#answered by bofur | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rivendell-poet · 5 months ago

Note

Quick ask

Do you think you could do a hobbit boys (Thorin, dawalin, and Fili mainly) with a short 4’8 human female reader who is often mistaken as a dwarf and they only realize when she can’t under stand the pet names or courting thing the boys do

Not so quick answer, I'm afraid. But of course! I've ended up not mentioning reader's height or gender in this I'm afraid, but height does end up being implied. Thanks so much for requesting anon - and I hope you enjoy it!

*･༓˚✧❝𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « headcanons »

○ Thorin ○ Fíli ○ Kíli ○ Dwalin ○ Bofur ○

GN!Reader | No TWs | Wordcount : 1.2k

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧

✧ Thorin is a big believer in the old, traditional dwarven way of courting.

✧ (Not just because he’s too scared he doesn’t have the words to properly confess to you, and that he wouldn’t be able to take a rejection that way.)

✧ It starts very small, such a tentative gesture that - if it wasn’t Thorin - even the other dwarves might not realise it’s courting.

✧ You certainly don’t, as you smile up at him before thanking him. Wondering why he’s ducked away so quickly afterwards.

✧ (It’s to hide how red his face is becoming.)

✧ Then you don’t reciprocate, at all. But Thorin just thinks he wasn’t quite obvious enough.

✧ His next gesture is grander, although he presents it slightly more gruffly. Again you can see the care and love that’s gone into it, but you don’t just want to assume it’s romantic.

✧ Everything’s accepted. And then nothing happens. And still nothing happens.

✧ You notice Thorin becoming slightly more withdrawn and decide to complain to Bilbo, muttering about how confusion these dwarves can sometimes be.

✧ ‘These dwarves?’

✧ It’s then Thorin realises that, perhaps, you aren’t a dwarf at all.

✧ Finally, he decides to use his words. Coming up to you, and asking if you’d realise what he was doing.

✧ Both of your cheeks are hot as he explains his intentions to you, and you realise all the things you’ve missed.

✧ As his explanation comes to an end, and you explain you’d truly like to court him - he steps slightly closer.

✧ “I know that all people kiss.”

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ He never thought he’d be one for traditional romance, the pain-staking time courting takes. To get all the details just perfect for the beloved he’d end up falling for.

✧ Fíli had always assumed he’d have a whirlwind romance, and the details wouldn’t matter.

✧ It was true, in a way; you could have done anything for him and he’d beam and blush as if you’d hung the stars for him.

✧ But Fíli is determined to make it perfect for you. Because you deserve nothing less.

✧ So he begins to ask some of the older dwarves on what to do, how to make sure it all goes well.

✧ Fíli‘s getting quite far along, gift almost made for you, when he decides maybe he should ask the hobbit as well.

✧ “You- you thought they were a dwarf?” The incredulous tone of Bilbo makes poor Fíli rethink quite a lot of choices. If he didn’t notice that is he good enough to love you?

✧ Taking pity on the lad, Bilbo offers him a smile. “But anyone, dwarf or not, can see the love you have for them. Do it anyway, you just- might have to explain some of the finer details.”

✧ It’s that advice Fíli ends up taking, asking if he can speak to you in private.

✧ He still does things the dwarven way, at the very start. Waiting until he’s finished - and you’re looking at him with a mixture of hope and confusion.

✧ Then he explains things the best he can, what each gestures means, why he chose each gesture. How specifically he’s decided to show his love for you.

✧ Because you’re absolutely worthy of confession twice.

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ The first to start showing his affections, of course. And he decides the best way to do it is semi-casually.

✧ After all, he can always say he was joking if you don’t reciprocate the feelings. Hope you didn’t notice how pink his cheeks were, along with his smile and the shine in his eyes when he looked at you.

✧ “How are you, amrâl?”

✧ Does it get him some stares from the other dwarves? Yes. Is it worth it when you look at him and then quietly respond? He’s certain it is.

✧ Slowly he gets bolder. Jokingly calling you his betrothed, his star, his sun and moon. Each time you seem slightly less surprised, and slightly more comfortable.

✧ Eventually, he decides that he doesn’t just want to joke around. He wants to properly ask you, to be able to properly court you.

✧ “Amrâl astî.”

�� There’s a moment where he looks in your face for recognition, and then sees blankness.

✧ Something must be obvious in his expression, because you suddenly seems to understand. And then, almost shyly, ask if he’s just confessed.

✧ It’s then that Kíli suddenly realises you’ve never talked back to him in Khuzdul. That, in some respects, you never quite seemed dwarven.

✧ With you still looking at him, he tries again. The confession is longer this time, if slightly quieter - with a few times he’s not as confident - but there’s still just as much love in it.

✧ Once Kíli finally begins to court you, he also begins to teach you what all his nicknames mean.

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧

✧ Like Thorin, he’s much more comfortable in sticking with the dwarven traditions as well.

✧ To be able to confess how much you mean to him without having to put it truly into words. To share something intimate, instead of court with a grand, romantic gesture.

✧ Still, Dwalin spends a lot of time perfecting everything. Making sure that this confession will be right for you, right for him. Right for (what he hopes) can become the two of you, together.

✧ Dwalin doesn’t have a lot of small gestures, but rather one bigger one.

✧ One where - even though you’re not a dwarf - you can so easily feel the love through. His devotion is evident in every part, the love he has for you obvious.

✧ You’re silent until he finishes, and then you ask, “This is the confession I’d been hoping for, right?”

✧ There’s some confusion but he confirms it is instantly. And you meet him in an embrace, a gentle kiss.

✧ He’s incredibly soft with you - but there’s still hints of Dwalin as your lips connect. As he smiles when the two of you pull away.

𝐁𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐫

✧ When he first gives you a carving, he doesn’t expect you to see a grand romantic gesture in it - because it isn’t to him, but more of a subtle way. The polite way of informing you ‘my heart might be beating for you, I hope you don’t mind’

✧ Yet it isn’t as grandiose as so many stories he’s heard. And it isn’t a proper courtship gesture. So he doesn’t expect too much.

✧ But, when he places the carving in your hands, you’re in awe. So thankful. So enamoured by the object he’s left a blushing mess.

✧ As you give him a hug he wonders how you can’t feel his heart, hammering away.

✧ Emboldened by this he tries again, putting more effort in this time. And again you seem to appreciate it like no-one has before.

✧ But you still don’t initiate anything romantic.

✧ Perhaps you want to take it slow? So Bofur waits two, three more carvings before deciding to talk to you.

✧ “I… know you haven’t seen my courting gifts as exactly what you wanted. How- how do you want me to say I love you?”

✧ The way your eyes go wide clue him into the fact, perhaps, you didn’t know originally.

✧ Repeating his words back to him, you can feel your mortification as you explain you didn’t know they were courting gifts. How you’d gladly accept them.

✧ That you’d be honoured to court him.

A/N : As you can see by the vagueness, I definitely have a great grasp on dwarven courting techniques. (and would welcome anyone who'd be willing to explain them to me <3)

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @wordbunch ✧ wish to be tagged?

✧ @killermarionette / @bespectacledhuman / @howling-medic / @deannie13 / @paigemackenzie0206

✧ @recordofragnarokfan2 / @themuseinthewoods / @satans-bitch / @ferns-fics / @northernwing

#the hobbit x reader #the hobbit x you #thorin's company x reader #thorin's company x you #thorin x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #dwalin x reader #bofur x reader

382 notes · View notes

celeste-clearwater-06 · 1 year ago

Text

heartbeat (thorin oakenshield x female!modern! reader)

gif by me!!

desc. - reader puts her CPR lessons to good use when thorin's on the brink of death. (inspired by an imagine by @imaginexhobbit but make it sad🫶 also i listened to "farewell to dobby" while reading this, it adds so muchhh)

warnings - angst 💔

word count - 2.7k

For most of the time you’d been traveling with Thorin and his merry band of warriors, you could only account a few times you provided yourself useful to the group. Bofur was a whittler and toy maker, Oin a healer, Ori a scribe. Thorin and his sister-sons, the rightful heir to a kingdom. Even Bilbo had squeezed his way into a position of burglary, though he was hardly fit, and was still fighting to prove himself.

You?

A few stories around the campfire. Some questions answered about where you’d appeared from out of nowhere in particular. Mouth watering modern food recipes you babbled on about, over rabbit stew Bombur happily served on the cold nights on the road. And sure, you were getting good with a sword, but not nearly as skillful as the fearless fighter Dwalin.

You could see the malevolence and distaste in Thorin’s eyes when Gandalf decided for himself that you would make a fine addition to the group. After all, some otherworldly stranger happening upon them just as their fateful quest began was no coincidence. To him it meant something. But to the leader of the group? Danger? Deadweight? You couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it settled behind his cold, steel-blue eyes and swelled whenever he watched you fail miserably at every task given.

You simply weren’t built for a world like this.

Thorin didn’t hate you. He wasn’t necessarily fond of you either. And how you longed to fit in, impress him maybe. Break past whatever tough exterior that he used to keep a distance between the two of you. Pushing too much would surely annoy him, so you opted to keep to yourself, sitting back and placing yourself near Gandalf and the witty Bilbo Baggins, who seemed to have walked a few miles in your own shoes. If he could wear them, that is. Hoping maybe one day the King under the mountain would come around. Maybe.

But now, soaring over the horizon of a morning sun and above the towering mountains, on the feathered back of a massive bird, Bilbo had proven himself in his bravery, and you were alone and useless in your skills.

You were seated atop the same eagle as the halfling, right behind another that carried Thorin’s limp body in its talons, wind and the worried cries of his nephews rushing through your hair and past your ears. Azog’s fight was not an easy one. Not that you could do much anyways, dangling uselessly from a blazing pine tree and fingers slipping from its scorching branches. But Thorin, ever the brave, was taken down quickly.

Thank the lord for Gandalf’s endless alliances.

Now, the eagles circled a plateau, oddly sticking out from above high treetops like a sore thumb, and began to descend to its slanted surface where each member of the company jumped off. Some destination this was, hundreds of feet off the ground. You’d think they might find a safer spot to land this band of underground dwelling travelers but beggars can’t be choosers. At least you were out of harm's way for the time being. The eagle you and Bilbo rode flew low enough for you to hop off and land safely on the cliff’s surface, then turn and see Thorin, unconscious and unmoving, set down gently in front of the rest of the group.

They all crowded around him, shouting and shaking his body vigorously, but to no avail. Your stomach dropped when you heard one of them mutter a word that sounded like “dead”.

You rushed over, just getting a few glimpses of his face from behind the heads of thick hair and heavy fur coats circling him like vultures, Bilbo at your heels and following in curiosity.

“He’s not breathing!”

“Thorin! Thorin, wake up!” A hand tapped on the side of his face.

You immediately began shouting to clear some room. The sea of worried dwarves parted for you, just enough room to sling your haversack off your shoulders and lean down on your knees, bringing an ear to his mouth. They were right. Not a breath to be heard. Nor a pulse, you discovered, after placing your fingers to the side of his cold neck.

“No…no no, no.”

The company shared confused mutters and looks, worry lines still etched like canyons in their faces as they watched you clamor to unclasp his thick cloak and pull away as much clothing as you could from his chest.

Now, you were no doctor. Not even a medical student for that matter. Just barely scraping by with an art degree and two, low paying part-time jobs back home. Wherever that was. But, thankfully, those required CPR lessons back in junior high suddenly came rushing back to you, and you were gonna put to the best use you could.

You locked your elbows, flattened your palms, and then hastily pressed against the brute of his firm chest. Mahal, it was stubborn, and the armored shirt between your hands and his heart was no help, but acting quickly spared no time for shedding any more of his clothes. Again and again you pressed, one, two, just how the instructor taught you with her quick tongue and loud voice.

