#Life really needs to cut the Line of Durin a break

[catbowserauthor]

MIDDLE EARTH 30 Day Challenge Day 22: Character You Pity Most

So here we are, Day 22! Character you pity the most. This is a fun one though, I don’t think I follow most fandom expectation. That’s okay though. I love switching things up though I suspect I’ve become a little predictable.

Let me address the character most people think of when this question is raised—Gollum. Now, I won’t lie, I do pity Gollum. Or to be more precise, I pity the creature he used to be, Sméagol. That was a distinction I started a while ago: Gollum is a corrupted, dark creature that will do what he has to in order to serve the Ring because he has utterly lost his soul to it. Sméagol is the River Folk that made a horrible mistake and in his emotional weakness, fell prey to the ring’s promise. Sméagol still loves his cousin and has never forgiven himself for murdering him. In fact, while little is known about their family, it is surmised that they held a similar to relationship to the bond that Merry and Pippin have, which makes it more heart breaking.

It's actually really disheartening because Sméagol almost wins out over Gollum, due to Frodo's kindness. There is actually a point in time where we see Gollum nearly disappear and Sméagol, "slowly put out a trembling, hand, very cautiously he touched frodo's knee- but almost the touch was a caress. For a fleeting moment, could one of the sleepers have seen him, they would have thought that they beheld an old weary hobbit, shrunken by the years that had carried him far beyond his time, beyond his friends and kin, and the fields and streams of youth, an old starved pitiable thing."

However, Sam awakes and immediately accuses Sméagol of wrong-doing and it seems that this accusation is what makes Sméagol surrender to Gollum. Tolkien utilizes a "green tint in the eyes" to symbolize Gollum being in command and while before, it would flicker, after this event, "the green glint did not leave his eyes". That is what is most pitying to me. Sméagol _could_ have been saved, and nearly was, but for one cruel act. I really love how this emphasizes that while a good, unremarkable deed can save someone, likewise, a cruel but not uncommon one can condemn someone.

However, there is one that I pity more than Gollum.

No surprise, we're back to the Durin line again and that award has to go to Thorin, specifically Movie Thorin who has a lot more development than Book Thorin (though the Appendixes gives more background than The Hobbit does, probably because The Hobbit is told from Bilbo's POV).

I just...I feel so bad for Thorin. He really presents as curmudgeon who is pretty stoic but when you look at how his life panned out, it's really hard to blame him for it.

He watched his grandfather give into Dragon Sickness and greed when he was less than 24 (by the book, the Movie implies he is of mature age for Dwarves so at least 75) but either way, he was quite young. Given the Dwarves' strong link to family, this must have crumbled him to see someone who no doubt had been deeply involved in his life as he grew suddenly giving way to madness, such so that he probably did not even recognize his loved ones anymore.

Then, there's the attack of Smaug. Again, the book states that Thorin was 24 which would have been preteenish in Dwarvish terms, if not younger but the movie indicates he was a young man, maybe early 20s by our standards or around Fili's age. He had to flee with his father, his grandfather (having to forcefully pull the half-crazed man from the hoard of gold) and lost the only home he had ever known.

Then, there's the struggle to survive. With no home, the Dwarves wandered Middle Earth, looking for settlement before attempting to take back Moria. This ended in a horrible massacre and the death of Thorin's grandfather, right in front of him, and the death of his little brother Frerin. His father, Thrain, vanished in the battle, leaving Thorin with only his little sister Dis left.

They make a living in the Blue Mountains but it's a hard living, one where he has to work to maintain the survival of his people in addition to serving as their political leader and ruler. In a sense, working three jobs. He works with the others to maintain the safety of their kind but there are still battles and conflicts, during which he loses his brother-in-law and thus, steps in as a father-figure for his two sister-sons. While he loves them dearly, this is another pressure placed onto his shoulders. All of this is being done without the support of the other dwarf clans because they will only rally to the one that possesses the Arkenstone, which is lost amid the treasure trove of Erebor.

Then, he sets out for Dunland in hopes of finding his father because he had heard rumors that he had been spotted only to be disappointed. He would never see his father again. Gandalf finally approached him with hopes of reclaiming Erebor and thus, not only winning back a culture, gold and home that was rightfully his but a means of uniting the dwarves and giving his family what he felt they rightfully deserved. Despite all this, he still falls to the Dragon Sickness and while he fights his way out of it, far more than what his grandfather had been able to do, he dies in the battle to protect what is his. Perhaps worse than even that is that he has to watch his sister-sons, boys that he had helped raise, die before him. Boys that, upon realizing they were in a potential trap, he even was willing to abandon pursuit of his mortal enemy in an attempt to save them.

Seriously, can someone give this guy a break? It's interesting that the Dwarves re-taking Erebor would actually play a role in the battle against Sauron. It isn't touched upon but there was a great battle at Erebor where Easterlings, under the rule of Sauron attempted to take the Lonely Mountain and Dale, presumably both for the riches and for the strategic position. The dwarves having retaken their homeland played a major role in these armies being pushed back. Also interesting is that after the capture of Gollum, ambassadors of Sauron approached the Lonely Mountain twice, each time asking about Hobbits and offering three of Dwarven Rings of Power plus the return of Moria in exchange for this information.

The Dwarves refused.

I can't help but pity Thorin, in no small part because life just never cut him a break. He had his faults but overall, all the guy was asking for was the return of his home that was taken from him and a chance to give his family the good life that they had lost.

He lost his own life and the life of his two dearest sister-sons in the process. I know life isn't fair but...damn.

Again, AU for the win...

[probably-haven]

Kaeya Alberich & Why his Failure is Inevitable

A theory on Kaeya’s reaction to- that event in his backstory.

take everything with a grain of salt , because it’s heavily based on assumptions, most of which are centered around his reaction to- backstory stuff, so gonna put that under the cut-. i actually originally said this in a reblog to someone asking the exact question awhile ago

im kinda in a content drought though so i might as well bring it back, hopefully some people find it interesting in this context though. Lol a lot of it is just seeing how angsty i can make it too so- ehe

actual content under the cut: (spoilers for kaeya’s backstory, diluc’s backstory, Khaenri’ah lore, and a bit of Childe’s backstory)

so the exact verbiage used in kaeya’s story for his reaction to Master Crepus’s death is: “Even someone like Master Crepus would submit to such a dangerous and evil power…” Sinister thoughts flashed through Kaeya’s mind, and he simply smirked— “This world is truly… fascinating.”

-

Now I’m actually pretty sure this quote ties in, not to the destruction of khaenri’ah, but to the cataclysm before it. Specifically, it deals with the Khaenri’ahn alchemist Gold who started it.

Canonically, Gold was an incredibly ambitious alchemist specializing in khemia 500 years ago. Their most well know achievement is corruption of the dragon Durin, but concealed much deeper in Teyvat’s history, a number of Gold’s legacies include incorporating the powers of the abyss into their alchemy(and eventually being corrupted by those very same powers, tho it might be a translation error), followed by the destruction of Khaenri’ah’s Eclipse Dynasty(including the royal family and the royal guards tasked with protecting the people of Khaenri’ah), and this was followed shortly by ‘using their talents to create an army of “shadowy monsters."’

these monsters, blood filled with the corruption of the abyss, would only continue pouring out of Khaenri’ah in waves until the fateful day that it was destroyed. The era of suffering these monsters caused would come to be known as the cataclysm.

-

taking those facts into account, it could be a remark about how even someone as kind hearted as Master Crepus could fall to the temptation and corrupting aspects of power that caused his people’s fall so long ago, even without the naturally corruptive effects of power from the abyss. that’s sad- but if you get into the theory of it its even sadder the further you go.

Now theory wise its important to make a few connections- I am under the impression that the “fall of the Eclipse Dynasty” that Gold caused through abyssal power was actually the first instance of Khaenri’ah’s curse, and the monsters of the cataclysm- were among the curse’s first victims.

a bit sadder with the fact that his statement can now refer to his feelings of there truly being nothing that could have been done to prevent the very same exact curse that has caused him so much suffering through his life. There was no resisting the corruption of power, only delaying it. It hammers in the fact that the reason he was sent to Mondstadt truly might be the destiny he had many times been told it was. A cruel joke from Celestia perhaps?

but not sad enough. let’s pull out the big one. The Khaenri’ahn Royalty Kaeya theory. (there’s a lot- im not gonna cover the explanation behind that one here)

Gold, the most powerful alchemist in Khaenri’ah would likely have worked under the Eclipse Dynasty, so assuming the theory of Kaeya(and Dainsleif) being the last member of the Eclipse Dynasty, its reasonable to say he would have known Gold. Now whether Gold was a good person or not is irrelivant because it remains the same either way. Kaeya has twice seen the corrupting abilities that come with power strip him of all those close to him, shouldering him with an additional responsibility to carry out in their memory that he never wanted. Yes this hurts more if he was close with Gold and Crepus managed to make him feel safe enough to get close to people even after that- but I’m here to provide the facts and theories, not the emotions, though theres a lot

but…. its a stretch(like a big stretch)… but for the sake of going all out on a limb, we can take this one step further.

In Childe’s story it references the abyss by saying “this dark realm had sensed the burning ambition in this boy’s heart” and it can be assumed that the powers granted by the abyss, as the natural opposition to Celestia(natural as in abyss magic literally opposes the magic of Celestia by nature) might just opporate in a similar way to the gnosises. Kaeya has no knowledge of gnosises though so for now lets use the word visions.

The powers of the abyss that were given to Gold would likely have been favored over visions from the gods in a godless nation like khaenri’ah afterall. and if he knew Gold, a known genius, he likely wouldnt have noticed anything off until it was too late. A sudden fall from his perspective. Visions, delusions, power from the abyss, what difference truly is there to a child raised to shun the gods. All are granted through ambition, and all will only end in suffering

afterthought:

However the main thing behind the Khaenri’ahn Royalty aspect of this angst fest- Kaeya would have been extremely young during Gold’s corruption and Khaenri’ah’s fall… like i cant help think of that one tik tok audio “that must be so confusing for a little girl” but it really does fit because now i can’t shake the imagery of Kaeya, faced with the imagery of the man who raised him dead as a result of a power he chose to use. And he finally understands what he was too young to understand back then. the world is not fascinating in a way that he is interested in it or wants to know more about it, but more interesting in the way that people’s eyes are involuntarily drawn to images of tragedy. It’s an expression of cruel irony, of truths he was forced to face, of knowledge he doesn’t want to know, but that he needs to know- if he plans on carrying through with his destiny- siding against Mondstadt. but siding with Mondstadt would cause him to turn against Khaenri’ah as Gold had all those years ago, and is that not fulfilling a cycle of fate all the same?

It’s an expression of mourning. He is chained by the legacy of Khaenri’ah and there’s nothing he can do to escape it. Either way the cycle will repeat. This fate gives him a unique power and even he will eventually succumb to it, doomed to be viewed as a corrupted betrayer no matter who he sides with, to doom yet another civilization in return. Such is his preordained role as the last hope of Khaenri’ah. The unescapableness, the way it all becomes so sure and clear and nauseatingly relevant in that very moment are what drive him to say that as he finally realizes that he cannot win.

-

of course a lot of this is a stretch and just theories, but the angst potential was there so i decided to run with it lmao

additional afterthought: this isn’t something kaeya would know, but the corruption of Durin by Gold was actually predicted by a priestess in dragonspine before Celestia destroyed it and made it like it is now.

just angsty because it reinforces the idea of a repeating cycle of foretold destiny that no matter hard hard Kaeya tries, he will never be able to escape. Really puts Mona’s “He believes he has made a clean break with his past, but one day fate will catch up with him” line into perspective.

[felassan]

Highlights and insights from the N7 Day cast & crew reunion panel

[Rewatch link]

In case a text format is better for anyone. There are some NSFW references. Cut for length.

(Some paraphrasing.)

“Some of us are inebriated”

“Patrick Weekes, the killer of man and beasts, the breaker of hearts”

JHale put the whole thing together, it’s the biggest ME cast reunion to date

The cast had no idea that the remaster was a thing

Lots of ace discussion about what the magic of the MET is (“it captured lightning in a bottle”)

Lots of warm fuzzies between the cast, crew and community, and lots of fun behind-the-scenes anecdotes

Lots of great discussion on the diversity and inclusion in ME: on gender, sexuality, representation, empowerment, the core message in the MET that “we’re all in this together or we’re screwed”, the progress made in the portrayal of female characters in gaming, etc. “Everything behind what went into these characters was authentic, we [the VAs] could tell that so much research, texture, authenticity etc had gone into them. It really made a difference”. JHale: “I’ve spent my career kicking down ceilings [barriers and so on women actors experience] with my steel-toed boot. To get to be a part of this game that has now created the expectation that there now be a female PC, ‘duh’, is once of the great things of my life. BioWare listened and put her on the box. The first time someone dropped the box in front of me I held it over my head and screamed over the crowd, ‘Casey Hudson, thank youuu!!’ It was a divine moment. This game was the moment the boot finally crashed through the glass, pushed by millions of women.”

The panel received many messages from the question submission from fans expressing that MET really helped them through very dark places and periods in their lives. The cast have had a lot of interactions with fans over the years where the fans expressed similar sentiments to them

ME was one of the first games Keythe Farley (Thane) acted for that had branching dialogue/dialogue choices, and when he saw the script with that when he went in, he was like “wow”. ME was the second big game D. C. Douglas (Legion) ever did. In his first audition he didn’t know it was for a robot-type character as it was disguised as something else with a military-feel. The second time it was to do a speech/lament at someone’s funeral and he knew it was for a robot. He said playing Legion for him was a case of “wake up, drink some coffee and go to work”

Jack was really special to her VA Courtenay Taylor because she relates to her so much and had a lot of similar emotional problems and personal troubles in her past. Jack helped her become who she has became. The host added that in his interactions with Courtenay over the years, he realized very quickly that she is very much like Jack

AWR has two moms, something which she hasn’t talked about/expressly said publicly before. Talking about recording lines between Sam and Femshep made her tear up. She said that being raised by two moms in the 80s was tough due to societal attitudes at the time, and so to see a loving relationship between two women depicted in a game was a big deal for her. When recording the white picket fence conversation, she was actually crying (“and then I’m crying because of the lesbians”). It was a huge moment for her to represent her moms’ journey. When she went home she told them all about how her character is gay and wants a white picket fence and everything “just like we had”.

When PW was working on Sam’s arc, one of the things they did was show it to one of their colleagues, who is a lesbian, asking what things she’d like to see in an arc like that and what things she felt were missing from it. The white picket fence conversation came from the colleague’s feedback (“we wanna see the nice, healthy, happy domestic stuff”, as it’s often missing in portrayals of wlw relationships)

As the VAs got more into their characters, they sometimes had feedback and input to the process to offer, like “I don’t think she’d say [this] like [that]”. Sometimes they knew their characters even better than the crew did sometimes. JHale waxed lyrical about Caroline Livingstone’s awesome direction, with the host adding that he has interviewed a lot of the VAs over the years and they all talk about Caroline like she’s Gandalf the White coming to the rescue in LotR. AWR expressed that Caroline is really funny (“don’t worry it’s not you, PW was sick when they wrote this line that’s why”) and emotionally in-tune with them and this makes long hard sessions with her a joy

When Mark went into record for the Citadel DLC one day he asked Caroline “wouldn’t be great if Shepard’s clone had been made to be the opposite gender? Then the two Shepards could fight each other!”

William Salyers (Mordin) likes the way Mordin’s story ended and felt that it was wonderful to be able to play that. He feels like the luckiest person because as he wasn’t the original VA of Mordin, he got to come in late to something that was amazing. “Caroline helped me get to where I needed to be emotionally to play that final scene. It was one of the most moving things I’ve ever gotten to do personally for a piece of interactive art”. PW related that with Mordin’s writing, they didn’t realize how much they were asking for. They thought William was amazing doing all the science-speak/technobabble, as they themselves didn’t know what it meant, and then suddenly having to deliver emotional heartbreaking lines. William’s always been a secret science nerd and so he loved that fact about Mordin. “It was a real treat to say your words”

Karin: “I always claim credit for the Scientist Salarian song even though I had nothing to do with it. I opened that door for PW”

Steve Blum (Grunt) found it a real treat playing Grunt as Grunt is a tough soldier on the outside but a [babey] on the inside, while he is more the other way around (softer on the outside, fight-y inside). He isn’t a gamer and so didn’t know what to expect or what he was getting into. There was the big pile of words, they showed him the picture of Grunt, and he just ran with it. “Grunt was kind of a perfect character for me in that respect”. Side note: his wry comments throughout the panel were hilarious

“Casey Hudson, our glorious loving overlord”

Courtenay jokes about “interspecies snorkeling”

The women Courtenay met working on this game are her friends for life. Ali Hillis (Liara) gave her her number the night of the ME3 drop and was like “let’s hang out!!” “JHale is the shit. I go to England and there’s AWR and I have this friend for life”.

“We’re a family”. The host comments that you don’t see this kind of closeness between the people on a lot of projects

Kimberley Brooks (Ashley) thinks things have and are changing for the better in terms of roles for women, and roles for brown and black women. This year she has noticed increasing awareness of inclusion and of where it’s lacking. “The copies I’m being sent for auditions, it’s drastically changing, I’m seeing it change before my eyes. It’s really exciting, there’s more and more roles for me.” “Ash is such a strong character and I felt very badass playing her, it was life-changing”. She’s excited that the remaster is going to be a new way to see these characters that they’ve been so lucky to voice. Kimberley/Ash was the first female character Karin saw in the studio, when she saw her she was like “Wow, she’s so kickass and inspiring”. At this point Karin hadn’t been working at BioWare for all that long, and she wanted to thank Kimberley, because she saw her and heard her voice and had a personal ‘this changes everything’ moment

Raphael Sbarge (Kaidan) finds it very moving how many women were encouraged into gaming due to ME

Raphael: “Everyone here has awesome varied careers, but because ME was so collaborative [and so on], [it was something really rare and special]. Nothing else I’ve done has been so important or impassioned, it has almost a religious experience to it, which you can see from tears in fans’ eyes and tattoos and people talking about it 10 years later”. “I’m so grateful for it.” “Clearly we’re going to do this again next year! :D” D. C. added that it’s going to follow him for the rest of his career. Courtenay says it has catapulted her career

PW talked about how it’s great that the female chars in ME were allowed to have real, realistic flaws and dark periods (as opposed to nonsense stuff like ‘her flaw is that she’s clumsy’)

Having the male and female PC be voiced was a big, expensive commitment for the studio. Karin commented that at the time, it was a risk that the pretty-much almost entirely-male leadership of BioWare at the time decided was important to take, and so she was happy that these were the values her colleagues had

PW was “the junior baby writer on ME1. I’d just gotten to the studio and Mac Walters fell down a flight of stairs and hurt his back, and they pulled me in while he was healing”. Karin: “Mac was very understanding when PW fell on the ice and hurt themselves during ME2.” PW: “My job in ME1 was to come up with conversations between followers to pass the time in the elevator loading times. I was throwing stuff at the wall to see what would stick”

Steve turning his volume down before he shouts classic Grunt quotes down the mic

Caroline: “Do you know how many tears were shed in the booth? How many times have we all cried in the booth...” JHale: “We were recording the end of ME3, which I never call the end, because I’m always like I’M HERE! [wink] The goodbye Garrus lines” - these lines got right under her skin and when she went to say her lines she couldn’t speak because she’d burst into tears. “It was all I could do to say those words... and then there was silence... [and Caroline had gotten choked up too].” This was one of the last sessions they did. PW: “John Dombrow wrote Garrus in ME3 and I’m gonna tell him that he got you both to break.”

Caroline was also really teary during Keith David’s (Anderson)’s performance where he tells Shepard she’s like his daughter. This moment was one of JHale’s favorites to act

BioWare came up with a proprietary VA recording system which JHale describes as a secret sauce as-yet not widely-used in the industry

Lots of fun in the line-reading portion at the end. The lines/scenes were sent in by fans. This starts around timestamp 1 hour 50 mins. There’s a break where they discuss more anecdotes after a bit then some line-reading resumes at 1 hour 59 mins 18 secs

"Salarian Vorcha Conrad Verner simmering sexual tension scene”

One of PW’s fondest memories is of ME3 when JHale and Mark got to play off each other (which they naturally didn’t get to do very much), when PW had shoved the entire script of the Blasto movie into random ambience throughout the Citadel. They knew Mark was going to be Blasto as he voiced most of the hanar. PW: “We had to have Blasto’s elcor partner’s hot sister... And I was like could it be JHale?? Because they hardly ever get to talk to each other. It was one of my proudest moments”. Mark: “Not only that, we had a romance.” JHale: “Yeah, it was hot”.

“Think of the poor cold freezing Edmontonian hanar”

PW’s story about Sam’s toothbrush: They wrote it as a throwaway line but AWR did it so well that PW wanted to bring it back in the Citadel DLC, as that DLC was the action-comedy one. So they decided the toothbrush was going to save the Normandy. The art director at the time was in an early playthrough of the scene and in that version of the scene Sam held up her empty hand. The director was like “We gotta make the toothbrush? Really? It’s gonna be thousands of dollars to render the toothbrush.” It then got to the next few lines and the director deadpanned at PW “Okay that’s pretty good, we’ll make the toothbrush.” PW: “Good, I got my toothbrush.”

