#Thorin fanfiction

[lathalea]

hi! you said you were writing the next chapter of entangled! can we get a snippet? i love this story ❤️

Hello hello Nonnie! Thank you so much for your lovely ask :)

How about this snippet? I hope you'll like it!

Mista visits the Great Forges of the Lonely Mountain, searching for Thorin.

“Captain Dwalin, I don’t want to disturb…” she began. Suddenly, Dwalin’s hand closed over her arm and pulled her unceremoniously to the side. “Sorry, M’lady,” he offered just as a group of forge workers passed them by dangerously close, wheeling a large cauldron filled with some smelly, fumy substance. “I’m sorry, I did not see them coming!” Mista adjusted her glasses nervously, regaining her composure. “When ye’re in the Forges, ye have to have eyes around yer head,” Dwalin said. “INCOMING!” a shout echoed from a distance and something heavy thudded against the floor, making it tremble under her feet. Mista gasped, quickly looking around. “Nothin’ to worry about, M’lady,” Dwalin explained. “Ye can say we’re remodellin’ the place after Smaug. That slug didn’t have even a shred of good taste.” She chuckled nervously, trying to calm herself down. “My Lady Mista!” A familiar rumbly voice reached her ears. Her heart fluttered. She lifted her gaze towards the King. Thorin was approaching her fast, taking off his gloves. His brow was furrowed and he kept on staring straight at her with those piercing blue eyes of his. A few unruly strands of his hair stuck to his face and his lips were parted as he took in a deep breath. His chest rose and — oh, Mahal — Mista caught a very good glimpse of its full bare glory. The well-defined pectoral muscles dusted with dark hair, the geometric tattoos, the — Mahal, was that a piercing?! — strong core muscles, and that stripe of hair trailing all the way down to… Mista swallowed. Her knees felt unusually weak.

📜 You can find the masterlist for Entangled here

Random no pressure taglist: @I-am-the-raven-queen @ruthoakenshield @asgardianhobbit98 @justfollowtheroad @silvergemofdurin

@sverdgeir @blackqueengold @exhausted-humxn-being @balrog-prevention-society

@littlesweetdressmaker @alwayssevvy @sleepycreativewriter @emmanuellececchi @sazzlep 

@lyl1pad @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog @shantismurf @dustie-faerie @beenovel @thorne-kreizler-fanfiction @thatshadowintheuniverse @animal4princess-blog

[gloomwitchwrites]

Missed Hints

King Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): fluff, light angst, humor, pregnancy, suggestive themes, fade to black, established relationship

Word Count: 1.8k

With the pregnancy confirmed, you decide to drop little hints until Thorin makes the connections.

ao3 // main masterlist

For @protosslady

“You’re pregnant, your majesty.”

Those two little words are enough to make time freeze. You are cold, a bit hesitant, and completely unbelieving of what you’re hearing.

“Are you sure?” you ask slowly, needing to know if you’ve heard her correctly.

The midwife, Lena, smiles broadly. “As sure as the sun rises in the morning. I’ve been doing this for close to thirty summers now. Rarely am I ever wrong.”

Lena’s assistant, Petal, matches Lena’s smile with one of her own. It is radiant and sunny, a stark difference from your sudden anxiousness. “This is wonderful news,” she exclaims. “King Thorin will be so pleased.”

“Indeed,” agrees Lena. “And so will the people when it’s formally announced.”

Both women sigh at the same time, but you are not nearly as excited as they are.

You and Thorin did try for a child many times in the beginning of your marriage. It was enthusiastic—and constant—but nothing ever came of it. While it bothered you, Thorin never seemed to care. He told you that all he wanted was you and that anything else was a bonus.

That is still true. Thorin loves you.

But Thorin is being pulled in a different direction. Erebor needs attention, and Thorin throws himself into service attempting to tackle every obstacle and difficulty on his own. Most nights, he comes to bed late—usually when you’re already asleep. When you wake, he is usually gone, off to take care of his abundant duties. They are piling up, becoming a burden. Thorin does too much, and while you admire him for his dedication, you miss him.

To know that you’re pregnant is a surprise. It’s not that you and Thorin haven’t been intimate, it’s just that it hasn’t been nearly as frequent as in the past. While Thorin is gone, you have your own duties and responsibilities. When the two of you do have quiet time together, intimacy is brief but passionate and almost always followed by the two of you falling asleep in each other’s arms.

“How far along?” you ask, trying to place exactly when it might have taken.

When your cycle never came, you didn’t think much of it. That happens sometimes. But then didn’t occur during the next expected timeframe. With its absence came irritability and random bouts of sudden crying you couldn’t explain. Certain foods smelt odd, and while you weren’t emptying the contents of your stomach, constant nausea made it difficult to complete daily tasks. You knew then that something was different. And now the midwife has confirmed it.

But even with an answer, you’re not sure how you feel.

“I’d place you at about ten weeks. Perhaps eleven,” answers Lena with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

“That far?” you squeak, wincing immediately with how upset you sound.

Lena and Petal’s smiles start to diminish. Their enthusiasm melts away, replaced with furrowed brows and soft lines of concern.

“Is everything all right? You look a bit faint?” Lena places her hand on your shoulder.

“Yes,” you reply, though it sounds like you’re gasping for air. “Surprised is all.”

Their smiles return but it’s subdued.

This is supposed to be a happy occasion. A child means an heir, and it also gives the people hope for the future. Much of Erebor is still in pieces from Smaug’s habitation. That doesn’t even begin to include all the damage and death from the battle. Dale, which was once abandoned and forgotten, is starting to see life again as well. The races of Men are returning to it, hoping to rekindle its long-extinguished flame.

A royal child is a symbol of hope. It’s a moment of celebration for everyone.

“I think a bit of rest for the remainder of the day will do you some good,” says Lena softly. “We will prepare some ointments that you can use to relieve any aches or pains. Bloating is likely, and as the body makes room for the little one, you’ll have some discomfort.” Lena taps her bottom lip and then turns to Petal. “We’ll need to prepare some liquid supplements to take with meals.”

“Of course,” nods Petal. She begins packing up their supplies.

Lena squeezes your shoulder before letting go. “I’ll come check on you in a few days. Bring a few things with me. We’ll talk more then, preferably with the father present.”

“Yes,” you reply, absently rubbing your belly. “That would be best.”

The two women bow and depart quickly, leaving you alone in the royal bedchambers. The room is quiet and your breathing sounds too loud in such a large space. With hands clasped, you twist them over and over again in agitation, needing to move but unsure of how to quell the anxiousness. It’s stubborn like the deep roots of a tree that refuse to give up the dirt.

How are you to tell Thorin? How do you approach this when you rarely see him. It’s just one more thing to burden him with. Perhaps, if you dropped a few hints? Covertly toss the pregnancy in his direction and see if he picks it up?

You know deep in your gut that you shouldn’t worry over this. Thorin will be happy. He will be.

You spend the rest of the day as Lena instructs. Reclining, resting, and reading. Thorin is supposed to return tonight for evening meal. Whenever he promises an early arrival, Thorin means it. Rarely does he make promises he cannot keep.

As dinner is brought in, and the table is set, Thorin walks through the door. There is a bit of soot on his cheek like he’s been in the mines, and his cheeks are slightly flushed. When he notices you, he beams, and there is so much love there that you simply want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“My love,” he says, moving toward you swiftly. The embrace nearly sweeps you off your feet. He plants a kiss on your forehead and draws back.

“You’re filthy,” you laugh, looking him over. Thorin has been in the mines.

Thorin shrugs sheepishly. “I had to help dig. Structural issues.”

“Wash your hands at least,” you playfully tease.

“Not interested in eating a bit of dirt?” he asks with a laugh.

“Go,” you giggle, pushing away from him.

Thorin disappears and you take a seat at the table. He reappears a few minutes later, face and hands clean. The clothes he wore before are also gone, replaced with simple, fresh attire. He takes a seat next to you, gaze darting over the spread.

“I’m starving,” you begin because it’s true even though you’ve been consistently snacking all day. “It’s like I’m eating for two.”

First hint dropped.

Thorin laughs, and the sound is sweet like honey cake. “I promise, love. You couldn’t eat for me. My appetite is insatiable.” When Thorin says insatiable, he pointedly glances at you with a heated stare.

You perfectly understand his meaning.

You attempt a different angle. “I’ve also been having the oddest cravings,” you say, starting to load your plate.

“What do you mean?” asks Thorin before he pops a chunk of bread into his mouth.

“Different foods. Things I’d never eat together otherwise.” It is common knowledge that pregnant women will often crave highly specific foods and food combinations.

But Thorin doesn’t appear to pick up on the hint. He frowns, then shrugs, continuing to eat without making a comment.

Sighing, you pick up one the freshly made rolls. “I think these buns need a bit more time in the oven.” You stare hard at Thorin, mentally sending message after message. “What do you think?”

Thorin glances up at you then down at his own plate that has five of them. “I think they’re perfect but if you’d like them more done, I’ll let the kitchen know in the morning.”

“Thorin,” you say flatly.

“Yes, my love?” His head slightly tilts, and his gaze becomes pointed. He’s starting to pick up on your agitation. You don’t mean to be cross, but you were hoping that he’d figure it out so you wouldn’t have to tell him outright.

Setting the roll down on your plate, you promptly divert the conversation to a different hint. “We’ve never talked about where we’d put the nursery.”

Thorin’s brow rises toward his hairline. “I didn’t think you wanted to discuss that until we crossed that hurdle?”

Does he hear himself? Does he understand the context of what’s coming out of his mouth?

“You’re right, Thorin. I didn’t want to discuss it until we needed to.” You repeat his words back to him, slightly leaning toward him as you speak to emphasize the point.

Still, it brushes right over his head.

“Some of the advisory council members have brought up financial concerns. Rebuilding Erebor is important but the needs of the people are pressing. Food. Proper housing.” Thorin begins slicing into the chunk of roast on his plate.

Maybe you are going to have to say it outright.

Licking your lips, you ignore Thorin’s change in conversation. “I did receive a few inquiries about baby clothes. Offers to knit a few items,” you shrug.

“That’s kind of them,” says Thorin slowly. “But why—” he pauses, “you’re not—"

Thorin’s features suddenly shift, becoming almost unreadable. His jovial expression is gone, replaced with a stern consideration.

Are you going to have to shout it at the top of your lungs?

Thorin’s lips part. Promptly shuts. Opens again. “Are you…” he begins but does not finish.

You start to nod, urging him on.

Finally, like light igniting in the dark, Thorin’s face transforms into one of shock, then pure joy.

“Truly?”

“Found out just this morning.”

Thorin abruptly stands, pushing himself and his chair away from the table. He is moving toward you, grasping your hands, bringing them to his mouth to kiss your fingers.

“Why not say anything?” he asks.

“I did,” you laugh. “Many times.”

Thorin momentarily frowns before his mouth turns up into a soft smile. “Clever.”

“You’ve been busy and I was unsure of how to tell you.”

Thorin’s thumbs rub little circles over your knuckles. “You can always tell me anything. Whatever is happening. Whatever is on your mind. I wish to hear it.” He kisses the tops of your hands. “Especially something like this.”

“Are you happy?” you ask, voice cracking at the end.

“Happiest I’ve ever been.”

Thorin pulls you up from your chair, his large, muscled arm sliding behind your waist. He drags you to him, his eyelids lowering seductively, all gentleness leaving him to be replaced with desire.

“Are you up for a bit of celebrating?” he asks.

“What kind of celebrating?”

“The kind that landed us here.”

“Thorin,” you gasp, lightly slapping his chest. He snatches your wrist, kisses the pulse point there.

“The food can wait,” and his voice ends on a soft growl.

“Thorin,” you repeat, this time with a rasp to your tone.

He seizes it, draws you even closer. “The food can wait?”

You nod. “It can wait.”

[ambitiouspotions]

COURTING | THORIN OAKENSHIELD | HEADCANONS

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

thorin would be very standoffish of you at first and very annoyed that he found any attraction towards you in the first place

he wouldn’t want to be outwardly rude to you only direct and firm when speaking

he would keep his distance and keep his words to a minimum, but he would be intent on listening when you speak

when he finally convinced himself that he could speak to you without intentionally being rude he offered to take your night watches for you and offer an extra cloak so you could sleep more comfortably

he would “accidentally” kick his nephews while walking to keep them quiet due to their quips about you

it is hard to change his mind once he is set on a decision, so the moment he let his mind agree with his heart he was eager to express his feelings to you with gestures like grooming your pony, toting your heavier items, and sharpening your blades

he is quick to draw his sword in battle for you; and throws his arm in front of you so he can take any initial hit

any cut, scrape, or bruise you would acquire would cause him to curse himself for letting it occur in the first place

the moment he said “i love you” would be the moment there wouldn’t be a day without it going unsaid

with his stubbornness, any arguments that occurred would end with him settling himself and then coming back and holding your hand to his lips while apologizing

he takes you into his private chambers to sing softly to you while playing his golden harp

due to having long hair of his own, he can style yours with braids

thinks back to his dragon-sickness and frequently apologizes for his behavior; he never wanted to be cruel or rude to you so knowing he did causes him grief

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

pictures found on pinterest, edits made by AMBITIOUSPOTIONS are mushed together on canva

[vampyreelf]

Dragon Sickness

A/N: This is kinda of a continuation of It's Has Always Been You but you don't have to read it, but you should lol.

Summary: Thorin is not the same since entering Erebor, and that worries you but the sex is completely different now, especially when he's jealous.

Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Warnings: smut, some angst, breeding kink, let me know if I missed anything else.

AO3 Link

GIF on my main @ladyalatariel

Finally back in Erebor, you and Thorin were back in the halls of his kingdom and the two of you couldn’t be happier and with Smaug finally dead was a relief even though you could see the destruction he brought to Lake-Town and it made your heart sad, you only hoped that everyone was alive and well. But now, you could see Thorin was different, something was wrong with him. Thorin was obsessed with finding the Arkenstone and all of the company, including you were trying to find it, he was barking orders and overall unpleasant to be around but you paid no mind to that, you were happy to be in your home after so long.

You approached Thorin, he seemed to be talking to himself but you needed to speak with him, this was getting too much, him being inconsiderate and threatening everyone, including poor Bilbo and accusing him of having the Arkenstone. The two of you were now in your bedroom, the place still stank of dragon but you paid no mind to that.

“Thorin, my love.” You announced yourself but he didn't look at you, but he raised his head. “Are you alright? You should eat something, it’s been a long time since you ate last.” You approached him and rested your head on his shoulder but he moved away from you. “Thorin, please tell me what’s the matter. You have been behaving differently since entering Erebor, please talk to me, I’m your wife.” The fact that the two of you told each other everything and now you couldn’t be more distant hurt you a lot.

“They must’ve betrayed me.” His hushed voice and demeanor, as if he was speaking of a grand conspiracy was absurd to you, but you decided to listen to him, despite the circumstances, you missed his voice greatly.

“What do you mean, my love?” Indulging in his delusions didn't seem like the best idea but you weren’t perfect, and Thorin has been speaking in riddles for some time now.

“One of them has taken the Arkenstone.” Thorin whispered, getting closer to you, speaking directly into your face. “They betrayed me, and the hobbit…he is definitely hiding something.” Thorin was walking pacing around the bedroom, trying to explain what you can only assume his ramblings, he approached you at a great speed. “You are the only one I can trust, my sunshine.” He called you his sunshine many times, because you were the one thing that brightened any room he was in, like the sun. “We must find the culprit, the villain that betrayed me.” He touches your cheeks rather forcefully, he seemed out of his mind.

“Why do you think there is someone hiding the Arkenstone from you, Thorin?” You touched his arm, getting closer to him and he took a deep breath, it was hard to believe that anyone would do this, and why would Thorin believe this after everything all of you went through.

“BECAUSE WE CAN’T FIND IT.” His loud voice made you jump, he has never yelled at you before which scared quite a bit, you never felt that way with Thorin before, even he was a bit rougher with you in bed.

“Alright, I will leave you to it. I think you should spend some time by yourself.” That made Thorin anxious, he needed you near him, you were the only one he could so you leaving was not an option for him.

“No, no…I apologise.” Thorin apologised, it was as if a switch flipped inside him. “Please, stay with me, please allow me to hold my wife tonight.” He knelt in front of you, his forehead on your stomach and his big, strong hands holding your hips. “We shan’t talk about this anymore, I have my home back, I am king now and I want to be with my queen, to hold you, my sunshine.” Thorin was a proud dwarf, he never begged, not even to you, it pulled at your heartstrings.

“Alright, Thorin…let’s sleep and hopefully things will be better tomorrow.” He nodded his head and the two of you got ready for bed, not saying anything, it was clear as day that something was clearly wrong with Thorin but you had no idea what it was, ever since entering Erebor,  he has been…different.

The two of you got in bed quietly, this day and Thorin’s antics drained you completely. But Thorin was restless, he hadn't stopped grunting and moving around in bed which was rather distracting, he stopped moving all of the sudden and you thought that was the end of it. That was when you felt his lips on your back, his strong hand on your thighs, teasing you.

“What are you doing, Thorin?” Your legs were already opening for him, you could never resist your husband at all.

“I want to make love with my wife.” He turned you around manhandling you and he kissed you roughly, and you moaned into the kiss, hands moving to his luscious hair but then Thorin grabbed your wrists and put them on top of your head. “I want you to keep your hands on top of your head.” He grabbed a piece of fabric and binded your hands together.

“Alright, Thorin.” You nodded and his lips connected to your jawline down to your neck, you moan, his hand moves to your breasts against your nightgown, he was acting like a starved dwarf and you were his last meal, but you weren’t complaining but you wanted to touch him.

“Thorin, please.” Your voice was strained, he played with your nipples while he was biting your neck down to your shoulders, your senses were overwhelmed, Thorin was all over you and it didn't seem he was going to stop anytime soon.

“Fuck, I need you on all fours.” Before you could process his words, your husband turned you around and your ass was now in the air, your hands were still bound in front of you, so you used your elbows to balance yourself in bed. “How I missed your pussy, my love.” Thorin pulls your nightgown to your waist and without warning nor preparation enters you and you screamed in pleasure, his cock filled you up deliciously but you always needed time to adjust to his size.

“Thorin.” You were chanting his name like a prayer, his cock was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and you were dripping, Thorin put his finger on your clit and the circles were quick and small, the familiar knot on your stomach was growing, when pleasure took over your whole body, your toes curled and you screamed with the amount of pleasure but Thorin didn't stop, his thrusts were hard and deep with an incessant pace. “Thorin, please.” You couldn’t formulate any words, you could only hear his deep grunts and moans.

“Your pussy is so tight, wife.” Thorin pulled your hair in one of his hands and your back arched even more, his thrusts were getting even harder and pain and pleasure were getting hard to distinguish. “I’m close.” He grunted and without warning he spilled inside you, grunting and moaning, his seed warm inside you, being sensitive and all it was more noticeable how much Thorin spilled inside you. Thorin turned you over and removed the fabric from your wrists and kissed you, it was deep and rough but you didn't mind, you were spent.  “You did so well, sunshine.” He smiled and pulled you to his chest, it wasn’t long until the two of you were fast asleep, not even having time to clean the mess.

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

He was acting differently again, he was obsessed with finding the Arkenstone and was being rude to everyone, Bilbo the most and you the least. He spoke in riddles in regards to the Arkenstone, all of the gold, he wasn’t the same man you met in these same halls for the first time. You were outside, hearing Thorin yell out orders to the company, you had no idea what to do.

“Y/N.” You gasped when you saw Bilbo, he looked concerned due to the tears on your eyes. “Are you alright?” He sat down next to you, it seems that the two of you were the only ones noticing what’s going on so far, a kindred spirit of sorts.

“No, Mr. Baggins.” You look at him with a sad smile, all of your emotions were all over the place. “Thorin never treated me this way, ever since we lost Erebor…he has been trusting me in all matters, taking my advice into consideration even if he didn't take action, and now? He doesn’t even listen to me, I am at a loss.” You cried into his shoulders and he comforted you, Bilbo was the only one that understood you. “Please, not a word to Thorin…I don’t know what he would do if he found out about my doubts.” 

“Of course, I will never say a word.” The two of you smile at each other and look at the city of Dale, something is coming, you can feel it.

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

The elven army came and they were in Dale, they were about to attack but that’s when you saw Bard on his horse, perhaps a compromise can be achieved. He spoke of Smaug and also Thorin’s promise, and your husband touched on the army of elves, Bard asked for an audience and you urged Thorin to listen to him.

“If we can avoid war, we should consider it.” Whispering so only your husband could hear it, he nodded at you and went down to speak with Bard, you didn't follow him since you thought that would anger Thorin.

You heard Thorin’s screams, talking about being a beggar to the Lake-Town people, and how had no choice but to beg to reclaim his birthright. Thorin demanded the elven army to leave, and with that Bard left and no resolution was agreed upon. You took a deep breath, Thorin would get into a war rather than share Erebor’s riches.

Now the company was getting ready for war, Thorin looked so handsome in his armour but you didn't want this at all, you wished he would listen to you. You helped Thorin get into his armour, Fili and Kili were close to the two of you, and you were close to them, you helped Dis give birth to them, you loved them so much.

“Thorin, I must speak with you.” You whispered to him and he followed you to a small hallway, he was close to you. “Please, Thorin. There  must be another way, we have reclaimed Erebor, you are the king under the mountain, must we have war with the elves?” Pleading to him with tears in your eyes but he wasn’t listening to you, he was looking at your body, his hands found themselves in your waist. “Thorin.” You meekly protested but you couldn’t deny the fact you loved his hands on you.

“Once we defeat the elven lord, we shall make an heir, relieve Fili and Kili of the burden of being my heirs, and continue the line of Durin.” Thorin kissed your neck rather roughly and your eyes rolled at the back of your head but you needed to concentrate, you had a feeling he was trying to distract you.

“Then stop this nonsense, allow us to live in peace to raise our children and for you to rule, my love.” Thorin grunted, but he didn't speak against your statement, you might be getting through him, you touch his cheek softly. “Allow your beard to grow in your prosperous reign, my king.” Your husband closed his eyes, thinking about the future, your children running around Erebor, sitting on his lap whilst he was on the throne, pulling on his beard. Thorin spoke once that his beard will only grow after reclaiming the mountain and that he did, he did the impossible but he’s not allowing himself to settle down, still the young prince trying to find a home in the blue mountains.

“I only want the best for our family, my sunshine.” He kissed you and left you to finish getting ready, why was he doing this? How you wished he was still the same Thorin he was before.

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

All of the company was at the top of the mountain, and there was Bard and King Thranduil, Thorin put you behind him and he got the bow and arrow and got the elvenking to stop in his tracks, he saw you and smirked.

“There it is the little human that was found in my realm.” Thorin was visibly angry, both Bard and Thranduil looking at you. “Please, put some sense into your thick headed husband. War can be avoided if he allows his debt to be paid.” You could feel Thorin’s anger radiating through his body, you thought that you were getting through to him, much to your disappointment, you were not.

Insults were hurled, the Arkenstone showed up and Thorin almost killed the hobbit but only one thing was certain, war was inevitable. This was a nightmare, then Dain and his Iron Islands army arrived, but in the middle of all of this Thorin pulled you rather forcefully to a room, a room that was filled with gold, he locked the door and marched towards you.

“Did you enjoy yourself out there?” He barked, you’ve never seen Thorin so angry.

“My love, whatever do you speak of?” You were left utterly confused but that only seemed to enrage your husband even more.

“Do not play coy with me, I have seen the way they ogled you.” His nose touched yours, you felt his breathing on your face. “MY WIFE.” Thorin yelled out, you decided not to react and afraid to admit the fact that you enjoyed your husband this way, so possessive of you.

“Thorin, stop saying this…” He didn't let you finish your sentence.

