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the-really-lonely-mountain · 4 months

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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

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nostalgicnarrator · 12 days

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Over Hill and Under Mountain

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Word Count: 5,243 Parings: Thorn X Bilbo Description: Bilbo is fed up.

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

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─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

Mild mentions of physical violence.

Note:

this is it, we've come to this stories end, i hope everyone who has stuck it out this long love this story as much as i have loved writing it. good day, afternoon and night

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Bilbo was vaguely aware as he drifted in and out of consciousness, a tone of voice or a few words would make it to him in the void he was stuck in.

His mind felt like it was floating in mud as it throbbed in pain. He hadn’t been sure how long he had been like that.

He had dreams, or was it memories? He couldn’t tell anymore, they were all blurred together, strange fragments of what once was or had never been.

He opened his eyes in the shadows of Mirkwood, he stumbled a bit as he walked along with his friends. The trees loomed, their twisted limbs stretching out like skeletal hands, clawing at the air as if to snatch any who dared trespass.

A thick mist curled around the underbrush, muffling the sound of crunching leaves. The world was cast in an unsettling twilight, where everything seemed to move in the corner of his vision but disappeared when he tried to focus on it.

He looked around, he felt sluggish as he looked at Dwalin, Nori, Fili, Kili, and Thorin. his friends. Right, he had been with them hadn’t he? They had all marched together once, but that was a time ago by now was it not…?

Bilbo looked around again attempting to make sense, his friends had their blades drawn, each held a grim face. He felt like something was wrong. He hadn’t been here like this, where was he…?

He was suddenly aware of the unnatural silence that clung to the forest, suffocating. And then, they struck.

Out of the trees, from above and below, the spiders came. Massive creatures, larger than horses, with blackened bodies and legs as thick as a man's arm.

Their eyes held a hunger Bilbo did not remember from before, they seemed darker than before, their fangs dripping deadly venom, Bilbo was acutely aware that these terrors were not the same as the spiders he had faced before.

The air was thick with the sound of limbs rustling through lives, the crackling sound of skittering feet, an orchestra of death as they descended upon them.

Before they could react, one of the beasts lunged for Dwalin. The dwarf swung his war hammer hard, splattering the spider they came at him all over the ground. But there were too many.

Another came from the side, pincers snapping, and dug its fangs into the dwarf and wrapped him in its sticky webbing with terrifying speed.

He struggled, but not for long as the venom quickly kicked in and the last Bilbo heard of the dwarf was a roar of fury, Bilbo watched as Dwalin was quickly hoisted into the air, bound in silken threads.

The others shouted, Bilbo whipped his head back to them, he watched as they hacked and slashing at the swarm that was descending on them.

Bilbo watched as Nori managed to dodge the initial attacks, his knives flashing as he severed the limbs of one spider after another. But soon he, too, was overwhelmed.

Bilbo tried to shout to warn his friend as a shadow loomed over him, and before Nori could react, he was bitten and wrapped in webbing and dragged screaming into the branches above.

Bilbo covered his mouth when the scream was stopped far too abruptly. Fili and Kili were next, Bilbo watched as they fought together, Fíli twirled his twin blades as he brother notched arrows drew back and released.

Fíli cut through the legs of one of the largest spiders. But they couldn’t keep the pace, soon Kíli released his last arrow and Fíli lost a sword.

Before they had a chance, webs tangled them up. Kíli called out to his brother desperately, he begged for help. But it wasn’t long before they were bitten and dragged away into the shadows.

And then came the whispering.

The voices slithered through the trees, a sickening melody that wormed its way into Bilbo’s ears. "Tasty, delicious... so tender..." The spiders were speaking, their voices like poison seeping into his mind.

Thorin was last. His sword was cast aside as it had fallen to the ground, Bilbo’s eyes felt wide as he watched Thorin stare up at the towering spiders as they descended. He could see it clearly now-Thorin's face, twisted in horror as the creatures bore down on him.

Bilbo couldn't move, he couldn't speak. It was as if his body had betrayed him, leaving him frozen in place, forced to watch. He could hear the cracking of bones, the wet squelch of flesh torn apart.