It was John’s idea that we find out that Mordin had been working on a crime noir novel. There was a period in the development of the Citadel DLC where PW was feeling like “Mordin’s gone, he had his big moment, I want to respect and honor that” and the entire team were like “I think Mordin needs a couple more songs dude”. “Well alright!” By that point William had shown them he could deliver literally any line

“Oh I need a shower that was so steamy hot”

PW got in trouble with Localization over Jack’s “Save some of your energy, we’re gonna do it on the pool table” exchange. Localization were like “Um could you explain what Jack means by this??” These lines were PW’s, Karin as an editor got the question about it and passed it on to PW like “nope this is your fault”. “The best part is it was France that needed PW to explain the joke while apparently Germany were like ‘Yes please confirm that this is regarding the possibility of oral sex-’”

Keythe on voicing Thane: “Thane was a real lesson in opening up to the character, allowing this beautifully conflicted character to exist. Each character in the MET has conflicts within themselves and a tragic flaw that is revealed through the course of conflict.” He also waxed lyrical about how the MET was akin to Star Wars and Citizen Kane, and about the interconnectedness and representation in it

D. C.: “I have a question for you guys. Was it a conscious decision to not have Legion as a romance? Because there are a lot of upset people out there!!” “Voltage problems.” “A lot of creative reuses of ‘There was a hole.’” PW: “It was a process of us figuring out what we wanted to do. If we had known... The number of people who were like ‘I don’t know, are people gonna wanna romance Garrus? Liara? She’s blue and has no hair. Are people gonna be okay with that?” Karin: “We were young and naïve, now we know BioWare fans are thirsty.”

Derek brought in the first picture of Thane to show Caroline and she was like “He’s really hot, that’s gonna be a killer character. People are gonna want to romance that gentleman”

Raphael asked the BioWare team if there’s ever been a point where they thought about doing more DLC content or some kind of revival. “Has that ever come up?” “We’re legally obligated not to say, sorry, we’re going through a tunnel right now, bad reception!!”

D. C.: “Does this country have a soul?” “It does.”

“An N7 Day to remember! Go forth and heal.”

[midearthwritings]

Of Courtship and Patience (PART 1)

It took Naya many decades and three courtship proposals before giving her heart to Thorin.

Words Count : 2,188

Warning : Canonical Character Death, Grief

Author's Note : Ok so, little bit of context. The first part is set between TA 2793 and 2799, during the War of Dwarves and Orcs. I tried to stay as close to the story as possible. I'm really f-ing nervous because this is my first ever OC fic. Hope you will enjoy it.

And a big thank you to my #1 cheerleader @laurfilijames for helping me proof reading this and for her eternal support.

“Will they return to us?” 

Dís’ trembling voice made Naya look up at her. Her face, which was always so calm and composed, was distorted with fear and sorrow. 

Erebor was long lost, and exile had been forced onto them. It took years to get accustomed to the fact that they would never see the Lonely Mountain again. And after losing a home and being condemned to wander the world in search of somewhere to live, one would think there wasn’t much left to lose. It seemed the Gods did not share the same opinion for uncertainty and grief had been haunting the two young ladies’ nights lately.

Even without a king, those who could handle a weapon were taken away to battle. Even without a kingdom, the line of Durin was royalty. Therefore, they were the firsts to run into the deadly embrace of war. Death was their duty.

Slowly, Naya slid her hand into Dís’ in a gesture she hoped was reassuring enough.

“I cannot promise such a thing,” she said in a soft tone. “ For hoping too much might kill you if they do not come back. We can only wait.” 

The fire crackled quietly in the hearth, like a whisper carrying the saddest news and comforting them at the same time. It warmed their hearts when it had destroyed all they ever had, leaving them with nothing but their tears. 

Far from here, far from the safety of these walls, those they cherished the most were fighting vile creatures, exposing their souls to Death’s greedy fingers. Naya’s guts twisted and her eyes dropped to the floor. 

“If we lose them, Dís, will our friendship survive?”

A strong hand grabbed her face and forced her eyes to lock with Dís’. They were burning with determination, challenging her to repeat what she had said.

“Silly, if we lose them, you will be all I have left. So do not say such words, even to jest. I cannot bear the thought of having my greatest friend parted from me.”

The younger lady’s lips curved into a smile, a crooked one for the fingers digging into her cheeks made it hard. It made Dís smile as well, one mirroring the other. Mahal might have not crafted them to be each other's One, but surely, he had made them be the perfect reflection of the other's soul. They were like two sides of the same blade, held together by a bond so strong that neither time, life, or death would ever be able to break.       

      Although time did not break them apart, it did break their hearts. Many moons had passed without hearing from anyone. Dís, as well as Naya, had started to mourn the death of their brothers and friends. Or, at least, their disappearance. They had lost any hope of seeing them ever again. And so one day, they stopped praying for the Gods to have mercy, and silence replaced their hopeful chatter as they held each other’s hand every night. 

One morning, however, someone pounded loudly on Dis’ wooden door. Naya left her baking aside and went to open it. Perhaps was it that dwarf again, the one that was eyeing Dís like she was the most precious thing in this world. Naya wiped her hands onto her apron and pulled the door open.

It was not Dís’ suitor. She could not believe her eyes, at first. But there Thorin was, standing in the doorway, waiting for her to let him in. 

“Mahal, are my eyes fooling me?” She breathed out. “Thorin, is that really you?” 

The words had barely left her mouth when she heard Dís running down the stairs, her footsteps resonating inside the house like a thunderstorm. But all she could focus on was Thorin's blue eyes on her. They reminded her of the clear spring sky, full of promises of new beginnings. It was like when the sun was back from its long sleep, awakening the flowers and birds and people's hearts. And perhaps, at this moment, something did bloom in Naya's heart. 

             She did not hear  Dís call her brother's name and barely registered when she pushed past her to drag him into a tight embrace.

“Oh brother, I thought I would never see you again!” she exclaimed.

“Fear not, sister. A few cuts and scratches are all I had to go through.”

Naya smiled fondly. Dís’ love for Thorin washed over her, making her heart beat faster inside her chest. Only now did she realize it was not a dream. He had come back to them with almost no wounds and, most importantly, alive.

She stepped forward and laid her hand on Dís’ shoulder. Her friend pulled back, releasing Thorin from her arms. He was changed. His features had been hardened by war and his eyes were clouded with something she could not quite pinpoint.

“Won’t you embrace me as well?” 

Thorin’s deep voice sent shivers down her spine and she wrapped her arms around his body. He had lost weight, and she would have to make sure he regained all of it. But he hadn’t lost his muscles. She buried her face in his mane, but its softness wasn’t enough to make the coppery smell of blood go unnoticed. At this moment, Thorin felt like a stranger and like home all at once. 

“Your sister missed you greatly.” Naya whispered, only for him to hear.

“And you?” he asked in an equally low tone.

Naya chuckled and tightened her grip. She had missed him more than the sun missed the moon, more than the birds missed the trees covered in leaves during summer.  

“Yes, Thorin, I did.”

They let go of each other slowly as if to make the moment last longer. She could feel Dís’ eyes on her back, scrutinizing them. She stepped back, giving the prince some space, and offered a smile to her friend. 

“You must be tired, and hungry,” Naya said. “Get yourself comfortable, we will make something for you to eat.”

And so they did. Soon enough, the three of them were sitting at the table, sharing a meal. It was mostly Thorin who ate, in fact, for Naya and Dís did not feel the need to. Surrounded by comforting silence, they watched him eat, making sure he had everything he needed. But peace was something people were granted only for a short amount of time. 

“Thorin, when will Frerin come back?” Dís asked in a voice so timid Naya thought it wasn’t really her who had spoken up.

The prince looked up to his sister and Naya finally understood what it was that filled his eyes. It was grief. Frerin would not return. 

It did not take long for Dís to understand as well. She nodded slightly, tears threatening to fall, but she did not cry. She would when no one was looking because it was how royalty mourned the death of their loved ones. Naya was not royalty. Yet, she kept her head up and held back her tears to pay her respect to Frerin’s family and his memory. 

The following days, candles were lit in memory of the lost heir of Durin. They shone brightly like little stars, guiding Frerin into Mahal’s Halls. Naya held Dís as she grieved, but no words were able to soothe the excruciating pain that had taken over the princess’ heart.

Naya had hoped Thorin would help her, that he would stay by his sister’s side and comfort her, but no one had seen him for days. He had barely returned to them and he was already gone again. She felt anger towards him. For years, he had been away, battling against creatures that wanted him dead, and when Dís needed him the most, he was nowhere to be seen. Naya would have his head if he did not make an appearance soon.

One night, after they had stopped lighting candles and Dís was resting, he came to find her. It was late, and sleep had abandoned her. So she was baking again, hoping to silence the dark thoughts. She heard him coming from behind, his footsteps barely audible like those of a mouse. 

“Have you finally found some interest in your sister’s feelings?” she spat out, keeping her back to him. 

“Naya, I must speak to you.” 

She spun around, her blood boiling with rage. Wiping her hands on her apron, she walked up to him.

“No Thorin,” she said accusingly, her index finger digging into his chest. “It is I who must speak to you. We have not seen, nor heard from you in years. The thought that maybe you had passed away has kept us awake at night. Although I am more than delighted to have you back, you had no right to abandon your sister again. Mahal, Thorin, do you not care for Frerin’s death?”

His hand enveloped her wrist, carefully pushing it away. The feeling of Thorin’s calloused fingertips on her sensitive skin made her heart skip a beat.

“I do care for my brother,” he explained. “Crying over his death will not bring him back to life.”

“Then it is very selfish of you to believe everyone grieves the way you do.” 

They stayed quiet for a while, standing close to each other, their breath mingling together. Through the kitchen window the pale moonlight poured onto Thorin’s face and made his eyes look like the most precious jewels Naya had ever been blessed to see.

“I apologize for neglecting my sister, and you. I hope you will find in your heart the will to forgive my behavior. In my defense, I have been busy.”

“What could be more important than your family, Thorin?” she asked quietly.

Slowly, the prince pulled something out of his coat. It was a folded piece of fabric that looked a little dirty. He handed it over to Naya and she took it, looking back and forth between Thorin and the small bit of material.

“What is it?” she questioned again.

“You must open it if you wish to find out.”

Carefully, she unfolded it, revealing a single metal bead lying in the center. It was beautifully crafted, intricate patterns engraved into it. As she looked closer she recognized some of the symbols. Her eyes widened and she looked back at Thorin. 

“Thorin, I-”

“Naya,” he interrupted, cupping her face with his palms. “This is a token of my love for you. I wish I could offer you more, I wish we were still in Erebor so I could treat you as you deserve. But no matter where or when, no matter the circumstances, I promise to honor and cherish you until Mahal calls us into his halls. In your hands lies my heart and the promise of my eternal love. Please, allow me to court you.” 

Naya’s heart was pounding inside her chest, and she feared Thorin might have heard it because his lips curved into a small smile. The moonlight hit the bead, and the soft light caught her eyes. Her eyes fell back onto the tiny object and she smiled softly.

“This is what you have been up to…” she concluded, her finger brushing against the cold metal. “It is very pretty, Thorin. Your skills are very impressive. But I must refuse-”

As she spoke, she folded the piece of fabric over the silver bead, hiding it from her view and Thorin’s hands fell to his side.

“Why is that, if I may ask? Is it not to your liking? I could make you another one.”

“No Thorin, it is not that.” she said, giving him his gift back. “I must say, your feelings are returned. My heart beats for you, trust me. But we are still young, Thorin. As we grow up, your heart will change and desire other things. I do not wish for you to promise me love when your One could still be out there.”

The prince shook his head and grabbed her hips, pulling her against his chest, causing Naya to huff disapprovingly.

“I do not think my heart will ever love anyone but you.” Thorin affirmed.

Naya chuckled, her forehead falling to his shoulder. She stayed silent, enjoying the warmth of Thorin’s body against hers. 

“How about…” she began, pulling back. “ How about you wait some more? If your love for me has not faded, decades from now, you may propose again.”

She looked at him as he seemed to be considering her offer. Finally, he gave her a small nod.

“I shall wait then.” he declared. “Until then, allow me to steal a kiss?”

“Now, Thorin,” she joked, tilting her head to the side and wrapping her arms around his waist. “That wouldn’t be proper, much less from a prince, to steal kisses outside of courtship, don’t you think? Although, I can grant you this-”

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his bearded cheek. And the smile she earned from it was worth more than all of the gold in the world.

He would wait for her, and she would wait for him.

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Pick Up Lines

Welp, so a special someone has a birthday today, and I took part in a writing contest that she had to celebrate it. The funny part about this is that I wrote this story literally the day after I picked out my prompt. So I've been sitting on this story for about 2(?) months just waiting in suspense to share it, XD

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @guardianofrivendell!!!

I used this quote.

And this is a pairing between Fili & Tullaina

Warnings: Well, there maybe be an innuendo in there somewhere... ;) and a swear word or two. Nothing crazy

Pick Up Lines

My eyes flickered across the yellowing parchment of the scroll I had been assigned to read. At first the words were interesting and held my attention. Then as my attention began to wander, they became dull and frankly, dare I think it? Meaningless?

The librarian--and Ori--would strangle me, no questions asked if they knew how dull I found this ancient scrap to be.

The soft rustle of paper brought my attention back to the Dwarrowdame sitting across from me; dark-haired head bowed over the pages of an absurdly large and heavy tome whose title was written in overly large, flourishing golden script: A Brief History of Durin's Line: Volume 205.

I made a mental note to add my tutor, Lorelei, to the list. If she knew that I was more interested in a certain dark-haired dame than the 'exceedingly valuable and history-filled document whose knowledge is crucial to your future role of King' scroll, then she would be madder than Uncle Thorin when Kili had accidentally, (I wasn't so sure about that part), kicked Thorin's clothes into the river as he attempted to jump into it as we camped by it during the Quest.

It probably wouldn't help that Kili had already pissed her off earlier today during his session with her when he tried--unsuccessfully-- to flirt with her. Apparently the dame couldn't tell that my baby brother was head-over-heels for her.

"Oi, Fili!" A low, feminine voice called out loudly, making me cringe and breathe a sigh of relief all at the same time.

I twisted in my wooden chair to look over at the approaching Dwarrowdame. Dark red hair bounced messily across her shoulders as she trotted towards the table Lorelei and I occupied. The bright, beaming smile on her freckled face lit up the whole room and I found myself grinning automatically as she stopped beside my chair.

"Are you still studying these dusty old scrolls? Doesn't Thorin know that the sun is shining outside and there are things," she winked meaningfully at me, "that need to be done?"

I chuckled, pushing my chair away from the table with a soft scraping sound and stood up to tower a few inches above the dame.

"Good afternoon to you too, Tullaina." I answered, hurrying to roll up the parchment I had been trying to read until thoughts about Tullaina entered by head. Lorelei took one look at how I was treating the ancient parchment and let out an indignant gasp.

"I'll handle that, Prince Fili. Just don't damage this priceless piece of knowledge!" She gasped, snatching the scroll away from me and cradling it gently.

"Sorry, Lory." I apologized sheepishly, but she only shook her head.

"Just go on, I know you are eager to go spend time with Lady Tullaina. Do not let me stand in your way, Prince Fili." She sighed, and I shot a grin at Tullaina.