“Did you enjoy it?” He holds you in place, you feel his rings on your skin. “Did you enjoy a man and an elf ogling you? Do you enjoy being desired by them, tell me.” Thorin looked like a predator, he walked and you stepped back, falling onto the gold your husband hoarded in this room. It was extremely uncomfortable but at this moment, you only cared about how much anger Thorin had and how it turned you on.

“Thorin, please.” You had no idea what you were begging for, Thorin smirks, he loves the power he had over you.

“I will have you on top of my wealth, and you will give me a son, an heir to continue the line of Durin.” The dwarf ripped your clothing off your body, which made you gasp, his rough hands, warrior hands go to your breasts, making you moan wantonly. “My queen moans like a common whore.” Thorin slapped your breasts and you yell out, the pain and pleasure merging as one.

“Thorin, please.” You spoke with a ragged breath, touching him, making him remove his clothing. “I need you inside me, my king.” That made Thorin’s dick twitch, you referring to him with his title in such a desperate way was powerful to him.

“Do you, now?” His hand grabs your face and he kisses you roughly, it was all teeth and tongue and you loved it, moaning into the kiss. “Tell me that you are mine.” Despite the wanton lust you were under, you knew what he was feeling, insecurity and that would not do at all.

“You are the only one for me, my king. I am yours, Thorin. Forever.” Speaking in such earnestness brought a wave of emotions into your husband’s heart, he loved you so much and the fact that you were half human, he often worried that you would leave him, you were his One, there’s no way he’d survive you leaving him. “I love you, Thorin Oakenshield.” He kisses you again, this time slower, more passionate, full of love.

You could feel Thorin’s hard cock on your thighs, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he grinded against your pussy. Thorin starts kissing your neck, down to your collarbone and your hands going to his long hair.

“Thorin, don’t make me wait, fuck me.” Hurriedly he enters your pussy, you are obscenely wet, and both you and Thorin groan, he bites into your shoulder and his pace is unforgiving, you feel the hardness of the golden coins but you didn't care, his cock was hitting your favourite spot inside you. “Thorin, fuck.” Your moans were travelling around the room, but you didn't care who heard you, the only thing you cared about was cumming on Thorin’s cock.

“I will put a son in your womb, my queen.” You clench around his cock and Thorin chuckles. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? To swell with my child?” The noise that he makes with his thrusts with the gold was distracting but Thorin could see that you were close and he was too. “You will look so pretty walking around with my son in your womb in the halls of Erebor.” With that, you came on his cock with a scream and Thorin followed you shortly, you felt his seed inside you. 

After a few minutes Thorin removed his cock from inside you and you felt empty, but Thorin grabbed you and took you to bed, you were extremely tired and sore due to the golden coins.

“Rest, my love. I will be here with you when you wake up, I love you.” He kissed your forehead and you fell asleep on your husband’s chest.

[faeriichaii]

Hi! I am hoping you still do requests, if not feel free to ignore this (please tell me if you can’t do it by messaging me so I know) Its a platonic fic idea, mostly fluff but with an overwhelming amount of angst, it’s a father Thorin (The Hobbit) with a daughter reader (if it’s not an issue and for less confusion I would like the reader to be a “Dwelf” half Dwarf half Elf)

Basically Thorin’s story (and pov) of raising his daughter as a single father. Seeing the reader grow from an infant into a child, and from a child to a young teen, and from a teen to a strong woman. Teaching her all she needs to know and being there for her during her happy moments and her sad moments.

He takes her to adventure with him to reclaim Erebor, seeing her fight with the skills he taught her, and of course to his absolute dismay watching her fall in love with Legolas and (With Thorin trying his best to stop it) him falling for her as soon as they meet in Mirkwood’s dungeons. As the adventure continues Thorin starts realizing the the chances of the reader having an immortal elf life style while he stays mortal. During his moments with Dragon Sickness he becomes possessive of the reader bc she is his greatest treasure. And during his final moments he isn’t sad at all because his daughter is right there with him, and all he can think of is all of the memories they shared from her infant days to now. And now is looking forward to seeing how her future will play out once he’s gone.

Sorry it’s long. It’s sad but I have so much love for Thorin because he reminds me so much of my father and seeing him get killed made me cry so hard bc my father also died not to long ago.

Fading Light ~ Thorin x Daughter!Reader

A/N: Omg I am SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!!! A lot happened in my life and I have been working on and off on the fanfic but IT IS FINALLY FINISHED!!! I really hope you like it <3 I also struggled so hard with certain scenes so yeah hahaha... Anyway, enjoy it!! Also I did like math to make the years and timeline make sense yk?? So yeah I put 110% effort into it!! And also 35 years for her is like 12/13?? I think?? Maybe a bit younger but I just thought I'd mention it in case there are questions hihihi

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Angst, a bit fluff, dad and daughter, bit Legolas x Reader ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 10.4k (my longest so far omfg) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: yes thank you <3 ࿐ྂ

Summary: Thorin and you, his daughter on your journey to Erebor. And also the journey of him as a single father watching his princess grow up.

~300 Years prior~ Soft laughter bounced across the walls of his bedroom, as Thorin, son of Thráin and grandson of Thrór, looked down. In his arm he held an abundance of different furs and fabrics. Hidden within them lay a small infant. Her eyes shone like the very diamonds within the halls as she saw her father standing over her. Looking out for her. Tiny hands wriggled free from the warm depth of the blankets and tried to grab for his hair, however, Thorin instead let her hold on to his finger. She giggled as she pulled his hand further towards her. A smile graced his lips, as he cradled his daughter gently. “Aren’t you the most precious gem in all of Erebor?” His question was answered by a yawn from his daughter. Laying her down in her small wooden cradle, he stayed at her side for a few more minutes. “You are the only light in my life (Y/N).”

~285 Years prior~ “Daddy, look what I found!” Thorins eyes moved from the scroll on the table towards his daughter. Her long hair was braided into two pigtails, showcasing her pointy elvish ears. Hanging between her small fingers was a beautiful pearl necklace. “Where did you find this (Y/N)? I thought you were playing with Kili, Fili and your dolls?” His eyebrow raised in question, as the small girl suddenly hid the necklace from his sight. Her eyes were downcast, only showcasing her painfully obvious guilty expression even more. “Did they take you to the treasure room again?” A soft yes fell from her lips.

“Please don’t be angry daddy…” Thorin stood up from his chair and approached his daughter. Kneeling down, he put both his hands on her small shoulders. “I could never be angry with you princess. But next time you explore around the castle with your cousins, make sure to let me know, ok?” Her face lit up at the realisation that she in fact did not get herself or Kili and Fili into trouble. “I will daddy! I saw a biiiiiig crown for you.” And with those parting words his daughter ran towards the door, threw it open and squeezed past her cousins to find the crown she saw earlier.

“Soooo I guess we are off the hook as well?” Fili asks carefully. “Don’t let this happen again. At least let me know before you drag her into your crazy ideas.” “We just thought she might want to see a little bit more of her dwarvish side you know?” Kili joined his brothers side, playing with a coin he probably got from the treasure room. “After all she is only half-“ “Don’t say another word.” Thorins voice was laced with anger and hurt. “She is a dwarf and ONLY a dwarf. Nothing more and nothing less. And currently she is roaming the castle ALONE while you were in charge of taking care of her.“ „You are right uncle. Next time we will take her around to explore the castle, we will let you know in advance.“ Fili gave his brother a shove into the direction of the open doors before deciding to search for their little cousin.

~280 Years prior~ Thorin watched his daughter from a short distance, discussing some matters about mining with his father and grandfather. Thrór looked at the little girl and shook his head. „I still can‘t believe that you let this happen Thorin.“ The mentioned dwarf raised an eyebrow at the king. „What exactly do you mean by that?“ „Well, you let yourself get charmed by an elf and not only that but you let her leave you alone with a child. This child is not even completely a dwarf. Where is her beard? Instead she has pointy ears… She has too much from her mother.“ Thorins expression darkened at the hurtful words of his grandfather. „She is no elf. She might not look like a dwarf and might not be able to grow a beard like we do, however she will be raised as one of us and she is still my daughter. And she is still your great-granddaughter.“ Suddenly a scream disturbed their banter and as Thorin looked back at his daughter, he saw her trying to sit up.

Rushing towards her, he slowly helped her up and gave her a quick lookover. „Are you okay princess?“ She sniffled, wiped the dirt from her hands, as well as from her knees and looked at her father. „Daddy! Something bad happened! This frog ate the butterfly!“ A sigh of relief left his lips at the harmless declaration. „Please don‘t scare daddy like this ever again, okay sweetheart? I thought something bad happened to you.“ „I‘m sorry…“ After her apology she rushed over to her grandfather. „Grandfather, look! I picked you a flower!.“ Thráin smiled at the child in front of him, before taking the small flower from her hands. „It looks very beautiful. Thank you so much (Y/N).“ She smiled brightly at him, before holding another flower toward her great-grandfather. „I also got you one.“ He stared at the plant for a few seconds, before taking it from her without saying a word. She tilted her head to the side in confusion, after getting brushed off so carelessly. „So, Thorin. How are things going with the trading contract?“ 

~265 Years prior~ „You have to raise your elbow a bit higher to properly shoot an arrow (Y/N).“ Kili said, as he helped her adjust her posture. An annoyed sigh escaped her lips. „Can‘t we take like a short break?“ „If you can shoot something else than the ground around us, than sure.“ Taking an arrow from the quiver, which is slung across her back, she began to align it with her bow. Pulling the string all the way back, she gave Kili a quick glance before letting go and watching it fly through the air. The arrow didn’t hit the target, but instead hit the tree behind it.

„That was good! See for your first lesson in archery you are doing just fine!“ „You really think so?“ She excitedly asked her cousin, while slinging the bow across her back. „Definitely. Thorin will be so proud to hear that you won‘t just fight with swords and daggers, but also with arrows and bows.“ „About that… Could you maybe keep it a secret? He barely allowed me to hold a sword so if he finds out I am now also trying to get into archery…“ Her gaze was pleading, as she begged Kili to keep this between them. „I don‘t understand why he is so careful? I learned how to wield a sword when I was 10! And you are already 35 so why waste more time?“

His words echoed through her head. Why would her father be so against her being able to fight? Isn‘t it normal for a dwarf to be learning weaponry so early on in their life? „Hey Kili, do you think it is because I am different?“ The question made him stumble. „What? Never! He always made sure that you would not think that way. You are a dwarf.“ „Only half a dwarf though. I am also partly elf, don‘t forget that.“ This was also the reason why she was already a bit taller than most of her family members. Even though she was only 35 years old. Barely a teenager.

A smile graced her lips, as she leaned towards Kili. „You know, I found a book in the library about elvish customs. That‘s why I also tried a new hairstyle today.“ She spun around, to showcase him the flowers in her elvish braided hair. „They do braiding a little differently, than we do. They also don‘t use the beads we use, which honestly is really a big loss.“ „Never would I have thought that you would start looking into your elvish side.“ He laughed while giving her a gentle shove with his shoulder. „Of course! I mean I had to find out why I am the only one in the whole castle who won‘t grow a beard?“

„So how did shooting arrows go?“ Thorins voice made the two turn around in an instant. „Fili was quite surprised, knowing that I didn‘t know about your plans.“ She knew she should have told him. In the beginning the whole learning archery thing was just a joke between the three of you. Until she read the elvish book and saw a handsome elf man hold up an arrow with pride. Maybe, thought it would help her enjoy her elvish side a little bit more. „I am sorry father. I just thought I would try it out you know? All the other kids are already swinging axes around and braiding beards.“ She pouted at her father, as he took the bow and arrows from her. „You will learn how to properly fight soon enough, but you are still young. Go play with your toys while I discuss something with Kili, won‘t you.“ „Father, toys are for little kids and I am not a little kid anymore!“ „And you are still not an adult now, are you?“ Grumbling softly under her breath, she stormed off towards the castle.

~250 Years Prior~ „Do you really think it is a good idea (Y/N)?“ „Of course it is Kunri, don‘t worry too much. You just need to keep quiet, or else my father will find us.“ Her hand was wrapped around his wrist, pulling him along towards one of the towers. Their plan was to look up at the stars that were scattered across the sky. And maybe, just maybe kiss. It was the perfect idea and the perfect plan. Kunri was also the perfect dwarf in her mind. He was super sweet and kind. And his beard was always so well kept and braided. He also once complimented her hair, even though it wasn‘t braided in the typical dwarvish style. „We are almost there Kunri, I promise you, you will like the view.“ „But what if we get caught?“ The worry in his voice made her stop in her tracks and turn around. Facing him, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. „Nothing will happen and nobody will find us. The two of us will just watch some stars from the tower that‘s it.“ She gently smiled at him, before turning back around and continue on her way up the stairs. Kunri let out a sigh before following after her.

At the top of the stairs, she helped her companion up before watching his face glow up in delight. „Wow the stars are even brighter from up here!“ His hands were holding onto the stone railing while his gaze was focused on the shining lights above. „I always come up here if I need a moment from all the hectic princess lifestyle.“ She said, making herself comfortable beside the dwarf. Her heart began to hammer, as their arms grazed against each others for a split second. „Kunri I-„ „Do you think Touk would like it here?“ He accidentally cut her off. „What?“ She stammered, doubting herself and the words she just heard from her crush. „Ahh I just thought that… you know… I would like to present Touk a bead and I thought this place might be perfect you know?“ Her mouth formed a silent ‘o‘ at the statement. She didn‘t knew that he liked Touk. She always expected him to like her back. Why else would he spend so much time with her? Why else would he be willing to touch her hair? „I never knew you like Touk in that kind of way.“ She whispered, trying to mask the pain in her voice the best she could.

„I never told you? I‘m sorry, I thought I mentioned it a few times. Well, him and I, we just started thinking that we might be each others Ones you know?“ Biting down on her lip, she nodded at Kunris words. „Of course. I bet he would love it up here.“ She quickly wiped away the tear that fell from her eyes and stood up. „Well, I think we probably should be going now.“ „But we just arrived here?“ „Yes, but my father, you know he actually really loves this place and I don‘t think you want to be caught by him while the two of us are up here, in a romantic setting, alone.“ The desperation in her voice to leave this godforsaken tower made Kunri immediately take the first few steps down into the castle. Nobody talked and the only sound echoing off of the tight staircase were their feet hitting step after step. As soon as the both of them arrived at the bottom, she waved him goodbye and made her way back to her chambers. Her heart hammered in her chest, as the feeling of rejection rushed through her body. Tears began streaming down her face even before she arrived at her door. Throwing herself onto the bed, she let her emotions flow. Her heart began to ache at the lack of reciprocation for her feelings. Why couldn‘t she be his One? Why was it Touk? They didn‘t even look that cute together.

A knock was heard on the door. „Please leave, I am not in the mood right now.“ She said inbetween sobs. The door opened nonetheless. She turned around, so the intruder would only see her back and not her tear stained face. „Princess, what happened? Are you in pain?“ Thorins voice rang in her ears. He was the last person she wanted to see right now. „Father I am sorry but please just leave me alone.“ He took a step towards the bed. „You know I could help you with anything that is on your mind.“ „I don‘t need any advice or any help right now. I just want to be left alone.“ She pulled her blanket over her head to drown out his presence, as well as her thoughts. „Let me know if you need anything. Or when you are ready to talk about it.“ With those parting words and a heavy heart, he left his daughters room.

~200 Years Prior~ Sweat dripped down her forehead, as she wielded the sword against her opponent. Fili had an easy smile on his face as he beckoned her forward with his fingers. “Come on, is this all you got? I thought we trained you better.” An angry huff left her lips. Her stance shifted; her grip tightened around the sword as she rushed towards her cousin. The sound of metal hitting metal mixed with their grunts. Her hair flying from side to side while focussing on her target. His sword was aiming for her right side. Sidestepping him, she quickly dove for his neck. But before her sword could graze him, he kicked her in the shins. Taking a few steps back, she looked at him angrily. “That was so foul of you.” “Do you think the enemy would care?” Fili smirked down at her. A growl left her lips, before she advanced once more toward him. It didn’t take much for him to dodge her attacks. Suddenly her sword flew from her hands and landed a few meters away in the grass. “What are you going to do now (Y/N)? Surrender?” His mocking voice set her ablaze.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself down and focused once more on her sparring partner. She hated it when either him or Kili won against her. They would nonstop tease her about it and she wouldn’t even hear the end of it. She rushed towards him for the third time, fists ready to strike. Seeing her, he readied his sword to take her down. Suddenly she shifted to the right, unsheathed a dagger from within her sleeve and struck him across the cheek. Surprise was evident on Filis face as his cousin quickly moved behind him. Her hand stealthily grabbing his wrist and twisting it so he would let go of the sword. Kicking him behind the knees, he buckled forward, arms behind his back and dagger at his neck. “And that is how you actually win a battle.” She whispered in his ears.

Clapping could be heard, behind them. “I really hope you never turn on your father.” She let go of Fili, before turning around and greeting Thorin. “I told you, I would best them both at some point.” A smile was on her lips, as she stood beside her father, watching her cousin stand up from the ground. “But will you best me?” Her head quickly pivoted to the dwarf beside her. He unsheathed his sword and took a few steps back from his daughter. “Show me what you have learned.” A smirk formed on her lips, before she walked over to where her sword lay in the grass. Spinning it around a few times she got into her fighting stance. They circled each other for a few seconds, before Thorin advanced towards her quickly. She barely got enough time to dodge the sword splitting her half. The strength of his blow shoved her back a few steps. Her surprised gaze lingered on her father. He barely gave her a second to calm down after the attack before diving right towards her once more. This time he aimed for her side. Dodging it she spun around, so she was behind him. Her sword was up, ready to take him down. Suddenly she felt a punch in her gut. Stumbling to the ground, she held her stomach. The tip of the sword was at her throat.

“Are you alright?” He asked her, making sure he didn’t hit her too hard. Holding out his hand, he helped his daughter up. “I didn’t expect you to be so…” “Brutal? Lethal? Violent?” Fili said, while standing behind his uncle. “Yeah…” “The enemy doesn’t care if you are a woman or my daughter.” She let her fathers’ words sink in. “From now on, you won’t just train with Kili and Fili but with me as well.” A soft hum of approval passed her lips. Wiping off the dirt from her pants and readjusting her stance, as well as the grip on her weapon, she readied herself for another round of sparring with her father.

~171 Years Prior~ Smoke was filling her lungs, as she run alongside her father. The dragon Smaug was infiltrating the castle and they were trying to fight back as much as possible. “Find as many as you can and evacuate them!” “But what about you?” Rubble fell around them as the ground beneath them shook. “I will find Thrór and take care of the situation inside the throne room.” Thorin said, unsheathing his sword and pushing through the dwarves who are frantically running around. The thought of following her father came to mind, but she quickly chose against it. Her job was to evacuate as many people as she possibly could. So she rushed into the opposite direction of her father. “You have to leave as fast as you can! Leave while you can! Run towards safety!” She screamed while passing through various hallways. “Leave Erebor! Leave! Run towards safety!”

 Sweat was dripping down her forehead, as she turned corner after corner, ushering out as many dwarves as she could. „(Y/N)! Have you checked the dining hall?“ Dwalin had his axe in his hand, ready to take out the beast if it passed him. „Not yet, but I was on my way there.“ „I will go into the direction of the courtyard. I‘ll keep them safe out there.“ She nodded at his words and took off into the mentioned direction. Throwing open the massive wooden doors, she immediately began to usher all of the stumbling dwarves outside. „Leave through the main gate immediately! If you can, travel into the direction of the Caves of Aglarond!“ Most of them listened to her words. Checking the room once more, she picked up an injured dwarf. „It will be faster this way.“ She muttered, as she carried the woman in her arms. Finally outside, she took a deep breath of fresh air before searching for her father and grandfathers. Spotting them in the distance, she began to approach them. Thorin immediately rushed to her and took her in his arms. „Are you alright? Did you get hurt?“ He held her at arms length and scanned her body for any wounds. „Father, don‘t worry I am fine.“ A gentle smile graced her lips for a split second, before disappearing once more as realisation dawned upon her. Her home was destroyed. The dragon infiltrated the castle and made it its own. „What are we supposed to do now?“ „We will travel towards Rohan and seek shelter.“ Casting Erebor one last look, they began their travels towards Rohan. Towards the Caves of Aglarond. Far away from home.

~1 Year Prior~ „Who is this last person that is going to join us on our way to Erebor?“ She asked her father, who was walking alongside her. „I don‘t know. Gandalf told me he knew just the right person for the job.“ A hum left her lips at his answer. Over 100 years have passed since Erebor got violently invaded by the dragon Smaug. And so many things have changed. Thorin and his daughter have been traveling far and wide passing through various towns and villages. Finding work was hard. People barely accepted Thorin among them but his daughter? They wouldn‘t even look at her. Until she could prove that she was just as good (and often even better) than most of their employees. Especially, when it came to forging weapons. Her keen eye for detail made each and every single piece a one of a kind, which were then sold at a insanely high price. 

A small village was forming on the horizon. „Do you think we will make it before the others eat our portion of the dinner?“ She jokingly asked Thorin, shoving him with her elbow. „I doubt it, if Dwalin and Bombur arrive before us.“ A soft laugh escaped her lips. Never would she have thought that the day would come where all of them would go on an adventure to return to Erebor. To reclaim Erebor as their mountain. As their home. It made her heart fill with warmth. „I can‘t wait to see them all again. Especially Kili and Fili! Do you remember, when we stole great grandpapas crown? You even watched the three of us retreat with our treasure!“ „How could I forget? After your little thievery, he yelled around the whole throne room and even accused me of stealing it.“ „Did you ever tell him that it was us?“ She asked him curiously. „Not you. Just Kili and Fili.“ A gasp fell from her lips at his words. „So that is why they were so mean to me during practice!“ 

The sun was already down, when they arrived in the small village. Only the lights of the lamps alongside the path illuminated Bag End. It was a strange new place. Most of the town was covered by various different hills that were various different sizes. From small ones, to big ones. However, all of them had round doors and matching round windows, to indicate that these were no normal dirt hills. These were someone’s homes. Stopping in front of a door, Thorin knocked on the wood. Rustling and grumbling, as well as cheering and singing could be heard from inside. „Sounds like everyone else is already inside.“ Thorin mumbled from beside her. She leaned down towards the window and tried to peep inside, however she couldn‘t make out much. Suddenly the door flung open and inside stood a angry looking hobbit. A sigh left his lips, before he took a step to the side. „Welcome, please come inside. Your companions are already waiting.“ Smiling down at him, she followed inside after her father.

Most weapons, bags and coats were flung carelessly onto the ground. Placing her bow and quiver beside the pile of swords, she hung her coat onto the coatrack, before turning towards the host. „Thank you so much for hosting our departure dinner Mr….“ „Baggins, Bilbo Baggins. Here at your service.“ She smiled brightly at him. „Thank you Mr. Baggins.“ Her posture was a bit crouched, due to the fact that the chandelier almost hit her in the face. The sound of laughter grew louder the closer they got towards the dining area. „Ahh (Y/N)! And of course the king himself, Thorin Oakenshield.“ Gandalf greeted them both, ducking under the chandelier in order to get closer to Thorin. Scooting past the wizard, she sat down beside Fili. „Finally you arrived! Now we can begin with the proper festivities.“ He said, shovelling some food onto his plate. The warmth of the wonderful company filled her heart with glee and excitement. She knew that the journey just began, but deep down she also knew that no matter what happens, they will get back to Erebor and they will slay the dragon. 

