#Thorin Oakenshield and the other six fathers

[catbowserauthor]

Hobbit Story: Principles

Another story in my "Durin's Line Endures" AU, a re-write universe of the BOTFA. In this piece, Thorin is finally meeting with the Six Fathers of the other Dwarf families to perform the King Select--the official ritual where the other Six Fathers must give their support for his claim to the throne before they can make it official. While Thorin has gained many followers, he also still have many doubters. His two sister-sons are all too happy to set them straight.

Fili was quite sure that he had never been quite so frightened in all his life.

            The battle outside Erebor had been full of tension and fear but it had been tension and fear that he knew how to tackle. He knew from training with his uncle and Dwalin that you took the anxiety that war generated and molded it to suit your needs. He had done the best he could with that but the fear he felt now was entirely different.

            Taking a deep breath, he let his reflection stare back at him.

            In many ways, he looked the part. Formal but not overwhelming tunic and slacks, hair braided into the symbols of the Line of Durin and his feats as a warrior set amid the firmly set face. He knew that he would not look any better no matter how long he stared. The scars from the battle had healed and their marks would not easily fade.

            He fingered the braid that hung by his face, empty without its mithril bead. While he knew that nothing could be done about it, it still ached his heart each time he saw the empty loose hairs. He hoped, prayed, that they would be able to salvage enough material, of some kind, to recreate it.

            It had been the bead that his Uncle Frerin had left for him after his death and while he had never thought of the implications of it before, the idea that his uncle would not be able to recognize him in Mahal’s Halls without that special bead…it made him weary.

            Turning on his heels, he slipped from his room into his brother’s, slipping through the small connecting hallway. He wasn’t surprised to find Kili flopped face down on the bed, his slacks and undertunic on but his outer shirt and boots flung on the floor. Kili had never been one to hide his emotions and stress reeked off him like a bad fever.

            “Kili, c’mon.” He picked the outer shirt off the ground and gently twapped his brother’s rear with it. “The King Select is going to start soon and I really don’t want to make Uncle any more worried than he already is.”

            After a moment pause, Kili sat up, paused and reached down to scratch Goldfire’s ears where the pup had remained since early that morning. He accepted the tunic from his brother and pulled it over his head. “Do you think the Dwarf Fathers will challenge Uncle?”

            Fili sighed heavily. “I don’t know. The Firebeards are a stubborn lot—“

            “They’ve got no right!” Kili snapped, fumbling with one of his braids. “They don’t know anything about what Uncle did. He’s earned the throne, more than anyone else ever will!” his face was a lovely shade of red and Fili would have not been surprised if steam were to rise from his skull if they’d been caught in the rain outside.

            He spoke the truth though. Fili was glad that he had a younger brother to state what he was thinking. He knew this was tradition, the King Select, but as far as he was concerned, it was the most foolish and wasteful tradition. After all, what did these dwarf families know? They certainly hadn’t thought it necessary to support their Uncle’s claim before the death of Smaug. They had not been here these past few months to watch their Uncle build up from literally nothing. Now, with a lot of the work done, THEY had the right to determine their Uncle’s claim?

            Unfair, all of it but all the same, they needed to support their Uncle, their King, not make it more difficult. “I know that and by the time this silly meeting is over, so will they, Kili.” He added, his voice firm. “We’ll make sure they know it.”

            Frowning still, nerves quite evident in his face, Kili nonetheless nodded and worked, absently, on his left braid. He had done it at least three times already but each time, his nervous fidgeting resulted in more knots than anything. He had never been very good at doing his own braids though he did very well at others’.

            “Here,” Fili took the mithril bead from his sibling and set a foot on the bedframe so he could lean over a bit. “Let me do it.”

            The younger brother reached out, curled his hand over Fili’s. “You should use it, Fili. You’re representing the crown prince. You should use it for yours…” He gestured to the loose braid to his brother’s left side but Fili immediately frowned and shook his head.

            “No. This bead was for you, not me, Kili.”

            “But you’re supposed to be the crown Prince and…”

            “And they can accept that one of my beads was lost on the journey here.” The sharpness to his tone made it clear that they weren’t discussing this anymore.  The loss of Uncle Frerin’s bead was a sore spot and he would not accept his little brother’s. If anyone would be denied the acceptance of Uncle Frerin when their time came to move to Mahal’s Halls, it would be him, not Kili.  

The younger dwarf relented, his fingers falling limp to his lap. The gentle lapping of Goldfire’s tongue on his hand was relaxing, in its own weird way, and he gave the small wolf pup a rub to the head in thanks. As childish as it might have been, he wished that they could bring the wolves into the meeting with them. Whether he wanted that because of the support they would bring them or so they could tell them to eat the other dwarf lords should they speak against their Uncle’s good nature he wasn’t sure.

            “There.” Fili finished with a tightening to the bead and smiled, nervously. “Come on, brother. The last thing we want to do is make Thorin wonder if we decided to come late. He is anxious enough.”

            Nodding, Kili stood and after a moment of scrutinizing one another (they both had forgone the more regal clothing as it was not proper until they were crowned; dark blue tunics with slacks and patterns of the Durin line were sufficient) the two dwarf princes left their chambers, nearly colliding with Balin in the hall. The white haired dwarf merely looked them up and down before giving them a warm smile, “You look the part of the Princes of Erebor, laddies.”

            Fili nodded, his face having taken on the stoic look he had been trained into but Kili simply remarked “Good, because we don’t feel like it. Are they here? Where’s Uncle?” He was talking fast, a trait both he and Fili had when they were unnerved.

            Smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring gaze, Balin replied, “Aye, they are here. Rather surprised us by coming as one group. Bilbo had the foresight to start sending in ale and meats almost as soon as we found a room. Hopefully, that will have loosened some of their attitude. They seemed less gruff when we moved them to the Meeting Rooms.” He answered the second question, “Your Uncle has already gone with Dwalin to gather in the King’s Council Chambers.”

            The two younger dwarves nodded but they said nothing verbally, just started to follow the elder down the hall. This was it. This was what their entire quest was laid upon; as much as they didn’t think tradition was necessary (and indeed, how much most of the dwarves living here thought it superfluous) one of the things that being a ruler meant was having the support of your neighbors. That was what this was for; for their uncle to gain their support. For all the other dwarf families to acknowledge that their Uncle was right to lead them, to unite them, to bind them all together, as the Line of Durin had always done.

            He was right for it but getting stubborn, hard-headed Dwarf Fathers to admit to it was another matter entirely.

            Their walk continued without speech and everyone they passed in the halls would pause and give a bow of encouragement before going back to their work. It was both unnerving and encouraging. Perhaps the Dwarf Fathers had seen the devotion of everyone here, the way that everyone had been looked after, how Thorin had done everything he was capable of doing to provide shelter, food. It was impossible NOT to see it.

            They spied Bilbo, just a hint of him, in the distance, sending in all manner of meats, breads and ale to the gathered dwarves. The scent of Bilbo’s famous sweet meat kabobs was unmistakable. Well, they HAD told Bilbo that a dwarf’s stomach was the key to friendships. Leave it to the clever hobbit to attempt to lighten the tension. They gave him a half wave of appreciation as they passed by.

            Balin occasionally glanced back at the two younger ones who followed him without a peep of their usual mischief. While Fili kept his composure as Thorin had hammered into his head, Kili was not quite as good at it. He was being careful about his posture, his stance but the way he would twist his hands and chew at his lower lip, the nervousness was quite apparent.

            They passed the throne slowly and took the pathway to the right. Both Princes looked over their shoulders at the seat where their Uncle would sit, where he would rule. The spot that he had told them about, how one day they would earn it back and that he would show them to wonder of their bloodline. How he would show them what the Dwarven People were capable of when they were not exiled and pursued.

            The Dwarf Fathers _had_ to see that.

            They had to _make_ them see that.

            “Fili. Kili.”

            Balin’s gentle inquiry shook the two princes out of their deep thoughts. The white bearded dwarf had stopped a few feet ahead, leaving the Chamber Door looming ahead, the seal of the House of Durin stamped into its golden sheen.

            “Balin.” Fili answered the inquiry. The older dwarf had been their mentor in many things and much like Dwalin, had proved more than a teacher but an extended member of the family. The look of seriousness on his face demanded attention and while anxiety practically poured off them both like water, they set their eyes and waited.

            “I won’t lie to you, laddies.” The elder dwarf tried to smile reassuringly, “This is not going to be an easy meeting. Your uncle is not without his allies but he is not without his critics as well.”

Frowning, arms folded over his chest, the dark haired Prince remarked, “They don’t have the right to say anything. They don’t know anything about Uncle. Not what’s important anyway. This is stupid.”

Fili nudged his brother with his elbow “But it _is_ tradition and that’s important to Thorin.” He hissed the name of their uncle with reverence.

“I know, I know…” Kili sighed heavily. “I just wish politics were less complicated.”

Chuckling a little, the elder Fundin brother offered, “Don’t we all, laddie.” He looked from KIli to Fili and back again a few times. “I know that my lessons on etiquette were not the most thrilling to either of you but—“ Balin offered.

            “We’ll remember,” Kili insisted.

            Fili added, “We may not have enjoyed them but we did learn, Balin. Anything we can do to help Uncle, we will.”

            Warmth flooded Balin’s eyes and it spread to his smile behind his beard “Aye, aye, I know you will. Do not take their words to heart, particularly the red bearded one. Ol’ Firebeard will be the hardest on your Uncle.”

            Fili nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes “We know, Balin. He showed up a few times when we were kids and I wish we had not. Always showed up, asking Uncle’s time and resources. For someone always showing up and asking for a favor, he was rather full of himself…”

            Snorting, Kili remarked, “Full of himself? He was lulkh.”

            Fili set his brother with a look. “Okay, no argument but I doubt calling him that will exactly win us any points, little brother.”

He pouted but nodded in agreement. “He still is one.”

 The elder prince remarked softly, “Maybe but we can be better than that.” He addressed their elder with a wide smile. “We will win them over with truth, Balin. Nothing else be needed.”

            Kili eyed his brother out of the corner of his eye. “And if they start dragging Uncle’s name through the mud, you’ll stand there and allow it?” He had seen Firebeard once or twice as a child and he had hated the dwarf both times.  

            Teeth clenched at mere thought, Fili retorted, “I will present myself honorably, as will you.” He eyed his younger sibling’s challenging look. “But I make no promises.”

            The King’s advisor shook his head but reminded them, “You two are both strong sons of Durin. The loyalty and ferocity of our forefather burns in you both. You are Princes of Erebor, just as your Uncle is King.” He clasped each of their forearms tight a moment, “All we need do is show it.”

            With that small spark of encouragement, Balin pulled from them, continued the rest of the way to the door and pushed them open.

            The two younger dwarves followed.

            They had seen the room. Thorin had shown it to them when they had begun to renovate the Throne Room but they’d never spent a lot of time in the Council Room. It was a wide open room with a broad table that was split into two half circles, with an elevated stone platform in between the two halves and three chairs on each half. It was where the King Select occurred and when it concluded, the selected would rise to the platform and the six clans would swear their support to him.

            The strongest feature that stood out though was the carvings on the wall. Made of stone and created with all kinds of gems, there were faces of all kinds of Dwarves decorating the room. Past Kings, from Thror all the way back to Durin the Deathless. They circled towards the ceiling where a visage of Mahal gazed down at them.

            It gave weight to the room.

            The spied Thorin right away. He was dressed in the same dark blue that they wore, the colors of Durin’s line, but he had not worn the cloak nor the crown. Simple tunics, slacks, over tunics. Nothing regal about it and the type of look they had always associated with the strong energy of their line. Thorin was not seated but rather stood between the two tables, with the platform opposite him, to his back.

            To his left, sat three dwarven lords and to the right three more. There was ol’ Firebeard, to the far left, looking as disagreeable as always. Fili suspected the old dwarf was incapable of being happy. Every time they saw him when they were little, he had that same look of sourness. The way he looked at Thorin though made Fili hiss through clenched teeth. This was going to be a lot harder than he initially thought.

Dwalin stood to Thorin’s left and while he wasn’t saying anything, you could feel the tension. The bald warrior looked like he was looking for any excuse to clobber one of the bickering Lords.

As the doors closed behind them, Thorin lifted his head and calmness flowed from him.

            “Ah, here they are. Balin, my wisest and most trusted advisor and my two sister-sons!” He offered to the Dwarf Lords, “Fili and Kili, Sons of Durin’s Line.”

            “Sons of Dis and Kalin,” Firebeard corrected Thorin with harshness. “Linked to you through your sister they may be, Thorin but it remains to be seen if we bestow the title of Durin’s Line upon them or you before the day is done.”

            Thorin clenched his jaw. An insult no graver there was. This dwarf meant to imply his sister-sons were not worthy of the blood that flowed through their veins?! Especially after what they had done on this quest? The names they had earned? The feats that would have historians arguing over which moniker to grace them with? Oh, he would like to show him that which he dared insult…

            “We may proceed,” Thorin finally voiced.

[fizzyxcustard]

“we're going to be family!” Thorin

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None. Just pure happiness and fluffy goodness.

Summary: You and Thorin are both dying to be parents. And finally you get that good news.

Comments/Notes: If you want to be added or removed from any tags, please let me know. I'm starting to become more aware that a lot of my fics and prompts sound samey, so I do apologise. I do feel like I'm finding it difficult to come up with new material. :( It's also a little bit short, but I do hope you like it.

It had become a regular schedule now: see Oin every couple of months, and each time the blow of bad news chipped more away from your happiness. Ever since you were a child and you knew that one day you wanted little ones of your own; your maternal instinct had always been strong. And now that you were married to Thorin, everything was aligned. He was the perfect person to be a father, with you as the mother. The main two puzzle pieces fit perfectly.

This time, however, Oin's face gave a different expression to what it normally did. "Hmmm," he mused, his hands pressing into your abdomen. "And when did you say you last bled?"

"Six weeks ago. I even try and track my most fertile time, but my times of bleeding can be a little erratic," you said, no longer feeling that embarrassment which you used to. "And now..." Tears welled in your eyes at the very thought of having to live without your one dream having never come to fruition.

It had even come to it where you now stopped Thorin coming with you, because you saw the disappointment in his face, so you met with Oin at regular intervals without Thorin's knowledge.

"Congratulations," Oin said, smiling.

"W...what?" Your hands were shaking and you looked down at your stomach. "I'm....pregnant?"

Oin just let the smile grow, an affirming sign.

Your hands brushed your stomach and you closed your eyes tight, thanking Mahal. You had prayed time and time again, as you lay looking up at the bed chamber ceiling after each time you were intimate with your husband.

"I'm sure that I don't have to tell you: no drinking, smoking...."

Oil's words drifted away into some other area of your consciousness, as you reeled in excitement at the news.

***

Everything was prepared, so you stood back and felt proud of your accomplishment. Candles, flowers, the best cutlery. A fine meal would be delivered to your room in the next hour, and then a relaxing bath. You were dressed in one of your best gowns and matching slippers. Both were of purple satin. And around your shoulders was a black shawl, embroidered with roses.

Thorin would soon be back. The fluttering of anticipation had been in your stomach all afternoon since getting back from Oin's healing chambers. All you could think of was the preparations that could now begin: crib, baby clothing, toys. There would no longer be a frustration and hidden sadness between you both; this would make things better, make things happy again like they were in the first days of your marriage.

Soon Thorin came back into the room. "Good evening, my love," he whispered, approaching you. He raised his hand to your cheek and kissed you gently upon the lips. Both of you sank into the kiss as you opened your lips, and his tongue delved in.

Drawing away, Thorin smiled. "Something is different." He chuckled. "You have prepared a special dinner, I see? But it is no anniversary or day of festivity."

"Come and sit with me."

Thorin by now was growing a little impatient and excited. He could see a sparkle in your eyes and a contentment that had been missing for a couple of years now. In his heart, he already knew what the news was, and smiled along with you. He watched you as you sat down, that child-like smile filling your face. It was the same smile he remembered upon your first dance after your wedding. It was the same smile you gave him when you consummated your marriage that very night.

"You're with child, aren't you?" Thorin asked.

You brushed a piece of hair behind your ear and exhaled, then giggled. Your gaze met his. "Oh, Thorin. We're going to be a family."

***

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[luna-writes-stuff]

CHAPTER VI

A Kili x OC fanfic

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Tw: Ankle injury (sprained), being chased by wargs, mention of violence and description of usage of weapons, but it's against orcs and wargs, so it's okay.

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Wargs. Why did it have to be wargs?

"Oh, what's the stench?" A dwarf asked, already nearing the cave they had been so desperately looking for. "It's a troll hoard. Be careful what you touch." Gandalf advised, letting everyone pass inside.

As the dwarves all entered the cave, Raewyn waited outside. "You won't go in?" A deep voice asked, nearly causing an aneurism of annoyance to run trough the woman.

"I'm grateful for what I have. I need not more than that what I already possess." She spoke, turning her head towards the dwarf. "You have nothing." Thorin spoke, glaring towards the woman.

"Grow a pair." She retorted, now turning her entire body towards him. The dwarf looked at her in anger and stepped closer. Although he had a slightly more muscular build than Raewyn, she did not back away. On the contrary, she took a step towards him, her head high and her face strong. Only a small remainder of space was in between them, but neither backed off.

"Watch your mouth, Asha." The dwarf hissed.

"Watch your back, Oakenshield." She returned, her voice just as venomous.

"Children, children." Gandalf spoke up, his staff now between the two bitter figures, urging them to take some distance. "There is no need for hostility amongst the company." He scolded, primarily looking towards Raewyn, who ignored his glance, but kept her eyes on Thorin all the same. When the company's leader turned away from her, she received a frown from Gandalf, but said nothing. When no response was heard, Gandalf followed the dwarf, leaving Raewyn alone with her thoughts. Or so, she thought.

"The two of you really don't like each other, do you?" Someone asked, causing Raewyn to show a tiny smile at the voice.

"No, we don't." She answered, looking towards the hobbit.

"What happened between you and him?" He asked, sitting on a large boulder, his face at the same height as Raewyn's. "You read books, don't you?" She asked teasingly, sitting down next to him.

"Yes, but none of them are about Ashas. I only know them because of my mother's stories." Bilbo confessed. The woman scoffed at the statement.

"You sound like Kili."

The hobbit looked at her confused, giving her the hint to continue talking. "His mother used to tell him stories about my family too. Not quite correct, I'm afraid." When she stopped talking, Bilbo spoke up again.

"Is it true that the Clan of Six used to protect the Shire?" He wondered aloud. "Aye," Raewyn answered with a smile, "there are no creatures worth protecting more than hobbits."

"And are you truly the daughter of Raegon Asha, leader of the clan?" The woman winced at the title, but responded nonetheless. "Yes, Raegon was my father, but he was not the leader of us. Ashas are all equal. I had just as much to say as my father did."

"Does your armour truly come from the Western sea?" The hobbit continued asking, making Raewyn laugh. "No! Where do these stories about the Western sea come from? Our armor is forged from the mountains, just as any other is." She looked a Bilbo, tilting her head slightly.