"Let's go and you can tell me about what things you have in mind."

~~~~~

We strolled through an abandoned corridor of Erebor together, Tullaina chatting animatedly about a prank she had conjured up when she'd accidentally set fire to one of Erebor's kitchens while attempting to assist one of the cooks with the cutting of a slab of pork.

"...and all the smoke and the blood from my finger made me think of setting up a sort of scene in one of the corridors and making a huge smoky fire and spilling berry juice everywhere. It would look like one big murder scene without a body." She finished up excitedly, and I could only smile.

"I like the idea, Tulls, but don't you think that's a bit complicated? I mean, coordinating all that and finding all those berries..." I trailed off as Tullaina's nose wrinkled up as she frowned.

Adorable.

"I guess..." She nodded, pondering my words. "Is there something else we could do for June Fools?"

I glanced over at her, making momentary eye contact with those wondrously captivating brown irises of hers.

"Well... I was considering something that is a bit more.... Criminal."

Tullaina's eyes got big.

"What?!" She hissed, stopping dead to stare at me in disbelief. "Fili, are you nuts? If your Uncle caught us doing something illegal..."

I shrugged, a smirk winding its way across my face as I took in her confusion. "You've already committed a crime, Tulls, and you made it look easy."

She let out an indignant gasp and put her hands on her hips in a gesture that warned me that she was getting angry. "Fili, I may be many things, but I am not a thief." She ground out, but I kept smirking at her. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing! I've never stolen a thing in my life!"

My smirk only grew as she denied any thieving activities. Crossing my arms across my chest, I raised an eyebrow at her in perfect seriousness. "Oh, but you have stolen something, Tulls." I murmured, making Tullaina frown up at me.

"What are you accusing me of stealing? Fili, I swear, if this is about that bloody teddy bear you had when you were thirty--"

I shook my head, holding up a hand to halt her angry spew of words. "No, you stole my heart." I murmured, holding eye contact with her.

Her mouth dropped open in an expression of complete surprise and shock and she stared mutely up at me. "I, wha-what?" She choked out, and I quickly dropped my serious approach.

Today was not the day.

Quickly plastering on a teasing grin, I nudged her with my elbow, forcing out a laugh. "Gotcha." Then I started walking again, stamping down all the doubting, questioning thoughts threatening to break through the wall I had built.

But in a moment, Tullaina was beside me again, her laughter echoing off the stone walls. "Mahal, Fili.... You really had me going there for awhile..." She giggled, raising her hand to brush her hair over her shoulder. "That's a really bad pick-up line, though...."

I grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I thought you'd get a laugh out of it. And unfortunately there's more where that came from."

Tullaina's warm brown eyes lit up and she looked expectantly up at me. "Okay, spill." She asked excitedly, almost bouncing as we walked.

I eyed her anxiously, unsure how to proceed with this. But then she looked over at me and all my doubts were whisked away in the blink of an eye.

I was her friend, she was mine. There was nothing more here. Just treat her like you always do.

"Alright, what about this one? Do you have a sunburn or are you always this hot?"

At first, Tullaina gaped, then she snorted; eyes closing as she giggled. "That one's not bad..." She commented, and I felt a burst of encouragement.

"My friends bet me that I wouldn't be able to start a conversation with the most beautiful girl in the tavern. Wanna buy some drinks with their money?"

Tullaina shrugged at that one, tilting her hand from side to side. "That one's okay..."

To my horror, the next one that popped into my mind--and subsequently out of my mouth--was one that I never would have dreamed of saying to Tullaina. "Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?"

Instantly, Tullaina's cheeks turned beet red--likely matching mine--and she turned to look at me, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she couldn't decide if it would be appropriate to smile or not. "Ummm...."

"Mahal, I didn't think before I spoke, Tulls." I apologized, rubbing the back of my neck.

Tullaina giggled nervously. "It's alright, Fili. I just never expected that to be something you would say to a lass."

"It's not something I would say unless I'm completely off my face." I admitted, and the smile returned hesitantly to her face. "But, what do you think of this one? Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?"

Tullaina stuck out her tongue. "That one is awful..." She stated with a wrinkled nose. "0/10 would recommend using."

I laughed, feeling a soothing wave of relief wash over me as the previous awkward mood faded. "I thought that one wasn't half bad!" I defended the line, but Tullaina only rolled her eyes.

"You're a Dwarrow. Of course it sounds good to you. But if you were a dame... We have a different perspective on things." She explained offhandedly. "Please, continue."

"Do you have a name or can I call you mine?"

"Where in Mahal's name did you get this one?!" Tullaina exclaimed, pretending to gag. "That one is worse than the last!"

"I'll agree with you on this one. I'd never dream of using this to get a lass' name. It's just rude."

Tullaina nodded vigorously. "If you used it on me, I'd slap you so hard you'd have a permanent imprint of my hand on your face." She stated venomously, and I took a hesitant step sideways. This made her laugh as she watched me. "Not now, if you had just met me and were being weird. Only one of those things applies to you so you're safe."

I let out an affronted gasp. "I'm not weird!"

Tullaina only shrugged, smirking at me. "I'm a girl, and to girls, boys are weird."

"Fair point. And the same is true likewise."

Removing the extra space I had put between us by taking a sideways step, Tullaina looked over at me. "Okay, one last one, then we actually need to move onto serious topics. If you let me, I will procrastinate over June Fools, and that cannot happen on our first try at doing Twelve Months of Fools. I mean, we've already gotten through five months successfully! We can't stop now!"

I nodded, giving Tullaina a sly look. "Alright, unless that would be the prank all along since people are expecting it now?"

"NO!"

"Fine, fine..." I relented, extending my hand towards her. "Your hand looks heavy, can I hold it for you?"

"Sure." Tullaina placed her hand in mine; palm gentle and warm against the calloused, rough surface of mine.

The unexpected motion had my brain shutting down as I frantically tried to figure out what was supposed to happen next.

Tullaina shot me a confused look, glancing down at our hands. "Fili, you're supposed to hold my hand back, not just suddenly let it become a limp noodle."

I didn't respond, trying frantically to think of something--anything!--to say. Which, of course, led to the absolute last thing I wanted to say being the exact thing I said.

"Your lips look lonely, would they like to meet mine?"

Tullaina's lips parted; the bottom jutting out just the tiniest bit because it was slightly bigger than the top. Not that I knew this because I'd spent literal days just gazing at her perfect, sensual lips.

No, not at all.

"Fili, I, uh, yeah..." Tullaina whispered, and I stared at her in shock.

She stared back expectantly.

The silence continued on for another very long, very awkward moment until Tullaina spoke up. "You're not going to say anything? Are you serious or is this just a prank?" She asked, and I detected just the barest hint of vulnerability in her soft-spoken words.

I sucked in a deep breath, realizing that I hadn't really been breathing between my last sentence and Tullaina's. "I don't know," I breathed, staring at Tullaina in terror. "I didn't think I would get this far!"

The corner of Tullaina's mouth turned up in a smile. "Maybe we just experiment a bit, yeah?" She asked, taking one step closer to me. "Because I'm bloody scared out of my mind, Fili, but if I don't do this I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life."

I nodded silently, staring down at her as she took another slow step closer, rising up on her toes. Automatically, my hands settled on her waist, steadying her as I leaned down to meet her plush, distracting lips.

"OH DEAR MAHAL, FINALLY!!"

Tullaina and I jumped apart, looking around wildly for the terrifyingly familiar voice. I found it in the form of Kili as he peeked out from a pillar, hands clamped around his mouth and a look of absolute panic on his face.

"Oh, uh, I wasn't supposed to interrupt you... Just go back to kissing or whatever. Pretend I was never here." He faltered, looking at Tullaina and I sheepishly. "Sorry."

I took a step forward, bristling as I prepared to teach Kili a lesson he wouldn't forget. "Kili, I'm going to--"

Tullaina grabbed my sleeve, stopping me in my tracks as she finished my sentence. "Spend time with Tullaina. Come on, Fili. We have things to do and abandoned corridors to explore."

[ludi-ling]

I just made it in time for the prompt of the day! Yay! You can also read it on FF.net here. Or you can read down below! :)

No Matter What

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: X-Men (Comicverse) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Remy LeBeau/Rogue Characters: Remy LeBeau, Rogue (X-Men) Additional Tags: Anniversary, Married Couple, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, rogue/gambitweek2020, rogue/remyweek2020 Summary:

This was written for Rogue/Gambit Week 2020, Day 6 - First Anniversary. Thanks to @Jehilew for the awesome Deathbit angle. And thanks to @DayenuRose for making Rogue/Gambit Week happen! Please enjoy!

-Ludi x

No Matter What

                “You have no idea,” Rogue declared expressively over the rim of her wineglass, “how great it is to be off that crazy ass island!”

    ��           Remy smirked with amusement as she downed the contents of the glass as if it were a pitcher of beer.

                “Well, you said you didn’t mind goin’, chere,” he pointed out humorously. “All that sun, sea, sand and sex… You said it’d be like bein’ back on Paraiso!”

                “Sure.” She waved a hand and plonked the glass back down onto the table, inelegantly smacking her crimson lips. “That was what you persuaded me with, anyways. I wasn’t the one who originally wanted to head there, not when you started all that talk about spyin’ on our friends!”

                Remy said nothing and eyed her with appreciative bemusement. Gorgeous though the setting was (he’d only booked them into the most luxurious restaurant in Paris, with a glorious view of the Eiffel Tower to boot), there was definitely something playing on the mind of his darling wife, and there’d been thunder clouds brewing over her head for a while now.

                Under the circumstances he didn’t think it wise to bring up the fact that something weird was going down in Krakoa. He’d only reminded her about fifty times already, and he didn’t want to agitate her more than she was already. But damn him if he wasn’t going to bleed this out of her at some point tonight. She was looking far too beautiful, in her fiery red cocktail dress, for him to settle for anything less than sinfully hot sex on their anniversary night. Oh yes – he had plans for the evening, and her being in this particular flavour of stubborn was not a part of them.

                Still…

                “C’mon, you knew I was right to not trust Poccy. ‘Specially after what he pulled on you.”

                He’d expected her to defend En-Sabah-Nur… Hell, she’d been doing it a suspicious amount lately… But to his surprise she simply flicked those gorgeous green eyes up to him, chewed on her lips thoughtfully, and said:

                “Ya know, I never did thank you, Remy.”

                “For what?”

                She lowered her eyes, stabbed her fork into her salad, raised them again.

                “For lookin’ out for me back there. For takin’ care of me when I was stuck in that coma. For havin’ the forethought to have Rachel keep an eye on me. I never thanked you for all that. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

                For a split second he was surprised.

                “I did what I had ta. You’re my wife.”

                She pouted, blew a stray white lock out of her hair.

                “You were so worried. I know. The others told me you pretty much didn’t leave my side. And I came out of that coma so angry and pissed that I didn’t even think about what kinda effect all this had on you. I’m sorry.”

                For the first time in while she actually looked… abashed. Deflated. She hadn’t looked that way since that celebratory night in the hot tub when she’d opened up to him in a way she hadn’t ever opened up to him before. There had been a hardness to her since they’d landed on Krakoa, a shield covering up…something. He wasn’t sure what, but he’d felt it, and this was one of the first times she’d let that guard down since then.

                “Chere, look,” he began seriously, “you had Poccy rattlin’ round in your head. Of course you were pissed. Of course you weren’t yourself. Don’t worry about it.”

                He began to carve into his steak, thinking the conversation was over; but she continued to surprise him by looking at him thoughtfully and replying:

                “Ya know, I have thought about it, Rem.”

                Her voice was soft, melancholy, and when he looked at her, all done up so fine for him in that slinky red dress with that sad, sad look on her face, he was moved to set down his knife and fork and say:

                “What you thought about, mon coeur?”

                Her eyes flickered to his and away again, as if her thoughts embarrassed her.

                “Whether all… this… ain’t just Apocalypse still floatin’ round in my head.” She frowned. “I know I ain’t been myself lately, and… I know it’s been worryin’ you too. I hate it – worryin’ you. But there’s a lot of him still up here, and he’s so strong sometimes he’s a little hard ta put away, ya know?”

                She tapped her temple and grimaced.

                Remy nodded silently. Honestly, he was a little relieved to hear her talking about it. Apocalypse being in her head was something he’d worried about more than just a little over the past couple of weeks, but every time he’d tried to broach the subject, she’d swatted it away irritably. He’d known then that it’d been bothering her, but he’d figured he should just take a step back and let her acknowledge it whenever she was good and ready.

                Now seemed to be the time, and he wasn’t about to ruin it for her.

                “And,” she added in a faster tone, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth, “you may have been right about Poccy proving himself untrustworthy. But… havin’ had him in my head the past week or so… I think that he really believes he has mutantkind’s best interests at heart.”

                “And d’ya think he really does?” he cut in pointedly.

                She was silent, merely throwing him a penetrating glance. He read her expression with ease.

                “Well then,” he spoke with a curl of a smile, “we’ll just have to stick around in paradise and keep an eye on him.”

                And for the first time in a while, her face broke into a conspiratorial smile.

                “Amen t’that, sugar,” she grinned, raising her glass to his.

-oOo-

                Rogue had appreciated the effort her husband had gone to for their first anniversary – fine wine, fine food, and him all wrapped up in that delectably tailored suit of his. But then, he always had cleaned up well; it was impossible for him not to, with that toned physique and his stupidly long legs. She liked him rough around the edges, but when he went around looking like this – looking good enough to be on the front of Vogue – she found it difficult not to go weak at the proverbial knees.

                Here they were, on the restaurant’s dancefloor, slow dancing to the music because neither of them was very accomplished dancers; but they knew how to hold one another, and that was all that mattered.

                “So,” Remy asked, tellingly nonchalant. “Just what the hell runs around Poccy’s head durin’ downtime?”

                Rogue tutted, exasperated this his mind was still on this particular subject.

                “Didn’t we promise we wouldn’t talk business tonight?” she griped.

                “I’m sorry.” He gave his most adorably helpless smile. “I’m worried about you, ‘kay? You haven’t talked about what went down back there the whole damn week. And I know you, chere, but absorbin’ Poccy to death ain’t no walk in the park, even for you.”

                “Pfft.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, shug. I told you already.”

                “You sure? ‘Cos you been a li’l… withdrawn, since all’a that b’sness went down. Just so you know,” he added quickly, seeing her brow furrow and her lips begin to pout, “ya can talk ta me if ya need to. Okay?”

                She was still learning to appreciate his genuine and open concern for her. So many years down the line, and now with a ring on her finger, she still found it difficult not to swat that concern away. Besides… things had been playing on her mind – she couldn’t deny that. She’d absorbed so many peoples’ psyches in her time, but never to the point of taking their lives. This should have been… big. Life-changing, in so many ways. So, she’d almost been ashamed to admit that she felt good. She wasn’t sure what that meant right now, except that her mind was clearer than it had been for a while, and she was gonna run with that feeling as far as she could. She wasn’t sure she could for long, not with Apocalypse lurking around in there somewhere.

                “Remy,” she answered as calmly as she could, “that’s very sweet, but please don’t worry about me. I feel absolutely fine. If that changes, you’ll be the first to know. Now please,” she continued, nestling her head comfortably against his chest as they swayed to the music, “let’s not talk about work while we’re here.”

                “Okay,” he agreed; but barely a minute had passed before he asked, “Are you sure there ain’t no ‘Pocalypse rattlin’ round your head, chere?”

                Rogue snapped back, almost completely breaking away from him in her exasperation.

                “Remy—”

                “Be honest, Rogue. Don’t you think your thoughts have been… a little weird recently?”

                Oh. She knew what this was about.

                “You’re talkin’ about me not wantin’ to have kids, aren’t ya,” she levelled quietly at him. She was so used to him charming his way out of sticky conversations, that she was a little surprised when he pursued the topic, his expression completely earnest.

                “And I meant what I said when I said I was fine wit’ your decision. But honestly… don’t’cha think it came a li’l from left field? You’ve always wanted kids. I mean… back when we was in California… The conversations we had…”

                “That was a long time ago, Remy.”

                “Then help me out. I’ve obviously missed out on a lot the past few years.”

                Rogue felt her temper begin to rise. She knew in her heart of hearts that this had been bothering him all week, and she understood that… but for him to have chosen tonight of all nights to have this conversation – that pissed her off.

                “Remy, I really don’t wanna have this conversation right now…”

                He looked a little wounded at that, which also annoyed her, even though she also knew, deep down, that he wanted kids. The clues had been there over the years… the bitterness with which he’d told her, once, long ago, that he’d learned that a person like him would be better of giving up on ever having a family… the mansion he’d once bought back in NOLA for the life he’d never got to live with Belladonna… and, most recently, the fact that he’d seen Spiral’s soul as the thing he’d most wanted. A baby.

                Her choice not to have one had hurt him. He’d played admirably at fooling her into believing he’d let it go, but that was all it had been, she realised. A play at acceptance.

                “Why the hell didn’t you mention this before if it worried you so much?” she asked him pointedly.

                “Are you kiddin’?” It was his turn to look annoyed. “It ain’t like we’ve had any time to ourselves t’talk about anythin’ recently, and every time we have, you ain’t really been of a mood t’talk about anythin’. And anyway, I swear the walls have ears on that island! Every time I even think somethin’, I feel like one of the Five has heard!”

                “Do ya really need me to remind ya,” she replied archly, “that you were the one who brought up the idea of goin’ to Krakoa first? To – what was it? – ‘keep an eye on things’? I was actually pretty darn happy at home with the cats.”

                “C’mon. Don’t’cha think it was a good idea that we did? Don’t you find it really creepy that we’re suddenly goin’ in for this world domination, homo superior thing right now? And this law, this ‘make more mutants’? It can’t be just me who thinks it sounds fuckin’ fascist! This ain’t what the X-Men stands for, and I ain’t heard nobody on that island even question any of this! Don’t you think that’s weird as fuck?”

                “I ain’t sayin’ it ain’t problematic,” Rogue hissed, lowering her voice as an expertly waltzing couple whizzed past. “All I’m sayin’ is, you don’t have a right to complain to me about it, when it was your idea! And if I’d stood my ground and not gone along with ya, I wouldn’t have fried Poccy to a crisp with my stinkin’ powers!”

                “Oh, so he is givin’ you grief then?”

                “I didn’t say that!”

                “You pointed it out like you was regrettin’ it.”

                “On principle, yeah. I mean, wouldn’t you, if you’d absorbed that asshole? Doesn’t mean he’s causin’ me any particular grief.”

                “Well, I’m glad,” he snapped back with genuine anger this time. “’Cos bein’ near that ‘asshole’ gives me a helluva lotta grief every minute of every goddamn day.”

                That did it. She broke away from him fully this time, pissed beyond believe that he was ruining their anniversary like this.

                “Ya know what, Cajun? I’m gonna go out and get some fresh air. And I suggest you do too.”

                And with that she stormed over to the balcony and took off into the night sky, leaving behind a bevy of politely intrigued and gossiping guests behind her.

-oOo-

                Remy was acutely aware – and not particularly sorry – that he’d put his foot in it. Pretty badly, at that.

                “I don’t care what I said ‘bout ‘Poccy,” he muttered irately as he hauled himself up the side of the Eiffel Tower. “I’m right. Fresh air, my ass. This whole thing stinks.”

                He had to kick himself for doing this particular stunt in the worst get-up ever – suit and tie and dress shoes, and without a lick of gear at that – but these were the rules his darling wife had set him, and so he didn’t have much of a choice.

                Nevertheless, he thought, as he dragged himself painstakingly up towards the tower’s peak, he knew he was at least partially to blame for this. If only he’d kept his mouth shut… But this had been tormenting him for days now, and he hadn’t been able to help himself from spilling it all out. He’d felt as helpless from doing so as a volcano about to burst. Everything he’d thought he’d known about Rogue all this time had seemingly imploded. He wanted to know what had changed. Wasn’t he owed at least some explanation, when he’d allowed himself to set his heart on something he’d denied himself forever – a family?

                Remy pulled himself up over the final hurdle and onto the very tip of the spire. Rogue was there, hovering a little off the ground with her back to him, her arms about her as the chilly night hair whipped her scarlet dress about her, tugged errant coppery curls from their updo. He sucked in a breath. No matter what mood he was in, she always took his breath away. Always.

                Slowly getting to his feet, Remy shrugged off his jacket and quietly came up behind her, gently arranging it over her shoulders. It was a peace-making gesture – they both knew it. And when she drew the jacket closer round her, he knew his apology had been at least halfway accepted.

                “I’m sorry,” she surprised him by saying it first. “It’s so easy to forget sometimes what Apocalypse did to you, and I should never have treated it so lightly. I’m sorry, Remy. Call me dumb, but until right now, I never appreciated how difficult it must be for you to be on the same team as him… How much it must hurt. I’m sorry.”

                She never ceased to amaze him. Ever. His anger abated somewhat, and he wrapped his arms around her from behind, held her close.

                “It’s okay,” he murmured against her ear, propping his head on her shoulder and looking out on the spectacular view of Paris before them. “What happened was a long time ago.”

                “He made you into his soldier of Death, Remy!” she retorted. “That don’t just leave ya, sugar! That stays with you forever.”

                He was silent.

                Death wasn’t something he thought about a lot, and it was something he talked about even less, even with her. Perhaps especially with her. The whole saga had marked a period of their relationship that had frankly been one of the worst. He wasn’t even brave enough to talk about it now.

                “Anna,” he finally spoke. “Can I ask ya somethin’? You don’t have to answer, and I want ya to know I still support ya, whatever you say, or even if you answer or not, but… When ya said you didn’t think you’d want ta have children, was it really because of some dream you had, or was it ‘cos o’ somethin’ more?”

                Her body stiffened a little; but she didn’t move away.

                “Remy, what people want sometimes changes…”

                “I know,” he answered with a small nod. “Honestly, I do, chere. But I jes’ wanna know whether there wasn’t somethin’ else. The times you talked to me about how you’d always just wanted t’ know what it was to hold someone in your arms… a lover… a bébé… … You ‘member back in Valle Soleada? That night when we was lookin’ after Jack and Paint’s kids, and ya said that this was all you’d ever wanted? You, me, the house, and two kids?”

                She was quiet a long time, so much so that he thought she wouldn’t reply. He was almost taken off guard when she did.

                “I don’t think I could ever forget that,” she answered softly.

                He could tell, from the tone of her voice, that there was something on her mind now. He didn’t want to speak for fear of breaking what he sensed would be the prelude to a moment of honesty.