~10 Months Prior~ „I do not wish to be in the presence of these elves.“ Thorin grumbled, trying to decline Gandalfs idea. „You are in dire need of a proper shelter and you know that Rivendell is close by. Also Elrond might help us get some insight about-„ „I do not wish to seek his help.“ She knew why her father was so incredibly opposed to visit Rivendell. Even though Lord Elrond never did anything to awaken Thorins wrath. At least not personally. She has noticed king Thranduil at the edge of the forest herself. Seen how he majestically sat atop of his elk. And declined to help them fight against Smaug. Her heart ached that night. Having lost not only her home but also one of Erebors strongest alliances.

„Father, Lord Elrond wasn‘t the one to ignore our call for help. So please, give him a chance. He might now how we could open the hidden door.“ Her pleading softened his tough facade. A sigh escaped his lips, as he looked forward. „We will only stay one night. None more.“ „Wonderful! Than let‘s change course towards Rivendell.“ Gandalf gave her a nod as a sign of thanks, before departing from the two of them. „I did not knew that you saw the king that day as well.“ Thorins brows were furrowed as the memory of this dreadful time resurfaced. „I spotted them when they turned around to leave us behind.“ Her hand landed on his shoulder, a gentle reminder that both of them survived the attack. „But this does not mean that I have a grudge against them.“ 

A gentle smile formed on his lips. „You will be a wonderful queen one day.“

She looked down at him, flabbergasted at his words. Never had she thought that at some point she will become a queen. Neither did she ever think about the fact that there might be a time when she will rule the kingdom. „A queen?“ „Of course. You are my daughter after all and you will inherit everything.“ Silence fell between them, as she thought about her fathers words. „What is it like to be a king? Is it hard?“ „I sadly did not get the chance to properly rule over Erebor yet, but this power comes with a great deal of responsibility. You need to make sure your kingdom works. This means that the people, who live inside your kingdom have little to complain about the way you rule over them. You need to take care of them. Think about what is best for everyone, not just one singular person.“ She nodded at his words, making sure to note everything mentally down. Just in case she really does become a queen.

„There are rulers, who have a heart made out of ice and are soulless. Creatures, who do not care about their lands. About their kingdom. All they want is the power that royalty gets them. But there are also kings and queens who rule with the warmth of their heart. That put their people first and themselves last. You yourself need to decide what type of queen you will be.“ „Father, will you be there for me and teach me when the time comes?“ Thorin stopped in his tracks at his daughters question. Taking her hands in his he looked up at her. Her pointed ears and her slightly taller frame are the only things that distinguish her from being a full dwarf. That and the lack of a beard. But suddenly a dreadful thought slithered into his head. Would he really be able to teach her? Will he be able to stay by her side until then? He is after all a mortal and will die at some point in his life, but his daughter?

A small smile graced his lips, as he gave her hands a gentle squeeze. „Of course I will. You will be the best queen Erebor will ever see.“ She gave him a hug at his reassuring words, before they continued on on their way to Rivendell.

Hours passed and they finally arrived at their destination for the night. Taking everything in, she gasped at the marvellous beauty that was Rivendell. The trees were beautiful. The architecture was breathtaking. And the people? Beautiful. Never had she seen such beautiful clothes and dainty jewellery. She loved the gems and jewels that lay deep in the treasure cove of Erebor, but these? They were breathtaking. „Please, welcome to Rivendell. You shall be escorted to your rooms. Clean yourselves and as soon as you will be ready dinner will be served.“ The words of Lord Elrond brought her back into reality. An elf stood in front of her. A woman who’s beauty rivalled with the flowers in the lushes garden. She was taller than her and her ears pointier. A real elf, not just an half elf like herself. Following the woman down a corridor, they stopped at a wooden door. „The bath is ready for you princess and a gown was prepared for you as a welcome present. If you need anything else, please call for my aid.“ And with those parting words the maid left her alone in front of the door. Turning the knob, she stepped through the wooden door. A gasp left her lips at the room. Windows that went from the floor to the top of the ceiling let in the warm sunlight and gave the room a golden glow. The bed looked like it was stolen from the sky above. Like the softest cloud she had ever laid her eyes upon. And the dress on top of it. A long dark green gown with beautiful golden vines sown into it. Oh she could not wait to get ready. 

Setting her weapons, as well as her cape down into a corner of the room, she immediately headed for the bathroom. She was craving a warm bath, having already forgotten what warm water even felt like on her body. During her travels with her father they mostly had to house at inns and various different locations that did not offer the luxury of warm water. Throwing her clothes off, she let her foot sink into the water. The warmth immediately engulfed her and a satisfied hiss left her lips. Her aching muscles finally got time to relax. She did not ever want to step out of there. Closing her eyes, she let her body sink even further into the liquid. Is this what the heavens feel like? Is this eternal happiness? After enough time passed she had to abandon the waters and step into the dress. The fabric of the gown was soft to the touch and she let out a gentle giggle as she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked like a real fairytale princess. Leaving the room, she headed for the dinner hall.

Thorin could not believe his eyes as he saw his daughter enter the room. She fully looked like her mother in this moment. Like a real elf. Like she belonged here. „You look beautiful my little princess.“ He said, a smile on his lips. „Thank you father.“ Bowing her head, she stood beside him, looking over Rivendell. „So you are princess (Y/N). Welcome to Rivendell.“ „Thank you Lord Elrond. I have read quite a few books about it but no words do this beautiful lands justice.“ A smile formed on the elf’s lips at her phrase. „It indeed is breathtaking isn‘t it? I remember when your mother first stepped into the castle. She was astonished as you were.“ She blinked at his words. „You have met my mother?“ „Of course. But this is not the time to be discussing these things I assume?“ Elronds gaze moved from her to Thorin, his glare cutting through the topic. „Maybe another time.“ Her voice so quite, it was almost inaudible. This was the first time she was inside of Rivendell and the first time she met Lord Elrond. And he knew her mother? Her mother was often a topic that was avoided by her father. He didn‘t despise talking about her. Quite the opposite. He loved her so incredibly much that it pained him to the core to talk about her. Because talking about her reminded him of her not being around. Not having witnessed his daughter grow up. So she always tried her best to bring up her mother as little as possible. To not hurt her grieving father even more. Sometimes during really tough times, she considered that he might be happier if her mother would still be around instead of her. But these thoughts were quickly diminished when he would knock on her door, a fresh batch of cookies in his hand and a beaming smile on his face.

„I will leave you to your important meeting now.“ She said, bowing slightly to Lord Elrond, before joining the others on the long dinner table. Their faces were filled with disappointment and disgust as they inspected the lettuce on their plates. One would think that there was no food on their plates but disgusting cockroaches spiked on some picks. Sitting beside Balin, she looked down onto her plate. „Why this sour reaction? This food doesn‘t look that bad.“ „Well it is- Wow.“ Balin stopped in the middle of his sentence as he gave her a once over. „You are the spitting image of your mother.“ A blush formed on her cheeks at the heartfelt compliment. She saw some beautiful paintings of her mother and she always wished to be just like her. „Thank you.“ Eating her dinner, she listened to the soft violins that played soft background music. „You look more like an elf now. It‘s almost like your dwarf packed its bags and left.“ Kili suddenly said from opposite of her. „Hahaha I can barely contain my laughter.“ She sarcastically answered. „You would wish I would pack my things and leave you behind, but who else would kick your butt during sparring sessions?“ „Hey! Just because you beat me last time, doesn‘t mean that you will beat me all the time.“ A laugh escaped her lips at her cousins defiance. 

Sadly the dinner passed all too quickly and soon enough she found herself inside her room once more. Her nightgown, a white long dress, gently swayed around her legs, as she gazed at the stars high above. The night was tranquil and it felt like an eternity that she felt this peaceful. It was almost as if everything was alright. As if she wasn‘t on a journey to find an enormous beast and get back the lonely mountain. Is this what it will be like after she returns home?

~5 Months Prior~ „He said we only need to follow the path so this is what we will be doing.“ Thorins voice echoed in her head, as she gazed at her companions that completely abandoned the aforementioned path. „This is not right, come back!“ Following them deeper into the forest, a shiver went down her spine. The light didn‘t properly reach this part and it was quite eerie. Except for the dwarves who kept on talking and babbling some nonsense. This was madness. They have to return to the… path? She turned around. Only tall trees and bushes were in her line of sight. Turning back around she saw that one dwarf was missing. Who was missing? Why was he missing? What even was she doing here? A scream from her right brought her back into reality. Immediately she unsheathed her sword and ripped Bilbo from the claws of the enormous spider. 

„What is going on? Why is my mind so hazy?“ The panic in her voice unsettled Bilbo. „I don‘t know, but what I do know is that there are more spiders coming.“ Getting surrounded by these beasts was not what Gandalf had in mind as he sent the company through the forest. Neither did she expect to find herself fighting against an eight legged monster. The metal of her sword clashed against the fangs that were ready to strike her down. Diving down she slashed through two of its legs, before piercing its body in the middle with her sword. Her mind was foggy, which made her stumble in her steps. The others were trying to hold back the spiders but it was no use. Suddenly arrows flew through the sky, hitting beast after beast. Not being able to comprehend what was happening she stood there, sword by her side. Elves had arrived to slay the spiders. Her eyes caught onto a blonde haired elf and she watched, as he slowly descended towards her. „What are you doing here?“ The stranger asked her. Her mouth opened and closed. No answer was able to pass her lips, as she took him in. His eyes were analysing her, as well as the dwarves behind her. His beautiful ocean blue eyes. And his beautiful blonde hair. It was partially braided, showcasing his pointed ears. His beautiful pink lushes pink lips. They seemed to move but no words would register in her mind. Did she become deaf after leaving the path? His hands grabbed her shoulders, turned her around and bound her wrists together. 

The moment her mind finally cleared up she found herself inside the Mirkwood palace. Bound by her wrists and all of them in a row. In front of King Thranduil. „I did not expect to see you wandering around my forest Thorin Oakenshield.“ He said, his voice laced with slight mockery. „Let us leave. Now.“ Thranduil raised an eyebrow at his request. „You trespass through my lands and do as you please. Why would I just let you leave now? You actually had luck that my son was on patrol. Else you would have gone mad and lost yourself to the forest.“ His head was held high as he let his gaze wander over each and everyone. „You even brought your daughter on your journey. That is quite a surprise. Considering you held her hostage most of her life in the mountain.“ „Don‘t you dare say another word about her.“ Her father shook in his shackles. The anger that was radiating off of him could heat up the entire castle. Thranduil made a move with his hands, almost as if he would dismiss the lot of them. „Please, enjoy your stay in the dungeon.“ Guards were escorting them, her being the last in the line. „Except for her. She shall stay in the castle a little while longer.“ At this Thorin began to thrash around. „Don‘t you dare-„ His voice was cut off as the door to the dungeons shut.

Her eyes widened as she realised that she was standing in the throne room of the Mirkwood castle. All alone. Tied up. „Tell me dear, what were you doing here.“ Staring at the king on his throne she swallowed hard and shook her head. „I shall not talk about it.“ Her gaze wandered over to his son, who was standing beside the throne. The beautiful man who is the whole reason she ended up here. „It is not every day that people wander through my woods. And even less that they wander off of the path. So I think you should definitely tell me.“ He suddenly stood up and walked towards her. His face only a few inches from his own. „Why did you decide to walk through Mirkwood and what is the goal of your journey?“ Suddenly the memories of the time as tragedy hit Erebor and Thranduil refused help resurfaced. „You did not help in our dire need of help. Why is that?“ A smirk formed on his lips at her question. „You dwarves got what you sowed. You were greedy and only the greediest get a visit from a dragon. And Smaug is one of the dragons for the most greedy souls.“ Her eyebrows furrowed at his words. „We just kept what was ours safe.“ „No you did not!“ His booming voice made her flinch. „You kept the thing I hold dear far far beneath your precious mountain and this is the price you had to pay. Not just for the diamonds but for the gold and silver that you hoard. One could have even easily mistaken you lot for dragons it it wasn‘t for your short statue and your beard.“ He took a quick look at her. „Except for you as a halfling. Neither fully dwarf, nor fully elf.“ She bit her lips at his words. The people in Erebor accepted her, adored her even. But even them would sometimes approach her with caution. Considering she was only half a dwarf. Different from them.

“Father, I think this is enough.” Thranduil stared at her for a few seconds longer, before retreating to his throne. “Legolas, please escort her back to her father.” Nodding at the request, the prince approached her. Grabbing her gently by her shoulders, he guided her towards the staircase that led to the imprisoned dwarves. “I apologize for my fathers words.” Legolas suddenly whispered, still leading her down the stone steps. “It is alright. Nothing I haven’t heard before.” She shrugged her shoulders. The words might not hurt as badly as the countless times before, but they still leave an unpleasant aftertaste. “Might I ask, how exactly did you end up in the middle of the forest?” “We never intended to leave the path, but one thing led to the other and now we seem to be stuck in your castle.” A hum left Legolas lips at her explanation. “You know, if you think about escaping then I would recommend doing so tonight. There are some festivities and preparations are currently taking place. Which means that most guards are not around in the dungeons. Or at least a lot less than normally.” She turned her head around to look at the man behind her, his words confusing her. “Why would you tell me this?” Suddenly her wrists were freed from the cold metal that bound them together. Turning around, she gave him a puzzled look. “I don’t think it is fair for you and your company to be held hostage.” Legolas smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling like diamonds. “Thank you so much.” She said, giving him a smile of her own before continuing on her way to the dungeons.

As the both of them arrived downstairs, Thorin immediately walked up to the bars. His eyes filled with anger at the close proximity of Legolas to his daughter. And the thought about what the king might have done to her. Opening the cell beside his, she was gently guided inside, the door falling shut behind her. The click of the key shutting her inside bounced off of the walls. Her hands grabbed the bars tightly. Legolas leaned towards her, his own hands just mere centimetres above her own. “Make sure to check your pockets at some point.” A soft nod from her indicated him that she understood the hint he gave her. “You have no need to get so cozy with my daughter now.” Thorin grumbled, having watched them the entire time. Lifting his hands up in surrender, the prince took a few steps away from the cell. “Of course. Enjoy your stay in Mirkwood.” And with these parting words he went back towards the throne room.

Time flew by as they were walking through the dark corridors, finding a way to get out of the castle unnoticed. Bilbo, for some unknown reason, did not get snatched by the guards and found himself standing in front of the locked-up cells. Without a key. Luckily Legolas seemed to want to help and slipped some copies of the keys into her pockets, which she of course quickly handed the hobbit.

“I was able to roam around a bit and found a wine cellar. I think the best option would be to get into the barrel and let them fall through the opening into the river below.” Nodding at the plan he just explained, each of the dwarves got comfortable inside one of the barrels. However, it was quickly noticed, that there weren’t enough barrels for everyone. “I can find another way out of the castle.” She quickly said, taking a step back from the company. “No. You should get inside. I will just follow you in some other way.” Thorin tried to argue but she just shook her head at his stubbornness. “No, they will catch you and you will be stuck here for eternity. We can’t risk that. I at least can blend into here. I am after all half-elf as well.” He thought about her argument for a few more seconds. Just as he was about to say something else, they heard footsteps approach. Shoving them into barrels and putting lids on top of them, she pulled the lever and watched each of them fall into the river below. The sound of people rushing towards the wine cellar made her duck behind a wall. Two guards walked through the door, arguing that they shouldn’t have left their spots. Their backs were turned towards her. Grabbing two glass bottles, she silently crouched towards them and hit each of them in the head. Both fell down with a loud thud. Quickly binding them she stripped one of them out of his uniform and put it on herself. It was a tad bit to big but it should still work. She should still pass as one of the Mirkwood guards.

Outside the cellars doors, there were guards rushing outside. One of them stopped in his tracks and gave her a once over. “What are you still doing here? The prisoners escaped! Go up there and make sure they don’t leave Mirkwood!” Nodding quickly at the order, she followed them outside. There she saw Legolas, trying to shoot down some Orks that for some reason seem to have found her and the company once more. Running after them she made sure to shoot arrows at anyone who seemed to attack the dwarfs. She heard Fili scream something at Kili, as the latter seemed to try and open the water flow, so they wouldn’t be stuck in Mirkwood anymore. That’s when an arrow landed in his thigh. “Kili!” She tried to run towards him, tried to help him. A Ork tried to approach him, but he was quickly taken care off by an arrow that flew from her bow. Reaching his side, she wrapped an arm around his back and half dragged and half carried him back to the barrel before it was swept away by the stream. Settling inside the small wooden compartment, her cousin let out a hiss of pain. “Are you alright?” Worry laced her words. She didn’t have a chance to examine the wound. “I will survive, don’t worry about it.” His voice wavered, as his mind still was focused on the gaping hole in his leg. Her arms tightened around him, making sure he won’t stumble out of the barrel. “Yes, we will take care of it, as soon as we arrive on land.” And with that they all let the river take them to their next destination.

~3 Months Prior~ He wouldn’t let her go. He constantly was by her side, making sure she was always around and in his reach 24/7. Making sure she is safe. And it drained her. She loved her father but ever since Kili almost died due to the poison in his system and the reconquest of Erebor he has been acting… differently. He was almost obsessed with her. “Father, I know you only mean well, but you have to let me go.” His eyes moved from the Arkenstone in his hand to his daughter. “Nonsense. There is no need for you to leave.” “But father, the people-“ “I don’t care about the people! Your safety is my priority and you shall not leave the castles grounds!” Anger bubbled up inside of her. “But what about Balin? What about Dwalin? What about all the other dwarves? War is about to happen outside and you are cooped up inside of this room, constantly staring at this stupid stone!”

“This is not a stupid stone!” His booming voice echoed through the halls. “This gem is the Arkenstone.“

Her eyes widened at his strange behaviour. She knew he was sick. She knew it was the stones fault that he behaved like an absolute lunatic. It happened to her great grandfather before. „Father, this is not like you at all!“ Thorins eyes narrowed on her, the gem set aside on the throne, as he walked up to her. „You will not leave this castle. Matter of fact, you will not even leave my side. You are my daughter and I will ensure your safety.“ He was quite shorter than her, however he was still intimidating. Especially under the influence of the dragon sickness. In the corner of her eye she noticed some movement. „I wish I could stay with you. I wish I could ease your mind, but this is not how we can save Erebor. I am sorry.“ She quickly ran away from the dwarf, far away from the throne and the king. Towards the door. Towards freedom. But she didn‘t make it far. Because Thorin snatched her wrist and snaked his arms around her body. Suffocating her in a hug. Keeping her close to him. Encasing her in his loving embrace. „You are my daughter (Y/N). Nothing will steal you away from me.“ What he did not see though, was her mouthing to Bilbo to grab the stone and make his quick escape, hoping this would turn her father back to the man he was before.

~2 Weeks Prior~ „I wish that we wouldn‘t have to go into battle.“ She said, looking up into the cloudy sky. The weather had been gloomy since days, almost as if even nature knew what was about to go down. „I agree. But sadly, it is not our choice to make.“ Legolas joined her side, leaning his arms on the castles stone walls that kept them safe. At least for now. „As if the dragon wasn‘t enough already, we have to fight against an army of orcs. It is so silly.“ She let out a pitiful laugh at the dire situation. The kingdom, just saved from the claws of a monster, faces another evil incoming. „Erebor will be saved. This battle will be won and the kingdom will be brought back to its former glory.“ The elf prince beside her smiled down at her, carefully grabbing her hand and letting his thumb reassuringly caress her skin. Heat bloomed on her cheeks at his gentle touch. „I appreciate your help Legolas. Yours and of course the help of your father.“ Her fingers tightened around his hand, squeezing it.

She was scared. War is just a few days away and who knows how long it will go on for? She just got back her home and her father finally found himself once more. No longer ill with the dragon sickness and now they all have to fight once more. For Erebor. When will it ever be enough? She let out a shaky breath. „What if we lose? What if Azog wins? What if we all will fall and-„ Her words were cut off. Her words were cut off due to a pair of lips on hers. A gentle kiss silenced her. A gentle kiss from Legolas silenced her. She barely registered what happened and he already pulled away. Her heart raced and her eyes took him in. His cheeks were tinted red and his eyes glistened with unsaid feelings. „We will not loose this war. We will not loose each other and we will win back your home.“ His reassuring words filled her with hope. "And afterward I will properly court you. In the dwarvish ways and in the elvish ways. In both ways." A gasp left her lips, as she registered what he just said. A bright smile graced her lips. "You might have to face another battle then. A battle even worse than the one that is about to hit Erebor. The battle with my father." Taking her hand, he brought it up to his lips and layed a gentle kiss on it. "I will make sure to ease the battle and get his blessing. For I will not let him stop my love for you." Her heart filled with warmth. Never did anybody ever say such things to her. Such lovely things. Such poetic lines. Her fingers traced gentle lines over his face, before pulling him down for another loving kiss.

Unbeknownst to her, Thorin watched the whole interaction through the window of his study. Anger bubbled inside the king, as his glare was set on the blonde-haired prince. But he also felt a pang in his chest. An ache in his heart. Legolas was an elf and so was his daughter. Even though she was only partly an elf, she still was one. The only thing that could kill her were wounds inflicted upon her. But not her age. She would live a long life, which he could not. His life was numbered. He was a mortal, like the men walking the earth or the hobbit who was their little thief. Meanwhile her lifespan was infinitely. „You might kill the prince with your eyes soon, Thorin Oakenshield.“ Gandalfs words cut through the dwarfs thoughts. „What is bothering you? Is it the love they have for each other? Or is it something else?” The wizard took a puff of his pipe. „It is neither of those and nothing of your concern.“ „Oh it might not be, but it could ease your mind to share your troubles with a friend.“„I am just worried. Worried like a father normally worries.“ Another puff of smoke left Gandalfs lips, as he thought about Thorins muttered words. „I think you do not need to worry. She is a capable young woman. She can handle herself perfectly fine.“ „I know. That is what I am worried about.“ The wizard let out a knowing chuckle. „Every daughter needs her father. No matter how old they are.“ A smile graced Thorins lips at the reassuring words. „I hope so.“

~10 Minutes Prior~ Blood. So much blood. And screams. But her mind was blank. She just saw both her cousins stabbed to death. Both their eyes wide open as their souls began to leave their bodies. Both their blood on her hands. But she had no time to mourn them. Even if it cut deep into her heart and sliced her apart. A cold reminder of the war surrounding her. She has to go help her father. Help him defeat Azog and finally end this nightmare. Her body felt numb, as she passed several orcs, slicing them down. Ending them. Killing them like they were killing her family. Her legs carried her further and further, her speed never faltering. Arrows flying from her bow into the orcs heads on the way. Finally she spotted her father at the top. He was wielding his sword against Azog in a heated battle. She had to help him. Stepping on the ice she stumbled a bit. How was Thorin managing to fight on it? Finding her balance, she watched Azog throw around his metallic chained up rock to smash Thorin into pieces but he always dodged his attacks. However, the ice underneath suffered tragically and began to break apart. This made her wobble and step back onto the grass.  The dwarf king and the orc stared at each other, clashing their weapons around until the sound of eagles echoed through the vast space. The sound of them approaching and flying above them distracted Azog long enough for Thorin to take his chances and throw the orcs own weapon into his hands. Stepping off of the small ice he watched, as his enemy fell into the cold water below.

The silence was deafening. Was it over? Was he finally defeated? She couldn’t believe it. Dropping her wooden bow on the ground she stared at her father, who was still miles away from her. Still on top of the frozen water. He smiled at her and she carefully began to take a step into his direction. But Thorin suddenly held out his hand, gesturing for her to stop in her tracks. His eyes were focused on the frozen ground underneath him. He began to follow whatever he saw, leaving his daughter behind. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and watched the king walk around. Suddenly a scream ripped from his throat. She stumbled backwards at the shocking sound. Her heart began to race as Azog resurfaced and the battle continued. „Father!“ She screamed, her shaking hands fumbling for her arrows and picking up her weapon from the ground. The frozen ground was shredded into tiny bits, making it impossible for her to join Thorins side and help him in close combat. So she had to aim for the enemy with her bow. Lodging one of the arrows, she let it fire and whirl through the wind. But she missed. Her arrows falling left and right into the water. The only sound that was heard were their grunts as Thorin lay underneath the orc, fighting for his life. He couldn‘t die like that. He couldn‘t die at all! She tried to grab another arrow, but there were none left.

