#bombur is the best (and easiest) so far

[lonicera-edulis]

Cat memes requests.

[erosofthepen]

Gimlelul

Haha, i have a habit of disappearing because i want to finish a story but feel bad about coming back when it’s not finished. This is something I had an idea for at work, i hope you all enjoy it. It’s kinda dumb but cute too i guess.

Pairing: Kili x Reader

Words: 1700 (an exact number!??)

Warnings: None. Unless cheesy Kili is a warning.

The journey, however repetitive and boring it could be, did offer some enjoyment for you. Most of this enjoyment sourced from the young Prince Kili.

In the three months since the journey had begun, you and the Prince had developed a habit of stargazing each night, just after dinner, but before first watch. It never failed to brighten even the most dull of times. You would both make up new patterns and constellations in the sky, and your favorite so far was ‘Thorin’s Stompy Boot’, which had a base in the Lyre and built into… well the name is pretty self explanatory.

However, the dullness of the journey vanished in the span of one night, and it was rather difficult to fit in the time to stargaze. Between the three trolls who almost ate the whole company, the strange brown wizard who appeared to be on an overconsumption of… magic mushrooms, the incredibly tiring and terrifying chase by wargs and orcs, and arriving in the valley of the elves, it had been next to impossible to spend time with Kili to look at the stars.

Today was the third night in Rivendell, and while you thought it to be the most peaceful and safe place in all of Middle Earth, Thorin thought otherwise, and warned against falling into a state of security. On this particular night, Balin, Bilbo, Gandalf, and the King himself had gone off somewhere, and Thorin had left strict orders for the company to stick together and not stray away. These orders, of course, were ignored.

Bombur had left for the kitchens quite some time ago, ‘for provisions’, and it did not appear that he would be back anytime soon. Ori (with the help of Nori), had snuck off into one of the elven libraries, and you expected him to be there for quite some time. Bifur had left almost the second after Thorin, and there was no sign of him anywhere. Not that you were worried. Fili and Kili had disappeared as well, and there wasn’t a clue of where they had gone off too. Dwalin, ever the loyal warrior, stood watch over camp, on the lookout for spying elves.

You were by the fire, fiddling with the straps on your boot. The blasted buckle kept coming loose, and you were determined to fix it before departing from this beautiful valley. Unfortunately, several grueling minutes later, you had sighed and resolved to ask Bifur for help when he returned from wherever he was.

“Having trouble, my lady?” You looked up to see that Fili and Kili had returned, and the younger of the two had apparently been watching you fight a losing battle with your boot straps.

“Aye, my prince. But I reckon Bifur can aid me when he returns.”

“And why Bifur?” He asked, “Am I not handy enough to aid you in your time of need?”

“Ha. I think not, as you struggle with even buckling your own boots in the morning.”

Kili laughed and came to sit down beside you, taking the boot from your hand and eyeing the trouble.

“You know,” He said, “all you have to do is straighten out the metal here, and it would be fine. Also might be a good idea to get the rust gone.”

“I know that much,” You replied, reaching for your boot back. But Kili pulled away, now grasping the buckle in his hand.

“I could fix it now, if you’d like.” he offered, eyes still glued to the boot strap.

“It’s alright Kili--”

But the prince had already started working the metal with his bare hands, twisting the iron back into place by dwarven strength alone. Once he was satisfied, he fiddled with it, making sure it worked properly.

“There you go (Y/N), should be good as new, except the rust. We’ll get that cleaned up on the ‘morrow.” He said, handing you back your boot.

“Thanks, I owe you.”

“Nonsense, it was nothing,” he replied, “But how about we take it for a test walk? Just to make sure it’s back to normal?” without waiting for a reply, he stood and offered his hand. You grinned and quickly got your boots on before taking his hand and getting up.

“Oi, where are you two going?” Dwalin called.

“Not far, we’ll be back shortly!” Kili said, quickly grasping your hand and hurrying along before Dwalin could object.

The two of you walked for quite some time, much farther than Dwalin would approve of, but it was nice to finally spend some time with Kili. You talked of the chaotic ventures of the past few days, and Kili joked that it had been the only exciting thing to happen so far.

“I mean, we’re going to a mountain with a dragon. You’d think there would be more of a thrill, wouldn’t you?

“You speak too much Kili. Getting shoved into sacks by trolls was enough excitement to last a lifetime. The orc pack was just terrifying. I’m perfectly content with the journey to continue on as normal from here on out, without any more surprises happening.”