“An even pace! You’re going to lose him!”

The recall made your head spin, especially considering it might have been a bit comedic at the time, trying to revive an armless mannequin on the tile floor of your classroom. But under the steady pressure of your palms was a real person, teetering on the edge of life and death.

Gandalf landed somewhere behind you, being the last to touch ground, but he was forgotten in the sea of deep voices asking what you could possibly be doing.

By the 16th compression, you were beginning to break a sweat. Twenty, twenty one…

“Lass… what are ya’ doing?” Bofur's voice, usually friendly and jovial, was a low and cowering one. His question left the rest of the group quiet. You heard, but you didn’t answer. That would be for later when this was over. Preferably with a happy ending.

Thirty.

You moved to pinch Thorin's nose shut, tilting his head just slightly off the ground with the other hand tangled in his hair and breathed into his open mouth.

Any and all bewildered muttering was lost on the focus you had, to watch for any movement in his relaxed face.

You breathed again, and then bent over to listen. Nothing.

Now things began to get more grave than you’d taken them before.

You moved back to begin compressions again, this time pressing harder and deeper against his heart. You lifted a forearm to wipe the sweat gathering on your brow.

In your class, you were supposed to take turns, and rotate when one got tired so they could properly compress. But this wasn’t class.

Thorin was beneath the weight of your hands and his face was losing color.

“Come on… come on Thorin.”

You lost count after the 19th shove downwards, adrenaline kicking in and tears blurring the corners of your eyes as Thorin convulsed.

A warm hand settled on your shoulder above.

“Lass… he-” you smacked it away, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach like fire that you spat out.

“No! No he’s not, n-not yet.”

Again, you breathed into his airway, heavy and even, like you were supposed to. You were doing everything right. So why wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t he breathing?

This was the quietest you had ever heard the company. Only birds and the sound of your exhausted, heaving breaths and choking sobs floating in the cool morning air.

You moved back to compressions, starting again, one, two, three. You were begging him, hysterically pleading his unresponsive body to kick start back up.

“Please Thorin. Come on.”

Now tears rolled down the apple of your cheeks, warm and bothersome and blinding, falling over your hands and his clothes. Your arms ached at the now desperate shoving against his heart. You looked pathetic, like a widow begging for scraps of Thorin’s lifeline, something to get him through. The ground dug harshly into your knees, bruising and irritating them through the pants as they dully scraped with each movement.

Twenty two.

You were slowing down, growing weary and tired from the work. But it wasn’t good enough. At this point, with the silent stares, you knew that even the ever stubborn dwarves had lost hope for their leader some time ago. And you had too, but now you were already getting past the twenty-fifth press down. Curse the lot of them, just staring down at you with pity as you sniffed and wiped the snot and tears from your face. And curse the beauty of the morning sun peaking over the mountains, so regal and beautiful, and staring down at the morose show of a sad little human weeping to herself.

“Please… please, God you idiot. Running down there like that.”

A cry frogged its way out of the back of your throat, raspy and gurgling. You lift his head for the third time, sniffed in and then pushed your shaking breath as hard as you could manage, pulled away, then back down to press your quivering lips upon his cold ones and-

A breath. Soft and faint, just barely there, and it slightly cooled the tears on your face.

You froze, staring down at Thorin to see his eyes twitch just slightly underneath their lids. Another exhale fled him, his time much more apparent, and his brows furrowed as he stirred awake. The gasps and shouts from the company, scrambling over and circling him like they did before to help him up as he came to.

“He’s alive!”

“A miracle! Bless the Valor!”

You lifted yourself from the ground, onto your feet, but the shock of your attempts actually working, and exhaustion, just left you to stumble backwards onto your butt, crying harder than before, in relief and joy, nonetheless sobbing like your life depended on it. You gave into the fatigue of your muscles, the tiredness from the adrenaline, and exhaustion from your sobs, and fell onto your back, covering your eyes with a forearm with the other limply laying on the ground next to you. Bilbo kneeled next to you and laid his small hand over yours, watching as the king was pulled to his feet and grimacing at the noises of his jovial party celebrating with shouting and laughing.

“You did it,” The burglar said quietly, just enough for you to hear. It wasn’t just amazement in his voice, but reassurance. Something to ground you, like the warm squeeze of his hand.

You trembled, breaths coming in and out with a shiver.

Thorin’s dazed when you slowly sit up off the ground to look at him, swaying about and being jostled as each excited dwarf embraced and jumped around him, and an arm shouldered over Kìli’s to keep his balance.

“You were dead.” Dwalin’s normally stony, hard-set face, was graced with the most horrified look you’d ever seen in your life, eyes widened and brows twisted upwards in awe. That seemed to settle everyone down enough, and shake Thorin from the rest of his stupor. Once again, the world around you was blessed with silence that you hadn’t gotten a taste of since you arrived. It was short lived.

“Dead?” Thorin asked, incredulous and confused.

“Ye’ weren’t breathing lad!” Gloin chimed in, “we thought you were gone!”

The king’s eyes narrow, and shift between the members of his party, blinking away a head rush.

“How is that possible?” The second set of words he’d spoken since he screamed Azog’s name. Thorin’s voice was low and rasping. He slowly turned, following the astounded, wide-eyed stares from the surrounding dwarves, boring into you like you were some God.

You sniffled, wiping at your reddened, runny nose with the sleeve of your shirt.

He lifted a jeweled hand to graze over his heart, where you were reviving him, just staring at the sad sight of your tearful eyes.

“She saved ya’, Thorin,” Balin’s voice is serious and somber, breaking the silence, “Brough’ ya’ back from near death. Mahal knows how.”

Thorin’s eyes grew sharp, brows furrowing and piercing into you, where you pulled yourself to sit on your knees. His fingers tightened around the cloth where his hand laid, clutching at his chest.

“You,” he gruffed, “You did this?”

“I-I… I didn’t know if it was gonna work.” Your throat tightened and squeezed. Great, even more tears flowed down your face. Thorin’s eyes held the same glint that made your stomach twist with embarrassment and shame. The least he could do is offer a nod of gratitude towards you. Instead, he tore free from the group, ripping his arm away off his nephew’s shoulder and stumbling towards you like a drunken fool, with thudding footsteps.

Dwalin calls after him uselessly, just hanging back and letting the scene play out.

When he stops in front of you, eyes firey and broad chest heaving breaths in and out, standing a few inches over where you’re knelt, all you can do is try not to look away. You’re glad you hadn’t.

A boa-tight grip took hold of your heart and tightened when you saw his features soften, worry lines and crow's feet disappearing in the appearance of a small, incredulous smile. His softened eyes lined themselves with the hint of tears catching like jewels in the morning sun. Thorin dropped down to his knees to meet your height in a hug that you could never have prepared yourself for. You freeze for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Thorin, fearless, merciless, King Under the Mountain was hugging, no, embracing you, with the force of a thousand winds and strength of ten thousand men, because he was alive, thanks to you. And you hugged him back, pulling closer than you already were, and grasping at the back of his shirt and cried into his shoulder. The dwarves cheered in excitement behind Thorin. Through the yelling and praise, you can hear Thorin’s low voice next to your ear.

“I cannot repay this deed. Thank you.”

You pull away to see the kindest, warmest smile your eyes had ever been blessed to lay upon. It knocked the breath from your lungs. The corners of his eyes and the arch of his nose wrinkled upwards. It suited his face much more than the cold and stoic stares he was prone to.

“I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.” Was all you could huff out.

“Yet I did. I misunderstood you greatly.” Thorin wiped a tear from the side of your face, “You make a member of this group. My life is indebted to you. And you,”

He peered over your shoulder at a wide-eyed Bilbo Baggins, standing just past your shoulder. You helped him stand from the ground, arm linked in his to meet the hobbit.

“You nearly got yourself killed,” he slipped free from your arm, and started toward Bilbo, just as he did you. “Did I not say you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild?”

Your face fell, akin to Bilbo’s solemn look. He stood there, taking the string of insults like a punching bag.

“That you had no place amongst us?”

And then he pulled the hobbit in just as he did you.

“I have never been so wrong, in all my life.”

Your heart reeled, and this time you smiled along with the rest of the company’s rejoices, watching the surprised grin spread across Bilbo’s face. Thorin pulled away.

“I am sorry I doubted you.”

“No, no. I would have doubted me, too.”

A hand planted itself on your shoulder, and you turned to look at Gandalf and his sagely smile.

“You’ve made yourself quite the home in these dwarves' hearts, young lady,” he said. It was comedic, the way his silvery hair and beard dramatically blew in the wind, “Perhaps once this has settled, you stay with them. I think you’d find yourself more than welcome in Erebor’s Halls.”

You hummed in thought. The band of travelers were gathered on the edge of the plateau, looking out in the distance towards the peak of the Lonely Mountain, calling their name through the mist.

Thorin turned back to look at you over his shoulder with a gentle smile, and nodded his head to you in a silent thanks. The ghost of a blush spread across his face.

“I just might.”

(aaaaaah! what did you guys think??? :3 it feels wonderful to get a full fic out after so long, ive had this idea in my head for dayyys ugh 💔 please send me some requests loves, i'm in desperate need of some comfort fics! don't forget to reblog and like!! love yas! 🩷🌺🌸🌷💝💞)

tag list : @kumqu4t @tolkien-fantasy @blueberryrock @to-be-frank-i-dont-care @luna-xial @legolaslovely @fizzyxcustard @pistachiozombie @imaginexhobbit @beenovel

#thorin oakenshield #xreader #thorin oakenshield x reader #peter jackson #thorins company #the hobbit #thorin x reader #the hobbit x reader #angst #happy ending #yayyy #i need thorin #tolkien #modern! reader

882 notes · View notes

shirefantasies · 8 months ago

Note

Hii, I absolutely love your work!! 💗 Could I please request headcannons about the characters from The Hobbit and sleeping positions or something about how they like to relax? <3

Uhhhh hell yeah this is so cute 🥺🖤

The Hobbit Characters' Favorite Sleeping Position

Balin

He likes to lay by your side, either facing each other or otherwise right up against you, your back to him as he draws circles with his hand upon your back or arm. Encouraging and relaxing you as you speak, whether it be opening up about your day or sharing some deep thought. As you drift off, Balin maintains a loose hold, knowing you are safe together.

Dwalin

Keeps to his side…at least at first. The moment you pout or reach to him he acquiesces. Acting like he is accepting for your benefit only to wrap his arms around you and clutch you to his chest like he’ll die before he loses you. Tends to fall asleep with his head lolling onto your shoulder due to this position, his legs sprawled out wherever they land, sometimes with one thrown over your sleeping form. Sometimes you will even awaken with his nose nuzzled into your neck and bear tickling any exposed skin.

Thorin

I have two words for you: big spoon. Specifically Thorin will be such. He wants nothing more than to grant you a feeling of care, of presiding over you in a loving way rather than his domineering presence can imply. In truth, being your comfort is everything, and of course he wants to feel you there, to be able to open his eyes and receive an immediate answer why if he is to sense you slipping away.

Oin

In terms of how he cuddles with you, it will be on the loose side, your arms draped over his side as you rest rather than tightly clinging or, in Oin’s words, “crushing the life out o’ me”. The habit you will come to discover, however? Oin very much likes being your little spoon. As much time as he spends caring for others, there is a part of him that wants to be cared for and held but feels too ashamed to ask about, at least at first. Please help him feel cared for!

Gloin

Rarely goes to sleep lightly, be it following a bit of hanky-panky or simply the bit of playful wrestling that ensues if you try to adopt the position of big spoon. Unless of course Gloin is quite tired, in which case you may find him just flopping right over on his back, half atop you but fully vulnerable to your hold!