The largest of the spiders opened its jaws, revealing rows of jagged teeth, Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut. He let out a whimper. He could still hear the horrible noise. Then it fell silent and Bilbo dared a peek.

Before he could really see anything the world around him began to fall away, the forest of Mirkwood bled into something else. Soon enough Bilbo found himself standing in a deep valley, a familiar mountain range not far ahead now, this was a place he was sure he recognized.

His mind told him that it was all too familiar. The wind suddenly whipped viciously around him, carrying with it a horrible smell. He whipped his head around as he heard the snarls of wargs and the harsh, guttural speech of orcs.

The enemy came like a wave, crashing over the horizon with a force that shook the ground. Wargs with their fur matted mounted by orcs with gnarled faces, Bilbo was sure the reek of blood came from them.

The group, who just moments ago had been caught in Mirkwood, wrapped up in a hellish web, were now surrounded, barely able to react. Dwalin swung his axes, Nori darted around as well as he could manage, and Fíli and Kíli fought side by side. But there were too many-too fast.

When Thorin fell the rest followed just as quickly, Bilbo barely registered the screams, the flash of steel, and the bodies hitting the ground. It all blurred together horribly. His eyes darted from one friend to another, each of them falling, each death a punch to his gut. He could feel the panic rising, choking him as he was once again forced to watch. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly

Once more the world fell silent and Bilbo opened his eyes after a moment, but before he could make anything out his vision blurring, he squeezed his eyes shut again as dizziness began to take over.

He felt himself begin to fall so he snapped his eye open and gasped, it was becoming difficult to breathe. He looked around afraid of what horror waited

Snow fell heavily around him, it whipped and clawed at him, quickly the snow turned a blinding white that made it impossible to see more than a few paces ahead.

They were on the narrow path of a cliffside, their steps precarious as the wind threatened to knock them off balance. Bilbo began to wish he had a coat. Something warm to hide from the wind with.

Bilbo watched as Thorin led the way, his eyes set forward, determined. The look was etched into every line of the dwarfs face. Bilbo trudged not too far behind him, then Thorin’s boot slipped, and in an instant, Thorin was gone.

He could hear Kíli and Fíli scream, the sound piercing through the storm. They rushed to the edge, reaching out, Bilbo watched as Thorin tumbled down, down into the abyss below.

Kíli let out a broken sob as he watched his uncle disappear. Thorin’s body twisted in the air, his arms flailing as he tried to grab onto something, anything, but there was nothing to grab. The dwarf disappeared into the blinding depths below

The group stood frozen, helpless, as Thorin disappeared into the darkness. No sound followed his fall. Just silence. Then it all faded away.

Next he remembered inky darkness, the eerie silence. He vaguely wondered when he got there. Sometimes Bilbo would see large pale eyes watching him from the shadows of his mind, sometimes he would hear the music and whisper again.

It was as if Something was calling out to him, beckoning him. It wanted him to go somewhere. He wanted to follow it, but then he would hear a deeper voice telling him he can’t just yet.

So he would stay. Bilbo wasn’t sure why the voice didn’t want him to fallow the other but he listened. The music he once heard slowly became less and less and instead he could hear a different tone.

A soft voice would sing in rolling sounds, sounds he came to hear under his feet when in the shire. He remembered them from when he was a child.

The voice was of a woman, her tone was warm and caring. It reminded him of his mother, of a warm place and a soft bed. Of the love of the shire.

Eventually when Bilbo came to, the first thing he could understand in his fevered daze was the sound of arguing. Voices, not singing or humming, normal voices, reached him, distant at first, but growing louder, pulling him from the depths of his sleep.

One painfully familiar, a deep, tone that sent a wave of warmth coursing through him like warm tea on a cold day. Bilbo felt his heart leap. He knew that voice.

“Th…Thorin…?” Bilbo croaked, his voice barely a whisper. He tried to lift his hand, reaching out for something, anything. The arguing stopped abruptly, replaced by a heavy silence.