“Oh, come now (Y/N), where’s the fun in that? As I recall, you were saying that the routine of the journey was incredibly boring just last week.”

“That was before the trolls, Kili. And you best be cautious, a dragon, however far off, is not something to treat as a mere adventure. It’s going to be very dangerous.”

Kili sighed and reluctantly nodded.

“I know, but still--” The young prince stopped quite suddenly and looked around.

“Kili?” you asked.

“There’s a place Fili and I found, I’m just trying to remember if we already passed it or not…” He looked around again, before backtracking a few steps. Then he seemed to remember, and looked up for a moment.

“Alright, follow me, it’s a bit off the path, but it’s worth it. Promise.”

Despite the warnings in your mind, you followed Kili up a rocky slope, occasionally needing his assistance with some of the trickier parts. You climbed a good fifteen minutes before he stopped and turned sideways. Before setting off, he looked back at you and grabbed your hand.

“It can be a bit slippery from here on, so be careful.”

Now you could see what you supposed his destination was. A rocky ledge stood a few meters away, high above the rest of the valley. The Prince led you along the entire way.

Eventually, you reached the ledge and were able to gaze around. It was stunning, to say the least. Rivendell looked even more beautiful at night than it did during the day, with lanterns and candles glowing about the houses and courtyards. Moonlight reflected off of fountains and roofs, and filtered through leaves to create patterns on the ground below. The faint sound of elven flutes and harps rang throughout the air, blending beautifully with waterfalls around the valley, and you soon realized that the waterfalls were instruments in the song too.

You also realized that Kili had not released his hold on your hand, but you weren’t going to bring that up in fear that he might stop.

“Nice view, is it not?” he asked.

“That’s a bit of an understatement.”

He flashed you a smile before taking a seat on the stone, pulling you down to sit beside him.

“I figured this would be a lovely place for stargazing, Gimlelul.”

You felt like you should know what that word meant, but it had been long since you had had to converse in dwarvish beyond simple phrases. But the young prince continued on before you could give it much thought.

“The stars seem so much brighter here, don’t they? And much more numerous.”

You nodded in agreement. “They do indeed. It’s almost impossible to pick out a single star with how many there are.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” Kili replied, a smirk spreading across his face.

“I don’t think so. Too many stars to find a constellation.”

“Well, how about something easy then. What about the brightest star? Find that.”

You turned your gaze upwards, searching in vain for the North Star. The longer you looked up, the brighter all the stars seemed. After a few minutes of  straining your eyes, you groaned and turned to Kili.

“It’s impossible. My eyes hurt from staring at the stars.”

Kili grinned.

“You admit defeat?”

“If only to save my poor eyes.”

“Well, you really are bad at this aren’t you? The brightest star is the easiest thing to find, see?”

Frustrated, you turned your gaze back to the heavens and searched again.

“You can’t possibly pick out the North Star from here, Kili. There’s just far too many of them.”

“Who said anything about the North Star? I asked for the brightest star.”

“The North Star is the brightest Star, you idiot! That’s the most basic knowledge anyone can have!”

“Ah, but you’re wrong. While the North Star is the brightest star in the sky, the brightest star in existence is sitting right in front of me.”

You blinked at him for a moment, before groaning.

“Oh come on Kili,”

“No, I'm serious! You are the brightest star in the whole of Middle Earth.”

You gave him a look, but smiled all the same.

“That’s… ridiculous.”

“You don’t like it? It seemed fitting for you. You know, I can see starlight in your eyes all the time? Doesn’t matter what time of day, there’s always stars that glitter in your eyes. It’s incredibly distracting.”

At this point, what could a person do but get flustered, as a prince said all these lovely things to them.

“Kili, what are you saying, exactly?”

“Is it not obvious, Gimlelul?”

There was that word again. The meaning seemed to be right on the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t place it. Suddenly, Kili drew much nearer, and placed a kiss on your temple.

“Men Iananubukhs me,” He whispered. “My brightest star.”

‘Oh’, you thought. ‘Right. That’s what it means.’

The two of you spent much of the night up on the ledge, Only coming down when the stars started disappearing to make way for the sun.

Gimlelul: My brightest/glittering star

Men Iananubukhs me: I love you

[samayla]

Gemini Character Sketches

I wrote this instead of writing an actual scene today, but it was so much fun I decided to share it anyway. Under the cut because it's kinda long (there are a lot of characters, after all).