Bifur

Cuddling too close can feel suffocating to him, especially after all he has been through and the nightmares he sometimes has. However, just because he does not want to entrap you does not mean that Bifur refuses your touch. He finds great comfort in holding your hand as he drifts off, squeezing it if he wakes up in the night. The feeling of your head upon his shoulder or leaned against his is absolute heaven to Bifur.

Bofur

Arms snaking about your waist, Bofur pulls you into his lap before tumbling your joined bodies onto the bed, eventually rotating to face you. His legs weave with your own into the most wonderful mess, radiating with the warmth of your love and every good night kiss. Hooks you in with that leg-lock to pull you even closer against his chest.

Bombur

Cuddling is his favorite thing in the world! Bombur is an expert at it, whether it is being your living blanket or sharing your space in his favorite way, facing you. Nuzzling his nose against yours and peering into your eyes to watch them close and open in fading wake. Sandwiches one of your legs in his, an accidental trap of love, but he just loves to hold you close!

Dori

Lays right by your side, your heads brushing together so he can rub his cheek against yours and talk and listen until you both fall asleep. Sometimes holding hands, others simply loosely draped, limbs thrown wherever they please. You usually end up falling asleep half on top of Dori, head lolling onto his shoulder or chest. He usually wakes up first and subsequently wakes you up with a kiss to the top of your head.

Nori

If you ask Nori, the best way to cuddle is the best way to do anything: with him on top of you! What better than to be able to look down upon you, to kiss you and straddle you on your way off to dreamland? To see directly the effects of any attempts at flustering you staring him in the face quite literally. One hand of his might snake about your waist and give your hip an affectionate squeeze as he nuzzles down into you, whispering you sweet nothings into sleep.

Ori

He absolutely adores cuddling and falling asleep facing each other, his arms gently thrown around you. Rubs his nose against yours as you both drift off, claiming one last sleepy kiss. If you tumble off into dreams first Ori will watch you with a smile, wishing for his last sight of the day to always be of your peaceful expression.

Fili

Caring, giving, protecting Fili wants to hold you. His natural position when he lays by your side is to be your big spoon, holding you flush against him. To have you in his arms is the greatest gift Fili could ask for, security in the highest capacity when he knows you are close to him, close enough to feel his heartbeat and the fanning of his breath upon you and the kisses he places upon your head, neck, shoulders as your eyes flutter shut.

Kili

Mischievously tugs you into bed, pulling you into his favorite position so you are draped atop his chest. With you there, Kili melts at the sight of your head lain over his heart, soothed by its beat. He presses kisses to the crown of it during pre-sleep cuddles, one hand rubbing your back. Up and down the warm softness slides as dreams begin to take you both, the rhythm of synchronizing heartbeats carrying you off.

Bilbo

Bilbo's favorite way to cuddle or go to sleep with you is absolutely as your little spoon! The feeling of snuggling up in your arms is utter bliss, his body melting like butter as he relaxes against you. If you throw a leg over him, you can feel him stiffen in surprise before relaxing once more and turning his head to give you a shy but wide smile. Before sleep takes him, he loves to reach up and hold the hands you've wrapped around him, affectionately running them along yours.

Thranduil

Warning: a bit of a bed hog. At least in the sense that his limbs sprawl out where they please, draping themselves wherever is most comfortable. Which more often than not will involve some part of your body. Thranduil's reaching arms tend to find purchase, for example, when his hand finds your hair to stroke or tangle his fingers in. One of his legs as they stretch and lounge will likely end up beneath yours.

Feren

Adores lying side by side, some space for each of your bodies, but with your hands joined between them. Fingers intertwined like an anchor, a way to show your love even as you fade away into the night. Feren also feels his heartbeat speed when you tuck your head into the crook of his neck, reaching up to stroke your hair before sleep overtakes him.

Bard

Tends to face the opposite direction as you, laying upon his side. However, peek at him when you butt against him, when you wrap an arm over him and feel his hand grip yours and you will see the smile spreading across Bard's face. A sight sure to speed the rhythm of the heartbeat he loves to feel pressed against him.

Beorn

Not used to cuddling at all and quite a stiff sleeper. Once he is comfortable with you, though, that safeguarding streak of Beorn's emerges. Though he does not tend to cuddle to sleep unless you ask for it, peace flows through his whole being when you curl at his side, his form still straight but one arm extended out that much further to rest along your back, a hand at the small of it.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude @kpopgirlbtssvt @rivendell-poet | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

280 notes · View notes

brainrotbabe24 · 9 months ago

Note

Okay HELLOOO so i wanna request Thorins company with a reader who is very feminine and pretty and stuff, but simultaneously very bossy, assertive, dominant and likes telling people what to do and stuff?? If that makes sense lol

Have a good day/night!!!

HI!! This was such a fun one to write! I'm not sure if it answers the questions correctly, but I just got lost in the sauce with this one and went crazy, lol 💖😂

Balin: Balin admires your assertiveness. He finds it very fitting for you to be in command with your no-bullshit, bossy attitude. Balin would regularly turn to you for support, and he always trusted your honest opinions. He saw you as his advisor when he advises Thorin. Plus, your appearance only adds to your ability to persuade others…who could say no to those beautiful eyes. To him, you are a double threat—both in personality and looks—who can command respect and loyalty from anyone.

Dwalin: Dwalin is in love. The moment you started leading the group and demanding respect, he was captivated. Not to mention, your looks took his breath away. He loves a dominant, commanding presence who can lead a group, demand attention, and know their way around a weapon. *wink wink* Dwalin will always have your back, just as you have his. To him, you are an incredibly capable person.

Óin: Oin is glad you can handle yourself. The second you joined the group, he feared you might need constant protection, but you quickly proved him wrong. You instantly became an influential part of the group, guiding Thorin's decisions, earning the trust and respect of the group, and even outshining some of the most seasoned warriors. Your presence reassured Óin that you were vital to their mission.

Glóin: Link Oin, Gloin had doubts but was quickly shut up when he saw you fight. Your skills…your knowledge… your command. You dominated the battlefield, earning his respect. Even with blood splattered all over you, you were still gorgeous. Since then, Glóin has been ready to drop everything and listen to you, knowing you are someone worth following.

Bifur: Bifur is inspired by your assertive personality. You don't address the group broadly; instead, you call out each person, demand perfection, and engage in personal, intimate conversations. You look at each one of them as their own person. He likes that you take charge while ensuring everyone is seen and valued. You inspire him and make his heart soar whenever you call out his name with a wink.

Bofur: Bofur is lost in your beauty. He can barely focus on what you say when his mind drifts to how soft your lips look when bossing around the group. How your brow furrows when something isn't up to your standards. How you let your guard down just a little when someone compliments you. His mouth goes dry, and his knees are weak whenever he's near you, lost in admiration. Sadly, your commands are lost to him.

Bombur: Bombur is scared of you. You are one wickley, intimidating person. Your commanding presence and fiery attitude make him cautious not to cross your path. However, he can't help but steal glances, admiring how the sunlight dances on your skin. Although he is scared, he starts to think he might have misunderstood you. Maybe there is more to you than a bossy attitude—he might even start looking up to you.

Ori: Ori finds your personality and appearance to be a sick joke. How could someone some sweet, so tender, so feminine bark such harsh orders? He is caught between feeling like he must listen to you and listening to his brother, Dori, who seems to contradict everything you say. Ori is lost but knows that all he wants is to follow you, even if it means going against his brother's wishes.

Dori: Dori is confused and conflicted about you. He feels like he should dislike you and how you boss people around, especially his brothers. But at the same time, he can't help but admire you and how you can control situations, get his brothers to listen, and cooperate. It's a love-hate relationship for Dori, as he both resents and respects your ability to lead.

Nori: Nori grumbles whenever he hears your commanding voice directing the company. He hates being told what to do. He hates how your face will twist into a smirk when he jokes with you, and you already have a comeback set up. He hates your soft smile, and he hates that he loves hearing you say his name. But he especially hates it when he finds himself obeying your commands without hesitation. Hate is a strong word for Nori…he just hates how you make him feel. Yet he could never fully hate you—not when you look like a perfect creation of Aulë, as beautiful as Yavanna herself.

Thorin: It's complicated. Thorin constantly feels like he is competing with you, as if you're planning to undermine him at any moment. He glares, snarls, and pushes past you, rejecting your demands. Yet, there is one thing he is a complete bumbling idiot about—your laugh. The way you laugh is dangerous. It's infectious, bold, and handsome, and it takes his breath away. Despite all the tension and jealousy, when you laugh, Thorin feels safe, and all his competitive instincts vanish.

Fíli: "Yes, mommy!" Fili is utterly devoted to you. Your commanding orders make his heart race, and your beauty leaves him blushing. He often finds himself staring, and when your eyes lock, he waits eagerly for your sass —he craves it. Fili would do anything for you. He would get on his knees for you, worship you, even die for you.

Kíli: Kili can be a bit of a brat when it comes to your authority. He laughs at the way you hold yourself, demanding respect and directing the group to do things. Pfft. He practically hates it, wanting to prove that he's your equal. But when you snap back at him and grab his shirt, he finds himself caving. "I'm not listening to you," he might say, but the moment you respond with, "I'll make you listen, Kíli," he's putty in your hands.

Bilbo: Biblo is a little ass. The first time he met you, he thought you were a perfect copy of Thorin. Both of you are beautiful, alluring yet domineering and controlling. He rolls his eyes at your bossy attitude. But over time, Bilbo starts to realize how utterly wrong he is. He sees you as protective, loving, and a material figure for the group. His initial distaste and sass fades, and he soon comes to see you as his rock. He needs that when all seems to go to hell during the journey.

Gandalf: Gandalf trusts you completely. He knows that with you around, the group is in good hands, which is why he leaves so much in the movies. Your skills and wit speak for themselves. You're quick to take charge in high-intensity situations, yet your feminine side allows for more compassionate, loving care. Gandalf wouldn't have come to you for help on this important quest unless he trusted you to keep the dwarves in line.

#the hobbit #thorins company #balin #dwalin #bifur #bofur #bombur #nori #dori #ori #gloin #oin #thorin oakenshield #fili #kili #bilbo baggins #gandalf #x reader

184 notes · View notes

justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year ago

Text

Flower Crowns - Dwalin X Female (Baggins) Reader

Title: Flower Crowns

Dwalin X Female Reader

Additional Characters: The Company, Ori, Kili, Fili, Thorin, Bofur, Balin, Oin (Mentioned), Bomber (Mentioned), Gandalf (Mentioned), Bilbo, Bard (Mentioned), Bard's kids (Mentioned), Alfrid (Mentioned), and the Mirkwood Elves (including Legolas and Tauriel (Mentioned))

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 5,252

Warnings: The Hobbit canon violence/weapons/death/etc, Reader is Bilbo's sister, misunderstandings, broody Dwalin, blood, injuries, nicknames, crying (brief), orcs, death, Ones, giant spiders, movie reference to a different movie (bonus points for those who get it), yelling, angst, and fluff

Trudging up the path with a woven basket of homemade muffins, you made your way up to Bilbo's home. You were a bit late. You were supposed to be at Bilbo's over an hour ago, but you had misjudged when you'd finish your muffins. And you knew how much Bilbo loved your muffins, so you were sure he wouldn't be too annoyed by your tardiness after eating a muffin or two.

Stopping at the door, you let out a small huff before knocking on the round door... Only to receive no answer. You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows before just entering. Pushing the door closed behind you, you heard voices from somewhere else in the Hobbit hole, confusing you even more. Had Bilbo invited others to dinner?

"Bilbo?" You called out, beginning to wander over towards the voices that quickly stopped after you spoke.

But before you could say anything more, Bilbo popped out into the hallway, rushing over to you. "Y/N, I believe we'll have to reschedule dinner." He spoke, rushed as he tried turning you around.

