandalf smiled at your naiveite, “Just know our dear Kili is not trying to prank you when he asks to braid your hair, quite the opposite” He took another draw from his pipe and looked back at the fire.

“In that case, you may braid my hair Kee” You flipped your hair back over your shoulder. You couldn’t see the beaming smile that grew on his handsome face. You dug through your bag to find the hairbrush and other trinkets from Rivendell which you handed to Kili. He kept them in his lap while he brushed your hair. If he came across a knot, he was sure to be incredibly gentle. You enjoyed the physical contact and attention very much.

“Any requests?” He asked sounding confident in his abilities.

“Whatever you think would look best” You couldn’t help but smile a little.

He used your brush to part your hair down the middle. He started braiding at your nape closest to the part. After that you didn’t pay very much attention to what he was doing, instead just relished the experience.

He finished one side and secured it with a bead from your stash, “How’s that feel, too tight?”, he asked and adjusted pieces here and there to make it lay perfectly.

“It feels great!” You chirped happily. You reached a hand to feel what he’d done so far but he shooed it away.

“Not yet, you’ll ruin the surprise!” He started working on the other side.

By the time he was done, you were so relaxed you’d almost fallen asleep on his leg.

“Done!” he said, you could tell he was very pleased with his work, “How do you like it?” He sounded a bit nervous.

You ran your fingers over the braids, feeling how they turned and curved at certain points and went straight in others.

“Kili this is amazing!” You said, very happy with the state of your hair. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you!” You looked back at him with a smile that was as big as his.

“I’m afraid I can't properly reciprocate though, I don’t know how to braid hair like this, I can only do normal braids.” You regretted never having learned how to French braid now more than ever. “If that’s how this works” You quickly corrected in a slight panic.

He was elated you wanted to return his deed at all, “That’s fine!” He tried not to sound too excited and be cool about it, “I can teach you if you want” he offered.

“I’d appreciate that!” You smiled.

You switched places, so he was sitting between your legs facing the fire. The position was innocent, but his thoughts were anything but. Images of your face beautifully contorted in pleasure from his tongue exploring your most private and intimate parts were most welcomed.

“May I take this out?” you lightly touched the silver clip that held his hair out of his face.

“Sure” He happily shrugged. You dug through his brown hair where the clasp was supposed to be, but your trembling hands couldn’t find it in all his hair.

After he heard you huffing and puffing and hadn’t felt his hair fall from the clip he asked in a soft voice, “Do you need help?”

“Yes,” you sighed, embarrassed you couldn’t even get a damn clip undone. He reached back, and struggled for a few seconds but undid the clasp, and handed it to you.

While you brushed his hair you thought of what you should do to it, or more what you could do with his hair given your limited abilities. You brushed through a few knots if any.

“I think I know what I want to try to do,” You touched the sides of his head just above his temple, “I want to do two small braids on the sides of your head, but I want the topmost part of your hair not to be braided.”

“Let’s try it!” He explained how you needed to part the hair and how to get started. You had his head lying against your thigh in an admittedly awkward and uncomfortable position, but he was quite the trooper. You had to restart the first braid three times but, in the end, he talked you through it and you tied it off with a bead.

“How did you learn to braid so well” you asked, struggling to grip all the pieces of the second braid properly and not pull the strands out of his head.

“My mother was insistent I learned. She knew my brother would have no trouble learning this facet of courting, but she feared I would spend all my time shooting arrows and never learn how to properly court girls.” He talked fondly of the memories, “So one summer when I was about to come of age, I came home from running amuck every day and she’d sit me down at her tapestry’s and make me braid the tassels that ran around the border.”

“Were you any good?” You asked curiously.

“Oh yes, I was very good! For a while, I was even better than Fili!” He was very proud of that.

“Why did he get better than you? Lean forward please,” you politely asked.

“He’s quite the lady’s man, so he had plenty of girls to practice on,” Kili sounded like that brought up memories that weren’t very pleasant. You finished the second braid with a bead like the first.

“Lay your head down for me again” You softly asked, gingerly guiding his head to lay against your other thigh, “Awe, baby Kili didn’t get any coochie did he” You fake pouted to tease him, gently scratching his scalp absentmindedly while you rested your neck for a moment. He liked it, more than he’d care to admit. “I’m in the same boat I’m afraid” You parted the other side of his hair.

“Oh? How so?” He was very surprised by this, “I’d have thought men were practically throwing themselves at you.” This made you laugh and blush.