Bilbo - A hopeless romantic at heart, though it’s been buried by a whole lot of stuffy, proper Baggins nonsense over the years. He’s far too concerned with what everyone says and thinks about him and his family, and that comes from growing up in a small town. His mother was a wild wanderer, and his father doted on her. When she died, Bungo was devastated and scarcely spoke of her. Bilbo misattributed that to her Tookishness because of the nasty gossip that began flying thick and fast as soon as Belladonna wasn’t around to defend herself. He decided to be "proper" because proper hobbits seemed happier. Would do anything for his sister, even save her from herself, if he was able. Like his father before him, he does not tolerate slander of Bella’s reputation within his earshot, but just because he doesn’t hear it, doesn’t mean it’s stopped. Quite the opposite in fact. But all Bilbo can see is his sister seemingly determined to ruin herself.

Bella - Has always felt like an outsider, even in her own family. With either a poisonous weed or her disgrace of a mother as a namesake, Bella took her father’s withdrawal after her mother’s death as a declaration of war. The rumors about Belladonna’s misadventures and shenanigans were easiest to link to Bella, who is the spitting image of her mother. Everyone seemed to be just waiting for her to screw up, so she decides she might as well give them their money’s worth. She is fierce and reckless, almost to the point of self-destruction. Guarded among the Hobbiton hobbits, she is almost achingly open to outsiders, desperate for some sort of validation, some indication that she might fit somewhere in the world. She spends a great deal of time traveling in the Shire (and beyond it, on the sly), and most of that time either on her own or with her Took relatives. She always comes home to Bilbo though. She can see how he worries about her, and she would spare him what she could of that.

Gandalf - Means well, but he tends toward self-doubt. He’ll launch a grand master plot with the Big Picture in mind, only to remember that he actually likes all these little moving parts he’s wrangled into it, and they have dreams and plans and feelings of their own, and what if they get hurt, oh no, what have I done? This is not a failing, but a strength, but with Saruman looking down his nose at him all the time, he has a hard time seeing that. He takes comfort in the kindness shown by these people he’s drawn together. It’s enough to give him hope that it’ll all turn out in the end.

Thorin - Terrified of the madness in his line, but determined to face it. Views his fear as cowardly, so he feels like he must put himself in this position to test himself against the madness in order to prove he is stronger. Prove he is fit to rule. He has been there for his father and grandfather as they fell to the madness, knows what it looks like, and it is the stuff of his nightmares. He is terrified, but he will do this for his people because they deserve the best ruler.

Fili - Caught between childhood and adulthood. “The time has come to put aside childish things.” But has it really? Or is he growing up too harshly and too fast? He sees and takes on responsibility for so many things. Worries about so many things. But Kili always brings him back. Thorin gives him something to aspire to. But he hasn’t got his uncle’s all-consuming fear to provide that vicious undercurrent to his temper. He still loves life too much to be needlessly cruel. He is at his heart kind and gentle and fair. He will be a great ruler, though he does not see it yet.

Kili - The exuberant youth. Like a lab puppy. Everything is bright and shiny and new, and he is definitely the one who tries things just to see what happens. He loves discovery. He’s lived a relatively sheltered life in the Blue Mountains, born at the tail end of the Wandering Years. He has only a few travels to draw on, and those mostly just taught him how big the world must be, how full of things to discover.

Dwalin - Smarter than he thinks he is. Has been treated like a big, dumb brute for so long and by so many people that he’s come to believe it of himself too. Loyal to Thorin until the end because Thorin has always treated him as a friend, a confidante, an equal. To Dwalin, that’s what greatness is.

Balin - The responsible one. A curious mix of father-figure and older brother to both Thorin and Dwalin. He remembers when Thorin had Kili’s zest for life. Fears the princes will grow up too quickly just like Thorin. He fears the dragon sickness, just like Thorin, but he hopes the princes will help keep him anchored against it. A grim sacrifice… He sees everything, is the most elvish of the dwarves in that observation and careful weighing of options.