Your frown deepened as you twisted around in his hold, your eyes staring at the circular entrance of the dining room, "What do you mean? Who have you invited over?" Your curiosity was peaked now, and you wanted answers.

"Nothing! No one! Lovely seeing you!" Bilbo exclaimed, pushing you backward towards the door, ready to get you out. But before he could, you ducked out of his arms and sped towards the dining room.

You skidded to a halt at the entrance, eyes widening as your jaw dropped slightly. Bilbo sighed, rubbing his face with both of his hands before walking over and standing beside you. Eyes glued to the surprise visitors, you leaned over to Bilbo slightly; eyes unmoving from the surprise guests, "Bilbo... Why do you have thirteen Dwarves and a wizard in your dining room?"

~~~

And that was how you got roped into traveling alongside Bilbo, Gandalf, and the rest of the Company. Gandalf somehow convinced Thorin that having a second Hobbit would benefit the Company. And, unlike your brother, you wanted to go with them. You had read so many books about adventure and heard so many stories... You wanted to get out into the world and go on adventures that you had read in those books.

During the first few days of the journey to The Lonely Mountain, you became friends with most, if not all, of the Company. Kili and FIli, for example - the two youngest members of the Company - took you under their wing. When Thorin allowed the Company to rest, they would teach you how to defend yourself. Most lessons usually turned into fooling around most of the time, despite Thorin's grumblings. Fili and Kili were fun people to be around. They never failed to make you laugh, which was welcomed when having to face orcs and goblins almost daily.

Balin was like a father figure to you, always giving worldly and wise advice. Bomber often let you help in the making of breakfast and dinner. Ori, the sweetest of the bunch, would tell you stories, which you eagerly accepted to listen to every time. It gave you something to look forward to. And Oin, when free to do so, would teach you the basics of healing; showing you what herbs and plants worked best for certain ailments, which ones should be avoided, and so on.

You enjoyed each member of the Company's presence, but Thorin and Dwalin were the only two who hardly spoke a word to you. You weren't sure whether it was because they believed you didn't belong in the company, or because they were just not talkers. You hoped it was the latter.

But between the two, you really liked Dwalin. You liked his gruff demeanor - the brooding look on his face - and in addition, you really found him attractive. His muscular build, strong arm muscles, and dark hair; not to mention the tattoos on his arms - you wondered what their stories were. It surprised you, in the beginning, when you finally let the realization sink in. Even Bilbo, the only one that you had told about this attraction - you didn't fully trust Kili and Fili with the information - Bilbo was shocked, to say the least.

~~~

Walking with Kili and Fili, you snatched up bundles of flowers as you went, weaving and braiding them together into a crown. You had already made one for yourself, and Fili and Kili were quite invested in your creative, colorful craft.

"Where did you learn to create such things?" Fili asked as he watched you bend down, snatching up another flower from the grassy ground.

You shrugged, tying off another flower, "In Hobbiton, of course, Fili, dear," You began, fixing some of the flowers before continuing, "In originality, my mother taught me." You finished, weaving another flower into the crown.

"How does one make such intricate designs?" Kili then asked, twisting the stem of a flower between his fingers in thought.

You smiled back at him, "Well, it is quite simple, Kili, dear," You began, "You just have to braid the stems of the flowers together. Simple really." You answered, spying on Dwalin near the front of the line - just behind Thorin, you glanced over at the two Princes' beside you, "I'll be just a moment." You spoke before jogging over.

Your smile widened as you matched Dwalin's pace once by his side. Looking over and up at him, he didn't acknowledge your presence. It never bothered you, him ignoring you... You understood that Dwalin was not the type of person to just chit-chat, especially when there were bigger things to do and worry about. Lonely Mountain speaking.

Finishing the flower crown in your hands, you offered it up to the Dwarf, a bright smile on your face. "I made this for you." You explained softly, the flower crown - made of yellow, white, and red wildflowers - sitting in your hands.

Dwaling stopped, and so did the rest of the Company. You suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over you - all eyes on the two of you - watching as Dwalin slowly turned his head to look down at you, to the crown, and back. And for a moment, you thought that you saw something flash in his eyes, something that wasn’t brooding, determined, or angry. You swallowed, finding yourself unable to take your eyes off his, your ears and cheeks burning as he grumbled and huffed through his nose. You were confused, your hope and happiness dwindling - your hands lowering slowly - as Dwalin turned and continued walking.

Fully dropping your hands to your sides, you watched him go; feeling completely rejected. You knew that it was stupid. It was just a flower crown... And yet, you still held onto it with all of your heart, clutching it tightly in your hand; unintentionally crushing the flowers beneath your fingers. What did you do wrong? You just wanted him to like you... Tears stung in your eyes, but you refused to cry in front of everyone.

The rest of the Company soon passed you, some giving you sympathetic smiles, some patting you on your shoulder or back. Fili and Kili stopped beside you, Kili frowning softly, as Fili gave you a pat on the top of your head; careful not to disturb the flower crown on your head.

"Don't worry, Miss Y/N," Fili spoke, "He'll come around."

Kili nodded, "I assure you, he will." He let out a small chuckle, but you knew he wasn’t laughing at you. That was just him.

You nodded, doubting, but saying nothing more as they turned and followed the group; Bilbo finally coming over. "I'm alright." You muttered, looking up at him. You knew that he was going to ask you if you were alright.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..."

You shook your head, "No, it's okay." You whispered softly, trying to give him the best smile you could give him to ease his worries, "I don't know why I am so caught up in this... I must understand that I'm not really everyone's cup of tea. Not everyone wants to be my friend. If he doesn't want to be friends with me... Then, that's alright." You explained softly. Bilbo stared at you for a long moment before you began walking, dropping the flower crown to the ground.

~~~

The night was cold, the stars shining brightly down from the sky as you huddled close to Bilbo; next to the fire. It was hard to sleep, still not fully used to sleeping on the woodland ground, but you were getting there. And, soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep.

Dwalin, on the other hand, having the first night watch, stared into the fire before him. It was quiet, aside from the fire crackling and the crickets chirping. Dwalin seemed to be lost inside his own mind, his eyebrows furrowed, and dark eyes narrowed in thought. Hearing a small grunt and feeling the log under him move slightly, Dwalin glanced over to see Balin sitting beside him. Balin hummed lowly, staring at the fire, rubbing the palms of his hands together.

"She didn't know, Dwalin." He spoke softly, not wanting to wake the others from their sleep, and only getting a deep mumble from his younger brother; at the mention of you, Dwalin's eyes flickered from the fire to your sleeping figure; curled up beside Bilbo. "She does not know of our courtship rituals. I should’ve told her more about our culture." Again, getting nothing from Dwalin, Balin continued, "She only wishes you to speak to her. You have hardly spoken a word to her since leaving Bilbo's home." He stared at his brother's side profile, "You can confide in me, brother."

Dwalin continued his silence, his eyes falling upon you once more. He was conflicted. Ever since he saw you enter the dining room of Bilbo's Hobbit hole, Dwalin had been unable to stop thinking about you. The way you moved and talked... Your features were sharp, yet delicate, your lips pouting, and your hair flowing. You were kind, bright, and soft; everything Dwalin wasn't. Dwalin was rough and tough. He had scars, he had seen death, and he had seen suffering. But, you... He had never seen someone as beautiful as you. You were different. Dwalin sighed deeply, looking away from you. He didn't know how to approach you; he couldn't bring himself to act on his feelings.

But he knew that you were his One.

He knew the moment he saw you.

Dwalin hated being vulnerable, and he hated admitting anything to anyone. So he sat, his jaw clenched tight, trying his hardest to fight his growing feelings for you.

"She's my One." Dwalin found himself muttering, far too quiet for most to hear, but Balin heard.

A knowing smile graced his oldened features. "I presumed so." Balin spoke with a hum, "I can only... Advise that you should speak to her. She cares for you. I am sure that she would understand." Balin stated, before letting out a small sigh, standing, "Think about it, will you?" And with that, Balin found his sleep sack, rolling into it and falling asleep.

Dwalin stayed awake much longer into the night, contemplating his decision as he waited for Gloin to take over the night watch. His older brother's words echoed throughout his head, and with a deep gruff, he let his eyes stray from the fire; the light making his eyes burn slightly. His eyes flickered from around the woods that surrounded him, to the Company before finding the stars and the moon in the sky, and finally... Back to you.

You, in your sleep, muttered something softly, unnoticeable. He watched as you rolled to your side, shivering, your hand pulling the fur blanket closer to you. Dwalin's eyes lingered on you, his mouth slightly agape before he snapped his gaze away. Feeling a wave of frustration towards himself, Dwalin's gaze landed on his sleep role.

~~~

The next morning, you woke up to a bright blue sky, filled with white, fluffy clouds. You let out a sigh, eyelids fluttering as you shifted slightly and let out a breath. You groaned lightly before freezing. Your fingers brushed against the fur blanket over you, feeling the coarseness of the material. It was warm. Very warm.

Your eyebrows furrowed; confused. You opened one eye, squinting at the bright sun that was peaking above the tree canopies. Slowly turning over onto your back, you sat up, looking down at the blanket... Or should you say... Blankets?

You stared down at the fur blanket, that was not your own, before flipping the fur up, spying your fur blanket underneath. This second fur blanket - which wasn't yours - was a deep brown color, with little bits of white. Who gave you this last night? Were you really that cold last night that one of the Dwarves had given you their blanket out of kindness or pity? You felt a sense of gratitude fill your chest. Looking down at the furry blanket, you couldn't help but let out a smile.

