#The Hobbit AU

[verkomy]

joel and ellie in the tolkien universe

you can get a print here: inprnt!

[tetchy-frog]

*Slides this into your feed*

Finding some peace in suburbia

[mikhalson]

AU where Thorin's spirit reincarnates in a cat body and looks for Bilbo bc of the power of ✨️true love✨️

Bilbo, by the way, never wanted a cat... especially such a giant one with such a nasty temper

[khazdmazerb]

Finished concept drawing of Erebor Bilbo

Yes I did full line art and color. No do not expect me to use this much will power again.

(Plus the sketches)

[thorin]

AU where bilbo doesn't go to erebor with the company on that day where they all first met

half a year goes by where bilbo sometimes wonder what happened to those dwarves that raided his pantry. did they succeed in their crazy quest? were they safe? was gandalf safe?

gandalf was alive, but had been banished by thorin himself after he'd fallen to dragon sickness. now, gandalf needs bilbo to steal the arkenstone from thorin in order to give it to either dáin or fíli so he can become king instead, as thorin is clearly unfit to rule.

now what would happen next is the question......

[mismaeve]

Ashes of the Heart

↳ Ashes of the Heart, Thranduil x Fem!Reader, modern AU ↳ Requested by @fizzyxcustard Word Count: 2.3k TW: heavy angst, cursing, graphic descriptions, references to death A/N: This was such an amazing request to write, I enjoyed myself so much! I didn't know I could produce such angst, but here we are so read at your own peril. Any feedback is always welcome and much appreciated. Enjoy! 𓋼𓍊 Backstory: Thranduil who works in military as elite special operations leader, is leaving his lover to oversee a Navy SEALs mission. It's something he has done countless of times, only this time - his lover has a bad feeling about it.

«For how long?»

Your question was one that you had asked many times before. Always the same. A question without an answer as you watched him pack his duffel-bag, barely anything inside it, save for a few shirts and clean socks, and boxer briefs. His lack of an answer hung heavily within the four walls of your spacious bedroom.

“I see,” you sighed heavily. You knew well enough to trust that if he could, he would tell you. Begging and pleading would change nothing, and you had quickly adapted to a life of being kept in the dark. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you, but it could drive you mad during those lonely nights when your fear for him became your greatest enemy. Scenario after scenario of every little thing that could have gone wrong – the image of your beloved injured or worse…

You shuddered.

“What is it, my love?” concern filled his pale eyes as his hand clasped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against the softness of your skin. You closed your eyes, savoring his touch for the solitude that was to come.

“It feels different this time,” you confessed, your eyes dropping to your hands – a jumble of nervous fingers.

“How do you mean?” Thranduil asked softly.

“I feel like something bad is going to happen to you,” you whispered, your admission sending a painful jolt through your heart and filling your stomach with lead.

“Oh, my sweet, you know-”

“Yes, I know you’re never on the ground yourself. Believe me, I know this. But I can’t shake this feeling,” you interrupted him, desperately wanting him to understand and accept your concern.

You always let him go, never fussed or begged him to stay. You knew how important his work was to him – to the entire country and maybe even the world. His brilliant mind was the one hidden behind every successful operation. How could you keep him to yourself when everyone’s safety – including your own – depended on him?

You had adjusted, not only your life but your expectations as well. Only tonight, the sickening feeling of dread was like poison inside your mind, spreading its bile throughout your entire body.

“Oh, my darling,” Thranduil pulled you into his arms and kissed your hair. You held onto him for dear life, afraid of what might happen if you were to let go. Your premonition of tragedy only growing with each gentle stroke that trickled down your back, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps.

“I always come back to you, do I not?” he whispered against your hair, his body rocking yours back and forth slowly and tenderly, a simple motion meant to soothe your growing worry.

“But you never promise,” you pointed out. “You never promise to come back because even you know that there is still some danger to what you do and where you go,” you insisted, pulling away to look at the man you loved beyond any reason and doubt.

His pale eyes held yours, the understanding gleaming through from the depths of his own soul. He knew you were right.

“Believe me when I say that no force in this world would keep me from returning to you,” Thranduil said. “You are my home, my peace from the destruction that is our world. You’re my haven during a raging storm. Nothing will keep me away from you.”