Taking out her sword, she jumped onto one of the few ice pieces and began to slowly approach them. Her feet slipped countless times and her legs stung due to the cold water, but she still stumbled towards them. She had to help her father out. He needed her. Suddenly her father groaned and her eyes widened, as she saw that he stabbed Azog. They switched places and the orc lay lifeless underneath him. She stopped in her tracks, clinging onto the ice. It finally was over. The war was over. That was until her father fell to the ground. Her heart stopped and she immediately ran towards him. „Father!“ Her screams traveled across the empty field. Her arms and legs flailed as she jumped her way towards him. Her knees hit the ground beside him. Blood was pooling out of his wound and she immediately cradled his head in her lap. More blood oozed out of his lips, as he tried to utter some words. „Don’t talk! You will lose more blood.“ Tears began to stream down her face, as she watched him struggle more. He reached a shaking hand out toward her cheek. She leaned into his cold touch. „You will be a wonderful queen and… a wonderful ruler…“ He coughed. Hiccups fell from her own as she watched his life disappear from his eyes. „You can‘t die. We still have so much to do, you can‘t leave me yet. Please.“ Her voice cracked as she held her father closer. Her hands were pressing down on his wound. „I need a healer. You need a healer. I will press on your wound. Stay with me dad, please. I need you, please!“ Another cough from him cut her off. „I will always be by your side (Y/N).“ More tears fell from her eyes. He smiled up at her. „You are my… most important treasure.“

His hand slowly dropped from her face and his eyes began to close. „No. No!“ Her heart stopped. She tightly cradled him to her chest as more tears fell. As raw screams rippled from her throat. Even when Bilbo approached her, she didn‘t stop. She wailed like a baby while holding him, hoping he would open his eyes once more. Hoping he would hold her once more or give her a kiss on the head. „Please wake up.“ She whispered, her forehead touching his. But he never listened. She didn‘t even notice Legolas. Or how he gently lifted her from the ground. Or how they got back into the castle. The only thing she could remember was her father on the ice and how his blood soaked the water.

~5 Years After~ „You know, your father was worried about you.“ Gandalfs words made her turn around, surprise and confusion written over her face. „What do you mean?“ „He once saw you engaging with the prince. Well, who now is the king of Erebor.“ She smiled at the thought of her father. He always used to throw glares at the elf when he sat too close to her during the dinner. „He was worried that you might not find a place on Middle Earth.“ She frowned at his words. She didn‘t know that Thorin was worried about her. About her not being able to fit in. „But he also told me how proud he was of you.“ „How so?“ „He saw how you stood up against the dwarves and elf that belittled you. That told you that you belonged nowhere.“ The wizards words resurfaced the pain and bullying she had to endure. Not being a dwarf and neither being an elf was tough on her and most people did not take kindly upon her. But that never stopped her from stepping up for herself. From showing them that she deserves to be there, as much as they deserve to roam the world. „He told me that you will be a wonderful queen once you wear the crown. And it seems, that he was right.“ A bright smile graced her face at the compliment. „Thank you Gandalf.“ She turned towards the window and looked up into the night sky. „And thank you father. Thank you for believing in me.“

[wild-lavender-rose]

🌺Person A is exhausted and littered in bruises and painful little injuries (idk battle or orc attack?). In concern, Person B insists on taking care of and bandaging up the little wounds which Person A dismisses. Not wanting to push Person A, Person B begins placing small kisses on each wound. The tender love of this action makes Person A’s eyes start to water as they fight back tears.

I don't have a ship is it ok to do it character x reader, Person A being Thorin Oakenshield and Person B being reader?

I haven't written for Thorin in such a long time! It feels good getting back into writing for my favorite dwarf king <3 I hope you enjoy!

You sank down beside where Thorin sat looking steadily into the fire, resting your head on his shoulder. “Bofur says you’re injured.” 

     “Bofur knows not what he says.” 

     “He told me you said something like that.” You sighed. “And that you also insulted his mother.” 

     Thorin gave an amused grumble. “Did he?” 

     You rolled your eyes before shifting your head to look at his exposed arm. It was littered with scratches and bruises. Nothing serious, but nothing that should be left untended. You straighten and reach into the pouch at your side, withdrawing a roll of bandage and a small vial of ointment. “Beloved,” 

     Thorin watches as you take his hand, not resisting as you gently kiss his bloodied knuckles before beginning to tend them. He stays silent the whole time, watching as you kiss each wound before cleaning and covering it. When you move to sit in front of him in order to tend his other arm, you’re startled to find tears glistening in his eyes. “Thorin,” you touch his face, surprised when he leans into your touch. 

     “I don’t deserve you.” his bandaged hand captures your smooth one, pressing a kiss into your palm. “My beautiful wife.” 

Fanfic Masterlist

[fckmini]

cats in love that remind me of thorin and bilbo!!

ft. this extra one because hes silly!!

[enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog]

Best of Intentions - scene snippet. Character relationships and development -

*******

It wasn’t the first time Mistlynn cursed herself for her quick tongue and short temper. She had risen to his bait the night prior.

 The dreams were getting more vivid, more heated with each passing night much to her dismay. She was no longer merely distracted. She had been completely derailed in every sense of the word.

 By. Him.

 And his stupidly handsome face.

 And that insufferable smirk that he seemed to share only in her direction. Damn him.

 The butterflies that erupted in her stomach the moment he walked into that dining room had caught her off-guard, and when his beautiful, keen eyes landed on her, all her good sense had seemed to leave her as well.

 She had no desire to learn how to ride a horse. She was content with Luna. And if she couldn’t ride Luna she was plenty fit to walk. Dale wasn’t that far from the front gates of Erebor.

She was perfectly capable of walking that short distance, thank you very much.

 But she couldn’t let him win, could she? No. She could not abide by it. If she could ride a Dire wolf, of all the creatures on Aule’s green earth, she could ride a gods forsaken horse.

 She walked with her chin held high as they made their way to the stables. Thorin strode next to her, perfectly at ease in his riding leathers. Not an ounce of gold adorned him. It shouldn't drive her to distraction that he didn’t seem to care about dressing like a wealthy king. Not once trace of gold was on him, again. Just a few silver rings that matched the beads that held his braids in place.

Not once, since she had arrived in Erebor did she see him dress in the ostentatious finery she was told they would drip their bodies with from head to toe. That fact shouldn't bother her. But it did. And those infernal butterflies were present once again, making her wish she hadn’t grabbed a pastry from Rosalyn before this little venture. So many life choices she was regretting at this moment.

 “Now, remind me again of what your wager was?” Thorin’s voice startled her back from her inner musings.

 She masked her nervousness with a strategically placed glower. “That I can ride any horse of my choosing within an hour’s time.”

 The slight smirk that was lingering on his face as they walked grew at her peppery tone. He eyes twinkled brightly as he looked down at her, obviously enjoying their little exchange this early in the morning.

 “Ah yes. I am quite eager to see if you will bully the poor horse as you did my unfortunate soldiers.”

 “Unfortunate indeed. I am sure the horses sense of esteem will remain more intact than the pride of your dwarrows.” She chirped.

 The sound of his deep chuckle made those meddlesome butterflies scatter. Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath in. 

 “Perhaps we will find you something more suitable to ride when you find your pride planted in the dirt.” His tone was playful as he leaned in a little closer, so that he was looking down at her over his shoulder.

 “Aye, and when the horse bests ye I am sure a way more suitable ride can be found, of that I am certain.” A rugged drawl came up from behind them.

Mistlynn was already flustered by Thorin’s teasing and knowing that the imposing Captain overheard their jests made her fight to conceal the blush blooming across her chest heat rapidly and flush up to her cheeks.

 She knew they could see it, and she loathed them for it. The infernal butterflies reveled in it.

 Thorin rolled his eyes at Dwalin’s teasing before giving his friend a pointed look. Mistlynn let out an indignant huff and continued to walk on, her back ramrod straight, chin held with a renewed determination.

 “Did I do something to you in another life? I was having a perfectly fine conversation before you butted your ugly mug in.” Thorin grumbled under his breath as they watched Mistlynn’s petite form storm off towards the horse paddocks.

 “You’ve done aplenty to me in this life. This is the first and only time I have had the pleasure of goading your One. I have waited so long.” Dwalin smirked mischievously.

 “In that case, maybe I should go visit that bonnie little dam whose bakery you started to frequent so much? I’ve had a real sweet tooth lately, as have you I’ve noticed.” Thorin grinned wickedly as he watched Dwalin’s left eye twitch subtly at the jab.

 “Do you not have anything else better to do with your time, like being a King and ruling your kingdom perchance?” They began to walk again, following after Mistlynn.

 “Of course I do, that’s why I have Nori as my spymaster. He comes in really handy. It’s almost like I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

 “Yer a menace.” Dwalin growled good naturedly. “Who put you in charge?”

 Thorin sighed as he watched Mistlynn look around in poorly concealed horror when she realized how many had gathered around the paddocks. It was apparent their exchange the night prior did not go unnoticed or unheard, and everyone was eager to see how the wager played out.

 “I ask myself that every day. Things were so much easier when I was just a blacksmith.”

 “Ye were never meant to be just a blacksmith. Ye were meant to be here, to save her, and rule your kingdom together.”

 “She doesn’t seem eager to do anything together, with me especially.” Thorin grumbled. “The only thing I seem to draw from her is irritation.”

 Dwalin laughed, “Do not fret, there is far more than that below all of that spitfire.”

 As they approached, Mistlynn whirled on them, her eyes flashing with anger. “You seriously invited everyone to watch? This was a wager between you and me!”

 “Maybe you shouldn't be making such a show at dinner time.” An excited Bofur called from his perch up on the fencing. “Especially after that little show you gave us yesterday.”

 “I have never been more entertained.” Fili grinned winningly at her as he winked.

 “Or wealthier.” Kili chimed in as he nodded towards where Ori was scribbling down everyone’s wagers. “It drew him forth from the depths and into the light of profitable gains.”

 “Are you not all wealthy already?” Mistlynn folded her arms across her chest as she gave each one a pointed look.

 “Oh, to be sure.” Nori chuckled. “But where is the fun in just sitting on it. Besides, I have some gold I have to win back.”

 Mistlynn blinked before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Of course you do.”

 “Now now lass. Dont keep us in suspense.” Gloin chortled as Thorin and Dwalin walked up and joined everyone leaning against the fence. “Pick one.”

 Mistlynn sniffed, her nose twitching as she looked ahead of them and into the grazing horses. They didn’t seem threatening or wild. Whispers of excitement and knowing chuckles trickled on the wind around her as she studied each horse. She didn’t want anything too easy. They all seemed so docile and tame.

How could she garner their respect by riding a meek creature that lived for nothing but to graze and soak in the sunlight.

 A loud neigh carried over to her on the morning breeze, and a flash of white caught her eye from the paddock across from them. In that paddock, a lone horse of the purest white galloped and tossed its head in what seemed to be some sort of revelry. 

A smile teased her lips as she watched the magnificent creature. Her blood began to hum in excitement.

 Perfect.

 She snapped her fingers and pointed, confidence exuding from her at her choice. “That one.”

 The smile that had been on Thorin’s face disappeared as her choice registered. All conversation ceased as everyone looked over to the white horse. Stunned.

 “Of course she would pick that she devil.” Dwalin muttered aloud.

 “She’s perfect.” Mistlynn grinned from ear to ear.

 “Absolutely not.” Thorin growled. “Pick from this paddock.”

 “You mock me, my Lord.’ Mistlynn looked at him testily. “All these horses seem to be interested in anything else but riding.’

 “Oh, he isnt mocking.” Fili laughed nervously. “They are tame. That one…is a bit more fiesty.”

 Mistlynn watched as a grey mare meandered up to the water trough and drank deeply, without a care in the world.

 “That one will do nicely.” Thorin nodded towards the grey mare.

Mistlynn ground her teeth together. “That one looks near death.” She glowered.

 Dwalin scoffed as Thorin returned her glower with a challenging look. “You will be on deaths door if you ride that white beast.”

 “Then why own such an animal if you cannot ride it?” She challenged.

“The only one who hasn’t been thrown by her is Thorin.” Kili grimaced.

 “Perfect. If he can ride her, then so shall I.”

 Fili elbowed Kili while Thorin sent his nephew a silencing glare. “What? Im trying to discourage her not encourage her. Everyone knows Thorin is the better rider here.”

 “Not. Helping.’ Fili groaned as they all watched Mistlynn set her shoulders back in determination.

 “Lad, you have only courted an elf maiden and it shows.” Gloin shook his head. “She’s a dam for Mahal’s sake.”

 “SHE is standing right here, and SHE is going to go ride that horse. And you, my liege, are going to step aside and let me.” Mistlynn gave each wide eyed dwarrow a pointed look before she sidestepped Thorin and began to walk towards the other paddock.

 “You're going to break your bleeding neck, you obstinate creature.” Thorin growled as he stormed after her.

 “Watch me.” Mistlynn singsonged. The white mare had stopped running the length of her paddock and was now watching her from the middle. “She’s stunning.” She smiled as she looked at her through the space of the fencing.

 She moved to put her foot through the lower section of the fence, but a hand hit the railing by her head. “I forbid it. You will choose another horse.” The low rumble of his voice made the hair on the back of her neck rise as a smirk turned the corner of her mouth upwards.

 A soft, curious nicker made them both look into the paddock. The white mare had come closer, curiosity evident in her large brown eyes. Mistlynn’s smirk widened into an outright grin. “Oh, imagine that? She likes me.” She quickly ducked under the fence and stood slowly on the other side, so that she was looking at the creature head on.

 Thorin grit his teeth as he watched Mistlynn approach the mare, and slowly bring her hand to the horses head. She pet her softly, and the mare appeared to accept it.

 “If she is able to ride that mare, I will eat my own boot.” Dwalin grumbled as he approached with everyone else, all eyes transfixed on Mistlynn and the white mare.

 “I’ll take that bet.” Kili snickered.

 “This is not funny. This is serious.” Thorin growled, not once taking his eyes off of Mistlynn as she continued to pet the mare and speak to her softly.

 “She didn’t even let you do that when you first approached her.” Fili pointed out.

 Bofur chuckled softly. “Are you talking about the mare or our warrior princess lad?”

 “Quiet all of you.” Thorin hissed. “Just because she is letting her pet her doesn’t mean anything.”

 “If she is able to ride that bloody horse I will never let you live it down.” Dwalin began to snicker as he watched Mistlynn grab ahold of the reins.

 “Oi Mist! Are you sure of which end your supposed to get on?” Kili waggled his eyebrows as he grinned.

Mistlynn flipped him a rude gesture as she gave him a sarcastic smirk. Raucous laughter erupted from the group of friends before they quieted down into low snickers to not spook the horse.

 She jumped onto the back of the mare, her hands tight on the white mane as the powerful animal bolted. Mistlynn’s eyes narrowed, jaw clenched as she focused on hanging on to the beast beneath her. She managed to hold on for a few moments before she was bucked off, somersaulting over the front of the mare and onto the flat of her back as the horse whinnied and galloped off to the other side of the ring. Mistlynn sucked in a sharp breath as she fought to refill her lungs.

 Thorin vaulted himself over the railing at lightning speed before anyone else could react and rushed to her side, his eyes stormy and wide with panic as he skidded to his knees and knelt beside her.

 “M’eudail! Are you ok?” His eyes scanned her dust covered body in concern as she groaned and shifted before pushing herself up.

She coughed and let out a little squeak of a groan. “I’m perfectly fine. Just dazed.” She managed to wheeze. She looked up at him as she gasped in air greedily and was taken aback by the worried expression on his face.

“Sar em gabura[AA1] .” He growled as the worry in his eyes morphed into anger. “You’ve proven nothing but how foolish you are. You are done.”

 Her affronted laugh rattled as she coughed. “Done, am I? Who are you to tell me I am done?” She pushed herself up to her feet, gritting her teeth as her sore muscles protested the movement. “You're not my keeper, MY Lord. So kindly step aside and let me finish this.”

 Thorin’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding painfully as he watched her go back over to the mare, holding her hands up again to calm the wary creature.

She clapped her hands and motioned for the mare to bolt again. She had to gain the mare’s trust; she knew this. Not forcefully seize it from the creature. She had Luna’s trust since she had raised her from a young pup. This creature owed her nothing. She had often watched Argo’s with their livestock, and when it came to their reindeer, she figured the same principle could be applied. Horses were more agile and fast, but their eyes held the same intelligence.

 

Thorin walked back to the paddock fence and leaned his back against it, his arms crossed across his chest in agitation. He watched her chase the mare in the opposite direction again. She shouted and clapped her hands loudly and herded the horse skillfully, much to his surprise.

 “She handled that tumble well.” Gloin muttered to no one in particular as they watched her work with the mare tirelessly.

 “She’s a little spitfire, I’ll give her that.” Nori chuckled. “You saw how she handled the soldiers yesterday. “

 “Mighty mouse.” Kili chuckled. “I think that’s the perfect description.

 “Don’t let her catch you calling her that, she will steal the dagger from your belt and take your tongue with it.” Fili scoffed.

 Dwalin rested his forearms on the fence next to Thorin and let out a humored grunt. “Ye have your work set out for ye.”

 Thorin’s scowl deepened, his gaze not leaving Mistlynn once as she continued to move about the paddock and work with the fiery mare. He didn’t feel the need to respond to Dwalin’s comment, he knew there was no use in convincing his closest friend otherwise.

 

The minutes passed quickly as Mistlynn worked. She was nearing the hour mark and felt herself losing patience with the beautiful snow-white mare. She wanted to be able to ride her, but she seemed to be just as stubborn and unwilling to be tamed, much like herself. She couldn’t begrudge the magnificent animal that.

 Argo’s had made this all look so easy. Animals had been drawn to him, as if he could speak to them with his eyes and body language alone. She felt her heart twinge at the thought of her little brother. He would have been riding the mare at this point, he wouldn’t have ruined his chances by jumping on her back. He would have made sure to win her trust first.

 She had been too focused on winning the wager with the infuriating Dwarrow who seemed to do nothing but rile her up with a mere smirk and skillfully directed jab. He was now truly under her skin.

 She stopped in the center of the paddock and watched the mare continue to gallop circles around her. She let her shoulders sag, a small sign of defeat as she turned to face her audience that had grown quiet as the minutes bled into an hour. She let out an exasperated breath as she placed her hands on her hips and looked up at Thorin. He was still in the paddock with her, leaning against the wooden slats with his broad shoulders, arms and legs crossed as if he didn’t have a care in the world at that moment as he watched her fail.

 That was a difficult realization for her to swallow, the desire to impress him had surged upwards into her throat, nearly choking her while stealing the air from her lungs. She had never experienced this sudden need to impress a male that was not kin to her, and that made her skin tingle as if she were blushing.  Her throat bobbed as she attempted to gain her voice back.

“You’ve won your wager, my Lord.” Her voice was clipped as she forced herself to look up at him to meet his piercing gaze.

 Thorin’s eyebrows raised slowly, a corner of his mouth twisting up in a half smirk. Dwalin scoffed and shook his head, mumbling something under his breath while everyone else seemed to share looks of intrigue and respect.

 Thorin cocked his head to the side as he chuckled. “I think it would be fair we called it a draw.”

 She blinked in confusion at his response, but before she could question him about it she heard the sound of hoofs approaching her from behind. She felt a soft huff of breath on her shoulder before a soft knicker tickled her ear. She held her breath in surprise as the mare came up behind her, gently nudging her shoulder with its head before draping its neck over her shoulder.

 Mistlynn slowly turned her head to look at the mare in awe. She raised a hand up slowly and placed it upon the forehead to trace the soft fur underneath the long mane that hung over the soft earth brown eyes that peered at her. For the first time since Luna, she felt a connection. And she began to understand the draw to ride such a powerful creature that was meant to run. She wasn’t a predator built to pursue its prey, but an animal that was made to chase the wind.

 [AA1]Dammit it! (May it melt) -

******

Taglist-

@fizzyxcustard @mrsdurin

[ravnarieldurin]

Hot Chocolate

Genre: Fluff...fluff...all the fluff!!!

A few mouth-wateringly sweet one shots between you (fem!wifereader) and each of the sons of Durin. Head on over to AO3 to read (available for everyone).

Merry Christmas (only one day late, haha!) and Happy Holidays everyone!

(Did I write these instead of working on my long fic? Yes. Yes I did. I regret nothing. 😁)

[vechkinfan]

Thank you all for the likes for the first chapter! Hope you continue to enjoy this rewrite! and if you want to be added to the tag list let me know.

Pairing: Fili x OC and Thorin x OC

Summary: Calin finds herself in middle-earth. with Balin at her side they travel to the shire to where the quest to Erebor beings.

Rating: M for later chapters

Word count: ~5.4K

Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

Edge Of Night: Chapter 2

~One Month Later~

Calin laid with her back pressed to the cool August grass as she stared wistfully up at the stars. Her hands positioned behind her head as a makeshift pillow.

Darkness had descended quickly on the small clearing that she found herself in quite often. The shadows of the trees disappeared, leaving nothing but a blackness that engulfed her. She knew earlier that she should have left before it became too dark, but being stubborn she had pushed away that thought and stayed. Whether it was the peace she felt out in the woods or just the fact that she didn't particularly want to go back to reality was what had kept Calin out here longer than intended.

Sighing heavily, she sat up, gently running a hand through her tangled mess of brown hair. Her eyes panned around the clearing as her ears picked up on some leaves rustling and twigs snapping in the distance. Normally it would be no concern to her, but given the lateness and how dark it had become she was slightly on edge. A layer of gooseflesh awakening across the skin of her arms as the rustling grew closer. An unnerving feeling settling over the clearing.

Standing to her feet quickly, Calin roughly brushed off the loose grass that had stuck itself to the material of her cargo pants. Without taking her eyes away from the area the rustling was coming from she gripped the straps of the backpack that had been laying beside her and lifted it up, sliding it onto her back as quietly as she could muster. 

"Hello?" Calin called out, just in case it was a person. But when she heard no response she shrugged it off as her imagination, or an animal that was wandering across the wooded area. It was night after all and many critters of the nocturnal variety live in this area. 

Just as she slowly began walking backwards towards the direction she had come from earlier in the day, she heard another much louder rustle from across the way. This time it caused Calin to stop dead in her tracks. Her eyes narrowing towards the opposite side of the clearing where the noise came from.

She knew it was probably nothing, but for some unknown reason she couldn't ignore the sound. Like a siren call, or a moth to the neon light of a bug zapper, it had her mesmerized and unable to look away. So, doing what any sain, normal person would do, she slowly and carefully stalked in the direction of the noise. Bending down hoping to keep concealed she continued to walk silently across the clearing and into the otherside of the woods.

Calin’s hands came out and gently pushed away branches that hung close to her face, making sure to make all of her movements calculated. Not wanting to draw any unwanted attention towards her presence by stepping on a pile of dried leaves or a dead branch. But with it being so dark she could barely see anything in front of her.

As Calin continued to steadily walk, her free hand fumbled with her side pocket trying to pull her phone out wanting to turn on its flashlight, hoping to shed some light as the rustling sound grew even louder. It was unlike anything she ever heard. Calin grew up wandering these woods and she knew when an animal was around, they gave off a very distinct noise when prowling. This... It almost sounded like footsteps, but heavier as if someone was stomping around angrily.