                “Look…” she began, finally, “you’re right. This ain’t just about some nightmare I had, although I wasn’t lyin’ about that.” She sighed deeply, her hand almost subconsciously coming to grip his own, to hold it tight. “You weren’t wrong, Cajun. I did want a fam’ly, for the longest time. But for a whole mess o’ reasons, I guess you could say my feelin’s’ve changed. Back then I was young and romantic… Idealistic, you could say… I didn’t have any idea of what it’d be like to be in a committed relationship, let alone what it would be to be settled and have kids. Since then… I’ve learned a lotta things about myself. About life. I’ve… grown up. And white picket fences and a couple o’ kids ain’t how life’s cracked up to be, is it? Not really. We lead a real crazy life, Cajun. Would it be fair on kids, t’ put them through all that? I mean, what’s goin’ on with Franklin Richards right now… What happened to Cable, and Hope, and, gawd… look at those crazy twins too. What kind of a life could I give them? Could I even rise to the kinda responsibility it’d take t’ raise them?”

                She was in full flow now, both her voice and body stirring with emotion as she continued:

                “And ya know what the truth is? I haven’t even been sure if I’ve been able to have kids for ages now. What happened with the Terrigen plague… that shoulda left me sterile, and even though I went through the treatments, they could never really tell me whether I’d ever be able to bear children.”

                She took another deep breath, absently played with his wedding ring, her tone turning pensive.

                “And then, y’know… I’ve thought a lot about whether the nature of my mutation even makes it possible for me to conceive. What being immune to pretty much everything really means in terms of my body. Whether I’d absorb a kid if it was inside me, and… I couldn’t take that kinda trauma, Remy. I couldn’t. Forget what happened with Apocalypse. If I killed my own kid before it’d even been born, it’d make me want to die.”

                She was shaking, actually shaking in his arms, and he squeezed her hand, pulled her closer.

                “Anna, chere, none of that means you don’t want t’have a kid, just that you might not be able to have one…”

                “Yeah,” she cut in morosely. “You can say they’re two different things, but honestly, Remy, what matters is that I ain’t ready to even begin to contemplate the potential trauma havin’ a kid – that whole process – might put me through. And honestly, with the way things are now, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to go through that. That’s why, when I say I might never want to have children, I mean it. This ain’t some grand sacrifice, and it ain’t me bein’ selfish either. It’s just how I feel. I just ain’t ready.”

                She was finished; and he gave a morose little smile to himself. These were the times he loved her best – when she let those famous guards down, when she laid herself out before him with all the raw honesty and passion he knew she was capable of. When she opened up to him, even though she was hurting, scared. He knew how much the mask of fearlessness meant to her. It humbled him to know she’d drop it, just for him.

                “I understand now,” he said.

                She turned in his arms and faced him, searching his face earnestly.

                “Do ya?”

                “Yeah,” he nodded, meeting her gaze. “I do. You been feelin’ this way for a while, huh?”

                “For a while,” she nodded. “At least… I’ve been confused ‘bout how I’ve been feelin’ for a long time. I guess you could say my feelin’s became a lot clearer only recently. I’m sorry, Remy,” she added sadly. “I know you’ve been… havin’ your own feelin’s about this lately, and it made me scared t’ talk to you about it. But I should’ve been more honest sooner. Your feelin’s are as valid as mind, sugar.”

                “Sure.” He nodded. “But it’s your body first and foremost. You get to make the final decision, chere. Always. Now,” he concluded, tucking the coat closer round her shoulders and pressing his forehead against hers. “Can we head back t’ the hotel, ‘sugar’? It’s damn cold up here!”

-oOo-

                Later, in the Art Deco splendour of their Parisian hotel, the cold was all but forgotten.

                Rogue curled into the warm cradle of Remy’s naked body, content – after all that time without him – to just be near him, to hold him, to breathe in his scent.

                He’d been quiet for a long time, in the kind of way that told her that something was on his mind – and she knew exactly what he was thinking.

                “I’m sorry, Remy,” she found herself apologising again, shifting slightly to kiss his chest. “Ya know I’d change my mind about this just for you, but I can’t.”

                He laughed a little and pressed his lips into her hair.

                “We both know you wouldn’t change your mind for my sake, not even if you was inclined to. And I guess that’s what I love best about ya, chere. You’re stubborn as a mule.”

                She slapped his chest playfully and propped herself up on an elbow, shooting him a suitably hammy death stare.

                “I am not, Cajun!”

                “Are so!”

                “Not!”

                “So!”

                He successfully derailed the argument by grappling for one of her most ticklish spots, which, predictably, ended up in another round of fun and games. It was only after she’d come down from the dizzying heights of her climax that she realised that it had, at least partially, been one of his well-practiced distraction tactics.

                “Seriously, Rem,” she persisted as they lay entwined together – this time she refused to let his charms work on her. “Tell me what’s on your mind. I was honest – now’s your turn, sugar.”

                “Damn, chere,” he laughed, still flushed and breathless from their latest little tussle. “You don’t miss a trick.”

                “Neither do you,” she rejoined pointedly. “Now tell me.”

                He gave a noise that sounded like something between irritation and resignation, rolling away from her and onto his back.

                “Guess ya know me too well, huh?” he threw at her, his expression all at once accusing and affectionate.

                “Well, Cajun,” she purred, shifting back over him and running her fingers teasingly down his chest and abdomen. “I ain’t been messin’ around with you all these years without gettin’ to know ya a little better than most. Somethin’s still on ya mind. I can feel it.”

                She’d said the words lightly, playfully almost – but he hadn’t taken them that way. Or maybe he hadn’t even really heard her at all. His face was stoic, self-contained.

                “What?” she asked quietly.

                “Anna,” he answered, reaching out to twist her cinnamon curls gently between his fingers. “You were right about me wantin’ a fam’ly. I do – I reckon I always did, deep down. But I after Belle and I split…”

                “Yeah,” she finished for him when he couldn’t continue. “I know. You took me to the house you were gonna share with her, remember? Told me about the life you wanted to have, that you’d planned for. Y’ told me you gave up on that, and I knew it was ‘cos you thought all the bad things you’d done in your life meant you couldn’t trust yourself as a father. But that past is gone now. And all the sins you figured you did with it are gone too. So now—”

                “So if there’s a time to be honest wit’ myself about the things I want, it’s now.” He heaved in a breath, let it out again, his eyes wandering the ceiling. He was struggling for words, she knew, and it was several moments before his eyes met hers again, and he felt able to speak.

                “The truth is, when you told me how you felt about havin’ kids the other night, it got me t’ thinkin’ myself. You know you were talkin’ about these thoughts, these feelin’s, you’d been havin’ subconsciously for a while now, but it’d only taken until recently for them to surface?”

                She nodded, oddly apprehensive about whatever it was he was about to reveal.

                “Well,” he continued, “I got the same kinda feelin’ the other night when we had that talk in the hot tub. Honestly, Anna? I don’t even know if I can have kids either.”

                His gaze had wandered again, like the words shamed him. She frowned, confused.

                “I don’t understand… …”

                “Anna,” he said with a dead calm. “I was Death. Whatever Apocalypse did ta me, I couldn’t tell ya, but I know it was bad, and I also know that I won’t ever be sure if Sinny really got that shit outta my system for good.”

                He still couldn’t look at her, and his obvious shame made her feel sad.

                “Remy, that was ages ago. You ain’t had any symptoms of revertin’ back to Death for years now…”

                “No, I know,” he broke in quickly. “The Professor helped me rebuild my mind after all the shit that happened, but my body… What if Death is still inside my cells? What if it means I can’t reproduce? What if it don’t matter what either of us wants? What if neither of us can physically have children?”

                God. All this time and he’d been thinking this. It’d been floating at the back of his mind like a virus, and he’d never said a thing. She remembered the long nights believing she’d never be able to have children, how much agony it had caused her back then. Now, even if she couldn’t say she’d fully come to terms with the idea of being sterile, not fully, she’d come a long, long way towards it. And she knew he still had a long journey to go down that path towards acceptance.

                “Remy,” she said, hardly knowing what to say herself, “darlin’… if neither of us can have kids, and that’s what we decide we want, we can always adopt…”

                “That’s not the point, Anna,” he interjected. “The point is that this is my body. And someone took away control of it. To the point where I ain’t even sure if I’m even able to have a kid. I know how it feels, chere, to have your choice taken away from ya. That’s why I’d never take away yours, whether I liked what you decided or not.”

                She only really got it then – just how much it killed him to have to work with Apocalypse, to even have to be in the same vicinity as him. En-Sabah-Nur’s presence was a constant reminder of Death to him – it peered round every corner and stalked his every waking moment – probably a few sleeping ones too. Her mind was suddenly cast back to those agonising days she’d spent in that cell on Genosha… the way she’d been stripped of all her defences, of all the meagre autonomy she’d managed to hold over her body. It had been one of the most terrifying and life-changing moments of her life. She couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to have herself physically transformed in the way he had – especially not when she knew how much pride he took in his body, in his strength, his beauty, his poise.

                It hurt her more than she could tell to realise what he’d been going through on Krakoa, how vulnerable it must’ve made him to have to be near the man that had violated him, day in, day out.

                She leaned into him, slipped her arms round his shoulders, touched her forehead to his.

                “Oh Remy…” she whispered, “we don’t haveta go back, sugar. We don’t haveta go back…”

                He laughed weakly, ran his roughened hands up her back, making her shiver.

                “Oh beb, I ain’t gonna back down from this mission now that it’s started. And especially not after what he did to you.”

                “Pfft. I can handle myself. Honestly, I feel fine.”

                “And that makes me suspicious.”

                “Of course it does, shug. You’re suspicious of everythin’. I just want ya to know – I’ve got your back. Now that we’re on the same page… I’ve got ya back.”

                He grinned.

                “And I’ve got yours, beb. Always.”

                She searched his face with wonder.

                “What?” he asked quizzically.

                “What’d I ever do to deserve you?”

                “That right hook you gave me when we first met? That was the moment. You’ve had me since then.”

                She laughed, long and hearty, before moving in for a kiss.

                “I love ya, sugar.”

                “I love you too, chere. No matter what. Happy anniversary.”

-END-

[rerumtechnologies]

Heart of Song and Starlight

Chapter 4: Whispers in the Hall

“I can hear your whisper and distant mutter. I can smell your damp on the breeze and in the sky, I see the halo of your violence. Storm, I know you are coming.” – Robert Fanney

It turned out dwarves took a long time to knock if they knocked at all. It was two full days and morning after Smaug's death when Bilbo was having his third helping of breakfast in the library as he read over the books on etiquette that muffled voices could be heard outside in the obstructed hallway. Bilbo hurried to the door and pulled it open. The distant sound of conversation became clear enough to understand.

The voices were speaking in Khuzdul! It could only be dwarves on the other side.

"Are you remembering those directions right, Fíli?"

A loud put-upon sigh, "Amad said the royal private rooms were on the north side of the mountain or doesn't your stone-sense work?"

"Oi! I'm not the one getting us lost!"

"At least we didn't get Irak’Adad’s sense of direction – I think it's just up ahead. This hallway’s all blocked off. Here, help me start making a path."

The voices stopped just down the hall. There were grunts and heavy clatters like rock on stone.

"Hello?" Bilbo said in Khuzdul, "Can you hear me?"

The grunting and clattering stopped.

"Did you hear that?" One of the voices asked.

"Hello?" He called again.

"Mahal's balls – hello? Who is that?"

Bilbo's heart leaped, dwarves! Actual dwarves! Talking to him! The rubble in the doorway lit up with Bilbo's reflected excitement. "Bilbo Baggins! Who is that?"

Mutters that Bilbo's ears couldn't pick up.

"What are you doing in our mountain Mister Boggins?" The rougher of the two voices asked.

"Your mountain? I'll have you know I live here, and this is my mountain!” Bilbo corrected crossly before backtracking, “And it's Baggins.”

Everything was quiet on the other side of the rubble. Bilbo was almost sorry for his outburst. Were they even still there? He was about to ask that very question aloud when one of them – the softer, Kíli, Bilbo thought – spoke, "Are you a ghost?"

There was a thump and a whispered, "Ow!"

"What if he doesn't know he's a ghost, elf-brain?"

Bilbo scoffed, "I'm not a ghost. I'm... Well, I'm not a ghost."

"Really?" Kíli asked, "You don't sound too sure about that – ow, Fee stop it!"

"I'm not a ghost!" Yavanna's sweet voice, were all dwarves this irritating? "If you would move all this rubble, you would see that."

"Well, it's going to take a while to do that, some of the columns have fallen in." Fíli explained, "We'll have to get help if we want it done faster."

"They’re never going to believe this," Bilbo heard Kíli say before their footsteps faded.

He settled in one of the library chairs to wait.

Fíli and Kíli came back less than a half-hour later with a much deeper voice muttering curses in accented Khuzdul. Bilbo jumped to his feet to stand uselessly in the blocked doorway and found himself turning red at one suggestion involving an elf and a particularly amorous boar.

"Dwalin, we're not kidding there's someone back there!" Fíli was saying.

"A ghost!" Kíli agreed.

Not this again. Bilbo groaned, "I am not a ghost!"

The cursing stopped, "Who's there?" A gruff voice, much older than the first two, asked through the stone.

Bilbo sighed, he was going to be doing this all day at this rate. "Bilbo Baggins, I live here, and who are you?"

"Live here?” The voice was abrasive and suspicious. Bilbo instantly liked it far less than Fíli’s and Kíli’s playful tones. “Didn't think anyone got left behind ‘sides the dead.”

“Well, I–”

“How old are you, Mister Baggins? Have you been here since the fall of Erebor?"

Bilbo frowned, he wanted to get some answers too, instead, he was being ignored! "Don't you know how rude it is to ask a person their age?" He would know. He'd read all of the etiquette books more than thrice and skimmed most of them that morning. One happened to be the only book on elves in the whole library. Some of the rules were rather ridiculous and certainly outdated, like changing conversation partners with every course of a meal. Imagine, interrupting a perfectly good conversation simply because the food was ready. "Would you be more or less inclined to help me if I told you I was fifteen or fifty? Now," Bilbo continued, "I'll ask again, who are you?"

Giggling could be heard down the hall. The newest dwarf huffed, obviously annoyed, "I am Dwalin son of Fundin. How did you get stuck in the royal wing?"

"I was... well, I was born here."

Silence met his words.

"Do we have an uncle we don't know about?" Kíli wondered.

"Amad would have said something wouldn't she?" Fíli asked.

They were both shushed by Dwalin's words, "Bor-born!? By Mahal. Lads, go get your uncle, tell him he can look for the bleedin' Arkenstone after we get Mister Baggins out of his mother's rooms-"

"No!" Fíli and Kíli interrupted as one and began to talk over each other.

"We can do this without Irak’Adad, can't we Dwalin?"

"He doesn't need to be bothered-"

"He'll only be mad-"

"It's only a little cave in-"

"Enough!" Bilbo blinked at the command in Dwalin's voice, he'd thought Roäc was intimidating when he was angry. The old raven had nothing on this dwarf, "What do you two know that I do not?"

Silence.

Then one of them – Fíli, Bilbo thought – began hesitantly, "We...

"Well, Amad said..." His brother said over him.

"She saw where... we might-"

"Possibly!"

"-know where the Arkenstone is..."

"Sorry to interrupt," Bilbo called, not sorry at all and very much impatient, "But is there any way to discuss this stone's whereabouts after you get me out?"

All three of them ignored him and Bilbo cursed his every wish over the years to meet a dwarf. He hadn't even met one face to face yet and they were already proving more aggravating than they were worth.

"You know where the Heart of the Mountain is?" Dwalin demanded, voice rising to a thunderous shout with every word. "The King’s Jewel! Your uncle's birthright!? And you've kept it from him!?"

"You don't understand, Dwalin, Amad made us promise not to tell," Fíli explained, tone hard with resolve.

Kíli joined in, "She told us Ugmil ’amad hid the stone in her rooms. She said not to let Irak’Adad have it until she was here."

"You know what that stone does, Dwalin. And… as much as we hate to admit it, the line of Durin is particularly susceptible to dragon-sickness." Fíli’s voice grew quiet, “Uncle’s been different the past few days in the mountain. We’ve – we’ve all been different. Dwalin… I don’t think the Arkenstone should be found yet.”

Bilbo listened to all this intently, thinking through the books he'd read, the stories he'd been told. Dragon-sickness? Arkenstone? He'd never heard of such things. The ravens had never spoken of them. Neither were mentioned in any of the books in his library. He certainly had never felt sick and he'd lived next to a slumbering dragon his whole life. Perhaps it was a dwarf affliction?

Dwalin was speaking again, "When did you two become so wise, then?"

"Oh, I don't know," Fíli drawled.

"Somewhere between nearly being dinner for trolls and prisoners of elves?" Kíli chuckled. Bilbo's eyes widened, his irritation falling away. Elves? Trolls!? He must get them to tell him about their journey. What a story that would be!

"I'd say you'll both make great dwarves," Dwalin said gruffly.

Bilbo waited, was about to call to remind them that after fifty or so years of waiting he'd very much like to explore the rest of the mountain, when Dwalin yelled out, "Wait there, Mister Baggins, shouldn't take us more than some four or five hours to clear a path."

Their voices changed to grunts and the sound of stones shifting again. Bilbo stepped back from the doorway, excitement making his toes curl and his skin shine.

He wrung his hands. He couldn't just stand there like a fool waiting to be rescued - if one could be rescued from their own home - he should do something! "Oh dear," he mumbled, glancing about the library and realizing he hadn't cleaned since Smaug had awoken days before. Books were pulled from the shelves and stacked haphazardly on chairs and tables. And he was still in his nightgown! He couldn't take visitors like this. His first visitors! (The ravens didn't count, being family of course.)

Bilbo rushed around, getting dressed in one of the better waistcoat and trousers he'd made, making his bed and putting the pile of books by the armchair away. He did the dishes and cleaned the ashes from the fire. He was just taking a break to have a snack when a terrible thought occurred to him.

He ran into the library to open the door again, so he could ask, "Pardon me, but have you had anything to eat? Only I was going to make myself some lunch, and I realized – well, you’ve been traveling, haven’t you? And–"

"Eat?"

"Has he got food in there?"

"Of course, he's got food, he's been livin' in there for ages, Fee."

"How d'you know it's been ages?"

“Well, he wasn’t born yesterday.”

Dwalin answered over Fíli and Kíli's chatter, "No. We've had nothing but broth and stew on our journey."

"And cram."

"Cram's not food. It’s more of a chewing exercise."

"At least it's not lembas bread."

"I'd take lembas bread over cram any day."

"Quiet!" Dwalin cut them off.

Bilbo wrung his hands. They sounded starved! He thought fast, "I'm afraid I don't have much, vegetables and fruit mostly but I can ask the ravens to bring in my traps."

"Ravens?"

"Traps?"

"That... would be helpful," Dwalin stuttered out, "Thank you."

"Did Dwalin just say thank you?"

"To a ghost no less."

"Back to work, both of you!"

"How much longer do you think it'll be?" Bilbo asked them, calculating preparation and cook times in his head.

"Another two hours at most, Mister Boggins." Fíli responded cheerfully.

Bilbo nodded to no one in particular, that should be just enough time if the ravens were quick about it. Closing the door, he pulled out one of the more used cookbooks he had. Pheasant and potatoes. And perhaps some boiled carrots. That should be a nice change for them. He wouldn't make any bread, as his wheat wasn't meant to be harvested until spring, and he only had so much flour left to last him. And they'd said they were sick of bread anyway. Bilbo was curious to know what lembas bread was - there wasn't a recipe in his collection for that. He went out to the garden to pull up the sweet potatoes and carrots and wait for a raven to fly past.

Roäc hadn't been back since they were told of Smaug's demise and no ravens had joined him since Käric had left him after dinner yesterday. Dirac hadn’t been to visit in… nearly a week before that, actually. Bilbo wondered where she’d been, and if she’d known the dwarves were coming. He had the sneaking suspicion she had. How could she not have, flying ‘round Mirkwood and Esgaroth for gossip as she did? But if she had known, why not come to Bilbo?

As though his thoughts had conjured her, Dirac came around from the east just as Bilbo was finishing collecting the greens to take them inside.

"Dirac! Where have you been? So much has happened! Do you have any news about the dwarves?" He followed the raven as she winged in to land on his headboard, talons digging into the wood. It had been odd to see neither Dirac nor Roäc every day. But, he supposed, dwarves returning to Erebor and a slain dragon were just a tad more pressing than updating Bilbo, who could do nothing from his rooms.

"There are thirteen dwarves in the mountain,” Dirac divulged warily. “One of them is Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain."

Bilbo nearly dropped the basket, his fingers were so shaky with excitement, "King Under the Mountain? Really?"

Dirac hopped to the end of the bed to watch Bilbo wash the vegetables. "Do you need the traps?"

"Please, pheasant or quail if you can find it, or as many rabbits as you can bring back." Bilbo offered her a few seeds he kept in a bowl by the basin. She took them eagerly, careful not to gouge his soft hands.

"I will be back." She glanced non-too subtly at the door to the hallway, "And then you will tell me why three of the thirteen are moving stones so close to your rooms."

Bilbo smiled as she flew out to the garden and off beyond the wastelands. He’d ask her about the dwarves later, tonight he was going to put it from his mind. He finished washing the potatoes and carrots then went to start a fire and set two pots to boil over it, sitting down in his armchair to peel and cut the carrots while he waited. He was halfway through the potatoes when Dirac returned with a dead pheasant dangling from her claws.

"Thank you, Dirac." She laid the dead bird on the hearth before turning curious intelligent eyes on him.

"The dwarves grow nearer."

"They do. They're... well, they said they're clearing a path so that I may get out." Bilbo glanced once at the door to the library, around the room, and back to the potatoes in his hands. Once peeled, he dumped them and the carrots into their respective pots and brought out the knives he used to skin and clean whatever game the ravens brought to him. He brought the carcass outside into the garden, Dirac following in his wake.

"Do you want to get out?" Dirac inquired.

Bilbo did not answer right away, focusing on not getting any blood or feathers on his waistcoat and trousers. "I want to see the rest of the mountain," he began, "Maybe even outside it, but I don't want to leave forever." Bilbo peeked at her, "I don't want to leave you and Roäc and the others. You are my family, and this is my home." He’d thought this same thing often since Roäc had left. He’d even fight the dwarves if they tried to force him out. As much good as that would do him.

Dirac sidled up close, and rested her sharp beak on his shoulder, "We would not let that happen, Mizimith. Roäc is far too fond of your shine to let you go."

Bilbo laughed, "Roäc said something like that, though he didn't mention my shine."

"That is because he is a silly male and an emotional old bird," Dirac scoffed before settling farther away so none of the blood got on her feathers, "I saw elves riding from Mirkwood this morning bringing a wizard with them. "They call him Mithrandir." What an elvish name for a wizard, Bilbo thought. “The elven host has reached what is left of Lake-town."

“They’re heading here? Whatever for?"

Dirac did not hide her contempt, "Riches, of course, now that the beast is slain for them, it seems they have come to claim some of Erebor's treasure."

"I wonder if I'll get to meet one," Bilbo pondered aloud, as he climbed to his feet, hands held away from his clean clothes and bloody pheasant gripped tightly. "My Sindarin is much better than my Khuzdul."

"Even your Raven-speech is better than your Khuzdul," Dirac pointed out. Bilbo flicked some blood at her in retaliation. She shrieked in outrage.

He set about cutting the good meat off the pheasant and placing it into a pan over the fire. The potatoes were done, and he took that pot off so he could mash them up properly once he was finished with the pheasant meat. The carrots needed at least another few minutes. "What of Roäc? I haven't heard from him since the dragon fell."

"Thorin Oakenshield has sent him to the Iron Hills for Lord Dáin Ironfoot. A battle is coming, and the dwarves need assistance." She spoke so casually Bilbo might have missed it if he hadn’t been paying close attention.

As it was, he nearly dropped the carcass he was holding, forgetting about it entirely to stare at Dirac, skin beginning to lighten in agitation and fear, "A battle? Dirac, why didn’t you tell me!? How soon? Do the elves and men know?"