You bit back the tears that had come unannounced and nodded. If only to please him, you would muster the last of your courage and strength. You swallowed the bitter lump of foreboding and forced yourself to smile. He deserved a proper and loving good-bye, not tears and childlike pleas.

“Be safe, will you?” you said softly and placed your palm to his cheek. Thranduil leaned into your touch with a reposeful sigh, his eyes closing briefly while he cherished this last moment between you.

“Always,” he whispered.

An hour later you were sat on your bed alone.

Days turned into weeks which turned into months. Not a phone call or a text, no letters of any kind – Thranduil appeared to be fallen off this Earth entirely. It became harder and harder to remind yourself that he wasn’t allowed to communicate while planning and overseeing an operation. With each day that went by without a word from him, your unease had turned malignant – eating and tearing away at your mind like a disease for which there was no remedy.

You had a number to call in case of an emergency, but you couldn’t bring yourself to use it. This wasn’t the first time when he had been gone for months on end, you had survived that, surely you would persevere this time as well. If only it weren’t for that pesky feeling that wouldn’t go away. Without knowing how or why, you knew with crystal-clear certainty that something was wrong. You had known it long before he had walked out the door.

Another month had gone by without any news of his whereabouts when you awoke with a scream, tiny beads of sweat covering your forehead. Your heart was pounding inside your ribcage, threatening to burst any minute with every shallow breath you drew. Wheezing and gasping for air with tears streaming down your cheeks, you tried to catch your breath while still being held captive by the nightmare that had just haunted you.

You jumped at the sound of the doorbell, a yelp escaping your trembling lips. Fumbling with the light, your fingers still shaking from your vivid dream, you struggled to switch it on. Tumbling over your own sheets in your rush to get out of bed, you nearly fell out with your face first.

With your heart lodged inside your throat, you rushed to the door and peered through the tiny peephole. A well-dressed man was standing on the other side, patiently waiting for you to open. In your flustered state you hadn’t immediately recognised the familiar face of Jerry, a man who worked closely with Thranduil. Mindless of your current attire, you unlocked and threw open the door.

“What’s happened?” you demanded, not bothering to hide the panic that laced your voice.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced in the middle of the night, but I fear this couldn’t wait for a more decent hour,” Jerry’s tone was calm and collected, a blatant contrast to your own disheveled self.

“Tell me,” you urged him. The sinking feeling in your stomach warning you that the news he bore were far from good. A nauseating wave of hot and cold reverberated through your entire body, your insides twisting and churning in painful anticipation.

“Let’s talk inside, shall we?” Jerry offered with a quick nod in the direction of your apartment.

“I need to know, Jerry,” you insisted as the two of you had taken your seats on the couch at his request.

A heartbeat passed before your husband’s highly esteemed colleague began divulging the events that had taken place during the operation. It appeared that there had been a leak, and the entire campaign had been compromised from the very beginning. The team of Navy SEALS had been deployed as planned, their movements tracked and monitored by intelligence officers, the entire operation led and overseen by Thranduil as chief elite special operations leader. Everything had seemed to go as planned when their systems had suddenly crashed and shut down entirely, leaving them in the dark about the movements of their men on the ground.

“Well? Go on,” you pushed for Jerry to continue after he had taken a brief pause.

“I’m sorry, I-,” he cut himself off and lowered his head, his shoulders slumping, clearly unable to go on.

“For fuck’s sake, tell me!” you choked out through gritted teeth, fighting back the tears that threatened to come. You felt you couldn’t breathe but you had to know. After everything that they had put you through, they owed you this much.

Jerry lifted his head, his face drawn and utterly defeated. His look was that of pity, like he knew what he was about to do to you. Nonetheless, you stood your ground in defiance, even as your heart had already begun to crack and splinter.

The supposed glitch in their systems had turned out to be a cleverly crafted ruse, a temporary disabling of the sensory motion detectors orchestrated by the terrorists so their drones could slip in undetected. When their back-up systems had picked up the slack, it had already been too late. Several explosions had riddled the base of their headquarters as the drones had launched their assault. A perfectly plotted mission to eliminate the brilliant and tireless minds behind the curtains. All turned to ash.

No bodies had been recovered from the scene.

