#You x Ori the dwarf

[mithrilhearts]

Alright folks! I know I'm not really doing much for the AU-Gust event for FOTFICs, but when given the opportunity to finally write something for my beloved @i-did-not-mean-to, I simply HAD to! It's definitely not my usual sort of writing, but I had fun with it.

I hope you enjoy it, my friend!!

Characters: Ori x OC, Nori

Prompt: Poorly timed confessions + "Sorry I took so long"

Words: 1624

The mountain had been won, and restoration over the winter had been anything but dull, so for these quiet moments, Ori often found himself near the back of any gathering of dwarrow, even during meals if he could help it. Thankfully, ever since Bilbo had come into the company, some of the more hobbity ways of life had merged their way into the lives of the dwarrow. Perhaps that was more Thorin’s doing than anything, to help keep his new interest feeling at home, but it did give the others a fair chance at properly taking care of themselves.

At least when supplies and provisions were not something they had to scavenge for.

Sitting tucked away at the farthest end of one of the large stone tables of the feasting hall, Ori had a blank journal spread in front of him, food casually to the side, and a look of pure thought across his features. A bead sat stationary within the gutter of those blank pages he had yet to decorate with ink. The bead was immaculate, just as it was important. It was a reminder of the things he had left behind prior to this quest of Thorin’s that had now come to a close.

There were so few things that had made it all the way from Ered Luin to Erebor, and this was one of them. A small, but hardy thing, much like the dwarrowdam who had gifted it to him. Plucking the bead and rolling it between his fingers, a fond curve pulled at the corner’s of Ori’s lips, examining the design of that which was most special to him. He wondered how Lílja was doing these days. Was she still the studious dam he remembered? Or too busy breaking the hearts of many a dwarrow with an axe in hand?

Or perhaps breaking them literally.

It often made the scholarly dwarf wonder what she had seen in him, for she had been a force to be reckoned with. Smart, lovely, and fierce. Sighing to himself as he rolled that bead around once more, Ori’s lips dropped, his eyes falling closed and remembering a time that felt like so long ago…and yet, wasn’t that long ago at all.

The night before leaving Ered Luin, after many months of shy glances and careful gestures, Ori had been ready to pour his heart out. At first, he had thought of simply writing something and leaving it behind for Lílja, such as a letter or a poem, something to truly get his thoughts down, but in the end, he’d opted for verbally stumbling his way through a proper confession of his admiration. 

Much to his surprise, while formerly forehead to forehead with the lovely dam he missed, Ori’s feelings had been reciprocated with the bead that was currently being rolled between his fingers.

A clap against the back of his shoulder sent the dwarf nearly jumping out of his skin.

“Thinking about your beaut, again, little brother?” Nori teased, fully thrilled to have caught Ori off guard as the younger dwarf fumbled with that bead, clutching it to his chest. “You could always write to her, you know.”

“The ravens have been working hard to deliver far more important things from our king to his sister, I would hate to overwork them…” Ori sighed, not bothering to shrug the arm that was suddenly slung over his arm as he relaxed, his eyes falling upon the bead in his palm once more. “I do miss her though.”

“Anyone with eyes can see that. Even Bilbo’s caught on!” Nori teased, reaching a hand over and playfully tweaking Ori's cheek, and finally getting a swat in his direction. “I have faith that you’ll get to see your dwarrowdam sooner rather than later.”

“Much as I would love that, I can’t help but believe that Lílja will be upset with me for leaving her like I did,” Ori lamented with a roll of his eyes before they settled on the king and consort-to-be that looked so dopey and enamored, reminding him of the doe eyes he’d been teased about making at Lí. “Did we look like that?”

“Even more sickeningly sappy, I promise.”

Trust in Nori to be honest, anyway. Ori took the words with grace though as he felt a smile pull at his lips, offering a grateful nod towards his older brother. “Perhaps I’ll have to come up with something more romantic if she ever speaks to me again after that poorly timed confession. Perhaps a bead of my own? Or a poem…”

“Or one of the thousands of sketches you’ve done of her since we left. I’m sure she’d keel over just knowing she’s not left your mind since we hit the road.” Squeezing Ori a bit in that shoulder-slung grip. “She’s a fine dam, you know.”

“She is!” Ori’s voice rose an octave, agreeing excitedly and quickly. “She’s fierce, and smart, and her beard…” The longing sigh could have blown the entire mountain away if it had just a little bit more force.

Hearing the quick scraping of boots against stone, Ori perked up to notice Thorin racing beyond his table, Bilbo at his heels and mentioning something about the first caravans from Ered Luin. Sharing a glance with Nori, Ori was quickly on his own feet as other dwarrow were also trickling their way to the main gate to welcome the first of those from the Blue Mountains. “You don’t think…?”

“Let’s go get your dam,” Nori urged, pushing Ori along.

Waiting anxiously, Ori bounced from foot to foot, a bead still clasped in his hand while a journal was long forgotten back in the feasting hall. His eyes were constantly moving, recognizing most faces, but none stuck out to him as important as the one he wanted to see. While watching Thorin embrace his sister, and how she eagerly was greeting Bilbo, it only produced a small smirk of amusement, but his attention continuously moved from dwarf to dwarf. 

Whatever small surge of hope had flooded Ori’s chest began to wither away, right up until the point where he heard his name ringing loudly like a gong, It felt like the world had slowed as a particular dwarrowdam emerged from the caravan crowd with a very unimpressed look to her face as her eyes met his. It felt like being caught in the grip of trolls, that gaze, and Ori almost wished he’d stayed behind with his journal and his memories.

“She looks mad,” Nori whispered from behind in his ear, keeping the younger dwarf from tucking tail.

“Thank you for pointing that out,” Ori hissed, already aware of that fact as the dam in question was stomping his way. Furious as she looked, the warmth that bubbled about in his heart couldn’t be helped. She looked just as lovely as he remembered. The way her beard moved as she did, and the little glimpses of those heavily pierced ears, and the tattoos! He’d take an angry Lílja any day, over no Lílja at all.

“Best of luck, little brother,” Nori teased before retreating back a few steps, eager to watch from afar as the dark haired dam got within reach. All he hoped was that Ori didn’t stumble over his words again.

Bracing himself as Lílja stormed her way over, Ori forced a smile to his lips, shy as it was. “Hi Lí,” he barely stammered at least, his fingers locking together as he half expected for an axe to land in his skull, or a fist to clock his jaw.

“Hi? That’s all you have to say?” Lílja huffed as she took those last few steps and her arms moved, though not in the way anyone expected considering her stomping display across the stone. Instead, her hands moved to cup the sides of Ori’s face gently. “I’m sorry I took so long…” she murmured. 

Reaching up to clasp around Lílja’s wrists, one hand awkwardly while hanging onto a bead, Ori felt his heart flutter, practically soaring to the heavens as his grin widened. “What do you mean? I’m the one who left—”

“And to say you were simply leaving for the Shire!” Lí snorted, “but…I’m sorry I took so long in getting here so that I could tell you to never do that again. Or at least take me with you! Our foolhardy king could have likely used a bit of sense among his company!”

Ori couldn’t help but laugh, flashing a glance over towards Thorin, Bilbo, and Lady Dis. “We had a bit of unexpected sense join our company, but I’m certain having you along would have spared us many headaches.”

“The Hobbit, over there?”

“Our burglar,” Ori winced as he watched Dis’ skull crash into Bilbo’s, and Thorin practically fell over in worry at the gesture.  “And the future Consort Under the Mountain, should he survive Thorin’s sister. You will love him just as we do,” 

“I can’t wait to meet him then, but until then, tell me all about this quest, for I have missed you dearly.” Lílja was quick to bonk her forehead far gentler against Ori’s before latching onto his arm, ready to be escorted deeper into the mountain and get a full retelling of the Quest for Erebor, now that seeing the victory had calmed her once worried heart.

“Of course, amrâlimê. I have a whole journal to show you!”

Typical Ori, and the truth of it was, seeing him alive and well had calmed her, not Erebor, not the king’s success, but Ori, and she wasn’t planning on letting him out of her grasp anytime soon—come dragonfire or high water.

[gaycrackheadraccoon]

you’re fucking welcome simps

Guess what bitch just made the first Ori motherfucking chatbot on character AI? 

ME

try it out for yourself guys, go be simps, do it. https://beta.character.ai/chat?char=Mh03VW8AoZkZNNY1FXwgUKy8gw_h2GVRZMXFUYL2oR8 you can thank me later

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Courting Gifts- Thorin x Human!Reader

Summary: Reader didn’t realise what Thorin gave her was a courting gift, but she’s quick to remedy it

Word count: 966

Your hands begin to shake as you run through Erebor to find Ori. Your heart racing and your feet pounding against the marble of the newly restored kingdom, as you looked for the young dwarf.

Thorin had given you a beautiful dagger a couple weeks ago, assuming it was a thank you gift of friends, as you’d been the one to never leave his side and have worked so hard to restore his kingdom. Unfortunately according to Kili and Fili, you were completely wrong.

That beautiful danger was one Thorin had hand crafted just for you, using a style and gems he knew you loved, and according to his nephews, it was in fact a courting gift. Your heart seemed to stop at hearing this, not because of your lack of feelings for the king, but more for your abundance of them.

You never thought Thorin would return the feelings you had for him, but now you were beginning to understand why he had been so grumpy lately. According to his nephews, once a woman is gifted her courting gift, it is customary for her to give one in return.

It had been two weeks and Thorin had not noticed you making anything or asking anyone to help you make him something, so his heart sank.

As soon as the princes explained this to you, you ran to Ori, hoping he could help. Weapons and jewellery weren’t really your strong suit, but you had knit and crocheted some things when you were younger, so you figured that was the best way to go.

“Ori!” You yelled as you finally saw him, causing a few dwarves to turn to look at you.

Turning around he smiled sweetly as he saw you running towards him.

“My sweet dwarven friend, I need your help.” You puffed out with a hopeful grin, all the running around causing you to be a little out of breath.

*****

Luckily for you, Ori was more than happy to help; in fact the young dwarf beamed and jumped at the opportunity to help his ‘future queen’ as he put it. Such a title filled you with both anxiety but mainly excitement as you began your plan.

For the past few weeks you had worked hard to make Thorin a blanket that he would hopefully love. It wasn’t perfect and some of it was slightly loose, but Ori, Fili and Kili reassured you that it was the love and hard work that you put into it that would make Thorin smile.

For the past two weeks the princes and Ori had been running between helping you and calming Thorin, while you worked hard at your gift.

Late one night as you knocked on the door to Thorins study, you remembered all the reassuring words your friends had spoken to you.

‘He will love it!’

‘It’s made by you and with your love, don’t forget that’

‘Hurry up and be my Aunty already!’

Those encouraging words seemed to run faster and faster through your head as you waited for Thorin to answer the study door. As the door swung open, both of your somber looks turned to matching bright smiles as you looked at one another.

Working on the gift meant you hadn’t seen as much of Thorin as you usually would, but looking into each others eyes now, felt like a soothing balm over you both.

Silently stepping aside to let you into the study, you took a deep breath as you gently placed your wrapped present on the plush couch. Thorin chose to also stand as he smirked at your cute fussing.

Walking over to him once the gift was placed out of the way, you gingerly took his hands in yours, a smile growing on your face as he reciprocated the action.

“Thorin, when you had gifted me that dagger, I didn’t know the intention behind it, but after learning what it meant I wanted to make amends for how I must have hurt you, not returning a gift.” You smile sweetly down at him.

Taking one of his cheek in your hand, your thumb rubs against his cheek bone. A mix of realisation, relief and joy hit his eyes as the meaning of what you were saying began to sink in.

Gently stepping away from him, you retrieve your gift from the couch.

“This is for you, to show that I not just accept your gift, but that I relish in its meaning.” You smile warmly as you place the gift in his hands, a tear of happiness threatening to break from your now watery eyes.

Your eyes flitter between his hands and face as he begins to unwrap the blanket.

Finally the gift is revealed and he lets out a breathy laugh and tear filled smile as he takes in your gift. His smile grows and grows the more he looks at it, the gift filling him with so much joy he can’t help but rub it gently across his face.

After a while of admiring your gift, his eyes finally meet yours. Placing the blanket on his desk chair, he pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Thank you, Amrâlimê. Your gift means more to me than I can ever express. It will keep us and our future family warm at night and bring us joy for years to come. Your gift is more perfect than you will ever know.” He tearfully expresses to you, now gently embracing your face in his strong hands.

“I love you, Thorin.” You confess as you stare into his beautiful eyes.

“I love you too, my sweet Zabdûna (queen).” Thorin returns your confession, as he leans into you sweetly, and plants a passionate kiss on your lips, that you are more than eager to return.

[shirefantasies]

Heyyy i just wanna say that I LOVE your writing. Its so so comforting 🫶🫶🫶

Can I request a story/headcanon about how Thorins company/ specifically Kíli would react if (fem) reader got her hair braided by her (non dwarf) friend, and it was just a friendly thing, but the dwarves thought it was a courting braid?

Pairing Fem!Reader x Kíli

Thank youu🫶💗

Omg thanks! Comfort writing is a big honor 🥹

Mission of Misunderstanding- Kili x F!Human!Reader

Shout-out to my girlies in the unbraidable hair community lmao 🤝 Warnings: one minor swear lol, a couple suggestive remarks

One more step and your feet were going to fall off. Surrendering to the burn, you all but fell down onto the log, tilting your feet so only your heels rested upon the earth. A sigh escaped your lips and you didn’t even move when the rustling sounded at your back.

A familiar voice spoke your name. Bilbo. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, my friend,” you breathed, “so long as you don’t count anything below the knee. Or my hair. Can’t imagine how much dirt and leaves have gotten in it after all that.”

"Well, yes," Bilbo chided, ever the little mother-hen, "you've got to keep it back. Why don't I braid it for you?"

Your heart burst, and not from exertion this time. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course," the hobbit shrugged, "haven't had much practice of it of late, but certainly I can give it a go for you. I understand. I wouldn't want the mess either. Come here."

Thanking him again, you scooted closer to where Bilbo stood, gritting your teeth for the pain of him detangling your hair, only to relax at the gentle touch of his nimble fingers. Eyelids fluttering shut in contentment, you sat as Bilbo worked his magic neatening your hair up and making fresh braids of it for you. Feet still elevated and aching, but less so the longer you sat off of them. When the hobbit pulled back with a quiet, still-focused finished, your first instinct was to reach up around your head, touching the new set of braids with a widening smile.

"And now it shall be free of my face! Truly, thank you, Bilbo!" Pulling him into a quick hug, you vowed to repay him somehow with a teasing final statement. "Since I doubt you want me to braid yours."

"That is quite alright, thank you," he chuckled, "let's head back to camp before Bombur chases us down, eh?”

Camp was nearby, and still sparsely populated as you approached it. Bofur and Bombur were there building a fire, and Thorin stood a ways aside having a conversation with Balin. Dwalin and Gloin sat playing a game with a rock as their table, and Ori sat knitting. The others, you presumed, were hunting, saddling ponies, or else getting attention from Oin. Thinking nothing of it you sat down again, this time near Dwalin and Gloin, asking who was winning and if they were taking bets just to laugh at their responses. Bilbo helped Bofur and Bombur get set up for dinner a few feet off, propping up sticks strong enough to hold the cooking pot.

Sure enough, the rest of the company began trickling in, Oin, Bifur, and Nori first, the latter two with poultices and bandages. You winced. Perhaps you should complain less about your feet. Next up came Dori and Fili, who each carried one half of a felled deer, shot clearly with one of Kili's arrows. The younger prince had a bag in hand, likely having won whatever silly game determined who got the lightest load. Smiling and meeting his eyes, you gave a quick wave, indicating your amusement at the game behind you with your eyes.

Kili smiled back and waved, then swiveled his head away and back again in a double-take. You found yourself frowning as he averted his gaze to help his brother, blinking as you wondered what that was about. All you'd done was say hello. Not even say, really. Did he think you were making fun of the others?

Perhaps it was nothing, but considering your feelings for the prince, it was everything in your mind. Cycling ideas began overtaking your brain like mist. Had he suspected malice of your joke? Had he simply heard something? Why had his expression shifted so? Maybe he was just worried by what he heard.

~

"What did I miss while we were gone?"

At Kili's words, Dwalin simply frowned, peering at him like he'd thoroughly lost his marbles. "What do ya mean, lad?"

"Did...did anything happen?"

"Took Gloin for a right fool on the card table," the older dwarf replied with a smug look, chest puffing and shoulders widening.

"No," the prince shook his head, "not with you, with..."

Despite the way he trailed off, Dwalin gave him a knowing smirk, crossing his tattooed arms. "Ah, I see," he nodded, "not with me, not with me at all. With the lass, eh? Why, she didn’t greet you with a kiss?”

Having an older brother really steeled one to teasing. Much as Kili wanted to fight, to protest and say oi, quit that or I’ll make you, he knew it was exactly the rise Dwalin would’ve wanted to get from him. Beside the other fact that his elder could kick his ass easily.