Swallowing back the growing lump in her throat she pushed forward into the darkness. Thoughts of her phone long gone, figuring a light would only draw unwanted attention. Well, that was until the tip of her boot caught the edge of a tree root that was just barely sticking out from the wet ground. Calin let out a small yelp as she fell, body landing harshly on the dirt floor but to make matters worse she must have landed on an incline cause she felt herself sliding rather quickly through the leaves on the ground. Sticking her hands out to try and slow herself down anyway she could but Calin was traveling too fast to actually get a decent grip on anything without it ripping from her grasp painfully. So as she tumbled down the hill all she could do was pray that she didn't smash head first into a tree. That would be embarrassing... Local girl dies, impaled by tree after hiking accident. She could just picture the headlines now...

Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for impact and a few moments later she felt herself leave the ground and then plummet promptly back to earth. Her hands came out to brace for the fall, but as she landed Calin’s head smashed against a rather large rough object causing a slew of profanity to escape her lips and her vision to blur in and out of focus.

"Fucking hell." She groaned out loud, as her  eyes slowly fluttered open. Taking note of the nice size rock underneath her forehead.

"What colorful language, are you alright lass?" Squinting her eyes trying to regain some clarity back to her vision, she heard a gentle voice from behind.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Calin muttered quietly as she slowly started to get up. However she promptly dropped back down to her knees, her surroundings still spinning from the impact. "I don't even remember a hill being there." Sighing, Calin squeezed her eyes shut trying to composure herself before turning to stare up in the direction she came hurtling down from. It was a massive hill covered with rather large oak trees and a few other types of trees that she didn't entirely recognize.

"Well, that certainly was a nasty fall." This time she finally took note of the voice. It was obviously a man and given his accent he might have been British maybe Scottish even. "But I do believe this hill has been here for quite some time, lass." From her place on the ground she tilted her head up towards the voice and what Calin’s eyes saw she truly wasn't expecting.

The man, who appeared to be quite short in stature, was hovering over her with his hands out at the ready, available to catch her if she tried to stand once again. His bushy eyebrows were pulled up in concern as she stared wordlessly at him in wonder. His face was rather round from what she could gather in the evening light, but a huge expanse of white hair covered most of it, in what she thought was the most remarkable beard she had ever seen.

"Balin, at your service." He said cheerfully as he reached out a hand towards her.

Without hesitation Calin gently placed her hand in his and watched as his large fingers nearly engulfed her own. Which was quite a feat, because she had unusually large hands for a girl. 

"Thank's, the name’s Calin." Giving him a genuine nod of thanks, she let go of his hand and began brushing off the leaves and dirt that had embedded themselves into her clothing. "What did you say your name was again?" Calin asked, her eyes looked down nearly a foot before she met his own.

"Balin." He smiled once again and gave a little bow.

The name had her hands freezing instantly,  hovering over the top of her thighs where she had been cleaning off the dirt. Balin? As in one of the dwarves from The Hobbit...

"Son of Fundin?"  Calin slowly asked, praying to some higher power that it was a mere coincidence. Or that perhaps she had still misheard him.

"Yes of course, how do you know of him?" This time it was the man who seemed a little perplexed. For his eyebrow quirked upwards in confusion, clearly unsure of how she knew of such an intimate detail.

That's it! She must have knocked herself out during that fall. Calin must have slammed her head against that rock hard enough to black out right there, cause there was no other explanation for this other than someone being out here in the woods larping. But who the hell does that in the dead of night. Especially in such an elaborate costume.

"I think I need to sit back down." She mumbled, a wave of nausea hitting her like a ton of bricks. Calin's mind spinning not only from my accident but what was happening in front of her, at the very moment. Surely this wasn't happening, and if it was she couldn't just tell him how she knew who his father was.

Leaning over, Calin braced her hands against her knees in an attempt to calm herself. Her eyes shut tightly hoping that when she reopened them she'd see the leaf covered ground where she had fallen. Or maybe she had fallen asleep and it was all just a stupid dream. But when she slowly opened them her surroundings hadn't changed, in fact Calin was still standing in front of Balin. His face holding even more concern than she remembered. 

"Were you attacked, lass? Was someone chasing you?" Balin asked softly as he placed his canvas pack on the ground. His hands unclasping the buckle on the front and making quick work to pull out a long piece of fabric.

"I thought I heard something..." Calin stated, her eyes desperately turning back up towards the hill. "I have to go back though, I have to go back home." Shaking her head in denial, she stumbled her way back up the incline a few feet. Her boots slipped on the damp grass, making it almost impossible to get any traction.

"Lass, surely you know there is not but trees and mountains in that direction. No one lives past those woods for orcs have overrun it." His voice came out as a plea to get her to listen to reason. "Please, do not venture back. I could not forgive myself if I let you walk to your death."

Blowing out her held breath, she gave the top of the hill one last longing glance. What was she doing? Even if she walked up the hill, she wasn't going to be able to find the way home. She was still most likely unconscious and this was some weird dream world that she had fallen into. At least if she stayed, she'd be with Balin and not alone wandering the woods for the rest of eternity, or until she woke up completely.

"Ok." Her voice was weak as she spun around and slowly came back down towards the man.

In his hands he held up a long dark cloak which was what he must have gotten from his pack.

"Here lass, let's cover you up. The night air is a bit brisk." He smiled and she took the cloak from his hands, wrapping it around her shoulders, realizing she was just in a thin black tank top.

"Thanks again." Calin said quietly and again Balin gave a nod as he picked his pack back up.

"It is of no trouble." He shook off her thanks as if it was something that happened regularly. "Let's get moving, we can sort out where you need to head off to in the morning. It is far too dangerous to be out here alone." He added as he started walking down the gravel path. Leaving her standing there quietly.

Deciding it was best to follow him, her feet quickly caught up with his strides. Calin’s work boots causing the stone beneath them to crunch softly in the night air.

"Where are we headed?" Her curiosity finally  hit hard as she asked the question.

"The Shire." He turned his head in her direction smiling, his feet still carrying him forward.

The Shire? Well I suppose death could be far worse. Clearly she had woken up in some strange version of The Hobbit, and judging by where he was headed Calin assumed it was right before the quest had even started. Which also meant Gandalf would be around. Surely he'd know how to get her back to her world if this still wasn't some hallucination.

They walked silently for a few hours after that. Balin was very weary to tell her anything more about why he was heading in the direction he was. So he kept his answers minimal, and after a while Calin took the hint and shut her mouth.

The night breeze had picked up, the coolness engulfing her body as they walked through the overgrown paths. She had pulled the hood of the cloak up around her face to shield from the brisk wind that was cutting at the bruised flesh of her cheek. Balin seemed to not be bothered by it for he kept walking, not hesitating even as they heard distant shrieks reverberating off the trees from the woods that surrounded them.

Calin was just thankful that she was accustomed to traipsing around the uneven floor of the forest, and had worn her work boots out that morning, for if she wasn't prepared she was sure her feet would be blistered and bloodied at the moment. And there was nothing worse than walking around on sore feet.

"We are here." Balin said quietly, bringing her out of her thoughts. Calin's eyes flickering up from the ground to see what Balin was talking about.

Small picket fences outlined the well worn walkways. Houses were scattered here and there across the landscape, the windows lit by flickering flames from candles sitting on the ledge inside. Large sunflowers stood tall against some of the fences, as they passed them by. If it wasn't pitch black out she was  sure the Shire would have truly been a sight to behold.

"One of the lads should have something that may fit you when they arrive, lass." Pulling herself from the slight daze over where she was currently standing, she took notice of Balin addressing her.

She didn't have time to ask him what he was talking about, for they had rounded a corner that led them up a small hill, and at the top of the hill was a big green round door. Attached to the wooden fence outside of the hobbit hole was a single pony that appeared to be rather invested in eating the few patches of grass in the path.

As they reached the front fence, Calin’s hand gently reached out and pushed it open for Balin. Her fingers lingering on the smooth grain of the wood as if it would disappear under her touch if she let go. Balin however, just kept his speed until he reached the round green door. His finger coming up and giving the bell a lite tap as Calin closed the gate and made her way behind him.

Her feet gently shuffled against the smooth ground, kicking up some dust as she nervously waited for Bilbo to open the door. And if right on queue, the hinges creaked quietly and light flooded out from the tiny hole in the ground. A rather short man, with messy auburn hair stood holding the handle of the door. His patchwork bathrobe tied tight about his waist as he stared between Balin and herself curiously.

"Balin, at your service." Balin smiled, addressing the hobbit in a similar fashion he had addressed her earlier that night.

"Good evening." The hobbit said, his eyes narrowing slightly. Clearly confused as to why they were here.

"Yes, yes it is, though I think it might rain later. Am I late?" Balin asked, as he tilted his head up towards the sky. Doing the same, Calin finally took note of the dark grey clouds that had rolled in behind them. Leaving the night sky even darker than normal.

"Late for what?" Again the hobbit asked, looking even more puzzled than before. But before he even could process what was happening, Balin stepped into the house. From where Calin was standing outside, she could see a rather full smile plastered on his aged face.

"Oh, ha ha! Evening, brother. Heh, heh." He said happily, disappearing into the house leaving Bilbo and her alone.

"Sorry about this." Calin said gently, hoping to bridge some form of a small friendship. She didn't want him thinking they were there to rob the place. But if things played out like the book, his pantry would be robbed of every last morsel of food. "Calin." Bringing her hand out from under the warm confines of the cloak she reached it towards Bilbo. Ignoring her inner self and deciding not to warn Bilbo of what was to come. Surely her knowledge of future events occurring was dangerous and she could potentially end up changing the whole fate of this journey by one slip of the tongue.

The hobbit stared up at her curiously for a few moments before taking her hand in his and giving it a firm shake. "Bilbo." He added with a smile, stepping out of the way allowing her to duck into the house. Surprisingly the doorway was the only place she had to duck down, it seemed like her taller than average height was only about a foot and a half taller than the dwarves and hobbits, leaving her with some head room.

"Wider, not shorter. Sharp enough for both of us." Calin heard Balin exclaim as she finally pulled the hood down from around her head, allowing herself to gaze around at the remarkable home. Peter Jackson, you weren't far off at all, she thought to herself as she took in the rich woods of the floor and how even though they were in a house in the ground it gave off a homey feel.

"Who is this?" Calin’s eyes widened as a rough looking dwarf in a fur collared coat, stormed towards her. His gaze shifted back to Balin, as if silently asking him why she was even here.

"I found her out in the woods, brother. I believe orcs had chased her down from the hills. She still seems a bit lost." Balin quickly came to his brother's side, defending her from his scrutinizing gaze. Lost? Wasn't that the greatest understatement of the year. But his story of being chased by orcs was at least plausible compared to some she might have thought of.

"Uh, excuse me; sorry, I hate to interrupt, ah, but the thing is, I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house." Bilbo who was standing beside her finally spoke up addressing the three of them. But it seemed to go on deaf ears with the dwarves.

"We will tend to her wounds, nothing more. She will need to be gone by morning." Balin's brother glared at her for another moment then turned around and headed off down the hall with Balin following closely by his side. At his words she subconsciously lifted a hand to her face, letting her fingers graze gently across the skin of her forehead and cheek. Feeling the abrasive edges of a long gash, she winced realizing she probably looked worse for wear.

Standing awkwardly in the center of the foyer, her ears picked up on the two dwarves muttering to one another about food and being hungry. Letting her know she would at least be free to tend to herself for a bit uninterrupted. They'd be in the pantry clearing it out until the others arrived.

"It's not that I don't like visitors; I-I like visitors as much as the next Hobbit, but I do like to know them before they come visiting." Bilbo addressed as he leaned over to see the dwarves all but ransacking his pantry. A nervous expression painted clearly across his face.

"Tell me about it." Calin huffed, setting her bag down gently on the floor by the wall. This in turn caught Bilbo's attention once again. His eyes widening taking in her appearance for the first time since she stepped in out of the darkness.

"I-I am terribly sorry." He mumbled and began pacing back and forth, his hands flailing about as he searched for something. "Please, sit down." He motioned to a small rickety looking chair opposite of the door.

As he wandered about looking for whatever it was he was looking for she eyed the chair cautiously. Calin’s hand reached out giving it a small shake testing its strength, still uncertain whether or not she was going to chance sitting in it. When she heard a creak from the old stained wood, she instantly let it go, her eyes shifting back and forth nervously making sure no one heard it.

"Maybe it's best if I don't touch anything." She muttered to herself and promptly took a seat on the floor beside the chair. Out stretching her legs as she let her eyes take in her surroundings.

Out of all the places her mind could have taken her, it was The Hobbit. One of her favorite movies and books of all time. She just couldn't fathom that she was actually sitting in Bilbo's house, the night where the quest to reclaim Erebor started. And if Bilbo thought it was bad now with just two dwarves here she hardly doubted he would be able to handle the mass of dwarves about to arrive. Because if she remembered correctly the two Durin princes were to arrive next. Those two would most likely drive Bilbo clinically insane by the night's end.

"Sorry about that." Bilbo came padding back in holding a white washcloth. "Not used to tending to people."

"Don't worry about it. It probably looks worse than it is." Calin gave a small chuckle as he came to stand in front of her. His hand gently tilted her head up as he started to clean the cut on her forehead first followed by the scratches on her cheek.

Surprisingly he was very soft with his movements, dabbing the wet cloth against the angry red wound trying his best to clean it without causing her pain or irritating her skin further. His nose scrunched up in concentration before they both saw a piece of blue cheese come flying out from the pantry. Which immediately caused Bilbo to pull away and groan unhappily.

"Are they always like this?" He asked while looking at her. But all she gave was a simple shoulder shrug, unsure how to answer him. They were dwarves, they liked food just as much as hobbits. They were just a little bit more messy...

Ignoring the two now coming out of the pantry with full arms, Bilbo leaned towards her again to finish cleaning the cut on her forehead. His hand barely lifted from his side when the bell rang. At this Bilbo sighed loudly and left the cloth in her hands as he stomped his way across the room and opened the door.

"Fili."

"And Kili."

"At your service." Calin heard two voices say enthusiastically from outside. But Bilbo had only opened the door slightly blocking my view of the two dwarves.

"Nope, you can't come in, you've come to the wrong house." Calin's lip upturned into a small smirk as she heard Bilbo desperately try to get the two outside to leave. It was a losing battle though, dwarves were hard headed not being keen on giving up. And just as she expected a quite large leather boot caught the edge of the door as Bilbo tried to close it swiftly on the two.

"What? Has it been cancelled?" One of them asked, a deep worry lacing their voice.

"No one told us." The other stated quickly. His voice holding more power compared to his brother.

"Can-? No-nothing's been cancelled." Bilbo sputtered, showing he was very frustrated by the sudden influx of unexpected guests showing up at his front door.

"Well, that's a relief." Just as the voice sounded out, two dwarves pushed their way into the small foyer.

They stood there for a brief moment, looking around the room before they began to unload their belongings onto Bilbo. Who was now standing stalk still with his arms out in front of him as he watched these two plow their way into his home.

"Careful with these, I just had 'em sharpened." The blond dwarf said, his impressive golden mane swinging as he dropped a bundle of swords into the hobbits hand. Nearly knocking him over in the process.

"It's nice, this place. D'you do it yourself?" Her attention quickly turned to the smaller brother, who had taken to scrapping the mud that collected on the soles of his boots from his travels on the edge of a fairly expensive looking chest.

As Calin sat watching this event play out all she could really do was scrunch her face in knowing worry. It was one thing to read about dwarves destroying Bilbo's perfectly kept house, but it was a whole other experience sitting on the ground being associated with the dwarves who were doing this. She'd be lucky if she wasn't kicked out after what just happened.

"Brother, look! A woman!" Calin had been nervously ringing the damp cloth that was in her hands when Fili and Kili finally took note of her. Their faces turned up in wide smiles as they ignored Bilbo's rants about ruining his mothers glory box.

"Aye! You must be a friend of master Baggins." The blond smiled proudly. "Fili and Kili, at your service." He bowed his head with his brother in greeting. The braided strands of his mane dangled freely in the air before he stood to his full height once again.

"No no no! She is not a friend! I don't even know her!" Bilbo protested from behind them. His hands were now free from the heavy weapons Fili had dropped into them earlier.

Calin couldn't help but feel a slight pang of hurt at his words though. She wasn't sure why because he was being truthful, they didn't know each other. It was just that she felt like she knew these characters, that she had a connection with them already despite never truly meeting till this moment. So she knew she had to play dumb, at least until Gandalf arrived.

"Calin." She nodded her head the best she could from my spot on the floor. A small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she saw the two brothers staring at her in wonder. "Ah he's right." An awkward chuckle escaped her lips, her free hand coming up to run nervous fingers through her unkempt chestnut colored hair.  While the hand still holding onto the washcloth gestured towards Bilbo who was now more concerned with the two other dwarves carrying things into his dining room. "Balin found me actually. Don't remember much but he said something about orcs." Calin shrugged in hopes that the little white lie would pass with the two brothers.

"A woman who escaped orcs, impressive." Kili smiled and ducked his head lower, his blue eyes fixated on the large gash on her forehead.

"Not really." Mumbling to herself quietly, Calin denied that fact. Unless Orc was a fancy new word for rock, then no, not very impressive.

"I am sure uncle will not be thrilled by her presence." Fili added, his face that once held curiosity now held an oddly fearful expression. His chest heaving a heavy sigh as he looked her over once again. His blue eyes boring holes into her skin like he would be able to read Calin’s true intentions. The look quickly vanished though as his head tilted causing his mustache braids to sway gently. "Perhaps she is who Gandalf spoke of. It would explain her direction of travel."

"She is a woman!" Kili's brow lifted in confusion. His hands raising up in exasperation and outright batting down his brother's words "Surely he would not ask her to join."

"She is a fighter brother." Slapping his brother's arm Fili pointed to her disheveled appearance. Calin indeed looked like she had fought her way through the forest but she wasn't a fighter, she had never picked up a sword or a fist for that matter. However in that moment she felt grateful for the young Durin prince. Even though he had hesitations about her arrival here, he didn't write her off like Dwalin, Balin, or his younger brother.

"Fili, Kili, come on, give us a hand." Dwalin's loud booming voice echoed down the hall, breaking their  little moment apart.

"Mister Dwalin." Kili cheekily greeted as soon as he heard the familiar voice, causing him to venture over towards the others. Fili hesitated a moment, looking at her one last time with calculating eyes before following his brother. Leaving her alone once again.

Knowing that the others would undoubtedly be arriving shortly, she decided to clear her stuff from the room. Standing more quickly than she should have, her vision blurred and she stumbled a bit as she grabbed her bag. In the background she could hear the four dwarves still moving things about and Bilbo objecting vigorously.

It was falling on deaf ears still so Calin was surprised Bilbo continued his valiant attempts.

Slowly wandering down the hall she managed to find the bathroom. Well it wasn't exactly hard, Bilbo's house was easy enough to wander around, and all the room doors were open so it didn't take a genius to find the bath. Ducking in she placed the red tinged wash cloth on the counter by the sink, not really needing it anymore. But not knowing entirely what to do with it.

In the corner of the room by the large wooden tub was an ornate cupboard. Its brass looking handles gleaned from the candle that was perched on the windowsill. Deciding it was best to hide her bag, she strode over and opened the small door. Inside there were a few towels that had been neatly folded and tucked away for later use. It was safer if none of these curious dwarves saw what she had, just in case. For if they did, she would most certainly not be trusted by anyone here. And being an outsider as it was, she didn't need that happening.

Taking a quick glance over her shoulder she made sure the coast was clear before she shoved the bag into the cramped space. Surprisingly it fit almost perfectly allowing her to close the door as if nothing was ever disturbed.

Smiling to herself at the sneaky job well done, she made her way out of the bathroom and back to the foyer. Calin’s boots thudded against the old wooden floors as she grew closer. Bilbo still seemed to be trying his best to get the four dwarves to listen but as expected they still seemed in their own world.

Just as she got to the door, the bell rang out quite loud. Calin’s body flinched, not expecting it to be quite that ear piercing.

"Oh no. No, no! There's nobody home. Go away, and bother somebody else. There's far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is. If- if- If this is some clotterd's idea of a joke, ha ha, I can only say, it is in very poor taste." Bilbo rounded the corner, a scowl on his face, his bare feet stomping towards the door.

"I got it." Calin spun around gripping the heavy handle mainly so Bilbo wouldn't have to greet eight dwarves all at the same time. He barely handled two of them, any more than that would overload the poor hobbit.

Unlatching the lock, she yanked the door open, hearing several voices arguing from outside. As soon as the wooden door was slightly ajar it slipped out of her hand as dwarves came tumbling down at her feet. All of them groaned loudly, shouting at one another to get off. And right behind them stood an unusually tall man, in a grey robe. A tall grey hat stood on his head and a long walking stick posed in his hand as he peered down and into the hobbits house.

Gandalf...

"Gandalf." From behind her Bilbo muttered, but Gandalf didn't take heed. His gaze was trained solely on Calin, a smirk tugged at his thin lips and a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Chapter 3

tag list: @thelittletobsterthatcould

[gloomwitchwrites]

Can I request for the 1k event this : talking bath (naughty) with Thorin after a stressfull day

Hehe. You’re making my imagination run wild. I tried to lean toward the gender-neutral side on this one. And, because of the spiciness of the prompt, MDNI.

King Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

ao3 / 1k event masterlist // main masterlist

Thorin loves a hot bath after a stressful day. Even without a partner, Thorin can enjoy himself. The hot water is a balm, soothing his muscles and erasing his worry. It’s truly the only time he has alone. His entire life is consumed with rebuilding Erebor and taking care of his people. This is his time to do something for himself.

Now, Thorin taking a hot bath after a stressful day with his partner? Even better. It’s the appetizer before the main meal. Thorin prefers taking his bath with you whenever he can. While he takes the majority of the burden in terms of royal duties, you take on a decent chunk yourself, and taking a hot bath together at the end of the day is the thing you both need to decompress.

It always starts innocent with Thorin reclining with your back pressed against his chest. Thorin likes this position because he can hold you and has easy access to your body. Not necessarily for naughty reasons but just because he needs the intimacy of closeness. His arms are always around you, and he likes being able to keep you close. You like it as well because you can just float in the water while Thorin’s natural strength and weight keep you grounded against his body.

You are not allowed to wash yourself. Thorin enjoys doing that himself. He loves lathering up the soap and rubbing every inch of your body down before he even thinks about working on himself. Sometimes he doesn’t allow you to wash him, but when he’s feeling particularly playful, he does. It’s not submission but more of an acceptance. Thorin knows that you like to do this for him, and if he’s feeling indulgent, he’ll allow it.

During the time that the two of you scrub each other down, things can easily grow more intimate. The touches lengthen, becoming caresses. It’s always innocent at first before fingers and hands linger in certain spots, stimulating until someone gets off. Nothing about it is particularly mind blowing. Again, this is the beginning for after the bath, because afterward there is plenty that happens. This is more for fun and relaxation.

It doesn’t always happen but when it does, Thorin makes sure that you have yours first. He is entirely thoughtful about it, but doesn’t cease until he’s certain you’ve had enough. Sometimes he won’t even take anything for himself until the two of you are out of the bath and in bed.

Thorin loves to have wine or ale during this time. He might hand feed you if the two of you are hungry.

Sometimes, when the two of you are out of the bath and dried off, Thorin can’t make it to the bed and has to have you right then and there.