An ear-piercing cry filled your apartment, threatening to shatter your windows – just as your own heart had shattered into a million pieces. You screamed and wailed until your throat burned raw, your chest painfully heaving with each useless breath you took. Unaware of the steady arms that had wrapped around you, holding your convulsing frame, you continued to unleash your blazing agony.  There was no end in sight, no promise of a respite, however temporary, only grief – dark and thick, and unyielding. An endless sorrow took over your body and promised to never let go. There was nothing left for you, only pain forever etched in your soul at his sudden departure.

You knew with uncanny certainty that you had died that night. In his passing, he had taken you along with him.

Three weeks earlier

Jerry was pacing up and down the narrow corridor, his thoughts racing quicker than he could pay attention to. His once sharp and focused mind had become nothing more than a blur. He silently cursed himself for agreeing to do this, his regret already eating away at his conscience.

He couldn’t do it.

Jerry stopped his pacing and closed his eyes. He slowed down his throbbing mind by focusing on his breathing, a practice he employed whenever his wits threatened to abandon him. If he was to have this particular conversation, he would need his devices to remain cool and collected, even if his counterpart appeared to had lost his.

He wouldn’t do it.

With a nod of quiet determination, he turned on his heel and headed in the direction of his colleague’s room.

“What is it that you do not comprehend?” he hissed in anger.

“I don’t understand why you’re willing to put her through this when it’s so uncalled for,” Jerry argued back albeit his voice lower and gentler than that of his friend.

“Uncalled for?! Look at me! Who am I to condemn her to loving a monster?” Thranduil spat in burning fury.

“She loves you, you know she does. She’ll love you regardless of how you look,” Jerry tried to make him see reason, but Thranduil only shook his head in dismissal.

“No.”

“Coward,” Jerry stated simply, crossing his arms over his chest. His own defiance preventing him from backing down.

“Fuck you, Jerry.”

“You’re a coward. Because why else would you ask me to tell your wonderfully loving wife, who probably at this very moment wishes for nothing more than your safe return, that you have died? You say it’s for her, but I think it’s your own vanity and fear that drive you to do this. That’s not love or mercy.”

Thranduil regarded him in silence, his right eye not blinking. The sight of him was horrific – the left side of his face was covered in bandages, his previously golden-white hair now burnt off entirely, leaving a patchy scalp riddled with burn-blisters. What was left of his skin was red and swollen. His chest was submerged underneath countless burn dressings, his left arm wrapped in medical gauze – from his fingertips to his shoulder. He couldn’t see Thranduil’s legs, but he imagined his left leg was in no better shape than the rest of him.

Jerry schooled his features, the last thing his colleague needed was to see pity in his eyes.

Thranduil turned his head away from his friend, his gaze drifting to the lone window of his hospital room.

“It’s because I love her, that I have to do this,” he began quietly. “I’ve no doubt that she would love me despite my injuries. She would want to nurse me back to health, without a complaint or single regret. She’d do anything for me.”

“It’s because I love her, that I don’t wish this kind of life for her. A life stuck with me, caring for me while I’m slowly consumed by my rage. I’ve become a disfigured cripple who may never walk again or regain the use of his arm. Half of my face has been melted off straight to the bone,” he bit out through gritted teeth, his voice breaking.

“If I haven’t become a monster yet, it’s where I’m headed. I am angry at the entire world and that anger will only grow with time. I can’t subject her to share her life with an ungrateful, bitter beast. Not when she deserves to live.”

Jerry heard Thranduil’s breath hitch ever so softly, the sound of it piercing his heart like a bullet. It was gut-wrenching to witness his close friend be reduced to this – a heap of charred flesh with a broken spirit.

“She won’t survive it,” he said quietly.

Thranduil turned his head, a sad smile playing on the corner of his mouth, a glimmer of genuine pride gleaming in his good eye.

“She’ll think so too, that there is no surviving this. But she’s strong,” his smile widened knowingly. “Fierce. Even if she may not know it yet.”

“What if you one day, say a year from now, regret your decision? What if you find yourself wanting to find her?” Jerry asked.

“I doubt that will ever happen. But if it did…,” Thranduil trailed off and paused.

“I’d pray that she could find it in her to forgive me and would gladly spend the rest of my life trying to earn that forgiveness.”