"Why would I worry you unduly when there is nothing you could have done but fret for days?” Bilbo glared at Dirac. It was probably that same logic that kept her from telling him dwarves were on their way to the mountain. She gave her feathers a general shiver in what Bilbo thought of as a shrug, “Don’t look at me like that, Mizimith. As for the elves and men, I’m not sure if they know. It is possible this is another reason the King of the Woodland Realm rides to Erebor."

"How soon, Dirac?” Bilbo asked again. “And who are the combatants?" He carried the rest of the pheasant out to his garden and threw it over the side, as far as he could. Usually he'd have the ravens take it home or far away, so scavengers wouldn't come near his garden, but obviously, there were more important things to be taken care of.

"There's an army of orcs and goblins heading this way, set to arrive in three weeks," Dirac said somberly.

Bilbo's blood froze in his veins, and his skin brightened further, "Orcs? Goblins? But why?  What are they fighting for? Erebor?" As much as he had wanted to meet a dwarf or an elf or even a man, Bilbo had never been curious enough to wish an orc or goblin upon his mountain, or his ravens.  Roäc had told him gruesome stories of dwarvish battles against the orcs, elves gone awfully, horribly wrong through torture. Bilbo’s body gave an involuntary shudder, making the walls shiver with gold luminescence.

"Why...? For jewels and gold Mizimith! There is enough treasure in this mountain to make even the most peaceful spirit take up arms."

"That's horrible,” Bilbo mashed the potatoes with a little more force than he would normally use on the old ceramic bowl. “Death and war for a pile of shiny rocks.”

"Not all beings can resist a mountain of gold, Mizimith," Dirac chided and almost to herself added, “You are the exception.”

"Will this Dáin make it in time? How fast can an army of dwarves travel?" Bilbo put the mashed and salted potatoes next to the fireplace and pulled the carrots out of it. "How far are the Iron Hills?"

"You ask too many questions for a shiny little thing," Dirac grumbled. It was something she'd said for as long as he could remember, a teasing remark that helped soothe him now. He took measured breaths to calm himself and the fearful gleam of his skin faded away. "The Iron Hills are three days flight for an old raven like Roäc. As for the dwarves... I cannot say if they will make it in time. All we can do is hope."

"I don't like it." His mountain threatened by orcs and goblins and elves and men. It almost made him wish the dwarves had never come back. Almost. He was a selfishly curious creature at heart.

"Nor do I, Mizimith. But you should hurry with your dinner. I think the dwarves are almost upon you."

It was true, as Bilbo drained the carrots and took the fat juices from the pheasant for a gravy, he could hear mutters and curses even from the bedroom.

"Will you stay and eat, Dirac?" he asked, wiping his hands on one of the rags he had hanging by the fireplace.

She regarded him with an almost pitying tilt to her beak, "Mizimith, you are not to be left alone with strange dwarves in the mountain, especially when they are digging toward your door. Of course, I am staying."

"Right." Bilbo twisted his fingers in his lap, feeling a little bit better and glancing from carrots to potatoes to the still cooking pheasant. "I suppose there's nothing to do but wait."

Dirac shifted nervously. "Bilbo… I would ask that you do not shine in front of the dwarves."

Bilbo blinked in surprise, "Why not?" She didn’t answer, and it occurred to him, "Do you think they would hurt me because of it? Because of my light?"

"I am not sure," Dirac admitted. "Dwarves are not kind to outsiders, and at the moment they know you as nothing else. We don’t need to give them more of a reason, in any case."

"But I'm not sure I can control it, Dirac. It just... happens. I've never had to hide it before." There had been no one to hide it from.

"You must try, Mizimith. Just for now." Dirac urged, and Bilbo agreed though he still wasn't clear on why he should. Surely the dwarves wouldn't hurt him for something so inconsequential.

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(Also, idk if I’ve said this but, reblogs are not only welcome but encouraged!)

[rachelillustrates]

Okay @ragsweas I am doing the thing.

(Also tagging @ramavatarama since you liked my first reblog of this.)

Now I am of the opinion that Love starts between two people the moment they meet, even if they don't realize it yet, and takes whatever time it deems right to really build.

But I think Bilbo started to be open to it when he heard Balin tell of Thorin's backstory in the Battle of Azanulbizar (for Moria, where he earned the name Oakenshield). We don't really see him look at Thorin directly during the telling, except for two quick glances, but he obviously looks moved, in a different way than before.

And I think Thorin started to be open to it after the business with the Trolls, with Bilbo stalling for time. Yes, Gandalf had to "remind" him to be impressed by that, but when it was actually happening he caught on before anyone else and appeared super impressed and relieved at the outcome. And that was all Bilbo.

I think it's also important that they start reaching this level of regard for each other through the words of other people - they both guard their hearts so much, it makes sense that they would need some kind of bridge, a literal third party, to start getting there. To see the worth in each other to be willing to take that risk - Thorin's dealing with SO MUCH trauma, personally and generationally, and has had to put his people first every moment of his life. Bilbo has had to guard his adventurous heart, his most secret wishes, from the demands of Hobbit society - what being a Baggins, not a Took, has demanded of him. Those are HUGE walls to break down, so it makes sense to me that they have to start coming to each other sideways.

Also, when they stumble upon Rivendell after the Orc attack and Thorin goes into a minor berserker rage over the idea of approaching the Elves, when Gandalf reminds him that "the only ill will here is that which you bring yourself" - they cut to Bilbo's reaction, making quite a face. He's obviously still thinking about Thorin's situation, the history he's faced with in attempting this quest, all that inherited angst, which, to me, means that he's still wondering. Still trying to figure him out. Same throughout the scene where Elrond reads the moon runes off the map.

And then when they leave during Elrond's council, Thorin catches Bilbo looking longingly back at Rivendell, and he tells him - with authority, but also a distinct note of understanding - to keep up. Which to me, feels like he's being very compassionate about Bilbo's interest in the world, which likely applies to whatever he might be able to offer him, too, as a literal living, breathing royal and attractive piece of it (his people and the quest are obviously still foremost in his mind, but still).

So, I think that with all of that, Rivendell is where they start admitting the attraction to themselves.

Of course, Thorin's behavior with the stone-giants complicates things a little bit - when their party gets separated, and the half containing Bilbo and Kíli gets smooshed against the other rock face, we see Bilbo looking panicked as they fall towards it, and then Thorin yelling "No!!" in reaction to the apparent death of all of them - which, visually and emotionally, connects Bilbo's peril specifically to Thorin's reaction. He does yell for Kíli first when they reach them - refocused on his nephew, the survival of Durin's line - but is relieved to see them all well, theoretically including Bilbo. Except, you know, that Bilbo is dangling off the edge, and after several of his kin try to save him, Thorin himself leaps down to haul him back up. So there's fear there - he almost lost Bilbo after all, and that has to come with some BIG emotions. So he stamps those out with anger, telling him that he's been lost since he left home, that he doesn't belong with them. Which, to me, really plays like at the prospect of losing Bilbo, he realized how deeply he actually feels, and he (at the moment) does not want it. It distracts him. It puts his kin, his purpose, in danger. So he pushes the feelings and Bilbo himself away.

To which of course, Bilbo chooses to leave - taking his words extremely to heart, which makes me think that in Rivendell, in listening to Thorin defend going after his birthright, begrudgingly accept the help of people he expected to hurt him.... he must have realized it too, then, in full, even though we didn't see it. To have this strong of a reaction to one member of the party's dismissal of him (even though Thorin is the leader, Bilbo is there on Gandalf's orders, and he is still getting support from everyone else - especially Bofur, when he catches him trying to sneak off).... how can that have been anything else? AND the fact that they keep showing us that Thorin DOES wake and overhears that conversation, overhears Bilbo literally tell Bofur that they, these Dwarves, don't belong anywhere - we see him almost close his eyes at that, resigned.

There is no belonging for him, with Bilbo, either.

And everything the Great Goblin says to Thorin, about his lack of a throne, about him being nobody, serves both to reinforce the idea that his place as Durin's heir absolutely comes before his feelings, and remind him that, throneless, homeless, he has "nothing" to offer Bilbo, after all.

Which of course all comes to a head when they escape the caves - Bilbo isn't there, and Nori saw him slip off. So, in anger, in continuing to restablish the worldview he's always relied on (in the face of unexpected, inconvenient love), Thorin claims that Bilbo's thought of nothing but his warm hearth and warm bed etc. etc. since he joined them, and must have abandoned him them. Which makes his decision to stomp out his feelings valid, right? If Bilbo was never going to accept the quest, accept the good things the adventure has to offer, then he was never going to accept or want Thorin either. BUT THEN, of course, hearing him say that, Bilbo rallies, and chooses to rejoin them. He could have run off after all, but he stays.

No, I am here. I am equal to this task. Equal to you.

Also, can we just..... Thorin specifically asks him why he came back - demands to know, in front of everyone!!! That's a very emotionally telling thing - and he asks it so softly, but firm. There is vulnerability there. He allows himself that, after all he's done to crush his own feelings. And Bilbo tells him that yes, he's right, he misses his home - but knows they, Thorin (who he keeps looking at, more than the others. WAY more), don't/doesn't have one. So he means to help. Really being there, seeing their plight and showing up for it in full, really for the first time. And yes, the words of this are aimed in answer to what he said to Bofur when he tried to sneak off. But he's saying it to Thorin. He means it to Thorin, above the others.

And then Thorin nods, and they stare at each other a little bit too long, and Bilbo snaps back awkwardly to look at everyone else. So here, I think, they both start to believe that their feelings might be reciprocated.

Especially, considering that when Thorin confronts Azog mere moments later, Bilbo is one who leads the charge - not knowing if the others were gonna follow him, even - literally bullrushing the Orc who is about to behead Thorin, taking his life, his literal first kill, in Thorin's defense. Which, sure, he would have still helped if it were anyone else. But that is some intense, character-changing behavior there, sir, especially since you just chose to spare a life like two scenes ago (very different context, but still).

And as the Eagles rescue them, after Fíli calls out to Thorin, trying to determine if he's still alive, we see Bilbo worrying over that potentiality, too. They make sure to show us that, on top of everything. AND the fact that after Gandalf (again, mythical being driving the quest), Bilbo is the first one to rush to Thorin's side - and the first thing Thorin says upon coming back to consciousness, literally the first thing, is "The Halfling...?" Making sure we knew that he knew that Bilbo had saved him, and was worried about his safety, over everything else that he could/should have been worrying about in the face of the attack - his kin in general, Kíli and Fíli, where the fuck they all are now in terms of where they're supposed to be, etc.

And then, of course, he reacts to his own rescue in concern for Bilbo. That he could have gotten himself killed. Only to turn that into the hug, the most intimate touch we've seen him give any of them all movie, even his nephews, his relatives (I might be wrong about that, and if I am please correct me, but I think I'm right). And the way he keeps looking at him after, including when he calls the thrush a good omen while looking at Bilbo (who remains right by his side as they climb the rock's peak to see the mountain better), all softness and unbridled happiness and pride.

Yeah. He knows what's up. And I think Bilbo is beginning to know its mutual, here, too, though they haven't discussed it yet.

Of course, with the realization that they can see the mountain, focus snaps back to the quest - but triumphantly, together. And I think if all had gone to plan, Thorin would have started officially courting Bilbo after they retook the mountain and his throne, his people, was/were secure. Was probably low-key planning on that at this point. Add to that the fact that they live in an assumedly queerphobic, or at least aggressively heterocentric, culture (based on what we get from JRRT, from the time period he was writing in, and the fact that the filmmakers did nothing to change that in either this trilogy or LotR), I think moving forward, they're likely not gonna get to say much to each other at all, to establish how they feel, yet. And I look forward to writing about that as I rewatch the next two.

But I digress.

Tl,dr: they started to fall in love, be open to it, after Balin's account of the Battle of Azanulbizar (Bilbo), and the situation with the Trolls (Thorin), realized their own feelings in Rivendell - Bilbo in full, but Thorin, just his attraction then, only to really know it was love after the stone-giants. And they both became relatively sure their affections were returned after the escape from the Goblins, with Bilbo choosing to return/stay with the party.

Okay honestly though...

What was the moment Thorin and Bilbo fell in love.? Like, yeah, the hug was a pivotal moment and they were married throughout desolation of Smaig but when did they fall in love??? At Bag End? In Rivendell??? When????

[special-agent-fiction]

The Promise - Chapter 10

Pairing: Reader x Thorin Oakenshield (Slow Burn aka Friends First)

Summary: Taken in by the Durin’s when she was a child, Eleonóra has lived through it all; the glory of Erebor, Smaug, the journey to Erid Luin and now a Quest to reclaim the hallowed halls stolen from them so many years ago. With a promise to a dying princess to fulfill she will do anything to keep her boys, all of them, safe from whatever lies ahead on the road to their lost homeland.

Warnings: None.

Chapter 10 - Reflections

The sun was still low in the sky as the front door of a small but treasured home opened and a bleary-eyed dwarf flinched at the creak he had never been able to get rid of as the hinge stretched to 90°. He stared out across the still sleeping village they had called home for some years now and let a deep inhale fill his lungs with the bone cold chill of dawn air.

Behind him, inside the house, a pair of footsteps were wandering around checking the contents of their kitchen cupboards and the amount of firewood they had left before pausing and letting the silence of the house fall over them again.

He’d already secured their packs to the saddles of two ponies he’d spent the last week sourcing and all that was left to do was mount them and they’d be off. He didn’t press her though, knew that she needed the next few minutes to talk herself into walking out through this door and not just lock it and go back to bed; back to the life they’d lived for so long. So he simply stood and watched the pair of ponies softly kick their hooves and let their shaggy manes be tousled by the wind.

“Beautiful creatures.” He almost jumped at the proximity of her voice now and turned his head slightly to meet her eyes as she too watched the creatures. “Vanners?”

“Aye.” It had been a pain to find them, but it was going to be a long journey and he knew how much she admired the beasts with their flowing hair and feathering around their ankles. “Are you ready?” He asked, trying not to push her but his eyes kept flicking to the horizon and the hours they’d be losing if they didn’t leave soon.

“Perhaps I should stay with them.” She mumbled, her eyes still on the ponies. “Perhaps this is a mistake.”

“You’ve spent a year writing back and forth with the Dwarf Lords; to not turn up now would be-”

“Rude.” She sighed, finishing for him. “I know.” He felt her fingers curl into his palm as she silently made her decision. “They are grown.” She said aloud as if trying to remind herself of that fact. “They are adults.”

“You clearly didn’t just see Kili fall out of bed.” He felt the corners of his lips prick up at the new voice behind him and the mass of blonde hair that swept past him as she twirled to face two even sleepier dwarves, still in their nightclothes with small smiles on their faces. “Didn’t really think we’d let you go without a proper goodbye, did you?” Fili asked as Kili rubbed at his eyes. Grown men indeed.

“You should be in bed.” Ellie told them, her attempt at a scold pointless when paired with her loving smile. “You both have work today.”

“We can man the forge with our eyes closed.” Kili mumbled, a dopey smile now on his features. “Don’t worry about us.”

Ellie laughed lightly. “I will spend my life worrying about you two.” She stepped forward and pressed a kiss to each of their brows and Thorin found himself wondering exactly when his boy nephews had grown as tall as him. “Thank you for coming down.”

“Safe travels.” Fili said mirroring her actions and pressing his lips to her own brow.

“Don’t fret about us.” Kili grinned also kissing her. “We are perfectly capable of putting out any and all fires that we accidently set.”

“Ki-” Thorin stepped in and took her by the shoulders, cutting her off as he steered her back to the door and shot his youngest nephew a classic Durin scowl of non-amusement at his poor joke.

“Write when you get there!” Fili called out as Ellie planted her right foot into a stirrup and Thorin grasped his nephew’s forearms in farewell. “We’ll be fine!” He assured her, and the three men watched as she pulled herself into the saddle, the side splits of her longline tunic parting to reveal her riding breeches and boots, and the wind ruffling her hair to reveal the woman that had traversed mountain passes on foot in the search for a new home for her folk.

Thorin felt the hand on his wrist tighten and pull him from the sight of her; the woman who had saved his people, saved his kin and raised his heirs. “Look after her.”

He met Kili’s eyes with a raised brow and let out a soft laugh. “If you think your aunt needs anyone to look after her, you’re sorely wrong my boy.” He released his nephew with a knowing smile. “Besides, I’ve watched her back since before you were born.” He crossed to the horse and mounted with ease. “And she mine.”

Seeing them before they left had seemed to do the job and they were out of the town and into the open grasslands of Middle Earth without even a glance back, though he knew for a fact that both of his nephews would be stood on their doorstep watching them until they had vanished for sight. The though made him smile deeply.  

If there was one thing he treasured more than anything else, it was the relationship between his heirs and the woman who had raised them. His mind skipped back through the years and he let himself settle into the saddle with memories of red faces on everyone as one of them slipped up and called Ellie ‘amad’. She had simply smiled sadly at them and carried on with whatever she was doing and that was why he adored her; she had never tried to take Dis’ place. Both Fili and Kili had grown up with a sketch of their mother at their bedsides and the knowledge of who she was how she loved them so in their hearts.

He knew this was hard on her; it was the first time since Dis had died that she’d been separated from them and it must be tearing at her as it had torn at him those handful of years ago when he had first returned to Erid Luin. He had spent the whole journey wondering what they were doing and if they had enough firewood as the snows came in. His family were everything to him and that’s exactly why he’d brought her with him this time.

It had been a lifetime since she had left the mountain range and after so long spent moulding two boys into men, she deserved a break; deserved to have something more in her life now they were grown. And so he hadn’t hesitated when, on his last visit, her name had been brought up as well as her family knowledge of dealing with rare gems and a request had been penned for her to visit Erid Luin and cast her eye over a batch of emeralds of questionable origin.

They were making good time now, he realised as he shook himself from his thoughts and scanned the environment around them. He anticipated that only one-night need be spent under the stars and they’d reach the mountains with the sun still high.

Glancing over to her he saw that she too seemed to be lost in her mind and wondered what she was reliving; the trek to the mountains when they were exhausted and on foot after the journey from Moria, or the rickety wagon ride back down these paths as they escaped the ghosts of their past?

The ride into Erid Luin had been as heart wrenching as she’d expected it would be. Nothing had changed, not really. There were a few faces she couldn’t place a fresh coat of paint on some doors but otherwise, it was the same.

When they had entered the mountain metropolis, barely any dwarf had noticed their presence and that fleeting moment of nothingness had given her enough time to glance to Thorin and allow his soft, worry-filled smile to settle her. A quick, almost imperceptible nod of her head to tell him she was fine had been the kindling to the fire that was recognition in these halls.

A heartbeat later and crowds had formed around their steeds with people calling out for their King and trying to shuffle into lines to allow them through. She watched Thorin from the corner of her eye and felt a real smile grace her lips as he changed before her; gone was the man worried over how she would handle returning here, the man who she knew hadn’t let his eyes close for their longed-for rest last night until she herself had settled and in his place, was a King.

Back straight and a benevolent smile on his face, Thorin pushed his horse forwards and soon they were slowly winding their way through the mountain, side-by-side, with their people calling out for them. And in that moment, she knew Thorin had been right to tell her to come; to tell her that this was as much her duty as two Dwarven Princes were. He knew that that one word was enough to get her involved; duty.

In Erebor it had been her duty to keep Dis out of trouble and then it had been her duty to keep the family business running. Her entire life had revolved around duty; to her family, to the people of Erebor…to Thorin. And now her duty was to herself; to forge a place for herself here in this community she had abandoned in her grief.

They had managed without them; the bustling markets and boom in numbers was evidence enough of that but they were entering a new age now; one of actual prosperity as they not only survived but thrived. The people of Erebor in the halls of Erid Luin were talked about through the land; their craftsmanship unparalleled and their story of triumph beguiling. But prosperity meant that things needed to be dealt with. More trade meant better deals were needed and better deals required someone with actual experience of governance.

She and Thorin had learnt together all those years ago when worries of his grandfather had been his every other thought and now they were to put their knowledge gained in the library of Erebor to actual use. Thorin would deal with ruling his people; making decisions about new laws and planning the future of this community and she would negotiate trade deals. It was a role she was born to do as she’d proved in her letters to the other Dwarf Lords of Erid Luin and now she was ready to see all she had written put into practice.

They reached the end of the Erebor settlement with relative ease and as they waited at the cavernous doors to the epicentre of the Blue Mountains she knew this was exactly what Mahal had planned for them both; a trial of strength followed by an age of peace. It was what the people deserved. It was what they deserved.

“No, I’m sorry but that is completely unacceptable! As requests go this is by far the most ridiculous and I for one-”

Ellie stifled a yawn as she tuned out the ranting Dwarf stood opposite her and instead let herself relax into the padding of the high-backed chair she’d commandeered the first day she’d been led to this council chamber. This room, much like the rest of this part of the Blue Mountains was carved entirely from the crystal core that the rocky landscape had formed around. From the hallways to the bedrooms to the kitchens, every room emitted a mystical light blue glow from the rock-hard walls and floors and despite the beauty of it all, she found the cold surface to be an excellent indicator of the type of people who dwelled in the heart of this mountain range.

The Dwarf Lords had declared this area of outstanding beauty and craftmanship their home almost immediately after first settling here and carving it out. The onyx black doors that separated it from either end of the range had promptly been erected and to this day, sealed off these crystal corridors from the rest of the Dwarves in Erid Luin.

Ellie wondered if that was half the reason they seemed so unaware of what the people around them actually needed from rulers. She eyed the platter of food that had sat primly in the centre of the round table that filled the room distastefully as she recalled how every time they adjourned it would be removed and wasted after being picked and sniffed at by haughty Dwarves.

She was tired of the ones surrounding her at present. Tired of them always arguing with her and dismissing her opinions and beliefs on the grounds that she was a woman.

“And another thing; should someone who lost their treasure the last time around really be negotiating to build up another reserve? I mean, it is one thing for a deposed King to seek a fortune, but a woman with no actual ties to the throne?” He scoffed. “I think we can all agree that-”

“I tire of your tirade…my Lord.” She said, hands clasped in front of her as her elbows rested on the chair arms and fought a grin at the affronted huff he gave at the pause in addressing him by title (she was going to get in all the kicks she could, even if they were thinly veiled and childish). “And I would remind you that I did not come here for your opinion on whether or not I am a suitable representative of my people, that is for my King to decide, not you.”

The old man simply stared at her, eyeing her relaxed pose with disdain and she felt the corners of her lips try and pull into a smile as he again let his gaze wander over her outfit. She had elected to wear the exact opposite of what they’d been expecting of her and knew that the fur trimmed duster jacket she wore over a Durin blue shirt and skin-tight breeches tucked into boots was more than off-putting for the stuck-in-their-ways men.