[ambitiouspotions]

KING & QUEEN | THORIN OAKENSHIELD | ONESHOT

summary — in which y/n greenhand, a hobbit, is betrothed to thorin oakenshield

word count — 2.2k

warnings — 18+ MDNI, smut

author’s note — the timeline may not be completely accurate, but it’s smut so you’re welcome.

the halls of erebor were replenished and repopulated. the mountain was how it was years before the ghastly beast, smaug's, unfortunate rule of terror and chaos. one little hobbit changed the course of history for a lineage of dwarves. although some dwarves were laid to rest after the battle of five armies, their home was reclaimed and now prosperous. the neighboring village of dale was also brought back to glory. each place was newly thriving and peaceful.

the king under the mountain, though permanently scarred and sporting a limp when walking, was healthy and more apt to appreciate life. this did not mean he lost his gruff demeanor or stubbornness, or even his sharp tongue, but maybe it stuck to him because of the loss of his nephews. thorin, three times a year, made trips to see his hobbit friend in the shire. though thorin found himself wanting to visit for a secondary reason to seeing mr. bilbo baggins. bilbo had acquired a housemaid, though she did much more than housekeeping. she tended the gardens, made all his meals, filled his smoking pipe, listened to his stories, organized his writing area, and even made good use of bilbo’s treasured artifacts by displaying them in his study room.

she was in her mid-thirties when bilbo returned on his unexpected journey; for a hobbit, she was just now considered to be an adult. she aided bilbo in placing his belongings back in his home when the other hobbits declared his death. oh, dear bilbo loved her company. she wouldn’t talk unless spoken to because she never wanted to ruin his thought process, and the moments he wanted to talk, she made wonderful and hearty conversation. the mighty and noble dwarven king could see his closed heart opening again when he visited the burglar of the company. she made tasty meals and the most comfortable sleeping arrangements. the night mr. baggins had company; she would stay the entire night to ensure everyone had what they needed. she was very attentive to her work, and maybe that was because bilbo paid her handsomely, or maybe it was because she truthfully had a passion for her work for the elder hobbit. the past ten years, not only was thorin writing to mr. baggins, but he was also corresponding with y/n greenhand, the attentive she-hobbit working for bilbo baggins.

y/n greenhand's family, in hint to their last name, grew the most gorgeous gardens in the shire. they were employed to fill every pot with their full and plentiful flowers and to spiffy the gardens of everyone without a green thumb. when y/n wasn’t with bilbo she was gardening with them. some flowers were even transported to different villages. bilbo was proud of his so-called housemaid. when he sat in front of his hobbit hole smoking his pipe, and a neighbor would greet him, he would proudly ask and proclaim, “and did you see my flowers this season? they are even more beautiful than the last. mmm yes, miss y/n planted them for me.”

thorin, on his first visit back to the shire, once his recovery was fully complete, suspected that bilbo had married, but the hobbit insisted he had no time to be attached to a particular someone. the dwarf was silently delighted to know bilbo didn’t take miss greenhand as a wife. she was well, very beautiful, and capable. capable must have been the right word. no other nonsense words would fall into thorin’s mind, well until he asked for her hand in marriage. and even that was another ten years before he stopped debating with the stubbornness inside of his aged mind. bilbo may have given thorin a push, but the dwarf would never admit to the truth behind that.

speaking of nonsense, the backstory of how thorin was stubborn is no new information. what is new information? the fact that is he a wonderful lover.

y/n laid her head back in the large wooden bathing tub, inhaling the steam that was rising from the water. she pushed a strand of loose hair that escaped her bun behind her slightly pointed ear. much like thorin, she had a full day of work at the kingdom tending to the children. even being a ruler still meant hard work, but y/n never cared much, seeing as she spent her life in the shire employed. thorin had been spending lots of his time in the mines, forging and hammering. he oversaw the production and efficiency of the dwarves. the trade of dwarven products continued to allow the kingdom to grow.

there was no knock as thorin entered, making y/n sink further into the bath water until noticing it was her beloved. her arms were crossed instinctively to cover her chest until the dwarf put his calloused hands on the edge of the tub. she ran her finger across his knuckles.

“still modest after all this time, my queen?” thorin asked, pressing his mouth to the top of her year when he spoke.

y/n gave a gentle chuckle. her hands were now pawing at his salt and peppered hair. many years ago, it wasn’t as grey as it once was, but thorin wore it gracefully. his beard was in matching fashion with the grey streaks.

“i have to leave something to mystery,” she leaned her head against his mouth, feeling a kiss being placed on her pointed ear.

“is it a mystery if i have it memorized?” he said coyly, reaching his hands into the water to move her hands away from her chest. his hands began massaging her shoulders, pushing his thumbs into any hard spots he felt to allow y/n to relax further.

y/n lifted her head and began to push herself out of the water. thorin backed up but offered his hand to help the hobbit out of the bathwater. he stared longingly at her, wanting to be greedy and consume all of her. he began pulling off his layers of cloaks and furs so he could match her splendor. his hands quickly found her waist, each of them having a bit of extra pudge from overindulging in drinks and food in celebration of their kingdom.

his rough beard rubbed across her cheek as her fingers lingered in his chest hair. he began kissing her jawline; the many times before that he had done this same action could never compare to redoing it each time they were intimate. he was breathing in her fresh scent of florals and bath milk that she had previously soaked in. occasionally, he would drag his tongue across her neck and lightly nip at it, causing y/n to bring herself closer to the dwarf.

her eyes were closed, already submitting to the king. it was easy to succumb to thorin when he had so much sex appeal. the way he moved his hands, hell, the way he stared was enough to make any woman crumble, but y/n was his lucky match. y/n grabbed his face when he continued his kisses past her shoulders. thorin understood this, immediately connecting their lips instead.

he pushed his hips against hers just to have contact with his significant other. y/n could feel thorin’s cock bulging as their kissing continued. before she knew it her back was hitting the soft furs on the bed. thorin was spreading her legs eagerly, his fingers dragging against her inner thigh as his mind was immersed in the beauty before him. y/n picked her head up excitedly, knowing the next step as she saw his fingers come closer to her heat. she bit the inside of her mouth still watching until he made eye contact.

“think i’ll do something wrong?” he questioned, spitting directly into her cunt. y/n leaned back, as though she hadn’t risen at all in the first place.

“of course not, just curious.” y/n said, her face flushing red as his fingers massaged the spit into her folds.

“curious? you don’t remember what happens next?” thorin asked, only pushing one finger inside. the hobbit swallowed her spit, not wanting to say a word. she only wanted what was next, what she knew was next.

“i seem to have forgotten.” he teased; another finger went inside. his working hands were so rough yet so delicate they knew how to please. as they moved back and forth slowly, y/n wiggled uncomfortably on the bed, wanting him to accelerate his movements. they then stopped.

“what am i supposed to do after my fingers were inside of you, darling?” thorin asked, now putting his fingers against her plump lips and asking for entrance. y/n took them in her mouth, allowing him to control the speed at which they slid back and forth. he placed his finger back against her lips to permit her to speak.

“you put your cock inside me.” y/n said. thorin was leaning over her, looking deeply into her eyes as she answered. he shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“wrong,” he stated, holding her chin tightly and going in for another kiss. y/n’s hands moved into his thick locks of hair and then to his erection. she was careful not to agitate the old, deep scar on his abdomen as she found her way to his shaft, but thorin stopped her. “what comes next?” he demanded, loosening her hair from the bun so he could later plan to grab it.

“you put your head between my legs,” she said, exhaling shakily. her mind was fuzzy only wanting her husband to get to his routine quickly so she could enjoy the pleasure he gave.

thorin gave a sly smirk, placing a single kiss on her lips and then making himself comfortable between her legs. his hands were gripping her waist, his elbows already in a position to open her legs if she were to shut them because she squirmed. he enjoyed himself each time he was feasting upon her womanhood. her wetness engulfing his taste buds and dripping down his beard was the right combination to give him satisfaction. messy good fun was had for thorin as he explored the cunt of his queen. lapping at her juices and suckling her clit to hear the moans spill from her mouth.

the moment thorin decided he was done he wiped his face on his hairy forearm and pulled her legs to his shoulders while inserting his shaft. y/n’s mouth was agape as the dwarven king entered her. that was never a feeling she would ever get used to. thorin was well endowed and knew the proper usage to send pleasure coursing through her body. y/n gripped his arms tightly as he thrust into her. filling every ounce of her being with his rock-hard erection was causing the bed to rattle as he moved. thorin was cursing under his breath about how tight the hobbit was. sweat was beading on his face as he continued to push into y/n. for a few moments, he would slow himself, his mind was begging him to press on, but his want for an orgasm was less than his need for pounding into his queen. the moment he started again, he stuffed a blanket under the small of her back; to raise her just a bit higher. he had known he had done right as the hobbit’s moans were louder and more high-pitched. as he pounded into her throbbing heat, she squirmed with a whiny moan, her juices squirting onto thorin’s lower abdomen and the sheets

he had a smirk on his face as he aided the woman in flipping over. he pushed her head into the wet sheets. y/n happily propping up her bottom for thorin to enter her open, dripping cunt again. the room began to smell sweaty as the two continued with their actions. thorin only now propped himself on his good knee for leverage, leaving the other side open for y/n to easily fall back onto his cock with every thrust.

y/n crumbled before the king, tears in her eyes as she shouted his name needily when climaxing. thorin wasn’t far behind as within a few moment he unraveled. a shockwave went through his body as he orgasmed. he threw his head back and caressed the hobbit’s plump ass that was still resting against his cock. with a deep exhale, thorin lay beside his queen and grabbed a fist full of her hair to kiss her once more. y/n did the same. they were entangled for a while, using a clean fur to cover their torsos if any member of the kingdom needed to call upon them while they were still indecent.

y/n leaned her head into the dwarven king’s chest and shut her eyes to relax, just as she was doing before in her floral milk bath. thorin inhaled her scent, now liking it more because he was mixed in with the scents of the earth.

“i could not possibly imagine having this kingdom without you,” thorin said, shutting his eyes and stroking the small of his queen’s back.

“and nor could i,” the hobbit said, kissing his pectoral and rubbing his thick dwarven chest hair again.

[vampyreelf]

It Has Always Been You

Summary: Thorin feels insecure but the two of you are able to resolve it.

Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral sex!

GIF on @ladyalatariel

All of your life you had been overlooked and judged too harshly, you were a dwarf, well half dwarf and and half human, your father met your mother in Gondor, he already had heirs and his wife has died so he allowed himself to fall in love with your mother, his previous marriage being one of convenience. But tragedy struck his household yet again, your mother has died giving birth to you, and your father has never been the same. Your father doted on you, too much according to your half siblings.

The disdain of you from your father’s subjects and family was apparent, you were more human than dwarf, no beard was the worst offense for everyone. Your half siblings bullied you until your father intervened, which made it worse every time. It was a miserable existence, your supposed family hated you, your half siblings resent you because your father declared many times that your mother was the love of his life, any hope you had of your siblings liking you, went out of the window that day.

Things got to a tipping point on your birthday, your father wanted a full feast and your half siblings were angry at you, as always. You begged your father not to bother about your birthday but he insisted on celebrating you, since it was what your mother would’ve wanted. The one thing that your family didn't understand is that your father didn't care about you either, you were just the reflection of your mother's ghost.

When your father started making a speech, celebrating you but most importantly your mother. Once he mentioned the great love he had for your mother was when your older brother, Farin got up in anger.

“I am tired of you and your SECOND wife.” Silence was deadly after he screamed at his own father, you could hear the fire crackling at the end of the hall. “When you die, she will be thrown out of the kingdom, so she can be with her actual family, LOOK AT HER.” The disdain on his face brought tears to your eyes. “Are you even sure she is your daughter?” Gasps could be heard all around the hall, and your father slapped him hard.

“You’re a fucking coward.” With that your father left, and all of your siblings looked at you in disgust, and now they would never speak with you again.

Now your father was aware of the hatred your siblings had for you, and he started looking for a marriage prospect for you, which angered your siblings even more. He hasn’t started looking for marriages for them, you were his number one priority. Which was how you were travelling to Erebor, to meet your potential betrothed, it was only you and your father.

“Why am I here, father? So can they reject me? Like all of the others?” Your father has offered your hand to most of the dwarf kingdoms, and one after the other you were refused, but apparently, the king under the mountain, Thrór was willing to marry you to his grandson, Thorin.

“King Thrór sent a response to the marriage betrothal, he is willing to marry Prince Thorin to you but not before seeing you, my love.” If you haven’t been humiliated all of your life by your family, that would give you optimism, but you were certain that the King of Erebor wanted to humiliate you in person.

Arriving in Erebor you saw all of the riches and how incredible the city was, everyone was happy and looking at you in curiosity, it was a welcomed change since at home, people looked at you in disgust. When you and your father got in the throne room, Thrór was on the throne with a smile on his face, Thráin was on his left side, and on his right side, your potential betrothed, Thorin. He was so handsome, as soon as his eyes landed on you, your face got hot, his stare was so intense and his face gave nothing away, did he like you? Was he disgusted by you? Was he even willing to marry you? You had no idea, and that gave you so much anxiety.

“King Thrór, it’s an honour to be here in your kingdom.” Your father brings you close and the three dwarves seem to be analysing you, in your best clothes you try to appear confident but it was hard under their watchful eyes. “My daughter, she’s my greatest joy and pride.” You tried not to grimace, your father is doing this for your mother, nothing else. Sometimes you wonder what your life would be like if your mother never died or if your father didn't love her as much.

“Lovely.” Is all the king says, and you take a deep breath, at least it wasn’t an insult. “Thorin, do you object to the marriage?” His grandfather asks, it seems that he wouldn’t have his grandson marrying someone he didn't want to marry at all.

“No, my king.” Again, his voice and expressions gave nothing away but his voice was deep, it sounded incredible.

“Wonderful, we will hold the wedding here, naturally.” The king declared and your father was relieved, you were going to be well taken care of. “The dowry can be paid in due time, of course.” Your father nodded his head, you have never seen him that happy. “Your daughter can stay here until the marriage takes place, her rooms will be ready soon.” Not having to go back to your half siblings was a relief, you planned on never seeing them again.

“I’ll show my bride the city.” Thorin speaks up and your eyes go to him, he was so handsome. Everyone nodded and he led the way for you, your father stayed behind to discuss the details of the betrothal.

“It’s really nice to meet you, my Prince.” Walking near him made your heart race, you never believed that you would ever marry but marrying a Prince and a handsome one at that was unbelievable. 

“I must say.” He looked at you, he had a smile on his face. “Your father paid a lot of money for this marriage, more money than it would be necessary for a Prince to marry a Princess such as yourself, I’d assume you would look like an orc.” The two of you started laughing, he made you feel comfortable, in a way you never felt before.

“If you asked my half siblings, they would say that I am.” Being honest with your future husband was the best policy, you assumed. “My mother was human.” Thorin nodded, explaining your unusual appearance. “My half siblings hate me because of that, and the fact that my father declared more than once she is the love of his life.” Thorin grabbed your hand gently, your heart stopped for a moment, a tender touch from someone that wasn’t your father was different, but so welcomed.

“I swear to you, no one will ever make you feel anything less than the beauty that you are.” From that moment on, you loved Thorin with all your heart, it was only him in your heart.

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

Your relationship with Thorin blossomed, he came to you every morning to have breakfast with you, he was so soft with you, or maybe you weren’t used to normal treatment from people. The wedding would take place in a month, and you couldn’t be happier, Dis made sure that you were welcomed in Erebor, she was a big sister that you always wanted.

Thorin made many things for you, necklaces, earrings, anything that makes you feel beautiful, since you got engaged to Thorin, your self esteem has been on the rise, being away from your toxic family and kingdom did wonders to you. Since you didn't want to not do anything, you decided to learn how to be a healer, so you became a great one, reading books from different peoples to learn more, even elvish ones, which Thorin didn't appreciate much but didn't fight you on.

One day everything changed, the dragon Smaug came and everything was gone. You helped the women and children to evacuate, Thorin went to fight with the army but it didn't work, you reunited with him and you made sure that no one was fatally wounded. After Erebor fell, Thorin barely spoke to you, he made sure to find jobs and to help his people but you? It seemed that he didn't have time for you, but now in the city of men, you decided to confront him.

“Thorin, please talk to me.” You begged with tears in your eyes, his silence and indifference was killing you, you could handle it from anyone else, not him, never him.

“What is there to talk about? Do you want my blessing to leave us?” He screamed at you and it physically hurt, he thought you would leave? That thought never crossed your mind, not even once.

“You think I would leave? Thorin, I want to be here, these people are my people now, you are my hus��” He hisses and you stop talking.

“We aren’t married, I’m not your husband and you’re not my wife.” He yells, the kind man you met in Erebor is gone but you know he’s still there somewhere.

“But I want to be.” He looks at you intently, seeing if he will find any signs of deceit in you, why would you want to marry him now that he doesn’t have anything to offer you anymore? “I want to be your wife, I want to be your One, Thorin.” You approach him, touching his cheeks and he visibly relaxes under your touch. “We can use the dowry money to help our people, but don’t send me away, I am yours.” He kissed you passionately, in a way he has never done before which caught you by surprise but you simply let it happen.

“You have no idea how much that makes me happy, I thought that on top of losing my home, I was going to lose you as well and I couldn’t bear it.” You smiled through your tears and so did Thorin.

“You will never lose me, my love.” He spinned you around, despite losing his home, Thorin has been this happy. 

From this day forward, Thorin confided in you about his fears, about his hatred of elves but mainly King Thranduil, but most importantly he vowed to you that he would claim back Erebor for you and your future children, he made this promise in bed after your wedding, which happened after you having to beg your father for the dowry. The money helped the people to settle in the blue mountains, Thorin still couldn’t believe that is what you insisted on the money to be used for, he knew he married his One, he knew it deep in his bones.

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

When the time came to reclaim Erebor, Thorin wanted you to stay with Dis, he didn't want you to get hurt but you reminded him that you are a healer and would be good to have you around if something happened. Thorin was so worried about you and if something happened to you, he would never forgive himself. But you didn't budge, you went to the Shire and met the burglar, Bilbo Baggins. He warmed up to you quite quickly, and you tried to make sure that Thorin treated him well.

Now all of you were in the Woodland Realm, the Mirkwood forest felt weird, you knew you were in trouble here. When the spiders attacked, it was a mess and you lost sight of Thorin, and you were all alone now. You were about to be killed by a spider when elves came and saved you, they looked at you and made sure you were okay.

“Thank you.” You tell the elf, you try not to draw too much attention to yourself now, if they are here, it means that elves also saved Thorin.

“Were you all alone in our forest?” He asked and you nodded, trying not to give too much information. “Well, the king will want to see you.” The elves guided you to their kingdom, they were treating you well, not like a prisoner.

One thing that you couldn’t deny was how breathtaking the castle was, it was grand, something that only elves could accomplish. The elves guided you to the throne room, and there he was, King Thranduil, he looked imposing in his throne but he was nothing compared to Thorin.

“What is a human doing all by herself in my lands?” He spoke up and it clicked, they all assumed you were human, not a dwarf.

“Well, I must’ve lost my way and ended up there. I meant no offense, my King.” You were always more diplomatic than Thorin, which is something that made you laugh many times of how quick he loses his temper.

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Thranduil got up from his throne to look at you again, a bit too close for comfort. “You look familiar, have we ever met before?” He was taking in your features, he probably has seen you in Erebor but you weren’t about to give that information.

“I highly doubt that, my King.” You kept looking down, to avoid him recognising you and it seemed that he was studying your face, too close for comfort but you couldn’t say anything.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you like.” That was when the guards came with Thorin and the company, but you could see that Bilbo was not with them. Thorin looked at you and he was relieved that you were alive, but annoyed that Thranduil was too close to you.

“Please, take our guest to one of our rooms. I have some business to attend to.” You looked at Thorin one last time but he didn't look at you, which made your heart hurt, why didn't he look at you?

Now you were in the room the elven king provided and you took that opportunity to look for Thorin and the company, and try to get out of here as soon as possible. You found them in the cells, Thorin was the first to see you but he didn't speak to you, that was when Bilbo came with the keys, you were able to get away from the woodland realm and into Bard’s house.

Thorin still hasn’t spoken to you, and it was eating you alive, why was he like this? Every time you tried to talk to your husband he had something to attend with Balin or even Bilbo, which made you angry.

“Thorin, may I speak with you?” Everyone looked at you, from your body language you weren’t really asking, but demanding. “In private.” He looked at you for a few moments, nodding his head, he followed you to the bedroom, which probably belonged to Bard.

“Thorin, my love…why are you treating me this way? What have I done?” You were desperate, his silence and rejection cut deeper than any blade ever made.

“I’ve seen you with him.” You furrowed your brows in confusion, you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Speak plainly, Thorin.” You touched his arm but he recoiled under your touch. “Please.” He could see that tears were threatening to spill out of your gorgeous eyes and he hated himself for it.

“Thranduil.” He whispered. “I saw the way he looked at you, the way he looked at you, he thought you to be human.” Thorin would never admit how insecure he felt about marrying you, every time another race saw you, they didn't think that you were a dwarf, they thought that you were better than dwarves, better than him. “He looked at you as if he was going to take you to his bed.” Thorin looked down, he hated himself for speaking of this to you and for feeling this way.

“I assure you, the only bed I ever want to be in is yours.” You got closer to him and grabbed his hands. “The only hands I want holding me are yours.” Touching his cheek softly, Thorin visibly relaxed under your touch. “You are my One, as I am yours. A thousand elves may die of old age before I look at anyone other than you, Thorin Oakenshield.” The two of you laughed and he kissed you, the kiss had so much hunger that it made you melt under him.

“You are perfect, my love. I am sorry to ever doubt you. Will you forgive me?” He started kissing your neck, hands around your waist, your breathing was more shallow now, your hands going to his hair.

“Only if you promise me to never do it again.” Thorin smiled and started removing your clothes, he took one of your nipples and put it on his mouth, his tongue making swirls on it, you started to moan and he put his hand over your mouth.

“You wouldn’t want the whole company to hear you, my love.” Thorin kissed your belly down to your pussy, he knelt in front of you, admiring your beauty, how wild your hair looked and plump your lips became from his kisses. Thorin put your legs on his shoulders and hoisted you up, your back against the wall, you had to stop yourself from screaming.

“Thorin.” You whispered, holding yourself. One arm on the wall and the other hand on his hair. He was eating you out as if he was a starved dwarf, his tongue on your clit, down to your pussy, you pulled his hair and you felt his grumbles right on your pussy, he was a dwarf on a mission. “You are insatiable, my love.” Whispering the words, trying to swallow your moans, biting your lips, while you can hear Thorin feasting on your juices, the noises were nothing short of pornographic but you loved every second of it.

“My beautiful wife, your nectar is irresistible.” Thorin smirked and went back to feasting on your pussy, he sucked on your clit and you drew blood by biting your lips to avoid making noise. You felt your orgasm approaching, but he didn't stop his ministrations, he wanted you to cum on his mouth.

“I’m close, my love.” With those words, Thorin sped up his ministrations and you bit your arm when you felt the white hot pleasure of your orgasm going through your veins, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, it was as if you had no control of your body.

“I love you so much.” After helping you ride out your orgasm, Thorin lowered you and you kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“It has always been you, my love. I love you too.” He kissed you again and his heart was happy.

[gwen-ever]

Chapter 2: Axe or Sword

Hello, my beloved hobbits! 💖 Another chapter is here, and oh boy, this one is something. But before you dive in, let’s stir the pot a little, shall we? 😏 What do you all think happened between Thorin and Geira in the past? I swear, Thorin is the king of emotional constipation, but Geira? She’s not exactly innocent here either! 😘 So, are we getting a heated argument, a moment of soft vulnerability, or both? Who knows, maybe something entirely unexpected will happen… 😏 Let me know your thoughts—I live for your wild guesses and theories! Now, go on, enjoy the chapter! 💕

Summary: When Smaug arrived, he not only killed the dwarves of Erebor, but he also destroyed the lives of the few who survived… whether he did it on purpose or not.After a hundred years, a part of Thorin’s past will come back to haunt him in the form of a dwarf who last knocks on the door of Bilbo Baggins’ house, resurrecting old grudges and the pain of a life no one wants to talk about. Geira, daughter of Geiri, is anything but an open book, an exiled who no one wants around, a warrior who has no one to fight for, but only an oath she must fulfil.