𓋼𓍊 General Tag → @heilith @kanafinwe-makalaure @eunoiaastralwings @snowtargaryen @aduialel

@a-contemplation-upon-flowers @fizzyxcustard @dawn-petrichor-world @lathalea @fckmini

𓋼𓍊 Thranduil Tag → @coopsgirl @missymoo02 @imsorare @ioitsmeri1

If anyone wishes to be either removed or added to my taglist, let me know ♡ ↳ Maeve's Taglist ↳ Requests ↳ Masterlist

[mordellestories]

[shreksimp69]

Thorin Oakenshield as a Saytr🌲🐐🌾🗡🛡

I read this fanfic of him as a saytr and wanted to draw him immediately‼️‼️‼️

(Credit to _doodles_i_guess_ on tiktok for the Saytr ych)

Pics I used as reference✨️

[middleearthpixie]

I'll See You in My Dreams ~ Chapter Four

Summary: Noelle James knows soul mates exist, the trouble is, she just can’t seem to find hers. Especially since hers seemed to have existed only in the world of cinema and The Hobbit movies. No one believes she actually spent time in Tolkien’s Middle Earth and even fewer believe Thorin Oakenshield existed in her world, either. 

So when she finds herself unexpectedly alone on yet another Christmas, she has no way of knowing exactly what the universe has in store for her this time.The trouble is, this man claiming to be Thorin can’t possibly be him, for he died at the hands of Azog the Defiler at Ravenhill. She saw him die with her own eyes.

So, it can’t be him.

Or can it?

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Noelle James

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.4k

Read on AO3

Noelle set her keys in the crystal bowl and closed the door behind her with her free hand. Thorin strode into the living room, where he set the Orcrist down on the coffee table, just as he’d done the last time he was in her apartment. 

She couldn't help but smile as he shrugged out of his coat, tossed it haphazardly over the arm of the sofa, then moved to the windows across from the sofa, the windows that offered up such an amazing view of New York City. He apparently hadn’t lost his fascination with the view from said windows, as he stood before them, hands clasped behind his back, and just peered out at the world like a king surveying his domain.

Of course, he was a king. This just wasn't exactly his domain.

A king. 

He certainly had the bearing of a king, as he stood there, reflected in the glass. She had a small artificial Christmas tree on the table in the corner, its twinkling lights highlighting his features, dancing along the tangle of black curls the spilled halfway down his broad back. Even if she didn't know he was a king, she would have guessed he was a man of importance, just by that bearing alone. 

“So little has changed since I was last here,” he remarked without looking over his shoulder.

“No, it probably hasn’t.” She hung her coat on the rack mounted to the wall just inside the door, then joined him, trying to see her world through his eyes. Impossible. She’d been born and raised in this world. There was nothing new or unusual as far as she was concerned. The styles of cars down below may have changed, buildings might have been built or torn down, neighborhoods went to slum, were gentrified, or remained the playground of the wealthy, but overall, New York City itself never changed. 

She peered over at him. “Has your world changed?”

“Since Ravenhill?” He nodded. “Very much so. Esgaroth is now completely rebuilt and Dale is once more a great and bustling center of trade as well. Erebor is almost finished in its rebirth. But…”

A low sigh leaked through his lips and she waited for him to finish his thought. When he remained silent, she prompted, “But what?”’

“Clouds of war continue to gather across the whole of Middle Earth,” he replied without turning away from the window. “Azog is dead, but another has taken his place and the orcs grow more powerful with each year.”

“So, do you think they will try to conquer all of Middle Earth?”

“I do, yes.”

He said it softly, with no little finality in his voice. Noelle turned to him. “So, maybe we need to go back to Turtle Pond? Or do you think that’s why you’re here? Like last time, when I was supposed to keep you from getting run through, only I screwed it up. Am I supposed to watch Lord of the Rings to maybe figure it out?”

“Who is the Lord of the Rings?”

“You know, the One Ring? Bilbo found it in Goblintown and carried it all the way through the Battle of the Five Armies. It’s how—how he got to Ravenhill so fast…” She pursed her lips briefly, then added, “At least, that’s how your people think it happened. Since I was erased from your world.”

Thorin rubbed his forehead with one hand. “It’s far too difficult to keep up with everything. I couldn't tell you how you and Bilbo came to be up there. I just know you were there.”

“We fought our way up there, believe it or not.” Noelle managed a smile. “I was the most inept fighter in the world, but I managed to not get killed. All I managed to do was not remember how to keep you from being run through until it was too late.”