Looking up, you let your eyes survey the small camp, hopping from Dwarf to Dwarf until they settled on one. Dwalin. A wave of warmth passed over you, watching as he packed his sleep role away and into his pack. As Dwalin stood to leave, he glanced over at you, meeting your gaze for a brief moment; before quickly darting his eyes away, going over to Thorin.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch slightly, a frown threatening to form on your face as you looked at Dwalin's retreating back. Did he hate you? Did he find you annoying? All these questions ran through your head, but you only huffed, getting up from your sleep role. You were not going to let Dwalin's behavior towards you sour your mood. Today was a beautiful day, and you wanted to savor it.

~~~

You couldn't see, and all you could feel was the feeling of falling. You felt as if you were wrapped in something. It was tight around you, almost suffocating. Anxiety washed over you, gripping your heart painfully as your lungs begged for air. But you could hardly breathe. You needed to breathe, but you were trapped. You clawed at the sticky white substance that surrounded you, trying to rip it and free yourself, but you were not strong enough. You felt like giving up, though you knew you couldn't, but as you clawed at the sticky film, you could finally hear what was going on outside of the cocoon. You could hear the Dwarves yelling, yelling about spiders.

Before you could do anything else, someone from the outside ripped open your cocoon. You blinked rapidly at the slight change of light, finding yourself back in the creepy woods. A large hand reached out to you and you quickly grabbed it, the person behind the strong hand pulling you up with force. Stumbling slightly, you felt slightly dazed, the hand still in yours as you found yourself in a giant spider fight.

As you stood amidst the chaotic scene of giant spiders attacking the Company, your heart raced with fear and adrenaline. Eyes unable to leave the giant spiders - tunnel-vision - you gripped the hand in yours; giving you slight reassurance. The air was filled with the sounds of battle - the clang of weapons, the hiss of the spiders, and the shouts of the Dwarves. You could feel the sticky strands of webbing brush against your skin as you dodged and weaved through the throng of arachnids. You felt gross and dirty; and for the first time since the start of this long journey to The Lonely Mountain, you missed your Hobbit home.

With each passing moment, the fight intensified, the odds seemingly stacked against you and the Company. Your wide eyes danced around you, trying to spot Bilbo, but you couldn't find him. You wanted to yell out, to shout, but as your mouth opened, no words came out. There was an odd buzzing noise in your ears, your heart was beating loudly in your chest; harsh against your ribcage. Only then, did you look at the person who held you so close to them. You thought it couldn't have been Kili or Fili, but you spotted the two Princes when you lifted your gaze. Looking down at the hand that held yours, you felt your racing heart freeze for just a moment; an auditable hitch escaped your throat, but you didn't dare utter a sound.

Standing in front of you and holding your hand tightly in his own was none other than Dwalin. You knew it was him. You knew those tattoos. Trailing up his muscular arm, you were finally met with the side of his face. His expression was hardened as he held his weapon tightly in his other hand. Aside from the anxiety and nervousness that had overcome you, you were incredibly impressed. Dwalin, with one hand, fought off giant spiders, whilst also keeping you perfectly safe.

At the sound of something coming from up in the trees, you looked up, watching as no more than two dozen elves jumped to the ground, taking out the last of the large, monstrous spiders from around you. One of the Elves spoke to another, you noted her red hair as they spoke in Elvish. You wished that you could understand them. Your awe of them quickly diminished when they drew their weapons, arrows drawn and at the ready; circling around you and the Company. Soon, they demanded your weapons, and before you knew it, all the Dwarves were weaponless.

"What about her?" One Elven guard asked in a demanding tone. Your eyes lifted up, finding the guard staring down at you. "Hand whatever you have over instantly." He demanded, holding out his hand, only for Dwalin's hand in yours to tighten slightly, gently pushing you behind him.

"She bears no weapons, Elf." He spoke in his deep, gruff, disgruntled voice. The Elf stared down at Dwalin for a moment before staring right back down at you, with a sniff and a small 'humph' he turned away.

The blonde Elf, the one that you believed to be in charge of the whole group, yelled out something in Elvish, and before you knew it, you and your Dwarven friends were being pushed along, being led to hopefully, not your doom. Passing Thorin, you looked at him with pleading eyes, "Thorin, where's Bilbo?" Only for your answer to be unanswered.

Your hand never left Dwalin's, your free, unoccupied hand found his arm; the skin upon skin contact grounded you, allowing you to calm yourself ever so slightly. You finally took a chance to look around, finding the forest opening, revealing a stone bridge. Pillars, beautifully carved, gave way to the entrance of Mirkwood, the Elven Kingdom. You wished you had the time to admire the architecture of the kingdom, but, sadly, you did not. Before you knew it you were being tossed into a cell.

A hand fell upon your shoulder, pulling you to the side, your hands falling from Dwalin's. "Dwalin!" You called out, trying to reach for him, but you were soon shoved into a cell. Stumbling over your feet, you braced yourself on the rock interior of the cell. Hearing the heavy cell door close behind you, you snapped your head up; feeling exhausted, mentally and physically, but you pushed yourself forward. Your hands curled around the bars, trying to look at the cells beside yours. The sound of the now-captured Dwarves - yelling and complaining.

"Miss Y/N!" Fili yelled out, only a few cells away from yours, "Are you alright!?"

"I'm fine!" You called back, "Is everyone else alright?"

Most, if not all, of the Dwarves, replied with various 'ayes’. You sighed in relief, closing your eyes; the chill of the cell door refreshing on your forehead.

Sitting on the floor - you felt the hours pass you by slowly - you pressed the back of your head against the wall; tired. "I wager the sun is on the rise. Must be nearly dawn." Bofur called out, his voice echoing throughout. Your eyes fluttered open, a yawn leaving your parched mouth.

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori asked, sounding resigned, making you sigh.

"Don't fret, Ori, dearest." You spoke up, sounding a bit resigned yourself, but you were determined to keep everyone's spirits high. "We'll make it." You continued, looking out of your cell door, "We will." With that said, you stood up from the ground, wincing as pain shot through your legs. Looking down, you noticed a rip in your trousers that you replaced your usual dress with. Pushing the ripped fabric to the side, you then noticed a red substance that trailed down your leg; coming from a small scratch on your calf. "Well," You spoke up, clearing your throat. "I may have been slightly injured."

Simultaneously, the Dwarves began to talk. Their voices became louder, some with more worry and concern. "Miss Y/N, you are injured!?" You heard Fili call from his cell.

"Yes, tis but a scratch." You explained, hoping the Dwarves would stop fussing over you. You weren't a damsel in distress. You were strong, even with a bloody scratch. "But worry not, dearest Dwarves, it's nothing I can't handle."

"You won't have to handle it for long." You heard, eyes widening - mimicking your bright smile - as Bilbo appeared at your cell door, holding the keys.

~~~

When you joined the Company on their journey, you did not expect that you'd trick goblins, climb bit trees, fly on eagles, fight giant spiders, and barrel ride down a raging river. This was certainly an adventure that you'd go through again, minus the goblins and giant spiders; you'd love to fly with the eagles again.

Somehow, you survived, floating down the raging river, your clothes all sopping wet, and river water dripping from your hair. As all of your barrels fell down a waterfall, you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Behind you, you could hear the laughter of some of the dwarves. For a moment, you forgot about your injuries; and the exhaustion that was seeping into every fiber of your body. Your hands tightened your grip on the railing of the barrel, praying for it to not capsize or tip over, your fingers growing numb with cold. You tried desperately to ignore what was going on around you. Smelling the fresh air, and hearing the birds chirping above you, almost made you forget everything else.

But at the sound of a horn, you were quickly snapped out of your head, watching as the suited Elves began to shut the gate; the only way to escape. All joy, and a sense of freedom, flew right out of the window. You all collided with each other at the closed gate, you huffed, glaring up at the Elven guards before your eyes caught sight of an arrow flying through the air, and into one of the guards.

"Orcs!" You yelled out, gesturing up at the guards, as the one that was shot fell into the water below; almost hitting you. "Why does it always have to be orcs?"

You dodged the best you could when dead elves and dead orcs fell into the water, along with dodging arrows, and over-confidant orcs that tried to swing at your head.

You were about to call for Bilbo, but when you turned your head, you watched as your brother stabbed a sword into an orc, defending one of the dwarves.

"Miss Y/N!" Ori cried out, making you look over to him, only for him to point above you.

You looked up, your eyes widening at an orc - dead - began falling towards you. Unable to move, almost frozen in fear, you squeezed your eyes shut and shielded yourself with your arms, only for your barrel to be pushed back and out of the way. You opened your eyes, blinking them rapidly as the river water splashed in your face. Looking over, you just saw a glimpse of Dwalin turning back around. Despite the obvious danger that you were all in, you wondered what you could do for Dwalin since he had saved your life twice now.

Turning your eyes to the side, you watched as Kili ran up the side of the stone top of the gate, you covered your mouth as an arrow flew through the air and hit him in the leg. Fili cried out of this younger brother, as Kili then opened the gate, and fell into an empty barrel.

Falling down, yet another waterfall, smaller than the last, you pushed your wet hair from your face, only to grip the barrel with as much force as you could; the raging, white-foaming waters continued. Looking to your side slightly, you watched as Bilbo held onto a barrel, holding onto the sideway barrel, his own death-like grip. You felt a small bit of relief, seeing him safe. You, and the Company, continued down the river, and the longer you tried not to tip over and drown, the more you wished that you weren't in the freezing waters.

Finally, the raging stopped, and the river was calm. Leaning over slightly in the barrel, you brushed your hands in the freezing water, moving your barrel forward slowly, but carefully.

"Make for the shore!" Thorin yelled out, receiving some 'ayes' in return.

Pushing your barrel forward, you pressed your cheek against the rim of the barrel, your eyes drooping slightly as you continued to push yourself toward the shore. Your barrel soon hit the rocks, and you used the rest of your strength to get out of it, climbing up onto the rocks; completely soaked. You trudged up the rocks, wrapping your arms around yourself as you mentally counted those around you, counting fourteen. Mentally, you could rest.

Feeling a hand on your upper arm, you looked to the side, seeing your brother Bilbo. Just his presence made you give him a small smile, seeing the worry in his eyes. "I'm alright." You spoke to him, wanting to reassure him, "I'm just cold."

At the surprise of meeting Bard, the human, you sort of let your brain shut off. You felt your feet move as you followed the Dwarves to Bard's boat. You felt yourself sitting down in the corner next to Bilbo, and hiding from Alfrid, but you were far from the present. You were so tired, mentally and physically, that you let your mind quiet, letting yourself only fade back into the world you knew once you felt the warm fire at your feet.

"Wee lass hasn't spoken since the Elves." You heard a hushed voice, it was Bofur.

You pressed your legs closer to yourself, staring into the flames. The clothing you were given, having been one of Bard's daughters, was warm; the fabric soft - your fingers toyed with the soft material.

"Is she alright?" Ori asked worriedly, only for Bilbo to nod, crossing his arms.

"She's alright. She had told me so." Thorin only gave you a short glance before turning back to Bard.

Dwalin, with his arms crossed, turned to look at you, staring at your side profile. Glancing over at the table that Bilbo sat at, Dwalin said nothing, walking over to the table and grabbing a plate. Bilbo, in turn, watched as Dwalin filled the plate with a few potatoes, two small tomatoes, and a small slice of bread.

Your eyes picked up the sound of heavy footfalls coming towards you, and at the sight of a plate coming into your field of vision, you moved your head to look up. As you looked at Dwalin, his face stoic as usual, you couldn't help but smile. Taking the plate, your fingers briefly brushed against his.

"Thank you, Dwalin." You spoke softly, but before he could slink away, you grabbed his hand, stopping him. For a moment, you thought back to when he held your hand so tightly - protectively - in the Mirkwood forests. "Thank you for saving me. Twice." You smiled at him softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "And I apologize if I had anything to upset you, or make you uncomfortable." He glanced over at you, then down at your hand which was wrapped around his. He didn't remove his hand from yours, giving you the same squeeze that you had received from him earlier today.

Dwalin stared at your hand in his, his jaw clenching before he looked back to you, his eyes softening. "You did not, dorzada." He spoke gruffly, “Eat.” He finished before leaving your side, your hand dropping from his.