“Thorin…?” He asked again-

“I’m here, Bilbo, I’m right here,” Thorin’s voice broke the stillness. Bilbo felt his hand being taken in a firm tender grip and the warmth of Thorin’s calloused palm.

“Thorin… you made it,” Bilbo murmured, his lips curving into what he hoped was a smile. “I was worried… you wouldn’t.” His voice was softer than he meant, causing Thorin to lean in closer.

Thorin squeezed his hand gently. “We’re here, and we’re all safe,” he assured, his tone soothing. “You’ve nothing to worry about now.”

Despite the pain, Bilbo felt a wave of relief wash over him at Thorin’s words. He could hear more mumbling, but the words were indistinct, blurred by the haze that clouded his mind.

Whatever was said, had Thorin nodding gently, though his eyes never left Bilbo’s face. Bilbo found he couldn’t look away ether.

“You need to sleep, Bilbo,” Thorin urged softly. “Rest now, and I’ll be here when you wake.”

Bilbo’s eyes fluttered, his body fighting against the pull of exhaustion. “Promise… you’ll stay?” he whispered, his grip tightening slightly on Thorin’s hand.

“I promise,” Thorin replied, his voice a low, comforting rumble. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With those words, a calm settled over Bilbo, and he allowed himself to relax, slipping into a dreamless sleep, comforted by the knowledge that Thorin would be there when he woke.

The next time he woke up, it was to the soft light of dawn as it filtered through his room. His eyelids fluttered open, still heavy from sleep, and he blinked a few times before his eyes settled on a figure sitting on the floor beside his bed.

Thorin was there in the room, an elbow resting on the bed, his face softly framed by the golden morning light. Thorin looked out of the window. Bilbo shifted a bit to get a better look at the dwarf.

Thorn turned to him and smiled, Bilbo stayed quiet as he looked over Thorin's face. Despite the darkish bags under the kings eyes the gold of the rising sun made his eyes gleam ‘He looks handsome like that’ his mind supplied to him and he couldn’t help but agree

“How do you feel…?” Thorin eventually asked, breaking the silence.

And Bilbo’s heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the dwarfs' voice, his face suddenly felt very warm. ‘Answer! Answer him you fool of a Took’ Bilbo blinked blearily.

Thorin kept waiting patiently for an answer, he had turned to face him now, Thorin’s rough hand took Bilbo’s gently. Thorin let his thumb trace over Bilbo’s knuckles.

He watched Throin’s hand for a moment before turning back to looking at him, “…alright… I-…you’re pretty…” Bilbo felt himself say. ‘No! Don’t say that! Stupid’ his mind yelled at him

Thorin looked up at him then chuckled, the sound low and genuine as a smile broke across his features. Bilbo felt his face get even hotter.

Thorin had to take a few moments before he was calm enough to answer. “Oh, thank you Bilbo, why don’t you go back to sleep?

Bilbo blinked and whined, “no, I wanna be with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promised I’d stay. Okay?” And when Thorin smiled a little more Bilbo felt himself try to melt.

Bilbo couldn’t help but nod, his gaze remained fixed on Thorin even when Óin entered the room. Thorin turned to quietly talk to him. Bilbo turned to watch the healer for a moment as he moved around the room, and busied himself with preparing herbs.

Bilbo decided that he was boring so his gaze drifted to Thorin again, watching the dwarf as if afraid he might vanish the moment he looked away.

The days started to pass, as slowly as Bilbo had expected them to. At first it was a hazy mess of thoughts and watching his dwarf. Thorin stayed true, he never strayed far from Bilbo’s side.

It had been a few days by the time Bilbo found himself lying in bed, watching Thorin, it was strange, almost like waking up but never sleeping. He wasn’t sure how long it had been.

He watched as Thorin sat near him, his mind wondered after a moment, drifting and settling somewhere he couldn’t quite name. He couldn’t place it; he was sure it had one.

It was something that Bilbo hadn’t always felt, but he had come to know it after he met Thorin. something that made Bilbo’s heart feel lighter even on the most difficult of days.