Relationships: Thorin x FemaleOC Rating: M Warnings: none. AO3 LINK: HERE

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

Sunlight filtered through the treetops, forcing Geira to close her eyes. The day had turned out warmer than expected, and despite it being early spring, her shirt clung to her back with every step of Rosalie, her pony.

“You’re not too warm, are you, under all that fur?” Geira asked, stroking the pony’s grey mane with her fingertips.

In response, Rosalie let out a soft whinny and twitched her ears, signalling that the summer heat was Geira’s problem, not hers.

Rosalie was a very calm pony, her temperament so steady that for a moment, Geira could almost forget the heavy atmosphere still hanging over the Company. The pony’s serene nature helped keep her from glancing too often towards the head of the column.

From the rear, she could see every dwarf in the Company.

Occasionally, Balin would pull out a piece of parchment from his bag, examining it through his small golden monocle. 

Just as the years had passed for Geira, they had passed for everyone else. 

The only difference was that they had someone to remember them.

“My hobbit back isn’t exactly suited to long rides, and neither are my poor legs!”

Bilbo’s voice rose above the birdsong around them, snapping Geira out of her foolish, childish thoughts.

She cast a glance at the two horses trailing behind Gloin at the column’s forefront, her eyes landing on the hobbit, who was pressing one of his hands against his lower back.

“Oh, dear Bilbo, you have a long journey ahead of you. Make yourself comfortable and enjoy the wide horizon!” Gandalf sang, gesturing ahead with his staff.

“The very thought of standing is agony for my shoulders,” Bilbo shot back, craning his neck backwards. “I should have brought a cushion!”

“You’re right, Master Bilbo,” Dori agreed from directly behind him. “This saddle’s harder than the marble floors of the Emeralds’s Marketplace in Nogrod,” he grumbled, trying to shift into a better position.

“With this heat, brother, I’d much prefer a frosty golden ale from old Olaf’s tavern. Maybe two, if that thick-skulled dwarf would take copper coins for once!” Nori dreamily replied, leaning his neck back against the horse.

“ Kann barathgalt i’zuhu! ”

Bombur nodded, glancing over at his cousin seated just in front of him. “You’re right, cousin, that wouldn’t be half bad right about now!”

Despite the small talk, which briefly distracted her, Geira noticed Bilbo shifting and moving restlessly, still ignoring Gandalf’s advice. She barely managed to stifle a sour smile when she heard his neck crack yet again. And just as on the nights before, she felt a hidden side of herself ignite—one she hadn’t allowed to surface for years.

“Straighten up your back, Bilbo!” she called from the rear of the line, catching not only his attention but also that of several dwarves, shocked to hear her speak.

“W-what?” Bilbo asked, craning his neck to peer through three rows of dwarves to find her.

“Your back—keep it straight,” she repeated, tilting her head to the right so she could look him in the eye. “Otherwise, by the end of the day, you’ll feel like a pack mule if you keep hunching forward!”

Bilbo said nothing, merely furrowing his blonde brows as he turned around. Suddenly, he straightened his back, tilted his neck, and extended both arms forward in the most awkward posture imaginable.

Geira gave Rosalie a gentle nudge with her heels, urging the pony to pick up her trot. Quickening her pace, she wove past the dwarves until she reached Bilbo’s side.

“Like this—see?” she asked, keeping pace with him and demonstrating the correct posture by gesturing with her chin towards the alignment of her back. “Head and neck upright, arms in front of you,” she explained with a smile, ensuring her upper body was as straight as possible for him to mimic.

Bilbo gave her a confused look. “Well...” he began, examining his arms and locking his elbows slightly. Then, he straightened his back, lifting his chin high enough to see the sky but still low enough to look at the ground if needed.

“Like this?” he asked, holding the position.

She nodded approvingly. “Exactly.”

“Well, it’s not comfortable at all!”

“It’s not comfortable now,” she explained. “But you’ll thank me later, Master Baggins, when your bones aren’t cracking like broken branches.”

She swore she saw a faint blush form beneath his golden sideburns on his beardless cheeks. “Oh, well, I... thank you...” he stammered, embarrassed, but he maintained his posture.

She smiled again before turning her gaze back to the green hills just beginning to emerge beyond the dense oak grove that surrounded them.

“How much have you travelled? If I may ask?” Bilbo suddenly asked, his tone visibly curious.

The question made her lips part slightly.

How much had she travelled?

How long had she been making the same simple motions without even realising it? How many ponies  that didn’t belong to her had she ridden? How long had she been wandering, not at the orders of a king, but simply because she couldn’t stay still? Too long.

The impulse to retreat to the rear of the line struck her again, as did the urge to leave Bilbo’s question unanswered. But she found a shred of strength when she saw the hope in the hobbit’s eyes.

“Enough to know how not to exhaust yourself after a day’s ride,” she answered quickly, unwilling to elaborate.

“With men, I suppose? I can smell them on you since last night,” growled Dwalin’s voice from behind, sending a chill down her spine and up, all the way to the tips of her hair.

She bit her tongue to keep from snapping back.

Turning her head slightly, she met the stern, shadowed face of the warrior dwarf. His dark brows were furrowed, a scar arching downward through one of them. His thick black beard barely hid his scowling mouth.

As the night before, she couldn’t help but want to rip that grimace off his face with her bare hands.

“Most of them, yes—men. They pay well,” she replied, shooting him a sharp look before turning forward again.

“They paid for that fine bow, I suppose, and that coat of yours as well,” Dwalin continued sarcastically, making her grip the pony’s reins tighter in her hands.

“They pay me well, Master Dwalin. Well enough to survive without asking too many questions about me,” she retorted, keeping her voice calm as her gaze drifted to the bow hanging at the pony’s side. Its pale wood made it clear it hadn’t been crafted by her kin.

And how could it have been? She hadn’t spoken to a dwarf in nearly a century and a half, and Dwalin knew it—he knew it all too well.

“Because if they asked, they’d know you’d turn your back on them the moment you got a better offer. That’s why you don’t want them knowing who you are?” he spat angrily. The dwarf quickened his trot to come alongside her. “Maybe it’s because they’d find out why a dwarf warrior roams the Wild Lands alone?” he taunted.

“When they start asking questions, I move to another settlement,” she replied quickly. “I trade my weapons for a roof over my head. Isn’t that what you do? The last time I saw you, you were escorting their caravans from east to west. I just get paid to fight for them,” she reminded him, throwing him a sharp glance.

“That’s not the same thing,” Dwalin growled.

“Oh, it’s not? So that coat wasn’t paid for with their gold, was it? Or those boots? And you didn’t pay the smith with their silver coins, did you?” she shot back, turning her head fully towards Dwalin.

Dwalin’s brows furrowed deeply, his eyes blazing with pure fury. Before she realised it, he surged forward and tugged on her pony’s reins, forcing her to stop and nearly crashing into him.

Bilbo flinched slightly beside her as Dwalin stopped them both in their tracks, glaring at her as if she were an orc with a mouthful of blood.

“We do it to help our people—you do it for yourself!” he spat in disgust. “You’ve always done everything for yourself! You’ve never cared about your people! You’ve no right to speak of us!” he shouted at her, his rage boiling over.

Each word struck through the iron armour Geira had built around her chest, around those memories.

She could feel her blood boiling in her veins and her hands tingling with the temptation to grab her sword and hold it to the dwarf’s neck, forcing him to take back every word.

He knew nothing. Nothing!

“Don’t you dare, Dwalin, speak of my life as though you know it, as though you’ve ever known it!” she hissed.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. The birds had stopped singing, and the warmth around her had been replaced by an icy chill. No one in the Company dared speak or even breathe.

Dwalin clenched his jaw, leaning in closer to her. “What I do know is that you’re a traitor, filth who can’t make amends even with her hair shorn short. You—filthy—”

“Did I ever tell ya I used to own a goat named Rind?”

Bofur’s voice broke through the ranks, interrupting Dwalin’s words. “She was all white with a black mark shaped like a crescent moon over her left eye,” he continued from the back of the line, chuckling softly.

Geira didn’t turn, but she heard the birdsong resume, the warmth return, and a series of grunts rising from the rear of the column.

It was as if the entire world had started breathing again, yet she still felt the world behind her burning.

She continued locking eyes with Dwalin, and in his green eyes, she saw unspoken words hanging heavy.

Can you ever make amends for what you’ve done to him?

And what did he do to me?

She wanted to answer him, but Bofur had decided this was a conversation that shouldn’t take place—and perhaps, for now, it was better that way.

The ponies resumed their trot, leaving only her and Dwalin in the middle of the path. Several seconds passed before Dwalin, with an irritated glance, tugged his horse around and rode ahead, leaving her behind.

When his gaze left hers, she exhaled a heavy sigh, trying to ignore the confused and worried look Bilbo cast her way as he passed.

“…She used to sleep under me bed, y’know. Did I ever tell ya about the time I came home and found half of me furniture covered in her slobber?” Bofur’s cheerful voice reached her ears again, along with the inevitable groans that followed.

“Oh, in Durin’s name, Bofur, not again...” Nori muttered.

“So one day I went to the workshop, like I do every day, and I bought some cheese and milk for the next day...”

Geira didn’t hear the rest of the story as she stood motionless, letting the entire caravan of dwarves pass by.

It wasn’t until Fili and Kili passed her that she raised her gaze again, and her breath caught in her throat.

Thorin remained as still as she was in the middle of the path, letting the rest of the Company move on while he stayed behind, watching her with an unreadable expression. 

They both stood in silence, neither of them speaking, as though Thorin’s silence was shouting at her.

And yet, it was only at that moment, hidden from the eyes of all, that she finally took a proper look at him and noticed how much he had... aged.

Thorin’s black hair had lightened, streaked with silver strands. His once-soft profile had sharpened like a blade, a myriad of fine wrinkles adding to his regal bearing in a way that hadn’t been there 120 years ago.

Yet all she felt looking at him was unease and anger—too much anger.

Only when he turned and resumed riding, his back to her, did Geira force herself to remember why she was there. All she needed to do in this place was complete her mission.

She just had to not even look him in the face.

Geira dropped her sword and stretched, raising her arms and glancing around the rocky outcrop where they had found shelter for the night. The site was surrounded by small hills covered in fir trees and evergreens.

The iron pot was already over the fire, and the typical pile of blankets and backpacks lay scattered nearby. In a few hours, they would be claimed by the luckiest among them, those who had managed to dismount their ponies and toss their belongings to the ground before the others.

The two brothers, Bombur and Bofur, were hunched over the copper pot from which a mouth-watering aroma emanated, instantly awakening her appetite; she hadn't eaten a thing since that morning.

She glanced around, searching for Gandalf, who was sitting by the fire, puffing on his pipe and listening to Dori. Dori, the eldest of Nori and Ori's brothers, was chatting idly, mostly complaining about Nori's inefficiency. Gloin and Oin were busy cleaning themselves up, while Fili and Kili were already chuckling quietly.

The only one excluded from that joy seemed to be her.

Her argument with Dwalin that morning appeared to have left no impression on anyone—and why should it? It was Dwalin’s problem, and more precisely, her problem. She certainly didn’t expect anyone to say a word; they hadn’t even looked her in the face, and she definitely wasn’t going to start a conversation.

Grumbling at the slight soreness in her thighs caused by hours of riding, she tried to follow the others' example. She knelt on the ground and pulled out her bedroll from her bag, unfurling it  in front of her with a single motion.

"Pick a spot to sleep; Nori, gather the ponies while Bombur finishes cooking," Thorin ordered as he strode through the small campsite, his satchel slung over one shoulder and his sword firmly gripped in hand.

Nori nodded in approval before getting to his feet, brushing his hands against his jacket, ready to carry out his leader's command without question.

She caught Thorin in the corner of her eye as he arranged his things on the opposite side of the campfire from her. She knew it wasn’t a coincidence.

"Master Baggins, mind you don’t lean too far over," Thorin called sharply, addressing an unseen point behind her.

It was only then that she noticed Bilbo standing at the cliff’s edge, hands clasped behind his back, gazing downward. At the sound of Thorin’s voice, the hobbit’s pointed ears seemed to perk up, and with two slow steps, he moved away from the precipice, nodding at the dwarf as he did.

Oin was standing next to him, peering over the cliff with his ear trumpet in hand. "It’s quite the drop, my boy—are you sure you fancy tumbling off this cliff?" he asked dryly.

Bilbo began shaking his head, raising a finger to object, but before he could respond, Nori approached, leading two ponies by their reins.

"We could always send Bombur to fetch him," Nori said with a chuckle.

"And then who’ll fetch Bombur?" Gloin retorted, sparking a round of laughter in which even Bombur himself joined.

Bilbo remained silent, staring into the void, his small hands restlessly fidgeting.

She pushed herself off the ground and approached Bilbo, who still had his back to her. Passing the blazing fire, she ignored Dwalin's gaze as he rose from his bedroll to tend to the pot brimming with food.

"How’s your back?" she asked Bilbo, folding her arms across her chest.

The hobbit startled slightly, stammering nervously. "Ehmm, it’s—fine, really. I thought it would be much worse."

She nodded, moving to stand beside him near the ledge. "I told you, even the leg pain will ease over time," she said, referring to her own aches, which continued to cause mild spasms in her thighs.

Bilbo glanced around briefly before leaning closer, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Sleeping like this won’t help the pain at all," he said.

"Not at all, but it’s something you get used to," she replied with unvarnished honesty.

Just like the night before and the morning of that same day, she felt as light as a flower petal and as vulnerable as a child.

She knew what was going through his mind and envied Bilbo—deeply and shamefully, but she envied him.

That fear, that yearning to leap into the unknown and never look back.

It had been her dream, always her dream since she was young: to be free, to wander through the forests and valleys of Middle-earth, to gaze at the stars in the night while lying on the grass, to watch the snow falling and glistening in the twilight, and to feel the wind tousling her hair as she twirled her sword in the air. That had been her dream, until loyalty had triumphed over her desires and selfishness, until that same loyalty had taken everything away from her and condemned her to solitude.

Until her oaths, her devotion to what she loved and deemed right, had left her living as an outcast, accepting everything she once desired—but alone.

"It's so beautiful…" Bilbo exclaimed after a long pause, snapping her out of her dark and sorrowful thoughts. "But it's a beauty that fills me with a fear I've never felt before," he admitted, stammering with embarrassment while continuing to gaze at the horizon.

Geira nodded and looked at the mountain ridges, observing how they overlapped to form a small wall that blended with the wisps of clouds above them, tinged pink and lilac by the sunset's end. The evening breeze caressed her face, brushing strands of brown hair behind her ear and under the red shirt she was wearing.

She closed her eyes, savouring this brief moment of peace she hadn’t granted herself in ages.

"My aunt always used to say that the fear of the unknown is simply your body asking you to explore it," she murmured under her breath.

Bilbo drew a small breath, letting out a soft chuckle. "Your aunt sounds fascinating."

"She was… fascinating, I suppose you could say," she replied absentmindedly, unable to hide a thread of melancholy in her voice.

Bilbo’s green eyes widened slightly, and his mouth turned downwards at this realisation.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t…"

"Don’t be," she interrupted. "She left this world on her own terms, just as she always wanted. She gave her life for someone she cared deeply about."

"Your uncle?" he asked, curious.

Geira lowered her gaze slightly and glanced over her shoulder at the sword resting a short distance away from her, following its rigid lines, the black and golden engravings along the blade.

"Something like that, Master Hobbit," she replied curtly.

Before Bilbo could respond, two bowls entered their line of sight, interrupting their conversation: Bofur stood beside them, holding out the two dishes with an excited flourish and a huge grin peeking out from under his comical black moustache.

"And these last ones are for you two!" he exclaimed, extending his arms wider towards them.

Geira took the wooden bowl filled with hot stew and thanked him with a slight nod, to which the dwarf responded with a small tip of his hat before turning to Bilbo, who had taken the bowl in his hands, turning it around in his palms.

"What is it?" Bilbo asked, gesturing to the stew.

"Venison stew with carrots and celery, the finest stew east of Eriador!" Bofur proclaimed confidently, planting his fists on his hips. "Go on, have a taste," he urged, gesturing at Bilbo’s bowl and spoon before shifting his gaze to her. "Ya too! Don’t be shy!"

She couldn’t help but hide her surprise at the gesture, flinching slightly and looking at the dwarf with a touch of confusion. But he was undeterred, repeatedly glancing from the bowl to her.

"Come on, I want to know what ya think!"

She smiled and grasped the spoon in her fingers, scooping a piece of stew and bringing it to her mouth. As soon as it touched her palate, it melted instantly and slid down her throat without needing to chew.

Oh yes, it was probably the finest stew she’d ever tasted in all of Eriador.

She might have let out a small moan, quickly stifled with her hand, but the dwarf noticed and laughed softly.

"Told ya," Bofur said cheerfully. "It would’ve been divine with potatoes and dark ale!"

Geira took another bite, savouring the warm meal, satisfying her stomach’s demands and her palate. 

Yes, Bofur was right—if she had a good mug of ale, this stew would have been worthy of a royal banquet.

She could even picture it if she squinted: the coloured fabrics adorning the ceiling, the bonfire in the centre of the hall, the shouts, the music, the dances—all things she hadn’t seen or experienced in a long time.

Suddenly, a low growl distracted Bofur, who gestured towards the blazing fire and Bombur, who, with his plate still full, was heading back to the pot..

"In Durin’s name!" Bofur muttered under his breath before spinning on his heel and marching towards the fire. "Bombur, stop that! That’s for everyone, you daft lump!" he scolded, throwing his arms in the air.

Bilbo chuckled quietly beside her before resuming his meal, tearing his gaze away from the now starry horizon.

She, however, stayed and watched the scene unfold before her: Bombur darted back and forth, trying to dodge his brother’s grasp while attempting to dip his spoon into the pot. Meanwhile, Bofur, amidst a chorus of background laughter and genuine shouts betting on one of the two, chased him around the fire. What had just happened was strange—very strange—but she had to admit, it was pleasant. She never would have expected such a gesture under the eyes of everyone from a dwarf she barely knew. Twice in one day, Bofur had shown her the bare minimum of kindness due to any living being. And yet, she marvelled, as if a dwarf talking to her was a rare or even impossible event—although it was rare and impossible.

"Thank you, thank you so much," Bilbo's voice drew her attention.

Geira turned to look at him, noticing how he was gazing at her with a friendly, faint smile on his bearded lips.

Confused, she tilted her head slightly. "For what? There’s nothing you need to thank me for," she said.

The hobbit shook his head, raising a hand to stop her. "I thank you, Geira, daughter of Geiri, for helping me," he whispered.

Geira shivered slightly, doing her best to conceal what a simple thank you had stirred within her. She offered him a sweet smile, lowering her head to hide how much it was widening.

Perhaps kindness towards her was no longer such a rare and impossible occurrence.

Soon enough, more or less everyone had devoured every single morsel of stew from the pot. The echoes of laughter and the background chatter had faded completely, leaving only the howling wind through the trees and the faint crackle of the fire, interspersed with the light snores of the dwarves huddled around it.

The light chill in the air had intensified and sharpened, enough to make Geira curl up against the rocky wall and wrap the cloak she had loathed that morning tightly around her shoulders.

In Durin’s name, she absolutely needed a smoke! Perhaps it would clear her head enough to let her sleep, at least for a couple of hours.

She sat up, pulling the fur blanket along with her, and began rummaging through the bag next to her. She pulled out her pouch of tobacco and the pipe within it. Squinting, she leaned her back against the rock, feeling her leg muscles begging for mercy.

She opened the pouch, inspecting the finely shredded orange and brown leaves. She then searched her pack again, muttering in frustration. Damn!

She opened it wide but found nothing at all: her pipe cleaner was missing. She had used it the last time she smoked… on Bilbo’s bench.

She brought both hands to her face, shaking her head. Things were going from bad to worse. Her flint and steel were miles away, probably never to be seen again, and now she was stuck with a clogged pipe and stale tobacco from the entire journey.

She turned the pipe over in her hands before glancing toward Fili and Kili, who, thank Mahal, were still awake. Kili, in particular, was cleaning his pipe with a pipe cleaner—so they had one.

Even though the idea of talking to either of them was far from appealing, she had to ask for the favour. Her sanity depended on it.

"Kili?" she called softly, leaning toward the fire.

The young dwarf stopped cleaning his pipe and looked at her, tilting his head to the side, waiting for her to continue.

"Could you lend me your pipe cleaner, please? I… I don’t have one, unfortunately," she asked, holding up her pipe to show him.

Kili looked at the pipe, then at his brother seated beside him, giving him a small nudge on the shoulder to grab his attention, making the gold embroidery of his blue shirt catch the firelight. "My pipe cleaner, you say?" he asked, dangling the small wooden object teasingly in front of her face.

Children.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she nodded. "Yes, your pipe cleaner, Prince Kili."

Kili’s grin widened even more, and with a swift movement, he closed his hand around the pipe cleaner and hid it behind his back in mockery, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on her.

"Only if you come here and smoke with us!"

She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes—after all, she had asked for it.

"Kili…" she muttered, sighing.

"Forget it then!" he cut her off, slowly raising himself to his feet and hiding the cleaner even further behind his back.

Reluctantly, she sighed heavily, placing the pipe stem in her mouth. Using both hands for support, she moved closer to the fire, taking a seat not far from Fili, who was watching her with satisfaction. Picking up her pipe again, she extended her other hand toward Kili, who still had the cleaner tucked behind him.

"May I borrow your pipe cleaner, Kili?" she asked, observing how the younger prince’s bright eyes lit up slightly.

He smiled at her and handed over the small wooden tool, but suddenly jerked it back at the last moment, making her flinch and start to lose her patience.

Now she was certain—they were the princess’s children. That insistent, mischievous character could only be inherited from her.

"How old are you?" Kili asked slyly, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward her.

"You talk too much for my liking, young prince," she replied sharply.

"I’m curious as well, to be honest," Fili chimed in, exhaling a puff of white smoke from his pipe into the air as he watched her from above. "I’d like to know how old you are."

This was becoming blackmail, and she’d had enough of Durin’s sons mocking and teasing her all day. She was too tired—too tired even to be angry, or to stand up and snatch the cleaner from Kili’s hands.

"I don’t want to smoke anymore," she declared, raising both hands in surrender, preparing to return to her resting place.

"Oh, come on," Kili interrupted, raising his voice slightly and earning a glare from Fili. "Just answer the question, and I’ll give it to you!"

"I don’t want to answer that question."

"And why not?" Fili asked this time, ignoring her refusal. He gripped his pipe tightly between his fingers. "Either you’re really old, or you’re really young and you’ve tricked us. Is your age such a big secret?"

That simple sentence silenced her and made her heart pound, confronting her with the truth: was she truly afraid of them knowing?

They weren’t fools. They had seen the engraving on her sword, and perhaps now all they needed was the final piece of the puzzle to confirm their suspicions. Then they, too, would view her as others had—a traitor, without knowing her side of the truth.

Fili remained silent for a long time, studying her face, illuminated by the interplay of orange light and shadow created by the fire. "How old are you?" he finally asked bluntly, removing the pipe from his mouth.

"One hundred and ninety-one," she replied just as swiftly, turning toward him and locking eyes with the piercing blue gaze so typical of his lineage, awaiting his reaction.

She waited in silence, bracing herself for judgment, a word, or even a glance toward her sword, still resting nearby against the rocky wall. But nothing came.

Fili and Kili exchanged sidelong glances, speaking to each other in a way she couldn’t hear. After a few looks and subtle nods, the dark-haired dwarf finally unclasped his hands.