“I’m awfully flattered you think that highly of me…” You took a moment to focus on a particularly difficult part, “But men from my world didn’t talk to me.”

“I find that completely unbelievable.” He was floored by this.

“I’m serious! I was never asked out on a date and the few times I asked for someone’s number they turned out to be self-centered losers with a ton of issues” You hated how much time you’d wasted on them. He couldn’t wrap his head around that and had to hold his tongue from proclaiming his thoughts of your perfection.

He turned to look at you despite your protests, “Then they are truly blind,” He couldn’t have been more sincere. His eyes blazed in the firelight with a mix of ferocity and sadness on your behalf.

“Thank you, Kee,” You smiled at him. He assumed his previous position so you could end the braid with a bead like the two before and then started on the last one, “And those silly girls are truly blind as well.” You wanted to kiss his slightly flushed cheek.

You were both in your own little world, where the troubles of the outside couldn’t get to you…or the onlookers and peanut gallery for that matter. Gandalf had moved to sit with the company who had been watching from across the fire on the other side of the log since Kili finished your first braid. They couldn’t quite hear your conversation, but they knew their beloved Kili was having the time of his life.

Fili was very proud of his brother. He talked about you all the time, was looking at you all the time; the man was whipped. Fili had to hear about you the entire time he was bathing, poor thing, and he finally got fed up with his brother not making a move.

“Kili, just ask to braid her hair for god’s sake” Fili huffed while he waited for his brother to finish in the river. Kili’s eyes lit up like a forge with the breath from bellows, and his face flushed like he did when he hammered out a new blade.

“I think I will,” Kili nodded, distracted by thoughts of engaging in such an informal and somewhat intimate act.

Thorin was very pleased you were trying to repay his nephew’s advances in equal measure. He’d seen the poor boy flounder with crushes in the past as he tended to be immature, and girls mistook that for uncaring and unable to provide. Something about you brought out the best in his nephew though, he’d never seen him act so mature, for this Thorin was willing to stay some of his distrust and pessimistic opinions about outsiders, at the very least about you.

By the time you finished the last braid, Kili had made himself very comfortable against your leg, with his arm wrapped around your calf, fidgeting with the laces of your boot. He looked so tranquil you hesitated to tell him you’d finished, not ready to leave the sanctuary you were in. You leaned back against your hand while you stared into the fire and gently scratched the nape of his neck.

He hummed half asleep, “Mmm that feels good,” His words were a little slurred, but it made him all the cuter.

You stayed like that till your bottom began to protest the hard rock beneath you. He was right on the cusp of sleep when you shook your leg beneath him, gentle with guilt.

“Kili, I gotta get up,” You softly tried to rouse him. He hummed in protest. “Besides, don’t you want to know how the braids turned out?” You admired your work with pride.

He sat up and stretched to wake his muscles then ran a hand over his new braids, “Wow Y/N! These are so good!” He looked back at you impressed, “You picked up on that fast!”

“Thanks, Kee!” You blushed as you ran a hand over the intricate lines in your hair, “They aren’t half as good as yours, but I think I did great for my first time” You smiled, pleased with yourself.

“Come show us!” someone from the log called, followed by various iterations of the same thing from others. Ever supportive, they were eager to see what you’d both made.

Kili stood and you followed him to the log. You turned so he could show off his creation. The dwarves were very impressed, a few coming up to inspect closer. When Kili turned to show your work, the company was even more impressed given it was your first time.

“Next time you’ll have to make beads for her, Kee” Fili teased making him and Bofur laugh at how Kili blushed.

“Make beads? What does that mean?” You asked the group in confusion.

“You’ll understand when the time comes,” Thorin said in an uncharacteristically happy tone. “For now, we shall rest” With that everyone began prepping their bedding for the night.

You laid your bed roll beside Kili’s like usual, but Bombur reminded you to clean the dishes before they were put away. Gandalf accompanied you so you could see with the light of his staff. Everyone was asleep when you returned to camp, except Thorin who was on watch.

When you sat on your bedroll, which was naturally next to Kili’s, he looked up at you, barely awake with a dopey smile.

“You look so pretty,” he said quietly, drawing out the last syllable of pretty. Red bloomed over your cheeks and down your neck. He loved your hair like that, he loved it even more that he was the one who did it.

“Go to sleep, Kee,” You whispered so you didn’t wake the others, but couldn’t help but smile as you lay on your bedroll next to him.