Ori - Older than she looks, but her soft manner, baggy, handmade clothes, and unkempt braids don’t help. There is just always something else to be doing. She doesn’t have the patience or the interest to do her hair up or dress in something more form-fitting. She writes and draws to capture moments, and then she knits and crochets to quiet her body enough that she can think about them. And she can sell those items as well for a little extra cash, which is nice. “Still waters run deep.” Very introspective and analytical. She’s another one who sees and understands a great deal more than she lets on. She pushes herself in earning her mastery in order to help her family. It’s only a matter of time, after all, before Nori gets into more trouble than she can handle, or Dori works herself to death.

Dori - Grew up far too fast after the death of her brother, but she hasn’t let it make her bitter. She has clawed and fought for every single thing her family has, working several jobs to make sure her sisters have food on the table and clothes on their backs. Ori’s schooling was a massive expense, but she does not grudge her one bit of it. Rather, she sees it as a mark of how far they’ve come, that Ori can pursue art and writing, instead of simple survival. Is made anxious by the chaotic, uncontrollable, often cruel world around her, so she structures her life around little rituals — doing her hair, making tea, etc — and uses them like tent poles, with all the rest of the mess of the world draped high and distant in between.

Nori - Grew up far too fast, faster than even Dori knows, and has become rather jaded. She embraces the chaos of the world, draws it in close, and slits its throat before it can slit hers. Would die for her sisters. Annoys Dori on purpose, because if she’s got the energy to cluck and fuss at Nori, then the rest of her life must be in pretty good shape. It’s when she stops fussing that Nori worries. Isn’t exactly clear on how she ended up with Bofur, but she’d die for him too. Tolerates Thorin and Dwalin only so long as their plans align with hers for keeping her sisters safe and happy.

Oin - Not as hard of hearing as he pretends. Quite possibly the smartest of the company, he’s figured out that people talk more freely and truthfully when they think he can’t hear. It is a boon in politics as well as his work as a healer. “I believe so that I may understand.” Sees science and faith as two sides of the same coin, and uses both in his work.

Gloin - Proud to a fault, and willing to fight to the death to defend his honor. It makes him hard to be around, but once you’re in with Gloin, his pride extends to you too. Woe to the person who insults him or his friends. Understands the real value of money - as in it means nothing if you’ve no one to share it with, and less than that if you’re dead - and so he spends and invests freely. But not foolishly. A shrewd businessman, he puts great stock in people’s reputations and intentions, as well as his brother’s divining. Least likely of all the dwarves to fall to gold sickness.

Bifur - A clever problem-solver at heart, he turned to toy-making after his injury because no adults could see past it. They either wrote him off as a waste of time, or humored him as if he were some trained animal doing a particularly clever trick. Children, though… they play it straight. They are honest and open, and the amazing toys he makes with his considerable skills make them happy. Not to mention, they put food on the table for his cousins, who’ve taken him into their lives, in spite of the expense of his continued treatment. He has also created his own style of Iglishmêk to cope with the practical limitations of the original. His version allows for more nuance and feeling and speed. Only Oin and his cousins can understand it fluently, but the other dwarves in the company know at least standard Iglishmêk, even if most of them are a little slow at it.

Bofur - Hardworking and earnest, with a wicked sense of humor. He says he’s along on the quest for the free beer, but really it’s for Nori and a chance at a better life. He’s been a poor miner for his whole life, like his father before him, but he doesn’t want to die a miner. He isn’t sure what he wants, but out in the world is as good a place as any to find it. And if he can help keep Nori’s head on straight, so much the better.

Bombur - A domestic god, he can make just about anywhere feel at least a little like home. Joined up following the adorably earnest thought that, “Hey, the Lonely Mountain will probably need a bit of sprucing up, and I’m pretty good at that.” The most hobbit-like of the dwarves, but will defend his people to the death, no matter how ill-matched the battle, like a fluffy house cat defending its Person from a doberman. Doesn’t mind staying out of the spotlight. Like the Greek goddess Hestia, quietly goes about his business, secure in the knowledge that it is vitally important in its own quiet way.

[milesofkeeffe]

An Unexpected Reunion

Tauriel and Kili stop in the Shire for their honeymoon and pay a visit to a dear friend.

This was a beautiful evening, there was absolutely no doubt in Bilbo’s mind. Though the sun was down, the fragrance of warm grass and blossoms still drifted gently through the windows that opened out on the garden. Amidst the sound of cricket song, conversation punctuated by merry laughter carried up from the road below as two last walkers made their way home in the fading glow of the sunset. Bilbo smiled; he liked the sound of people enjoying themselves.