“‘Course not,” he replied nonchalantly as he could, “I just noticed someone had braided her hair was all.”

Even Dwalin had cause for surprise at that, dark eyebrows shooting up to his metaphorical hairline. “Just since this morning?”

“Yeah,” Kili replied, trying not to sound as deflated as the words made him feel, knocking the air clean out of him now that he’d said them out loud, “thought maybe you’d seen who did it.”

“Hadn’t even crossed my mind, but I think it was like that when she and Bilbo headed back to camp.”

“Bilbo?” He’d lose to a three and a half foot…grocer? “Well now, I’d not have expected that, eh?”

“I can tell ye don’t actually want to laugh, son.”

Sighing, he finally let himself deflate. Bilbo? You and Bilbo?

~

“I hardly see them talk that much. Do you?”

“Not nearly enough to warrant a marriage. Those take time.”

“I know, Fee.”

“Spark.”

“I know.”

“And I thought you two had it. Not even just saying that because you’re my brother. You know I’m honest with you. The only reason those two would have is both feeling like outsiders, and that hardly seems cause to f-”

“Thank you, Fili, yes. Perhaps I was just wrong. Perhaps she could never have loved me after all. She wasn’t my One.”

“Now, brother,” grabbing him by the cheeks with one hand, Fili pulled his younger brother’s gaze to meet his, “not so hasty. Have you talked to either of them yet?”

“Wasn’t ready,” he mumbled, shaking out of the squishing grasp.

“Well, perhaps you should. Knowing is pain, yes, but it is also the thing that keeps us going in the end.”

Kili dropped his gaze thoughtfully before meeting his brother’s eye again, smiling faintly. “Remember our old espionage days? Maybe it’s time we had another mission.”

“Alright,” Fili nodded and smiled, “for old times’ sake.”

~

“Well hello there, Master Burglar.”

“Whatever it is, I won’t fall for it.”

“Now, now, so dry and for what?” Fili wrapped an arm around the hobbit. “I was just wondering how you you were coming along with…a certain member of the company.”

At that, the hobbit’s face crumpled in disgust. By Fili’s reckoning, Master Bilbo seemed barely interested in romance and certainly not with any of the types he currently ran with. He needed someone more doilies and dishcloths and the lot. You may have been the closest to his type, but still far too much of an edge, far too much indeed.

“I beg your pardon?” Bilbo simply replied.

With a conspiratorial wink, Fili leaned in and whispered your name, glancing back to the hobbit’s eyes, which narrowed slightly. Suspicious.

“Uh, w-well I would say,” Bilbo stuttered, shrugging lightly, “well as we could be, all things considered.”

“All things considered?” Fili’s grip tightened a bit. “There are things to be considered?”

“There are plenty of things to be considered!” The burglar shot back. “Why, is she upset with me? Last I heard, she liked the braids and I made her feel much more comfortable. Have I done something today?”

Blue eyes closing to near-slits, Fili released his grip entirely, arm falling back to his side. “Did she ask you to arrange her hair?”

“She complained about it,” Bilbo replied, shimmying in his newfound freedom and using his released arm to slide his pack closer, “so I offered to do something about it. Can’t imagine that is much of an outrage…oh. Oh, good heavens! No! Oh, no. No. She could be my daughter, who on earth sent you over here to…?”

Blonde brows raising, Fili’s head shot back in surprising hard enough to send his mustache braids swinging. “Wait, so you do know about courting braids?”

“Gloin was just telling me all about his,” the hobbit replied, freezing in place even in spite of his awkward, hunched-into-his-pack-hands-deep posture, “neither of us thought a thing about it. Privately I was hoping she and Kili would do whatever it was to get the tension out there, you know?”

Fili did know. He knew, all right.

~

“Psst! Psst! Hoo! Hoo! Caw!”

Kili’s head snapped up at the sound, dark eyes meeting his brother’s fair head popping from the scraggly bushes surrounding camp. One gloved hand waved wild beckoning at the younger prince. Rising from the rock he’d sat down on, one with a strategic view of some conversation between you, Uncle Thorin, and Balin, Kili strode to the edges of camp.

“Reconnaissance successful,” his older brother hissed.

“What?” Jaw dropping, Kili felt his hands leave his chest and clench in surprise. “That was fast. Nothing for me to do?”

“Not true, brother. Not true at all,” Fili smiled, “your part is far more important. You have to go talk to her.”

With a sigh, Kili nodded despite the heavy clunk of his heart in his chest. All the childhood playtimes were nice and all, but at the end of the day he had to be a dwarf about things. Face his fears, just like Uncle Thorin and his father and even Fili.

“You’re right. Though I dread it in my heart, I must speak to her. Even if my love is never known.”

“I wish you the greatest of luck,” Fili patted his shoulder, smiling eagerly, “and trust me. She won’t do a single thing to hurt you. I know it. Alright?”

Another nod. “Alright.”

Inhale, exhale. One step, then another. It was hard sometimes. Putting on the bravado. Fili was always so capable and Uncle had high standards. Not that he shouldn’t, but…it just got easier to act unafraid of everything. In truth, there was much Kili didn’t understand. Much he feared. Perhaps even his own heart, and that was why he had allowed himself to play games with it for so long. No longer, though.

Crunching across the dry campsite ground, he marched up to you as your conversation ended and asked to speak with you, frowning slightly at the nod Balin and Thorin exchanged. Focusing instead on your gaze, the way your eyes were intent in his and the-admittedly quite adorable-way shock bloomed across your face before giving way to a smile and a nod.

“Of course,” you said, and that was that.

How was it that one little smile from you could simultaneously calm Kili's heart and set it leaping like nothing else? There truly was no denying that you were special. Perhaps Bilbo had seen what was so dazzlingly obvious, too. Guess that wasn't too much of a shock.

You both ventured toward the tree line, stopping next to a particularly sturdy trunk. Eagerness was written across your face as you leaned against the smooth bark, encouraging Kili with a smile he couldn't help faintly mirroring even as tears swam in his eyes.

"Are congratulations in order?"

"For me?" You asked, head tilting and hand reaching to your chest. "Forgive me, but what are you asking? I thought maybe I'd upset you last night, but now I really fear it. Or are you teasing me again?"

All thought was scrubbed from Kili's brain at your words, a thick blanket of confusion draping over the prince's mind and furrowing his brows. Is this what Fili meant? Were you not to hurt him because you thought him cross with you? That hurt a bit in and of itself. Perhaps you'd known he would be jealous. But then again, you had greeted him so casually, giving him a cute little wave when he came back...

"Please," he all but begged your name, "the suspense is just killing me. Is that not a courting braid you've been given? I know it is new as of yesterday."

"Is that why you looked so perturbed? Courting...courting braid? Kili," you laughed, "my hair was full of sticks and leaves and all manner of muck, so Bilbo detangled it and got it out of my face for me! Bilbo could be my father!"

Still a bit shaky, but Kili's face surrendered a smile at the teasing smack you gave his upper arm. "Oh, forgive me for being a dwarf," he shot back, "I was hardly the only one who noticed."

"But you were the only one who was jealous," you teased him back, "is that not right?"

Kili could tell by the faltering smirk you gave, by the dart of your beautiful eyes, that you did not truly believe it, but by Mahal, you would when he was done with you.

"Madly," he agreed, eyes boring into yours, "never let anyone but me braid your hair again."

Eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, you peeled yourself from the tree as if to get a closer look. "Kili..."

"I mean it," he implored your name once more, gently taking your shoulders in his hands, "please. This isn't a joke, but if you'd like me to convince you..."

Surging forward, Kili closed the gap between you two, his lips soft against yours and stubble pleasantly tickling against your skin, which shifted as you moved in response to his kiss. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tangling in it and eliciting a sound Kili was too focused on you to be embarrassed about. When you finally pulled away for air, he pulled you back, resting his forehead against yours with a growing smile.

"So, you convinced?"

Your eyes glittered with mirth, joy, mischief...perhaps even love, and Kili knew he should have never doubted you were his One. "So convinced I practically want you to rip out all of Bilbo's work and do it over again yourself."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[mountkennedie]

Straggler

Kili Durin x human!reader

Summary: An au where everyone lives happily in erebor and kili is in love with you (lucky)

Warnings: ONLY TWO uses of y/n, and fluff ofc

A.N. i love kili and he loves me tbh.

Bagginshield mention lol.

Also: -ê khi love: my one love and Ghivashel: treasure of all treasures

Kili is 4'8, Reader is around 5'4

"You look beautiful in the sunlight," the dwarf beside you said. You jumped, you swore when you left this morning, and you didn't have any stragglers. However, here you are, with Kili Durin on your tracks. You weren't going to lie, you enjoyed the princes company, if only he gave you a warning beforehand.

You all had been thriving in Erebor upon a year now. Now that things had settled and riches distributed, everyone was able to return to a simpler life. Ori began exploring crochet after mastering knit. You enjoyed going on walks around the mountain, and Kili enjoyed you.

You looked down to him and furrowed your eyebrows, unsure if you heard what you thought you did. "I said um," he began to look sheepish, "you look beautiful in the sunlight, Y/n."

"Thank you," you bowed your head in appreciation, then began to continue your stroll when he said, "Wait!" He grasped your forearm, "may I join you this morning?" He gave you a warm smile in addition to the sweet eyes you could hardly resist.

"You already are KIli," I told him, returning the smile. "But sure, why not." He wasted no time in meeting you at your side. "I really love the view," your gaze followed over the trees and valleys and into the overwhelming beauty of Middle Earth. After being on the year-long quest and exhausting final battle, you can finally appreciate the scenery you're surrounded with. It sends waves of peace over you that you only wish to bask in until the end of time.

"So do I," he whispered. But instead of looking at the young rising sun over the horizon, his gaze on you didn't falter. To an onlooker, it would look as if his sight upon you had grown more intense.

You, of course, noticed this. "Kili, I'm serious!" You playfully shoved him to the side. You let laughter spill from your lips, and he joined you. You paced forward slowly, "you know... would you ever like to see it all?" Your voice matched your vision, very distant.

"All..?" He asked you whilst meeting your speed.

"Of middle earth. Would you ever want to see the entirety of our world?" You spoke quietly, thinking of how you would answer that question. In all honesty, you would. But not for a long time. You needed a couple of years before venturing on your next quest, and with the knowledge you now know, you would not want to go alone.

"I see the entirety of my world every day," he spoke softly. He stopped walking and looked at you. You halted and looked at him. He had a gentle smile on his face. Crossing the short distance, you stood before him.

"Must you always be a flirt?"

Looking up into your eyes, "I must," he mused.

"And why is that, Kili?"

"Y/n, -ê khi love, I think you know," he took your hand in his. He held you like you were the rarest treasure, and for how he was looking in your eyes, to him you were.

"Kili..." You were speechless. His eyes were studying every movement your face made, trying to learn as much as possible about what you were thinking. But you saved him the trouble, "amrâlimê." You had so desperately wanted to give that name to him. You smiled so brightly, and he returned it. It was debatable who out shined the other.

"Really?" He couldn't contain the excitement he felt inside. All the talks with his uncles about how properly court had finally paid off. He knew he needed to meet with Thorin and Bilbo as soon as possible, but it could still wait until he completed the courting tradition.

"So does that mean we'd give each other the braids?" You felt like a child for asking that question, but being human, this was new to you. Thorin had conveniently told about the practice yesterday.

"It does! It does, indeed." He reached back and released his shiny brunette hair for the silver clip he had installed and turned his back to you. You don't think you've ever seen him so eager. Upon picking up some strands, you heard your lover sigh deeply. If only you were a dwarf, to fully understand this significance. You've noticed Fili's braids. Maybe he's waiting on his turn since.

When you finish the braid, you let your fingers run through the rest of his locs, as if hypnotized. He turned to look at you, tears in his eyes. His hand took yours and placed a lingering kiss on the back of it. He did not break eye contact during the small gesture, and it sent waves of emotion through you. "Your turn, ghivashel."

His gentle tone woke you from your thoughts. You gasped a little and smiled. You turned your back to him and sucked in a breath, beyond excited to receive a braid of your own.

After finishing his portion, you hear Kili release an uneven breath. You turn around to see him with tears in his eyes. You don't ever think you have been gazed upon in such a way as he is gazing now. Eyes wet with tears, but full of passion and love that could never be shown to anyone other than his One.

You held his face in your hands and looked deep into those eyes. He leaned his forehead up to rest against yours, and you closed the gap. The feeling surging between the two of you could never be measured. Without a word, you both aimed for each others lips, a final collision to seal tradition.

It was languid and slow but full of life. Pulling away, you both looked each other in the eyes. "If only I could tell you how many nights I've laid awake... waiting for this moment, -ê khi love." His eyes looked over your face as if taking it all in for the first time. Not getting enough of every inch it crossed over.

"You will never have to wait again."

[andinthedarknessbindthem]

Fili X Reader - Restless

✿ Words: 2,688

✿ Themes: Kinda(?) Angst, Fluff

✿ Prompt: After the Battle of the Five Armies, you are tasked with keeping the line of Durin alive.

✿ Posted: 2/19/23

You had merged into Thorin’s company when they stumbled upon Beorn the skin-changer. You just happened to find Beorn a few weeks earlier as a traveling healer. After you helped with the injuries they had, it was decided by Gandalf that you would continue with them. You spent a good three months with Thorin and the company and had come to appreciate them all, and them you. 

You loved watching Ori knit next to the fire. He was even sweet enough to teach you how to mend your own clothes and made you a pair of knit gloves that you carry with you at all times.

Bofur would tell the funniest stories when you and Bombur prepared dinner with him. You could always tell it was a really good story whenever Bifur would laugh and slap your back, saying words that you could understand.

Oin shared his healing techniques with you, and you to him. It was a wonderful learning experience that would come in handy later on. He also gifted you a small satchel to carry herbs in. 

Gloin always has something to say about his beloved wife and son. You would always hear groans from the other members, but you loved listening to him rant and rave about his family. It was so cute to hear how much he loved them.

Thorin and Dwalin were both tough nuts to crack. Thorin seemed to welcome you in once you spat in the face of Thranduil in Mirkwood. You ended up buttering up Dwalin on accident. You had some cookies from another passing traveler that you helped and were eating a few when you noticed him eyeing down the small bag you were holding. You tied the top of the bag and tossed it to him. He seemed frazzled at first but grunted in appreciation.

Nori was an annoyance, but you still enjoyed him. You would always find him looking over something of yours that had miraculously ‘fallen’ out of your bag. He did try teaching you how to pick-pocket, but you weren’t very good at it.

You loved Dori and Balin. They were the ones that you would always go to for advice. They were the grandparents you never had. Dori especially seemed very mothering towards you, going as far as making sure you always were close enough to the fire.

Kili was a menace when it came to his teasing. There wasn’t a day that went by without some sort of joke that would make your cheeks heat up. You were glad you could take some of the attention from Bilbo though.

You loved going to Bilbo when you needed a civilized and calm chat. You both spoke of simpler times and gardens.

Fili… Oh, Fili was something special. Despite being like his brother, there was something else about him that just completed you. When he stepped in front of you to defend you from a spider, your heart fluttered. When he waded back into the water to pull you from your barrel, your stomach did flip-flops. When he grabbed your hand for comfort when his brother was sick, you nearly exploded. 

When you reached Erebor, you ended up spending even more time with him as you both were on the same schedule looking for the Arkenstone. You hated to admit it, but you’d come to fall for the blonde dwarf, and spending every waking moment with him didn’t help. You only ever confessed your crush to Bilbo when he caught you gawking at Fili who just bathed in a stream. You never dared to tell Fili, too scared to ruin what you had now.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

After the battle of the five armies, the line of Durin returned to you tremendously wounded. We’re talking twenty minutes from death kind of injuries.

You and Oin were working around the clock trying to repair the damage that was dealt to your newfound family. Your weak heart allowed tears to fall from your eyes as you worked on Thorin, worried that they all wouldn’t make it. A few hours later you managed to stop the bleeding and suture any lacerations or mutilations.

By the twenty-sixth hour, your mind was worn out as you sat on a table mixing a salve as Oin mixed up the decoction. It was silent in the room, the only sounds being the small clinks of glass and breathing.

You jumped when you heard the door squeak open, the head of Dori popped in and you nodded at him, continuing with your work. He took this as an okay to come in, his eyes looked over the three men laying on the beds.

“How are they?” He asked, not making eye contact.

You had a grim smile on your face as you mustered up some words, “Mostly stable.” 

You watched out of the corner of your eye as Oin’s head lightly drop before lifting again, You slid off the table and placed down your finished salve. You walked to Oin and plucked the decoction out of his hands.

“I’m not done with that!” He grumbled, reaching up for it. You moved it out of reach and walked to Dori, placing your empty hand on his shoulder.

“Do me a favor and get him to bed.” You pleaded, eyes looking between his. 

“I don’t need to sleep. There’s much work to do!” Oin tried to argue but you just shook your head.

“It’s no help to either of us if you faint from exhaustion,” You gave him a sympathetic look. “I can handle it, don’t worry.” He grumbled a bit but didn’t fight as Nori led him out of the room.