You looked down at your plate of food, your stomach grumbling and spinning, as your mind wandered. Picking up the slice of bread, you bit down on it, thinking about the word that Dwalin called you. You wondered what it meant.

~~~

"Oin, stay with Kili." Thorin commanded as the rest of the Dwarves began to gather their things. Without being told, Fili stayed by his brother's side.

"I want to come too." You spoke, grabbing a random weapon from the wooden table.

Dwalin quickly turned, staring down at you, "It will be too dangerous for you, lass."

You huffed, lightly glaring up at the Dwarf, "I have fought trolls, orcs, what have you." You pointed out, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "I want to fight."

"This is against us Dwarves and the dragon." He grumbled, his hand taking a hold of the weapon in yours. "You'll die before the beast does."

"I'm already dying anyway," You shrugged, looking back down at your weapon, "From the moment we're born, we're dying. So, what is the point? I want to help."

Dwalin breathed out of his nose as he took hold of your other hand, "No, no, lass, you are staying here, with Kili, while the rest of us fight."

"Are you telling me, or are you commanding me, Dwalin?" You asked, voice becoming soft as his eyes bored into your own. "Do as you wish then," You sighed when receiving no answer, letting go of his hands, "But please, do not die."

Dwalin humphed, the corners of his lips just twisting up into a small grin, and for a moment, you were stunned. Dwalin was smiling. "Don't worry," He spoke. "I won't." His gaze softened, as he stepped back from you, "Be safe, lass." With that, he started to walk away, only for you to grab his arm and stop him. You didn't say anything else, merely pulling him close to you.

You felt him tense in your abrupt embrace before his one hand, not holding his weapon, circled you. But, it all ended too soon, as he pulled back from you, nodding to you before turning his attention to the group, as they set off to The Lonely Mountain.

Your shoulders sagged when the door closed, a small pout upon your lips, "Do not fret, Miss Y/N," Fili spoke from beside his brother as you turned to look over at the four Dwarves - Kili, Fili, Bofur, and Oin. "They will return."

You let out a sigh, looking out at the window. A fuzzy feeling rose within your chest, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself. After watching them disappear into the distance, the sun went to sleep, "I know."

---

Main Masterlist | The Hobbit/LOTR Masterlist

345 notes · View notes

curious-trickster · 11 months ago

Note

Pretty sure this is a lyric from a song but not positive, "I'm better as a memory than as your man."

I can really picture it for Bagginshield, especially in the healing tents after the battle of the five armies. I think it works well as a line coming from Thorin, perhaps when he wakes up after Ravenhill and Bilbo is like don't you dare! You are not going to decide for me if you are a better memory than a romantic partner. I expect all the courtship after you have recovered or so help me, Mahal will not save you from my wrath. So of course Thorin has to recover.

Also I can see it working really well for Johnlock, perhaps right before Reichenbach, coming from Sherlock. I'm not sure how John would respond. I can see multiple options like no way, no matter how frustrated I can get at you I love you and then alternate John gets to help/no reichenbach at all or much more angsty of John is shocked because they don't acknowledge feelings and then the whole things happens and John is left with that memory until he sees Sherlock again and he assures Sherlock that he is much better as his man than a memory.

Any opinions on either pairing? Who do you think would use the line? Any other pairings you think it would work for?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

Oh my, YES!

I can totally picture a guilt ridden Thorin saying something like that and Bilbo just standing there, totally floored at first. And then the indignation starts to rise and Thorin is faced with a furious little Hobbit, who didn't fight in a thrice damned war Thorin, even though Hobbits really aren't made for facing orcs, bloodshed or fighting against an army, thank you very much!, just to be to told that he would be better of without the guy he fought so hard for! How Thorin could even consider him leaving, after everything they've been through! And especially after Bilbo got a glimpse of the future they could have together, in those short few hours after the reclaimed Erebor, before the gold sickness set in! They had wandered the great halls, which would be filled with life again soon, talked about the stuff that needed fixing first, and imagined the future that was to come. The future which had Thorin on the throne, with his nephews to teach for the future generation, Balin and Dwalin as advisor and guard right beside him, Nori as spymaster and Ori as the one in charge of the library, while Dori helped train and form the younger generation, Bombur taking over the role of kitchen headmaster, Bofur with his own toyshop, Bifur helping Dori train the warrior's, Oin keeping watch over the fires in the halls of the blacksmiths, Gloin filling the role as treasuremaster. And right there with all of them, a little Hobbit, who finally found people who he could call family. And really, Thorin had also pretty much declared his intent to court him in front of everyone, so he better get himself out of bed soon to be able to really start courting him, and Bilbo was expecting all the stops, really Thorin, there will simply be no skimping it!

After this really spectacular rant, Thorin is just staring dumbfounded at Bilbo and wondering aloud, just when exactly he declared his intent to court Bilbo?

And the Hobbit just stares back, hands on his hips, and tells him: 'I don't know if you really are as much of a fool as you are making yourself out to be or if you think me a fool, but gifting someone a piece of armour - impenetrable armour even - which is worth nearly more than the receivers homeland and staring deeply into the receivers eyes while you hand it over in front of everyone is not considered a show of simple affection between friends even by dwarven standards. And don't bother arguing with me on this, I asked!'

I think there's no need to mention, that Thorin started courting Bilbo properly as soon as he was well enough to do so. The courting was a thing of legends, a story told to the future generations as a sort of fairytale and to make them see, just how serious you should be about impressing the one you love.

Bilbo is just glad Thorin finally got his head out of his ass.

As for the Johnlock: I could see it, especially as an internal monologue that plays in Sherlocks head as he stands on top of the roof, preparing to jump. It would be the kind of bittersweet story that makes you ache with the longing. And then the reunion. Sherlock realising what a fool he was to ever give this up. Being back in John's presence is like finally finding colour again after spending a long time feeling as if the world is washed out and faded.

There could be this kind of confession scene, where after they had an ugly fight Sherlock just spills his guts and admits, that he thought John would be better of without him. That he didn't think it would impact John this much and that he hadn't ever imagined how much the separation from John would hurt-

Safe to say there is a big strong hug waiting at the end of the emotional conversation the two have about their feelings for each other. It isn't forgiveness but understanding. And they can build up from there.

This is really long and I can feel that I will probably spend time writing fanfiction today. Thanks for the inspiration @amloveabledeathmo!

23 notes · View notes

ironmandeficiency · 2 years ago

Text

the hobbit + hozier songs

characters included: kíli, bilbo, dwalin, thorin, nori, bofur, ori, fíli, dori, tauriel

word count: 1166

a/n: the amazing and precious @wordbunch inspired me to write these bc of her lotr/th characters as taylor swift songs posts & i couldn't be more excited to finally post this labor of love!! thank you bestie for listening to me scream abt this for nearly two months lol

kíli: foreigner’s god

he loves outside of his race and this fact causes undue scorn to be thrown at his feet. it’s unheard of for almost any dwarf, let alone one from the line of durin, to do such a thing. this does not deter him - it empowers him; if his heart could go against the traditions forged into his bones, molten in his hot blood, how could it not be true? the strength of his love is what helps him ignore the doubts shouted by the prejudice plaguing those who know nothing of his heart. that, and the sound of your laughter at his antics, the soft smiles only given to him when he’s being a little too charming… he could go on.

bilbo: like real people do

as much flack as bilbo gets from the company for not being conventionally tough, he’s not weak by any means. he’s familiar with the pain of loss, and how the ways one tries to rise above the grief that follows aren’t always savory. he knows there’s a respect to be found in the absence of prying questions, choosing simply to coexist in the feelings and allow answers to come in their own sweet time. he’ll put some tea on to cook and scrounge up some leftovers from the previous meal, sitting beside you and letting the comfort flow naturally, his soft lips soothing the most tender aches.

dwalin: work song

just looking at him, you wouldn’t think dwalin a sap. but with his insanely strong sense of loyalty and stalwart dedication, he can’t be anything but. he’s faced down innumerable evils in his time, braved the fiercest of storms that many of his comrades didn’t; none of them even come close to keeping him from you. your arms welcome him home without question after each fight he braves, and your letters tucked into secret compartments in his armor keep him warm between embraces. he’ll read them by the fire every night when he’s away, every gentle word carrying his mind away from thoughts of the day’s turmoil.

thorin: sedated

this sweet, sad man doesn’t think he deserves good things in life. this, unfortunately, includes having someone love him despite his flaws and past mistakes. he couldn’t resist admitting his feelings for you and was ridiculously shocked that you reciprocated & allowed him to love you. on nights when he feels his failures deeper, he’ll try to convince you that he doesn’t deserve you. vitriol will escape from worried lips and terrified heart, piercing you in the way only a lover knows how. a soft kiss, gentle words, and a few strokes through his hair will soothe these wounds from him for a time and allow him some of the peace he’s fought to find, but doesn’t always believe is earned.

nori: it will come back

it was decades since the last time nori thought of love, even longer since he believed himself worthy of it. meeting you only solidified his disbelief; how could someone look at him and see someone that deserved such a pure thing, after everything he’s done in his life? he’s stolen, lied, cheated, and killed to survive (and sometimes not for mere survival). his attempts to spurn you away from him only increased your determination to break through the fortress he built around himself. he could only be strong against your advances for so long before he crumbled, reluctantly accepting the love and peace and safety you offered so freely.

bofur: nobody

bofur’s done a lot in his time. he was born in the blue mountains, a colony that never seemed to find the prosperity needed to do more than simply survive. he is a brother, uncle, cousin, friend, toymaker, miner, member of the great company that reclaimed erebor. but through all his adventures and hardships, he never lost his playful streak. he wants to have fun with who he loves, wants a little bit of mischief to make his laugh louder and brighter. bofur is a fun-loving soul who, despite his wandering past, will always choose you over anywhere that you’re not.

ori: francesca

ori’s life has never been a peaceful one. being raised by dori and being followed by the whispers of his late amad’s reputation (not to mention nori’s) without a mountain to call home, it weighed on his shoulders. even his craft, the pride of every dwarrow worth their beard, happened to be one seen as miniscule in importance compared to smithing. every moment spent with his one, doing anything or nothing at all, eases the burden he carries and makes every moment of strife worth it just to be with the soul made to mirror his.

fíli: i, carrion (icarian)

your love for him seems almost too good to be true, the remnants of stories told in dusty tomes written by those with far more eloquence than he can claim to possess. that being said, he is definitely not one to look a gift boar in the mouth. he relishes in each tender moment, every second spent in your presence that carries him far beyond the constraints life has placed upon him. but he recognizes that life isn’t always so simple, retreating into your arms and wishing that everything around you both just disappears. there’s always reality, waiting patiently outside of your chambers for one faulty misstep to throw you both askew. that’s why he dedicates himself to showing you that if life does what it does best and deals harsh blows, he will be there for you through it all.

dori: shrike

dori never had time for love; he had two brothers to protect, one more wily than the other was young. his focus was on getting his brothers through the days, putting food on their plates and the semi-frequently used stash of bail money well-stocked. he allowed his feelings for his one to fall to the wayside in the name of preservation. he ignored their call for decades and braved out the pain that came with such a silence. he begged for his one’s forgiveness every time they called for him. but once the mountain was reclaimed and his brothers safe, he yearned for what he could have had. he would approach his one with much regret and sorrow for the time lost, but a pure hope that they could find forgiveness in their heart for him.

tauriel: unknown/nth

to earn her love is a feat unlike that which the world has known for a long time. being seen as worth all these mortal struggles and painful toils in the eyes of an elf, let alone one as fierce as tauriel, is quite the achievement to anyone outside looking in. to the red-haired warrior in question, though, giving her love to you has the same unthinking ease as breathing; it’s beyond instinct to do and just as necessary to her survival. you’re worth every century spent alone, every moment after knowing you spent away from you.

468 notes · View notes

nocturnalnella · 2 months ago

Text

“The Weight Between Us”

Pairing : Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader.