He was just preparing a pot of floral herb tea when he realized that the voices had come nearer, indeed, seemed to have stopped at his front door. He hadn’t been expecting callers, though of course that sort of thing flustered him rather less than it once would have. As he was making his way down the entrance hall, whoever it was rapped on the door.

“I know he said not to knock, but I have to use what few manners I have,” Bilbo heard someone say. He recognized that voice, though he had not heard it in several years. One of the young dwarf princes, Fíli, or was it Kíli? To his surprise, there came an answering murmur of female laughter. One of the Bracegirdle lasses from down the lane, taken by a likely stranger asking the way? For all of their dwarvish oddness, Bilbo imagined Thorin’s nephews would have little trouble winning the interest of even some shy hobbit maid.

He opened the door, and the dark-haired prince—Kíli, it was—stood grinning at him, and beside the young dwarf was someone who surely was no hobbit lass: she stood head and shoulders over Kíli, and long, unbound red hair fell down about her slim, green-clad figure. Bilbo knew her for the elf who had fought beside Thorin and his nephews on Ravenhill. He had wondered back then if there was anything between her and Kíli, and was not surprised to find now that his inkling had been right.

“Bilbo!” Kíli cried, catching the hobbit to him in an enthusiastic, if somewhat ungentle, hug. “I suppose you never expected to see us again so soon.”

As Kíli let him go, Bilbo noted that the lad had gained a new scar on his cheek and braids in his hair since their last meeting.

“No, I— That is—” He cleared his throat, remembering what was more important than whatever he had or hadn’t been expecting. “Welcome! Do come in.” Bilbo stepped back to make them room.

Kíli caught the elf woman’s hand and drew her forward. “Tauriel, this is my friend Mr. Bilbo Boggins,” he said with a wink to Bilbo.

Tauriel cast the dwarf a doubtful look. “You’ve told me it was Baggins all this while.”

“It is,” said Bilbo, chuckling at the memory of the first time this young dwarf had stood on his doorstep. “Really, you shouldn’t believe everything he says.”

“Oh, I know,” she returned, flashing a mischievous look at the dwarf, and Bilbo knew then without a doubt that she was quite in love with Kíli. Then turning back to Bilbo, she swept a graceful bow. “Mae govannen.”

“And well met to you,” the hobbit returned. “Now, please come in. I was just making some tea.”

Bilbo led them into the parlor and invited them to sit down, while he went for two more teacups and extra helpings of shortbread and fruit jellies. He knew firsthand about the appetites of both dwarves and elves—he remembered several very lavish feasts from his stay in Mirkwood, though he’d never been bold enough to take more than the easiest, peripheral offerings for his own burgled meals.

Once he’d poured tea and seen that his guests had helped themselves to the sweets, Bilbo said, “I needn’t ask why you’re here. It’s plain you’ve eloped.” Indeed, he felt rather clever for having noticed their wedding rings as he had handed them their tea. There would be no awkwardness about asking whether or not they needed separate rooms for the night, thank goodness.

Kíli laughed heartily, his head thrown back, and Bilbo was gladdened to see that the hardships of the quest and a war had not changed him from the bright-eyed, carefree young fellow who’d last sat in this room.

“We had a proper royal wedding before we left,” the young dwarf explained.

Bilbo very nearly splashed his tea. “Oh, so Thorin, he—” He had believed the dwarf king had a good many years left; it was a shock to find he’d been wrong. But Kíli would never have been permitted such a wedding unless his brother were king. “I’m sorry, Kíli. Your uncle was my frie—” he began, his voice harsh with unfeigned grief, then stopped at Kíli’s own confused look.

“Uncle is quite well,” he said, brows knitted in confusion. “He sends you this.” And he produced a letter from his coat and held it forth.

Yes, that was certainly Thorin’s hand—Bilbo recognized it from his burglar’s contract—as well as Thorin’s seal.

“I’m sorry; I thought that, well.” He felt his cheeks flush. “It’s just that she’s, ah, and your uncle didn’t— Right.” He nodded and stuffed a slice of shortbread in his mouth before he said anything else foolish.

Tauriel’s mirth, which had been contained till now, burst out in bright peals of laughter. “You thought Thorin would be dead before he saw Kíli marry an elf.”

“Yes,” Bilbo admitted, mouth full of shortbread. He had seen the heated confrontation between Thorin and the Elvenking after their capture in Mirkwood and found it quite impossible to imagine the same dwarf would permit his nephew to celebrate a wedding to one of Thranduil’s people.