You spent hours delicately washing the blood off of the dwarves' bodies and coating their wounds in the salve. By the time you were done and pouring small amounts of the decoction in their mouths, you were half asleep. 

Your head lightly raised when a knock sounded on the door. You hummed in response as you began to gather all of the bloody tools that needed to be cleaned. The door creaked open and a grunt met your ears. You peeked over your shoulder to look at the dwarf who entered, Dwalin and it looked like Bofur was right behind him.

There was a low whistle from Bofur before he spoke, “Lass, I mean this in the nicest way,” He started. “You look terrible.”

You scoffed as you dropped the metal tools into a large basin. “I’m well aware, thank you.” You slowly blinked before turning on the water, a soft sigh leaving your lips as the cold slightly shocked you awake. Wiping your hands off on a towel, you pushed the herbs to the side now.

“Are they-” Dwalin stopped mid-sentence, seeing a sorrowful look in his eyes. You’re sure he must be in as much pain as yourself, seeing his best friend laying there.

You moved to him placing a tired hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “All alive. I’ve been keeping a keen eye on them.” You lazily smiled. You walked over to Fili’s bedside, a downcast look as you brushed the hair off his face. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath.

“When’s the last time you’ve slept?” Bofur asked. You thought for a moment and shrugged as you stood there. 

“Not that long ago. I’m alright.” You brushed him off, opening your eyes and continuing to work on organizing the herbs back to where they were originally.

You weren’t aware of the looks that Bofur and Dwalin shared behind your back but it wasn’t long before Dwalin stepped forward and grabbed your hips, heaving you over his shoulder. A gasp slipped out of your mouth. You went to fight him, but limply hanging there only made you realize how tired you were.

“Sleep well dove!” Bofur’s voice called to your and Dwalin’s retreating form.

-.-.-.-.-.-.- 2 Weeks Later -.-.-.-.-.-.-

You and Oin had been keeping Thorin, Fili, and Kili under constant supervision. This meant 12 hours of your awake hours you spent in that room treating them.

Today, you were walking towards the room. You had a heap of books you planned to read during your downtime, but you froze in place when you could hear a voice inside the door, then a familiar laugh.

You rushed forward, books clattering to the floor, slamming the door open and looking towards where Kili lay. He was awake!

“Oh, Kili!” You cried out, running to the side of his bed and dropping to your knees. You grabbed onto his hand, excited to see one of your friends awake.

“Did you think I would die that easy?” He teased in a weak voice. You laughed and shook your head.

“I’m so grateful for that.”

 -.-.-.-.-.-.- 1 Month Later -.-.-.-.-.-.-

You had been talking to Oin in the corner about making a balm for Kili to use on his own when you heard a low groan. You both turned towards Kili, expecting him to be whining about his pain again but he was staring at his uncle. You turned your gaze upon Thorin, watching his face scrunch up before his hand twitched. You quickly moved forward, bending over him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thorin? Thorin can you hear me?” You asked before turning to Oin, “Can you hand me the macerate-” You were cut off by a painful hand around your arm, Thorin reeled forward screaming out a war cry. 

Oin rushed to help you hold him down and attempted to calm him, but he acted as though he was still in the middle of battle. You received a good punch to the face, stumbling back before rushing forward again and holding him down with more ferocity. If it wasn’t for Kili, who stumbled into the hall and called out at the passing Dwalin, you’re sure you would have received much worse.

When Thorin finally calmed down and came to, he looked at you with a horrified expression.

“My deepest apologies, (Y/N). I thought you-” You smiled and placed a hand on his.

“Thorin, it’s alright. You’ve been through much more than I.” You reassured him with a small pat on his hand. “I’m just glad we all have you back, King under the mountain.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.- 2 Months Later -.-.-.-.-.-.-

Kili and Thorin were both mostly on their own at this point, only coming in every now and then for a tincture to help their pain. 

But Fili… Fili was still sound asleep.

Every day you would talk to him as he lay in that bed. While you talked you would do things like clean him up, change his bandages, and even mix up some medicine just to prepare for the worst.

Today was draining. New dwarves were flooding into Erebor and in your free time, you were helping the others by showing the new Darrow their way around the mountain. Oin had a rough day himself and asked if you would be okay to cover his shift. You knew that nothing ever happened so you accepted.

You had just packaged up a few salves when a yawn hit you. You could probably get away with a small rest even though you knew you weren't supposed to. Your eyes glanced at the empty beds before they slowly drifted to Fili. Slowly shuffling to his bedside, you examined his features. He looked so comfortable and warm. You crawled up next to him, before carefully laying down. You lightly rested your head on his chest, ear pressing against the fabric covering his torso.

“Your heartbeat has always been so calming to me, Fee.” You hummed to yourself, letting your arm trace over a scar on his arm. 

“I wish I told you how I felt before this happened. Hell, I wish I could tell you now.” You sighed, shutting your eyes and focusing on his heartbeat. 

“No one is around to hear, I don’t see any harm…” You opened your eyes, moving up the bed towards his face. “I love you, Fili. From the moment I laid eyes on you I knew I did.” You placed a light kiss on his cheek.

“I would do anything just to see your smile again, to hear your laugh, to see your eyes sparkle in the sun.” You whispered before resting your head down on his chest again, slowly giving into the darkness of sleep.

You groggily blinked as you woke yourself up, unfurling yourself from Fili’s side. You grabbed onto Fili’s arm which now wrapped around your waist. You must have moved it while you rested.

“Oh Fili, your skin is so soft..” You murmured, bringing his hand up and placing a kiss on his palm.

You brought your head to rest back on his chest, “If you were awake, I would tell you how much I adored you…” you sighed. “How much I miss you…”

A few minutes passed as you laid on him, there was still so much you had to do before Oin came in, “I should probably stop talking and get to work.” 

“Please keep talking, I love the sound of your voice.” A throaty voice crackled in your ear.

You let out a shrill scream as you flailed and fell off the bed with a slap against the cold stone ground. You stared up as you could hear the shifting of him on the bed.

“Fili?” You whispered as you shakily stood off the ground, his blue eyes were cracked weakly but a bright smile still played on his lips.

“Hello sweetling.” He cooed, arm feebly reaching out for you. Had it not been for your excitement of seeing him awake, you would have thought more about what he called you.

You swiftly crawled onto the bed next to him, sitting on your knees and cupping his cheeks. “Oh, Fili…” You whimpered, examining over him.”I didn’t think you were going to wake up…” 

He used his hand against your back to gently direct you down until you were spooned to his side. “For a while, I dreamt of nothing. But then, it was you.” He sucked in a small breath, his hand coming down to rest on your cheek. “When I was about to give up, you came forward, urging me to return to you.”

You pressed into his hand but furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, “What are you saying?” 

“I love you, (Y/N). I should have told you before I left you on the ramparts.” He whispered, “The last few days I listened to your words of adoration, and I knew you felt the same about me.” He confessed

Your breath hitched in your throat. He had heard you. He had heard it all! Your cheeks heated up as you opened your mouth to find something to say, but all that came out was a pathetic squeak.

“I want to court you.” Fili announced confidently, his smile unfaltering on his stunning face.

“Fili…” You muttered in shock, his thumb brushed away a tear that escaped your eyes.

“It doesn't have to be now,” His voice lowered to a desire-filled whisper. “But I cannot possibly stand another second knowing you are not mine.” 

You shifted where you lay, choosing to instead move and hover over him. He breathed deeply as you looked over him, his free hand coming up to rest on your waist. Your stomach did backflips as you leaned down, gingerly just brushing your lips together. He quickly leaned up, locking your lips together. His lips were feathery as you both familiarized with each other. He tasted of the tincture you’d last given him, and something else that was just so uniquely him. 

His hand gripped your side harder, pulling you down until you were rested on top of him. Your cheeks burned as you reached up to brush a hand against his bearded chin. You reluctantly pulled your lips apart, Fili leaned up to try and follow but you placed a hand on his chest to keep him there.

You lovingly sighed as you bent down, pressing your foreheads together. “I am yours, FIli. I always have been.”

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Oooh Rain for sweet romantic treat, and FiliOei please!!!

Fili x Ori! I haven't written one for them in a while. Thanks for the ask, I hope you enjoy!

Ori stared out at the heavy rain pouring down from outside the cliff hanging they had found before turning his glare onto Fili. 

“I told you we weren’t going to beat it home.”

“Yeah, my bad.” The blonde grumbled, poking his head out to judge the clouds. “But I doubt we’ll be here long. An hour max.”

Ori let his back hit the rock behind him, sliding down to the ground as he pulled out his sketchbook for something to do. Fili sighed before plopping down next to him. 

“Sorry we didn’t get to see your bird.”

“They’re eagles and they migrate west to the shoreline during the winter and this could have been my last chance to see them before they go.”

Fili didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Ori took to attempting to ignore him again. 

“It won’t be your last chance.” Fili declared. “We’ll try again next year and the year after if we need to.”

Ori snorted, but his expression was downcast as he stared down at the still blank page before him.

“I start my apprenticeship with Balin in the spring, and you promised your uncle to go with him and the trade caravans.”

Ori was caught off-guard when a hand went around the back of his neck urging his head forward. He held his breath as Fili press their foreheads together, his eyes closed and tone solemn.

“This won’t be the last time we see each other, Ori. I promise you.”

Ori remained frozen in place before he released his breath, leaning just a little further into Fili’s space. He wasn’t worried about them not being able to see each other. Not really, especially when Ered Luin was such a small colony. He did worry about them being able to spend time together. Fili has been his best friend for as long as Ori could remember. And Kili too he supposed. It was just different with Fili. 

“So we’ll just tell Thorin and Balin to shove off and go see the eagles anyways?” Ori smirked.

Fili pulled back looking aghast. “Could you even imagine telling Thorin to shove it? I can already hear the shouting as we speak.” He shivered.

Ori laughed which in turn made Fili grin. 

“I’ll have to sneak off in the middle of the night, but it’s fine. I’m sure it’s good for Uncle’s blood pressure to be kept on his toes.”

Ori rolled his eyes as he resettled, leaning a bit more on Fili’s shoulder. The other dwarf didn’t seem to mind as he wrapped his arm around Ori’s back holding him close. 

“You’re going to get to see eagles, Ori. I just know it.”

And wouldn’t you know it. A handful of years later and Ori not only saw them, but rode on one. Fili’s grin when he looked over at him was breath catching, and Ori realized in that moment, he never wanted to miss one for all that he lived.

Trick or Treat My Inbox

[pyropixiesposts]

Tittle: the kings equal

THORIN X FEM!OC

Summery

Mira( a half dwarf/half hobbit)had traveled with the company, made friends,was adopted by the ri's and had stolen the heart of the brooding dwarf king. After partitioning the gods to heal those who fought in the battle, a deal was made. If she could withstand enduring the pain of all the wounds inflicted on the dwarves and allies, the gods would save those who fought. Binding her hands to her blade and stabbing it into the snow and ice to support her weight incase the pain makes her knees buckle After everything was said and done she was left unconscious and brought to the healers. When she wakes the newly crowned king must make amends and only has until spring to convince her to stay.

(Mira is a curvy, 4ft9 dwarf/hobbit. Covered in tattoos and freckles. Brown eyes)

Chapter 1 The promise of coffee

When mira opened her eyes, she was overcome with the burning sensation all over her body. Gripping the blanket that lay on her, she slowly sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Taking in her surroundings, seeing herbs, bandages and a chair near her, she came to the conclusion that she was in a medical tent. Looking down, she could see she was in a, thank the gods, clean clothes. A dark brown pair of pants and a soft cream colored shirt. Memories of the end of the battle rushed her. Fili being ran through, kili being held by the turiel as he died and thorin... Running from the tent on shaky legs, looking around wildly, she prayed it worked. That they were alive, that HE was alive. "THORIN! You better be alive mother fucker or im gonna be PISSED!" So preoccupied with with rash yelling ( she'll blame it on the pain later) that she didnt notice how almost everyone fell to their knees at the sight of her. What she did notice was ori running towards her and nori not far behind. Ori practically crushed her, lifting her off her feet and swaying her to and fro. When a mumbled "ow" fell from her lips he hurriedly put her back on her feet. "Be gentle! She just woke up, she shouldnt even be on her feet and you go waving her around." While nori shoved ori's shoulder it seemed like something clicked in nori's mind. Spining to face mira, he stretched his arms out almost as he expected to catch her. "You shouldnt be up! You should be sitting! Or laying down! Why ar-" Before he could ramble, mira cut him off, grabbing his arms she hurriedly asked. " Are they alive Nori? Is he alive? Did it work?" The desperation in her voice was heartbreaking for her brothers to hear. A loud commotion coming from a deep green tent had everyone looking towards it. It was a sight to see thorin stumbling from the opening and yell her name. Running towards him, well more of a rushed hobbling. She began doing what she does best. Yelling at thorin. Loudly. " You son of a bitch! Who told you, you could try dying?! I did not fight a fucking DRAGON just for you to get bitchy and die!" The reaction thorin gave was not one she wanted. Mere feet infront of her and he was laughing. Laughing! At her! Before she could yell more, two very much alive and somewhat well princes wrapped them selves around her. A chorus of "we're so happy your awake!" "Best aunty ever" and "uncles sorry" sounded from the two boys. The anger she had felt melted away as relief and joy filled her as she saw the company and family she tried so hard to save, alive and whole. Hugging both boys, she couldnt help the fat tears the ran doen her face. Thorin held out his arm to her and said the most magical thing to her. He invited her to the tent with a promise of coffee. While she was stiff in her movements, she was quick with the thought of a sit down and coffee.

[elrondsimp]

Bilbo Baggins X F! reader

“Unnoticed love?” PT1

Being the only girl in the company was undoubtedly challenging, especially as a hobbit. The dwarves had never encountered a hobbit lass before, and they initially hesitated to let Y/n join the journey, fearing she would slow them down with their preference for comfort, specific meal times, and plumper physiques compared to other races. However, Y/n's unwavering determination eventually won them over. She vividly recalled the events that led to their acceptance.

The moon bathed the Shire in its ethereal glow, casting a beautiful blue tint upon the ground. Y/n observed Bilbo cooking and preparing tea for both of them.

"I apologize for missing tea this morning. A wizard tried to recruit me for an adventure, but I declined," Bilbo said, placing a cup of tea in front of Y/n. The sweet aroma wafted towards her face. Bilbo knew exactly how she liked her tea, with a touch of cream and plenty of sugar.

"No need to worry, Bo. I witnessed the interaction on my way to the market," Y/n replied, lifting the cup and taking a small sip, her laughter escaping as she did.

"What's so amusing?" Bilbo asked, curiosity evident in his voice. "Oh, just the expression on your face when you went inside. It's not every day one sees a displeased Bilbo, unless it involves those Sackville-Baggins," Y/n chuckled, picking up one of the sweet treats Bilbo had prepared and taking a bite.

The two of them often shared meals together, almost like a tradition, which had led some of the other hobbits to speculate about their romantic involvement. However, Y/n knew deep down that her feelings were unrequited, despite her yearning for more. If only she could see the way Bilbo looked at her.

Their comfortable silence was shattered by a loud, insistent knocking on the door, startling both hobbits. "Were we expecting company?" Y/n placed her pastry down and stood up. "I don't believe so," Bilbo replied, joining her. He approached the door, hesitant about turning anyone away. What if they needed help? Taking a deep breath, he grasped the doorknob and opened the door. A dwarf stood before them, his features highlighted by the moon's glow, giving his beard a bluish undertone.

"Dwalin, at your service," the dwarf introduced himself, bowing and eyeing both hobbits. The interaction was awkward as he barged in and helped himself to some food, leaving the hobbits dumbfounded. "I guess what they say about dwarves is true," Y/n huffed, observing him devour their food.

Before long, more dwarves arrived, including Balin, the brother of the first dwarf, and two brothers named Fili and Kili. The wizard himself also made an appearance, followed by a swarm of dwarves stumbling over each other as they entered.

Y/n found amusement in watching their squabbles as they struggled to regain their footing. One dwarf tipped his hat and winked at her. "Bofur," he introduced himself, extending his hand, which Y/n shyly shook. "Y/n, a pleasure," she replied in a soft, cautious voice. Bofur placed his other hand on top of hers, grinning. This gesture did not go unnoticed.

The situation escalated when the group began singing, resulting in chaos. They clanged silverware together, tossed food, and spilled wine everywhere. It was a spectacle that surely alerted the neighbors. Y/n attempted to catch plates, while Bilbo desperately tried to prevent further damage, including potential plumbing disasters.

Now in the kitchen, washing the dishes, a young dwarf named Ori approached Y/n. She smiled, looking at his bashful face, as he handed her a plate. "Thank you, Master Dwarf," she said graciously.