"You're talking about my family as if we are legends."

"But you are!" The hobbit defended. "Everyone in the Shire knows of the tale of the Clan of Six! How they slaughtered orcs on our borders, how they fought at the battle of the Mines or Moria, how they-" "You already knew the story Balin was telling you?" Raewyn interrupted, smirking at the creature. Bilbo's ears turned slightly red as he looked down at the floor.

"Well....maybe a little, but not from the perspective of the dwarves!" The hobbit justified.

After a moment of silence, he looked back up, staring towards the dwarves in the cave, who were now burying a chest. "Why didn't Balin mention your father?" Bilbo asked quietly, almost feeling as if he had crossed a boundary.

"They don't really like him anymore." The woman explained easily, though her eyes held a look of hurt. "And since he died, they shoved that hate onto me." Bilbo's face saddened at her confession. "That's not fair." He said, trying to defend Raewyn. "You did nothing wrong!"

"Well....." The woman pondered, her mind bringing up distant memories.

"Bilbo." Gandalf suddenly spoke up, holding up a big dagger. "Here. This is about your size." The hobbit inspected the weapon, but shook his head.

"I-I can't take this."

"The blade is of Elvish make, which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby." The wizard explained, shoving the blade into Bilbo's hands.

"I have...I have never used a sword in my life." He argued, his hands clumsily grasping onto the hilt of the dagger.

"And I hope you never have to. But if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one." The pilgrim spoke wisely, his attention now directed towards Raewyn. He opened one of his hands towards her, holding up a small, yet heavy object. The woman jumped off of the boulder and walked towards the wizard, inspecting the small object. It was round with marking on the side, an intricately carved 'A' shown proudly. When she spotted it, her breath got stuck in her throat, her hand hovering over the wizard's.

"It was in an empty chest." Gandalf explained, turning the woman's hand and letting the object fall into her hands.

"My father's bead....." Raewyn nearly whispered, her voice shaking. "How did they get this?"

Now it was Bilbo's turn to hop off the boulder, walking towards the woman, wanting to see the bead for himself too. When he saw it, Raewyn quickly brushed the dust off, the bead not yet shining, but the carvings more visible than earlier.

"It's beautiful." Bilbo gaped, having never properly seen a dwarven bead before.

"Something's coming!" Thorin interrupted, his sword now held high. Raewyn quickly put the bead in her pocket, grabbing her bow and nocking one arrow. She stepped in front of Bilbo, who was struggling to draw his dagger.

"Stay together! Hurry, now! Arm yourselves!" Gandalf shouted, huddling the company together.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" An all-too-familiar voice shouted. Raewyn let out a sigh of relief and stored her arrow.

"Radagast." Gandalf announced, smiling to himself. "It's Radagast the Brown!" He puts his sword away as he approached approaches the brown wizard. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you, Gandalf." The man explained, his face worried, although it quickly changed when he saw Raewyn. "Raewyn! It's been too long. I came across Farris earlier!" He told happily, observing her figure in wonder.

"My, you've grown."

"It's been a while." The woman answered, smiling at the unique man.

"Radagast." Gandalf urged, impatiently waiting for why Radagast would be looking for the grey wizard. "Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong." Radagast revealed, the wizard yet again shocked. "Yes?" Gandalf went on.

The brown wizard went to speak, yet couldn't form the word. "Just give me a minute. Um...Oh! I had a thought and now I've lost it. It was...it was was right there, on the tip of my tongue!" He struggled, until he noticed something. "Oh! It's not a thought at all! It's a silly old... stick insect." He observed as Gandalf grabbed the small animal. The dwarves and Raewyn cringed at the sight, while Bilbo simply stood there, extremely confused.

As the two wizards continued conversing, the company found time for themselves, either smoking or cleaning weapons. Bilbo had decided to study his dagger as Raewyn sat beside him, playing with the little pieces of meat in her pouch. It had been a few days since she had last seen Farris, but then again, the owl had a mind of her own. Sometimes, she wouldn't come to show up for week. Not that it did anything to ease Raewyn's mind. She was thankful for Radagast's information on her companion, for she had already begun to miss her dearly.

"What are you daydreaming about?" Someone suddenly asked, knocking Raewyn fresh out of her mind. When she looked towards the source of the voice, she could see Kili kneeling in front of her, an always-prominent smile on his face.

"Nothing of importance," she began, but noticing the look on his face, she decided to continue. "but if you must know, I was thinking about Farris."

"Farris?"

"My owl."

Kili 'awwwed' in understanding, now looking up at the sky as if he would spot the owl. Suddenly, a howling noise filled the forest, as all the dwarves, including Raewyn, quickly stood up.

"Is that a wolf? Are there....are there wolves here?" Bilbo asked, making Raewyn shake her head, fearing for the little hobbit.

"Wolves? No, that's no wolf." Bofur spoke, his voice shaking visibly. Just then, two wargs charged at the group. Raewyn quickly grabbed her bow and shot one of the wolf-ish creatures in its head, almost immediately followed by a second arrow, which was launched from Kili's side. He shot the young woman a quick wink, before going in to attack the other one. As much as he tried, Thorin had reached the warg first, slicing its throat as the beast collapsed.

"Warg scouts!" He announced, looking towards Gandalf in particular. "Which means an orc pack is not far behind!"

"Orc pack?" Bilbo stuttered. "Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?!" Gandalf asked furiously, marching towards Thorin. "No one."

"Who did you tell?!"

"No one, I swear!" The dwarf defended. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

"We are being hunted." Raewyn revealed uncomfortably. "We have to get out of here." Dwalin commanded, already walking towards the open space of the forest.

"We can't! We have no ponies. They bolted!" Ori, the youngest dwarf , said. Panic settled amongst the company, as Raewyn unconsciously stepped closer towards Kili and Bilbo.

"I'll draw them off." Radagast tried. "These are Gundabad wargs. They will outrun you!" The grey wizard exclaimed.

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits." The other said confidently.

"I'd like to see them try."

And with that, the brown wizard took off on his sled. As Radagast left the sight of the company, Gandalf walked in front of the fifteen, pointing towards the open planes in the distance. "Come on!" The company started running, following the grey wizard. Raewyn's ankle shouted in protest, but she knew that right now, running was better than stopping and whining. Her bow was still in her hand, as she hadn't had the time to restore it. Bilbo was running right beside her, doing his best to keep up. She could see him tiring, but couldn't do anything to help him.

"One foot in front of the other, Bilbo." She encouraged him, causing a smile of appreciation to be send her way.

"Stay together." Gandalf ushered as he pushed the company behind one of the boulders, hiding them from view. In the distance, Radagast sled could be heard, the orc pack following closely behind him. When the coast was clear, the group began running again. Raewyn quickly grabbed Bilbo's hand and dragged him with her, as the hobbit had not yet noticed they had started to run.

"Move!" Thorin urged everyone, leading the group with Gandalf. Fleeing across the plain, they halted again behind a huge stack of rocks.

"Ori, no!" The leader grabbed the youngest dwarf, who was about to come out of hiding. "All of you, come on, come on! Quick!" The grey wizard spoke, now walking towards another safe spot.

"Where are you leading us?" Thorin asked, but Gandalf gave no response and kept on running. Raewyn had now let go off Bilbo and ran behind him, making sure he kept up. When they neared another boulder, Raewyn's ankle gave out, a simple step reaching the floor in an uncomfortable position. She quickly swayed to the right, leaning against the rocky surface. A quiet hiss escaped her mouth as she secured her bow to her back again. Fili was beside her immediately, supporting her waist so that she had the ability to lean against him. No words were spoken between them, and she was grateful for it. She didn't want another scolding or argument. Right now, all she wanted was to get some rest.

On top of the boulder, a warg had now appeared, sniffing the air loudly as an orc descended. Thorin cast a look to Kili, who nodded and quickly grabbed his bow and shot the warg down. Both creatures fell down as the orc let out a loud whine, before Dwalin quickly ended his screaming. Multiple wargs howled in response, causing panic to settle yet again.

"Move! Run!" Gandalf shouted. The dwarves ran as quick as they could as Raewyn did her best to keep up.

"There they are!" Gloin noticed, to which Gandalf responded with an alternate route. "This way! Quickly!"

"There's more coming!" Kili alarmed.

"Ki­li! Shoot them!" Thorin ordered, knowing they would not win over short distances. As Kili shot a few orcs, the company moved towards each other, circling around Bilbo as they each took their own stance.

"We're surrounded!" Fili remarked, his arm still tightly around Raewyn's waist.

"Where's Gandalf?"

"He's abandoned us!" Dwalin decided.

The much larger group of orcs drew nearer, causing Raewyn to push Fili's arm off of her. He looked at her confused, but she shook her head. "I got this." She grabbed her bow too and helped Kili knock a few orcs down.

"Hold your ground!" Thorin yelled, trying to steady the company.

"This way, you fools!" Gandalf suddenly spoke from behind them. He stood in front of a cave, signaling for the dwarves to come.

"Come on, move! Quickly! All of you!" Thorin exclaimed, nudging everyone forward. The dark-haired dwarf stood in front of the cave as he made sure every single one was secured to safety.

"Go, go, go!" Fili followed obediently, but when Kili stayed on the field to fight, Raewyn froze instantly.

"Kili!" She shouted, pointing towards the cave. She had his attention immediately. "Come on!" She said, half stumbling towards him. He quickly neared her, taking the earlier position of Fili.

"You're injured." He remarked as Raewyn held onto his arm. The two tried to run over the field as quick as they could, but at the moment, the young woman was a huge liability.

"Nothing I can't handle." Raewyn assured, quickly drawing her dagger and throwing it in between the eyes of a warg that came a little too close for her liking.

As they stumbled across the plains, Thorin kept shouting at them to hurry up, to the great annoyance of Raewyn. "Almost there." Kili reassured, holding onto her tighter as the orcs kept nearing at an alarming rate.

The woman looked behind quickly and noticed a warg pouncing towards the two. Without hesitation, she let go of Kili's arm and pushed him towards the floor, Raewyn dropping with him. The air spontaneously left their lungs as the warg jumped over their bodies. The dwarf looked up in shock when the warg charged towards them again.

Kili swiftly unsheathed Raewyn's sword and instantly stood up, swinging the weapon towards the beast. When it easily sliced through its skin, Kili kneeled down and helped Raewyn up, who was still struggling. When she stood back up, the two ran towards the cave again, jumping down the moment they were close enough.

As Thorin jumped in after them, Kili and Raewyn sat up, slowly regaining their breath. "Give me a warning.... next time you do that." Kili said in between heavy breaths as the woman slightly smiled at him.

"Let's hope there won't be a next time."

A loud horn suddenly sounded over the field, which was followed by an orc tumbling down the cave, an arrow impaled in its chest. "Elves." Thorin spoke in disgust.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or not?" Dwalin asked from the back of the cave.

"We follow it, of course!" Bofur decided, following the larger build dwarf.

"I think that would be wise." Gandalf joined, looking at the remainder of the company.

"Get up." Thorin spoke lowly towards Kili and Raewyn, although Raewyn knew it was particularly meant for her. The younger dwarf did not hesitate and stood back up, but instead of walking towards his uncle, he kneeled back down in front of the woman, assisting her in getting up too.

"Can you walk?" He asked, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"I can walk just fine." She said, dismissing his arm. When his face crossed with hurt, guilt overcame her. She softly patted his shoulder and gave him a soothing smile. "But thank you."

Those words seemed to satisfy him enough, because he showed her one of his well-known grins in a flash. When the two turned back around, they found that the company had already left, leaving them alone with Fili, who had been patiently waiting for both of them.

"We might want to catch up on the rest." Fili spoke through a smile, causing Raewyn to hobble forward.

"I think that would be a good idea." Kili said, following behind Raewyn, beside his brother, unaware of the destination this cave lead to.

——

Taglist: @m-sterboggins @errruvande

[ragsweas]

Hobbit Fic Rec List!

MODERN AU!

Hello! I always wanted to share a gigantic list of awesome works in Hobbit fanfic, but realized they are too many. So let's start small. A few modern AU that everybody has to read!

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How to fall in love in 100 days by Kytanna

As their lives intertwine, Thorin, Bilbo, and their nephews learn the meaning of finding a family, love and the hard path towards healing. All, over the course of a hundred days.

A lovely piece with all the cuteness and fluff.

Softer Strokes by autisticalistair

Thorin is a well-known artist living a secluded life in the Swiss Alps. Bilbo is a former history professor living in a trauma rehabilitation centre after a devastating accident that took his parents lives. Through a mutual friend, Bilbo finds himself in Switzerland, and Thorin finds himself with company for the next few months, and neither of them are prepared for what that will bring.

I'll never say 'I love you' by JustReadingMaybeWriting

Bilbo is a veterinary student who one night saves the life a handsome but wounded man. Bilbo should have called an ambulance. If he had called an ambulance, he wouldn't be in this weird mess. He certainly wouldn't be falling in love with the man he saved, who can't seem to leave him alone.

This one's a bit dark, but I love it.

painted blind by nasri

The last time Bilbo stepped foot in Aberdeen it was with a broken heart and a bachelor’s degree. All things considered, this time isn’t so different.

Plan B by Drenagon

Plan B: an alternative strategy; a contingency plan, devised for an outcome other than the expected plan.

Or, sending an unqualified temp to act as Thorin Oakenshield's PA because no one qualified can put up with him.

(He'd say they can't meet his standards. Of course he would.)

Meet Bilbo Baggins. He just became Plan B.

One Modern!AU I always wanted to read and this is just it! It's amazing!! And the whole COmpany is there!!

A Land Far Away by Prollyaghost (Callmerin)

"If we were in a different time or place, this story may have begun with ‘once upon a time’, or even ‘In a hole in the ground, there lived…’ But as it so happens, we are in this time and place, in the outskirts of London, where there are no ‘once upon a times’ and the only holes in grounds lead to sewage tunnels. There does happen to be, however, a man who has dedicated a great deal of his life studying these ‘once upon a time’s. He is an English teacher, enjoys afternoon teas with homemade raisin scones, and he most certainly does not believe in fairy-tales.

His name is Bilbo Baggins, and that last bit about him is about to change."

Bilbo Baggins, an English teacher who has never been outside of England, suddenly finds himself thrust into an adventure when a strange man named Thorin Oakenshield requires his help to fulfil his father’s dying wish. Turns out studying the niche topic of the ancient, fictional society of dwarves was more useful than his parents could have imagined. Plunged into a forgotten land, Thorin and Bilbo must find the mythical Arkenstone, before the legends of the past come back to haunt modern society.

Okay, this one's a WIP, but damn the premise is super interesting and honestly can't wait for the next update!

Nothing Gold Can Stay by perkynurples

Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

This is one of the fics that does not need an introduction. No matter how many times you read this, it isn't enough. And we all love Fili and Kili here.

What to do When Your Cat is an Asshole by lily_winterwood

“You have a cat?” asks the face on the screen. “Yes. His name’s Smaug, he’s orange, and he’s an asshole. Aren’t you, Smaug?” Surly Food Provider glowers at me, which, of course, I am immune to. “Aren’t you a little asshole?” I don’t see why he needs to call me that. My butthole is perfectly licked, and it smells wonderful.

The AU where Smaug is Thorin's asshole cat. Written for the Bagginshield Unexpected Anniversary.

This one's small, and hilarious and even better if you imagine Benedryl Cucumbersnatch narrating the whole thing

No Ordinary Love by badskippy

Bilbo and Ori have been best friends since they were ten years old and tragedy brought them together. Now, a new job, a sudden rainstorm, a chance meeting and budding romance with a burly, handsome stranger will not only alter their lives, but set in motion events that will change everyone around them, and reveal how lies, deceit and assumptions can leave deeper scars than the ones that can be seen.

WIP, unfinished, but damn was this an interesting tale. For anybody who loves angst, go give it a read!

Remember Me by thehistorygeek

Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield are destined to suffer. In every life they live, in every age, in every era, they meet, and this meeting brings back all the memories of the lives that have come before. But every meeting serves also as a death sentence, for once they have met, one of them is doomed to die soon after, usually tragically and prematurely. They remember nothing of their past lives until they meet, and once they have there is nothing that can be done to stop their fate.

For anyone obsessed with Reincarnation and/or History, this is it.

A Remover of Obstacles by MistakenMagic

"Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."

Another fic that DOES NOT need an introduction. I have read it thrice and every time the emotions are still the same. Trigger Warnings, but damn this is all worth it.

An Unexpected Meeting by what_am_i_even_doing_tho

This is the chronicling of the modern day shenanigans of Bilbo Baggins, who is an absolute gay disaster, and Thorin Oakenshield, who is unashamedly enamored. Aka, the modern Bagginshield AU that no one ever asked for but they're getting anyway.

green and gilded by nasri

The next time he visits his parents there are flowers left in the grass, pressed back against the gravestone. They are yellow and white daffodils, plain and wilting.

“Who’s been to see you?” He asks, taking a single photo of the flowers with their drooping stems and curled petals and the wet winter grass that surrounds them. His mother would call it kind, his father might say it's curious, and Bilbo takes another petal to tuck into his pocket.

You know those stories that you read once and then they never leave your head? And somehow your whole life begins to revolve around that one story? Yeah, this is it. Spoilers in tag and I would suggest you read before advancing cause many people do not like it, but even if you are not in that group, just give it a read. This story deserves all the reads.

Bran' New Suit by pibroch (littleblackdog)

Andrew's description had been sufficient to recognize him— a riot of honey brown curls, short in stature, a well-favoured face with expressive features— but it hadn't quite been enough to prepare Tom for the sharp, almost painful tug in his gut at the sight of the man. They had never met before, to the best of Tom's recollection, but there was something eerily and inexplicably familiar about him all the same.

One of the first Modern AU I read and dauym...you won't get it until the end but then...it's fun.

Under New Management by frostyjack

Fili's life is pretty good -- he's doing well at university, he gets on well with his uncle and guardian Thorin, and he's never likely to know what it's like to be poor or unwanted. Then Thorin takes in a foster child -- Kili Oakenshield, a long-lost relative whose past is a total mystery. Suddenly, Fili's life gets a whole lot more complicated. But maybe it gets better, too.

Lots of trigger warning for this one, but when the end comes, you'll know it's all been worth it.

One-Sided Conversations by northerntrash

"Thank you for listening," Thorin said, getting to his feet. "I hope to be able to return the favour, one day."

The man on the bed didn't respond, but since he'd been in a coma for longer than Thorin had known him, that wasn't entirely surprising.

(Not Quite) Prince Charming by manic_intent

The problem, Bilbo would later tell Gandalf in aggrieved irritation, was not so much the unannounced visitors, oh no, but the fact that due to the lateness of the hour and sheer merciless fate, it came to be that at the respectable age of forty, Bilbo was being introduced to a real, live king while wearing striped pyjamas and fluffy slippers.