“Noelle, it wasn't your fault. It had to happen that way. I know that, even if I don't entirely understand why no one remembers you were there. Master Baggins said nothing about a ring.”

“No one remembers because they couldn’t. Because that’s not how Tolkien’s story was written or how the movie’s plot unfolded, and there’d be a hell of a lot of really confused fanboys out there, if all of the sudden, ten, fifteen years after those movies came out, the story somehow changed.

“As for Bilbo not saying anything, I don't know why he kept quiet about it, other than he just didn't want anyone to know, which is reason enough, I guess. Unfortunately, none of that even offers up a hint as to why you’re here to begin with.”

“It doesn’t, no,” he admitted, and this time, he did turn toward her. “I just know that for some reason, I was brought here again. And this time, it had nothing to do with the waters in Mirkwood, for I was in Erebor when suddenly I was here.”

“Really?”

“I was taking in a bit of air when it happened. So, I imagine I’m supposed to be here for some reason.” He reached out to curve his hand against her cheek. “I know not what that reason is just yet. But, I do know I’ve missed you.”

As he spoke, he swept his thumb along her cheek, leaving a swath of tingles in his wake. Still, she smiled as she shook her head. “Why do I think you haven’t even thought about me these last three years?”

“Has it been that long?”

That quelled the tingles even as she nodded. “Yeah. It’s been that long. At least, here it has been. I don’t know, maybe time is different on your side of the wormhole.”

The moment lost, she drew back, turning to go into the small kitchen. “I’m going to pour a glass of wine. Want one?”

“Have I said something I shouldn’t?”

A hint of confusion wove through his words, one she tried to ignore as she tugged open her refrigerator door to grab the bottle of chardonnay. She certainly couldn’t tell him that his answer wasn't quite what she’d expected, but she also couldn’t tell him that she’d wanted to hear him say she was wrong, that of course he pined for her. Just as she’d pined for him.

No. She frowned as she tugged the stopper from the bottle and reached for the glass on the sideboard. That wasn't right. She didn't pine for him. She’d mourned him and that was completely different.

“Noelle?”

She peered over her shoulder to see him in the doorway, his brow furrowed and his expression troubled. “What?”

“Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No. I just—I have to remember that our experiences are pretty different.” She filled the glass about two-thirds of the way, then lifted it to her lips. “You thought I went home and I thought you were dead.”

“And you’re angry because I’m not?”

“What? No, of course not!” The wine was smooth and buttery and one of her favorites, but she only barely tasted it as she lowered the glass once more. “But…” 

“But what?”

“What happened after I left?”

“I told you,” he came into the kitchen, stepping around her to sink into one of the two chairs at the small round table tucked into the far corner of the long, narrow room, “I awoke in the infirmary in Erebor and when I asked about you, no one had any inkling as to who I was talking about. I’d say your name and the response was always the same. Who? There was no one here called Noelle.”

“It was as if I’d never existed, wasn't it?” Although she expected it, his nod sank her spirits some just the same. “Fíli, Bilbo, Bofur… not a one of them remembered me, did they?”

Thorin hesitated, then slowly shook his head. “I stopped asking about you, for anytime I did ask, the person I’d asked looked at me as if I’d gone mad. I thought they would become convinced I’d fallen into the dragon sickness once more.”

“The same thing happened here after you left when we were in Central Park. No one remembered you. Any picture I had of you, your face was impossible to see. Anything I had that you’d written was blank once more. The only thing that remained was your ring that you gave me in the cab.”

His forehead furrowed. “Ring?”

“You wore it on this finger.” She tapped his left middle finger. “You gave it to me on our way to see Ian to ask him about the wormholes. Hold on one sec.”

She set down her glass, then moved around him to go into her bedroom, where she pulled the heavy, but now cool and silent ring from its slot in the bottom drawer of her jewelry box. When she returned to the kitchen, he was right where she’d left him, in his chair, still looking as if he was trying to figure out a particularly nonsensical mathematical equation. 

Without preamble, she caught his left wrist and turned his hand palm up, then dropped the ring into it, where it no longer looked so comically huge. In his hand, it looked normal size, and he stared down at it. “You kept it?”

“Obviously.”

He looked up at her. “No, I mean, why?”