Since that fateful night, Y/n found herself surrounded by the dwarves. Initially, there was tension due to her outburst with Thorin, but she felt more at ease with the others. When she wasn't conversing with Bilbo, she would engage in discussions with Bofur or Balin. Bilbo observed from a distance, his stomach churning with a sense of neglect. He couldn't quite pinpoint whether it was jealousy or anger, but he despised the feeling. He would watch Y/n return from the river, her wet hair clinging to her face, her flushed cheeks after a battle, or her cheeks puffing out when she ate. Observing her lick her lips only heightened his desire.

"Are you alright, Master Burglar?" Fili nudged Bilbo, snapping him out of his reverie. "Hm? Yes, I'm quite alright," Bilbo replied, fumbling with his hands, worried that he had been caught staring at his beloved friend. "It must be challenging being away from home, let alone on a perilous mission. But at least you still have some comfort with you," Fili remarked, glancing at Y/n. "I don't know how you manage to stay focused," he continued, his gaze lingering admiringly on her curvaceous figure. Bilbo couldn't blame them; he himself was guilty of such thoughts. He watched Y/n's every move, her hair still damp and sticking to her face as she walked alongside Ori, listening to his rant about his older brothers.

Bilbo's desire for Y/n remained unspoken, buried deep within. One side of him yearned to claim her as his own, to let the world know that she belonged to him. But he knew the truth—she was not his. They weren't courting, which meant she was available for others to pursue. The other side of him simply longed to drag her away into a secluded tent and express his desires, hoping she would reciprocate.

"Bilbo," Thorin's voice echoed, breaking the momentary trance. "Tend to the horses," he commanded. Bilbo sighed, watching Y/n fulfill her duties.

The company continued their journey towards Erebor, which meant passing through Mirkwood—a prospect that displeased Thorin but left him with no alternative. It was no surprise when they were captured by the elves. While the other dwarves underwent thorough searches, the elves were uncertain where to begin searching Y/n. One male elf patted down her sleeves, but that was the extent of it. "Hey! Why are you putting your filthy hands all over us but ignoring her?" Kili exclaimed, but the elf sighed and ignored his question. "We should have hidden our weapons on her," Gloin grumbled. "Excuse me?" Y/n turned her head, astonished by the remark.

They were presented before the king himself, Thranduil. Thorin gritted his teeth, looking beyond him. "Mr. Thorin, are you alright?" Y/n glanced at her leader, witnessing a softening in his gaze when he looked at her. She appeared so vulnerable, restrained—though they all likely did—yet he remained silent.

A gentle hand slid under Y/n's chin, redirecting her attention from Thorin to Thranduil. "Sweet hobbit, what brings you so far from the Shire?" Thranduil cooed, treating her as if she were a child. Y/n remained silent, her mind plagued by numerous

questions. Would everyone be alright? Would she be safe? And, most importantly, where was Bilbo? Unbeknownst to them, he observed everything from his hidden vantage point. He had never seen her look so fragile before, kneeling before a king, beneath someone who wasn't him.

"Are you at a loss for words? No matter, we will take good care of your friends," Thranduil declared before instructing his guards to remove them, leaving the two alone. Bilbo knew he had to act swiftly, despite the heartache it caused him. He had to find a way for them to escape as soon as possible.

Thranduil circled around Y/n, resembling a predator stalking its prey. "You never answered my question. Are you here to reclaim Erebor as well?" His tone carried a taunting quality, as if he couldn't believe a hobbit would willingly leave the comfort of their own home for an adventure. "Release them; they are my friends," Y/n spoke softly. Thranduil chuckled, ceasing his circling motion and kneeling before her. "Friends? Oh, my dear, you are merely a pawn in their game. Once they have the opportunity, they will discard you as if you were nothing," he said, gazing into her eyes. "Oh, little one."

He lightly caressed her cheek, smiling. "I believe it's only fair to say you will be treated much better here. I cannot allow your delicate hands to become even more roughed up than they already are," he remarked, alluding to the skirmish with the giant spiders. "Stay with me," he urged. "No," Y/n replied firmly.

"No?" Thranduil removed his hand from her cheek, repeating her answer. "No?" Rising from his kneeling position, he stared her down. "Why not? Do you truly wish to fight alongside these... these creatures? Oh, my dear, you should learn to choose your battles wisely because...," his voice darkened, "I'm afraid you won't be spared." "I'm doing this for someone I love!" Y/n blurted out. Instead of a chuckle, Thranduil burst into laughter. "You? You love one of the dwarves?" he exclaimed. "It's not the dwarves. It's..." Y/n's voice trailed off. Thranduil sighed, instructing Tauriel to apprehend her alongside the others.

Now sitting alone in a dark and desolate cell, Y/n was left with her thoughts. Worries washed over her, refusing to dissipate. They were trapped, and Bilbo was nowhere to be found. What if he had been devoured by the spiders?

[justjbeboriginalo]

Don't Die This Time

Kili Fanfic

Kili meets a girl who has to go along on their quest on Gandalf's request. The girl captures his attention from the first time they meet and they grow to love each other over the course of the quest.

Pairing: Kili x OC female who can control nature

Chapter 5: Pain Part 1

Warnings: Death (Orcs)

Gaia stumbles around, unable to stay upright. A heavy fog pushes down on her and she struggles to breathe. As she falls to her knees, her hands shoot out to the ground. She searches for something to hold onto. A disgruntled voice booms through her ears and her head snaps up. A familiar figure floats to her, surrounded by a darkness that follows it.

Sauron.

Gaia jerks awake which causes her to slip down the rock she was seated on. She rubs her face and lets out a groan. She hates being in the Mirkwoods. The sickness that lies upon this forest is similar to one she is already familiar with.

The Necromancer at Dol Guldur might be more than what she is prepared for at the moment.

“I already told you- “

“Shut up, I already told you that we need to go around. The road will be there. Not here,” Ori shouts at Dwalin, “you daft dwarf.”

“Don’t you dare- “

Gaia pushes her hands to her ears, cutting off the foul comments of the fighting dwarves. They have been at each other’s throats since they lost the road.

She told them that she could locate the road, but none of them listened to her. They have been shouting and cursing at each other for who knows how long.

Her eyes search for Thorin in the fighting crowd, but he is not part of the crowd. He is standing a few steps away from them, staring at nothing in the distance. Why has he not put a stop to this fighting?

Sauron.

Gaia shakes her head, trying to rid the memories from her thoughts. Why, of all places, does she have to remember her past in this forsaken place?

She turns her attention to the dwarves and catches Bilbo trying to break up the fight, but he fails to succeed.

An elbow shoots out which hits Bilbo’s head and he falls to the ground. The dwarves continue their fighting, sending trampling feet in Bilbo’s direction.

She shoots up and hurries to stop them from squashing Bilbo.

“Oi, stop it,” she shouts, making her way hurriedly to Bilbo. They ignore her and this causes her blood to boil.

“Stop it,” she shouts again. This time, her words are accompanied by a strong wind which sends the dwarves flying in different directions.

She crouches next to Bilbo, inspecting whether he got hurt in the process. Bilbo gestures that he is fine and she stands up.

The dwarves are spread out on the forest floor, groaning and grunting.

Gaia grabs a loose vine from a nearby tree and rushes to the closest dwarf, Dwalin. She wraps the vine around his middle while she helps him up.

“What was that for?” Bifur asks, trying to stand up. Gaia kicks his legs from under him when she passes him, making her way to Balin.

“This forest has you lot fighting. This is exactly what Gandalf warned us about, but do you listen? Do you ever listen?” Gaia asks, more of a rhetorical question.

She wraps the vine around Dori, Nori, and Ori before stopping next to Bifur.

“We- “

“No, shut up. I do not care about your silly excuses. Save me from the stubbornness of dwarves,” she mutters as she wraps Bofur and Bombur. “You have lost a lot of time in this cursed forest. I will not stand by and watch you fail this quest because you act like children.” She wraps the vine around Dwalin and Balin.

“Gaia is right,” Thorin interjects, “We have been wasting our time here. You all know we only have one chance.”

Gaia stops from wrapping the vine around Fili and Kili, bowing her head to Thorin to show her support.

“So, get in line,” Thorin orders the remaining dwarves. They all scramble to get in line behind Fili and Kili.

“You know how to get back on the road, right?” Kili asks in a whisper. Gaia nods, finishing wrapping him. “Do you need any support?”

“No, but thank you. Just keep them under control,” she whispers with a wink to Kili. He flashes a smile and bows his head.

After Gaia has finished wrapping the vine around the remaining company, she guides Thorin to the front where she also wraps the vine around him. She lets the vine wrap around her arm before she thickens the vine.

There is no way they will be able to escape from these restraints.

Gaia removes her shoes and throws them into her bag before relishing the feeling of life beneath her feet. She closes her eyes at the vibrations of the forest.

With a determined huff, she feels for the different vibrations. The trail has a different feel to it than the soil and grass they were stuck on.

She easily finds the trail they lost and leads the dwarves on the trail.

After a while, the dwarves start to converse and some even break out into song. She glances over her shoulder at the company and notices Kili singing along with the rest.

A smile ghosts over her features.

She turns her head to the front and listens to them as they sing and joke around. The sickness of the forest does not seem to have an effect on these dwarves anymore.

The river comes into Gaia’s view and she hurries to the river, wanting to escape the darkness of the forest.

She leads the company out of the Mirkwood and stops them next to the roaring river. The vine slips from her arm, letting go of the rest of the company. The company starts to celebrate and Gaia laughs softly at their antics.

Dwarves.

“Thank you.” Thorin’s voice is deep next to her. Gaia turns to him and inclines her head at him.

“We got out,” Kili shouts as he runs over to them. He throws his arms around Gaia, pulling her in for a hug. She lets out a laugh into the embrace.

He slowly lets go of her, his hands coming to a rest on her arms.

“Thank you. For getting us out,” he says with a small smile. His hands squeeze her arms and she smiles warmly at Kili.

“You are welcome.” Kili lets her arms go before he turns around, rushing to tackle Fili to the ground. Gaia laughs at them.

A familiar vibration catches her attention. How did THEY make it through Mirkwood? With the help of none other than the one who placed the sickness on that forest.

“Orcs!” she shouts while she runs to the company, trying to get their attention. “Run!”

Balin is the first to start running with Fili short on his heels.

Kili spins around while his eyes search for Gaia.

“Kili, run,” she shouts, gesturing for him to go.

As Kili starts to turn to run, an arrow flies past Gaia. It pierces the flesh of Kili’s thigh. He stumbles a bit before he falls to the ground, groaning when the pain registers.

Gaia crouches down next to him and quickly throws her arm around him to support him. She helps him up and they make their way to the rest of the company.

“You will be fine,” Gaia mutters repeatedly, dragging Kili with her.

Kili’s leg gives out from underneath him and he hits the ground with a thud. Fili runs back to them to assist Gaia in getting Kili back up, but Kili’s leg is a bad condition.

Gaia looks around and her eyes fall on the running water next to them. She has never managed to control water, but that is their only escape.

She lets out a shaky breath when she reaches the water, her hand stretched out to the water.

As soon as her hand touches the water, a large ice block forms.

She gasps, unable to believe that she had done that. She turned water to ice?

“Get on,” she shouts to the rest of the company, jumping on the block.

Fili throws Kili on the ice and she prevents him from sliding off. Fili follows along with the rest of the company.

The block of ice is large enough for the whole company if they squeeze against each other. Gaia helps to keep them from slipping off the ice by forming something that resembles a border around the edges of the ice block.

The stream of the river is strong and it moves the block with ease.

The Orcs are quite a way behind the company, but they continue to shoot arrows at the ice.

Gaia deflects the course of the arrows as it is made of wood.

A few Orcs managed to catch up and they are jumping from the riverbed to get onto the ice block. Between Thorin, Fili, Dwalin, and Balin, their lifeless bodies fall into the treacherous water.

Gaia glances at Kili and the dread settles in. They need to get some shelter, away from the Orcs. Hopefully, she can heal him.

Hopefully.

“We are making progress,” Oin says, wiping his forehead. Gaia hums, keeping her eyes on the water. They need to get to land.

After they made their way through the worst parts of the river, the water became calmer. As the water slows, the ice block starts to melt.

Gaia tries her best to keep the ice from melting until they get to the bedrock, but it would seem fate is not on her side anymore.

“Swim, get to the shore,” Thorin calls while he sinks into the water. Gaia jumps from the block to help Fili with Kili, struggling to get to the bedrock.

The company gets to the shore which is accompanied by groans and some rushed arguments.

Kili takes a few steps, but he sinks to the ground with a groan.

Gaia rushes over to him, her hand on his shoulder.

She sees him trying to cover his wound, but she recognizes the blackness that is evident in his wound. A Morgul shaft.

“We have to keep moving,” Thorin coughs out. Bofur has joined Gaia and Kili, the worry evident in his features.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” Kili says, but neither Gaia nor Bofur believes him.

”On your feet,” Thorin commands Kili, but Gaia prevents Kili from standing up. He frowns at her, but she shakes her head at him.

“Kili’s wounded,” Bofur starts, “His leg needs binding.” Fili comes rushing to aid, helping his brother onto his feet.

Gaia feels the tears stinging her eyes, but she blinks them away. Why does she always jump to the worst conclusions?

Thorin starts about the Orcs. Gaia hears Bilbo contributing his opinion with Balin and Dwalin also talking, but she focuses on Kili.

His leg is only going to get worse. They need to stop. The more time they spend not extracting the poison, the more time it has to spread throughout his whole body.

She has seen what the poison can do and she does not want Kili to suffer such a fate. She has grown quite accustomed to him and she would not let him die like that.

He needs to rest.

“Bind his leg, quickly. You have two minutes,” Thorin interrupts the current conversation, looking at Kili and Bofur. Fili helps his brother back to the ground.

They watch as Bofur and Oin start to bind Kili’s leg. He lets out a few pained groans, his body writhing on the cold rock.

“Kili,” Gaia calls softly. He turns his head to her, trying to smile at her. She reaches her hand to his cheek. Her thumb moves in circles on his cheek, soothing him. “You’ll be all right.”

Gaia hears Ori dumping the water from his boots into the river. She supposes she should do the same. Her head turns to Kili.

“I am going to try to get the water from my clothes and shoes. I will be back to help you,” she says with a weak smile, standing up.

Gaia follows Fili and they sit next to the river, dumping the water from their boots and squeezing the water from their clothes.

“He will be fine, won’t he?” Fili asks with a quiet voice. Gaia snaps her head to Fili, hiding her concern.

“Yes,” she says, but she realizes that she did not sound convincing. “He just needs to rest.” Fili gives a quick nod, his eyes fixated on his boots.

An unfamiliar presence catches Gaia’s attention and she turns her head to the stranger.

Everyone readies themselves for a fight, but the man is quick to warn them with his bow. He might be an even better archer than Kili.

“Do that again and you’re dead,” the man warns.

Gaia relaxes slightly. This man could perhaps be of assistance to them.

Fili has made his way to Kili in the meantime, defending his brother from the stranger.

Balin is the first to approach the man, recognizing the barge from Lake Town.

Gaia smiles to herself as she steadily walks back to Kili. She hands him his boots and some of his clothes which she dried.

“Here,” she whispers while Balin is still busy talking with the man from Lake Town. She wraps a light red and green plant around Kili’s leg, just above his bandaged wound.

“I know that one. An Airuxux,” Kili says hoarsely. Gaia smiles brightly at him and nods.

“Look at you. You even remembered the name,” she jokes. “We just call it “the sucker”,’ she says with a wink. Kili’s brows furrow.

“Why do you call it that?” Gaia ensures that the plant is tucked away from Kili’s eyes so that he cannot see the plant drawing the poison from his blood.

“No idea,” she lies. Kili chuckles lightly, shaking his head.

“It is a strange name.” She hums in agreement when she notices the rest of the company following the stranger.

Fili helps Kili up and supports him with Gaia walking behind them.

Kili rests against the rocks as the man and Balin continue to converse.

Gaia catches that he has children and that his wife has died. She looks at the man with the dark hair while he loads the barrels onto his barge. Something about him seems familiar. She cannot place it.

A soft groan escapes Kili’s lips and she turns her attention to him. Fili also focuses his attention on Kili, but Kili tries to tell them that he is okay.

Kili looks at Gaia and sees her tired eyes, mixed with something else he cannot place. He had thought she could not control water, but she just turned water into ice. He cannot hide his amusement at her skills. Who is she? How did she come to be?

His leg sends a burning pain throughout his whole body and he bites back a groan. He does not want to worry Gaia or Fili. He will survive. He has survived worse.

When his eyes catch the glossed-over ones of Gaia, his heart pains. He does not like to see her like this. She deserves to be always happy, smiling.

His hand moves to hers and he takes her hand in his. He squeezes her hand, to tell her that he will survive. Her grip tightens on his hand.

Gaia focuses on Balin who has offered to pay the man double for smuggling them into Lake Town. She does not have anything of value on her. Perhaps, if she searches through the pockets of the clothes on her, she can find something.

But how is the man going to smuggle them all into Lake Town?