The Making of a Story by northerntrash

When Bilbo finds a case of old family photographs, he becomes determined to find the original owners: what he does not expect is to become quite so involved in their lives, or that those photographs should prove quite so important.

Misunderstandings and other obstacles for love by ylc

This series dammit! It's amazing, and the dynamics you would ask from a Modern AU.

Candle Glow and Mistletoe by euseevius

Bilbo and Thorin have been married for six months now. The thing is, Thorin’s family doesn’t know this. And because pretending to be just friends for the three weeks you’re going to spend at the family cabin is so much easier than telling the truth, that is what they will do.

(Of course Bilbo has his own ideas of how believable it is for a grown man to bring a friend to spend Christmas with his family. That’s why they make a bet out of it.)

For days you need to just laugh at these two idiots.

The Lost Kingdom of Erebor by Twisted_Barbie

AU. The Lost Kingdom of Erebor is shrouded in myth, likened to the heavens and compared to Atlantis. Until an archaeological discovery unearths that which was lost and awakens the Mad King from his cursed eternal rest.

Not a happy ending, and mysterious and you need to give it a read. Just, do it. It will all be worth it.

Of Palaces and Ruins by livelongandgetiton

Slow burn. Bilbo Baggins is a half-baked archaeologist who has put his dreams of adventure on hold to teach secondary school. Thorin is the grandson of a politically powerful figure in the historically rich and deeply isolationist country of Erebor. When he flees conflict and corruption in Erebor to settle in London, he finds his hands full with two young boys. Gandalf meddles, and Bilbo signs on as a personal tutor for the boys in hopes of getting a foot in the door to archaeological work in Erebor. He soon discovers that Thorin is a tough nut to crack. As Bilbo takes care of the boys he and Thorin grow closer, and secrets about not just the brooding stranger, but the mysterious country and politics of Erebor begin to unravel. It turns out that Bilbo isn't leaving adventure behind, after all.

WIP, updating. JUST READ IT!!!

Write Me Down Easy by lucyraebrown

Bilbo Baggins, a simple man with a wish for something more than his life teaching high school English, is obsessed with a famous author by the pen-name Oakenshield. Although he knows the future is dim for his chances of finding out about the man behind his favorite book, it's reassuring to know someone has the same thoughts about the world.

WIP, updating. It's mostly fuff and happiness, so yesss...feed your inner Bagginshield!

Show Me My Silver Lining by BiSquared

Three years after the hostile takeover of his grandfather's record label by one DJ Smaug, lead singer Thorin Oakenshield is ready to give up on his dreams, even if his band isn't ready to give up on him. If Thorin can convince talent scout Bilbo Baggins to sign them, they might just have a fighting chance. Of course, this is the night when Thorin gets stage fright.

The music industry AU no one asked for.

Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples       

Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…

Did I read this in one go? Yes I did. Did I fall in love with Bagginshiled all over again? Yes I did.

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And that's the list folks! I hope you guys have fun reading all of these nice fics! (And all the bagginshield angst/fuff)

[vyxenisl0st]

Enchanted

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Category: series

Word count: 524

Pairing: none at the moment

Summary: When Thorin Oakenshield goes on the quest to reclaim his homeland, Gandalf advises him to visit an old friend, who might be helpful. He finds a woman in the forest he was sent to. A woman he underestimates. She proves herself to be just what Thorin needed for his quest. This is a series about loyalty, love, old alliances and broken friendships.

Warnings: mentions of death, blood

The next day, they had to travel through rain, which was not very pleasant. The ground was covered in mud and puddles, making Prada growl at every step she took. Ketsia could hear one of the dwarfs asking Gandalf if he can stop the rain, she chuckled at the stupid question, remembering the many times she tried to do that herself, while she wad in her forest. Of course she had failed, almost getting struck by lightning. “If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.” Gandalf informed the dwarf. “Are there any other wizards?” The hobbit suddenly asked. “There are six of us. The greatest of our order is Ketsia, the Silver Witch, Saruman the White, then there are other two blue wizards, I’ve quite forgotten their names.” “And who is the fifth?” Bilbo asked again. “Well that would be Radagast the Brown” “Is he a great wizard, or is he more like you?” The halfling raised a brow. The Silver Witch failed to contain her laugh hearing the question. “I think he is a very great wizard. In his own way” The two of them continued talking, but Ketsia wasn’t paying attention anymore. She was praying the rain would stop before her wolf would decide to kill everyone in the company. It was no secret she hated rain.

They decided to camp on an open field. The remains of something that looked like a stable could be seen there. “A farmer and his family used to live here.” Ketsia stated, looking around. “ I think it would be wiser to move on” Gandalf added. “We could make for the hidden alley” he added. “I told you already. I will not go near that place” Thorin scolded. “Why not? The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice” the girl suggested. “I do not need their advice.” The king declared. Ketsia grew inpatient and pissed. “We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us.” The dwarf turned to look at her. “Help? When the dragon attacked Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs attacked Moria, elves looked at us and did nothing. You’re asking me to seek help from the very people who betrayed my grandfather, betrayed my father” Thorin continued. Ketsia rolled her eyes. “You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past.” Gandalf shook his head. “I did not know it was yours to keep.” The dwarf spouted. Ketsia let out a sigh. She was so tired of this. Gandalf turned his back on the two of them and left. “Where are you going?” Ketsia asked. “To seek the company of the only one around here who’s got any sense!” He respond. “And who exactly is that?” The girl followed him. He stopped a moment to look at her. “Myself!” He shouted, making sure everyone heard him. Ketsia felt offended. She scoffed and ran after him, not before giving Thorin a dirty look. “This is your fault, you little…” she pointed at him, and left.

[cassiabaggins]

Cassia Baggins (oc)

Name: Cassia Baggins

Age/DOB: August 13th, 2909 TA (Shire Reckoning) (32 at the time of the BOTFA)

Gender/pronouns: Female, she/her

Species: Hobbit

Timeline: The Hobbit, LOTR

Physical Description: Cassia takes after her mother in looks. She is short and plump like all hobbits, with dark brown, curly hair, dark blue eyes, and a snub nose. She has an hourglass body shape and full lips, and lots and lots of freckles all over her body, but mostly on her face and shoulders... basically any part of her skin that sees the sun! Her faceclaim is Anna Popplewell, but I imagine Cassia with a bit of a rounder face! Cassia also has pointed ears and large, furry feet like all hobbits.

Personality Description: Cassia is hotheaded and adventurous, just a chaotic little gremlin. She is stubborn, mischievous, and determined, but also friendly and outgoing. She loves to try new things and ever since she was a young child, longed to see more of the world due to all the adventures her mother told her about! She has a penchant for trouble and always tends to get in ridiculous situations. She’s also a romantic at heart, and somewhat immature/naive and this can lead to her being taken advantage of. Frankly, Cassia is extremely empathetic. Maybe too much. She feels everything very strongly, and that tends to make her a bit of a crybaby at times as she will cry at any strong emotion, fear, anger, joy, sadness... But whenever someone needs her help or her comfort, she’s there immediately, not only with kind words and a hug, but with a warm slice of pie or a warm drink and a blanket, because sometimes you need some creature comforts. She gives great hugs and even better backrubs, and is great at giving advice. She loves children and is very motherly and sometimes certain parties (Kili) call her ‘mom’ jokingly. People always know they can come to her for anything and she’ll do everything within her power to help them. She’s their confidante, not just their queen.

Significant Other (if any): Fili 

Family: Mother: Belladonna Took, Father: Bungo Baggins, Brother: Bilbo Baggins, Brother in Law: Kili, Sister in Law: Rhis, Mother in Law: Dis, Uncle in Law: Thorin Oakenshield, Children: Thorin IV, Kirin, Arnin, Belladonna II, Vilrin, Frerin II, Corin, Columbine, Leifrin, Eglantine, Elestren, and Daffodil

Backstory (includes SPOILERS for An Extra Burglar!!!): Cassia is Bilbo’s little sister, Belladonna and Bungo Baggins’ youngest child and only daughter. She was an accident baby, born 18 years after Bilbo and while the Baggins’ had always hoped for another child, she was born well after they expected one to come along! Left to be raised by her brother when her parents died when Cassia was 17 (Bungo) and 25 (Belladonna), she always felt a bit out of place. She was too Tookish for a Baggins and too Baggins-y for a Took, stuck in an awkward in between. Her closest friends were Delphinia Greenholm (something of an older sister to Cassia) and Lobelia Bracegirdle (eventually Sackville-Baggins). Six months before Gandalf volunteered Cassia and Bilbo for Thorin’s adventure, Cassia became involved with Allen Proudfoot. Bilbo was very hopeful she would finally settle down and stop talking about adventures, and she did. For a time. Three months into a very promising relationship, Cassia found out Allen had been seeing her friend Lobelia on the side and this discovery resulted in Cassia dumping Allen very publicly, having a huge fight with Lobelia, and throwing herself back into the troublemaking ways of her childhood as a rebellion. When Gandalf arrives, Cassia is more than happy to become a burglar for the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. She immediately gets along with Fili and Kili, though her relationship with Thorin is rather strained at the beginning due to her anger over his treatment of Bilbo. Over the adventure, she grows close to Fili. Very close. She ends up falling in love with him, but is unsure if he reciprocates, and, wary of love due to her past experiences, contents herself with the idea that they are simply not meant to be. However, Fili confesses to her near the end of the Quest and they start courting, meaning to marry the next year, but the Battle of the Five Armies and Thorin’s resulting death throws a wrench into their plans, as Fili is crowned King of Erebor. Cassia returns to the Shire with her brother for a time, but some months later, she goes back to Erebor, marries the love of her life, and has 12 children with him. Read more about her in this fanfic I am writing!

Gallery: one  two  three  four  five  six  seven  eight    and more!

[middleearthpixie]

Someone to Watch Over Me ~ Chapter Two

A/N: I'm reblogging this fic because I've done some rewrites etc. and think it's a stronger story for it. I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: After venturing back into the rain to retrieve Seren, Thorin repays his debt by giving her a warm, dry place to sleep, only to second guess the wisdom of his decision when he learns the truth about her. Not only is he a she, but but she also reminds him of how they first met and she is determined to shadow him all the way to Bree, unless he has anything to say about it, which of course, he does.

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield/Seren (female OC, formerly of Dale)

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,355

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @ocfairygodmother @exhausted-humxn-being @shalinizhara @rachel1959 @laurfilijames

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

This fic can also be found on AO3 (middleearthpixie)

Thorin couldn’t sleep. The rain pattering against the windowpanes made far too much noise, rendering sleep nearly impossible.

At least, that was what he told himself as he threw back the quilts and rose to pad to said window. He couldn’t see much beyond those raindrops. It still teemed outside, as it had done every night for the last four nights.

And he’d tossed a boy out into it, for no reason other than he simply didn’t wish to be bothered by him. And as he stared into the darkness, shame filled him. The boy had saved his neck, although he thought it odd the lad had been tracking him, for lack of a better word, for the last several weeks as he made his way toward the village of Bree. He’d received word his father, Thráin had been seen in or near Bree not too long ago, and so without hesitation, that was where he set his path for. The hope glimmering in his chest was small, but it was hope and therefore he’d cling to it for as long as he could.

Of course, that didn’t his callous treatment of the boy. So, with a sigh of resignation, he drew on his boots, slipped on his cloak, tucked his room key into a pocket and made his way out into the downpour.

He peered through rain as he crossed the narrow road, slipping this way and that in the mud, only to find no sign of Seren. Rain soaked into his hair, beaded up and ran off his cloak, his nose, as he searched up one side of the street, and then down the other.

As he neared the pub once more, he stopped. There, huddled against the building, was Seren, arms wrapped about himself, shivering as the temperature dropped further. Thorin swore softly as he bent and with a grunt, lifted the boy.

He was far lighter than Thorin expected, and he remembered the lad confessing he’d eaten nothing but bread for the last few days. Last few days? He’d be surprised if the boy had eaten much of anything for the last six months. He was skin and bone and not much else.

Seren stirred as Thorn lifted him, a fist narrowly missing Thorin’s cheek as he jerked his head back and said, “Easy, lad. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The boy’s eyes opened slowly. “What?”

“One night,” Thorin growled. “And come the morning, you and I go our separate ways.”

Seren nodded, his eyes closing once more. “I thank you.”

Thorin once more felt the hot sting of shame. Seren did, actually, save his neck and in return, received ill treatment and impatience. Thorin let him rot out in the rain for hours before his guilt got the best of him, and when he picked Seren up, the boy didn’t hesitate to thank him.

He vowed not to dwell on it as he carried Seren back above and set him in the chair closest to the fire. “You should undress and let your clothes dry, lad.”

“I’ll be fine,” Seren mumbled, curling into a ball in the chair. “I only wish to sleep.”

“At least take off the wet cloak.” Thorin bent over and unfastened the green and silver frogs holding it closed. He paused, the frogs in his palm as he straightened up. The green was jade, set in gold. He knew the design, for it was one this own people created. “Where did you get this?”

Seren’s eyes opened once more. “I beg your pardon?”

“This,” he held out the clasp, “how did you come into possession of this?”

Seren sat up in the chair, shifting this way and that to ease his cloak out from beneath him. “I’ve had it since I was a child. My mother gave it to me when I turned twelve summers. Why?”

“This is dwarven made.”

Seren nodded. “I know. We lived just beyond Erebor, in Dale.”

Thorin’s fingers closed about the jade and gold frogs. “Dale was destroyed, well before you were born, lad. So, tell me true, where did you get this?”

Seren’s eyes widened at the anger Thorin couldn’t keep from his voice. “I told you. I lived in Dale. I was there when it was destroyed. I’m one of only a handful who survived Smaug’s fireballs.”

Thorin could only stare. The boy didn’t look old enough to have lived through those terrible, dark days. His skin was too smooth, too unlined, he didn’t look old enough to shave, even. “You remember Smaug?”

“I just said I did, didn’t I?” Seren rubbed one eye, then lowered his hand. “I saw you. You implored Thranduíl for help, only to have him turn away.”

“Why were—“ He sank onto the edge of the bed, gazing down at the harmless frog in his palm—“you couldn’t have been more than a baby.”

“I was fourteen summers,” Seren replied, the chair creaking as he rose and moved to stand before him, reaching down to pluck the frog from his palm. “You don’t remember me at all, do you?”

He looked up, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen you before, lad.”

“But you have.” He smiled, looking up from the frog. “It was only days before Smaug came. You were out on the plains between Erebor and Dale, fighting with a man named Alfryd. He warned you—“

“Away from his sister,” Thorin finished softly. “That was you?”

He remembered it—foggily at first, but as Seren nodded, the memory cleared, like glass wiped clean of frost. He brought a hand to his jaw, as if the man had just hit him moments earlier. “He stabbed me and then swung and knocked me—”

He looked up at the boy standing before him and shook his head. “No. It was a girl who was there. A daughter of Man.”

“She tried to help you, and you shoved her away.” Seren nodded slowly. “You have a scar from it, don’t you? Probably right about here.”

As he said here, he leaned over and gently pressed two fingers just below his ribs. Thorin stiffened, then pulled back. “How did you know?”

“I told you,” a lazy shrug accompanied Seren’s words, “I was there. I laid open Alfryd’s cheek and threatened to run him through if he didn’t leave you be.”

With that, Seren straightened and reached behind him. A moment later, a long, pale braid snaked over his shoulder. “I am that girl, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“You could be an elf lad.”

Seren shook his head and turned slightly to the side. His ears were not arched, but rounded like those of men. His stomach twisted. He remembered that girl, remembered how she tried to help hi, to see how wounded he was, and he shoved her away for her efforts. “It was you?”

“It was me.”

“How is that possible? How did you survive? You were but a child.”

“I was, but I adapt easily.” Seren turned the frog over in his—make that, her, palm, her voice growing wistful. “This is all I have of Dale, of my childhood. And it wasn’t the happiest of childhoods, but it was mine.”

“What happened to your family?”

She didn’t look up from the clasp in her hand. “I waited nearly a week for the fires to go out, and when they finally did, I saw no one. They all either ran or perished. My mother was all the family I had, and she was in the town square, in her shop, and all the remained of that shop was a pile of ash.”

Her confession left him at a loss for words for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then, he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” now she looked over at him, “but you didn’t bring the dragon to us.”

“Still.” He rose to whisk off his own cloak and hung it once more on its hook. “You are welcome to pass the night here. It’s dry. It’s warm. And I do owe you a debt of gratitude that is long overdue.”

“Thank you again.” She tucked the clasp into the folds of her cloak, lying draped across the table. “Do you mind if I take off my boots? I think I’ve a bit of a blister on my left foot.”

“Not at all.” Thorin glanced over at the bed. It wasn’t exactly proper, letting this girl share his room, but at the same time, he couldn’t very well toss her out. Especially not after what she’d just told him.

Seren tugged off both boots and winced as she peeled off her hose. Even from across the room, he saw how red and angry looking the back of her left foot was, and she was right, there was a nasty-looking blister rising as well.

She rose, moving to lay her hose out by the fire, but not too close, so they didn’t go up in flames. Waddling back to the chair, she said, “Have you a pin?”

“Why would I have a pin? And whatever for?”

She sighed, and flipped back the edge of her cloak for the frog. “To pop this bloody blister.”

He bit back a wince at the very thought. “You should probably leave it be. It’ll heal on its own.”

“It will, but it makes walking difficult and we’ve still got a bit of ground to cover between here and Bree.”

He stared as she waddled back to the fire, held the clasp’s pointed end over the flame, and then went to work opening the blister on her foot. He gritted his teeth to keep from reacting at the unsettling popping noise and swallowed hard. Normally he wasn’t so squeamish, but she poked through her own skin as if it was nothing, and on her foot no less.

But then, what she said sank in and he straightened. “Wait, what?”

“I said we’ve plenty of walking awaiting us come morning. Bree is still a ways off.”

“We have plenty of—there is no we. Come the morning, you go your way and I’ll go mine.”

She dabbed at the oozing blister with the cuff of her tunic. “Oh, no. That won’t do at all. Someone seems to be going out of their way to end you, Mr. Oakenshield. Those men were following you all the way from Dunning and—“

“How do you know who is following me?” He reached out to grab her wrist to halt her dabbing. “Have you been following me?”

“I have, yes.” She said it as if confirming the weather for the next day. “Once I found you again, that is. I had no way to find you at first and I was but a child then. But, when the time came, and I finally did find you, yes. I stared following you.”

“Do you honestly think I need a girl watching over me?” He couldn’t hold back his snort of derision at the very thought. “Because if that’s what you believe, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Sorely mistaken?” She didn’t bother to hold back her laughter, crossing her left leg over her right. “Correct me if I am wrong, but didn’t I just save your neck not four hours earlier?”

“That is neither here nor there.”

“Of course not. Because then you would have to admit you were wrong.”

He turned away to grab the top of the quilt and tugged it down. “Take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I’m fine on the floor. I’ve been sleeping on the ground for the better part of my life.”

“Miss Gilwynn—”

“Seren,” she corrected. “I’d rather no one know I’m a girl if at all possible.”