He didn’t understand it, he couldn’t. But it was always there when Thorin was nearby, and as he got to know the dwarf the loneliness he had once wished for seemed less appealing.

There was something about Thorin that calmed the constant buzzing. Bilbo hesitantly extended his hand. Thorin didn’t hesitate, when he noticed, his hand reached out immediately and took Bilbo’s.

Soon Bilbo found himself looking forward to every opportunity he had to see Thorin. The dwarf would bring him tea and sit with him for hours. Or on the rare occasion they would talk and on the less rare occasion he’d just sit quietly and hold Bilbo’s hand.

Bilbo also found himself huffing in annoyance when Óin eventually had to shoo Thorin away and make Bilbo rest. Thorin’s presence became as vital as the sunlight filtering into the room.

And as Bilbo got better, Thorin’s visits grew longer, the dwarf staying until the stars curiously peaked through the trees. Bilbo often found himself smiling more easily, his heart feeling lighter each day.

Óin would, each and every morning, check Bilbo’s wounds. He would often shake his head with a frown that almost bordered on disbelief.

Óin shook his head and sighed again. “By all accounts this doesn't make sense. A recovery this quick… by rights, it should’ve taken months, not weeks.”

Gandalf, who had been watching from the doorway, spoke. “Indeed you are right my dear Óin. It’s been many years since I’ve witnessed such a thing.” Gandalf stroked his beard thoughtfully, his eyes twinkling with a familiar knowing gleam.

“Is your magic doing this then?” Óin asked, “honestly Gandalf I would like to know when you-”

“No no, nothing like that Óin, I could not help with these injuries more than I have. There are few forces in this world stronger than myself, except, maybe, perhaps,” But Gandalf didn’t finish; he mumbled to himself, nodded and walked away. ÓIn sighed and began changing Bilbo’s bandages.

“Wizard’s” the healer said and Bilbo nodded.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped behind the trees, casting a soft golden light into the room, Bilbo glanced over at Thorin. The dwarf sat comfortably in a chair, pipe smoke curling lazily around him.

Bilbo watched as Thorin absentmindedly fidgeted with the silver ring on his finger, his brow furrowed in thought. The sight of him, calm, steady, it made Bilbo feel something strange, something warm. It made him feel safe.

Bilbo had been told that he should stay in bed. Óin had been quite stern about it. To the point where the dwarf had rules, No sitting up too long, no wandering, and absolutely no trips outside or anywhere, not even to the balcony. It was maddening.

Bilbo could feel his restless energy building up inside him like a storm. He longed for the open air, to feel the breeze on his face, to see Rivendell’s beauty firsthand. But most of all, he just wanted to do something. Anything.

Then, an idea struck him.

“Thorin…?” Bilbo asked, turning his gaze to the dwarf. He hadn’t meant to speak so suddenly, and he was surprised to find Thorin’s eyes already on him.

Thorin hummed in response, his deep blue eyes caught Bilbo’s and for a moment he couldn’t help but stare, Thorin’s eyes were deep and blue, but Bilbo felt that comparing them to water or the sky would cheat them of how beautiful they really were.

Bilbo was suddenly sure he was silent for too long as Thorin’s expression shifted to concern. “Bilbo? Are you alright…?”

“YES! Of course, yes!” Bilbo said, perhaps a bit too quickly. He cleared his throat and smiled. “I mean, yes, I’m fine. I just… Well, will you do something for me?”

Bilbo felt his breath leave him as Thorin’s expression softened, and for a moment Bilbo felt his question disappear from him.

“Always.” Thorin said, smiling. Bilbo had to look away for a moment. His face heated up as his mind began racing. ‘What in vala’s name is wrong with you’ Bilbo looked back at Thorin as he kept talking. “What do you need? Are you hungry, or-“

“No, no, I’m alright for now,” Bilbo quickly interrupted. He offered a smile to Thorin. Bilbo could still feel his heart thumping wildly in his rib cage.

Thorin tilted his head a bit and put his pipe away quickly. “Then what is it? What’s wrong?” Concerned began to take Thorin’s face.