[cilil]

A little more warmth

Eönwë was more surprised that the Balrog had actually remembered the concept of payment in lieu of pillaging than by the offer, but his head and ears were nicely warm now, and he was more fond of the cute white and yellow patterns on blue than he had assumed; he did, however, fear for the bobble's safety just a little bit.  "If it isn't too much trouble," he said, polite as always, yet failed to suppress a giddy smile and blush. Who would've thought that one day he would be the one getting pampered by a big, strong Maia instead of all the expectations of courtship resting on his shoulders? 

❅ Pairings: Gothmog x Eönwë, background Fingon x Maedhros

❅ Characters: Eönwë, Gothmog, Ori, Maedhros, Fingon, Caranthir, Aiwendil (briefly), Nári (mentioned), a guest appearance by a very special mortal

❅ Synopsis: After Gothmog successfully talked Eönwë into going on a date asked Eönwë out, the two Maiar visit the market together to buy some gifts, argue and enjoy each other's company - while making everyone else's day significantly worse. Also featuring a few fun cameos from my giftee's favourite characters.

❅ Featuring: Canondivergence/AU - everyone's alive and happy, holiday fluff, awkward dates, bickering, marketplace stroll, kissing, holding hands, fluff & humor

❅ Warnings: Some sexual humor and innuendo

❅ A gift for @i-did-not-mean-to, written for the @whiteoliphaunt exchange. IDNMT also kindly let me use this super cute star divider.

➥ Read on AO3

"Do you think this is... appropriate?" Eönwë asked bashfully, referring to the fact that his hand was presently being held by a larger, clawed one. 

"How else am I supposed to let everyone know that this hot piece of ass is mine?" Gothmog retorted, chuckling when he looked over to see his not-quite-official lover blushing furiously. 

"Language," Eönwë hissed and squeezed his hand for emphasis, but made no move to pull away. Gothmog had suspected for a while now that he secretly enjoyed open displays of affection and even desire more than he would like to admit, stuck in his mindset of etiquette and propriety as he was. 

"Let's get you something to keep your ears warm, hm? The tips are all red," Gothmog teased, gently tugging on the smaller Maia's feathered ear before pulling him over to the nearest market stand that had any sort of textiles for sale. 

A Dwarf with reddish brown hair was currently leaning over a box filled with wool, engaged in spirited conversation with a dark-haired Human, only for their fun to be woefully interrupted by the appearance of a Balrog. 

"Hey you," Gothmog addressed the Dwarf. "Do you have something to put on the head of a pretty little hero? He's all red from the cold." 

"Gothmog, please." Eönwë flashed the duo an apologetic smile. "He is... very enthusiastic today." 

"Oh, um... that's lovely!" the Dwarf replied with as much elation as he could muster, still seemingly spooked by the way two Maiar had just interrupted his conversation. "I have a couple of hats you could try... woolly ones, some with bobbles too –" 

"A bobble hat. Blue if you have that," Gothmog interrupted, grinning from one non-existent ear to another. 

"Must you always attempt to ridicule me?" Eönwë grumbled, his plumage fluffing up defensively, but the Balrog patted his head as their unwilling acquaintances beheld the spectacle. While the Dwarf searched his wares, nervous but determined and smiling unerringly, the Human appeared to be strangely entertained by the scene she was witnessing. 

"I have blue with a bit of yellow –"

"Perfect." Gothmog snatched the hat he was offered and placed it on the smaller Maia's lovingly patted head, pulling it over his eyes in his enthusiasm. 

"Aww. You look cute. Do you like it?" He flicked the bobble with his claw while Eönwë adjusted the hat and smiled at the friendly Dwarf. 

"It is very lovely, my dear –" His sharp eyes caught the small name tag made of clay that was attached to a thick woolly shawl. "Ori." 

"And it suits you, good sir," Ori complimented, "the blue matches your eyes. Well, um, your current ones, I mean. Mahal told us that your kind can change that at will, but –" 

"Yes, he's very pretty, with and without his blue eyes. And he's my boyfriend," Gothmog cut in, a hint of smugness in his tone. "Do you want the hat, bird? I'll get it for you." 

Eönwë was more surprised that the Balrog had actually remembered the concept of payment in lieu of pillaging than by the offer, but his head and ears were nicely warm now, and he was more fond of the cute white and yellow patterns on blue than he had assumed; he did, however, fear for the bobble's safety just a little bit. 

"If it isn't too much trouble," he said, polite as always, yet failed to suppress a giddy smile and blush. Who would've thought that one day he would be the one getting pampered by a big, strong Maia instead of all the expectations of courtship resting on his shoulders? 

Gothmog, lord and brother to the bane of dwarven kind, leaned closer to Ori who flinched a little. "You. Do you accept gems as payment?" 

"G-gems? Yes, certainly... uh... which ones do you have?" 

Instead of answering, Gothmog merely pointed at his gem-encrusted shoulders. Ori's eyes widened. "Oh! Yes, one of those is quite alright!" 

 ˚ ੈ✧̣̇·˖ 　˚ .　　　✶ ˚　　✦　. 　 ˚　.　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　.  ˚　

"I am most grateful for your kindness, but did you have to scare the poor Dwarf like that?" Eönwë rebuked, the bobble on his head wobbling from the force of his righteous indignation. 

Gothmog took advantage of his momentary distraction to reclaim his hand and hold it as they continued their market stroll. 

"Hey. Now the little guy has a trophy for his bravery, facing the mightiest and most terrible of all Balrogs!" He chuckled to himself. "Nári would try to fight me on that, but she isn't here." 

"Thankfully so." While Eönwë feared no opponent on the battlefield, neither the bite of a Balrog's whip nor the edge of their blades, he knew to respect the sharpness of her tongue. 

"Don't let her hear that either." Gothmog looked around for other things of interest, then suddenly pointed at another stand. "Speaking of people with flaming hair, isn't that the Elf who escaped you back in the day?" 

It was indeed. The former high king of the Noldor, known as Maedhros after his time in Beleriand, was busying himself with the making of candles, carefully dipping them in wax over and over again until he was satisfied with their shape and thickness. 

"How do you even know about that?" Eönwë asked, referring to his companion's previous question. 

"Mairon told us everything," Gothmog shrugged, "and this one escaped us too. Slippery little Elf. But still just as flammable as his father."

Eönwë elbowed him warningly. "If we are to talk to him, please refrain from making such comments. And don't set anything on fire." 

"Fine." 

Maedhros appeared to be blissfully oblivious to their approach, focused on his candles as well as a certain other Noldo manning a stand close by, carving soap and exchanging the occasional glance and smile with him. Eönwë recognised Fingon, yet realised too late that this other former high king was, unfortunately, yet another victim of Gothmog in particular. 

Before he could intervene, they had already spotted each other, and a huge grin appeared on the Balrog's face. 

"Soap, huh?" 

"Would you prefer me carving something out of your horns?" Fingon retorted, managing a smile that was a little too pleasant in return. 

"You could certainly try, little Elf."

"I could indeed. You don't have your friends with you this time." 

"Enough. No more of this," Eönwë said firmly and greeted the two Noldor with a respectful nod. "May we have a look at your wonderful work?" 

"Sure. Though I am not sure what you need a candle for if you have a Balrog with you," Fingon said with a cheeky wink at Maedhros. 

"Some of them are scented," the red-haired Elf hummed, watching wax drip from the candles he was currently working on. "I suspect Balrogs are not." 

"Perfume is even more flammable than incarnates," Gothmog said lightly and walked closer to Maedhros' stand to take a whiff. "What's that supposed to be?" 

"Berries. The others are vanilla and sandalwood." 

"Ah." Gothmog continued sniffing. "Interesting." 

"Nothing you would find in Angband." 

"Heh. You know it." 

Eönwë made sure to stay close to his companion and admired the candles. 

"I didn't know this was one of your hobbies," he said. 

"He has developed quite the skill with candles and other things like them." 

Maedhros blushed furiously, and Gothmog eyed the two Elves as if there was something suspicious about the comment, though whatever hidden meaning it held was lost on the ever innocent wind spirit. 

"And you with soap it seems," Eönwë chirped happily, ignoring the awkward atmosphere, and walked over. "So many lovely scents too... may I touch these?" 

He pointed at the artfully sorted and stacked bars of soap.

"Of course."

"I've had candles, but never soap," Gothmog commented and lowered his head to sniff a green bar Eönwë had picked up for closer inspection. "What's this scent even?"

"Fir," Fingon answered. "You probably didn't have that in Angband either." 

"What's a Balrog supposed to do with a tree anyway? Turn it into firewood?" 

"Please never repeat that when Lady Yavanna is near," Eönwë chided. "Speaking of the lords and ladies though – which scent do you think would please Lord Manwë and Lady Varda, Fingon?"

"Vanilla," Gothmog snorted and proceeded to heartily laugh at his own joke while his three former and current enemies stared at him in silent disbelief. 

 ˚ ੈ✧̣̇·˖ 　˚ .　　　✶ ˚　　✦　. 　 ˚　.　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　.  ˚　

"No. Absolutely not."

"Yes. Very yes." 

"Gothmog, please. How am I supposed to look anyone in the eye after this?"

"You don't have to. I could just take you home and keep you as my pet bird until the end of Arda." 

Eönwë glowered at the grinning Balrog. 

"You are not going to publicly purchase lace underwear for me," he said, slowly and empathically. "Neither I nor poor Caranthir want to have that conversation, I would imagine." 

"If that angry little Elf doesn't want to talk about lace, he shouldn't be making it," Gothmog huffed and gripped Eönwë's hand to pull him over to the stand of Caranthir who was already eyeing them with mild dismay. Unfortunately for the heroic herald, he lacked both the size and strength to prevent the inevitable embarrassment. 

"Hey you," Gothmog greeted the Noldorin prince with his usual lack of courtesy. "Do you think you have something that would look cute on my boyfriend?" 

Eönwë's sigh of exasperation caused all nearby textiles to flutter dangerously and Caranthir to stare in disbelief. 

"Manwë's herald is dating a Balrog of Morgoth?" 

"You watch what you're saying, Elf. The boss doesn't like that name," Gothmog growled before the other Maia could respond. 

Caranthir was still staring. Eönwë resisted the urge to hide his face underneath his wings and cleared his throat. "We have... become more closely acquainted." 

"That's his way of saying we're dating, yes." Gothmog smacked the counter with his free hand. "While I'm at it: Be sure tell your uncle too. Tell him that I meet up with the pretty bird to train now, and afterwards we f–" 

"Gothmog!"

"What?! Just making sure."

"You have said more than enough!" 

Caranthir blinked a few times, watching as the two Maiar turned back to face him after their brief argument. 

"You... you meant that?" 

"Yes! Need I say it again?" 

"No. Please don't." 

He cast one last glance at Eönwë who merely closed his eyes and prayed that all his embarrassment would be cleansed in Arda Healed. 

"Well..." Fighting to regain his composure, Caranthir began to look through his completed pieces. "Are you looking for anything specific?" 

Gothmog shrugged. "No idea. I don't wear underwear myself, so..." 

"Just look for... any sort of bottoms," Eönwë mumbled, the word alone causing him to blush. He didn't consider himself overly squeamish with language – at least not after all the foul words he had heard during the War of Wrath and after – but part of him feared this statement could somehow end up revealing too much. 

"Good idea, bird." Gothmog pulled him closer and rubbed his cheek against the side of his head. "I can already imagine how cute your ass would look in some nice lace panties –" 

Caranthir let out a choked noise of discomfort, but Eönwë's attention was preoccupied with something different. He had dealt with the lewd and vulgar behaviour of Melkor's servants enough times to predict what might be coming next and seized Gothmog's wrist before he could touch the part of his anatomy he was referring to. 

"Not in public," he hissed. "Or else I shall be forced to draw my sword and take your hand."

"Feisty bird." 

"I am a warrior. Never forget that." 

In the meantime, Caranthir had selected a few pieces. With an expression that spoke of defeat, the fire in his dark eyes dim, he showed a skimpy piece of soft blue fabric with white lace. 

"That one would match your hat," he commented. 

Eönwë was unsure whether it was mockery or an earnest attempt at being helpful. 

"Thank you for your trouble," he said with as much grace as he could. "Though I am not sure if you need my measurements or anything...?" 

"You could just try it on," Gothmog suggested with a gentle nudge. 

Maia and Elf alike stared at him, utterly mortified. 

 ˚ ੈ✧̣̇·˖ 　˚ .　　　✶ ˚　　✦　. 　 ˚　.　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔　.  ˚　

"You are terrible." 

Eönwë's tone was still accusatory, but Gothmog remained unfazed. 

"Drink, bird," he encouraged with a gentle nudge – one that would have still sent any incarnate flying, but caused only a mild rustle of feathers thanks to the smaller Maia's impeccable stance and balance. 

"Fine," Eönwë mumbled and took a sip of mulled wine, critically eyeing the beverage. The taste was more pleasant than he had anticipated, but he needed to be careful not to drink too much, lest he be seen tipsy or even drunk in the company of a Balrog. His lack of alcohol tolerance was something other Maiar, particularly those in Oromë's, Tulkas' and of course Melkor's service, liked to tease him about. 

"Hey, don't look so glum. Don't you like shopping?" Gothmog held the bag filled with various items they had acquired up with one claw, and Eönwë couldn't help chuckling lightly. Neither of them seemed like the type to enjoy a quiet marketplace stroll, but it had been surprisingly pleasant, even with the Balrog's tendency to tease and intimidate other visitors. 

"I will never hear the end of this," Eönwë lamented, though more for show than out of actual annoyance, and downed half of his cup for dramatic effect. "Buying underwear together with the Lord of Balrogs... oh the amount of questions I will have to answer." 

"I don't get why people are even wondering," Gothmog shrugged and practically inhaled his wine, causing steam to rise from his mouth and nostrils. "I mean, what's there to ask? Everyone's seen that cute ass of yours, and I bet I'm not the only one who –" 

"Enough," Eönwë hissed. Aiwendil, who had been feeding some pigeons nearby, was staring at them with wide, curious eyes, but squirrelled away when he realised he had been noticed. 

"Anyway. It's mine and I want it to look pretty." 

"If you insist." 

"Aw, birdie..." Gothmog wrapped one arm around his shoulder, and Eönwë found himself reflexively leaning against him despite his (futile) attempts at salvaging his dignity. "I was hoping that, if I get you some nice stuff for your collection, you'll be in the mood to try on those panties later... and show me how pretty you look in them..." 

"We shall see if your behaviour warrants such a reward."

"Must you always be so strict with me? And with yourself too?" 

When Eönwë looked up at his companion, surprised by his observation, Gothmog's smile was weirdly disarming. 

"Y-you need to understand that I need to maintain a certain decorum, even though I... admittedly have grown quite fond of you," he attempted to explain himself. 

Gothmog shook his head. "Eh, I'm sure they want you to believe that, but you also know we think differently. You deserve to have fun too." 

His expression shifted to a devious grin. "As do I. May I perhaps have a kiss then?" 

"In public?" Eönwë asked nervously. 

In lieu of a response, Gothmog dropped the bag, fished a mistletoe twig out of it and held it over their heads with his free hand – an easy feat thanks to his greater size. 

"See? Now we're basically socially obligated to kiss." 

"Did... did I already say you are –"

"Terrible? Yes. And smart and handsome too."

"Was this Melkor's idea?" 

"Maybe. Does it matter?" 

It didn't, and Eönwë knew just as well as Gothmog did that he tended to talk too much and ask too many questions when he was flustered. Accepting that he had been outsmarted by his fiery lover and mortal enemy, he proudly raised his head to receive a searing hot yet gentle kiss. 

taglist: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @melkors-big-tits @singleteapot @wandererindreams

[shirefantasies]

FIC RECS MASTERLIST

I wanted a place to share all my favorite works in this community and find them again- please check these all out 🥰 and check back here too, because this will definitely be getting added to 😁

Lord of the Rings- Multiple/All Characters

You’re in the Fellowship and the Hobbits Have a Crush On You- @wordbunch

How You First Met- @rivendell-poet

Cuddling With Them- @princessofgondor

The Fellowship + Romance- @ironmandeficiency

How You Look After the Hobbits When They're Sick- @wordbunch

The Fellowship With an Oblivious-to-Flirting Tenth Walker- @rivendell-poet

The Fellowship Around Their Crush- @live-laugh-legolas

Lord of the Rings- Single Character

Histories and Legacies- Eowyn x GN!Reader- @tobylix-blog

Pippin x F!Human!Reader- @r0se1111

Your Own Stars- Arwen x F!Reader- @friendship-ditch

Gentle Dark- Haldir x F!Elf!Reader- @gloomwitchwrites

Sugar and Cinnamon- Eowyn x F!Reader- @friendship-ditch

I Forgive You- Eomer x GN!Reader- @wild-lavender-rose

Eowyn SFW Alphabet- @wordbunch

Platonic Aragorn x Writer!Reader- @heliads

My Sweet Girl- Eowyn x F!Maid!Reader- @welikeimagines-andfandoms

Thunderstorm- Eowyn x Wife!Reader- @welikeimagines-andfandoms

The Hobbit- Multiple/All Characters

Ways Thorin’s Company Remember You On Their Journey- @brainrotbabe24

Thorin’s Company’s Favorite Slang (Humor)- @welikeimagines-andfandoms

Kissing the Mirkwood Elves- @theelvenhaven

Cuddling With Thorin's Company- @kilibaggins

The Hobbit- Single Character

Courting Thorin Would Include- @ghostwholikesghosting

How Was Your Day?- Dis x F!Human!Reader (Smut)- @filiswingman

Chamomile Tea- Sigga (Dwarf OC) x F!Human!Reader (Fluff)- @filiswingman

Loving Stares- Bofur x F!Reader- @andinthedarknessbindthem

Apple of My Eye- Ori x F!Reader- @i-did-not-mean-to

Bard x Mermaid!Reader- @welikeimagines-andfandoms

Dressed to the Nines- Bilbo x GN!Dwarrow!Reader-@immawriteyouthings

[bluebellhairpin]

Thorin Oakenshield X Fem!Reader

Summary; The journey to Erebor takes you deeper into the dangers of Middle-Earth, and the promise you and Thorin made is put to the test.