“I wish I didn’t know,” he muttered, stepping away from the bed. “Get up there and do not argue with me, whelp.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What did you call me?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m not a child and you will not ever call me that again.”

Her sudden fury took him aback. “A bit of an overreaction, that. Don’t you think?”

“Ask me if I care.” She tucked the clasp back into the neck of her cloak. “I will not take your bed and I do not answer to you.”

“Fine,” he snapped, bending to unwrap and unlace his left boot to tug it from his foot. “Suit yourself and sleep on the floor. You’ll get no argument from me.”

“Good.”

“Good.” He tended to his right boot, then shrugged off his heavy vest and tunic. He reached for the fastenings on his trousers out of habit, then paused. He certainly couldn’t, in good conscience, remove his trousers with a young woman in the same room. It was bad enough she was there to begin with, he certainly wasn’t about to a single thing that could be misconstrued. And that mean sleeping in his trousers. A small price to pay.

With that in mind, he took hold of the extra pillow and the quilt itself and turned with them. “At least try to be comfortable.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide as if his actions surprised her. For a moment, thought she’d fight him on it, but instead, she took both and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He went back to the bed and climbed up into it. Then, he rolled toward her. “Let me know when you—“

He stopped dead as her trousers hit the floor and she stepped out of them as if without a care in the world. He stared, to his own horror, but couldn’t help it. Her tunic, thankfully, fell almost to her knees, but offered up just enough pale thigh that the room suddenly felt far warmer.

“I beg your pardon, Seren,” he managed to finally say, “but what are you doing?”

“These?” She held up the trousers. “They’re wet, so I’m going to let them dry. Is there a problem?”

He couldn’t very well admit that there was and it was because he’d seen a portion of her thighs in the glow of firelight. She’d cut his throat without blinking. Shaking his head, he said, “Not at all, no. Let me know when you’re ready for the light to be extinguished.”

“Now is fine.”

“Very well.” He blew out the flame and was never so thankful for darkness to settle upon him. He sank into the pillow and heard her move about, most likely laying out the quilt to lay upon. He cracked an eye, and saw that she’d wrapped herself in the quilt, cocoon-like, and sighed with relief. Good. Now, he’d be able to get some sleep.

***

Seren woke with a start and for a moment, didn’t recognize her surroundings. She lay there, wrapped in a warm, if faded quilt, her head resting on a somewhat flat pillow, and stared up at rough wooden beams as the previous night’s events slowly returned.

That, and she heard the snores.

Lifting her head, she peered toward the bed and the sleeping form of Thorin Oakenshield. She was rather surprised to see him asleep, as she half expected him to have risen with the sun and snuck out of the room whilst she slept on.

She carefully unwound the quilt and got to her feet to cross to where she’d left her hose and trousers, all of which were dry. Thank goodness. She hadn’t been entirely comfortable stripping off her trousers in front of him, but the thought of sleeping in wet clothes troubled her more. Not that it mattered. He certainly didn’t seem to notice.

After tugging them on, she folded the quilt to lay across the foot of the bed, and she couldn’t help but glance down at Thorin. He lay on his back, one arm bent and above his head, the other stretched out at his side. His dark hair streamed across the pillows, and she saw the single braid woven along the left side of his head, just before his ear. A small rune of some sorts had been woven into the plait, but she couldn’t read it from where she stood and wasn’t about to try to get closer.

He snorted and stretched in his sleep. As he did, he snagged the linens and tugged them down to his hips and her mouth went dry at the unexpected sight of his broad, bared chest. She hadn’t seen many bare male chests, but of those she had seen, his was by far the most impressive—chiseled muscle from his hips to his shoulders, with dark hair spread almost as far up and down.

She swallowed hard and spun away before he woke and caught her admiring him.

Admiring him?

She groaned softly, clapping a hand to her forehead as she moved to the windows. “Not the time nor the place, ninny.”

The rain had thankfully stopped, although the skies were still iron gray and threatening. Puddles dotted the road for as far as she could see, and it looked muddier than ever. She didn’t relish the thought of slipping and sliding her way to Bree, especially with her foot as sore as it was, but at the same time, at least it no longer rained.

“Is something interesting happening below?”

She jumped at the unexpected sound of Thorin’s voice, and peered over her shoulder to see him sitting up and rubbing one eye. “No,” she told him. “Unless the lack of rain is something of interest.”

“It is, to be honest.” He threw back the linens and the bed squeaked softly as he rose from it. Absently scratching his chest, he padded over to peer out the window with her. “The road is a mess.”

“Be glad we aren’t using a coach. I doubt any would get far.”

He arched one brow as he turned his gaze to her. “We? There is no we, Seren. As I said last eve, you go your way and I will go mine.”

“But your way is my way.”

“No,” he shook his head, “it isn’t. You are not coming with me.”

“But—“

“No. No buts.” He stepped away from the window, lifting his tunic from the back of the chair where he’d left it the night before, and drew it over his head. “I appreciate your assistance, but will require it no longer.”

“You didn’t think you’d require it last evening, either, and yet—”

“I would have been fine on my own.”

She stared hard at him and then shrugged. “Have it your way. But, just so you know, I have business awaiting me in Bree as well, so I’ll be behind you the entire way.”

He sighed. “Suit yourself. But you are not with me.”

“Not until you need my held again, anyway.”

The words popped out on their own, but judging by the way his jaw suddenly tightened and his eyes darkened, he saw no humor in her words. “I beg your pardon?” he asked, his voice tight.

Still, she wasn’t about to let him know his sudden chance in demeanor troubled her. Instead, she shrugged. “You might. All sorts of thugs and ruffians travel between here and Bree and no offense, but you stand out among Men, you know.”

He glared at her. “You are no taller than me.”

“No one is going to mistake me for a dwarf, though. A boy, perhaps, but certainly not a dwarf.” She sank into the chair and brought her foot up to examine. Most of the redness was gone now, although it was still tender. Even so, she tugged on her hose and then her boots, and picked her scabbard up from the table to fasten about her hips. Her quiver and bow, and knives, were next and then she said, “So, what time are we leaving?”

“I’m leaving in the next few minutes. I don’t care when you do.” He finished dressing and loading his weapons and then shoved by her to slam out of the room.

“Stubborn goat,” she muttered, rolling her eyes as she hurried after him before he got too far ahead of her and she lost him in the woods.

[maaaddiexo]

The Within Series | Legolas Greenleaf

Book 1: The Devil Within - 1.6

Mainlist | Serieslist

Nyx of Tyndall does not know love or kindness. Cursed at a young age by a jealous witch, Nyx has lived a life of solitude and death.

Until Gandalf the Grey requests her presence and uncontrollable skill in assisting a young Hobbit across Middle-Earth with nine others to destroy a ring so powerful all fall victim to its evil.

Not only must Nyx face Orcs, demons, and creatures she’s never seen before, but also the devil inside. Controlling the devil is the key to finding freedom in a spell that can’t be broken. But it will not be so easy for Nyx when every obstacle she faces pushes her to an edge she cannot return from.

Chapter Six

Through the woods they ran. The sun had barely begun to rise when they heard the screeches of the Nazgûl once more.

“Hurry!” Strider shouted from the front of the line, Frodo thrown over his shoulder. His skin had paled and small groans came through his lips every time he was jostled around.

“We’re six days from Rivendell,” Sam replied. “He’ll never make it!”

“Have faith,” Nyx said, though she feared Sam was right. “If he can withstand the Ring he may be able to stay off the poison in his veins long enough.”

They moved as fast as they could until the next sunset, finding refuge in thick foliage, surrounded by three trolls that had once been turned to stone. Nyx touched one gently. “Bilbo turned these to stone sixty years ago. Gandalf told me about it when I was younger.”

“How did he turn them to stone?” Merry asked as he wrapped an unconscious Frodo in an extra blanket. The poor Hobbit had begun to shiver.

“Trolls cannot stand sunlight. They will turn to stone if any sunlight touches their skin. Bilbo saved the entire company from being eaten that night. It was the first time he proved himself helpful to Thorin Oakenshield.”

“He’s waking up!” Sam shouted. “Look, Frodo. It’s Mister Bilbo’s trolls!”

Frodo could only moan and groan, his eyes enlarged and his skin a pale blue. All of the veins in his chest were visible. Sam touched his cheek.

“Mister Frodo? He’s going cold!”

“Is he going to die?” Pippin asked worriedly.

Strider looked sadly at the Hobbits. “He is passing into the Shadow World. He’ll soon become a wraith like them.”

Frodo gasped painfully again, and the Ringwraiths screeched in response. The noise came from all around them.

“They’re close!” Merry gasped.

“Sam? Do you know the athelas plant?”

“Athelas?”

“Kingsfoil.”

“Kingsfoil? Ah, it’s a weed.”

“It may help to slow the poison,” Strider said. Sam nodded and moved to leave but Nyx stopped him.

“I will go. I know what the plant looks like and where to find it. Besides, I am still uneasy from last night. I believe some time away from people may help calm me down.”

Strider hesitated and then nodded. “Alright. Don’t stray too far. There is another plant, echinacea. I will search for that.”

Nyx nodded and the two left the Hobbits alone and moved into the woods, searching for their respected plants. Nyx had just found hers when she heard a new voice. Not a wraith, but a woman.

“What’s this? A Ranger caught off his guard?”

Nyx grabbed her scythe. “Drop your weapon.”

“It’s alright, Nyx,” Strider said. “She is an old friend. Only having fun.”

The woman stood up straight and sheathed her sword, revealing porcelain skin and pointed ears. An Elf. “My name is Arwen. I bring no harm, but it is my job to patrol the borders. When we heard of Ringwraiths, I was sent out further to investigate.”

“Our friend, Frodo, he was stabbed with a Morgul blade,” Nyx said. “Can you help him?”

“Not here.”

“He’s this way,” Strider said. They returned to camp, Arwen with her white horse. Frodo’s head rolled to the side when they approached, but Nyx was unsure if he was truly seeing them.

“Frodo,” Arwen whispered. Frodo’s lips moved but nothing came out. Arwen said something in Elvish Nyx could barely hear. I have come to help you. Hear my voice. Come back to the light.

The Hobbit’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as some colour returned to his face.

“Who is she?” Merry whispered as Arwen knelt beside him.

“She’s an elf,” Sam said in awe. He had never seen an Elf before.

“He is fading,” Arwen whispered.

Nyx knelt on the other side of Frodo, ripping up the plant she’d gone out to find. Arwen pulled back Frodo’s shirt to examine the wound, revealing purplish and black veins stemming from the wound. After chewing on the plant, Nyx placed the plant over the wound, cooing at Frodo as he gasped in pain.

“He is not going to last. We must get him to my father.”

The three stood up and Strider picked up Frodo, moving to place him on Arwen’s horse.

“There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know.”

“They’ll be back,” Nyx said. A sense of dread filled her heart.

“Let me take him,” Arwen said.

“Arwen,” Strider sighed. Something in his eyes told Nyx that Arwen was more than just a friend to him.

“I do not fear them.”

Strider conceded, moving to let her mount her horse. “You must ride hard. Don’t look back.”

“Wait!” Nyx moved past Strider, reaching into Frodo’s pocket for the Ring. It immediately felt heavy in her hand, calling out for the devil within.

“Nyx!” Strider said harshly. “What are you doing?”

Nyx ignored him, stringing it onto the plain chain hidden underneath her dress. “Giving them a better chance.” Nyx moved to Strider’s horse, mounting it with ease.

“But they saw his face at the watchtower!” Merry shouted.

“Exactly. If the Ring is separated from the one who once had it, it will buy Arwen some extra time.”

“Nyx,” Strider warned. She looked down at him.

“I was telling you the truth the other night. I don’t want the Ring. But Gandalf believed that Frodo is destined to carry the One Ring. And if he is, he needs to be alive to do it.”

“Does it not call to you?” Strider asked softly.

“It does,” Nyx admitted. Already she could feel her resolve weakening against the curse. “But the evil inside me wants the Ring for itself. It does not want to give it away.” She tightened her grip on the reins. “I will see you all in Rivendell. With the Ring.”

“We need to hurry,” Arwen said. Nyx nodded and the two took off together. They rode through the night just like Strider had said – hard and fast. They did not stop at daybreak and they did not stop for food. At one point, when they had to cross a river, they let the horses drink momentarily and eat some grass by the shore, but then they were off again.

“How is he doing?” Nyx yelled as they rode through a meadow.

“The athelas isn’t working anymore!” Arwen replied. They both spurred their horses to go faster. The meadow ended just as suddenly as the forest began and the Ring around Nyx’s neck felt heavy with evil. Something churned inside her.

“They’re here!” she shouted to Arwen before pulling her horse away from the Elf and Hobbit. The Ring burned under her dress, begging her to take control of it. Give it to the Nazgûl. And the evil inside of her begged her to put it on and use it for herself. Nyx screamed aloud, forcing herself to stay true to her journey and dodged the trees. Hooves sounded loudly behind her and Nyx knew the Nazgûl were upon her. Through the trees to her left, she saw Arwen with a Ringwraith on either side of her. Normally, Arwen would have been able to fight them off. But Frodo was fading and she had to hold onto him to keep him on the horse.

“I cannot outrun them!”

Nyx reached for the necklace, pulling it over her head and dangling it in front of her. She didn’t have to say a word before the two Ringwraiths turned to her and left Arwen alone. “Go, Arwen!”

Nyx weaved through the trees as Arwen galloped straight ahead. They were almost at the border of Rivendell; Nyx could feel the magic in the air. The trees thickened and the air became colder as Nyx neared the riverbank. She could barely hear the trinkling of water over her laboured breath and heavy heart. The trees broke on the edge of the riverbank, and across the way she could see Arwen. She joined her side and together they watched to see if the Nazgûl would cross.

They screeched at the touch of the water.

“Give it up,” one growled.

Nyx held up the necklace while Arwen unsheathed her sword. “If you want it. If you want him, come and claim him.”

The Ringwraiths waded into the water on their horses and Nyx moved back. Arwen looked around them, muttering elvish under her breath. Nyx chanced a glance at Frodo. He was wheezing now, and green liquid was dripping from his mouth.

Something rumbled in the distance and all parties looked upstream as a tsunami of water came rushing at them. Wordlessly, Nyx moved to the shore and watched as something reached out from the rushing water.

“Horses?” she wondered. They trampled the Ringwraiths without hesitation, washing them and their horses downstream. Nyx smiled in delight, turning back to Arwen and Frodo only to see the two of them on the riverbank.

“No, Frodo!” Arwen cried. “Don’t give in.”

Frodo wheezed softly and Nyx dropped to her knees, pushing his sweaty curls out of his face. “Frodo…”

Arwen pulled the Hobbit into her, tears falling freely as she cradled the boy. “What grace has given me – let it pass to him. Let him be spared. Save him.”

Frodo gasped for air, but his eyes were still enlarged and the whites of his tinted red. Nyx looked at Arwen. “What did you do?”

“I gave him a little more time. Come on.”

Nyx mounted Strider’s horse and they were off once more. From the dirt came a stone pathway and stone arches overhead. Elves in armour watched as they raced past them but did not try to stop them. An Elven horn was blown somewhere behind them.

Arwen stopped in a round stone courtyard, and they dropped to the ground as a man with Arwen’s hair and bright blue eyes approached them.

“Arwen.”

“He’s been struck with a morgul blade. He needs help,” Arwen said. The man nodded and touched her back. Arwen hurried down the corridor on the right. Nyx moved to follow her but an arm prevented her from doing so.

“It has been a long time, Nyx of Tyndall.”

Nyx dropped into a quick curtsey. “Lord Elrond.”

“You carry more evil with you during this visit. What has happened?”

Nyx touched her sternum where the Ring rested. “Not here. And tell your men to expect more company. A Man and three Hobbits.”

Elrond nodded and led Nyx to the Council Room. “Tell me everything that has happened.”

Nervously, Nyx pulled the chain over her head and placed the ring on the table. It felt too heavy in her hands for just a ring.

“That cannot be,” Elrond gasped. The two stared down at, dread in their stomachs. “The Ring of Power has been found.”

Part 1.7 ➺

[bluebellhairpin]

The Girl Who Knew The End {6}

Thorin Oakenshield X Fem!Reader

The Reckoning

Chapter Five // Faster and Faster

Chapter Six // (You’re Here!)

Chapter Seven // From Enemies, to Friends, to Lovers

A/N: People seem to be liking this series more then I first expected, so here we are I guess. - Nemo

Summary: The orcs have come, Azog leading them, and you decide now is a good of a time as any to try and save the Line of Durin. 

Series Masterlist

Masterlist  

You ran, Gandalf sensing the danger soon after you did, and the company after him. Setting off further down the hillside, you could hear the wargs coming up behind you, snarling and growling like an omen of impending death.

“To the trees!” You yelled, looking back at those left behind you, which consisted of Thorin and Bilbo. At least Fili and Kili were doing a good job at sticking to the goddamn script.

You stayed on the ground, waiting until everyone was in the trees before climbing up yourself. A warg bit at your ankle, and would’ve left a nasty bite mark if Thorin hadn’t reached down to grab hold of your arm to haul you up onto his branch.

“You saw this coming, didn’t you?” he asked softly, the betrayal and anger revealing the emotions behind his words. But you felt he wasn’t actually angery at you.

“I see everything. It’s my curse.” You mumbled as a reply before climbing up a branch, giving him the space you were sure he’d need.

You started searching the trees for Gandalf, knowing he’d be furthest away, and let out a small sigh, seeing he’d just sent the moth flying. Help would be here soon.

“Azog?” Thorin says, turning your direction back towards the mountains you came from, the white orc approaching slowly atop his warg. Like most things on this journey, you underestimated how blood-chilling and heart-stopping certain people and situations were,

You really needed to stop doing that.

“Do you smell it? The scent of fear?I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain.” Azog said. You knew those words, you knew he was speaking of Thorin and his father, but then he spoke again in words you didn’t understand and words you wished to never remember.

“Girl, you have seated yourself with the wrong company. For This you will die, slowly, painfully. I will enjoy it very much.” Azog spoke, looking you straight in the eyes, pointing at you with what was left of his chopped-off arm, his tone filled with as much hate as it had when he was addressing Thorin. The company all looked at you, seeming to understand his words. Thorin looked up at you, nothing but fear in his eyes.

Where they scared of you…

Or for you?

Azog started yelling orcish again, and the company scrambled further up the trees, just as the wargs ran towards the trees, snapping branches in their jaws and shaking the trees so hard you almost lost your grip.

And then you’re falling. All of you were.

The trees start tipping, like a set of demonic dominos, and then you’re telling everyone to start moving again, to jump onto the final tree with Gandalf. You were all teetering on what felt like the edge of the world. Well, considering the fall would end your and everyone else’s life, it kind of was.

The wargs started towards your group again, you looked over at Azog to see him staring right back at you. You almost felt sick. If it wasn’t for the fact you knew the others would be okay you might have been sick.

Then it hit you.