Warnings : None.

~ Chapter 2 ~

The rain came down in sheets.

By the time the company found the shallow cave nestled in the hillside, you were soaked through — your cloak heavy, hair clinging to your face, and boots squelching with every step. Thunder cracked across the sky like a whip, echoing through the mountains. No fire would burn in this wind, and the company huddled together in the dark, the only warmth coming from shared breath and body heat.

Thorin had said little since the storm began. He’d been at the front, leading in silence, jaw tight, his hair plastered to his shoulders. The moment they’d found the cave, he’d taken to the far wall and sat down — arms crossed, cloak drawn around him like a barrier.

There was barely space for all of you. Dwalin and Bofur had already stretched out near the entrance, snoring softly. You lingered at the edge, eyeing the narrow gap between Bombur and Thorin — the only dry patch left.

“Go on,” Kíli said with a grin, his voice low. “He doesn’t bite.”

You weren’t so sure.

Still, you slid into the space, careful not to jostle anyone. Your back was turned to Thorin, and every inch of you felt his presence behind you — the way he shifted slightly as you settled, the deep breath he took, the warmth of him through your damp clothes.

You shut your eyes, willing your thoughts away.

The storm raged on outside, howling against the rock. Water dripped from the roof in slow, rhythmic taps. Time passed — it must have — but sleep didn’t come.

Your limbs were stiff, the stone beneath you unforgiving. Worse, your skin prickled from the cold, and a shiver worked its way up your spine despite your efforts to stay still. You pulled your cloak tighter, but it was already damp and offered little comfort.

Then, something shifted.

A soft rustle of fabric. The sudden, subtle weight of another cloak being draped over your side. You froze.

“You’re shivering,” Thorin murmured, voice rough from disuse — barely a breath.

“I’m fine,” you whispered.

He didn’t answer. But the cloak stayed. The silence stretched again, this time heavier.

Your shoulder ached. Your hip throbbed from the stone. And though you hated to move — hated to give away how much your body protested — you slowly turned to adjust, drawing your legs in slightly. You shifted onto your other side.

And stopped.

Thorin was facing you.

His eyes were open, watching.

You hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t prepared for the closeness — barely a hand’s width between you. The cave was so dark, but the faint glow from the outside storm caught in his eyes, casting pale gold along the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the furrow of his brow, the glint of something unspoken in his gaze.

Your breath caught.

Neither of you spoke. The storm filled the silence between you, distant now — like the world had narrowed down to this tiny space, and the shape of each other.

You weren’t sure who was holding stiller — him or you.

He looked tired. Not just physically, but in the way that carved itself into the corners of his mouth, the small crease between his brows. His hair was half-dry now, curling faintly, framing his face. And gods — you didn’t mean to, but your gaze lingered.

So did his.

The air between you was warm, despite the chill. Every breath you took seemed to draw in his scent — smoke, pine, the faintest trace of something metallic.

You told yourself to look away. You didn’t.

Then something happened — something so small, it almost didn’t count. His fingers twitched where they rested between you, brushing your sleeve. Not a touch. But almost.

You felt it like a strike to the chest.

Your breath came shallower, but you didn’t speak. He didn’t either.

You wondered what would happen if you reached out — just once — just a single brush of your fingertips along the stubble at his jaw, or the edge of his sleeve. Would he pull away? Would you?

But you didn’t move.

Instead, your eyes stayed locked, and in that space, in that storm-lit hush, it was as if every word neither of you had said found a home. Not a confession, but an understanding.

And Thorin — proud, stubborn Thorin — let it happen. Didn’t turn away. Didn’t scowl or scoff. He simply watched you, and in his gaze was a softness so rarely shown it nearly undid you.

He shifted then — only slightly — his head resting back against the stone behind him. Not quite breaking the gaze, but letting his eyes close at last.

Your chest ached.

You watched him a moment longer, then let yourself relax, finally curling beneath the borrowed cloak, your body facing his. Your hand, still close to his, remained where it was — unmoving, almost touching.

And in the hush of the cave, under the weight of the storm and the deeper weight of things unsaid, you finally slept.

#richardarmitage #thorinoakenshield #thehobbit #thorinoakenshieldxfemalereader #thorinoakenshieldfanfiction #middleearth #dwarvesofmiddleearth #lineofdurin #kingunderthemountain

26 notes · View notes

somestorythoughts · 7 months ago

Text

You time travel and You time travel and-

Amusing myself by thinking of the entire Company of Thorin Oakenshield time traveling back to before the start of The Adventure.

Thorin wakes up, panics, immediately runs to Fili's room, and finds Fili there hugging Kili who's sobbing his heart out. Thorin staggers over to them and it's only after Kili's stopped crying that he learns Blog killed Kili and proceeds not to move for several minutes because he lost his nephews they died and he died and now they're all here and it takes a bit before any of them are able to move.

When Dis wakes up in the morning they're all red-eyed and look so bad she asks if someone's died.

Dwalin wakes up and once he realizes what happened goes to Balin, cause he's Dwalin's brother and trusted the history guy and the best person to subtly ask "hey are there any records of dwarves waking up in the past" only to find Balin frantically trying to find an answer to that exact question.

The first thing Gloin says when he sees Gimli is "why are you small??" Gimli, who's just had a growth spurt, is extremely offended. Oin overhears him complaining and that's when he realizes that something is also up with his brother. Which is good because he was seriously worried he'd taken a knock to the head.

Dori wakes up, immediately goes to check on Ori, and they both start comparing notes. When Nori comes back a week later intending the subtly check up on them Ori flat out asks is he time traveled too and Nori is immediately relieved he's not imagining things.

Bombur is slow to wake up when not under threat so doesn't realize something's up till he sees his kids, realizes they're smaller, and proceeds to do a headcount. His shout brings Bifur and Bofur running along with his wife and then he has to reassure Bifur because he's cousin thinks the ax has messed him up even more and Bofur's too busy expressing his shock by teaching the kids a whole lot of new words to help.

I think it'd be funny if none of the family groups shared this with the others so they didn't figure it out till Bag-End, but I also cannot imagine the entire group getting through even the first meeting of all 13 without either someone letting something slip or someone else just asking "anyone else remember how this meeting went the first time?"

Either way Bilbo greets the first dwarf(ves) to show up at his door with: "I made dinner. Try not to destroy my plumbing this time" And is immediately hugged.

Gandalf, who was not sent back, is very confused, but he will believe them if anyone actually tells him.

Alternatively, everyone wakes up simultaneously the morning after the unexpected party just "WHERE AM I?" And it's a big teary reunion with several people ending up on the floor because they ran out the door and into each other, and they stay at Bilbo's for at least a few days comparing notes and reassessing their plan. A lot of the first day is spent crying, and then of course there's a big grocery trip and a lot of cooking because there's 15 people there and Bilbo refuses to not feed them well before they all leave.

Either way, this leads both to changes in the journey and various interactions with people, but also to some new jokes. In particular, there is a lot of "didn't we pass that tree/stone/funky landmark already?" which leads to at least one "didn't we pass-" "enough with that joke!" "I'm serious this time!" (he's right, they're lost).

#the hobbit #the company of thorin oakenshield #thorin's company #bilbo baggins #time travel

43 notes · View notes

teaboot · 1 year ago

Note

Have you named pets after fandoms? When I was 11 I convinced my parents to name our, at the time new puppy, Duchess after the cat Duchess in Aristocats. We currently have Sherlock, a 10 yr old bull terrier mix who is actually quite a smart dog, Bofur, a 7yr old who knows what terrier dog, and Zuko, who is at least one year old, a red betta fish. We have other pets but none named after fandoms.

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer.

When I was four I had a goldfish named Dorothy after Elmo's fish, Dorothy, so maybe Sesame street was my first Fandom?

140 notes · View notes

rivendell-poet · 29 days ago

Text

Continuing with the theme of self-love I accidentally made in the other chapters! I present day 8 - stars

*･༓˚✧ ❝𝐁𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫❞ ‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « may drabbles/treat »

GN!Reader | Wordcount : 100 words | TWs : None

Watching you gaze at the stars, Bofur wonders if he’s seen you look more beautiful than bathed in their light. It isn’t the way the stars seem to make your eyes shine, illuminating you perfectly. Instead, it’s the fact you’re looking up at them in awe. How there’s pure joy and wonder in your eyes as you look at stars that seem to cover the entire night sky.

An infectious grin on your face, you turn to him, “Isn’t this… perfect?”

Bofur briefly looks to the sky, but when he answers he’s not thinking of the stars. “Yes, it is.”

« masterlist » thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @seduseamedusan / @king-on-carven-throne / @starwars2222 / @withasideofmeg / @wordbunch / @killermarionette / @bespectacledhuman / @howling-medic / @deannie13 / @paigemackenzie0206 / @awayaesworld / @permanently-nothere ✧ wish to join the taglist?

#the hobbit x reader #bofur x reader #treat #the hobbit treat #bofur treat #drabblechallengemay2025

19 notes · View notes

shirefantasies · 8 months ago

Text

I Now Pronounce You…Confused- Bofur x F!Reader

I’m really excited for this one! Found a hilarious trope prompt and one of my favorite shows has done this at least once too 😆

Warnings: mentions of alcohol/intoxication, suggestive jokes

Every pound of your head came like the cruelest heartbeat, painfully reminding you you were alive. A little too alive, frankly. It had been a long time, maybe even never, since you had indulged such as you’d chosen to the previous night, distracting yourself enough for the bottle to throw you right into the…cot? Bed?

Oh, stars. Bolting upright, you flung the blanket that was half-draped over your body off, realizing with the motion of your arm and the uncovering of your body that you were, in fact, still in the dress and pinafore you’d remembered putting on the previous day, not a scratch anywhere on you or it. Well, thank the heavens for that at least.

For that as well as the emptiness of the bedroom of sorts you were in. Perhaps you had simply gone awash and someone had walked you back there for a rest. Yes, that had to be it, you reflected as you slowly rose to your feet, slinging one leg followed by the other off the edge and gripping one of the posts for balance. Blast your splitting skull. Blast it all!

But judging by the doorway carved into the far sight of your square little brown quarters, at least there was what appeared to be a small washroom attached to the bedchambers. If not all hope was lost, anyway. Tugging your shifted skirts straight about your waist again, you tentatively squeaked across the old floorboards, glancing up at the molding around the ceiling. Very pointy-looking flowers and the like. That was right, you’d made your way to New Dale.

A traveler. That was what you were. Hadn’t found any reason to settle down yet, and if you’d made as much of a fool of yourself as you suspected, this place would be no exception. New Dale was to be the final stop on the way to see the infamous Lonely Mountain anyway, not much of a potential home, but right close and certainly availed of drink, not to mention quite the handsome mayor. Or whatever that Bard called himself.

At any rate, more than ready were you to disappear through that doorway and, with any luck, into a nice cool bath. You made your way over to it, but right as you made to step through another figure emerged, almost stepping into you, rocking back, and giving a call of shock to match yours.

He was a dwarf by the looks, and mainly height, of him, one a bit your senior and most distinctly wearing a great big hat that made you want to try it on so badly your hand twitched as if to make to swipe it off his head.

“‘N who might you be?”

The dwarf asked, tone not at all accusing, quiet as though he was as hungover as you, and frankly sounding more amused than anything else. The lilt of it carried an unspoken hint of ‘why not?’.

A rhetorical question you were more than happy to answer right back with one. “Were you in here all night?”

The dwarf looked taken aback by that, brown brows rising suddenly, seemingly before he could stop them. “Not like you’re thinking unless you aren’t thinking what I think you’re thinking. I don’t think.”

“What?”

“Can’t remember much of last night,” the dwarf answered, a gloved hand pressing to his hatted head, “but if you’re worried about how well we got to know each other last night, frankly I don’t even know if we got to names!”

You shook your head. “We mustn’t have, for I have not the foggiest what yours could be.”

At that, he smiled and you really took him in, realized what a kind and cheery-looking fellow he was. “Then let these introductions be all the sweeter. Bofur at your service, madam.” As punctuation he bowed at the waist, a hand flipping to extend toward you.

Letting out a chuckle, you gave your name, took his hand and felt your brow rise in surprise at the way he boldly brought your hand to his lips. It brought a smile to them, though, and with that out of the way Bofur waved a hand and bid you use of the washroom, which you gladly took up.

Should you have used the tub fully? Probably, but as it was you were still just a hint unsteady on your feet and drawing water sounded about as appealing as kissing a dragon right about then. Alright, maybe not that bad, but unpleasant enough. As it was you opted to take up a clean white rag and simply scrub yourself up as best you could, harsh hands grating soft fabric against your skin. The soap bar was simple, but a hint of orange blossom carried into the air around you as it bubbled lightly onto your moist body.