It was her turn to look at him as if he’d gone nuts. “Thorin, I was in love with you. And I thought I’d lost you forever. It was all I had left of you. Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

He turned his attention back to the ring, turning it over as if fascinated by the way it glinted in the low light offered up by the light above the window, which was itself above the sink. “And now?”

“What do you mean, and now?” 

He looked up, his fingers closing about the ring he held. “You said you were in love with me. Meaning that you no longer are?”

She didn't answer him right away, but instead reached for her wineglass to give her something to do as she tried to make sense of her own jumbled thoughts. “Thorin, I thought you were dead. People don't come back from the dead.”

“I wasn't dead, though.”

“But I didn't know that.” She studied the pale gold Chardonnay remaining her glass as if she’d never seen it before. “I was a wreck after Ravenhill, Thorin. And I couldn’t tell anyone because I knew from when you’d left here that no one remembered you. They’d have all thought I’d gone bonkers if I started telling people I’d been at that battle, that I’d been with you in Mirkwood, at the armory. That I was close enough to actual orcs to smell them.”

At his curious stare, she sighed softly. “Crazy, Thorin. They all would have thought I was crazy.”

“So what did you do?”

“I went home.” She drained the wine, then set the glass down before coming over to sink into the empty chair. “I went home to New Jersey and told my mother about this fictional man who had sacrificed himself to save his people and that I had fallen in love with him in the process. She humored me because that’s what moms do, but I think she would’ve wanted me to see a shrink, but then I ran away.”

“A shrink?”

“A head doctor. For people who are bonkers.”

He nodded. “And did you?”

“No. I knew I wasn't nuts. I knew it had really happened, no matter how impossible it might seem.” She traced her forefinger around the wineglass’ rim. She had to tell him about Rich. “Instead, I decided to run further than Jersey, so I ran away to the UK. England, mostly. I’d planned to do Scotland and Wales, but my plans… changed.”

“Why?”

“Because I needed a change of scenery.”

“No, I mean, why did your plans change?”

And there was her cue. Her heart beat faster now, sending her pulse thundering through her temples with enough force, she had to fight back a wince. It wasn't easy, but she met his blue eyes. “I met someone on the flight out of Kennedy. He had the seat next to mine and we just started talking and—”

“You chose to stay with him instead?”

His voice held no emotion and his eyes remained tranquil, and she wasn't sure if she was relieved about that or not. “Yes and no. He’s from London, so he showed me around and since he was raised in England, he offered to show me far more than simply London. So I spent the two weeks I’d planned on using to tour the whole UK to see England alone instead.”

“And did you enjoy your time with him?”

Pressing her lips together, Noelle nodded slowly. “I did. He made me smile again and little by little, pulled me out of the darkness. He made me happy and I desperately needed to feel that again.”

Thorin bobbed his head. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to mourn me, Noelle.”

“What about you? Three years is a long time, surely you moved on as well.”

Another nod, only this one more forceful than the last. “I did.”

Although she’d expected this, and she certainly couldn’t grow angry at him for doing exactly as she’d done, hearing it still stung to a certain degree. However, she forced herself to smile. “Did you? Good. So, does that mean Erebor has a—a queen?”

He held her gaze for so long, a hint of concern fluttering through his eyes, that she braced herself to hear an affirmative answer. 

However, he shook his head slowly. “No. There isn’t. I thought there might be, but then…”

His voice trailed off and he suddenly seemed very fascinated by the woodgrain pattern in the small table between them. “I began feeling as if something was wrong, as if I wasn't where I supposed to be. As if I—”

“Was with the wrong person?”

He looked up, a hint of surprise lighting in his eyes. “How did you know?”

“Because I felt it as well. And that was before the dreams.”

His brows almost met, he knit them so tightly. “You had strange dreams?”

She nodded. “I dreamed about Ravenhill, and I had your hand against my face and I felt—”

“I touched your cheek.”

Somehow, his words didn't surprise her. Instead, she smiled and nodded. “You touched my cheek. And I’d wake up and expect you to be there beside me.”

“But it was another instead.”

“It was another instead.” She drew in a deep breath, bracing herself once more as she asked, “Was there another beside you as well?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She couldn’t contain her surprise, her eyes going wide as she blurted, “Was there ever another woman beside you?”

He offered up a mild smile at her question. “Do you not recall what I told you about dwarves and intimacy?”