Warnings; Talks of nightmares (visions of the future). Injuries and blood. One (1) swear word. Reader is female-body-coded, uses she/her pronouns, and is Human (Is called 'lass' once).

Listening to; 'Movement' by Hozier - "You are a call to motion, there, all of you a verb in perfect view."

Part 3 || Part 5

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Thunderous booms, flashes of light and stone, rain that feel like thick fat needles. 

Glimpses of a future ahead were what woke you with a start. It was before dawn, only just, and already a few around you were quietly starting to pull on coats and pack up their bags. 

You stayed shocked still, your heart hadn’t yet slowed from the distressing dream which had you frozen in place. Something about this one felt different. More urgent. 

More real. 

Maybe it just came with the knowledge that this was a future - yours, and that of those around you. But your gut was telling you it was because this one was to be coming soon. You knew you saw nothing in order, you’d seen nothing come to play in front of you as it had in your visions - not yet.

But, that was going to change. 

You left Rivendell with a heavy heart. 

The comforts of the Elven city were now behind you, though still at such a close distance that you could turn back and look at it longingly. You knew trouble lay ahead - so far very few of your visions had come to fruition, and they seemed to only get worse, worrying you more, and more frequently. 

You were quite sick of them, in all honesty. 

“You need to keep a clear head.” Thorin called out to you, garnering your attention over the heads of a half dozen Dwarves. “If that means staying out of it, then stay out.” His words were harsh, laced with bitterness fueled by nothing but habit. 

He was right, though. If you were to help anyone, you needed to be on the ball. You nodded, firmly and quietly - Thorin seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if he expected you to fight back as usual, when you didn’t and simply kept moving, he resolved to do the same. 

Ori looked up at you from where he walked just behind you, all big eyes in his young face - or young for a Dwarf. 

“What?” you asked. He blinked.

“He isn't fighting you anymore.” You looked back at him, mouthing gaping open once, before closing again, and you looked ahead. Your eyes drew to Thorin. “You aren’t fighting him either.”

“I guess I’m not.” 

“It’s strange. To see it.” Ori commented again. “But it feels… normal.” 

You said nothing. 

“Something changed last night,” he said, kicking a rock ahead of you on the path. Bombur stepped on it. “When you both talked. It was something good, wasn’t it?” 

It really wasn’t, you felt. 

But when you looked back at him, he looked so hopeful. He was still so young, yet he was here. He was going to see awful things, you knew that - but if you could stop some of it, save someone, save that hopefulness, then did he really need to know? 

“It was Ori,” you said, “It was good.” 

Thorin felt sour inside. 

He’d pushed Balin ahead, saying he knew these paths better - he did - but Thorin knew them enough to lead everyone too. He really just wanted some time to think. To plan. 

Your meeting with the Lady Galadriel, and his with Lord Elrond - he needed to take it all in. 

Now he knew they had a time limit, that you were more important than he had thought or believed. Even something so little as how easy you actually got along now that both your pride’s were cast aside - he had no idea why it was that easy to do. You couldn’t have bewitched him, he knew that, but it would be so easy to think it. 

It filled him with a warmth of both fondness and anger - like steel or gold turning soft under the heat of fire - when he dwelt on it. So he didn’t. 

He was too busy right now to do that anymore anyway. 

The grass and mountains turned into rocky ledges - a slippery narrow path where one wrong foot could lead to a long and unpleasant fall. He was stuck thinking on his feet - where they were meant to go - and making sure everyone else did the same, while trying to keep an eye out through the rain for a place to shelter. 

Then, a crack of thunder, and he heard an unfamiliar yell. He heard you yell. 

Thorin had been keeping an eye on you, the way you migrated from the middle of the group to the back, and how you kept your eyes to the skies through the fabric of your hood - you were scared of heights. But even so, you hadn't made a single noise of distress until now. 

Thorin saw you yelling to Dwalin halfway up the group, unable to hear what you said through the rain. Then the message was relayed from Dwalin to Balin, and from Balin to him. 

“The lass says she’s seen this!” Balin said. 

“When?” Thorin frowned, then yelled to you “When!” your reply was faint, but he made out your words. 

“Last night!” 

“What do we do?” 

“Move!” you said, clutching the wet stone beside your head, “Quickly!”

Quickly they moved. The pace made room for more mistakes, more slip ups on the wet stone, but not one had yet fallen. 

Officially, you’d moved to the back of the group. Pushing everyone closer, keeping everyone nearby - Thorin could feel your haste and worry from all the way at the other end of the Company. Whatever you’d seen had you thoroughly panicked.

He’d never seen you lose your composure quite like this before. 

He didn’t know what you’d seen, but the promise he made pressed to the front of his skull - to do anything you said to keep everyone safe. He was going to move, and he would make everyone move too. 

Only a few more minutes passed before he, and everyone else, knew why you were so keen on moving out of these mountains so fast. 

“Giants!” Bofur called.

A too-large boulder was thrown and hit the mountain above the Company with a mighty crack, sending smaller boulders and rubble down past where everyone stood. Thorin, with a well-worn instinct that matched the others, pressed himself to the rock face, sheltering from the stone storm. 

“Move!” you called, pointing further up the path, “Don’t stop moving!” But everyone was either frozen in place, or stuck by those frozen - too stuck sheltering to risk moving and getting hurt. Thorin himself felt his feet unable to move, try as he might. 

The mountain above gave way with a groan, and the Company was divided in two under another downpour of rocks. 

Thorin knew he should listen to you - it was his biggest takeaway from tolerating those Elves, and this time he didn’t. He was too slow. Was this where he died? Where someone else died instead? 

He didn’t want to believe it. Even though he did, for a few fleeting moments hit with the cold, cruel idea that half his Company, including you and Fili, and the Hobbit, had died. He didn’t have to believe it. 

They were there, groaning and bruised in a lump of squirming limbs. He watched you push yourself up beside Fili, clutching a cut on your forehead that was weeping red - he doubted you were the only one who needed a moment to recover. 

And the mountain provided such a haven. 

A calm has settled over the group, resting on their shoulders and hair and clothes like dust collecting in an unused fire pit. Try as he might, Thorin was not sleeping that night. 

He’d watched as everyone took a place to rest. 

Watched as Oin finally convinced you to let him take a look at your head, cleaning the fresh wound that wove down from your hairline to your eyebrow. Even in the dark he could see the cut glinting with fresh blood waiting to scab over - they had nothing to fix it with. The hope would be that the bleeding stopped soon, and you’d run into no more trouble for a little while longer so it could heal enough to not tear open more. 

Then, he watched you sleep. He wondered how tiring it was, and worn you must've felt after what happened. Knowledge no one else knew was no easy weight to carry. He was glad that you appeared to be getting rest though. Thorin saw how your hands tucked under your arms to keep your fingers warm, and how your clothes rose and fell on top of your deep breaths of sleep. He found himself dozing off despite his resolve not to. 

But he was a light sleeper. 

You jolted awake, not from a dream but to a reality. 

Barely having time to react, you grabbed onto anything in an effort to keep your bearings as the ground underneath where you slept fell away. In your confusion and fear, you heard yourself ask what was happening in a stolen breath - your fall changed into a tumbling slide, which wasn’t helping to answer whatever unknown question was floating in your head. 

Someone's hand had your nose, then a foot clashed into your shin. An axe flew past your face - a narrow miss if there ever was one. Then you landed with a thump on top of someone's stomach, only for someone else to land on yours. 

“What do you guys eat,” you asked, wheezing, “You land like rocks.” 

“Bombur’s cooking does that to a Dwarf.” Someone mumbled behind you. 

Before you could stand, you felt a hand curl around your ankle, yanking you from the pile of writhing bodies. An unflattering squeal left your lips as you looked down to see boney fingers and yellow flesh. 

You kicked it with your other foot, then it was grabbed. You tried turning over to claw your hands into the wood to pull yourself away only for your arms to be snatched too. You were pushed and pulled into a standing position and then practically yanked forwards. 

Then you got a proper look at where you were. 

Standing a few inches taller than the Dwarves and these creatures whose capture you had - literally - fallen into, suddenly became a slight advantage. 

You were in a large cavern, being pushed along rickety wooden paths that groaned so loudly under the commotion that you wondered if they’d give way with the weight. The creatures themselves didn’t evoke much more reassurance. Goblins, if the Trolls from a few days ago were anything to go by. All beady eyes and mouths sending spittle in every direction. 

One came up to your face, climbing over the others to get a proper look at the Human among Dwarves - even pressed a curled nail into the skin next to your cut. A sibling anger to the ones currently in your fellowship rose inside you. 

“Oh! A real charmer aren’t you?” you said, leaning your weight on the two either side holding your arms to kick him in the chest, sending him flying backwards off into the dark chasm below. 

Then hands curled around your legs, puppeting you into walking but restricting enough to stop anymore deadly outbursts. 

 “Don’t fucking touch me! Let me go you wimpy,” you grunted, pulling an arm free and pushing one's face so hard as to send him back a few paces, “- Troll Swine!” 

A few moments later, you were brought to a standstill. 

You had been so focused on directly around you that you hadn’t realized exactly what was further around you. If this were a nest, you’d found yourself in the deep heart of it. 

But right in front of you was - probably - the ugliest looking thing you’d laid eyes on. You wished you could lay your eyes anywhere else, but there was some morbid curiosity inside you wondering how this… thing could end up looking quite like that. 

“Whose in my kingdom. How dare this come to be? What other purpose but for trouble?” he asked, and a much smaller Goblin bumbled forward.

“A Human, and Dwarves, sleeping right on our front porch.” 

You saw his eyes widen, and then barked orders for you all to be searched - you looked down at the Goblin in front of you. 

“Your fingers go in any flaps of my clothing, and I break them.” He didn’t touch you. 

“What are you doing here?” The Goblin King asked. But was met with silence. “Speak!” 

You looked over at Thorin, he was saying nothing, so neither were you. You knew he’d know what to do. 

You weren’t quite sure how it happened, but you were finally getting away. No one was being crushed, or having their limbs torn from their bodies - in fact the Company was dealing more damage than they were being dealt. 

You were in awe at how well they, and Gandalf, worked together. Like a well oiled machine, with all its parts precisely where they should be. You almost didn’t know where you’d fit in - what you could do to help rather than be a hindrance. 

But thinking you didn’t fit in, that you couldn’t, wasn’t going to help anyone. The course of events, the way everyone was fighting, you quickly found yourself beside Thorin himself. 

And you worked together like a river over rocks. It was like you were made for it. 

You pushed past waves and waves of Goblins, swinging at heads with your new swords as Thorin took aim lower. You were so under qualified for a fight like this, but you knew it had to be done - you knew you had to try. 

And Thorin, despite in the heat of battle, took the time not only to make sure you were still following and close, but once smiled. Small and fleeting, but a smile nonetheless. It told you without words that your best was good enough. That you were proving yourself worthy of being here despite your inexperience. 

Thorin came to an abrupt stop in front of you, having to put an arm out to steady both himself and you - having come half barreling into his back and Gandalf’s along with half the Company. 

The Goblin King stood in front of you, large and looming. You hoped Gandalf had a plan, for you at least had no answers, nor an idea of a way out of where you were now. All you knew - having then been hit by the sudden realisation - was that you would get out. 

Visions told of horrors ahead, ones felt and seen by all those around you - ones that did not play out trapped in this mountain, surrounded by Goblins and their King. 

Gandalf was doing a head count. Thorin had come to stop near Dwalin - his friend clapped his shoulder gently - and then he looked at you. 

Drawn, in a way. 

Your cut had worked open, weeping and glistening red like a ruby, but not bleeding. Not yet. You were still okay. An important piece of this journey, something as crucial as the map or key to burglar, was you. Maybe what he was feeling was just because he knew you were so vital. 

Even so, he couldn’t help thinking that wasn’t the only reason he was feeling so kindly of you, even though it might’ve only been yours. 

“Where is Bilbo?” Gandlaf asked, realising now that the Company was one short. “Where is the Hobbit? Pray, tell,” he said, approaching you as you looked up at him with fingers still gingerly tracing the edges of your injury, “Have you seen him?” 

You shook your head, no. You hadn’t. 

“I think I saw him slip away unnoticed,” Nori piped, “When they were first corralling us.” Thorin felt anger swell inside him. A knowledge he was right all along about Bilbo - that he wasn’t truly here to help, that he wasn’t taking this journey as seriously as he should be. 

“What happened,” Gandalf asked, “Exactly?” 

“I’ll tell you what happened.” Thorin started, stepping forward. He saw you lean back against a tree with a sigh - you didn’t like where this was going, but he went on anyway. After all, why would it bother him what you thought? “The Master Hobbit saw his chance to leave and he took it. Longing for nothing but his warm bed and hearth since he left it. We won't be seeing him again, he will be long gone.” 

Then something startled you, something you only noticed, and Bilbo stepped out from behind the tree you were leaning on. 

“No he isn’t.” 

“Bilbo!” You gasped, turning at his voice, face lighting up through your pain at the sight of your friend once lost, returned. 

It was clear you thought of that halfling fondly, and it filled Thorin with a small nagging guilt that he spoke so harshly of someone you regarded so highly. The Company likewise welcomed Bilbo back, with commendation and glee. He told of how he was homesick, how he had a home to return to - and how they did not. 

It struck a chord in Thorin. One that added to the song that was making up his guilt of past and present hostility. 

“With you're sneaking around like that Biblo,” he heard you say, “Oh, I had such a hunch you’d make a good burglar!” The Hobbit laughed half-heartedly, but you didn’t notice. A howl reached where you stood from the distance - a Warg - and Thorin watched you closely as you looked around only for your face to fall completely in recognition. 

You searched the group for someone - for him - and he felt he knew what you were going to say. 

“I know this - I’ve seen this place,” you said, he tentatively stepped forward only for you to stop him, “No, we need to leave.” 

“Orcs?” Balin asked. Your eyes fell, but you shoved those closest to you to start moving. Your head shook, and Thorin could see how your hold tightened on your sword. 

“Azog.” 

You remembered falling asleep to the deep humming of Dwarves, and the smell of coals burning. You were filled with warmth, inside and out, and you knew a piece of you would be left there by that hearth even after you’d left it. 

But that night, a night weeks ago - the night you spent in safety besides Bilbo’s fire in the Shire - held a bad omen. 

It held a dream of uprooted dirt, scraped knees, and palms stinging from the bark of fallen trees. The smell of a forest burning, and the sound of cries for help. A flash of teeth and fur, and promises in a tongue you didn’t understand. 

You saw eagles flying, and you saw Thorin dying.

[andinthedarknessbindthem]

Bofur x Reader - Loving Stares

This is based on a 'Sickeningly Sweet Relationship Bingo Card' that I found and forgot to save. So if I find that post, I'll add it here!

I'm a bit rusty since I haven't written since 2019, so please feel free to send requests or comments on anything I need to change! Thank you and much love! <3

✿ Words: 1,214

✿ Themes: Fluff

✿ Prompt: Staring into each other's eyes.

✿ Posted: 2/11/23

Tonight had been an especially frigid night. You had been tossing and turning just trying to keep your body warm by the fire. It was truly an unpleasant night. If you were on your back, your right side was cold. But if you were on your stomach your left side was cold. It was even worse when you completely faced or turned away from the fire.

After what seemed to have been hours (but was realistically only minutes), you sat up with a defeated sigh. There was no way you were going to get any sleep tonight. You looked around the clearing and over all of the sleeping dwarves. They all seemed so peaceful and content when they aren’t fighting orcs or fleeing for their lives. The light crackling of the fire and the soft breaths and snores soothe your thoughts.

You slowly stood up from your bedroll, moving close to the fire with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. A glint of eyes in the tree line caught your attention as you sat on a tree log next to the fire. You narrowed your eyes to try and get a better look at who it was, a small smile spreading over your lips. It looks like Ori was on watch. Silently waving at him, he returned the gesture with a bright smile.

What a sweetheart.