If you were here, you stayed here, fought and killed Azog, Thorin and the company wouldn’t run into him again. He wouldn’t lead the Orcs against Erebor. He wouldn't be the death of Thorin. Even if you died with him, Thorin would still have a chance.

As you were lost in your thoughts, Gandalf had started setting pine cones on fire, the dwarves were busying themselves with making the orcs and wargs back off. You started thinking about how to go about Azog. You needed to get to him before Thorin did.

Then the tree started tipping, and you knew you needed to act. And fast.

The tree jerked to a stop, sending Ori falling but not too far. You pull yourself up, making it seem like your just getting into a safer place, but before the others could do more then yell, you stood and drew your sword, walking through the burning orange glow towards the enemy.

Your sword had fought with you before, being with you since the beginning it surely served its purpose well and efficiently, you hoped it would do as well this time too. Maybe it’s give you its name now.

You started off the tree trunk, moving slowly to begin with, then into a jog and then run as you let out a cry.

This would be it, your chance at getting home, your chance at defeating Azog, your chance at letting Thorin and the line of Durin live. You ran, nothing but your sword with you. Eyes drawn on Azog, the orc smiling at you as he roared his warg and changed at you as you came at him.

You knew what Thorin did, and you knew that wouldn’t work, so you did what you knew would.

The white warg swung his paw at you, but you lifted your sword and ran it’s blade along the muscles of its foreleg, tainting the steal a deep red, the warg howling out in pain, but Azog made it keep moving.

You could hear Ori struggling, and the other dwarves trying to help him and Dori or you. You regained your stance again, Azog with his back to the company and you took a moment to look back at them.

Your eyes instantly found Thorin’s. He stayed back, watching, waiting. You knew he wanted to move, to help, but you also knew he stayed back for a reason. You remember telling him that you always do things for a reason, and that if you needed help you’d ask, but to never - under any circumstances - to help without you first asking, to intervene with what you were doing.

That time you spent looking back at Thorin was a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because in that moment you knew, it wasn’t you they feared when Azog was speaking before. If it was, the look in Thorin’s eyes would be different. They all feared for you.

Azog must have wanted you dead too.

A curse because it gave Azog the perfect amount of time to lay a heavy hit on your shoulder with his mace. You twist around, falling to the ground with an unceremonious yell, clutching your new sore spot in hopes that the weapon didn’t cut through your clothes and into your skin. The red stain didn’t reassure you at all.

You suddenly found yourself wishing that you accepted Oin’s medical assistance before. Now you had two throbbing cuts.

You made your way back to your feet in time for Azog’s warg to sink his teeth into your side, but you made sure to never let go of your sword.

You heard the company all yell out your name, and you hoped Bilbo would still be brave for you. You hoped that he’d still come to save you if you couldn’t save yourself.

With gritted teeth you managed to lift your sword, hitting the warg on the underside of its jaw before it could get its teeth into you anymore. The hit from the blade sent the warg roaring again, and you were dropped to the ground. You stood, hissing slightly at the new punctures in your abdomen, but ignored them as you raised your blade up at Azog again.

”You should stop moving, you’re only prolonging your suffering.” Azog snarled at you, speaking again, and you cursed yourself for not learning their language when you could’ve.

He reared his warg, moving to swing at you again with his mace, but you turned away in time to miss it, instead grabbing a knife from your boot to throw it at him. You aimed for the head, but your pain-filled mind meant it’d only reached his shoulder.

The shoulder of his full arm.

“Your head will be mine! I’ll hang it from the highest cliff in Erebor!” Azog yelled out, seeming to curse you, and you almost regretted injuring him due to how angry he’d become.

The next moments all blurred together.

One second you’re standing - sword still in hand, then  one of Azog’s warg riders is next to you and aiming his weapon right at you, and then Thorin.

Wait, Thorin?

You looked up at him, him having come over as soon as Azog started his spiel about how angry he was at you. Azog must’ve said some graphic stuff to get Thorin to move out of what you’d told him to do. He looked angry too, but you were a little confused as to why.

You brushed off all thoughts about why he was here, deciding to have a go at him later, and you started fighting too.

You both were taking hits as you received them, Bilbo soon joining, along with Dwalin, Fili and Kili. You tried your best to take hits for Thorin too, putting yourself in numerously life-threatening situations, but you found yourself not caring.

And you weren’t doing it just to protect him to get you home. You were doing it for another reason too. But you weren’t quite sure why.

You were about to take another hit, but the orc was ripped from your view. You followed where he went to see he was thrown off the cliff, more orcs and wargs following.

The eagles were here. You had a chance to rest.

Just as the orcs threat was gone, the eagles started picking you all up.

Azog came rushing at you and Thorin, hoping to get one last hit in, but Thorin pulled you running straight off the cliff.

What a impulsive oaf.

Both you and he landed on the back of an eagle.

“You filth! Both of you! I’ll have your blood spilt, mark my words earth-shiftier!” Azog yelled, anger could be seen on his face even though you were retreating to a safer place. You finally took the time to relax, exhaustion and pain catching up to you.

“It’s okay (y/n), rest now. I’ll wake you when we land. If was land.” He said, pulling you onto the eagle more, and capturing you in between his hold and the feathery back of the giant bird. You nodded, letting your eyes close, finally feeling safe again, even though you knew it wouldn’t last.

Series Taglist: @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pigeonsbones @captainrainbowpanda @theabandonedchocolate @violentmommabear42  @pixierox101 @jumpingmanatee 

[sindar-elven-maidens]

Chapter One 

Nyvari Oakenshield was an elven dwarf in the realm of Middle Earth, a rare race that didn’t occur very often or at all with that she was cast aside from the elven communities in Middle Earth. Her mother Aerin did her best to make sure Nyvari had a good life, taking her to Lord Elrond in Rivendell where she would be safe. Unfortunately, her mother stayed behind to fight wargs and orcs, until her timely demise sending her own daughter with their horse, It was a memory that Nyvari would never forget only being a baby at the time, many were surprised that Nyvari could remember such a thing from a young age.  Nyvari had known from a very young age where she had come from, her father the king under the mountain Thráin II the son of Thrór he succeeded his father and died a prisoner in Dol Guldur. 

Aerin on the other hand was a very well respected elf until her downfall with Thráin, in conceiving her daughter she was cast away from her home in Mirkwood. Forcing her just after the birth of her daughter Nyvari to make her way across Middle Earth,  ensuring her daughter was protected by Imladris. An Elven town and the house of Elrond described as "The Last Homely House East of the Sea”. Unfortunately with her mother’s demise unable to do anything from that young 0f an age, Nyvari always felt some kind of guilt that she couldn’t have done more. Making her feel such a fool as the years grew on the older she got the worse her feelings became to her situation, many elves in the home of Rivendell would describe Nyvari almost like she was a reminder of an elf from very long ago her name was “Fui”.  

The death goddess dwelling in halls that bore her name and had a roof of bat wings, she was the spouse of Vefantur eerily Nyvari reminded them of Fui. Nyvari had shown great promise from a young age her archery skills surpassed many of Lord Elrond’s elves, but as the years went on the more she had grown her purpose in this life. Became clear to the others around her she would be needed in many adventures, celebrations, and wars. Many had the feeling that once she left Rivendell on the side of good, they knew this elf would bring death and carnage to all who stood in her way, she was a force to be reckoned with.

Lord Elrond’s description of her can vary over the years that he raised Nyvari, but many in Rivendell can describe her as porcelain-skinned with a bloodless skin tone. Dwarven Elves as they describe can take on any genetics out of both races, but Nyvari, in particular, was appearing in her early twenties but was five foot and eight inches tall, which to many was short for an elf but tall for a dwarf. Many could never guess how much she weighed but if anyone could guess it would be around one hundred and thirty pounds, her physical bodily appearance was slim and curvy and could be seen through armor and the clothes she wears, her dark hair matched that of the Durin line dark black-brow, the length of a maiden to her lower back it sat the stature of her hair was beach waves, down or up into a ponytail she never liked to damage her hair, but her eyes were the rarest in all Middle Earth a grey color with flecks of green and amber, but the most notable thing that the elves of Rivendell knew about her, the distinguishing marks she can be known and found with dimples, deep scars that resemble Thranduil’s facial scars, due to the trauma she had endured while she was captured by orcs for six months and has enough scars to last a lifetime. A birthmark in the shape of the lonely mountain on a visible part of her neck.

The one thing anyone can make out of Nyvari is her favorite outfit a black and blue dwarvish outfit that looks like a female version of thorin's blue outfit with a choker with a small piece of Arkenstone dangling from it, no one really knows how she came to have a piece of the Arkenstone, but many across Middle Earth assume that Thráin had given a piece to his unborn daughter, which allowed Aerin to have a necklace made by the elven-smiths of Eregion, making the perfect tight fitting elvish necklace only made and perfected with the best this was Aerin’s only gift that she had left for her daughter, she has never taken off the necklace. 

The first time Nyvari left Rivendell she was captured by orcs, for about six months she was held captive in Dol Guldor by Azog the defiler she could hear the orcs around her talking about the Mines of Moria, Moria had been overrun with legions of orcs led by the vilest of their race Azog the Defiler, the Gundabad orc was swearing to wipe out the line of Durin, starting with the king Thrór beheading him just outside the mines of Moria as he had tossed his head three hundred feet and landed in a rabbit hole; thus the game of golf was invented. Nyvari was terrified of Azog just by his intimidating appearance fearsome-looking, and herculean orc, Azog is also a very large and extremely powerful orc, as tall if not taller than even the most advanced Uruk-hai, and far bulkier, his skin is bone-white, differentiating Azog from other orcs are his piercing blue eyes and smoother skin, with deep, tattoo-like incisions covering his face and torso. A metal claw replacing his severed forearm; the aft end of the prosthetic ends in a spike protruding near his elbow, the fact that Azog can sustain this prosthesis is an example of his immense ambitions to survive.

She lost herself in the trees

Among the ever-changing leaves

She wept beneath the wild sky

Though inside she knew not why

To overcome her hearts wounds

To rise from the ashes

For all she was told and all she saw

Shall soon be gone

The line of Durin shall fall

Though carry on it will

With the moon in her favor

 watching over her aimless journey

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Tamriel Gallilyn resides from a place known as the Grey Havens. A noble Noldor elf from the undying lands as she had returned to Arda after being requested home by her father. While she had returned back to Middle Earth she had gone to travel to the woodland realm upon hearing of the birth of the king's new son as she was to give a blessing to the child; though on her way was taken by the same orcs who were after Nyvari’s bloodline. Taken to Dol Guldor and held captive until her escape thousands of years later. 

Though as she had managed to get out she also managed them to be on her tail as she ran despite being weak. She ran day in and day out to avoid going back as she had soon run into a group of guards near Mirkwood as they had taken her to the king and fought off the remaining scouts who failed to retake her. As Thranduil had seen her he immediately contacted Lord Elrond and sent her to Rivendell heavily guarded along the way as she hadn’t woken the whole journey there which concerned the elven leaders of the three elven kingdoms. 

Her appearance was of a soft ivory complexion as well as her Honey gold eyes which sparkled in the light of the sun and moon. Her hair a shade of Blonde which was quite uncommon for her race of elf as was her eye color. Her height was normal as well as her weight though her archery and sword skills were yet to be determined.

An ember astray

When the last of the crow’s feathers fall

An old forest shall grow quiet

Sorrows grow restless

Mithlond falls still in the greys of time

 in search of golden eyes

Will lead the world out of grey

And into the light of day

into the hands of men.

[thewarriorandtheking]

Another Hard Parting

When I read the first Prompt for the Tale Teller’s 52 Week Writing Challenge, this scene immediately popped into my head. For the Challenge I decided to do something different but I almost like this one better... 

“The story was written in her eyes” 

MasterList

***********************************

As Thorin Oakenshield carefully packed his bag it occurred to him this was the first time he was leaving Kaylea. In all the time they had known each other, it had always been Kaylea Wolf riding away, leaving Thorin behind in Erebor. This time he was the one leaving her on Dorsai, to begin his training with her soldiers. His training would take a few years, since so much of it was new to him, but once he was finished they would split their time between Dorsai and Erebor. The life together that they had talked about for so long was finally about to become a reality. He closed his bag, taking a moment to consider if there was anything else he should bring. He felt Kaylea come up behind him, she put her arms around him, kissing his neck.

“All packed?” She rested her chin on his shoulder, holding him tight.

“Mmmm…just thinking this is the first time I am leaving you behind,” Thorin replied, putting his hands over hers. He leaned back against her, looking over his shoulder. “Are you going to miss me?”

“I always do,” Kaylea said softly. Thorin heard something in her voice, a kind of hesitation and turned to face her.

“What is it, my love?”

Kaylea did not answer right away, she looked down at his hands on hers, shaking her head. Thorin studied her closely, fixing her in his mind’s eye as he always did when they were about to part. Her golden hair, her flawless skin, her eyes blue like the sky on a winter day. Parting with her had always been hard, the years had not made it any easier. He wondered what was troubling her.

Just four weeks ago they had been married again, this time with her family in attendance. After their two ceremonies held in Erebor, the private wedding and Kaylea’s coronation, this time Thorin was the one who had to learn the customs. On Dorsai couples spoke their own vows, he had found it surprisingly moving. As they swore their love for each other before her family he had found himself nearly overcome with emotion, even after nearly a hundred years their devotion had only continued to grow stronger. Kaylea had surprised him by wearing the same dress he had ordered to be made for her coronation, the gold threads sparkling, the gems in her jewelry flashing in the sun as Lord Blackwolf escorted her to the sacred hall among the trees where the ceremony was held. He could tell by the shocked looks that this was a side of herself she rarely showed her family, who had no doubt expected her to show up in her dress uniform. Thorin had been irritated that Blackwolf had insisted on attending, but since he was her father in a way, the Elven lord did have a right to be there.

“What is wrong?” Thorin asked again, tilting her chin up. Looking at her face he could see the answer was written in her eyes. “You think I will not return to you.”

Kaylea nodded. “I never worried about you on Middle Earth, but out here there are so many things that can kill you.” She shook her head, squeezing his hands, wishing with all her heart that she could stay at his side. “I have told you that many die trying to complete the Sardaukar training, I do not know if you appreciate how difficult this is going to be.”

Thorin smiled at her. “So you have told me, many times. And I tell you again that I will graduate at the head of my class.” He slid his arms around her, pulling her against him. “You need to stop doubting me. You will be close to keep an eye on me, after all.”

“You are right, of course. You have overcome every challenge you have ever faced and I’m sure you will be fine. But I am still going to worry about you. I wish you did not have to do this.” Kaylea could make sure Thorin had experienced squad members, and could check on him from afar, but she knew the soldiers of her elite strike force had to accept him as one of their own, and for that to happen he needed to complete his training without her direct assistance. Her brothers had welcomed Thorin into their family, but even they needed to know his capabilities as a warrior before they would completely trust him. Such was the reality of marrying a member of the Dorsai.  

Thorin fingered the mithril bead at the end of her braid. “While it always pains me to be parted from you, my love, I must admit I am looking forward to learning your fighting techniques. Maybe I will finally be able to keep up.”

Now Kaylea smiled. “That has never been a problem.” She ran her hands down his arms. “Promise me you will take care of yourself, my king. Do not take any unnecessary chances.”

“I will come back to you, wife. I swear it.” Thorin kissed her, relishing the taste of her mouth, the feeling of having her in his arms. He pulled back, resting his forehead on hers. “After all these years, after all we have been through, when I am finally so close to never having you leave my side, do you really think there is anything that could keep me from returning to you?”

Kaylea did not answer, just let herself feel his body against her, the sensation of their foreheads pressed together, the smell of the oils in his hair, all the things she wanted to remember about this moment so she could go back to it in her mind while he was gone.

After a long moment Kaylea took a deep breath. “We need to get moving or you will miss your transport.”

Thorin grabbed his bag and they headed down the stairs, Donal Graham was waiting in the circular entry hall of the Tor. “You are going to have to learn to pack faster than that if you are going to make in in the Sardaukar,” he said wryly, holding the door open for them.

Kaylea was looking at Thorin in surprise. “You don’t want me to drive you?”

Thorin paused at the top of the steps. “Would that not be prolonging the inevitable?” It was what Kaylea had always told him when she was getting ready to leave Middle Earth and he had asked to accompany her to her ship. He hated to see her leave and had wanted to spend every minute he could with her. Kaylea had maintained it was better to make a clean break, so they said their goodbyes at the gates of Erebor and it had been Thorin watching her ride away, this time she would be watching him.

Kaylea nodded, appreciating the reference. “Yes, I suppose it would be. Take care, husband. I will see you in six months.”

Thorin could not resist taking her in his arms one more time, one last goodbye kiss, though this time they would be apart for much less than the years Kaylea had spent between visits to Erebor. Time always seemed to stand still when they were in each other’s arms, this time was no different, each wanting to stretch the moment out forever.

“Erebor, we need to bounce!” Donal called from the idling rig at the foot of the stairs. In the time-honored tradition of soldiers, most of the Grahams had taken to calling him where he was from, since his name was simply too long.

Kaylea reluctantly stepped back, Thorin flashed her a quick smile and shouldered his bag.

“Come back with your shield, my king,” Kaylea told him, the traditional farewell of old Dorsai.

“Yes, my queen. I will bring you the heads of my enemies on it,” Thorin replied, as men going off to war had answered their Dorsai wives for generations, He turned and made his way down the stairs and into the waiting ATV without another backward glance. Kaylea watched the vehicle cross the courtyard and disappear through the gatehouse, she hurried to the bridge across the moat where she could watch it disappear down the road to the spaceport. Now she fully understood how hard it had been for Thorin all those years. Every time she had left Erebor it had grown harder, but her mind had also been occupied with her mission, where she had to go next, the dangers that were before her. She had been able to partly put her sadness at their parting aside, but not today. She felt such a deep emptiness, watching Thorin drive away. Today she had nowhere else to be, her mind full of worry for her husband and her heart heavy. Thorin had taken a large part of her with him, and she would not be whole until she was with him again. She stood looking at the place where the road disappeared into the trees below the Tor, a low mist was drifting in from the fjord, weaving between the trees. She wanted to call a vehicle and go after her husband, to keep him by her side, but she knew she could not.

She felt something touch her hand and let her fingers travel through his thick fur as Ajax moved alongside her. He was following her gaze down the road, wondering at her sadness. He looked at her with concerned eyes, sending a picture of Thorin to her mind. It made her smile, Ajax saw her husband so differently than she did, and some of it always came through in his telepathy. The dire wolf had grown up on Dorsai and had never understood her connection to Thorin, he saw him as a grumpy little man who was always telling him to get off the furniture. He wasn’t really sad to see Thorin go, since it meant he would now have Kaylea all to himself.

“I am not going to be good company today,” she told him. “That man is a huge part of me and now he is gone into unknown dangers for many months, you are going to have to let me be depressed.” The look Ajax gave her was so skeptical she just had to laugh. Like he always did, the wolf had found a way to make her feel better. “Alright, I will let you cheer me up, just a little.” Together they turned and went back into the keep.  