“That once you find your One, you remain faithful to them even in death.”

“Exactly. And I think that is partly why I’ve not yet taken a wife.” 

“But you knew I wasn't coming back and as far as your world was concerned, I never existed. You could have slept with another woman.”

“I could have, I suppose. But I loved you.”

She didn't miss his use of the past tense either, and sighed softly. “So what do we do now? Am I supposed to help you get back home again? What?”

“I don't know.” He sat back in his chair, setting the silver ring on the table before him. “Tell me, are you still with the man you met on the plane?”

“Not anymore, no. We broke up a few weeks ago. And you?”

He hesitated and she knew what that meant. “Her name is Thalia. She’s—” 

“You don’t have to explain, Thorin. It’s okay. I get the picture.”

“The picture?” His forehead furrowed.

“I understand.” 

“Ah. I see.”

“And you’re still with her.” It wasn't a question. She knew the answer before the words even left her mouth. 

“I am.”

“Good. I’m glad you found someone who makes you happy. And it’s good if she’s really your One. It probably should be a girl dwarf, you know, especially with you being a dwarf yourself and all.” She pushed the chair away from the table and stood. “So, I guess then we see how we get you home, which probably isn’t going to be quite so easy this time around, since we both know how you got sent home the first time.”

A low chuckle bubbled to his lips and to her surprise, his eyes darkened slightly. “I do indeed remember.”

Heat shot through her as their eyes met and she slowly shook her head. “No, not this time, Thorin. I’m not a home wrecker.”

“A—”

“You’ve got a girlfriend, Thorin. I’m not sleeping with a guy who’s in a relationship. And since you’re with her, that means I wasn’t your One to begin with, no matter what you tried to tell yourself.”

“I’m not entirely sure of that, you know.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure of it. So, we should get some sleep—me in my bed and you on the sofa—and come tomorrow we can figure out just how else we might get you back to your girlfriend, who’s probably wondering where you’ve vanished to anyway.”

“Noelle, wait.”

He reached for her as he rose from his chair, but she shifted to move beyond his reach, almost darting out into the living room. She couldn't help it. She knew it was stupid and hypocritical and that she had no grounds whatsoever to be troubled by his confession. After all, she’d also been in a relationship since returning from Middle Earth. But the difference was, he was still with this faceless woman named Thalia. As far as she was concerned, that was a huge difference. 

Not only that, but it was a huge difference that hurt almost as much as losing him at Ravenhill had hurt. So no matter how she tried to tell herself she had no right to feel the way she did, it was pointless. She didn't listen to herself. 

Thorin came into the living room as she was making up the sofa for him. “Noelle, I—”

“You don't have to explain anything,” she told him, shaking her head as she set a folded quilt on the sofa arm. “Really. Life goes on, right? Mine did, too. So I really can’t be mad at you for realizing that I wasn't your One and I’m not mad at you for it. Promise.”

“You seem angry.”

“Nope.” She shook her head again. “I’m fine. And I’ll help you get home again. I just don't really know how. But, I’ll figure it out and I’ll send you home to your beautiful dwarf girl and you can live happily ever after. So, I should get some sleep, because I don't even know where to begin to figure this out, and honestly? I’m beat. It’s been a long day.”

Thorin reached for her hand, catching it before she could step away from him, and the moment they made contact, her heart leapt and heat swept through her. He linked his fingers with hers. “I don't know that I’m meant to go back.”

“Either way, we know that this can’t go any further than this.” She squeezed his hand for emphasis. “Because we know what happens if it does go further. So, either way, I lose and I’m really not strong enough to do that again.”

He slipped his hand from hers, his expression going serious. “I suppose you’ve got a point. Perhaps Science Man might help us?”

“I highly doubt it. But I can always ask him again.” She moved to the doorway between the living room and the short hallway leading to her bedroom. “Anyway, good night, Thorin. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night,” he replied softly as she padded toward her bedroom, adding an even softer, “amrâlimê.”

She froze. My love.

Damn it. In all the times she wished he’d return, or wished that she would wake up and find herself on the golden floor in Erebor’s Hall of Kings, lying in Thorin’s arms again, she never thought it would happen. And now that it had happened, there could be nothing between them on a physical level because she just wasn't strong enough to lose him again.

The trouble was, she wasn't strong enough to resist him, either.