You turned your attention back to the fire, only now noticing how stiff your hands felt. Attempting to warm them, you lightly rubbed them together close to the fire. A slight breeze blew past, making your whole body shiver. You were so cold that jumping into the fire seemed like a viable option.

“Psst.” A quiet voice cut through the air, pulling you out of your trance. Your eyes jumped from dwarf to dwarf to skim the faces around the flames until you spotted Bofur, eyes slightly cracked open.

You silently tilted your head in question. His hand raised and signaled you over.

Bofur had always been the most approachable of the dwarves to you. When you first ran across them, they all seemed skeptical of you. But not Bofur, he accepted you with open arms and an open heart, making you feel like he genuinely cared for you.

He had been your go-to person when you need a lookout to wash up or if you generally needed help with something. Truthfully, you found yourself falling for him with every sweet thing he said or did for you.

One moment that stood out, in particular, was the first week you traveled with the company. Your body hadn’t been used to walking for long distances yet. Aches and cramps plagued your muscles with every passing day. One night, He came up to you with no words, just lifted your legs onto his lap and slowly started to rub your tense calves. His fingers were like heaven against your skin, applying just enough pressure to work out the strained muscles but soft enough that it didn’t hurt.

You stood again, crossing your arms to contain your light shivering. Slowly moving towards him and being as quiet as possible not to wake any of your other friends.

When you finally reached him, you took notice of how the flickering light of the fire licked over his skin deliciously. His hat was discarded to the side of his bedroll. You swallowed thickly, pushing down any depraved thoughts.

He didn't say anything as you looked down on him. He just smiled that lovely smile up at you, eyes half-lidded. His arms raised towards you causing your head to quirk in silent question. Slowly, the gears turned in your head, your cheeks heating up as his actions finally dawned on you.

He wanted you to share his bedroll.

“Oh, Bofur.” You started with a swift shake of your head “Uh- I shouldn’t… cant! I can’t.” You corrected yourself.

“Just lay down lass.” His voice was thick with sleep. You blinked for a few seconds before lowering yourself onto your knees at the very edge of his bedroll. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you forward onto his chest. You did your best to haphazardly toss your blanket on you both.

“Mahal (Y/N), you’re freezing.” He cringed, eyes clenching closed as your frozen skin meshed with his own warmth.

You placed your hands on his chest to push yourself up before speaking, “I’m sorry, I can go back to the fire.” Your breath hitched when his arms tightened around you, not letting you up.

Both of his eyes opened now, a subtle look of concern peeking out. “No. Stay.” The desire in his voice kept you locked in place. You waited for any sign of reconsideration but there was none.

Slowly lowering yourself back down onto him, you began shifting around for a moment, his arms loosening to allow you to get comfortable. As you slid off of his chest to lay next to him, his left arm moved underneath your head as his right rested on your waist.

You couldn’t help the content hum that passed your lips. He was providing enough warmth under the blankets for the both of you.

Everything was so quiet, despite the occasional crackle and snore. Time seemed to slow in this position. Both of you stared into each other's eyes like you were entranced. After a while, his right arm tugged you closer so your torsos were pressed together. You're sure that your face is bright red now. When his right arm slowly moved upwards, fingers lightly trailing against your skin, a shiver ran up your spine.

You open and close your mouth looking for the right thing to say, but settled on bringing a hand up to stroke one of his soft braids. His hand comes to rest on your cheek, thumb rubbing in warm circles.

Unknowingly, you both had been closing the small gap between each other. You could feel a light brush of his mustache against your cheeks.

So close…

Watching carefully as Bofur’s eyes moved down your face, pausing on your lips before making their way up again. Your heart fluttered excitedly, the cold air soon forgotten.

Bofur’s thumb lightly brushed over your bottom lip, leaving a hot trail in its wake. Your eyes flickered between his as you pushed forward, your lips connecting hungrily. You were completely at his mercy.

Despite Bofur's lips being lightly chapped, they were soft against your own. His tongue teased at your lower lip, moving into a light nibble. A soft moan escaped your throat as you parted your lips for him. Your tongues mingled together, he was so warm and sweet.

Bofur pulled back, littering a trail of kisses over your cheek and down to your neck. Any attempt to catch your breath was halted when he began to suck the skin meeting at your shoulder, a quiet whimper flitting past your lips. You could feel his grin widen against your flesh as he placed one last kiss on the spot.

He pressed his face into your hair, whispering a small, “Bunnanunê.”

You reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair. “What does that mean?” You hummed.

“My tiny treasure.” Bofur breathed before removing himself from your hair and taking your lips again.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Week 4 - Critters

Here it is, the Bagginshield chapter :p

Prompt: Critters

Pairing: Thorin x Bilbo

Words: 2 965

Warnings: Danger, wargs, sexual tension, a kiss

Bilbo sat down heavily on the soft mattress and sighed.

His head was spinning with the latest developments, and he could hardly believe that—within the span of a single night—he’d gone from the hard forest floor to one of the most luxurious feather beds he’d ever seen.

His natural curiosity and worrisome desire for adventure had driven him across the world many a time before, but he’d never made any discovery half as confusing and wondrous as this secret society of charmingly short men.

Moreover, he’d never met a king before, and he wondered whether it was normal to be filled with such deep awe and admiration in the face of Thorin’s magnificence.

“Are you all right?” Elya’s soft voice came from the small door beside the fireplace. She had discarded her muddy clothes and was leaning against the sturdy wooden frame in nought but her practical underwear.

“I’m fine, dear,” Bilbo replied, squashing the inkling of guilt that was scratching at his thoughts. He felt bad for insinuating that the King and his subjects had despicable designs on his little assistant when they’d been nothing but courteous thus far.

Mayhap, he now admitted to himself, he was simply projecting his own twisted insecurities upon everyone around him. In fact, he’d seen Elya in various states of undress before, and he’d never batted an eye.

How could he just assume others would harbour dark thoughts?

As he now looked upon her natural, feminine beauty without the slightest shade of desire or possessiveness and saw her soft smile, he realised that she knew.

Elya had probably known from the start that he was not attracted by women—why else would she have agreed to accompany a man that much older than herself on a mission during which she would inevitably be at the mercy of all his appetites and flaws?

“You like the look of that dwarf,” he said. It was not a question.

“So do you,” she retorted with a mocking giggle. “Not the same one, obviously! Thanks to them, neither one of us is dead, so I’d dare say that it’s not a crime to enjoy beauty, is it?”

Pursing his lips, Bilbo regarded her thoughtfully—overwhelmed by the impression Thorin had made on him, he could almost imagine what it would feel like for a “normal” man to look at her.

Elya was not exactly the kind of woman who drew every eye in a crowded room, but she was not an ugly girl by any means either. Cerebral and somewhat effaced, she only ever came alive when a conversation moved past the initial stages of shallow small talk.

“Be careful, my girl,” he finally said. “You don’t know what is going on in his head.”

“Do you think me unable of wilful seduction?” Elya grinned. “Do you need a lesson to tempt that stern King?”

Fluffing up defensively, Bilbo waved his hands. “Go to sleep; you’re talking humbug!” he scoffed, but his cheeks felt treacherously warm, nonetheless.

“Sleep tight,” Elya chirped and disappeared into the adjoining room, whistling to herself softly.

Despite his inner turmoil and the contradicting impulses racing through his tired brain and leaden limbs, Bilbo fell into a deep, dreamless sleep almost at once.

He knew not how long he’d been out cold when a discreet knock at the door made him bolt upright in befuddled alarm.

“Yes?” he called uncertainly, moving his stiff jaw to dispel the thick taste of slumber from his heavy tongue. “Come in!”

“Mister Bilbo,” Ori said as he poked in his head. “I’ve come to tell you that Thorin is waiting for you by the main gate. Fíli will accompany you downstairs so you don’t get lost.”

As he registered the flustered movements of Ori’s fingers tightening spasmodically around the stack of notebooks he was holding, Bilbo’s gaze grew sharp with suspicion.

“And you?”

“I’ve been advised to take Miss Elya back to the gardens so that we may compare notes.”

“Is that what you call it hereabouts?” Bilbo snapped curtly.

“I don’t understand your meaning,” Ori replied quietly—sudden panic had drained his face of all colour and his eyes were dark lakes of unrest. “I don’t seek to harm her; you have my word.” “You take care of yourself, my boy,” Bilbo sighed. “I’d never thought it possible, but Elya might well try to take a bite out of you.”

“Bite me?” Nervous fear was seamlessly replaced by profound incomprehension. “Why would she do something so unreasonable?”

Sighing, Bilbo decided that he was too tired still to be having useless conversations such as the one he found himself enmeshed in now—he’d warned the boy; there was not much more he could do.

Under Ori’s still-dumbfounded gaze, he checked his kit and swapped his sweat-drenched shirt for a clean one before declaring confidently that he was ready to observe and document whatever enigmatical critter the King wanted to show him.

“Wargs also bite,” Ori commented. “Thorin sends this so you may wear it—for your protection.”

The dwarf held out a shimmering shirt of alluringly archaic chainmail that glittered like starlight encased in polished crystal in the wavering light.

“Oh, it will be too heavy,” Bilbo tried to protest, but—when the odd garment was handed over—he had to admit that it was much lighter than it had any right to be.

He couldn’t fathom what good so light a safeguard would be, but he didn’t want to scorn his host’s generosity, so he slipped into the strange shirt before putting on his overcoat.

“I shall thank him,” he said as he walked past Ori out of the room.

“It’s Mithril,” Ori explained. “Light as a feather but surprisingly durable. May it serve you well. Elya—is she…”

“Elya!” Bilbo bellowed, banging his fist thrice against her door as he went. “Your beau is here to look at your sketches!”

And, on that excessively, embarrassingly petulant note, he stomped off towards the glint of gold at the other end of the hallway.

Fíli merely nodded, but Bilbo could see the grin he desperately tried to hold back tugging at the corners of his mouth beneath the luscious moustache.

As promised, Thorin was standing in the foyer leading to the main entrance to his hidden kingdom.

Suppressing a little gasp of dreamy recognition, Bilbo drew closer. Alarm bells went off in his head at the sight of the impressive sword hanging from the King’s belt and the realisation that Thorin was also fully armoured.

“You wanted to see beasts,” the regal apparition of dark blues and flashing silver grinned when he noticed Bilbo. “So, I’m going to give you exactly that.”

Despite remembering that he could never tell another soul about what he’d seen on the island and wondering why Thorin went to such lengths, Bilbo nodded gratefully.

A tiny part of his heart hoped and prayed that the dwarves acted in such an illogical fashion because they wanted to please their guests.

As he was mostly mocked or ignored by the people around him, Bilbo couldn’t help but feel immensely gratified by so benevolent a behaviour.

“It will be dangerous, though,” the King warned him in a soft, insistent voice. “Please stay behind me.”

The feeble, deflecting joke died on Bilbo’s lips when he met those hypnotising eyes of burning azure, and so he merely nodded and followed wordlessly.

Again, he had to wonder why the ruler of a purposefully secret island realm would take such precautions to safeguard the life of an intruder—he stopped dead in his tracks.

“You’re not going to betray me by feeding me to some unholy, toothy creature, will you?” he asked Thorin’s broad back.

Bilbo had expected blustering anger or cold disdain from the King, but—when he finally turned around as one aged beyond his years—there was only a wistful expression of profound sadness on his elegant, sharp features.

“No,” Thorin sighed. “The thought has grazed my mind, I won’t lie, when my nephews informed me of the presence of unbidden strangers camping in the woods. A moment of despicable weakness that reminded me of the failures of my kin which I regret most earnestly, I assure you. No, I’ve invited you to my Halls, and—as my esteemed guests—you are under the protection of my people and my heart.”

“Your heart?” Bilbo squeaked breathlessly.

“Would it be too forward to confess that your arrival, Master Baggins, is the single most intriguing and delightful event that has happened in this forsaken domain for countless years?”

Bilbo shook his head—he could feel his ears warming up with emotion, so he ducked his head and buried his hands in his pockets for fear that he’d fall prey to one of the maudlin, ridiculous gestures of which he’d accused his poor assistant.

The weakness coursing through his veins was only too common amongst humans, and he instinctively wondered whether someone as formidable as Thorin could and would feel the same tingling of aimless anticipation in so compromising and potentially romantic a situation.

For what felt like half an eternity, they clambered over rocks and pushed through dense foliage in comfortable, companionable silence.

“There they are now,” Thorin whispered as he made a complicated, meaningful gesture that sent Fíli scampering away.

“Where is he…” Bilbo hissed frantically. Thorin had brought him to a stony ledge, overlooking a shallow valley, littered with boulders and dry, dead bushes—looking around, the seasoned researcher recognised with a chill that they’d returned to almost the exact spot from which he’d been taken to meet that mesmerising king now squatting low to the ground and pulling him down with him.

“He’s going to rouse the beasts so you may see them in motion,” Thorin chuckled. “Wargs are fearsome creatures, great hunters and ruthless murderers, and we usually try to avoid them.”

By now, Bilbo sorely regretted his careless words—he’d never sought to expose himself or his hosts to unnecessary danger.

“Don’t worry,” Thorin said soothingly. “Fíli is a brave warrior, and he’s young enough to take great pleasure in tugging at an inveterate foe’s tail.”

Before Bilbo could fill the suddenly oppressive silence that fell between them like a corrupting mist, heavy with possibilities and unspoken desires, with inane, breathless babbling, a great cacophony of howls arose from below.

“Here they come,” Thorin husked.

Eyes wide with shock and instinctive curiosity, Bilbo Baggins watched the huge monstrosities leap to their massive paws and snap their frightening fangs warningly at one another.

It turned out that the misshapen rocks he’d seen glimmering in the moonlight had not been mineral in nature; Bilbo gulped as he realised just in how much danger he and Elya had really been when the dwarven scouts had found them.

“Canine?” he whispered to himself, wondering whether this strange animal was more akin to a wolf or a bear.

Thorin frowned. “They’re alien to everything and everyone,” he then simply said and gave a lopsided shrug. “Hostile and dangerous.”

As if to prove his point, one frighteningly big, densely muscled specimen launched itself off a rocky outcrop and lunged at them, its ghastly fangs bared and glistening like tarnished gold in the moonlight.

Before Bilbo could so much as shriek in terror, Thorin had drawn the sword at his hip and brought it down in a silver arc across the deep blue night sky.

Felled mid-air, the beast thumped to the ground with a sickening noise.

“Forgive me,” Thorin exclaimed. “I woefully underestimated their strength and determination—they’re hungry.”

He’d stepped in front of his paralysed guest instinctively, and Bilbo’s mouth went dry for entirely different but no less visceral reasons as he stared up at the strong, majestic profile that was outlined in silver thread against the mesmerisingly beautiful background.

Below them, panicked whining and a few yelps of pain and anger resounded.

“We root them out and chase them off,” Thorin explained, nodding at the now deserted valley. “It makes them desperate.”

Nodding solemnly, Bilbo sighed—he understood that a thriving colony could not tolerate the proximity of so vicious and unpredictable a foe, but he also felt sorry for the dumb beasts that only followed their instincts and the secret call of some dark power beyond their understanding or control.

As he observed Fíli’s tireless efforts to rout the pack, Bilbo heard a low wheeze from behind.

Believing the warg to have come back to life, he whirled around, but the impressive carcass was still motionless, its congealing blood looking pitch black in the strange light.

“Thorin?”

“A minor scratch,” the King barked defensively, pressing one broad paw against his ribs.

“Let me see,” Bilbo demanded, regretting having left the bigger part of his first aid supplies in his room.

Nevertheless, his mother had taught him never to go on any adventure wholly unprepared, so he was able to staunch the bleeding and disinfect the wound he’d laid bare by tugging off the heavy coat and the torn tunic from Thorin’s solid frame.

Somewhere, deep within his belly, he took note of the fact that the King didn’t so much as shiver in the cool air—he merely glared at his unwelcome nurse ferociously while stubbornly repeating that he was perfectly fine.

“You’re right,” Bilbo finally said, sitting back on his haunches. “You’ll live. Now, I’ve seen enough for a night. Let’s get you back to safety—I’m sure your own healers can do better than my impromptu dressing.” At the thought of Óin’s inevitable fussing, Thorin groaned again.

To his delight, Bilbo insisted on staying by his side even though he was visibly exhausted after the unexpectedly exciting and potentially deadly outing they’d had.

“Will you escort me to my bedchamber to make sure that I don’t overexert myself?” Thorin asked with a mix of hopefulness and wavering mockery.

“You can bet your sweet ass that I will!” Bilbo grunted resolutely.

“I do not understand what the taste of my behind has to do with anything, but I’d welcome your company. Will you have a glass of wine with me before I am forced into bed like an ailing doter?” Thorin grinned.

The cheerful, invigorated look of one who’d just survived a brush with death suited him, and Bilbo was no longer sure that it was such a great idea to be alone with someone he’d ogled shamelessly for as long as he’d known them.

It was late, they were tired and yet overexcited—this was far from ideal or reasonable.

The same electric, slightly metallic taste of danger flooded the scientist’s tongue, and—true to his imprudent nature—he followed the siren call of a world-altering discovery fearlessly.