*************************************

Read the whole story of these two on AO3 and FanFiction, links are on my homepage

@fizzyxcustard  @soradragon  @sdavid09

[fizzyxcustard]

His Call To The Sea (Thorin Oakenshield)

Day 17 of Lyn’s Writing Event

Event Masterlist

Summary: You are the Captain of your very own pirate ship and one night, whilst out on deck, you hear the haunting song of the Mer People and their tragic story of how they lost their home to the evil sea monster, Smaug. 

Warnings: None. 

Comments: We are now moving into week 3 which is the AU series of prompts. This fic actually came from an idea I had a few weeks ago in regards to Thorin as a merman. 

There had been a major storm on the sea that afternoon, one of the worst you’d seen since you began your command of your ship two years ago. Most of your crew were below deck, asleep in their hammocks. A couple were up in the crow’s nest, keeping a lookout, along with the ship’s parrot, whom you nicknamed The Admiral. No doubt if there was anything out on the sea which was of a risk to you and the crew, The Admiral would see it first. He had especially sharp eyes and hearing for a clever, and rather stubborn, ball of feathers. 

Stars were amass in the sky above you. You imagined God taking a handful of confetti and throwing it into the heavens. The sea had become calm, with only a gentle rock of the ship. It relaxed you and made your eyes begin to close. 

You were jolted awake by a deep hum on the air. It sounded like the voice of a man, distant and haunting. But it was so ethereal and beautiful. Nothing like you had ever heard before. 

Your eyes scanned the ocean, unable to see anything, until gradually a large rock came into view. It was easily ten feet across and rose about six feet out of the water. Mist had been swirling around the rock, but it was now dissipating. 

“Hello?” you called out, noticing the vague outline of a figure sat upon the rock. 

Was no one else on the ship seeing this? Surely the lookouts would have seen what was happening down below, but they were still going about their business, probably waging their collection of bottle caps again. Hopefully after your next quest, you would all be considerably richer and have collections that far, far, far outweighed the value of bottle caps and the odd schilling. 

“Admiral?” you called, but the bird was too busy preening his feathers on the other side of the ship. 

The singing continued and when you looked closer, you could see that it was the figure who was creating that breathtaking sound. You listened to his words as he sang about the great sea monster, Smaug, who had driven the Mer-people of Erebor out of their home deep beneath the waves. This was just a tale; a myth you had read about in books when you were little. In those years gone by, your father had been priming you to become a lady, someone who would be only of value to another man’s family name. That had never been you. You were an adventurer through and through, intent on following your heart wherever it called for you to go. And thus, it had led you to the pirate’s life. 

“Hello?” you asked again, calling out to the darkened waves. 

The figure turned and looked at you. His eyes sparkled in the darkness, the colour of aquamarine; his long, wavy hair had a small circlet of silver resting upon it. As he looked at you, he smiled, his singing stopping. You could not deny that his face was as beautiful as his singing. 

“Good evening,” the figure said. You noticed now that the ship had come to a complete stop and you were no more than a few feet away from the man. However, you noticed that he was not entirely a man. Where his legs should have been was a long, dark blue tail. All over the tail were silver scales which shone in the moonlight. Everything about him took your breath away. 

“You’re one of the Merpeople,” you whispered. “I thought you were but a legend.” 

“Most seem to think so,” he replied. His tail twitched slightly and he held his hand out to you, beckoning you to the sea. It was as if magic had descended upon you and you lost control of your body; you stood up and began to lift your leg over the side of the ship, ready to succumb to his call. “I’ve been waiting for you...” 

His voice was like your polar opposite, magnets charged and pulling towards each other. “Come to me....” 

Suddenly you stopped and shook your head. The strength of your control was too much and the magic which was surrounding you melted. “You’re nothing but a siren,” you hissed. “Calling me to my doom.” 

The merman’s face began to contort to one of anger. “I am nothing of the sort,” he replied. “I am Thorin, the rightful king of the undersea kingdom of Erebor. I seek help to re-gain my home from the clutches of Smaug.” 

“And what can I do? I’m a pirate Captain,” you replied. 

“One of the most famous of all the seas. Your name has ventured far and wide among my people.” 

A sudden jolt hit you and you found yourself waking. The sea was calm, Admiral was still preening and the lookouts were arguing over one being a cheat. There was nothing out upon the sea; the rock had disappeared, along with Thorin. With a shrug of your shoulders, you got up and walked steadily towards your main cabin. Something was niggling you in the back of your mind, something you needed to try and sort into some kind of semblance. 

On your bookcase, you picked up a letter bound book of sea life folklore and began to sift through the pages. A distant memory was poking at you, and you continued flicking slowly, the pages only illuminated by dim candlelight. 

You gasped. There, drawn in ink, was an image of the underwater kingdom of Erebor. Carved in stone with the heads of kings surrounding the doorway. Then you noticed something that made your blood turn to ice. 

The would-be Mer-King, Thorin II, searches endlessly for his Queen, said to be a great name of the seas. He longs for her, singing at night, beckoning her down into the abyss with his melody of Erebor’s history. Legend has it that once she allows his voice to take her, she will transform into her true self, the most beautiful mermaid the world has ever known. But she is a woman of great strength, fighting off his advances and calls. 

[jacobseedz]

Wrong - Thranduil x reader

requested by; @lucacangettathisass (sorry, luv, for making you wait for so long, but as i told you tumblr ruined everything ;_; hope you like it, i tried my best! *insert smiling face emoji*) 

summary; you’re quite younger than Thranduil, many say you only use him for his money, power and throne. 

sindarin in italics -> translated at the bottom

You were a quite young elleth, but mature in every other way. Your family was not royal, known or rich. Many people, elves, dwarves and other creatures only knew you from your work. Like making new robes, sewing, painting or even teaching elflings. 

 Once you were working on a new robe for Lord Elrond, when King Thranduil came into your chambers in Rivendell, saying he needed a new robe. It was the most awkward moment in your life, but definitely worth it as after some months of talking, drinking wine, you from friends became something much more. Of course your love blossomed so you decided to move into Mirkwood, staying within his Kingdom. It was an adventure to say the least. You, the lover of the King, nobody knew you, they give you questioning glances, but made way for their King nonetheless. You haven't stopped working, at times even helping Thranduils people. They all appreciated the extra help, and many grew fond of you. 

 On a special night, your anniversary, you asked to see his whole face.

 "No, Meleth, I do not want you to hate me." he said calmly, but his heart was beating like he just ran a marathon. 

 The only thing he was afraid of after his wife's death is your leave. You'd have nightmares, you'd look at him like he was a disgusting orc. However, you loved him too much, so you whispered sweet nothings into his pointed ear, assuring him you wouldn't ever leave him. It was quite strange to see two tears drop into his knees, but he showed you what the dragon did. 

After he turned your way he gasped, not understanding why you were still there, with him. You just smiled and wrapped your arms tightly around him.

                                                    **************

Today was no other day like before. It was the meeting of the Kings. Thranduil was to arrive in Dale to discuss important stuff. The dwarf King, Thorin Oakenshield, survived the battle, giving Azog a brutal death. He took over the Lonely Mountain, many dwarves came back from far lands to their rightful home.

All three kings came to an agreement, that didn't mean they liked each other, but they did sometimes give each other good advice. Like a King to another King. Simple as that.

Thorin once saw you with Thranduil and instantly fell in love. He envied the Elven King for stealing your heart, though that haven't stopped him from trying to get you. 

"Thranduil, you must be careful, that she elf of yours must not be trusted." thorin warned, lowering his gaze to the other King that stilled.

"And do tell me, why is that?" he asked, walking again.

Thorin let out a quiet growl, not liking what he was about to say next.

"It's in her eyes, your throne, your power, your money. As you told me once, she came from a poor family, what do you expect then?" he breathed out, trying to sound genuine. 

Thranduil's brows furrowed, not knowing if he's lying or telling the truth. But why would he lie? Thranduil knew Thorin longer than you and every advice given to him was true, so maybe he is right... 

"Where is Bard, I don't have all day." he changed the subject, quite uncomfortable. 

The dwarf King knew he struck a spot, the Elf is considering his words. Oh how wonderful, Y/N will finally be his, that's all Thorin wanted. 

When Bard arrived, everything went back to normal. Thranduil traveled back to Mirkwood, where Legolas, his only son awaited him.

"Mae g'ovannen, Adar. I am glad to see you." Legolas smiled. 

Their father - son bond was renewed. Occasionally they trained together, went riding or got rid of the nasty creatures living in the woods. They both were happy, well, Legolas only disliked you, he'd like you to leave them alone. Only his mother was meant to be with Thranduil and no one else. 

So the only thing he could think of was lying about you, one would've thought Thorin agreed with Legolas on this, though they both hadn't planned destroying Thranduils relationship. The Prince bribed his fathers most trusted adviser and member of the council, to make the King banish Y/N from Mirkwood, forever. 

"Ah, Ionneg, how did your training go?" he asked casually, nodding to his people. 

"Very well, but there is one matter I would like to talk over." Legolas said, his cheerful tone changing to a cold one.

The Elven King had enough of talking, but seeing his son's gaze it must've been something serious. He eventually led Legolas to his chambers. 

Taking a deep breath, he started, "... you know, we all worry about you and want what's best. On the other hand we cannot do that with Y/N by your side," that got Thranduils attention, Legolas tried to contain his smirk.

"Landion saw her sitting on your throne, laughing ominously , like a witch that just seduced her victim. Y/N was talking about you, about taking your throne and kingdom. Ada, you can't let her." he pleaded, obviously that made Thranduil believe him.

His golden hair flew in the air, as he turned around. His icy blue eyes, piercing Legolas'. The Elf couldn't possibly think of you doing such thing. He saw the love, adoration in your eyes. Thranduil's hands trembled, his breathing hard. Closing his eyes he breathed out a 'ego', Legolas leaving right after. He was so lost.

Help me Valar...  

                                                ****************

Later that day you came to your shared chambers, finished with today's work you were ready to relax. Walking in the dark room the only light came from the balcony and fire. Although you heard Thranduil you didn't say anything, thinking he was asleep.

"Y/N." said a raspy voice.

Thranduil sat on the love seat, near the fireplace. He held a glass of Dorwinion wine, right from Rivendell. Elves couldn't easily get intoxicated, especially Thranduil, as if he was alcohol-proof.

Taking a step forward, you replied, "Yes, my love?". Putting a hand on his shoulder you felt him tense up. For the first time in your relationship, your touch hadn't soothed him, quite the opposite.

He scoffed, ".. My love, tell me what were you doing in MY throne room?" he emphasized 'my'. 

Confused and tired, that was all you felt.

"Thranduil, I have been at work all day, what are you talking about?" he scoffed yet again, not pushing your hand off of him. He just rejected you and you don't know how to feel about that.

"Stop acting dumb. Legolas told me about your little scene. I'm not that thick as you thought. Get out of here, you witch." he spat, throwing the glass of wine onto the wall.

You shrieked, frightened of his odd behavior. The glass shattered, wine spilled on the perfect Elf-designed floor. Thranduil stood, towering over you. His icy glare did not soften, even watching your tears stained face. It only made more furious. 

"EGO MILBO ORCH!" that struck a nerve.

Your hand made contact with his cheek, the sound echoing in the room. It was quiet for a moment, before he said, "Get out of my Kingdom and never come back, witch." 

With that you left, tears streaming down your face, blurring your vision. Taking nothing you ran as fast as you could, just to be behind those gates, in the fate of the evil creatures guarding the woods.

The trip to Rivendell took you at least four days, fortunately you were a skilled hunter, so with a pained expression you ate a small bunny, fox or bird. On your way out of Mirkwood you haven't crossed roads with those nasty, six legged demons, you doubted you'd survive.

Lord Elrond was your regular customer, only letting you make his robes. Hearing the sad news from you, broke his heart. Not only did he give you food, but a place to live. Oh, how grateful you were, nearly squishing him in the tight embrace.

"My dear child, do not fear, for you love shall win over the dark. It just takes time to realize that." he said softly, rubbing your back as you sobbed.

"Th..thank you, Lord Elrond, for all of this." you rubbed your eyes, giving a weak smile.

Moving away from you, he whispered something you could not hear. All day you snuggled under the covers, trying to forget Thranduil and what he said, although your heart was still beating for him and always will.

A knock woke you up, yawning you stretched. Scrambling to the door, you opened it to face none other than Thorin Oakenshield himself. That was confusing, what was the Dwarf-King doing at your door...

"Good evening, my lady. I hope I do not impose?" he quirked his brow, a small blush on his cheeks though the massive beard made it nearly impossible to see. 

"Your highness, of course not, but what brings you to my chambers?"

He chuckled, embarrassed. "It is a fine evening, how about a walk, if you don't mind?" Thorin avoided your gaze. Sighting you tangled your arms together and wandered off.

Walking along the forest, a small lake found its way into your view. Awing, you let go of Thorin. The lake perfectly reflected the whole moon tonight. It was breathtaking.

 "Y/N, I wanted to tell you something for a while..." Thorin said, playing with his fingers from all the nerves. 

Not turning your attention, he continued, "The first time I saw you, i thought 'what an angel, i want her,' but I've never got the chance to talk with you, as you'd stay by Thranduils side-"

 "First of all, King Thorin," she spat, narrowing her eyes, now looking at him. "I am not some object you can possess, I also have feelings, but unfortunately I do not reciprocate yours. My love for Thranduil is strong and everlasting. You are not the first and last to hear this." you huffed, running back to your chambers, leaving a crushed Thorin.

                                                 ********************

Thranduil paced back and forth, Legolas told him everything after seeing his father heartbroken for some time. He didn't want that for him, it was selfish of him. The adviser that was paid to insult Y/N was no longer wanted in Mirkwood.

The Elven King was red from the anger, however he felt sorry for Legolas, understanding him in a way. And oh how bad he feels for his outburst, for saying the worst thing to you. It broke his heart into million pieces. 

Now, riding on his giant Elk, with five guards  galloping on their mares beside him, they were headed to Rivendell, for their future Queen and Thraduils love. 

You were siting on a branch of the largest tree in Rivendell, though at first it was difficult now you felt more confident. Observing the world from atop, you saw something moving, when it got closer you saw who that was. 

Groaning you still watched, of course Thranduil wants to insult you again, but you doubt he'd make an effort to travel from Mirkwood to Rivendell just for you. That was ridiculous. 

The King disappeared from your view, your heart was hammering, you missed him so much it hurt. Then again he popped up, now nearing the tree you were on. 

Dismounting the giant Elk, he looked up at you, with a frown. 

“Meleth nin, please, come down!” he shouted, worried of you falling. 

When he heard nothing, but still seeing you sitting there, watching his every move with those big, beautiful eyes, he tried again. 

“Y/N, I’m terribly sorry! Gi melin, my stars, my moon, my whole world!” 

“Nin gwerianneg.” you responded, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. You saw him holding his own tears. 

Choosing to climb down you slowly and carefully pick each step. At last, your bare feet touched the wet grass. You felt Thranduils arms around you, holding tightly and never letting go.

“Forgive me, Y/N. I listened others and not my heart, but now that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, travel with you to Valinor. I want you to be my Queen.” he finished, breathing in the scent of your hair. He let himself cry, even in the presence of his guards. 

“I love you too, Thranduil, so so much. Never doubt it.”

He smiled, “I will never.”

You became the Queen of Mirkwood, and a friend to Legolas. He wasn't jealous anymore, more happy for his fathers joy. The people adored you too. 

A year later a new elfling came to the world, that day did not go without a celebration. 

_________

Ionneg - son 

Ego - go

Gi melin - i love you

Nin gwerianneg - you betrayed me

Ego milbo orch - go kiss an orc

Mae g'ovannen, Adar - well met (basically ‘hello’), father

Meleth - love (as in ‘my love, darling’ etc)

Ada - dad, daddy (yikes the daddy word is nasty now)

OMG i hope its okay??

[catbowserauthor]

Hobbit Story: Principles 2

Second part of my Hobbit story Principles:

“Good.” The tallest of the visiting dwarves (though he still would likely only come to Thorin’s chin) with a long winding beard of dark black woven with wooden and ivory beads remarked, “Balin, son of Fundin, if you would.” Though neither Fili or Kili recognized this dwarf, judging by his attitude and overall, well, ‘short but to the point yet polite’ness, it was probably Ironfist.

            As one, the group of six stood and Balin gestured the boys to take their spot by their Uncle’s left. There was significance to it. Only on the right of the King would they be shown as having power. To stand on the left was a sign that as far as these Dwarven Families were concerned, they were sons of Dis, Thorin’s nephews and little more.

 There was a formality about the room but Thorin, Mahal bless him, still took each of his nephews by the shoulders and gently rested his forehead on theirs for a moment. Parting, the two boys stood to Thorin’s left, Fili being closest and Kili nearly on top of his brother’s foot.  

            Balin stepped forward and he had that formality to him that he always carried when performing an official ceremony as he addressed the room. “Sons of Mahal, we are gathered for the betterment of the Dwarven Race. While we have Lords and soldiers and commanders that are full of spirit and fire, it is through our King that we are united. It is through our King that we are one. It is through our King that Mahal guides us. It is for that reason that we are gathered. Thorin II Oakenshield, son of Thrain, is the closest blood heir of Thror, son of Dain I. He lays claim to the throne of the line of Durin through both blood right and earned right. What say you, Lords of the Dwarven Clans?”

            The red haired dwarf, grumpy Firebeard was as predictable as always. He had been looking at all of them with nothing but contempt since they had entered, set his eyes on Thorin directly. “You don’t have the King’s Jewel, do you?”

            Well, no pause here. The patriarch of the Durin Line took a heavy breath and settled himself. He knew this was coming but like Balin had told him, he could only present his case and deal with the outcome. Standing tall, Thorin met his accuser’s eyes with strong sights of his own. “No. I destroyed it.”

            Oh, if the room did not erupt into frenzy, at least until Dwalin slammed his ax onto the stone floor with a “Hush, the lot of you! Listen, don’t just prattle on like a buncha ol’ hens!” His eyes were full of barely contained fire and judging by the way Balin looked at him, that was not exactly the best way to address the Dwarf Lords.

            It was effective though.

            “The very thing you set out to claim and you smashed it?” The gruffness in his voice, if it were possible, rose several levels and he stood to his feet as if the very ground was alive with molten rock beneath him. “That was the prize Jewel of your Grandfather! You have such gall to stand here and claim the throne when you not only failed in your mission but actively sabotaged it?!”

            Fili took a step forward, pausing in his step only when Dwalin and Thorin each lay a hand on his shoulder. His mouth was not silenced though, “Thorin failed at nothing, Lord Firebeard. It was YOU all who demanded the King’s Jewel, despite the fact that it was not always a part of Durin’s Line. Thorin destroyed it because he recognized it for what it was.” He bit his lower lip at that point, not trusting his tongue to not assault this maznaslatdurzu.