“Nothing! I’m okay! Just… Could you read to me?” Bilbo asked quietly.

Thorin blinked once, the again. Bilbo could tell he was clearly taken aback. “Read… to you? You want me to read to you?”

“Yes! If, if it is not too much trouble,” Bilbo replied, hoping he didn’t sound foolish. He surely felt a bit foolish asking, he felt a bit childish too. But the need for some form of distraction soon waved that feeling away.

Thorin furrowed his brow, a flicker of doubt passing through his eyes. “Bilbo, I haven't read-I don’t think I’ll be very good at it.”

And Bilbo felt himself deflate a bit at that, but he wasn’t going to give up here. “Oh, come now Thorin! I’m sure you’re a wonderful storyteller.”

Throin took a deep breath and looked outside to the balcony of Bilbo’s room. “I don’t know, Bilbo-“

“Please?” Bilbo pushed himself up some and flinched a little, Bilbo fought a grin as his plan worked, Thorin immediately got up and pushed him back down gently. Bilbo grabbed his hand and kept it on his chest.

“…I’m terribly bored Thorin, as much as I love youuu-‘re company, if I don’t do something soon, I’m going to go mad!” Blibo looked up with as pleading a look as he could manage, he hoped it looked pitiful enough to work. “I would read them myself but Óin nearly had a fit the last time I tried.”

Thorin gave a long-suffering sigh, and Bilbo grinned at him as he walked over to the small pile. “Alright, alright. Just one chapter.”

Thorin reached for one of the books that had been left on the bedside table, flipping it open, he flipped a few pages and scanned the words for a moment before he began to read for Bilbo.

Thorin’s voice was deep and steady, it was clear and strong yet soothing, Bilbo struggled to pay attention to the words that Thorin was saying.

Bilbo’s eyelids began to grow heavy. The warmth of Thorin’s presence, the sound of his voice, was almost too much. It wrapped around Bilbo like a blanket, soft and reassuring.

Before long, Bilbo’s eyes fluttered shut, and he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Bilbo could feel something simmering between him and Thorin as the days went, something that had been there for some time. He hadn’t been sure if the name he wanted to call it was true

But now Bilbo was sure, It was love. Simple, undeniable love.

He felt it whenever Thorin looked at him. He was sure of how his heart would flutter and speed up. The way his breath caught in his throat, the way he had to fight the blush that crept up his neck.

Then, Bilbo wasn’t so sure anymore.

Thorin’s visits became less frequent and at first it was small things; Thorin sitting farther away, the conversations growing shorter or stopping abruptly.

Bilbo really did try not to dwell on it. Thorin was, after all, a king. And being so far from his kingdom was sure to make him busy.

The days began to drag on again, Bilbo couldn’t help but notice the distance anymore. And when Bilbo had to remind himself of this over and over, to try and convince himself that it wasn’t anything personal. Thorin was simply busy.

It began to feel like a lie, Thorin was in Rivendell, halfway across the map and a storm had apparently taken to settling over the Misty’s, that no raven would want to fly through.

So what could he possibly be doing? And why was it taking so long? Why did it feel as though Thorin was slipping through his fingers? Then there was the avoidance!

If Bilbo could manage to slip away from Óin long enough to find Thorin the dwarf would basically run away from him, disappearing in some cases.

So Bilbo decided to try to distract himself, focusing on anything else. Bilbo had begun to spend more time with Dwalin, Fíli, Kíli, and Nori. But it felt like people were hiding things from him again. Keeping secrets. He decided to test his theory.

“Where’s Thorin today?” Bilbo asked one afternoon, trying to sound casual as Fíli, Kíli and himself were playing a game of cards.

Fíli glanced at his brother before shrugging. “Busy with… things, I imagine.”

“What kind of things?” Bilbo muttered, frowning as he looked up from his cards. That was the same answer Dwalin and Nori had given him the day before.

Kíli looked to his brother and they both looked a little uncomfortable as Bilbo watched them. “Uh…wouldn’t know. I believe it’s your turn Bilbo.” Kíli said and offered a fake smile.