“Now…” She unclasped her hands and gestured to the open pad in front of her. “…would you care to answer the question I actually asked? Or would you prefer to waste another hour of our precious time?”

“I…”

“I’ll remind you.” She pushed a single sheet of paper forward. “My people want mining rights; will you grant them?”

“The people of Erebor have never been denied the opportunity to work in the mountain’s many mines.” A different man piped up, the half-moon glasses that had sat on his nose for the duration of the meeting, as he read through the various pieces of paper in front of him, now in his hand as he met her gaze. “Mining rights are a…” He waved the glasses around as he tried to think of way of phrasing it. “…non-topic.”

She forced a sweet smile. “I disagree, my Lord.” She slid forward to perch on the edge of her seat. “My people were promised a replica of their homeland when they settled here. Working for people who don’t understand their traditions and methods is not a replica.”

“You mean working for people who were granted these prosperous mines by Mahal himself is no longer enough for wandering Dwarves who were generously gifted land by the very men you now condemn?”

“I think, Sir, that you are not so much affronted by the fact that I am asking for rights, as you are by the fact that the Lords above you; those who meet with my King and not a lowly Ambassador, elected to grant land against your advice?”

The room fell silent at her words and she took the opportunity to slide another sheet forward into the dead centre of the table.

“A copy…” She told them. “…of the land agreement written when my people arrived. It clearly states that we are entitled to bring matters such as this to the councils for debate.” She met each of their gazes. “I have another question for you all.” She slid back and let her palms meet again. “How much did goods from the Blue Mountains sell for before the Erebor settlement?”

“An impossible figure to calculate.” The Lord opposite her sniffed, his derision rolling off him in waves.

“I’ll simplify it then.” She smiled. “Did they retail for more or less before the Erebor settlement? Before the quality of the work increased tenfold?” She paused to allow one of them to answer and felt her smile deepen at their uncomfortable shifting. “And if I now inform you that my incredibly talented people are more than happy to suspend work for…fifty years? That would cripple you.”

“They can’t suspend working!” One dwarf exclaimed as she sat back and let them explode around her with various cries of; “Who do you think you are?!” and “Throw them all out!” filled the air.

“If they don’t work their own families will starve.” Her main opposition said, his calm tone cutting through the room like a knife. All eyes were back on her.

“My people were desperate but not stupid when we accepted your gift.” She told them. “All these years of buying cheap metal and ore from mines who deemed them worthless has led to a substantial stockpile. We have gold. We have gems. It’s the stuff you were willing to throw away. My people can survive for quite some time just by taking their coppers down into the realms of Men…can yours?”

Thorin hated the politics of ruling. Hated how he had to explain every little motivation he had for trying to help his people continue to thrive to a room full of people who had never even seen a mountain mine.

He wondered how Balin had kept a cool head all these years and had not simply told the Dwarf Lords to imrid amrâd ursul? The older man was infinitely better at this than he and was probably the only reason they’d actually achieved anything since he arrived.

He thought back to his most recent meeting and grimaced slightly at the turn it had taken. He and Ellie had discussed at length what their priorities were for this first diplomatic event between them and the other Lords and mining rights had been prominent in their minds even before meeting with Balin and the man detailed the conditions their people were working in under the unexperienced eyes of Erid Luin Dwarves.

“And when was the last time you were down a mineshaft, Your Grace?” Thorin felt himself bristle at the sneering tone of the man in front of him and channelled every calming influence he could to avoid reaching across and driving his face into the table surface.

“Two days ago.” He said, watching smugly as the eyes in the room widened slightly. “Lady Eleonóra and I ventured down one of your own actually, my Lord.” He flashed him a smile. “And were shocked by what we found.”

“Who gave you permission to-”

“As a Dwarf Lord and King of a territory within this range, I think you’ll find I’m free to inspect anything I think may be endangering lives…which you are by the way.”

“I-”

“And so I put to you; when was the last time you were at the rock face and not sat here filling your own?”

Yes, Balin had definitely had to smooth a few ruffled feathers after that one. But it seemed to have worked and new regulations for mine owners was being drafted at this very moment. All he needed now was for Ellie to waltz through the door with an agreement for their people to own and run their own mines and a large chunk of what they’d set out to achieve would be done.

His lips stretched into a smile as at that very moment the doors to the suite of rooms he’d been allocated, burst open and frightened half to death the group of Ambassadors Balin had elected through the years.

“And?” He drawled, craning his neck to watch her sashay in, a very smug grin firmly on her lips.

“The paperwork will be delivered to you before tomorrows feast.” She told him, laughing at the cheers the rest of her colleagues let out from their scattered positions through the sitting room.

“A fine job, lass.” Balin grinned from the seat next to him. “Not that I ever doubted you.” He added, a twinkle in his eye as she wandered over to them and sunk beside him onto the settee.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Balin. Smart move hoarding all that gold.”

“They’ve refused to even meet with us for an entire year on the matter and you settle it in three days?” A dwarf on the other side of the room commented as all eyes remained on the trio in the centre of the room. “You must have magical powers.” He added, impressed. “The Dwarf Lords will be offering us diamonds to have you on their side.”

Ellie laughed before batting her eyelashes at Thorin. “My beloved King would never sell me.”

He hummed his agreement as he signed his name to the document in his hands. “Not for a few measly diamonds anyway.”

There was a beat of silence and he knew the dwarves around them had stopped all their actions to wait and see her reaction. Convention states that she should bow her head and realise her place beside a King, but they were much more than King and subject and-

“Rukhs shirumundu.”

“Namin men burk.”

She winked at him. “Yamal.” And he wondered if she knew the effect she still had on him? Wondered if she knew just how much his pulse quickened at the sight of her? Wondered when he would work up the nerve to ask her such things?

He had spent the day alternating between reading over the agreement Ellie had finished hashing out this very morn and pacing through his rooms. He’d dismissed the rest of his Ambassadors a few hours earlier under the pretence of readying themselves for the feast being thrown in his honour.

He didn’t want to go. Didn’t want to make the journey to the ballroom full of people who thought themselves more important that anyone else. Didn’t want to be a part of the whole damn thing.

Pacing had resumed quickly after he’d dressed in the fine robes the Lords had gifted him for this very event and he’d paid little attention to what had been laid out for him but now, after his gaze had been snagged by the long length mirror in his bedchamber he could scarcely identify the man who was staring back at him.

It was not someone he’d seen for a long time. A lifetime, even.

The Durin blue was the only familiar thing about his reflection; the colour having played a prominent role in his life even after Erebor. He often wore a shirt of this colour to work and it was dotted through their home back in the lands of Men, with both Kili and Fili decked in this shade for anything remotely important as a reminder of who they were and where they came from. He’d even been wearing it here, the colour infinitely warmer than the cool blue the mountain heart was carved of and he found comfort in seeing it on all his Ambassadors though their jerkins and jackets and shirts.

So it was not the richness of the colour that startled him. Nor how calm his hair looked; the twin beads he wore either side of his face another common thing in his daily attire as well as the neatly trimmed beard. He fingered the beads lightly; their presence another reminder of home as he thought of the brothers they’d left there both wearing identical copies of the silver stamped ‘D’ through their own unkempt hair.

Even his robes were comforting. They were a familiar style to those he had worn in Erebor and he was not unfamiliar with the close fit of his doublet and soft fur trim on his jacket.

Individually, each component was simple; pieces that he knew and identified easily. But together? He could still feel the momentary stop of his heart as he’d caught a glimpse of a path his life may once have taken. He saw a King.

The creaking of a door caught his attention and he turned to face it. He felt his mouth dry at the sight that stepped though it and found himself mentally reminding his lungs to inhale and exhale and not just lie dormant.

“I still think improvements can be made.” He glanced to the paper in her hands and chuckled softly at her furrowed brow as she re-read the agreement.

“You just want to take all you can from them because they said you weren’t good enough.”

She sighed and dropped her hands, the paper brushing against her skirts. “Is that petty of me?”

“Incredibly.” She rolled her eyes at him and set the sheet down before crossing the living space to linger in the doorway of his bedchamber.

“What’s the matter with you?” She asked, eyeing his position at the mirror. “Can’t get you hair right?” She teased. “Or is it too perfect and you’re worried they’ll think you care about tonight?”

“I always air on the side of perfect.” He shrugged, trying to stop his eyes from roaming over her. He was failing.

He’d seen her in dresses many times before. In Erebor she’d always been in one and she’d worn them here and in the town too. But tonight was different. Tonight, she was as she’d never been before.

The blue, while identical to his own in shade, was riddled with silver thread which shone with every step she took as she moved from the doorway, reminding him of the paths shooting stars left behind as they raced overhead. It was simple, and he loved her for it; the silhouette was standard and though she showed no skin below her collarbone, she was a vision and more tempting than if she’d stood before him in nothing but a wisp of tulle.

“You’re beautiful.” He managed to say and felt a rush of pride at the light blush that spotted on her cheeks as she smoothed out the material fanning at her waist.

“I’d forgotten how talented maids are.” She said, stepping closer to him. “The things they can do with a brush of powder and a handful of pins puts me to shame.”

“No.” He reached out and took one of her hands in his own, tugging her closer to him and preventing her from prodding at the coiled bun resting low on the back of her neck. “You always look beautiful.”

“Thorin-”

“For the first time since Smaug attacked we are truly alone.” He told her, gesturing around them. “Our people are safe, Dis is gone and the boys are grown.”

“Why are you saying this?”

“I’ve never had the chance to thank you.” He told her. “Not for everything you’ve done since Smaug but…before…with my grandfather and-”

“Thorin you don’t-”

He held up a hand to silence her and smiled softly at the power that one gesture seemed to have over her. perhaps he looked more of a King than he’d realised. “Thank you isn’t the only thing I’ve neglected to say.” He told her, his thumb brushing over the jewelled rings that had been slid onto her fingers by her maids. “Ellie, I…I…” He dropped her hand and cursed lightly under his breath. “In Erebor you were the only one who ever treated me like a person, not a Prince. And you gave so much of yourself so willingly to anyone who asked. You pulled my sister from her shell, made my father laugh, taught my brother a few hard lessons in the training yard and…you were there for me when I tried to shoulder a realm on my own.” He met her searching eyes. “Is it any wonder that you were the only girl to hold my heart?”

“Thorin…”

“But you’re a woman now and my family had asked so much more of you that I would not begrudge you if you didn’t feel the same, but I need to know; I have to know if you-”

He hadn’t felt her hand bunch in his jacket. Hadn’t seen her step closer. Hadn’t realised her intentions of shutting his babbling up. But he felt her lips on his and let a soft exhale of relief out through his nose as one hand gripped at her waist and pulled her closer as the other cupped her jaw softly; their mouths hungry for lost years and dampened feelings.

As they broke apart for air he felt a true smile of sheer happiness settle on his lips as they simply stared at each other.

“Varak, demup vel rumush kardun.” She breathed. “Men kemgu dolzekh menu, Thanu men.”

Thorin smiled down at her, the Khuzdul flowing effortlessly off her lips and into his heart as his eyes were once again caught by the mirror. It again showed him something he was shocked to find; a man with lightness in his heart and his love in his hold.

He saw a King and Queen.

Khuzdul to English Translations:

Imrid amrâd ursul – die a death of flames (basically; burn in hell)

Rukhs shirumundu – beardless orc

Namin men burk – kiss my axe

Yamal – with pleasure

Varak, demup vel rumush kardun – loyalty, honour and a willing heart

Men kemgu dolzekh menu, Thanu men – I accept your thanks, my King

External Links:

Dress inspiration: here and here (both from Ziad Nakad’s 2017 A/W collection)

Tag List (feel free to request a tag):

@evyiione 

And a huge thank you to both @evyiione and @pixierox101 for their kind words and enthusiastic feedback the likes of which I have never experienced. 

[carmineharry]

In One Piece: part two

He took her chin between his fingers and and leaned down to place his lips on hers. Her eyes widened in shock before pulling back, shrieking “What do you think you’re doin’?!”

“Kissin’ yeh.” He smirked.

“Sorry, bu’ I don’ feel like kissin’ yeh right now,” she frowned.

“Le’ me make it up to yeh, please.” He rested his forehead against hers, “Please, sweetheart.”

or

Alex upsets his girl and tries to make it up to her.

WARNING: SMUT

“Don’ know wha’ Y/N was thinkin’ when she agreed to marry yeh, silly girl tha’ one. Silly as can be. But a cunt?” Alex growled, veins protruding all over as his grip tightened on the squirming prick he had pinned to the wall. “She’s jus’ no such thing, mate,” he pulled Thomas’ body forward before slamming it into the ivy covered brick again, evoking a low groan from him.

Y/N sat fidgeting in her seat across from him. She didn’t really know what to say, or how to say it. She just knew it needed to be said. “What’s this about?” Thomas asked. He was smiling, she could hear it in his voice, but she looked any and everywhere but his eyes. “Y/N?” He asked once more, the smile dissipating from his voice.

She toyed with ring upon her left fourth finger, twisting it back and forth and so before finally slipping it off. She placed it gently on the table between them before saying, “I can’ marry you.”

His head straightened up tall and floored by her statement. “‘Scuse me?”

“I can’ marry you, Thomas. My heart isn’ in it,” she answered.

“So where is your heart, then?” He asked, though he already knew the answer. “Funny yeh say this considerin’ I know yeh saw Alex yesterday.” He bit his bottom lip, teasing his tongue with the taste of blood.

“‘M truly sorry, I am. It’s jus’ not fair to do this to ourselves.” She reasoned.

He sat there for a few moments, trying to soak up her words, syllable by syllable. “Why’d yeh even say yes?” He laughed, but there was an unsettling look in his eye.

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell you no-,” she said, but was interrupted by the fierce rise in his voice.

“Bullshit!” He cracked. “Don’ put this on me! Yeh made me believe yeh wanted this, made me believe yeh wanted me!  Lead me by a bloody leash, you did!” His chest palpated dangerously fast, anger fueling his every action.  “You’re a right cunt fo’ tha’!” He picked up his water glass, slamming it against her dining wall and watching it shatter to pieces. She flinched at the ear-splitting sound, hands subconsciously flying up to hold her head.

She was on fire, burning with rage and fear. “We wen’ out together on dates! Never up until that point had I professed some deep and undyin’ love for yeh that would’ve made you go and propose! Tha’ was on you!” She spat. “I enjoyed your company, bu’ yeh had to rush it!” Y/N hadn’t ever been so hostile in her life. She’d like to think of herself as a generally calm and collected person. But this? This pushed her over the line. Who did he think he was?

Thomas’ back was to her as he rocked himself back and forth on the counter. He was taut with fury, practically steaming at the ears. “This isn’ about how I rushed it, Y/N! It has nothin’ to do with tha’ and everythin’ to do with Alex, I’m no’ stupid!” He slammed his fists onto the counter.

“Yeh know wha’? You’re right. I love Alex. I loved him before you, durin’ you, and now, an’ I’m sorry fo’ hurtin’ you, but I can’ help who my heart wants!”  Y/N cried.

“So what’d yeh do? Did yeh kiss him? Did yeh shag him? Huh?! Answer me!” He roared, shaking Y/N to the very core. “Be’ yeh did. “

“‘M not really sure what you’re implyin’ but-,”

“I’m sayin’ you’re a whore! A blimey slag!” Thomas growled, finger pointed inches away from her face.

“Ge’ out.” She whispered.

“Oh, wha’? Can’ face wha’ you’ve done-,”

“I said get out! Get ou’ of my house!”  Y/N bellowed. Her whole body was jolting with adrenaline and she feared she might pass out from the unforgiving anger she felt. Thomas shook his head, scoffing out a laugh before kicking the chair out of his way and slamming the door on his way out to prove his point. She felt bad, terrible even, for hurting him, for angering him. Though she couldn’t say she wasn’t a bit relieved, he was quite unnerving when he was bothered and upset. She cradled her head in her hands as she silently shook with cries. Y/N never handled other’s anger well. She hated when people would let their emotions get the better of them, especially when she was the cause.

She sat for a while before sucking it up and wiping her tears and grabbing the bin to clean up the shards of glass. She tried to be very careful, not wanting to cut herself, but that inevitably failed when a knock and open to her front door startled her, causing the glass to cut her hand. “Dammit,” she whimpered.

“Y/N, love,” Alex called, “what’re yeh doin’?”

Alex’s hand was gripping Thomas’ jaw harshly, threatening his skin with finger-shaped bruises as he convulsed infuriatingly so. “And a whore? That was a bi’ of a stretch, too, duffer,” he kneed him in the groin, earning a cry from Thomas. “Ditzy thing sometimes, bu’ she’s a bloody angel!” Alex growled through gritted teeth. With one uppercut to the face, Thomas was on the ground in fetal position. Alex spit in his face and stormed away, stewing and brewing and flailing about.

Alex sat atop of Y/N’s bathroom sink as she cleaned the scrapes and bruises amongst his hand from his prior indiscretion with Thomas. To say Y/N was upset with Alex was an understatement. She’s didn’t really believe in violence, and while her heart swooned at the thought of him defending her, that didn’t mean she wanted him to have a back-alley brawl with her ex-fiancé. Her lips were pressed in a tight line as she bandaged the wound to prevent infection. She wouldn’t even look him in the eye, and it hurt his heart a little. “Sweetheart, please look at me,” he sighed, but she kept her eyes low. “Y/N, c’mon,” he tried again. However, she kept doting around on his knuckles and refusing to give him what he wanted. Finally, he took her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. “I think it’s clean, love, now look a’ me.”

“You’ve really upset me,” she said.

He felt his chest tighten at that. “What ca’ I do?” He pleaded.

“You’ve done enough.” Alex really wanted to fix this. He couldn’t stand the fact that she was upset with him, but she was his girl, and nobody would insult his girl. He was sorry for disappointing her, but not sorry for what he did. Thomas needed to be taught a lesson as far as Alex was concerned. He was wracking his brain trying to figure out ways to get her to forgive him, and then he it dawned on him. He took her chin between his fingers and and leaned down to place his lips on hers. Her eyes widened in shock before pulling back, shrieking “What do you think you’re doin’?!”

“Kissin’ yeh.” He smirked.

“Sorry, bu’ I don’ feel like kissin’ yeh right now,” she frowned.

“Le’ me make it up to yeh, please.” He rested his forehead against hers, “Please, sweetheart.” She bit her lip, toying with the idea in her head before locking eyes with him, signaling him the go-ahead with a subtle nod of the head.

His lips met hers sweetly, taking her breath away. She placed one hand on his chest and wrapped the other around his neck to pull him closer. His hand gripped her waist and held her securely to him. Her lips felt like velvet and he couldn’t get enough of it. Every time she’d pull away, he’d bring her even more close, savoring the sound of her labored breath and the rise and fall of her chest increasing by the second. He finally let her break away to catch her breath, but still held her just as tightly to him. She opened her eyes to find him already itching to look into hers and her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment, so she looked away. “Hey, quit lookin’ away from me,” Alex demanded. He slid off the bathroom sink and intwined his arms around her back. She strained her neck up to look at him once more and smiled graciously, placing his lips on hers once more.

The kiss was innocent to start with, but the second she threaded her fingers through his hair and tugged in delight, a fire was ignited in him. He spun her around, gently slamming her hips into the counter, eliciting a soft, squeak-like sound from her which raised every hair on the back of his neck and tickled his skin with goosebumps. He lifted her up and placed her on the counter and moved to wrap her legs around his hips. She trailed her hands down to his chest, nails lightly scratching along the way, before he jerked her hands back up to his hair. “Keep ‘em there, love,” he growled. A coil snapped within her at the sound of his voice so rough and deep that she tugged on his tresses once more just to hear the sound again.

He sunk his teeth into the plushy flesh of her skin, and she jolted from the sensation. Her head sunk deeper into the pillow the closer he approached where she ached for him. He was feeling dizzy, overwhelmed at the situation and reeling in the smell of her in the air. He moaned quietly as his mouth watered just thinking about what he was about to do. His mouth teased the crease of where her thigh met her hip and her breath wavered. He trailed kiss after kiss until his lips touched the damp spot right in the center of her cotton panties. It was then his tongue snuck from between his lips to press against her ever so slightly, and she shied away from the contact, but his hands brought her back down against his tongue. “So sweet already an’ I haven’ even taken these off yet” he groaned. He believed, with full sincerity, that she would be the death of him.

His fingers hooked inside of her knickers and yanked them down her thighs and onto the floor before spreading her legs and nesting a home between them. He spread her open with his fingers before attaching his lips and tongue to her clit, sucking and pulling and doing everything to coax a sound from her. She whimpered, though they sounded more like squeaks, and she’d be dying from embarrassment had it not just felt so good. Her hands instinctively flew to his head and reveled in the warmth of his tongue on her most sensitive spot. Her back arched and shivered and trembled with every nibble and lick, and to make matters almost more unbearable, he curved a finger inside of her. It was foreign, a bit uncomfortable at first until Alex stroked something within her, and it wasn’t anymore.

“A-Alex,” she mewled. He moaned against her, and the vibrations nearly shocked her core. Her heart was working double time to keep her body from caving in to the pleasure completely. Between the vibrations of his mouth and the stroke of his finger inside of her, it became too much to balance. Her vision was white hot as her legs tightened around his neck and shuddered so. His name was breathless on her lips and she swore nothing could compare to the feeling of his face between her thighs, even though she could never say that aloud because it nearly humiliated her with how lewd the reality of it all was.

Alex pressed one final kiss to her mound before trailing his tongue back up her body slowly, taunting her. His lips pressed to her neck causing her to shiver at the sensitivity before pressing a kiss below her eye and asking, “How was tha’?”

“Tha’ was,” she gulped, “somethin’.”

“Had to be more than jus’ somethin’, baby. Practically ripped all my hair out my head,” he giggled.

“Oh, shush,” she covered her face, mortified. Alex pried her hands away and kissed her with fervor, heart swelling with how her lips melted into his just right.

“Stop hidin’ tha’ face away from me,” he grinned.

“Then quit embarrassin’ me!”

“My god,” Alex gasped. He buried his face into her neck, biting and kissing in attempt to silence the sounds erupting from within his chest. Her nails dug into his skin in discomfort as he settled deep within her walls and she cried out. “‘M sorry, love, so so sorry. I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” he stumbled over his words.

“No,” a tear trickled down her cheek, “don’ stop, please.” He ignored her and moved to untangle her legs from around his wait, but she gripped his shoulders frantically. “Please, no! I wan’ to feel you,” she hummed.

He sunk back into her and she gripped his right hand, interlocking their fingers and squeezing it harshly. “I don’ want to hurt you,” he mumbled.

“I’m okay, promise.” It didn’t necessarily hurt her at this point, it was just uncomfortable.

“I love you, love yeh so much, petal,” he kissed her cheek. “I’ve never felt so whole in my life. Look a’ tha’,” he gently brought her head forward to look at where they joined as one, “connected, you and me.” He laid her head back down. His hips faltered to the right a little, causing her chest to press against his and she swore. His ears perked at the sound, quickly trying to repeat the movement he just made.

“Yes,” she hissed, “that’s it!”

Neither of them had ever felt anything quite like this. It wasn’t lust. No, their love overwhelmed the lust by a long shot. It wasn’t the act of getting swept up by desire. It was a commemoration of their feelings for each other. Y/N felt like her heart could burst at any moment at the sound of Alex’s sweet nothings and praises in her ear. “Yeh feel so good, baby. You’re doin’ so well for me,” he urged a hungry kiss on her lips, “such a good girl,” he cooed.