            The red bearded dwarf snorted and narrowed his eyes but he was not as dismissive as one would have thought he would have been. “I trust you will enlighten us to your reasoning, Thorin, son of Thrain?”

            “Gladly.” The dark haired dwarf stepped forward. “I started out this quest to reclaim the mountain. It was only through the aid of my company, including a small Hobbit, that was I was able to do so. I nearly lost it because of the lure of the Arkenstone. The tainted gold from a Dragon carries a heavy call to it alone but the call and hum of the Arkenstone drowned out all the singing of the gold. All I could hear was its call.”

            It was a white haired dwarf nursing his ale that asked, “Yet you broke out of it, unless the rumors are untrue?”

            Shaking his head, Thorin replied, “I did. I nearly lost everything most dear to me. But it was my sister-son, my heir, who struck through its spell and I found myself again. I was not going to risk forgetting who I was and what was dear to me again. So, I struck the stone to shards myself.”

            Firebeard scoffed to himself but he did not make a comment. Whether or not it was because he was being respectful or because Dwalin was fingering the hilt of his ax, they were unsure. Perhaps it mattered little.

            The others looked to their neighbors, chattering lightly in Khuzdul until there was a slam of palms to the table.

            It was a blond colored dwarf, beard bundled in tight ringlets and various colored stones that rose. He stepped forward first from the right. Fili slightly recognized him as a dwarf he had seen a few times in his childhood, though always from afar. The Dwarf Lord clasped his shorthanded ax across his chest and bowed to Thorin,

“To pull one’s self from the grip of Gold Sickness, no matter its source, is not a minor effort. Valin, son of Valu, Lord of the Stiffbeard Name, will stand behind Thorin II Oakenshield. His acts speak for themselves and the clan of Stiffbeard will stand firm with him and Erebor, Mahal as my witness.”

Fili’s heart lightened.

Kili failed to hide a smile.

Thorin, while he stayed formal, had gratitude in his dark eyes.

Balin nodded formally, “Your allegiance is noted, Father of Stiffbeard.”

A dwarf lord in the middle of the right handed table stood and Kili immediately knew who he was though he’d never seen him. This had to be the Broadbeam family. Bofur and Bifur had the same dark shade of hair but his stance was all Bombur. Distant relation or not, the blood link was apparent. He was a heavy set dwarf but not too fat. It looked more muscle than anything.

His words told them more than anything else that his heart was just as strong as Bofur’s family line. “I, Rangvald Broadbeam, the eldest of the lineage of the Broadbeams, from our first Father Raggard Broadbeam, have had the pleasure of seeing Thorin II Oakenshield work amongst his people in the Blue Mountains. I have seen his heart, his passion. My spirit sang to hear of his survival and of his devotion to my own distant relations, Bofur, Bifur and Bombur. To hear this only reinforces my stance. I stand by Thorin II Oakenshield’s claim and the family of Broadbeam will stand by his side in all future endeavors, Mahal as my witness.” He did a kneel and bow to Thorin, fisted hand over his heart.

Balin nodded in gratitude, “Your allegiance is noted, Father of Broadbeam.”

From the right table, the dwarf that had been sitting next to Broadbeam, an elderly dwarf whose hair had long turned silver and was braided with all manner of battle symbols, stood. His eyes, a deep green shade, looked not only at Thorin but at the two heirs of Thorin, with scrutiny. He made his way forward, bowed lightly, and stated, “I, Hagen, Father of the Clan Stonefoot, beseech our allegiance to Thorin II Oakenshield, Mahal as my witness.” It was short, formal but traditional. Expected from a dwarf leader who easily had seen more war than most.

Nodding once again, the white haired advisor remarked, “Your allegiance is noted, Father of Stonefoot.”

That left three other dwarves. Kili, while he tried to keep his face as stoic as his uncle and brother’s, couldn’t help but look them over with nerves peering out of his eyes. His uncle had kept his explanation short and Kili was beginning to see why. If you gave too much information, Mahal only knew what would come of it.

Ironfist did not rise but he looked to Thorin and inquired, “Thorin, son of Thrain, your grandfather fell to the Gold Sickness and he never pulled himself free. To say you have done so is a feat worthy of praise.” He added, “Your destruction of Azog and your sister-sons’ conquest over Bolg is another task not easily done.” He stood and remarked, “I commend and thank you for that.” He gave a half bow which the three Sons of Durin returned.

            When he did not move from his spot, he asked, “Your hard work ethic is not unknown, Thorin Oakenshield. It precedes you. However, that may not be enough to maintain your sanity. It did not save your grandfather.”

            Dwalin spoke out, breaking his silence. “And Thorin is not his grandfather, Lord Ironfist. I knew Thror and while he was a dwarf worthy of his status, he pales in comparison to his grandson. Thorin’s sole objective has always been for his people, no matter where he stands. Wilderness, battle, captivity. It has always been for his people.”

            Ironfist eyed Thorin. “So I have heard. It’s a noble feat. How do you intend to keep your people safe Thorin?”

            “With anything I must.” Thorin’s voice did not waver. “I have bled and starved for my folk and I will continue to do it. My grandfather lost sight of the purpose of a king. The purpose of a king is to serve, to protect his people. Even…amid my Gold Sickness, I like to think that I maintained some sense of that.” He meant that. His paranoia had always been about someone coming for his kingdom, his people, his treasure. Never for just him. Never just for his gain or loss. “I have gained true battle brothers and in them I place my trust. If I should falter, if I should begin to fail, I know they shall guide me straight once more, as we correct metal when it warps.”

            Ironfist considered this. “You place a great deal of trust in them,”

            “I could do no other. I said when I began my quest that I would take each of them over an army from the Iron Hills and I stand by that.” He lifted his head high and his voice rang with the strength of ten battalions, “They came to my cause, without any promise of success except their faith in me. It was their faith in me, their trust in me that let me preserve. I return their faith by trusting them to keep me true.”

            A warm smile finally seeped from Ironfist’s face, peeking out from behind his beard. He stepped around the table and took a knee before Thorin, “And so, I shall return faith as well, Thorin II Oakenshield. You have the allegiance of the Ironfist Family, so I, Halvarn Ironfist, declare with Mahal as my witness.”

            After a moment, the brown haired dwarf, who had remained silent the entire meeting, rose, leaving only Firebeard sitting. The brown bearded dwarf approached Thorin and advised, “Ironfist has never steered me wrong and your words ring with conviction.” He narrowed his eyes, “Do not make me regret my support, Thorin Oakenshield.”

            A bright smile spread over his face and with a nod, Thorin grasped the dwarf’s forearm. “If your faith in me is ever not rewarded, I shall relinquish the throne myself.”

            Bowing, falling to one knee, the dwarf Lord intoned, “I, Jerrik Blacklock, patriarch of the Blacklock clan, do decree our allegiance to Thorin II Oakenshield, Mahal as my witness.” Rising from his bow, Blacklock took his stance among the other Dwarf Lords, now five in number standing before Thorin.

            Firebeard made no move to rise. He puffed his pipe and remarked, “I am unconvinced.”

            Of course, Fili pondered. Firebeard has always been hard headed, worse so than an orc. All pride and hot air, he is.

            The blond haired prince reached over and gently brushed his younger brother’s fingers, giving a soft command of ‘Calm’ in Khuzdul. Everyone knew that Kili had a passionate temper and nothing ignited it more than insult to family.

            Given Fili was near exploding himself, he thought it best to intervene early.

            Kili’s tight muscles were apparent from a distance but he took a breath in to still his heart as their uncle addressed his final opponent, calm as could be. Was that something you obtained over time or with training? Kili had never understood their uncle’s ability to do so.

            “What might I offer to change your doubts, Lord Firebeard?” Thorin’s inquiry felt genuine even though everyone who knew him was well aware that any interactions with Firebeard had always been short nerved.

            Fili was beginning to consider if it would be worth it to just punch the arrogant dwarf. The way he looked at his uncle, puffed at his pipe and leaned back, as if they were discussing mere weather and not the fate of their race’s leadership. The utter smugness to his eyes made Fili sick. It always had. Every single time this dwarf had ventured into the Blue Mountains, had appeared in their Uncle’s Halls, it was always with that look and yet he always came begging for something, never to offer.

            “I doubt you can offer anything, Thorin Longbeard.” Firebeard remarked.

            It was a simple thing, using the name Longbeard. Granted, it was the official family name for those descended from Durin’s Line but everyone knew that when you had earned a new moniker, a name given for your feats in battle, it was an insult to be called otherwise. Fili and Kili were too young to be addressed formally with their earned moniker of ‘Dragonsbane’ (a century worth of life was required for it to be an everyday occurrence) but Thorin never failed to praise them for it and it had become commonplace with the Company.

            Thorin’s feats were well established. They were well earned.

            He spat on the Dwarf King-to-be’s name by disregarding it. To do so, so suddenly, was obviously deliberate.

            Dwalin finally spoke up, “Ya got any sense of honor to you? You’d disrespect the blood Thorin shed before Moria?”

            Firebeard, while he did push back a bit, retorted, “Aye, blood that was shed for naught. Do we reside in Moria? No. So what was it for, eh?”

            Kili looked ready to snap.

            Balin was biting his lip.

            Dwalin was beginning to look on the verge of a madness rage.

            Thorin, among all things, looked hurt. It was very faint, only noticeable to those who knew him well. Fili had only seen that look a few times in his life and it was haunting each time. He hid it well but it was there. The pain that came from the heart.

            Fili broke.

[amarabliss]

More Than A Pretty Face - 9 (Thorin Oakenshield/Reader)

IMAGINE MEETING WITH THORIN OAKENSHIELD BEFORE GANDALF AND SHARING A VISION WITH HIM OF WHAT COULD COME TO PASS…

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

How a simple motion could set a person into action. Thorin felt his first step forward when your knees hit the ground, and his voice came crying out as locks of your hair fell to the planks, “Wait!”

Your eyes looked up meeting his causing his heart to ache when he saw them lined with tears. The cruel goblin had not cut much away but the damage was done. It took everything to pull his eyes away from yours and look to the king.

“Oh…” The great goblin leaned forward looking at him, “Thorin…son Thrain…son of Thror, king under the mountain.”

He felt his jaw clench at his next words, “Oh wait…you don’t have a mountain and you’re not a king, which makes you nobody really.”

“Let her go.” Thorin spoke quickly, “If you would see harm come to anyone here, let it be to me.”

He heard his men behind him disagree, stepping forward themselves to take his place. Never did the dwarf king take his eyes off the large goblin who only began to chuckle, “Why would I do that? I will get to you when it’s your turn. You see…I know someone who’s been looking for you, well, not necessarily all of you. Just your head.”

Thorin’s eyes glanced to you as they pulled your arms back further causing another cry to escape your mouth. His eyes were drawn back to the king when he spoke, “Perhaps you know of whom I speak…An old enemy of yours. A pale orc, astride a white warg.”

He swallowed down the instant knot in his throat, “Azog the Defiler was destroyed…He was slain in battle long ago!”

“So, you think his defiling days are done, do you?” The goblin king laughed before turning to a small pathetic goblin on a swing, “Send word to the defiler, tell him I have found his prize.”

“Until then…” The king turned back to Thorin, “I can see you care for this one. This disgusting specimen…let me see her again.”

Thorin made a move to help you and two large goblins pounced on him. He watched as you were forced to your feet to face the king. Your fists clenched as you looked up to him. He reached out to touch you making Thorin jerk against his captures, “You are not a dwarf…but you will die among them.”

You winced away at his oily touch. Your voice was only a whisper as you spoke, “I will not die here today…you, however…would you like to know how you die?”

“No one would dare.” The goblin took his hand back spitting down at you, “No one would try.”

“A sword…from the most unlikely of creatures…” Your voice was louder, so all could hear, “…you do not scare me vile thing…”

The king growled leaning down close to your face, “You will live regret that. Finish her make over boys…cause her great shame.”

“No!” Thorin growled pulling trying to break free as threw you to ground again. The goblin who had cut your hair before moved to the pile of weapons taken from them. He reached down pulling up Thorin’s blade.

Everyone watched him recoil when he began to unsheathe it. It scurried backwards as the king him self recoiled, “I know that sword! It is the goblin cleaver! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!”

Immediately the group was pounced upon as the king shouted for their heads. Thorin the ground his head thunking against the wood planks. He cried out pushing the goblins away as much as he could.

“Cut off his head!” He heard over the shrieks that towered over him. His arms were pinned down as a goblin towered over him a jagged knife raised above it’s head.

“Thorin!” He heard you but could not see you through the mass of goblin bodies piling around him. He braced himself for the knife that was about to impale him.

Just as the hideous creature moved to do so a great wave of energy passed through the cave sending goblins flying. Thorin swallowed down his racing thoughts feeling his arms free again. He rolled over to go help you as a grey wizard began to speak, “Take up arms…”

“Y/N…” He reached down pulling you up. He saw your jaw clenched and eyes focused. He understood, now was not the time for concern, but survival.

“Fight…” Gandalf drew his sword as the company began grabbing their weapons and gear, “Fight!”

Thorin was quickly tossed Orcist as goblins began to try and over take him. He slashed them down putting himself between you and them, “Stay behind me!”

“Y/N!” You turned putting your back up against Thorin’s as Dwalin tossed you your pack. You grabbed it quickly putting your attached bow around yourself securing it before dropping the bag pulling out the sword.

Thorin glanced back at you holding it out in front of yourself. He’d only ever seen you use a bow, “You know how to use that?”

“We’re about to find out.” You let out a cry as you swung low take out a goblins legs. Thorin went over your head seizing the opportunity to behead a few others.

He’d never been in combat with someone who’s movements were so fluid. Yes, dwarven units moved together and kept a formation together. But fighting alongside you was like an extension of himself. You finished each other’s attacks, stepped in when the other countered. It was exhilarating and intimate.

You ran next to him looking ahead, “We’re running out of bridge!”

“Do you trust me!?” He shouted above the echoing shrieks. He saw your eyes widen thoughts racing through them before you nodded. Running still, he put his sword arm around you.

You looked forward seeing a rotted piece of rope hanging out from the bridge. You tensed shaking your head, “No…”

“Yes!” He jumped half dragging you with him as he reached out grabbing onto the rope. It swung forward before breaking under the strain. He felt you grab onto him tightly as it finally snapped sending them falling forward into a roll.

You were quickly back on your feet hoisting him up seeing the rest of the company hurtling toward them. Gandalf in the lead he shouted, “Move!”

Thorin nodded pushing you forward as the rest of the group crowded around them. The twist and turns became confusing as the run continued. Finally every skidded to a halt behind the grey wizard who stood before great goblin.

“What are you going to do now, wizard?” The goblin king spoke confidently.

Thorin made a move to help the old man, but you pulled onto his coat making him stop. He watched the wizard stab the goblin before cutting his throat. He was surprised that Gandalf was capable of such an action, but he did not have time to ponder on it long as the piece of bridge gave out from under them.

Everyone cried out as the bridge tumbled and fell through the chasm. Thorin grunted as you slipped through his grasp when landing against the side. You looked up at him wide eyed reaching up feeling a strong hand clasp yours.

Thorin breathed easily as Dwalin pulled you next to him as the bridge began to slow down between two walls. Everyone began to move slowly off the bridge, and Gandalf helped you down as Bofur spoke, “Well that could’ve been worse.”

You jumped as the body of the goblin king landed on them causing them to cry out. Dwalin who was just about to roll of the pile groaned, “Oh, you’ve got to be joking…”

Fili and Kili ran up beside you. As Fili began asking if you were alright Kili looked above them at the approaching horde, “…there’s too many of them!”

“Run!” Gandalf shouted as they all began to run again.

Thorin noticed you cringe holding your side as you took off next to him, “Will you make it?”

“I have to, if I want to live.” You told him breathing heavily. You felt him put his arm around you, “Thorin, I will slow you down.”

“I will not leave you behind.” He told you firmly as he helped you keep up.

Everything after exiting the mountain was a firey blur. He felt fear and anger and he let it cloud is judgement. He sat along the ridge where the eagles had left them staring off at the Lonely Mountain. It was a beautiful sight, but he could not enjoy it like he wanted to.

He looked up at his nephews taking a seat on either side of him. He smiled a little as they stared off into the distance, “Soon you will both look upon the halls of your father and see it’s wonder.”

“We will together, uncle.” Kili looked at him with a smile, “You are feeling well?”

“Well enough.” Thorin sighed looking down at his hands, “It will not stop me from our travel, but I know of a city not far from here. We’ll go there. I’ll get some work and the rest may find some rest.”

“Uncle, you fair worst then the rest of us…we will pull our weight.” Fili told him confidently worry for his uncle’s wellbeing racing through his eyes.

Thorin looked him nodding, “We will breach the topic when the time comes.”

The three fell silent staring off into the distance as the sun began to reach it’s afternoon high. Finally, Thorin glanced back at the group assessing their situation. Everyone had their things spread out, while Bombur began to cook them something. His eyes narrowed when he couldn’t find you, “Boys, where is our lady companion?”

Fili looked at him frowning, “She went down to the river below some time ago…”

“Alone?” Thorin looked at him concerned.

“Yes.” Kili got his attention, “None of us had the heart to follow her. She looked very…sad…”

Thorin swung his legs up from the ledge and began to walk toward the path leading down, “Uncle!”

He turned as Fili ran up to him, “Uncle we were all there…we all know…”

“Fili, speak your mind.” Thorin frowned watching his oldest nephew struggle to find words.

“I just…worry that we will all say something wrong. Something to offend her and scare her away.” Fili looked him in the eyes, “And for some reason, I think she needs to be here with us. So, please, be delicate. She is…fine glass amongst hammers.”

Thorin smiled at his nephew before putting his hands on his shoulders, “I appreciate your concern for her. I too worry that we will be too brash and scare her away, but I assure you that I have every intention to treat her like the finest of jewels. Gently.”

Fili smiled a little as he nodded, “Good…I like her, uncle, and I am glad that you like her as well.”

Thorin’s eyes lit up surprised, “I…”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Fili told him quietly, “I saw the way you looked at her at Rivendell when she walked down those stairs…and how you reacted in front of that beast back there. We all did.”

Thorin took a deep breath in holding it for a moment before he spoke, “And…what does every think?”

Fili’s eyes lit up as he smiled, “Uncle…your happiness is our happiness.”

“That did not answer the question…” Thorin whispered to him as he began to step away from his uncle, “Fili…”

His nephew stopped looking at him, “You have nothing to fear. She is a beauty and a wonder that we all respect.”

Thorin watched him rejoin his brother flicking him in the ear to get a rise out of him. He chuckled as they swatted at one another before he turned heading down the path. The river was insight just around the corner and he could just begin to make out a form he assumed was you near it.

He didn’t know what he was going to say to you. You’d done so much for the entire company in the last day and saved him countless times with the goblins. He knew he needed to say something…he knew he needed to say many things.