The wine was surprisingly sweet and mellow, and Thorin’s smile grew softer with every passing minute as they sat in comfortable silence in his private chambers as if they’d been friends for years and decades.

Friends…or lovers.

The way the King was eyeing him now would definitely have raised some eyebrows, and—had he looked at Elya in such a manner—Bilbo would have seen himself forced to hit him over the head with something solid and heavy.

“Do you like it here?” Thorin then asked without any introduction that might have explained his mental leap. “Is there anything else you’d like to see?”

Pursing his lips and cocking his head, Bilbo thought about that for a moment. “I’ve seen the wargs, I’ve seen your bare chest, and I trust Elya is knee-deep in flower drawings by now—no, for tonight at least, I’m good,” he then said with a playful wink.

“First you make reference to my backside, and then you bring up my chest—Master Baggins, is such a manner of speech usual amongst your people?”

Bilbo was not entirely sure that he had people, but he’d hitherto considered his offhand comments to be mildly offensive at the very worst.

He shrugged sheepishly.

“I don’t know how long you intend to stay on the island,” Thorin went on, a hint of doubt and tension creeping into the still stilted staccato of his diction. “However, I can promise you that there are many interesting things yet to discover.”

As rumbling and unwieldy as his speech might have been, Thorin’s body and instincts were those of a trained warrior, and so he moved with enviable agility and grace despite his injury.

In the blink of an eye, he’d left his seat and was crowding Bilbo against the backrest of his oversized, heavy chair.

“Thank you for taking such pains caring for me—I assure you that it was not necessary,” he said in a low, thrumming voice as he took Bilbo’s hand and lifted it to his lips.

Overwhelmed with the sensation of the King’s astonishingly soft beard tickling his skin, Bilbo nearly forgot the echoing laugh of the resident healer who’d taken one look at Bilbo’s field dressing and had given him an appreciative nod before simply walking out again.

“It was my pleasure,” he said breathlessly, leaning forward slightly to entice Thorin to move his lips to a more interesting spot.

“Is it common among your people to kiss someone’s hand?” he asked in a half-hearted persiflage of the King’s previous exclamation of confusion and frustration.

“Only the hands of those who have previously commented on one’s physical attributes,” Thorin whispered, and then, those strong fingers clasped Bilbo’ chin and tilted it up a fraction.

Thus far, Bilbo had been too much of a realist to give any credence to idiotic notions like fate and love at first sight, but—when Thorin’s lips brushed against his own with both righteous caution and undeniable fervour—he felt something he grudgingly had to identify as faith arise in him.

@fellowshipofthefics

-> Masterlist

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain Chapter 36

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

Please comment, reblog, and like!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

“What’s on your mind?”

Oreliell glanced over at Thorin, who was seated at his desk. He appeared to be combing through various stacks of papers, but she knew that he was still quite attuned to her.

Oreliell sighed.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just feel as though something is wrong.”

Thorin put down his papers and turned in his chair to face her.

“What makes you say that?”

Oreliell hesitated. She wondered if her concerns were simply in her mind, that she was fabricating something out of nothing. 

Thorin stood from his seat and joined her by the large window. He took her hand, prompting her to look at him. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, yet the early morning glow cast a brilliant orange across the study.

“It is far too early to see your face so troubled, gimlelul. You must tell me when something is weighing on you. I cannot read your mind. I leave that job to you sister.”

Oreliell smiled slightly at his attempt to jest, but sighed.

“It is actually Vedis I am worried about. I have not been able to find her.”

“It is still early in the day.”

“Vedis rises earlier than the sun. She always has. Last night, something seemed to be troubling her at dinner. Then during the night, I heard her leave her room. When I checked this morning, she still was not there.”

“Have you tried calling for her?”

“Many times. She has not responded.”

“Is it possible she is simply out of reach?”

“Erebor may be vast, but we have yet to find a distance where she cannot reach me.”

Before Thorin could say anything more, there was an almost frantic knock at the door. The two exchanged glances of confusion.

“Enter,” Throin called.

The door opened slightly and a dwarf popped his head inside.

“Ori?” Oreliell said.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” he said.

“Nonsense, Ori. What is it?” Thorin asked.

“There’s… well, there’s been a situation in the throne room.”

Thorin’s brow furrowed.

“What kind of situation?”

“It’s best if you see for yourself.”

Thorin sighed, but nodded. He looked at Oreliell.

“We will deal with this, then I will help you find Vedis,” he said.

Oreliell smiled.

The two followed Ori out and to the throne room, where several guards stood. Typically, only two guards stood outside the throne room at a time. The guards bowed their heads to Thorin and let them inside. The throne room was empty, minus the small gathering of dwarves by the throne. Oreliell realized that they were all members of the company, plus Dís. They were mumbling quietly to themselves, making it slightly challenging for Oreliell to determine what was being discussed.

“Thorin,” Dwalin said, dragging everyone’s attention to them.

Thorin greeted them.

“What has happened?” he asked. “Ori said there was a situation.”

Dwalin nodded.

“It’s the Arkenstone.”

“What about it?”

“Thorin,” Dís said, stepping forward. “It’s missing.”

Oreliell’s eyes went wide and shot up to the throne. Sure enough, the Arkenstone was vacant from its place.

Oreliell felt someone grab her hand. Her gaze was drawn away and down to Thorin. He had her hand in a tight grip.

“How?” Thorin said.

“It was Bifur that discovered it,” Bofur offered. “Go on, brother.”

Bifur stepped forward. He had somehow lost the ax that had been lodged in his head during the battle, miraculously giving him the ability to speak in common tongue again.

“I was making my normal rounds this morning when I discovered it,” he said. “I came into the throne room and saw that the stone was missing. I called for Dwalin and made sure no one came in.”

“When I got here, I instructed several guards to remain outside,” Dwalin said, continuing with the report. “No one on rounds saw anyone go in or out of the hall.”

“The stone couldn’t have just disappeared,” Kili said.

“And we are sure it is nowhere in the hall?” Thorin said. “And that none of the guards have seen it?”

Dwalin shook his head.

“I questioned them all myself. None reported noticing anything, and they’ve all been sworn to secrecy until we figure out what has happened.”

Thorin nodded. 

“Very good. Let’s initiate a search, but it must be kept quiet. No one must know. We do not want to create an uproar.”

Dwalin turned to the company and began passing out roles. Gloin was assigned to gather men, and several others would head different groups. The rest of the company would work to make sure word did not get out.

Oreliell looked down at Thorin. She squeezed his hand slightly to gain his attention.

“{Are you all right?}” she asked in elvish.

Thorin took a minute to respond, but ultimately shook his head.

“{The last time the Arkenstone was missing, I nearly lost my mind to the dragon sickness. It is the king’s jewel. To know it is missing once again… is difficult to come to terms with.}” He squeezed her hand. “{But I will get through this. It was the thought of you that pulled me through the darkness last time. With you now physically by my side, I believe I am less likely to stumble.}”

“{Even if you did, I would be there to catch you, my love. You need not stand alone ever again,}” she told him.

Thorin smiled up at her and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Thank you,” he whispered, making Oreliell smile. He looked away, going to say something when he noticed Dís and Dwalin looking at them. He eyes them suspiciously as Dís whispered to Dwalin, staring at her brother in surprise. Thorin sighed. “Now what are they up to?” he muttered.

Oreliell chuckled in amusement.

“Dís is merely commenting on the fact that you speak my native tongue,” she said. “The thought that you took the time to learn elvish never crossed her mind apparently.”

“Only enough for insults, once upon a time.”

“Like what you said back in Mirkwood?”

Thorin rolled his eyes at her teasing tone.

“We were being falsely imprisoned,” he grumbled. “Thranduil had no reason to detain us, that stuck up stick pixie.”

Oreliell laughed.

Dwalin, Balin, and Dís approached the two. Dís looked between them, obviously amused by what she had witnessed. But her expression became serious when Balin began speaking.

“This is most troubling,” he said. “We won’t be able to hold off the people forever. What will we tell them?”

“And what about the council?” Dís asked. “They are going to be anxious and curious about all the secrecy.” 

Thorin sighed and ran his free hand over his face.

“We wait. Searching for the Arkenstone will be our primary focus. However, should we not find it, we will call a council meeting in the morning.”

Dwalin put his hand on Thorin’s shoulder.

“Will you be all right?”

“Yes,” Thorin said. “It is in the best interest of Erebor that we remain calm. We do not need to incite concern. But Dwalin, I want an increased guard around the mountain. Make it subtle if you can. If the stone, thief, or a clue is found, I want to know about it.”

“Of course.”

“We will find it, brother,” Dís said. “Do not worry.”

Despite the efforts of the search parties and increased guard, nothing turned up that day. Oreliell could tell that Thorin was becoming anxious. He tried to keep himself occupied with other things, but she knew the disappearance of the Arkenstone was weighing on his mind. Thankfully, not as heavy as it had before the battle. Thorin tried to keep Oreliell as close as possible, and was almost constantly holding her hand, as if it were to ground himself.

The next morning, Thorin summoned the council. Oreliell could hear them gathering behind the large wood doors, talking amongst themselves. She glanced at Thorin who straightened his coat. She offered her hand to him, smiling when he took and squeezed it.

“It’s going to be all right, Thorin,” she said. “We are here for you.”

“I know. And I will be forever grateful for your support. I just worry what will happen should this get out. What if my rule is questioned? I have lost the symbol of the king, and nearly lost the mountain. What if I am unfit to be in this role?”

“Enough of that.” She brushed some hair away from his face and ran her fingers through his hair. “You have done so much for Erebor and its people. You won back your home, you are restoring it to its glory, and you have brought your people back. No one else was able to or tried to do such a thing. It was you.”

Oreliell could tell that his smile was slightly forced, but his eyes told her that he was grateful for her words.

Thorin rolled his shoulders and pushed open the door to the council hall. The dwarves nodded in greeting to the two of them as they made their way to the table. Oreliell looked around at them. Those that had been part of the company looked tense, the knowledge of the missing Arkenstone weighing them with worry. The others were quiet but appeared confused as to why they had been summoned. And as always, Lord Korvon looked at her with disapproval in his eyes. He did little to hide his displeasure, but she was not going to try to force him to accept her. 

Oreliell took her seat beside Thorin, who remained standing at the head of the table.

“Thank you for coming on short notice,” he said. “I would not have called you here if it were not dire.”

“Dire?” Lord Malark said. “What do you mean? Has something happened?”

Thorin glanced at Oreliell. She gave him a small smile and a nod. He turned his eyes back to the council.

“Yesterday, we discovered that Arkenstone had disappeared.”

Several of them gasped in shock and questions were fired in quick succession.

“How could this have happened?”

“Where were the guards?”

“Are there any leads?”

“Who could have dared to do such a thing?”

“Let the king speak,” Dain said over them.

“We do not know much, other than it was stolen during the night,” Thorin said after nodding at his cousin. “We have had additional guards posted outside the throne room, and patrols around the mountain have been increased. We are on the lookout for the thief, but so far we do not have much. Our goal is to keep the mountain from going into a panic if this were to get out.”

“I agree with this decision, your majesty,” Lord Trinan said. “We have had too much uncertainty regarding our home. Adding another reason would not be wise.”

“What else can we do to help?” Dain asked.

They dove into plans about how else they were going to search for the Arkenstone. They organized further search parties and guard rotations. They even created plans for if the people came to learn about the missing stone.

Oreliell saw Thorin become more and more relaxed as the council talked. Having plans in place was easing his nerves. Knowing that he had their support even though the Arkenstone was missing was a weight off his mind.

The lords pitched in their suggestions for the plans, debating what would be the most efficient way to assist in the search. However, one lord was rather quiet, simply observing the talks rather than putting forth his thoughts.

Apparently, she was not the only one to notice.

“Lord Korvon,” Dís said. “You have been rather quiet today, which is quite unlike you. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, your highness,” he said. “It’s just… I couldn’t help but notice something peculiar.”

“And what is that?”

“Lady Oreliell.”

Oreliell was slightly caught off guard. He had never once addressed her so formally, and his tone was… somewhere between mocking and curious.

“Yes?”

“May I ask where your sister is? I can’t help but notice that she is absent today.”

“I’m not sure, Lord Korvon.”

“Not sure? Surely you have some idea.”

“Unfortunately not.”

“But you two are practically joined at the hip.”

“Believe it or not, I am not my sister’s keeper. She may come and go as she pleases.”

“When did you last see her?”

“The other night when she left Thorin and I to spar at the training grounds.”

“Curious.”

“Why does all that matter, Lord Korvon?” Kili asked. “Vedis is allowed to miss a council meeting if she is occupied.”

Korvon shrugged, feigning innocence.

“It’s a simple observation, my prince. Or rather, it seems like a coincidence.”

Oreliell tensed, sensing where he was going with his line of thought.

“Speak plainly, boy,” Lord Rusnig said. “What are you getting at?”

Korvon huffed.

“Does no one else find it odd that the elf should go missing the same night that the Arkenstone does?”

The room fell silent. Oreliell stared at Korvon in shock.

“Lord Korvon, you can’t possibly be suggesting that Vedis is the one who has stolen the Arkenstone,” Balin said.

“Why is that so unbelievable?”

“What is the basis of your accusation? What proof do you have?”

“The night the stone went missing, so did she. Oreliell herself said she hasn’t seen her sister since then. And when I was taking a walk that night, I saw her headed toward the throne room.”

“Vedis patrols the mountain at night,” Dwalin said lowly, arms crossed over his chest. “That is hardly proof.”

“She kept looking around like she was making sure she wasn’t being followed! She was paranoid!”

“Perhaps it is because of dwarves like you that hold ill intent toward them,” Dain replied.

“Have I a reason not to? Elves betrayed us in our time of need. When Smaug first attacked the mountain, the elves of the Greenwood watched as our people died before turning their backs on us. When we sought shelter in the aftermath, they shut us out! And before that, elves have tried to stake a claim on treasure that is rightfully ours!”

“All of those instances were with the Woodland Realm and King Thranduil, and those conflicts have begun to be resolved,” Balin told him. “Oreliell and Vedis have only ever helped us.”

“Are you sure? Who’s to say that they haven’t been deceiving you all this time? They could have planned all this from the beginning, planned to seduce and trick our king by feigning helping him search for Prince Thrain and later reclaiming the mountain. All this was a ruse to aid the elves of Mirkwood get into the mountain and steal from us!”

“That is enough!” Thorin said. He was on his feet once again and glaring at the dwarf lord. “I suggest you hold your tongue if you wish to keep it, Lord Korvon. I will not have you slandering my One, your soon-to-be queen, or her sister. To suggest that they could be behind the Arkenstone’s disappearance or that they would create such an elaborate ruse with a kingdom they hold no allegiance to is disgraceful. I will hear no more of it.”

Korvon narrowed his eyes before shoving his seat back and storming out of the room. Many angry eyes followed him out. Thorin looked at the other dwarf lords, who all appeared to be shocked by their fellow dwarf’s outburst.

“If there is nothing else to discuss concerning this matter, you are dismissed,” he said behind gritted teeth.

“The nerve that man has,” Dís grumbled once the lords had left the room.

The others voiced their frustrations. Oreliell, however, stayed silent, still in shock. Lord Korvon’s words echoed in her mind. She felt hands on her shoulders, only slightly pulling her out of her thoughts. She placed her hand over one of Thorin’s, squeezing it.

“I cannot believe he would accuse Vedis of such a horrible thing,” Kili said. “She would never steal the Arkenstone!”

“But he’s right.”

Once again, the room went quiet. The dwarves looked to Oreliell, stunned that she would agree with Lord Korvon.

“Oreliell,” Thorin said. “Lord Korvon is simply looking to place blame.”

She shook her head.

“I’m not saying he’s right about Vedis stealing the Arkenstone. She practically hates the thing. I’m saying that the timing of it all is suspicious.”

Dain leaned forward, resting his arms on the table.

“How so?” he asked.

“Even if Vedis wanted to steal the stone, she would not have done so so obviously. She’s incredibly smart. She would have stolen the stone, stored it somewhere she deemed safe, then stayed present to feign assistance in searching and lead it away from her. Her absence raises suspicion of her being the thief and makes her more likely to be caught.”

The others thought on this in silence for a moment, slowly nodding.

“You’re right,” Dwalin said. “It’s too convenient, too easy to place blame.”

“But even so, we still do not know who has taken the Arkenstone,” Kili said.

“Then we must focus on one thing at a time,” Thorin replied. “While finding the Arkenstone is of great importance to the throne, our first course of action should be finding Vedis.”

“What about the lords?” Oreliell asked. “They will disagree with such a decision.”

“Their opinions do not matter when it comes to family and kin.” She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “Dwalin, please gather some of your best men to begin the search. The search for the Arkenstone will continue, but I want Vedis found.”

The group nodded in agreement. As they began to slowly filter out of the room, Oreliell turned to look at Thorin.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked quietly.

“She is your sister,” he said to her, “and she is my friend. I want her found as much as you. And we will find her.” He kissed her forehead. “I promise.”