It most certainly was not. Bilbo tisked and nodded.

Another time, Óin had come to check on him, the healer was still prodding Bilbo’s bandages, “You’re healing fine, lad. I’d say you can take all the stitches out soon.”

Bilbo nodded, he tried to be subtle as he asked. “Do you know what Thorin is up to, have you seen him?”

Óin didn’t look up from his work. “Oh, …I’m sure he’s around lad.” was all he said.

Frustration began to claw at Bilbo’s insides. Later that day Bilbo caught Gandalf. He wasn’t meant to be up but his patience was nonexistent at this point. “Gandalf, do you know what Thorin is doing?.”

Gandalf looked at him, his face frustratingly neutral. “I’m sure Thorin is occupied with important matters, Bilbo.”

“Important my left foot! What is so important for him to ignore me,” Bilbo pressed, he threw his hands up in frustration. “He hasn’t visited at all! Runs away at any attempt I make to talk to him!”

Gandalf’s gaze softened. “Give him time, my dear boy. Thorin will come around and tell you in his own time.” With that, the wizard walked away, leaving Bilbo feeling more frustrated than ever.

Days turned into weeks, and Bilbo’s frustration simmered, his thoughts circling endlessly around one question: Why? Why was Thorin avoiding him? What had he done wrong?

He replayed their conversations over and over in his head, searching for some clue, some indication of what had gone wrong, but found nothing.

That’s when he felt something snap, weeks of worn patience. The excuses about “kingly duties” didn’t add up, ‘we are in Rivendell. What kind of kingly tasks could Thorin possibly be doing’

He had had enough.

Ignoring Óin’s warnings to take it easy once again, Bilbo threw off his blanket and on his cloak then marched out of his room, a determined fire lit inside his stomach. His injuries be damned, he needed answers.

The sunlight was filtering through the trees of Rivendell, casting soft patterns of gold across the path, but Bilbo did not pay it mind. His attention was fixed solely on the figure he spotted in the distance.

Thorin was there, standing in the gardens, he seemed to be speaking with a raven, one Bilbo hadn’t seen before. It was much bigger than Hugin was, Bilbo vaguely wondered if Raven‘s really could get through the storm that settled over the mountains.

That thought was swiftly pushed away. As if sensing Bilbo, Thorin’s head jerked up, and for a split second, panic flickered in the king’s eyes. He turned to leave but Bilbo would not let him.

“Thorin—THORIN OAKENSHIELD, DON'T YOU DARE RUN AWAY FROM ME!” Bilbo’s voice rang out, clear and sharp, startling the birds from the trees and causing a few passing Elves to pause before quickly averting their eyes.

Thorin froze mid-step, his broad shoulders tensing. Slowly, he turned back to face Bilbo. The raven on his arm tilted its head side to side as Bilbo came closer.

“Bilbo,” Thorin began, his voice low, almost apologetic.

But Bilbo wasn’t in the mood, and he really couldn’t stop himself from snapping at the dwarf. “No,” Bilbo said as he stopped not too far away. “Don’t you ‘Bilbo’ me. You’ve been avoiding me for days, Thorin! And no one will tell me why, at least not the truth! I’ve done nothing wrong- at least, I don’t think I have!” His voice wavered, the frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface.

Thorin opened his mouth as if to respond, but Bilbo wasn’t finished.

“I don’t understand!” Bilbo’s fists clenched at his sides. He threw his hands up and began pacing back and forth. “You came all the way here, risked everything to make sure I was alright. And then what? You disappear? Is that it? Was it just some sort of duty to you, Thorin? A box to tick before you move on to whatever ‘kingly duties’ you’ve been so conveniently busy with?” He scoffed, he turned to face Thorin. He pointed to him aggressively. “We’re in Rivendell! There’s no kingdom here for you to rule!”

The accusation hung in the air like a blade between them. Thorin’s face, for a moment, stirred with a thousand different emotions, but it landed on anger.

Thorin’s brow furrowed and he lifted his arm up dismissing the raven. “Bilbo, it’s not—”

“Then why are you ignoring me?” Bilbo pressed, he couldn’t feel his frustration boiling over inside him. “What have I done? I don’t understand! I’m sorry if I’ve upset you!”