“But then I can’t look at you” He pouted, quite distraught about this revelation in his sleepy daze.

“Well, no, I suppose you can’t…” You nibbled your bottom lip as you thought of a solution, “Would holding hands appease you, sleepy prince?” you asked and held out the hand that wasn’t cuddling your coat to your chest. He was too out of it to catch your nickname for him. He nodded and held your hand in his, making both your hearts beat just a little faster.

You closed your eyes and rubbed your face against your coat to find a comfortable position. You could feel his eyes on you.

You opened your eyes to see him staring directly at you, “Good night, Kili” you said in a strong nonnegotiable tone.

He hummed and smiled and closed his eyes, “Good night, Y/N.”

~~~

Kili felt your hand grow tighter around his, drawing him from sleep. Then he felt you pulling against it like you were trying to alert him to danger in the camp without making a sound. He opened his eyes ready for war and saw no danger. He looked at you confused but realized you weren’t awake. You were whimpering and mumbling as your head thrashed from side to side.

‘She’s having a nightmare’ he quickly thought. He squeezed your hand and gently shook it.

“Y/N” He tried not to let his worry raise the volume of his voice, “Wake up.”

You didn’t respond, your mumbles turned into clear pleas for help, making him fret even more.

“Y/N!” He shook your shoulder vehemently, “You need to wake up” He had an urgency in his voice. You feebly fought against his hold on your shoulder.

“Please!” you gasped, still breaking from the nightmare when you opened your eyes, “No, please let go!” You begged and continued to push against his hand with tears in your eyes, not knowing who he was while sleep still clouded your vision and mind.

“Y/N, Y/N look at me” he moved his hand from your shoulder to the side of your neck and cheek to call your attention to him, “It was just a dream, you’re safe now.” When you met his eyes, he recognized just how rattled you were.

You were breathing rapidly, and tears were making your eyelashes sparkle in the firelight. He could feel your rapid heartbeat where his hand laid over your pulse point. He could tell you were beginning to wake up because you softly uttered his name and the hand that was fighting his on your neck gently wrapped around his wrist.

“You’re safe, I promise,” His eyebrows were pinched together in worry. You nodded and took a deep breath to try to keep the tears away. It’d been a very long time since you’d had a nightmare that bad.

Kili pulled your bedroll closer to his, “Come here,” He gave you a hug to comfort you, “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked when you pulled back from the hug too look at him. You laid your head on his upper arm and kept your cuddle coat close to your chest.

“I-I was in a forest at night and there were goblins and orcs and Wargs coming to attack me and-” You were talking quickly, the bad dream still too real, “and I was all alone and I couldn’t defend myself…” You trailed off, the waver in your voice making it hard to talk. “I was so scared, Kili,” You tried to curl into yourself.

“Hey hey hey, look at me” He held the side of your face again, “You’re safe,” he said. You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d never let anything happen to you, aye?” He promoted you to get you out of your head. You took another deep breath and nodded.

“I’m ok” you repeated “I’m ok.”

“Yes, there ya go!” He nodded, relieved you were coming around. His thumb swept over your cheek to wipe a tear. You took a few minutes to calm down. Kili was falling asleep, but he needed to know you were going to be ok.

“Thank you, Kee,” you said, your whispered voice no longer shaking with fear, he gave a hearty nod in reply before he yawned. His arm was going numb where your head was lying on it, but it was worth it when you rubbed your face against it to get comfortable as you did in that way, which he found utterly adorable. You appreciated the physical comfort you would have never had in your world.

“I’ll teach you how to fight tomorrow” he whispered over a yawn, his eyelids getting heavy again. He moved his hand from your neck to hang over your waist. He wanted to pull you into him, so you’d feel protected on all sides, not for any other selfish deeply personal reasons of course, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“I’d like that very much,” you smiled and watched as he fell back asleep, not snoring but breathing heavily in that way which you found so adorable. You felt safe with his hand on your waist and fell asleep not long after him with thoughts of training together dancing behind your eyes.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Taglist: @letmelickyoureyeballs

[mikathemonster]

calling all fíli and kíli writers!

author's note: that's right, I'm talking to you little rats. I'm doing a kinktober! wow, who would've thought. I encourage all writers for the dwarven brothers to join me as we repopulate this hellsite with some spicy fíli and kíli fanfics (because we all know there's barely any). to the bingo card!

for each request I get using this card, another dwarven fanfic plagues this site for all to read and absorb. let's get into it!