Her body was writhing beneath his and he hoped this was a sight he could remember forever. She looked so beautiful like this. Well, she looked beautiful all the time, but there was something about the way she couldn’t contain herself at this moment that had him gawking at her. Her eyes screwed shut and broken pleas sounding off the walls put him in a near daze. The way she clenched around him and how divine she felt seemed like a luxury he could not afford.

Her lips left breathy, open-mouthed kisses to his neck and he fell against her, driving his hips right into hers, grunting each time. He was in such a state of euphoric bliss that nothing else mattered to him in this moment except for her and proving his love to her. He wanted her to feel what she did to him. How she shot electricity through his veins every time she cried his name. How his whole body quaked with each yank of his hair. How satisfactory it felt to be the only one to make her eyes roll to the very back of head with each push to the right place within her. So that’s what he did. He carried on til the early morning until neither of them could take it anymore and collapsed into each other’s arms and exchanged honey-covered words until they succumbed to the imminent sleep, tangled together, in one piece.  

so this is part two!!! i skimmed through this to half-ass make sure there were no mistakes but i’m sure y’all will find one. also sorry i’m the worst smut writer in the history of this website. i hope you guys like this as much as part one. stay tuned for part three to continue the rest of Alex and Y/N’s story! 

[joyfullynervouscreator]

Song of Souls (five)

[One]  [Two] [Three]  [Four]  [Five]

The sacking of Eregion

Art by Kaaile on DA

They would hold the Glanduin until they had evacuated as much and as many as could be saved from Ost-in Edhil. The civilians – Eregion could not be held, not even if reinforcements from Lindon arrived in time, Glorfindel had agreed with her – and the wagons currently being filled were loaded with everything the Elves could not bear to leave behind; the ancient road along the Sirannon was already filled with carts and Elves carrying as many possessions as they could salvage. It was at once a frantic scramble and an organized chaos, Narví thought, walking through the airy archways.

She had sent Miri back to the mountain carrying a few of her own memories of Khalebrimbur – a hand-mirror he had once made that she had engraved with Dwarven runes to annoy him; a sketch he once drew of her working on the Doors; his favourite jeweller’s hammer – small things, really, but she had felt far too sentimental when she stood in his old rooms to allow herself to leave emptyhanded.

Erestor estimated that it would take another fourteen hours to empty the city completely, so they would attempt to keep the Enemy at bay for fifteen as a minimum. Eregion did not possess many warriors, and Durin’s spare gangbûh had been marched as swiftly as possible to reinforce their numbers. Narví had faith that they could hold the land between Sirannon and Glanduin for at least half a day once they begun the retreat; the Elven bows would hopefully aid in keeping loss of life at a minimum, but none of the defenders had doubts that they might easily be facing their last hours in Middle-Earth. By the time the last of the rear-guard made it back to the Stair Falls, all the Elves ought to be safely inside Khazad-dûm, leaving only archers and those Dwarrow who would man the ballistae Durin had ordered constructed along the Gate Stream to protect their retreat. The gorge through which the Gate stream ran was narrow and easily defensible; they did not anticipate any enemy forces getting through all the way to the Doors for at least another day – if not more.  

“Can you hear them, Khalebrimbur?” Narví whispered, looking out of the window in the tower-room he had used as a conservatory, the sun slowly sinking behind her. “They are afraid – with good reason – but they have hope, now; can you hear them, wherever you are?” She tried not to wonder where exactly that was. His body could be anywhere, of course, and she had not heard his voice again since that day in the Mountain – was it really only three days hence? – but if the Valar were kind, it would have found its way to the Halls of Mandos. Narví hoped it had; the thought of his soul wandering the earth, lost and slowly forgetting all that it had once been… was unbearable. Even more unbearable than the knowledge that she would not see him again until the Remaking; at least, she had some hope she might find him again in the new world her kin would create, would see him once more, listen to the silly songs he made up when he was happy in his forge or watch him to that odd thing his people called dancing, all wavy limbs and twirling. Narví smiled to herself; that’s how she would think of him, think of him dancing with his friends and family in the Halls of Mandos – maybe he would be reborn, get to re-join his mother – think of him being happy.  

“My Lady,” Erestor interrupted her thoughts quietly. Narví turned. The Elf had dressed in full armour, a pair of twin blades – Narví recognised Khalebrimbur’s work, though the weapons looked old – strapped to his sides. On his shoulder, the star-and-holly sigil of Eregion had been fashioned into a cloak pin; she had a similar belt buckle at home, though her star was not the House of Fëanor’s symbol, but the collection of seven stars that heralded her own line.

“Erestor,” she replied, “I have told you to use my name.”

“Yes… Narví.” The Elf looked a little sheepish. Narví cast about for a different topic.

“I did not think you were a warrior?” she really hadn’t; Erestor had always been happier among scrolls and histories. He glanced out the window, looking at the wagons still being pulled towards the shelter of the Mountain.

“Not for many years, Lady Narví,” he admitted, Narví let the title slide; the Elf’s eyes seemed locked on something far away in both memory and distance. “It’s been many a summer since I last took up arms to fight the Enemy; but I shall do so once more… defend what I have cherished, even unto the end.”

“It is not the end, mellon,” Narví murmured. “We will stand victorious.”

“So much faith, in such a small body,” he murmured, but Narví did not take offense; Erestor had always been a little peculiar that way, “though, perhaps you are right. Still, I do not think we shall ever see the like of Eregion again.”

“Khalebrimbur would scold you if he heard you say so,” Narví replied, moving towards the stairway. Erestor fell into step beside her. “Renewal is the Elven way, I have always thought. You will build a better Eregion, one that is more defensible than this one, because you will be less naïve in its construction; you will know that the Enemy has not been defeated.” Moving down the stairs, she barely heard Erestor’s sigh, but when she looked up at him once more, the Elf was smiling faintly. Narví shook her head; Erestor might be pompous and somewhat pessimistic, but he had loved Khalebrimbur dearly, and she knew how much it hurt the Elves who had settled here to abandon this land where they had been happy for almost a thousand years.

“As my Lady commands,” he swore, bowing to her, and Narví heard the ring of an oath in the words. “Then let us draw steel together, Narví, in the name of Eregion.” Turning on his heel, Erestor strode from the tower, heading towards the golden shimmer that was Glorfindel, still in the courtyard giving orders.

 “You’re sending Erestor to the foothills?” Narví asked; that had not been the plan earlier, but looking at the maps Glorfindel had spread out on a table in the middle of the courtyard, pointing out the positions to his captains, Erestor’s marker had been moved.

“No!” Erestor replied, staring at Glorfindel, who looked up briefly, piercing Narví’s soul with the strength of his gaze.

“Yes, Erestor,” he said and Narví wondered when she had become so skilled at reading Elves as to notice that his calm demeanour was a screen for deep anxiety, “I need you to command our forces there, stop the Orcs from crossing the mountainsides and getting behind our lines.”

“Don’t-” Erestor began to protest, but Glorfindel held up a hand, silencing him. Narví kept her mouth shut.

“You’re taking the flank, Erestor,” he continued, running the tips of his fingers over Erestor’s fist where it lay clenched on the table. “Please.” Erestor pulled away violently.

“He would stay with you,” Narví murmured, watching Erestor stride off in what was not quite a run, “I though you meant to keep him at your side.”

“He will be safer in the flank,” Glorfindel replied quietly. “Erestor is a good fighter, I know, but I can’t…”

“You can’t bear to see him hurt, watch him fight for his life without trying to get between him and his enemy, aye, I know, Lord Elf.” Narví did not look up when the Elf gasped, keeping her eyes on Erestor’s lithe form, mounting his horse with ease. The dark-haired elf did not look back as he set off. “For your love is as plain as the gold in your hair.”

“You are perceptive, Princess,” Glorfindel murmured. Narví shook her head.

“No, Glorfindel,” she chuckled, “but you look at him the way my brother used to look at his wife when he still believed her beyond his reach.”

“It is… uncommon… among my kind, to love someone of your own sex,” Glorfindel continued, still staring after Erestor. “I did not expect to find such love when I was sent back from Valinor.”

“When did you arrive here?” she asked, turning to face the despondent elf.

“In Middle-Earth? Near a century ago. In Eregion? Only two decades,” he admitted.

“And you have not told Erestor what dwells in your heart, I wager,” Narví added, surprised by the glow that appeared in the Elf’s cheeks, staining the tips of his ears pink.

“No,” Glorfindel sighed.

“You will.” Narví laced her voice with command, as though she were speaking to a recalcitrant noble. Glorfindel chuckled. “Promise me.”

“You never told…” he began, but she interrupted him easily.

“No…” Narví sighed, “but I know what it is to wish you had said something. Before it was too late.” Giving him a shrewd look, she smiled gently, trying to mitigate the sudden fear in his ancient eyes. “You have fewer obstacles in your path than I had… And Erestor… he loves you, too.” The golden-haired elf seemed frozen beside her, a sudden breeze blowing his long hair into his face. Narví sighed.

“We should be off, too, my lady,” Glorfindel murmured, breaking the silence by picking up his helmet and securing his hair beneath it. Casting one last look at the house where she had spent so many happy days, Narví nodded.

“Aye, so we should,” she agreed, accepting the hand that helped her onto his great stallion.

  Standing on the hastily constructed earthworks they intended to use as barricades, Narví felt proud of her kinsmen. They hadn’t had much time, but these mounds of earth they had built along the south bank of the Glanduin stretched all the way to the foothills where the river cascaded down from the snowmelt of the Silvertine and made a natural barrier; the orcs would not be able to cross the rocky crags to get behind the line of defenders. Reinforced with sharpened young trees – she had sent a silent apology to Khalebrimbur when she ordered them to cut down as much wood as they needed from around Ost-in-Edhil, but Narví knew he would have approved – the earthworks now stood chest-high to an elf, and by the time the first volleys had been fired, the archers could take position behind the Dwarven vanguard and continue firing, while the axes hewed down the foes determined enough to get over the walls.

“Baruk Khazâd!” someone called, bowing to her when he recognised her.

“Khazâd ai-izdnu!” Narví replied, to great cheer. Beside her, Glorfindel pretended not to be listening, but she had caught the impressed look on his face when he saw the battlements they had managed to create in such short time. “It is our war-cry,” she explained. “In battle, we believe in prophesizing to our enemies.” Looking up, it was obvious that the Elf did not understand. Narví smiled. Khalebrimbur had once explained how Elves called upon names – either those of a higher power or heroes of the past – for courage in battle, but her people had never believed in that. “Baruk Khazâd,” she explained, twirling her broad-axe with one hand and watching the way the late afternoon sun glinted off the sharpened edge, “the Axes of the Dwarrow. Khazâd ai-menu; the Dwarrow are upon you.” Nodding at the soldiers they passed on their way to their position, Narví repeated the words several times before they got there. “Of course, our enemies do not understand our tongue – for the words are sacred and created by the Maker,” Narví continued, “but it is a terribly impolite way to address someone in our language.” Glorfindel chuckled.

  Night had fallen. Swiftly and seemingly from one moment to the next, they were under cover of unnatural darkness, dwarven eyes staring wildly at the roiling mass of bodies they would be facing. Narví did not understand why they hesitated, why they waited, why the Orcs did not attack… and then she saw it.

“No!” she didn’t hear herself cry out, her eyes wide and staring at the grisly sight moving closer to her. “KHALEBRIMBUR!” she screamed, but Glorfindel’s hands held her back, stopped her running off and hewing down the fiends that had dared treat her elf like that.

Like a horrifying parody of a banner, pale flesh had been pierced by long spears and raised up above the advancing enemy. Dark hair hung in snarls, lank and lifeless, half-way obscuring the face she knew so well. Blood had dried in streaks from wounds too numerous to count, rivulets outlining the muscles and sinew. The head lolled on the neck, boneless, broken, and Narví stuffed her fist in her mouth to stop herself screaming, the metallic taste of copper strong in her mouth as she tried not to sick up, staring at the evidence of old torture. Some of the wounds were scars, she could see, stark white and bright pink, injuries that had healed over well before whatever final blow struck his life from this earth. “Khalebrimbur…” she whimpered, wanting to close her eyes, wanting to hide from this vision and pretend it had not happened, pretend he had died in his sleep, like her father, full of days well-lived and surrounded by kin and loved ones. Around her, Dwarrow and Elves alike were snarling; if the Enemy – she would never again dignify him with a name – had thought to strike fear in their hearts with his ‘banner’, he had managed only to fan the flames of righteous fury. Around her, Narví saw vengeance shining in eyes that had been darkened by fear and doubt, saw the need for revenge rally those who had not thought war would ever touch them again.

“A Eruchîn, ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas[1]!” Glorfindel called, as a single voice began singing. Narví did not understand the words, but the Elves around her seemed to stand straighter.

“Baruk Khazâd!” she cried, hearing her call to arms echo along the line, until the Dwarven army was chanting with one voice, a sound that she could feel rumble through the earth beneath her feet. “Khazâd ai-menu!”

“Tangado a chadad![2]” Glorfindel added, and the archers raised their bows as one; Narví felt distantly impressed with their coordination, even as her eyes remained glued to the corpse of Khalebrimbur. “Hado i philinn![3]” Glorfindel’s arm fell, a blur of gilded steel in the corner of her eye and Narví felt the rush of air as the arrows sped past her. A few of her own kin had crossbows, but they were not as swift to reload as the Elves, whose continuous firing was quickly dropping scores of Orcs.

 He heard her scream. There had been no words in his nothingness for some time, and the sound cut through his soul like knives of fire had once bit into his flesh. This was the sound of heartache, the sound of despair, and he almost did not dare consider what would have made Narví cry out such a denial.

“Khalebrimbur!” His name. It echoed in the void around him, like wolves howling in deepest winter. She was crying out for him?

“Narví!” He called, trying to reach her again, trying to tell her that he would be there, that he would make it better somehow, take away whatever hurt she was feeling and make her smile again. No sound escaped him, as the scream continued to sound around him, battering his ears like the ringing of bells and growing louder with every repetition.

 Glorfindel had stopped her leaping past their defences, stopped her going directly for the standard-bearer with his grisly trophy, but by the time the orcs reached their barrier and began to break upon the blades of the defenders like waves upon the shore, Glorfindel was right there with her.

“Baruk Khazâd!” Narví bellowed, fury in every syllable; her cry echoed by those around and behind her. “KHAZÂD AI-MENU!!”

In her hands, her axe was a living thing, hacking at flesh and biting through armour like it was mere scrap metal. Narví smiled grimly. Behind her, her personal guard were dealing out death like there was no tomorrow, and beside her, Glorfindel shone golden, as though the sun had lifted her head to pierce the night and the Enemy’s clouds just to catch in his hair. The Orcs recoiled from the sight, as much as they did from his sword, which seemed to be an extension of his arm, of his will to see them all pay for what had been done to his friend. As he swung, he sang, words Narví did not understand, but which filled her with curious joy, as though his light was touching her soul. It did not abate her fury, did not soothe her rage, her utter despair and agony unceasing as she felled orc after orc, cut down foes without counting.

Taking the standard-bearer’s head was satisfying, Narví’s teeth bared in a visceral snarl as she hacked the spears to pieces, yanking every spike of metal from the body of her Elf, barely even noticing that Glorfindel was killing every orc that got in range, keeping her safe as he had promised.

Picking up the corpse in her arms, her axe clutched in her hand as she carried him bridal-style back towards their earthworks, trusting the golden elf and her guards to watch her back and clear a path for their retreat, Narví didn’t even hear herself whispering soothing words into ears that could not hear her, telling him that it would all be alright, she would take care of him, keep him safe.

Narví’s tears did not fall, her anger burning too hotly for grief to become water in her eyes.

“It’s alright, Izgilê,” her voice murmured, “I’ve got you, everything will be fine. I am here, I’ve got you.”

Celebrimbor would have sworn he could feel a metal-covered hand stroking his hair, as he listened to the sound of her voice; it would have been soothing, he thought, if not for the knowledge of what she was carrying, the knowledge that she would see all that had been done to him; the image of his last years as a physical being also the last image she would have of him.

Weeping with eyes that conjured no water, Celebrimbor sank down onto the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and hiding his face.

Please don’t remember me like that, my Narví, he whispered, but the plea made no ripple in the void.

 [1] O Children of Eru, Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none! [2] Prepare to fire! [3] Release arrows!

@life-is-righteous @pandepirateprincess @mainecoon76  @sassytyphoondetective

[jo-the-schmo]

Breaking... Ch.19

Masterlist

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

A/N: What did I say about taking a break? HA, I can’t keep my word guys. Don’t trust me. I may have fixed the tags idk.

Wordcount: 2239

Warnings: Assault, gay, foreshaowing, cursing

Tags!!!!:  @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty@meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips@sweaterkitty-fluff@pinkyiger7@littlemissshortcakes@msageofenlightenment@unprofessional-inhumanbeing@fandom-panda-221@hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple@ashwolfcub@myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate@superwholockbooknerd526@frozengal2013@lmaodedhaha@itsmikayblr@sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms@hoshihime98@shinigamired @martapetrovic @robotic-space@iamnotthrowingawaymyshit2(lol) @asprinkleofmermaids@pinkyiger7(I’m tagging you twice my friend!) @satellitesuga @rose-coloured-nihilism  @okie-dokie-artichokeme @alyssumax @pandartist @marquiis-de-la-baguette 

Breaking The Rules

The heat of summer seemed to fade away as fast as it had come. Fall soon followed and Angie had just turned sixteen. It wasn’t too much after the fact that she had a request for Alex, she wanted to go to a party. There was a masquerade ball happening in only a week and RoseMary had asked her to accompany her there. Alex was originally very hesitant, Angie had never been to a gathering by herself before, although she wouldn’t actually be alone. It took many pleases but he eventually agreed, now you were here. Angie braced herself with her bed frame as you finished tying the laces of her corset, while Eliza sat in front of her and finished her makeup. You tied off the string and Angie let out a sigh of relief.

“Christ that was painful!” She let out, you gave her an apologetic look.

“Time to finish up! I’ll go inform the coach, can you handle the rest, dear?” Eliza asked as she pushed herself off the bed, she was about eight months pregnant and there was no way you were letting her pull a corset.

“Of course, be careful down the stairs!” You warned. She rolled her eyes.

“Very well, mother.” She joked as she made her way of the room. Angie stepped into her metal hoop and tied it off herself while you grabbed her top layer. You lifted it up over her head, she put her arms through the sleeves as the fabric fell over the hoop. You tied off the front, fluffed out the skirt and stepped back to take a look at her. She’s grown up so fast! She’s so beautiful, my precious cinnamon roll!

“What are you staring at?” She asked with a nervous chuckle. You fanned your eyes to stop yourself from tearing up. Could you not right now! Stupid emotions!

“Just…You are the most beautiful little sister that I could ever ask for!” You sniffled, she quickly came over and gave you a comforting hug.

“Now all you have to do is marry Philip and make that title official!” She smiled and pulled away.

“I can’t think about marriage yet! Especially not while he’s still in school.” You corrected.

“Come on! I’ll be your Maid of Honor; I’m already working on my speech for the reception!” She giggled.

“I’m sure you are, but enough about me! Tonight is about you! Well, you and RoseMary but you get what I mean.”

“Do you think she going to like it?” She asked, gesturing at her gown. It was a birthday present from Mulligan. It was a soft shade of pink; the front was rather plain but the back had a very dramatic train that you were instructed to pin fresh flowers into. It was gorgeous and very much Angie. The whole thing stood out, it was really puffy and had off the shoulder, short sleeves. It suited her medium-toned skin and brown eyes.

“Of course she’s going to like it! She likes you no matter what you wear, kiddo!” You reminded her. You took another look at her and felt a bit strange. She looked like someone, you couldn’t put your finger quite on who but she definitely reminded you of someone. You quickly shook off the feeling and focused on the preparation. “You just need one more thing and you should be ready.” You walked over to her vanity and picked up her mask. It was a more reddish pink than her dress with small and intricate designs, tiny crystals lined the eyes and top of the mask and a bit of feathering stuck out of the top. You went behind her, placed the mask to her face and tied it off with the pink ribbon. “Okay, now you’re ready!” You exclaimed. You followed her out of her room and down the steps. It was only mid-day but you knew that parties started a lot earlier here. Eliza was waiting by the door.

“The carriage is ready!” When Angie stood by Eliza, they both hugged each other. “Be safe, love.”

“I will, Mama. No need to worry!” Angie reassured her. You opened the door for her and watched as she entered the carriage and drove off.

             You spent most of the day cleaning up the mess in Angie’s room and then anxiously checking for letters from Philip. You’d received less letters from him ever since summer started and even now in the fall you weren’t getting much. You were starting to get a little worried. You told yourself that he was probably busy with schoolwork and that nothing was wrong but you couldn’t shake this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You decided to distract yourself with reading some of the passages he marked in your book for like the hundredth plus time. Your favorite one was “My soul is in the sky.” At least, by itself it was your favorite. In context with the rest of the passage it gave you a feeling of terror. You were never able to shake what you saw in those ‘visions’, they still haunted you. Every once in a while you felt like you could actually hear the dream-like experience in real life but it would always be your imagination. The passage gave you and eerie feeling, you knew that he didn’t intend for it to but it was definitely off putting.  The evening faded and Eliza was starting to get antsy, Angie wasn’t back home yet. You told her to go to bed and that you would stay up to watch for her carriage. She tried to say no and that she would stay up but eventually you were able to convince her that not resting isn’t good for the baby.

             You brought a chair into the main room and convinced Alex to let you borrow his portable writing set. What a fucking nerd, he refuses to leave the house without this thing. You wrote down some of your worries about Philip, sure you had admitted your love on paper, honestly it was the only way you could sort everything. But this was the first time you wrote about what your fears were about loving him. You didn’t want to be selfish, you didn’t want to hold him back, you didn’t want to hurt him with all of your problems. Honestly, you didn’t feel like you deserved him most of the time. He deserved someone who at least had a chance to be with him, not some one in ten thousandth chance. You heard a carriage pull in, the horses were louder than usual. You quickly put everything on the ground but before you could make it to the door, two people were rushing in. RoseMary was holding her white mask and Angie’s pink mask in one hand. Angie had her arm wrapped around RoseMary’s shoulder, her dress was ripped and her hair was a mess, that’s all you could see at least from where you were. They both collapsed onto the ground. You ran over to them and kneeled down.

“Oh God, what happened? Are you both alright?” You asked hysterically. Up close you saw that RoseMary had tears streaming down her face. Angie looked up at you and saw a large starting at the base of nose and went down to the edge of her jawline. Now that you could see it, her hair was not only a mess but pieces were shorter than you remember. You could see the parts that went to the normal length, ending at the middle of her back, but some chunks creeped up to shoulder length. Her dress was torn to pieces, you could see the metal hoops and how weirdly she was holding onto her leg. I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL WHOEVER DID THIS! DO YOU HEAR ME UNIVERSE?!    

“I’m so stupid, so, so stupid! I messed up big time TT…” She wheezed. You took her free arm and wrapped it around your own shoulder, you and RoseMary helped her off the ground and stand up. The two of you led her to your chair, she limped awkwardly the whole way.

“T-This wasn’t s-supposed to h-happen…” RoseMary shook.

“What the hell happened?” You asked once more.