"Seems fair to me!" Kili exclaimed, tossing the cleaner into her hand with a cheeky grin.

Geira took it with resignation and sighed, finally beginning to clean her pipe while leaning her back against the rough but warm stone of the small bay.

Suddenly, a sharp cry echoed through the darkness of the night, sending chills racing down her spine and raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Geira clenched her hands and quickly sat up straight, scanning the dark landscape before her and the thin veil of mist settling over the mountains.

"What was that?"

It was only when she heard Bilbo's voice that her focus shifted from the shadowy horizon to the hobbit, who was moving towards them, pointing nervously over his shoulder.

She was about to answer, setting the pipe and cleaner aside, but someone beat her to it.

"Orcs," Kili said, his expression serious and concerned.

"Orcs?!" Bilbo repeated, quickening his pace towards them.

"Throat-cutters. There’ll be dozens of them out there," Fili added, puffing on his pipe and lowering his voice dramatically. "The Wilds are crawling with them."

Bilbo’s eyes widened.

"They strike in the dead of night, when everyone’s asleep. Swift and silent, no screams. Only blood," Kili concluded, lowering his voice even further while theatrically glancing around.

But Bilbo, evidently missing the irony, gaped in terror, glancing over his shoulder while the two brothers began to snicker, their gazes falling to the ground as they gave each other playful nudges.

If their goal was to terrify Bilbo for weeks, they had succeeded.

Geira let out a heavy sigh, fixing the two brothers with a piercing glare as they continued chuckling under their breath.

"Don’t you…" she began.

"Do you think this is funny?"

Geira stiffened when she recognised Thorin's voice, cutting through the air with anger. Rising from his seat to pose the question, he now towered over the two princes. Previously sitting apart, he now loomed over them not far from her. His sharp profile cut through the firelight as he advanced, still glaring at the princes.

"Do you think a night raid by orcs is a joke?" he asked again, his voice gravelly.

Kili lowered his gaze in guilt. "We didn’t mean anything by it," he murmured weakly.

"No you didn’t!" Thorin barked. "You know nothing of the world!"

Geira gripped her pipe tightly in her hand, her body tensing immediately upon hearing those words. But even just hearing his voice angered her so much that she continued to follow him with her eyes, watching as he turned his back and strode heavily towards the edge of the rock, which overlooked a steep drop.

"Don’t mind him, laddie," Balin interjected this time. Geira lifted her gaze slightly as she noticed the elder dwarf approaching the fire, his hands clasped behind his back. He was addressing Kili directly. "Thorin has more reason than most to hate the orcs," he continued, leaning an arm against the stones behind him.

Geira noticed Bilbo watching the older dwarf in confusion, while she knew exactly what he was referring to.

"After the dragon claimed the Lonely Mountain, King Thror sought to reclaim the ancient kingdom of Moria…"

Upon hearing those words, Geira’s grip on the pipe tightened as memories came flooding back—stories told by travellers, passed from man to man, from merchant to merchant, over the years. Tales of death, despair, and everything that had afflicted her people, all of which she had only heard about second-hand because she hadn’t been allowed to take part. She had been forbidden to save her people or reclaim her ancestral home, where she would never set foot again.

In an instant, the meadow before her transformed into dust. Her hands no longer gripped a pipe but the hilt of a sword. Her face was not streaked with sweat but smeared with drops of enemy blood. In an instant, she was transported—thanks to Balin’s words—100 years into the past.

"But our enemy got there first."

"Moria had been overrun by legions of orcs, led by the most vile of their kind: Azog the Defiler."

From the mass of bodies and swords emerged a white orc. Swinging his mace rhythmically, he easily swept aside every warrior in front of his fur-covered eyes. Commands in the Black Speech spilled from his mouth like the darkest of curses as he slaughtered anyone in his path.

"For years, he prowled those corridors, turning those mines into his lair. He knew that if he wanted complete control, he needed to make one final move. The great orc of Gundabad had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin," Balin said.

Amidst the smoke and flames of the pyres emerged four figures, each close to the other, covering each other’s backs. King Thror, with his gleaming crown, advanced through the ranks of orcs. Prince Thrain blocked arrows or blows aimed at his father, covered in blood from head to toe. And behind him… Thorin. Sword in hand, shouting and protecting his younger brother from every danger, while the dark eyes of Frerin glistened with tears.

"It began… with the beheading of the king," Balin continued.

Geira clenched her teeth.

My aunt gave her life to protect someone she was deeply devoted to.

But she wasn’t there when she was needed once more.

Thror’s glittering crown fell to the ground, into the mud and filth, as his head was raised high in the orc’s fist—a grim trophy of victory over the dwarves.

"Prince Frerin charged the orc alone, but he was slaughtered before he could even reach him."

Geira felt a sharp pang in her chest as the scene playing in her mind dissolved. She raised her gaze to Balin, who continued speaking to Bilbo, his eyes veiled with grief.

Frerin… was… dead?

In a flash, she lowered her gaze in disbelief, then lifted her eyes back to Thorin, watching his silhouette bend forward against the night.

Frerin had died at Azanulbizar, and she hadn’t known. She had never known. For all these years, she had believed he was safe with his family—with his brother, his sister, his father—but he was gone.

"Driven by grief, Thrain, Thorin’s father, led a charge towards the Dimrill Gate. It was a slaughter."

A line of dwarves broke away from the rest of the army, raising their shields high to create a passage through the orcs. They ran relentlessly, cutting down every enemy in their path. But with every orc they killed, three more fell from their own ranks. By the time they reached the gate, less than half of them remained.

"Thrain was driven mad by his sorrow. He vanished—whether taken prisoner or slain, we did not know. We were leaderless."

At those words, Geira’s thoughts turned to one person and one alone. Her heart began to race in her chest. She could picture the figure clearly: a line of silver amulets and long blue cloaks, one darker than the others, streaked with black iron veins. A square circlet on the forehead held back a long, blonde braid.

No, it couldn’t be true.

"Herja?" she whispered, raising her gaze to Balin.

The old dwarf nodded silently, looking at her as one might look at a wounded animal.

She immediately cast her gaze downward, clutching her cloak tightly around her shoulders. In that moment, everything became clear: this was why Fili and Kili knew nothing. This was why Gandalf had called on her, and not someone else.

If Thrain had disappeared, Herja was dead. Her aunt was dead. She was… the last one left.

"Our defeat and deaths were inevitable, but it was then that I saw him—a young dwarven prince—facing the pale orc."

On his knees, Thorin rose from the ground, his teeth gritted. His black hair clung to his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. But in the depths of his blue eyes, there was no fear—only rage, honour, and vengeance. A vengeance that burned with pride, the spirit of his ancestors filling his body and taking over, making him stronger than any earthly calamity.

"He was alone, facing this terrible foe."

Through the mist, Thorin leapt at the massive orc, sword drawn, and began fighting with all his might, shouting from the depths of his chest. She could see him struggling to strike, limping, hunched under the orc’s powerful blows. Yet every time he was knocked to the ground, he rose again.

"His armour was torn, and he wielded only an oaken branch as a shield."

Thorin’s hand reached for the branch lying on the ground and seized it, shielding himself from the relentless force of the orc’s strikes. She could hear his cries and groans as the bones in his arm fractured.

"Ready to make the ultimate sacrifice for his people."

More real than ever, she saw Thorin kneeling, blood on his face and dripping from his mouth. Groaning in pain, he fought on, shielding the front lines behind him and allowing them to advance towards the main gate.

"Azog the Defiler learned that day that the line of Durin would not be broken so easily."

Thorin let out a piercing battle cry, summoning the last of his strength to sever the pale orc’s arm completely. Black blood sprayed across his face as the orc collapsed in agony, falling to his knees before the triumphant dwarf prince.

"Our forces rallied and drove back the orcs. Our enemy was defeated."

The dwarves behind Thorin stared in awe, inspired by the final act of strength from the son of Durin, who stood tall, mighty, and legendary on the hill before their ancestral home. He shone like the Seventh Star, unstoppable as Mahal’s hammer on the anvil. He was the king of all dwarves, the lord of all the Children of Aulë.

Victory was theirs.

"But that night, there was no celebration, no songs, for our dead were beyond counting. We, the few, had survived."

And yet, amidst the joy, the bodies of the fallen remained fallen. The pyres continued to burn, and Frerin’s body lay lifeless on the ground, beside his grandfather’s shattered armour. Warriors clung to each other, foreheads pressed together, doubled over with grief. The bloodshed had given way to tears and the relentless awareness that the massacre of that day would echo through all the ages to come.

"And it was then that I thought: there is someone I could follow. There is someone I could call king," Balin declared, his tone filled with hope and love.

Only then did Geira raise her gaze and realise that the rest of the company had awakened. Now, they were staring at Thorin with wide eyes. Some placed a hand on their chest, while others simply remained silent, admiring their… king. She, however, felt an abyss open beneath her, swallowing her whole as Thorin turned, silently observing all his companions—except her.

Geira lowered her head, hiding her face as a storm of conflicting emotions rose in her chest: pain, anger, pride, and guilt, all consuming her like a fire.

"And what of the pale orc? What happened to him?" Bilbo asked curiously, drawing his knees to his chest.

"He crawled back into the hole he came from!" Thorin growled, striding back towards the fire, his heavy steps grinding into the dirt. "That filth died of his wounds long ago and he will not return," he said.

Dead.

Geira stiffened at the certainty with which Thorin had spoken. Among the villages of Men, in recent years, there were whispers of a massive white orc, of wargs and orcs pillaging every settlement they came across, leaving only bones and ashes in their wake.

In the silence, she glanced at Gandalf, who was watching Thorin with a frown. Thorin didn’t know. And no one had had the courage to tell him.

Another battle was raging within her: it was essential to tell him, it was only right that Thorin knew. But was it her place to do so? And why? Why should it fall to her? His companions ought to take care of him, just as he had taken care of them. She owed him nothing.

And besides, he wouldn’t believe her. He would shout at her, call her a liar.

Biting her trembling lip, she finally let the words escape, carried by something she couldn’t quite define.

"There are rumours in the East that say otherwise," she muttered, fixing her gaze on her black boots, avoiding meeting the dwarf's gaze, which now bore down on her again.

"No one asked for your input in this conversation or your opinion," Thorin replied coldly, turning towards her bed with a harsh glare that, if it could, would have set her aflame on the spot.

"I don’t need to be included in the conversation to dispel one of your certainties!" she retorted, the first stirrings of anger rising in her chest.

"My certainty?" he scoffed, stepping slowly towards the fire. "I watched it happen before my eyes. I was there while they massacred my people. I was there to see them die. And you... where were you?"

Geira remained silent, unwilling to answer, for whatever she said, she would always be seen as a liar. Always seen through his eyes as a traitor and a pawn of his kingdom. It was better to stay quiet and tend to her own affairs.

But her silence only enraged the king further.

"I asked you a question. Answer me!" Thorin barked, his voice rising.

"I wasn’t given the chance to be there. I wasn’t allowed. And you brought this fate upon me! If only I had known about the battle before it happened!" she shouted back.

She stood up quickly, and now only the fire separated them.

With some apprehension, she noticed the others were watching silently. Even Bilbo, sitting cross-legged on the ground with his knees drawn to his chest, stared at her, stunned.

Here, everyone would side with their sovereign, whether he was right or not.

"You were the architect of your fate, and yours alone! You chose your side. I did not make your choice for you!" he hissed, his voice filled with fury.

"And it was you who denied me the opportunity, who denied my father the opportunity to..." She bit her lip, cutting the sentence short.

No, she couldn’t say it—not aloud. It hurt too much. After all this time, it still hurt too much.

She took a deep breath, trying to hold herself together, trying to stop the trembling in her hands.

She decided to make one last attempt to prove her innocence. "I only ask..." she struggled to get the words out, "...that you trust me."

She realised how foolish she had been when she saw the icy look he gave her in response.

"I did trust you, if you remember. And I remember well where it got me—where it got all of us," he snarled.

He turned his back on her, walking with heavy, deliberate steps towards the edge of the rock, which opened onto a deep chasm, ignoring her completely.

It felt like a slap on her face. Geira felt a sudden urge to scream at the top of her lungs, to unleash her frustration and fury. Did he think he hated her more than she hated him? Oh, that cursed dwarf understood nothing—nothing at all.

"I remember too. I remember an exile that should never have happened! I remember a blind king, deaf to the truth, ignoring the pleas of one of his most trusted counsellors. I remember the despair and shame. I remember when you made me kneel and cut my hair, condemning me to exile. I remember wandering the Wilds, forbidden from speaking to anyone of my kin. And I remember the pain and death that followed—all of my world erased!" Her voice, strong and resolute at first, wavered, too much pain still lingering in her heart from those memories.

Breathing heavily, she spoke quickly, hoping no one would interrupt her. A long silence followed, none of the dwarves daring to make the slightest sound. Their eyes flicked between her enraged and distressed face and Thorin’s broad back.

Everyone, more or less, was aware of the deep divide and discord between them, and they knew better than to interfere. Even Dwalin kept silent; this wasn’t something for them to meddle in.

"Exile is a just punishment for those who betray their people. It was just for someone who turned their back and chose to consort with the enemy, conspiring behind their king's back, and watching their city burn!"

"That never happened! I came back! I came back, hoping that you, of all people, would understand and listen to me!"

"There was no reason to listen to more lies from your mouth! To hear your selfish excuses for why you weren’t there that day! For how you put yourself first above all else! For how your father conspired with the enemy!" Thorin roared, refusing to turn and face her, as if she were unworthy of his attention.

That was too much. He had no right to speak to her like that, to treat her as if she hadn’t tried to explain herself, as if all the pain and tears she had shed for him that day so long ago meant nothing.

"For once in my life, I put myself first. Yes, I lied. Yes, I betrayed. Yes, I put love above everything else. But I also put my love for Erebor above all else. I put my love for my family above all else! Just as you put everything else first—your pride and your blindness to what was happening in that mountain!" she snapped back, pointing a finger at him.

"Do not speak to me of love for Erebor. You know nothing of love!" Thorin bellowed, furious.

She flinched at the sharp pain that pierced her chest, as though his words were a dagger driven into her heart.

Her muscles tensed, like a predator preparing to pounce on its prey.

"You fled!" he spat, his voice laced with disdain. "You covered for a traitor, despite swearing before Mahal, and while you were gone, our people burned in their homes!"

Geira opened her mouth, stunned but trembling with rage. Unexpectedly, she laughed—a bitter, sorrowful laugh, utterly devoid of joy.

"You want me to say it’s all my fault, don’t you? That if not for me, our people would still be alive? That if not for me, everything that led to this moment would never have happened? That if not for me, Erebor would still be ours, you would be king, and everything would be perfect, wouldn’t it?" she whispered, though her tone carried like a scream in the frozen silence that hung between them.

Thorin didn’t move an inch.

"Answer me!" she snapped in anger, unable to control herself. She was too tired, far too tired for this. "Say it to my face, damn it!"

At an agonisingly slow pace, Thorin turned, his piercing gaze meeting hers.

She trembled, her hands clenched into fists so tight her nails bit into her skin. She couldn’t calm herself, not now, not when the dam of her pent-up hatred had broken.

Thorin, in contrast, betrayed no emotion, as though the argument didn’t concern him at all. He remained silent, save for a furrowed brow and lips pressed thin, barely parted. Geira knew he would never be fooled by the sight of a few tears—tears he would never see her shed in his presence again.

Oh no, she swore in that moment, he would never see her cry.

"The love of Durin’s line for gold and wealth far exceeds your love for the people around you, leaving you blind. Your pride, your blindness, will lead you down the path of darkness, one way or another. And know this: I have no intention of giving my life for you just to see it wasted," she declared.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed off along the steep, rocky path they had taken to the cliff, disappearing into the forest’s dense shadows. She stumbled more than once over protruding roots, running clumsily in the oppressive but oddly comforting darkness.

Geira wished the darkness would swallow her whole—a prayer she had repeated for years.

She fell onto the uneven rocky surface, tearing her trousers and scraping her knees. The sting in her palms as they hit the hard ground reminded her that even this time, the darkness had not taken her. She picked herself up, limping a few more steps ahead before finding a fallen log. She collapsed onto it, exhausted from both her flight and the despair that overwhelmed her.

Sharp pain came from her palm, and as the darkness made it impossible to see, she felt around with her fingers. A small, pointed stone was embedded in her skin, likely lodged there during her fall. She held her breath, trying to steady herself. It was hard even to suppress her sobs, and her trembling wouldn’t stop. She pulled the stone out of her hand with a sharp tug, gasping, and flung it far into the trees. The dull sound of it landing among them joined the eerie, unsettling noises of the forest, where it always felt like something was watching from between the tall trunks. But truth be told, at that moment, the strange sounds weren’t Geira’s biggest concern.

Tearing a strip from her red shirt, long enough to wrap around her palm twice, she made a makeshift bandage. With no water to clean the shallow cut or the blood trickling from it, she tied the fabric tightly around her hand, knotting it despite the stinging pain.

Every attempt to hold back her tears had failed miserably the moment she hit the ground. She didn’t care about the blurry vision—she had no need of her eyes. The tears poured freely now, as though she hadn’t cried in years. And in truth, she hadn’t.

She vividly remembered the last time she cried, and why.

It was, after all, the same reason she was crying now. It was always the same reason. And yet, despite the years that had passed since that day—during which she hadn’t shed a single tear, hardening her heart—here she was, back where she had started. All it took were Thorin’s accusations and the hatred she had silently endured during her years of exile to resurface, consuming her mind and heart. No matter how hard she tried to forget the past, she  could never escape it. It always came back, eventually.

All she wanted was to fulfil her oaths, to live her life in peace. But like this? It was impossible.

She didn’t know how much time had passed—maybe hours. But the moon was now high in the sky, and the pain in her hand had dulled. For the first time in ages, she wanted to be truly alone, with no one around. She wanted to drown in the darkness.

Alone.

Geira clenched her fists, ignoring the small silver bracelet that slipped out from beneath her sleeve. She had cried enough over the past that night, and she wanted it to stop.

After a few minutes of walking through branches and broken trunks, she was the first to return to the camp where the others were sleeping soundly, their snores and calm breaths steady. She quickly surveyed the scene, counting to twelve: one was missing. Geira didn’t need to think twice—she knew exactly who it was.

Returning to her spot as quietly as possible, she knelt before her blanket. On it, she found her pipe and a handkerchief—the handkerchief Bofur had given Bilbo. Her hand trembled as she touched it, and even more so as she glanced over at Bilbo, sleeping not far from her.

A small smile escaped her lips.

She lay down slowly. Despite her exhaustion, sleep was slow to come. Every sound pricked her ears, and many hours later, one finally caught her attention. Heavy footsteps were approaching from the opposite direction of where she had fled. They came closer, stepping into the perimeter of the firelight, then stopped.

With a jolt in her chest, Geira felt Thorin’s piercing gaze land on her back. She thanked the heavens she was turned away from him, so he couldn’t see she was struggling to feign sleep.

She felt his eyes on her for a long time, leaving her restless and uneasy. Finally, she heard him lie down in his place.

More time passed, and eventually, Geira felt the pull of sleep envelop her, her limbs heavy, her eyelids closing in the comforting embrace of oblivion. The last thing she heard before drifting off to sleep was a low, deep sigh.

[lathalea]

Remember that Thorin fanfic?

Some time ago I wrote The White Raven, a tale about Thorin Oakenshield and his Raveness, about the legend and the truth, love and fate. Do you still remember that story?

I would like to post a new chapter soon and I'm wondering if you are still interested in seeing this story here? It will be posted on AO3 for sure, but some of my readers have moved on from tumblr to other places and I'd like to see how many of you are still around and willing to read my stories on tumblr these days?

What are your thoughts? Let me know! The fate of The White Raven is in your hands 💙

[elvenlia]

❗️❗️ I took inspiration for this story from the "Do you love me." Scene in Bridgerton.❗️❗️

Please enjoy 💜

-----

When Athelia imaged regaining the lonely mountain back with the company, she imaged it to be a joyous moment. And it was, at first...

She had heard the tales of Thorin's father and grandfather succumbing to the dragon's sickness within the walls of the mountain. How it drove them mad, to the brink of insanity and made them unrecognizable to their kin. He had expressed to her how he never wanted to succumb to the same fate, she had comforted him and told him how he was far to strong and stubborn of a man for that fate to take him so easily.

She believed it too, she believed her words. The man she had come to love was strong willed, hard headed and set in his ways. She would have never imagined he'd sway even in the slightest if it wasn't something he wanted.

Oh how wrong was she...

The days seemed to grow longer within the mountain. Or maybe it was she who grew down in spirits and caused the days to drag on. Or possibly her beloved insistent pacing and deep grumbling in the throne room which she was forced to endure.

Thorin had gone mad. Wide eyed and wire haired, as soon as he placed the crown atop his head and deemed himself the king under the mountain. She grown to despise the man under the crown, she hated his cruel words and foul behavior. Even more so, she hated how he had been treating his friends, no, family. All that made the long gruesome journey with him, he treated them as it they were nothing but dirt under his feet. Locking them all within the mountain, no one enters and no one leaves.

But on the rare occasion, she'd see him. She'd see Thorin, her beloved, just by the look that dwelled deep within his eyes.

And oh, did she love him so...

It wasn't strange for Athelia to have found Thorin stowed away amongst the gold and treasures. Though on this particular evening, she had noticed the tears welling within his eyes and the stern expression on his face as he glared down at the gold. As if he was battling a whole hoard of demons on his own. Slowly, Athelia approached him, leaving some distant in between.

"Thorin - " She called out to him, breaking him of his trance and pulling his attention to her.

"Athelia..." He breathed and for a moment she thought he was going to come to her and embrace her in his arms. He did not, instead he gave her a hard glare.

"You should not be near, Athelia, it is not safe for you." His words were harsh on her ears, she instantly shook her head.

"Thorin, I will not go, I love you- "

"I have gone mad, Athelia, can't you see?!" He had cut her words off with his own, his eyes blown wide, crazed, as he spoke. His voice booming off the gold and precious gems.

Athelia's own gaze now narrowed, her shoulders set back as she took a few steps closer to him. She was never one to back down, always to brave for her own good.

"Do you love me?" She suddenly asked, leaving Thorin breathless and frozen. Even though he had never spoke it aloud, she knew he did, she could feel it within her soul.

His tears now ran freely down his reddened cheeks, his expression turning into dispare as he stared at her. His fist clenched at the fabric covering his chest.

"I am not in my right mind, I know you see it- please -" He was practically begging her. "Take your leave with the hobbit - you are not safe here with me. "

"No, Thorin, I will not leave." She stood her ground, her expression stern and unmoving.

"You must! " His voice echoed against the stone walls. " My mind is fleeing my grasp, I cannot tell you whether I am here nor there, I do not know where the earth ends and the heavens begin - "

" Thorin!" She cut his words short, taking a step closer to him once again, pointing to herself. "I will stand with you between the heavens and the earth, I will tell you where you are!" Her voice raised each time she stepped closer until finally she stopped.

"Do. You. Love. Me."

He heaved a sob as more tears poured from the depths of his ocean eyes. "Yes, I -" His words choked him as he stuttered. "From the first time that I saw you entering the hobbits home-" another sob left his throat. " I have loved you desperately, I cannot breath when you are not near."

She closed the distance between them, her own tears now shedding and trailing down the flushed skin of her cheeks.

"I love you, Athelia. My heart calls your name..." Thorin finished, another sob racking his body as Athelia took him into her arms.

"We will get through this, together. You are not alone, Thorin." She whispered softly to him, as she cupped his cheeks and held his face so she could see him, truly see him for the first time in far to long.

The man that stood before her now was not the King under the mountain, but Thorin oakenshield. Her Thorin, her beloved dwarf.

Oh, how she loved him so...