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Note: At the end of December, I will be cleaning up my tag list, so if you'd like to continue to be tagged, please let me know. Otherwise, I'll assume you're no longer interested in receiving these notifications and will take you off the list. Thanks!

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[moosefrog]

lolol I took a sketch from 2017 and tried painting it with just one layer of colour. Also, you just know Thorin's ducklips were for Bilbo.

From a Hobbit Hockey AU I dabbled with.

[possibly-a-table-or-just-gay]

@enbyofdionysos I was in the mood to make one if these again and the collage you posted got me so inspired I made this, hope you don't mind :)

[heyitzbud]

Okay okay okay I think i need to write this (hopefully) (maybe) but Vampire!Thorin but specifically when hes neck deep in gold sickness and bloodlust

[tetchy-frog]

Thorn!

Just reposting a quick/messy Howl!Thorin I drew for a lovely person in my ask box for easy access :D

[heyitsjustmoi]

New chapters are up! Check out how Thorin, King of Erebor, blushed just because Bilbo asked him to be his friend. What an adorable loser Thorin is hahaha!😄

[khazadaimenu]

Fili x OC, AU + headcanons, Part 2

Some more stuff coming your way. I decided to even break it into parts and leave links here.

This isn't always going to be in order, rather how it comes to me, in pieces of a puzzle. I apologise for that in advance.

This second part is mostly events, but there'll be more hc in the future.

Part 1 is here

Part 1 jist: There are some hc about Fili and love. Then Fili is saved by a human OC. He develops feelings, but buries them. The human leaves, he realises his mistake. He's facing an arranged marriage. Decides to go ahead with it out of desperation and sense of duty.

My OC travels between worlds. Goes by she/they (used interchangeably here). Originally from our world, but acquired an ability to travel elsewhere. It's not a destiny, more of a "circumstances meet a natural inclination" type of thing. There are other forces at play, more later.

Wherever they go, they try to make things better, devise a mission for themselves. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Initially they can't pick where to go, rather are pulled by this or that universe and are "spit out" once the deed is done.

Always loved Tolkienverse, when ends up in Middle-earth, decides to save the line of Durin. Succeeds by the skin of their teeth.

They love Fili but know that it's unwise, so continue on their journey. Some years pass, but she can't stay away. Learns how to travel bw worlds at will, and goes back, just in time to witness Fili about to say his vows.

Fili realises the horrible thing he was about to do. His One is back and he's about to join his life with someone else! But now he doesn't have to! (He never really had to, and the guilt will eat away at him, the conflicting notions of right and wrong tearing him apart, but this comes later.)

There's a giant commotion, all hell breaks loose.

Imagine a person on a horse in the midst of a sea of dwarves. That's them, that's the OC.

Thorin and Dis frozen, don't know how to react. Their nephew/son is being kidnapped from his own wedding and seems to be enjoying it.

She uses whatever bits of magic she picked up here and there, to hold the guards at bay. They escape, Kili and Tauriel piggybacking because what other options do they have. "Wait for us!"

And now the real fun begins. Jumping between worlds. Trying to figure out a purpose for themselves. Or should they try to go back and fix things?

(Why I'm keeping Tauriel. Because I like subverted expectations, renegades and breaking with tradition. Their relationship means a lot to me in that context and I choose to ignore it was a marketing ploy. Freedom to choose who you love and your own path mean the world to me.

That's a huge part of why I love Bagginshield and Gigolas as well.

But Legolas and his neon-blue eyes shouldn't be anywhere near the Hobbit trilogy. And the love triange is nonexistent here)

[dragon-pups]

Arda Marauders 8/8 Squad

Firstly big shout out to @shadowthestoryteller for picking out and naming most of the Batch's steeds, I am not a horse girlie (affectionate) and wouldn't of had a clue where to start. So thanks Shadow💞.

This may stay as a fun art project, I currently have plans to write it, but my brain chemicals don't always agree with me.

The story starts when season three ends and I have the major beats of the batch's adventures before the hobbit planned out. Once I know how the season ends I'll have a better idea on how to begin. Either way if you want character beats or screenshot moments (one-shots) that may or may not be in their story just ask and I'll fulfill to the best of my abilities.

Individual Character Cards:

Echo

Hunter

Wrecker

Tech

Crosshair

Omega

Batcher