“Thorin and I had quite a row when he found out about us, and I very nearly did elope with Tauriel: I packed my satchel and was gone most of a day before I realized running wouldn’t solve anything. But Thorin came around in the end.”

Bilbo chuckled. “Well, he did change his mind about me. What was it he said? I looked more like a grocer than a burglar.”

Kíli smiled, evidently remembering. “You’ll never guess who else was at the wedding.”

“Gandalf?”

The dwarf shook his head, grinning.

“Radagast.” Didn’t the odd fellow live under the eaves of Mirkwood?

“No.”

“Bard.”

“Well, yes, he was there with his family,” Kíli admitted, “But that’s hardly surprising after Tauriel saved his children from a bunch of orcs.”

“Hmm... Elrond?” The lordly and ancient half-elf seemed just the sort one ought to have to a wedding.

“Not he,” Tauriel returned, equally amused as her husband.

“What about the elf prince, the one who—” Bilbo caught himself just in time. He had been about to say, the one who the king said admired you, but then he would have been forced to an awkward confession of having eavesdropped on a private conversation while in the Elvenking’s palace.

“Not Legolas, no. He was too far to come.”

“Beorn, then.” Bilbo had not supposed the solitary shapeshifter was one for large gatherings, but perhaps he had taken an interest in the lives of the dwarves he had aided more than once.

Kíli shook his head once more.

“Well, then who— Wait. Surely not Thranduil.”

“He is my guardian.” The elf smiled teasingly. “We couldn’t forget him.”

“Bless me!” Bilbo took a long, slow swallow of tea. “I think you had better tell the story from the beginning for me.”

The young couple happily did so, taking turns and interrupting one another to add a detail or, just as often, to tease the other fondly for something said. They were an utterly charming pair, lively and artless with youth, and as their story drew on, Bilbo felt very grateful that they had overcome Thorin’s prejudice and the demands of politics to be together. They were just the sort of people who made others happy with their presence, and separating them would have denied a blessing to those beyond themselves.

“I wish you could have come to the wedding,” Kíli was saying now. “So many of our friends were there. And, oh, you should have seen her. She was like a dream, far too beautiful to belong in this world. I think I’m dreaming yet.” He leaned close and kissed her cheek once.

Instead of being shocked by such an open display of affection, Bilbo merely smiled.

“And you’ve been married how long, now?”

“A year, come June ninth,” Tauriel said.

“Aha! That’s barely a fortnight away! We must have a feast for your anniversary.”

“Thank you, Bilbo; we would like that.”

“And now tell me, how are all our friends? Is Bifur still speaking Common again?”

And so they had finished the rest of the evening (and several more plates of sweets) as Kíli and Tauriel had told how the rest of Bilbo’s companions had spent the years since the quest: how Fíli was marrying soon, and Bombur had a new daughter; of how Bofur and Bifur’s toy business thrived as it never had in Ered Luin; of how Bard had become king of Dale, and Dwalin still terrorized Bain and Tilda (though Tauriel insisted the two acted more from humor than sincerity now).

At last, when everyone was comfortably tired, Bilbo rose. “You must stay with me,” he said as Kíli and Tauriel stood, too. “I won’t hear of anything else.”

When they had gathered their things and followed Bilbo down his hall and into his finest guest room, Bilbo was forced to confront the one oversight in his offer as he stared at what had once been his own parents’ marriage bed. Its handsomely turned wooden frame was quite comfortable by hobbit standards, yet hobbits were precisely what his guests were not.

“I suppose there is one minor inconvenience,” he began apologetically. “Kíli, you aren’t very much taller than a hobbit, but I’m afraid you” —he glanced to Tauriel—“are tall enough for two. You may be more comfortable in your own rooms. If you want, I can put one of you in the second-best room across the hall.”

Kíli laughed. “Don’t trouble about us. We don’t need much space.”

“I’m sure we can make ourselves quite comfortable here,” Tauriel agreed.

Bilbo nodded; he ought not be surprised they did not wish to be separated. “If you need anything in the night, make yourselves at home, or better yet, ask.”

Then he bid them goodnight and went to bed himself.

Enjoyed this little scene? It’s from chapter 3 of my longer fic, Spring After Winter and Sun on the Leaves. Will Kili and Tauriel really fit into that hobbit-sized bed after all? Keep reading to find out!