Upon finishing, you tugged your clothes back on, wrinkling your nose at the contrasting smell of wear pulling once more onto freshened skin. Drying your hands and lacing your shoes, you made your way back out, taking a curious peek around the doorway as if Bofur had been the product of a wild hangover dream.

Standing a short distance from the corner, the dwarf stood and waved a hand, offering a little smile. Not a figment of your imagination, then. Tentatively you waved back.

"We must've both just nipped off here to sleep it all away without realizing."

"Well, I guess that makes us roommates!" Bofur replied jovially, eyes turning upward with the joy of his smile.

"I guess so," you agreed, giving a smile of your own and emerging from your accidentally-shared room at his side.

Another enemy: a staircase. With a little 'whoa', Bofur pitched a little forward, grasped your forearm for stability, and gave a little hum of satisfaction before holding on completely. Your own rolling brain was silently grateful for the extra balance, the warm weight against you as you gripped the banister's smoothness. Joined like that you arrived down at the bottom and turned into the tavern, which already housed a mild bustle of patrons and servers.

One such woman came up to your side soon after you separated, hands joined at her waist and cheeks beaming with...pride? But what could she possibly-

"Well, if it isn't the newlyweds!" She exclaimed, sunshine positively beaming from all sides of her voice. "Frankly I am a bit surprised to see you out so soon. Well, no matter! Shall I prepare a spot of breakfast for the happy couple?"

"You're joking," Bofur snorted, "Right? We don't even know each other!"

"We met for the first time upstairs just now," you added, nodding agreement before turning back his way, "But I am sure we would enjoy some breakfast, thank you!"

"What are you talking about? You wed last night! No rings or anything, the two of you simply could not wait any longer! Quite romantic."

"I don't understand," Bofur said, gaze swinging up between you and this other woman, "We just got each other's names. Must've been another dwarf."

Leading you to your table, the woman spoke your names before you'd given them, reciting vows that named a brother and cousin Bofur had yet to mention at all, but that he'd apparently thought you'd like last night. Even though according to him the cousin, Bifur, needed some taking care of. Probably didn't hold his ale well. Your vows included an old joke about how you thought you'd be married in trousers, which was something you'd said to your family as a little kid. The name you'd been sure your future husband would have when you were twelve years old. All things this strange woman could never have known. Unless, of course, you'd spoken them last night drunk out of your mind.

"By my beard," Bofur breathed, clearly having come to the same conclusion, "We really did get married! Who in their right mind let us do that? Drunk as skunks, we were!"

"Probably the town justice you shook down 'Until I am bound to this fine woman for all eternity'," the server giggled as you wobbled into your seats, eyes still wide, "So, er, eggs then? Sausage? Bacon? Flapjacks?"

"All of the above," your companion sighed, eyes remaining locked on yours, "And whatever your strongest tea is, please."

"Just tea?" You asked with a sardonic smirk.

"Never got that hair of the dog stuff. 'Sides, don't want to end up like last night again, eh?"

"Maybe if we do it again we'll get divorced."

"I dunno, seems the liquor made us like each other a whole lot more."

"Could've liked each other even better," you quipped drily, glancing down at your clothing.

"You've got me there," Bofur chuckled.

He said nothing more as you waited for your tea, but some barely perceptible shift had occurred in his eyes, which occasionally shot down lower onto your form and then right back up again like they'd been slapped. Your own gaze wavered from his eyes a bit, tracing the line of his mustache down and back up again. He drummed his fingers in some unknown rhythm against the table's wood surface, glancing back up at you with some unspoken question you weren't sure if you wanted to answer.

"Your tea! Tea for two!"

Tension thoroughly cut, you both tore your eyes from each other to meet those of that same server once again, this time setting down a laden with tea things. Beaming at you again, she set a little white cup banded with green and gold, the center of each ribbon bearing lilies. White lilies, of course.

"Get it?"

"Yes," you groaned.

"Ah, lilies, that's clever," Bofur remarked, holding a cup up to his face and chuckling, "'S good, save for the fraudulence and falsehood of it all. Say, do you guys have honey?"

"Of course."

And with that, it was just you two again, you two and the tray and the steaming teapot that matched your cups. Was Bofur not feeling the pit of dread that sunk within you or was he truly that good at masking it? Or maybe he was truly so confident in your situation's coming reversal.

"So I suppose we track down that same justice to nullify this all?" You asked, staring down at your cup under the guise of ensuring nothing of your refreshment spilled.

"Supposing so," Bofur answered, accepting your proffered teapot from across the table, although he refrained from pouring anything, likely in anticipation of the honey, "For now, we may as well enjoy a nice meal, eh? I hear the flapjacks here are especially good."

"Oh? From who?"

"From my love of flapjacks! Now come on, how's about we get to know each other a little? Daresay we're a special kind of friends now. What brings you to New Dale? Business?"

"Quite the opposite," you snorted, leaning back until one of your chair's hard corners poked into the flesh of your back, forcing you to shift quickly to maintain an appearance half as nonchalant as Bofur's, "I had no more reason to go here than anywhere else save my own desire. New Dale was actually just a stop on the way to visit the mountain."

“Mountain?” Bofur asked, brows raised in great interest. “The Lonely Mountain? Erebor? That mountain?”

“Yes,” you giggled, “Any other names you’d like to give or is the hangover leaving your body now?”

“Well, what did you want to see? I’ll have you know your husband lives there."

"Let me see, the architecture, the history, that great mass of gold and gems I've heard so much about, all the beautiful things only dwarves can make."

"Men can make beautiful things, too," Bofur answered, "After all, they made you."

For once, your mind could not conceive of a single protest.

In the shadow of the Lonely Mountain you and Bofur strolled, Bofur pointing out the meaning of this flag and that statue until you had entered the great stone bulk and stared in awe at massive columns of whatever greenish stone and flying colors from a great indoor marketplace. In-mountain. Whatever the lot of it was, it did not smell nearly as dusty and dry in there as your imagination had conjured- how’d they keep it so nice?

Whilst there, Bofur bought you a souvenir. In drifting over the assortment of carven wood implements, your eyes slid back to a great stein numerous times. Inhaling the scent of the sawdust littering the floor behind the crafts-dwarf, you skimmed completely over spoons and even little statues of creatures of the woods to look at the thing, the thing finished smooth and set with some rune. One of joy, according to Bofur.

"You like it."

"No, I don't." A glance at the seller, then back to Bofur. "Well, yes I do, but I don't know if I can-"

Coins spilled onto the table. One, two, three.

"I can. I want you to have it. It reminds me of you, all things considered.”

“Drunken night?” The seller chuckled, crossing his arms and darting his eyes between you two as a smile spread beneath his bushy beard.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bofur answered with a chuckle before you could put in your own proverbial cent.”

“A stein?” You asked him as you walked off, waving the great big thing like the world’s stumpiest flag. “That’s my symbol now?”

“Come now,” Bofur tutted your name softly, giving a nonchalant little shrug, “‘s just a joke. If you don’t want to be known by this, then tell me what your favorite thing is.”

You’d think he was the homeless one for all his Mahal-may-care attitude, and yet there he was, relaxed and himself inside this mountain with his own people. For once you envied the static life, aching for something beyond the next port-of-sorts as you looked into his eyes.

“Swans.”

“What?”

“I’ve traveled a lot. But one village I saw I’ll never forget. It stood at the foot of a lake, and when you sat along the water you could watch all the white swans paddling across the water. It was so shiny and blue and they were so graceful. Not that they couldn’t kill you on land, but out there on the water? Anyone’d wanna be one of them.”

“I can see it,” Bofur told you, head tilted a bit.

“Really?”

“Sure,” he waved a hand, “You’re just like that! Pretty but don’t make ya mad. I like that. And say, I have just the thing for you then, Swan Lady, and it’ll be much better than some ol’ beer mug!”

Swan Lady. You liked that. It echoed through your head as you smiled and followed Bofur's eager lead deeper into the mountain.

‘Better than a beer mug’ was an understatement- Bofur led you beneath a doorway carven with bear cubs and birds and even little dwarven silhouettes, hanging banners of deep blue and yellow contrasting the stone. Light poured from it, a bright yellow light that still somehow stayed cozy. Firelight. A lot of little firelights. Through the welcoming waves of the carvings was an assortment of shelves lining every wall. Each of them was filled with different delights: porcelain figurines crowned in painted gold, wooden swords with unique hilt ornaments, wolves on wheels with strings matching the colors of their yellow eyes, grey fur, or red maws. Spinning mobiles hung from the ceiling in the form of anything from Erebor’s thrushes to whimsical winged ponies spinning in little skybound derbies. Where, you wondered, should your eyes fall next? Not to the mirrors, carved and waved for distorted reflections. You were still a little too hungover for that.

Bofur answered that question, softly catching your attention with your name before he waved you to a corner shelf. “Look here.”

Tearing your eyes from a squat wooden dwarf knight, you followed Bofur, only to see another pull-along toy, this time white. A swan with neatly carved feathers and eyes serenely shut. Capturing just what you’d described. Well, save for the wrath awaiting anyone annoying. It didn’t need it, though. Not this one.

A smile spread across your face, the stein in your hand lowering forgotten. “You’re right.”

“I am?”

“Of course you are.” You elbowed him playfully.

“I can’t believe it!” Bofur exclaimed with a grin. “Oh, here, come meet its makers, then. My cousin and my brother.”

For some reason, the thought of meeting Bofur’s family brought a little rush of heat. Meeting people wasn’t usually any pressure. Why a couple of toymakers?

Why indeed. Bombur and Bifur were right nice, even if the elder one didn’t speak. He got his point across well enough, and how he’d blushed when you complimented his beautiful swan! The pull-along he gifted you, sending a wink Bofur’s way.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bofur said again, but that time with a soft smile and gaze that didn’t pull away from yours.

Erebor’s halls were so vast as to almost feel outside despite their clear lack of sunlight or clouds or any such natural effect beyond stone, stone, and more stone. The air was clearer than any cave you’d been in- there must’ve been some sort of ventilation system. Fascinating. It made you want to build one of those wild mining pulleys they had just to shoot yourself to the top and crawl around for it. A few dwarves barreled past you and Bofur, almost knocking you over had his gloved hand not gripped yours. A grip as warm as you’d expected. Not that you’d imagined it. Nor had you imagined the way his voice softened when he told you “just in case”, eyes flicking tentatively up to yours.

“So, how’d you like Erebor?” Bofur’s voice shook your brain by its shoulders, dropping it from its thoughts and sensations of still-gripped hands.

“It was amazing,” you told him, strolling ever slower on your way back to New Dale, “I almost didn’t want to leave! Thank you for everything: showing me around, the gifts, better company than I deserved. I wasn’t the fairest this morning.”

“You- You- Well,” Bofur rubbed the back of his neck before dropping his hand down to take yours, “Plenty fair for me. In fact, can I tell you something?”

Inhaling deeply, you swallowed, something in those hazel eyes yanking a rush of words from deep in your chest. Erebor deep. Deeper than you ever thought you’d go. Deep enough that you almost feared it. You’d gotten outside the justice’s office, great grey-painted door looming before you like a heavy cloud.

“I have to tell you something too,” you told him.

“I want to stay married,” you both blurted out simultaneously.

Bofur’s jaw dropped. He gaped at you for several sped heartbeats before snapping out of it, shaking his hatted head and breaking into the widest, giddiest grin you’d ever seen. That morning you might have called it a dumb one. Right then? All you could say was how beautiful a sight it was. How it looked like home. That very thing you’d taken for granted for all those years thinking nowhere would feel like it. No one would want you. And yet with Bofur by your side it was like all those thoughts had gone poof into the pile of ash he told you the dragon had almost made of his company.

Before you could say anything, though, a pair of warmly clad hands took hold of your hips, yanking you against a fur coat and into the softest, most eager lips that could have devoured you. So intent on such were you, in fact, that you didn’t catch the squeak of a door until a man’s voice interrupted you, forcing you to pull apart, although Bofur’s hold on you remained fast.

“Still can’t keep your hands off each other, can you?” The man, presumably the justice, not that your faulty ale-hazed memory was any help, chuckled. “Newlyweds.”

“Newlyweds,” you agreed, speaking again in unison and gazing into each other’s eyes, your arms reaching to stroke Bofur’s.

“We’re crazy, aren’t we?” Bofur teased.

“Positively drunk on love.”

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit x reader #bofur #bofur x reader #bofur x female reader #female reader #human reader #accidental marriage

165 notes · View notes