He came up behind you kneeling at the calm river looking down at your reflection. You were touching the loose locks that hung from the rest of your hair. His heart hurt seeing how deeply this pained you, “I am so sorry…”

You jumped looking at him. You let out a sigh putting a hand over your heart, “You scared the life out of me…”

“I am sorry for that too.” He took a few more steps toward you as you stood up.

“For the later, I forgive. For the former…I don’t know what you are referring to.” You told him brushing your hair behind your ear. A foreign movement to you.

“I’ve put you in so much danger…” He took another step closer to you making you look up to his face, “I have put you in a position that-that made you lose a great deal…and hurt you.”

You looked down the hair slipping back out from behind your ear, “You did not do anything. I put myself next to you and your company. What has happened, happened because I chose it. You did not put the knife to my throat.”

“But I should have been in your place.” He told you firmly.

“No.” You shook your head, “If you had been there, you would be dead. That is not something that can happen. Besides…it is hair…it will grow again.”

He watched you frustrated, push the hair behind your ear. He swallowed before licking his lips, “I could help you…braid your hair.”

You looked to him again surprise written on your face. You flushed as you spoke, “I couldn’t let you…I know that means you care deeply for someone.”

“It does.” His heart skipped as your eyes met with his. He reached up slowly letting his fingers grasp the loose bits of your hair.

Your face flushed more as your gaze never left his, and you spoke at a whisper, “I am not dwarf.”

His head tilted a little, “Does that matter to you?”

“No…I just…” You looked down for a moment, “I thought…”

“It does not matter to me.” He whispered his fingers still playing with your hair.

You stared at him the sound over the river all that greeted them. You spoked finally when the silence became too much, “What will this mean? I know it’s…important…but what are the...promises, if you do this…”

You were being careful with your heart. He could understand. You were not a young person who would throw their heart out carelessly. He took a deep breath in before he spoke letting his hand drop to his side, “The braid would mean that I am courting you…with the intention of proposing.”

“Thorin, we barely know one another…” You stepped away from him at the word propose looking away.

He could see this fear well up in you and it concerned him, “Yet you do feel it. This ease…this connection. I know I love you.”

Your eyes snapped to his face as he went on softly, “I love you…I know it seems…foolish. I know. The idea is frightening, but there is this old belief within our society that there is one soul out there in the world that we connect to, our One.”

“And you believe that, I, am your ‘One’?” You swallowed staring at him as he nodded slowly, “And you intend to propose.”

“Truthfully, I would do it now…but I know it is not a normal pace.” He told you feeling his nerves begin to boil, “I do not mean to make this rush…but I cannot keep my feelings for you hidden any longer after seeing how close we all came to death this past day.”

You looked away for third time now staring at the river. You smiled shaking your head a little as you spoke softly, “Tho a'o llha' ha'rcs iya'aum hooam llarr fao nnaghriy.”

He’d never heard you speak such a language before, “…what does that mean?”

“Hm…” You turned back to him letting your arms fall to your sides, “it’s something my father said to me a long time ago…all you need to know is…I will allow you to court me, but I cannot accept a proposal…it will take time.”

His heart swelled at the simple fact that you did not reject him, that you didn’t deny that there was something between the two of you. He smiled offer his hand to you, “I can accept that, as I do understand.”

You slid you hand into his feeling warmth spread through you instantly, “So…how does this…work?”

He guided you over to a nearby rock releasing your hand to take off his coat laying it on the ground for you, “It’s very simple…please sit…and relax.”

“Relax?” You tilted your head a little confused.

“That is the idea.” He took a seat offering his hand to you again helping you down between his legs, “The idea of this custom is to spend time with one another. Braiding can take a long time.”

“Do we have the time?” You glanced back at him concerned.

“I will make the time, do not worry, kurdel.” He smiled at you again putting you at ease as he began to undo the ribbons in your hair.

After a moment you spoke slowly, “That word…kurdel…it’s an affectionate term?”

“Yes.” He nodded placing a ribbon on his knee gently. He knew they were important, “It means heart of hearts…my heart.”

He watched the tips of your ears redden, “I see.”

“Does it embarrass you to be referred to as such?” He asked pulling out another ribbon.

You sighed shaking your head a little, “It’s not embarrassment it’s…unusal. I’m used to just being a traveler, a guest, a friend…it’s been a long time since I’ve been a homashoc a'o.”

He chuckled a little seeing you smirk a little, “I assume that is an endearment?”

“You’re not the only one who can speak something other than common.” You told him playfully, “Yes it means one who’s to be cherished.”

“Can you say it again?” He asked you quietly.

You swallowed speaking slowly, “Homashoc a’o.”

“Homa…” He found the language soft compared to Khuzdul.

“-ashoc…” You turned your head as he repeated you, “a’o…”

“…a’o…” He nodded a little as you blushed, “I wish cherish you, every single day.”

You turned your head back so he could continue undoing the mess you always made when you put your hair up. You had no response for him. How could you? You known him a few weeks and that was it.

You brought from your thoughts from a quick sharp pain that came from your head, “Ah…”

“I am sorry…” He sighed trying to be gentle.

“This is not uncommon.” You told him with a huff, “I am not the best at keeping my hair maintained on the road, and we did travel through snow and a storm and goblins…do what you must, you will not hurt me.”

Several yelps later you wild main was free from ribbons. Your hair was not actually wild he began to find as he combed his fingers through it. He smiled as you sighed slowly relaxing as he began working the braids through out your hair. The goblin had only managed to cut the front portion of the left side. Enough that it was a nuisance to you, but braided it was rather delightful to look at.

It took a while to finish but once he was satisfied he put his hands on the sides of your arms. You jumped just slightly as you had fallen back against the rock between his legs watching the river, “It’s finished…”

You looked back at him, “Already?”

“Did you imagine it would take all night?” He chuckled a little as you moved over to the river. He watched as you stared down into the reflection seeing the braid fall over your right shoulder neatly. He smiled when you touched a smile coming to your lips.

As you turned your head as small gasp came as you saw the ribbons woven in on the left side giving you the length you lost back and allowed him to make a colorful design through the braid, “Thorin…”

“I know they mean to you…” He stepped over to you, “It’s the one thing that is from your father and mother…It would be wrong of me to keep that from you.”

You turned to him tears at that corners of our eyes, “Thank you…it’s beautiful…all of it.”

He nodded putting his hand to your cheek gently brushing an escaping tear away, “I should be thanking you for the honor.”

“We will have to talk about customs more.” You sniffed wiping a hand over your face. He could tell that this moment was affecting you in more way then one, “I feel there is a gap that we should connect.”

“Y/N…” You paused as you moved away. He looked at you with concern, “This is more than ribbons in your hair, isn’t it?”

You looked away feeling surprised. You could feel his concern for you. You always did. You felt everything when you were around him. Perhaps they weren’t meant to hide anything from each other, if they really were destined for each other. You swallowed and nodded, “Yes…”

“What is it?” His brow came together as he offered his hands to you. Something you didn’t expect. You had always been used of people just taking their affection. He offered it, but never expected it in return.

You turned to him putting your hands in his slowly again feeling the warmth spread up your arms, “I…am not used to feeling…pretty and this gift you given me tonight in the form of braid of all things…it’s wonderful. I know it’s silly…”

“It’s not silly.” You looked into his eyes not seeing someone who found the confession trivial. You teared up more as you stared up into his eyes. You looked down shaking your head, “Amrâlimê…”

“It’s too much…too soon…” You whispered feeling him step away his hands linger on yours, “I’m sorry Thorin…I’ve been hurt to deeply for you to be so kind so fast…”

His heart stung as he stood there holding your hands a world between them as you looked up showing your tear stained cheeks, “Y/N…I will work everyday to prove to you that I love you. That I have no intention of hurting you. You have nothing to fear from me. I am not that person who hurt you.”

You nodded slowly looking at him his eyes full of sincerity and conviction. This was a man you could love, for when you looked into his eyes you felt home. You were only scared that it would be taken from you again like it had so many times before. You couldn’t risk your heart unless you were sure he’d stay.

He smiled giving your hands a soft squeeze, “We should go back to camp. I’m sure supper is ready.”

You nodded instantly feeling the absence when he let go of your hands and moved to pick up his coat. Your eyes followed him watching him a moment before you spoke, “I do feel something…it is there…you should know.”

He looked at him hope glimmering in his eyes as he smiled, “I never doubted it amrâlimê…”

You sniffed as you stepped with him toward the path, “Are you going to tell me what that means?”

“I’m going to let you figure that one out.” He smiled helping you up the ridge, “I’m sure it won’t take you long.”

The walk up the slope was quiet. The pair simply enjoying the presence of each other. Stealing soft glances when accidently, or not, bumping each other’s hands stealing moments of touch.

Thorin watched the company look up as the pair walked into the camp seeing smiles, approving looks and what he could only describe as pride as their new queen walked beside him. Well, potential queen.

Dwalin who’s face was blank stood up walking toward the pair. He stopped in front of you looking over to Thorin before his eyes went back to you again, “My lady, you have arm no matter the request, I will always be at your service.”

You watched him put a hand to his chest and bow, “I…I…thank you, Dwalin.”

Soon the rest of the company was standing behind him all a hand to their chest bowing low. Thorin smiled proudly before moving next to Dwalin putting his hand over his heart looking you in the eye as he bowed as well, “May we serve you well, amrâlimê.”

The moment was over just like that. You stepped up to Thorin whispering, “You said of that…”

“As you said, we should discuss customs…” He smirked a little seeing distress, “Fret not…they anticipate you becoming queen…I will let them all know you have not accepted such a role and to treat you no differently. It will be hard for some, but you will be no worse for wear.”

“All this over a braid…” You sighed walking with him over to fire smirking a little at him.

He was about to give some sass but Fili and Kili jumped up at once. Kili smiled at you brightly, “Does this mean we get to start calling you Auntie?”

“Uh…no…not yet.” You blushed a little.

“Kili, back off. I’m sure uncle and Y/N have things planned out in their own way and time.” Fili was also smiling, but his maturity shown through as he looked at you, “You look lovely…may I get a better look?”

“Oh, I wish you would, he did such an amazing job…look at what he did with my ribbons!” Thorin new you had no idea what it meant that you were telling everyone how wonderful of a job he did. The praise was enough to make his heart sing for days.

Balin stepped up to him as you were pulled away, “You did a fine job lad.”

“I am only half way there…” He glanced a Balin as you continued to gush over his handy work to more of the troupe, “I have yet to propose.”

“But you did tell her everything?” Balin questioned him seriously, watching his king nod slowly. Relief spread through the old dwarf’s shoulders, “Good…it will not come as a surprise then.”

“Balin…she has been hurt so badly in the past…” Thorin turned to him finally.

“Laddy…the way she praises you now…” Balin smiled brightly, “When the time comes, you will have nothing to fear.”

Thorin watched him step away going over to you to inspect the braid. He watched your smile brighten as Balin began to speak to you. Your gaze drifted to him across the fire. You smiled again, but it was different. It was for him.

He nodded to you and stood unassuming to the rest of the group, simply watching you with everyone feeling full for the first time in many years.

[kayleighhalliday2203]

His Queen Part 13 Modern!AU Thranduil

Previous Chapter Here

Masterpost

Chapter 13

Thranduil didn’t move for a full minute. He stood stock still, staring at the young red head. The young man at her side looked as equally shaken and his knuckles turned white as his hand tightened on the car seat he held. When Wednesday regained her senses, she stepped forward, reaching out to grab Thranduil’s hand, but he stepped away before she could touch him.

The crowd that was gathered around the young couple stood still as Thranduil approached. Wednesday had always thought of him as tall but as he strode across the room, the perfect embodiment of calm and strength, she realised just how tall he was, head above everyone else. He stopped just in front of Tauriel, offering her a small smile before turning to the infant in the car seat. “And who do we have here?” he asked, his deep voice vibrating around the room. Everyone in the room seemed to let out their collective breath. “Ho...Holly,” Tauriel choked out before nudging the man at her side. He quickly put the car seat down and lifted out the small baby it held. Thranduil took the child into his arms as the people around them began to talk again, all the tension starting to dissipate.

Wednesday moved forward, Legolas close behind her. Thranduil had a broad smile on his face as he looked down at the child in his arms. “Hello Holly,” he said gently. Holly blinked up at him with wide, blue eyes. Legolas brushed past his father to embrace Tauriel. Wednesday held back a little, she didn’t know them, it wasn’t her place. “She is beautiful,” Thranduil said as he returned Holly to her father, “Congratulations Tauriel, and you, Kili.” Kili nodded as he held his daughter. “I’m sorry,” Tauriel said quickly, “For lying.” Thranduil reached out to brush her copper hair back.. “There is nothing to forgive,” he said. He turned to Wednesday and his smile faltered.

Wednesday glanced back over her shoulder and saw Thorin and Fili approaching. Thranduil headed to the door, clearly in no hurry to be in Thorin’s presence. Wednesday was about to follow when she saw Bard put down his drink and follow him. Bard gestured to her to not rush out. “Miss McQueen,” Thorin said, “A pleasure and a surprise to see you again.” “And you, Mr Durinson,” she replied politely. “You haven’t met my youngest nephew, this is Kili, Fili’s brother,” Thorin said, indicating the dark-haired man who currently held the infant Holly, “Kili, this is Wednesday McQueen, Thranduil’s…..I’m not sure what.” “Squeeze, lover,” suggested Fili.

“Partner,” Wednesday said, “Girlfriend, if it suits you better.” She shot a quick glare at Fii, a reminder of the bargain they had struck months before. His face quickly dropped and he became suddenly very interested in his drink. She turned back to Tauriel and Kili, now understanding some of the tension in the room. If Thranduil and Thorin didn’t get along, a relationship between Thranduil’s ward and Thorin’s nephew was bound to put people on edge. “It was nice to meet you, all three of you,” she said, offering them a sincere smile and a glance down at the baby, “I should find Thranduil.” She moved away and headed for the door.

Once outside, she found Thranduil leaning against the low wall, Bard next to him. “You mean this has been going on for six years and you never noticed?” Bard asked. “No,” Thranduil ground out, “She went everywhere with Legolas, I had no idea. A Durinson? How? How did they even meet?” “I have no idea,” Bard replied as Wednesday walked over towards them, “No one round here knew until Christmas. We were all in Bofur’s, just finishing up, must have been about two in the morning. Suddenly Kili’s phone rang and he ran out the door. We heard Frerin’s old truck start up and he was gone. Came back around dawn, with her and they’ve been hid away at Balin’s ever since. I only found out this evening that she’d had the baby.” Thranduil groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Bard looked up and saw Wednesday.

“I’ll head back in,” he said, leaving them alone. Wednesday stood in front of Thranduil for a moment before reaching up and pulling his hand away from his face. He blinked at her for a moment.

“You and Thorin need to work this out,” she said simply, “Whether you like it or not, you're family now. It won't be fair on anyone if you two won't stay in the same room as each other. You said it yourself, you're the closest thing Tauriel has to a parent.” “Why concern yourself?” Thranduil questioned. Wednesday let out a sigh. “Honestly, I don’t trust Thorin to not interfere in how that child is raised,” she said. It was the truth, from what little she had seen of the man, he seemed to run his family like a business, with an iron fist. From his veiled threats to Ori, to Fili’s terror at seeing one of his vices out in the world, she didn’t trust the man to keep out of Kili and Tauriel’s relationship at all.

Thranduil blinked at her in surprise. “You see it too?” he asked. She nodded. “Tauriel needs someone in her corner to make Thorin back off,” she said, linking her fingers with his. “I don’t even know where to start with repairing my relationship with her,” he replied, “It was not just Legolas and I who exchanged cross words when they left.” “You already did back there,” Wednesday reassured him, using her knee to part his legs enough to slide between them, “But my suggestion would be to install yourself as Holly’s favourite grandpa.” Thranduil cringed. “Grandpa,” he winced, “The word makes me feel old.” Wednesday ran a hand through his hair. He had started growing it back from when it had been cut, apparently missing the ‘hippy’ look. “You aren’t old,” she said, “You don’t have nearly as much grey hair as Thorin.” Thranduil snorted with laughter but didn’t resist when she pulled his head down to hers to give him a kiss. His arms slipped around her waist as he flicked his tongue out to taste her lips. She let out a sigh of contentment.

An cough from behind them had the pair pull apart abruptly. Wednesday looked over her shoulder and saw a friendly-looking man stood there, a pint of Guinness in each hand and a huge grin on his face. “Wednesday, this is Bofur, he owns the place,” Thranduil said gesturing to the man. Bofur grinned even more. “And you are the infamous Miss McQueen that Balin mentioned,” Bofur said, a faint Irish accent in his voice. “Word has gotten around about me pretty quickly,” Wednesday observed. “Well, not much happens out here and everyone knows everyone so it gets around fast,” Bofur said before offering the two pint glasses, “Here, to wet the baby’s head.” Thranduil and Wednesday took the offered drinks. “Now, don’t forget, pint for every pound, and a shot for every ounce,” Bofur laughed before turning and heading back in.

“He seems nice,” Wednesday said before taking a sip of the stout. “Who? Bofur? He could make friends with a brick wall,” Thranduil said, sipping his own drink, “You’re right though, about Thorin. A truce between us will benefit everyone, especially with Smaug back in the picture.” “I wholeheartedly agree,” Thorin spoke, making Wednesday jump slightly. He was stood in the doorway of the pub, looking over at them; a pint of Guinness in one hand and a cane in the other. “As displeased as I was to learn that Kili had kept this relationship of his from me,” he continued as he walked over to them, “You are right. Woodland Realm and Oakenshield are the only Top Ten Companies in the area yet to allow Smaug to meddle in their affairs. If we maintain a united front, we can protect Lake Dale from further harm from that worm, perhaps even heal past injuries. As it stands, I have a business proposition for you.” “What exactly?” Thranduil asked. His shoulders had tensed; this rivalry was not going to be easily cast aside it seemed. “This is not the time or place,” Thorin said, “Perhaps I can come to you tomorrow morning, say nine o’clock, I will bring my proposal in writing for you.” “Make it ten,” Thranduil replied, “I am on vacation with my family.” “Ten o’clock it is,” Thorin agreed, “I shall see you then, Elfking.” “Thranduil,” he interjected, “Come now Thorin, it would appear we are family. We should save the Elfkings and Durinsons for business only.” “Very well then, Thranduil,” Thorin confirmed, “I shall see you tomorrow. Miss…..Wednesday.” He nodded to her before turning and heading back inside. “There,” Wednesday smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind Thranduil’s ear, “First names.” “I feel dirty,” Thranduil commented. She playfully slapped his shoulder as he chuckled.

They stood that way for a long time, Wednesday between his powerful, long legs. The two of them just stood there, sipping their stout and looking out at the calm lake. It was only when both glasses stood on the wall, empty and Thranduil had taken her into his arms again that he spoke. “I could do this forever,” he said, looking down at her, “Stand here by the lake. With you.” He bent down and kissed her forehead gently. A gentle kiss that sent a shiver down her spine as she realised that being by the lake for the rest of her life was not just her vision. 

It was theirs.