“S-Someone saw us, they freaked out and came at us… I’m so sorry Angie! This is all my fault! I was too afraid to fight back…” She wept. “They chased off her carriage so w-we had to go and find my coach just to get out…” She kneeled down beside Angie and squeezed her hand. Angie shook her head, even though she was obviously in pain.

“It’s not your fault, Rosie. There’s no way you could’ve known…” She winced as you tried to wipe the blood off her face. “One of the men there grabbed me by the hair, Rosie had to cut me out so we could run. We’re lucky that didn’t see who we were so I don’t think they know…” She chuckled anxiously. You sighed, you could already tell that her leg was broken from what little was visible from under the metal rings.

“Angie…we have to tell your father. You’re going to need a doctor and you know I can’t call for one-“ You started.

“No! We can’t tell him! Please…” She looked at you panicked.

“I can’t treat you, I don’t have the medical knowledge to fix your leg. Plus, how are you even going to try and hide this from him? I’m going to get him; I think he’s still up.” You stood up and felt Angie grab your list, you looked back down at her and saw tears pricking at her eyes.

“Please! Don’t tell him! He’ll be upset with me!” She hiccupped. You looked down at her apologetically.

“Trust me, everything will be fine. You can’t hide this for forever.” You informed her. You didn’t like that you had to go against her wishes but you knew if you didn’t tell him, or at least enough to help her than she would get hurt again. You went through the hallway and saw light filtering in from under the study doors. You gave a soft knock and opened the door. “Alex? This is urgent, could you please follow me into the main room?” You heard him hum in confusion.

“Why? Is something wrong?” He asked in a concern voice.

“I’ll…I’ll let her explain. Please just come with me for a second.” You heard him rush out of his seat and he was following you back to Angie and RoseMary in no time. Once he saw her, all the color drained from her face, he ran over to, kneeled down beside her.

“Angelica! What happened? Are you hurt? Who did this?” He questioned frantically, she looked hesitant.

“It’s okay, Angie. You can tell him.” You tried to reassure. She looked at RoseMary, and she seemed to agree with you.

“I don’t know who it was… but I think my leg got messed up.” She tried to make light of the situation.

“How did this happen?”

“M-Mr. Hamilton… I think it might help if you promise to not get upset.” RoseMary suggested.

“Yes, yes, of course I won’t be upset. I swear on my life.” Alex looked Angie in the eye with a certain comforting seriousness. She took a deep breath to psyche herself up. You got this lil sis, you can do this!

“Some people…they um, saw something that they didn’t like so they attacked…”

“What are-“

“Father, I love Rosie! Every time you describe to me what it’s like to look at Mama every day, that’s how I feel with her! I’m so sorry, Daddy!” At this point there were tears streaming down her face. Alex, without hesitation, wrapped his daughter in his arms and held her a sort of fear that only a loving father could. “W-what?” Angie sniffled.

“My sunshine girl, why are you apologizing? I understand, you have no need to fear! I love you will all my heart, darling; nothing will ever change that!” Alex’s voice cracked. Looks like my feeling was right. “We’ll figure out a way to make this work, I promise. Until then, you need to lie low and rest.” Alex instructed you to help Angie up the stairs and get into bed. He would take a coach to RoseMary’s home and call for the doctor to deal with her leg. You did and helped her out of her clothes and into her night dress. Truthfully, you’ve seen her look more at peace with herself until now.  After you put her to bed, you went down to your room and decided to prepare yourself to sleep. As you changed out of your garments, you felt cold all of a sudden. Colder than what you should be in October at least. You shivered and realized you could see your own breath. You stood there for a moment in confusion, that’s when you heard something. Perhaps heard wasn’t the right word, there was no sound but you felt it. It was smooth and foreboding, lawful and just.

“Stop. Go back.” It echoed through your skin. You turned but saw no one there, the presence was gone and the room adjusted back to its original temperature. What was that…? You quickly put your night gown on and got under the covers on your bed.

You didn’t sleep that night.

[shagharoldd]

After Your Adad

(I wished I owned this beautiful gem, but I dont, so...image is not mine.)

Whoa, that’s a lot of words. But I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it as well. Please message me with comments, concerns, inaccuracies, etc. If you have any ideas on what I should write about, or possibly a way I could continue this, please let me know! Xx

Warnings: Pregnancy, assumed death, tearful ending

Word count: 2250

It all started days, seven to be exact, after your betrothed, Kili, had left on the greatest journey, a journey that would restructure your people’s future forever: to reclaim their homeland, Erebor. At first you thought that your mood changes were a result of him leaving. You were sad, there was no doubt about that, and maybe your new spark-plug personality was just rearing its ugly head. You weren’t normally like that though; you were normally very easy going, kind and gentle. However, you could hang with the big boys, or dwarves, if you needed to.

Then you realized that your bleed hadn’t come on time. You knew your body like the back of your hand, and being late wasn’t normal for you; it had never happened before. You decided that it was time to consult someone about your chances when you started throwing up at all hours of the day. The term “morning sickness” was incorrectly labeled, because it happened at the drop of a dime, no matter the time of day.

It just so happened that you had a planned breakfast with Dis, Kili’s mother, that morning and you figured it would be the best time to ask her about what was going on with your body. She was well seasoned; she would know.

Upon telling her, she gave you a knowing nod, and then said that she would accompany you to the second best healer, as the best healer, Óin, happened to be on the quest with your beloved. It gave you relief to know that such an experience dwarf was with the Company, but also left you a little apprehensive, as you wouldn’t be able to present him with your symptoms, rather someone else.

You truthfully didn’t know what was wrong with you, as it was obviously nothing you had ever faced before. And unlike the common dwarf family, you were an only child, so you weren’t able to experience these things through your Amad. But at the end of the day, after you had retired to your room post check up with Dis, you stared down in to your lap, utterly terrified, but utterly amazed.

You were with child.

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

Dis had been an angel in disguise. She had been through these very stages before with Kili and Fili, so she knew when you would need something a little extra, and when you should just be left alone. This lent itself to meals together quite often, or tea breaks mid-day so that you could rest your feet. You loved her company, her companionship, the love that she showed you and your unborn child. But all along, you wished that you had your Kili sitting next to you at the end of the night. You wished that you could share in this experience with him, as you know how much he wanted to be an Adad. He used to always talk about how he would teach his son or daughter how to properly use a bow and arrow, or how to braid hair the correct way based on how you wanted it to be received.

You were, however, alone.

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

Your early morning cravings got to be out of control, which meant that most mornings you would sneak down into the kitchens, and grab yourself a snack. Sometimes it would be early enough where you could poke your head out the window for some fresh air and watch the sunrise, nibbling at your founded treasure.

The first time you did so, you were caught by the cook; a short elderly dwarrowdam with kind eyes and soft hands named Milda. She knew right away what you were there for, as she looked up at you, her eyes wondering as she kneaded a loaf of bread. She cut you a piece of the freshest loaf, still warm from the oven, and spread apricot preserves on it. You had never had the preserves before, but once it touched your lips you were fast friends.

You were also fast friends with Milda, who became your early morning confidant. Sometimes you would miss her, or get to the kitchens before her, but you were never disappointed, as there was always some little snack left in the middle of the table, a small note left next to them instructing you on how to make your tea. She was like the grandmother you never had, but always wanted, and you were thankful for her comfort and care.

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

Life had become pretty steady, or as steady as it could be given your situation. You were expanding in all parts of your body, and you didn’t think you possessed feet any more. You had almost convinced yourself that you floated everywhere you went, that is until you looked in a mirror and saw that they were as swollen as the rest of your body.

The day had started off slow, a cool spring breeze nestling its way through your small shared quarters. That’s when you started hearing commotion outside: women yelling, some excitedly, some frantically. Word had made its way back to the village about the journey. They said that it was successful, but that there were mass casualties. Your head automatically went to the worst, and you had to lean against the doorway to steady yourself.

Later that day as you were walking to meet Dis for lunch, you overheard a small group of dwarrowdams whispering about the rumors that you head heard. From your distance, you could only make out two words, but they were words that you were terrified to hear: “prince” and “death”.

Your head flooded with all kinds of unintelligible images, some of Kili, some of the rest of the company, but you couldn’t stop the onslaught of images of Kili…dead.

When you stumbled in the front door to Dis’ chambers, your ramblings were indecipherable, and she quickly grabbed ahold of you, stating that she had heard the same things.

“Let’s get you to the bed, dearie,” she mumbled, lacing one arm around your back, the other holding your hand.  Once you were sitting, you looked up at her, fear evident on every line on your face. “Dis, I-I can’t do this alone,” you shake your head, tears beginning to fall down your face. She embraced you, pulling your engorged frame to her own, and you could hear her hum.

“You should have to,” she stated eventually. “But you will not be alone if it comes to that. I, for example,” she knelt down in front of you so that the two of you were eye level, “birthed those two young dwarfs, but it is this village that raised them. The village will raise this little one, as well.” She smiled, talking your face in her hands, as she kissed your forehead.

The last thing you wanted was for your child to be deprived of knowing their father. And you prayed to Mahal that the rumors were not true, or were misconstrued. You felt relief in knowing that you were not in this alone, but you also only wanted one particular dwarf to raise your child with you.

That’s when it happened: you felt a pop and a feeling a pressure being released, followed by a puddle pooling at your feet. Your eyes went locked with Dis, whose expression was not of surprise, but instead knowing.

“I can’t do this,” your eyes became wide, your head shaking ferociously, “I just cant. I’m not strong enough.”

She paused, looking at you sternly, before taking your hand in hers. “Do you know that Kili came to me when he met you and asked my permission to court you?” She asked, helping you stand. She knelt down, taking one of your shoes off, followed by the other. As she placed the second one on the ground, she looked up at you. “He wanted to make sure that I was okay with his decision for he made it. He asked Thorin, as well,” she smiled, as if remembering.

She pulled back the blanket on her bed, and led you to it, helping you sit, before she helped you to get your feet in to the bed. “Y/N,” she finally said, sitting down next to you, “I would not, nor would have Thorin, approved a dwarrowdam that we did not think possessed the qualities that Kili needed in a mate. And since then,” she smiled, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear, “since then you have proved yourself to be exactly what he wanted, and needed. You are strong, and brave. Kind and gentle. And you will bring this child in to and up in this world as just that.”

Tears glistened in your eyes, and you nodded, pushing yourself upright a little more so that you were more comfortable. Shortly after that, the healer made his way in to the room, followed by one of his nurses, and together, along with Dis by your side, you brought in to the world a blushing baby boy.

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

The horns sounded, signaling that there was a visitor at the village’s gates. Guests were few and far between in those days, even after the war had concluded, so there was quite the clamor amongst your fellow villagers.

You wrapped your young child in a light blanket, as the summer air was just starting to turn crisp, the leaves just starting to change. You cradled the still-small child to your chest, and made your way to the gate, staying back a little ways, just in case the attention wasn’t friendly.

But when those gates opened, adrenaline raced through your body, as you saw the long-since forgotten flags of the House of Durin make their way through the gates. Just after the flag holders was Fili, riding on a pony, followed by your beloved, Kili.

Your heart raced, your palms became clammy, and it took everything in you not to race to his side right then and there. You cradled your son closer to you, and started to make your way through the crowd, your eyes not losing sight of him. And when you finally got close enough, he slid off of his pony, and looked around, angst in his eyes.

“Kili!” You screamed, waving your free hand in the air, “Kili!!” When his eyes finally landed on you, you felt instant relief. He was alive, and he was well, and he was standing right in front of you. The respite the stream-lined through your body could have made you high if you reveled in it too long, so you made your feet do all the work as you stumbled towards him.

“Y/N,” he yelled excitedly, tears pillowing in his eyes, and he embraced you, seeming like he was never going to let go. His kisses peppered your forehead, your nose, your lips, before he looked down, realizing that you were holding a little package in your arms. The baby was now fully alert, looking around, but perfectly content in his warm little cocoon.

“Y/N,” he whispered, looking down at the child, before his eyes met with yours. “W-what, who is this?” he mumbled, not being able to process what was going on. “This, my dear Kili, is your son.” You pulled back the blanket a little to expose more of the little clone of your betrothed, him developing the same color of hair as his Adad, with your eyes.

“I found out that I was with child days after you left,” you started, placing you hand on his cheek as tears streamed down both of your faces, “I didn’t know.”

“If I had known-” he coughed slightly, trying to dislodge the ball in his throat, but you stopped him, kissing the tips of your fingers, and placing them on his lips. “If you had known, I still would have made you go,” you concluded for him, “You were not going to miss walking through those doors. Not after everything our people have been through.”

He bit his lip, looking torn, and finally nodded slowly, before he reached his finger up, running it along the baby’s cheek. “Would you like to hold him?” You asked, your eyes reading Kili’s face for a shred of doubt, but instead he mimicked the position that your arms were in. “More than anything,” he whispered.

You placed the little dwarf in his father’s arms, and stepped back slightly, letting them have your moment, but also letting yourself take in the sight. All of the fears, all of the restless nights thinking about how your child might not ever be able to meet his father. All the times that you thought about Kili not making it home, and how you would try to illuminate your beloved’s memory for your child. All of the fears and apprehensions were cast aside in that moment; a moment of pure relief.

He reluctantly tore his eyes from the baby, and stepped towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, before he pulled you up for a long, hungry kiss. “I almost forgot,” he started laughing, letting you go so that he could look at you properly, “What is our son’s name?”

You chuckled slightly, shaking your head, before taking the baby’s free hand in yours, his fingers wrapping around yours.

“I named him Vili, after your Adad.”

[jo-the-schmo]

Breaking...Ch.14

Masterlsit Part 13 is here lol

A/N: This is my shortest chapter yet and it’s dull af I’m so sorry.

Wordcount:1855 (v short)

Warnings: Idk at this pint, does disappointment count?

Tags: @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit @renae-writes @deltablue202 @literally-melonkitty@meunicorn @favouritefighting-frenchman @demi-godamit @gum-and-chips@sweaterkitty-fluff@pinkyiger7 @littlemissshortcakes@msageofenlightenment @unprofessional-inhumanbeing@fandom-panda-221@hummusandchips @spoopy-piineapple @ashwolfcub@myself-and-the-madman @sweet-fate @superwholockbooknerd526 @frozengal2013@lmaodedhaha@itsmikayblr @sarmar29 @arya-durin-77 @phantastic-fandoms@hoshihime98 @shinigamired @martapetrovic @robotic-space @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit2 (lol) @asprinkleofmermaids @pinkyiger7 (I’m tagging you twice my friend!) If anyone else wants to be tagged just send me an ask!

Breaking Plans

It’s been a solid week since you fought with Philip and neither of you has said a word to each other since. You wanted to, you really did, you just didn’t know what to say. You wanted to apologize because you knew you were in the wrong; you were adult enough to admit that. All he was wanted to do was help you and you just metaphorically slapped him in the face. You felt like a grade A certified asshole. Completely miserable, honestly you had a better time working for Burr because at least then you had something to look forward to. Writing to him, waiting to see him, dreaming about him. Now you had nothing. He was here, you saw him every day and it hurt you. The way he looked at you hurt you, it wasn’t a look of hatred or even of disappointment. He was confused. His eyes alone said it all, he didn’t even have to ask out loud the questions he wanted answers to. ‘Why did you say that? Did I do something wrong? Am I really just some kid to you?’ Those questions were something you had no problem answering. Why did I say that? Because I’m stupid. Did you do something wrong? No, of course not! Are you just some kid to me? No! No, I love you I think? You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to do something. As worried as you were about other possible questions he may ask, you had to make this nonsense stop. You messed with your hair for a second before getting off your bed, making your way through the main room and up the stairs. You looked down at the hall and felt your stomach turn. You couldn’t help but feel nervous as you looked at his door. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down and went up to his door. From in the room you could hear a furious scratching sound. You needed a way to start off, an idea formed in your head. You gave the door a soft knock, the sound stopped.

“Who is it?” He called out from behind the door.

“It’s me…” You responded, he sighed.

“I’m writing.” He said simply. Okay, time to try the idea. You cleared your throat and straightened your posture to help your diaphragm.

“Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” You sang softly, you heard him shift.

“What?”

“Just let me in, that would be enough.” You continued.

“What are you doing?”

“What? Do I need to step up my game? Alright, you asked for it mister!” You put your hand in front of your mouth and did the best beat box you could manage, doing it for a moment before stopping and trying to rap. “My name is Y/N, I can be a poet! I’ll recite this poem just to show you. But I can’t say your mine, you have kind eyes but you probably hate mine. I practice Latin and watch you play piano with your mother! I called you mister to prove you’re not a bother! This crazy day’s making me say what I think! Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq!” You heard him chuckle as you adjusted to a more soft voice and more melodic song tone. “Take a break! I can’t fully explain what happened this winter while you were up state! But I’m taking this advice from your father. There’s something I know, I need to be more stark, please let me in before the day turns dark!” You stopped for a moment and heard footsteps approaching you, the door opened slowly.

“I’ll try to pull myself away.” He took a step back to let you enter and you did so, closing the door behind you.

“My dearest Philip Hamilton, it’s really hard to tell you this. Sit down with me and compromise, we can’t stop till we’re appeased. Don’t tell your little sister, Titania will remind you, you’re my favorite Hamilton, even when you can’t look at me. In those letters I received from you a few weeks ago I noticed some things in the way your phrased. I realized my feelings, I must defend this. When I woke I knew I must protect and say…My dearest Philip Hamilton, I’m sorry for not being fearless. I’ll say it again, you’re my dearest, Philip Hamilton… Anyway, all just the same! I’ll tell you what I can muster, I know I seem evasive. But it’s to protect your family from what happened while you were upstate. I know you’re very busy, I know you’re more important! But I’m addressing my flawed mess and I just can’t wait! You can still push me away. But I like you only a moment away!” You sang.

“My starlight, please come here. I should’ve come to you before today!” He matched your melody and held out his arms. You couldn’t help but run into them, both of you hugging each other tightly. You pressed the side of your face into his shoulder. “Oh my starlight…” He sang softly.

“My sunshine…”  You didn’t even sing that last line, tears began to trickle down your cheeks and onto his shoulder. He smoothed down your hair and held you close. “I’m sorry…I don’t want you to get hurt, I know I can be really defensive but I’m trying to open up more because I want to open up to you! I care about you and I don’t want you to be upset, you aren’t just some kid to me, I’m sorry I said that, I didn’t mean it. I don’t think I can tell you what happened yet, but it’s not because I’m in danger or anything I just literally can’t say it for a lot of reasons. I’m really stressed out about this and I can’t even come close to describing how upset I am that I can’t tell you because I want to, I don’t want to lie to you but I’m doing everything I can right now. I’m so sorry-“ He cut off your rambling.

“Shh, it’s okay. I get it, I understand. I don’t pretend to know the challenges you’re facing. All these responsibilities you keep maintain and creating in your life. I wish you’d trust me more, yes, but I realized some things too. I am just a kid; I know you just said I’m not but I am. I have a lot of growing up I need to do.”

“What are you talking about? You’re more mature than any other man I’ve met honestly.” You weren’t lying, times have changed drastically in your time compared to now.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time actually, Grandfather helped me realize it. History has its eyes on me and I want the person our nation remembers to be fair, passionate and wise. That’s why I’ve decided something…”

“W-What have you decided?” Don’t tell me…Philly?

“I’m going to boarding school next fall.” He informed somberly, he didn’t look at you but you could tell he was a bit sad. He’s…He’s leaving? “So? What do you think?” He asked.

“I, uh, that’s good I guess. If that’s what you really want to do…then I’ll support you. H-How long will you be gone for?” You questioned nervously. He sighed.

“In normal cases, a year and be back for the summer but… It’s college and I want to graduate as fast as my father did… So, I’ll be away during the summer as well.” A whole year?! He looked at the worry on your face. “Don’t worry! I’ll be able to visit for Christmas and such! You won’t just not see me for two years!” TWO YEARS?!

“That long? But…” No! Y/N, as much as you love him you need to let him do this! I can’t just shelter him, no matter how much I want to take him far away from this place. “Okay, just promise me that you’ll take care of yourself and that you’ll write to us whenever you get the chance…And the most important thing, promise me you’ll still be Philip when you come back…Promise?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. He was only a few inches taller than you. He nodded, a soft smile on his lips.

“Of course, I’ll always be your sunshine! The sun always comes back right?” Yeah, the sun will always come back…But it never meets the stars…

…

             After your talk with Philip, you realized your feelings would have to be pushed to the side. You knew that if you told him then he’d stay. He’d stay in New York City with you, love you with every fiber of his being. But, you couldn’t hold him back. He really wants this, he wants to better himself, even if you think that he’s already perfect. This isn’t about you, it’s about him. So, you didn’t tell him. There were times when you thought you should but you didn’t. You loved him too much, he needed to grow and for him to grow you had to wait. It’s a needed sacrifice. Spring went by in the blink of an eye, the hot, sticky air of summer soon passed as well, much to your dismay. August was ending and you knew what that meant. Philip will leave, and the sun will follow him. And it did. The day came for Philip’s departure, everyone was excited to see him succeed while you had to pretend to not feel regret. He hugged and kissed everyone until you were the only one left. You couldn’t tell why but you felt like he was holding something back when he looked at you. Like he wanted to say more than he did. He took your hand, kissed the knuckle but stayed like that longer than usual. When he finally lifted his hand he said.

“Goodnight, my starlight.” It took you a moment to realize what he was saying. He said the exact same thing that night, after you both had watched the stars together.

“Night, Sunshine” You quoted yourself. Everyone else went inside as he walked over to the carriage waiting for him. “Wait! Philly, one more thing!” You ran up to him as he stood in front of the open carriage door. You cupped your hand over his cheek and turned his face to the side, placing a soft kiss on the opposite cheek. He froze, eyes filled with awe. You pulled away and smiled with bittersweet words on your tongue. “Make me proud, Sunny.” You’ve never seen him smile as hard as he was at that moment, like his childhood dream just came true. He nodded happily.

“Wait for me. I’ll be back before you know it!” You took a step back and let him get into the carriage, you watched as it pulled out of the yard and down the street. You didn’t go back inside until it was out of your line of sight. You shut the door behind you, already feeling empty without him near you.

I did the right thing…right?

Will I ever be satisfied?