Thorin raised a hand as if to placate him or tell him to stop talking. “You have not-I’m not upset, Bilbo-”

“THEN WHAT?” Bilbo shouted, his voice cracking. “Tell me!”

“If you would let me-!” Thorin growled out angrily.

“NO! No! No more excuses, no more lies!” He had reached Thorin now, standing right in front of him, he stood on his tippy toes to glare up at him.

Tears begin welling in his eyes as his dam of emotion he’d had been trying to keep in all these weeks burst, and he fought to keep them from spilling over.

Thorin’s expression was torn between anger and something softer, his hands hovering in the air as if he didn’t know whether to reach out or keep his distance.

“What is it?” Bilbo choked out, his voice barely a whisper. “TELL ME! What is so horribly wrong with me that you will not visit me? You came all this way, Thorin, you braved a raging storm to find me, and now you cannot- no, you will not, be in the same room as me for even a moment! Tell me! You insufferable Dwarf!”

Bilbo’s voice broke, dissolving into a sob as angry tears streamed down his cheeks. His whole body shook with anger and sadness and- he didn’t know what and he didn’t care what!

Thorin’s eyes softened as he watched Bilbo crumble, his anger seemingly melting away. “Well?!” Bilbo demanded again, his voice had begun to go hoarse. “SPEAK, DAMN IT! TELL ME!”

Thorin’s face contorted with emotion, and when he finally spoke, his voice was raw. “I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU!”

Bilbo froze, the words ringing in the air between them like a thunderclap. He reeled back, shock rooting him to the spot. Bilbo felt a little numb as he stared at Thorin.

Thorin let out a shaky breath and stepped closer, his hands moving to grip Bilbo’s forearms, steadying him-or perhaps anchoring himself.

“I-I am in love with you,” Thorin repeated. “I do not know when it happened, but it did. It was so subtle, I didn’t even realize it until it was too late. When we’re together, I… I forget everything else. For a while, I am not King under the Mountain, not Thorin Oakenshield. I’m just… Thorin. And when I realized what that meant. I felt that, I thought, if I stayed away, it would go away. But it hasn’t. I am in love with you, Bilbo, and I’m sorry. I understand if-”

Thorin’s confession was cut short as Bilbo, driven by he didn’t know, but he couldn’t stop it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Bilbo reached up and pulled Thorin into a rough kiss.

Thorin stiffened in surprise, but then melted into the kiss, his arms quickly wrapped around Bilbo. One hand found perches at the back of Bilbo’s head.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together. Bilbo’s cheeks and neck felt incredibly hot “Oh, you insufferable Dwarf,” Bilbo huffed, “You horrible fool. I wish I could hate you.”

Thorin’s lips curved into a small smile, he held Bilbo’s face gently. “But you don’t,” he whispered, his voice rough.

Bilbo shook his head, he couldn’t help as a wet chuckle tumbled out of him. He had to fight tears again, but a different kind. “No,” he whispered back. “No, I don’t.”

For the first time in weeks, the weight between them lifted, and they stood there, Thorin's hands still holding Bilbo's face. Neither spoke, but in that quiet moment, neither needed to.

They had both found exactly where they were meant to be.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

farewell for now

@m4yh4ps @bllbabaggins

but just real quick:

Bilbo: Thorin? Thorin: yes Amrâl? Bilbo: Who was that other raven I saw? Thorin: ah, that is my raven Valka. I have raised her, and her family for many years now. Bilbo: oh! Does she know Hugin? Thorin: I would hope so Kurdel, she is his mother Bilbo: oh! …tell her I think she looks very pretty. [Thorin laughs and nods to Bilbo]

#the hobbit #bilbo baggins #fanfic #bagginshield #the hobbit thorin #the hobbit bilbo #thorin company #thorin x bilbo #thorin oakenshield #gandalf #dwalin #nori the dwarf #fili durin #fili and kili #kili durin #lord of the rings #angst #im bad at tags

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