#dwarven clothing rules

[shurikthereject]

I've been re-reading A Hobbit's Gamble by CQueen on ao3 for the third time now and it had me imagining what Bilbo's clothes would look like if he stayed in Erebor and became Thorin's consort. I decided to create a balance between Hobbit and Dwarvish fashion for these two outfits, one being for the outdoors and the other for indoors. That being the the jacket, waist coast and capri pants mixed with capes and belts. The colour palette also become handy in creating that balance. I mixed Hobbit's bright colours and Durin's blue,which represents his statues in the royal family (This is also Thorin's favourite part of his outfits). It is often discussed how flowers and plants are important to Hobbits and with that I added embroidery of different flowers with meanings that are compatible with Bilbo. The flowers on his head are mostly just a replacement for a crown for day to day. Please comment if I should add something, I love reading your ideas!

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; To Love is To Change (King!Fili x Wife!Reader)

Summary - King Fili, first of his name, has ruled over Erebor for several winters now. Many changes have taken place throughout his reign, the mountain kingdom now flourishing as it had once before, however, the new king never planned for how much he would change alongside the kingdom. Now, the dwarven king is left to ponder what these changes means for himself and his wife. Will she love him as she once did? Or will she loathe these changes?

Warnings - Smut, language, fem!Reader, afab reader, wife!Reader, King Fili AU, everyone lives AU, implied Kili x Tauriel, hinted at Thorin x Bilbo, mentions of weight gain (Fili), slight body image issues (Fili), clothes fitting improperly (Fili), mentions of male genitalia (Fili), implied previous sex, slightly implied past dom!Fili, thick!Fili (I love thick Fili), slightly dom!Fili, size kink, mention of stress eating (Fili, my man needs a break), brief miscommunication, bad anatomy (I tried), oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader), vaginal sex, mention of female genitalia (reader), mention of bodily fluids (both Fili and reader), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), reader squirts, creampie, breeding kink, breeding press, slightly rough!Fili, rough-ish sex, dirty talk (Fili really loves talking to the reader's cunt), slight pain kink (if you squint, maybe), reader calls Fili "my king", Fili calls reader "my queen", some badly used dwarvish (I tried), dwarvish strength (you're telling me they can haul those huge ass statues and not you? lies), Fili just really loves his wife.

Pronouns & POV - She/Her, third-person

Word Count - 6,800+ (I got way too into this)

A/N - This was meant to be a blurb...and somehow I ended up with this long smut with some slight plot, wooo! My bedframe broke while I was in the middle of writing this, so it was delayed for a few days while I got a new bedframe (Fili's dick is so good it breaks bedframes in other realities). You can slightly tell when I started getting writers block, but I pushed through and I hope that this turned out okay. There are a few translations that will put below for reference. Smut below.

Translations - ibinê (my gem), halwûn (sweet one)

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«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

A few winters had passed since the golden-haired dwarf had taken the throne of Erebor. The old king, Thorin, had ruled justly for ten winters before he made the difficult decision to depart from the throne, allowing his heir, Prince Fili, to succeed him.

The shift from old king to new was swift, happening within a matter of weeks rather than the typical months it would take. The coronation went with little argument, though the air was bittersweet as the old king placed his crown upon the new's head. His forehead softly pressed against the new's as the new rose to his feet, a soft smile on the old king's lips as he patted the now king's back. "May your reign be long and just." The old king whispered to his nephew, pulling away as he squeezed his shoulder as many rejoiced for the new king.

The old king did not linger within the lands of Erebor for long, as shortly after King Fili was crowned, Thorin departed from the Misty Mountains—deciding to take up an offer that a familiar hobbit had once offered to him a decade ago, so, he headed west.

With the old king gone, King Fili ruled with a firm grasp. The new king was not unfair, no, he was just in his actions. All he did was for the people, ensuring that they did not go without, yet kept a tight enough grasp on what they received to ensure that greed would not roam rampant within the hearts of the mountains once again. However, there was only so much that could be done to prevent greed from tainting the hearts of dwarves and men.

Throughout the new king's reign, the lands of the Misty Mountains continued to flourish under his guidance. Following in the steps of his uncle, he continued to lead the people of Erebor back to the state it once was before the destruction of Smaug the Terrible. Although the change of Erebor had been a smooth and welcomed one; there was a change the golden-haired king had not accounted for—the changing of himself.

The new king was aware that his mind would mature throughout his rule, that he would no longer have the time, nor the desire, to pull the parks that he had once done years prior with his younger brother—who somehow still managed to find the time to pull such foolish jests despite being a new father to a dwelfing. Yet, he was not prepared for the changes that had taken place within his physical form.

It was not as if the new king had been keeping up with his health nor his appearance, he rarely had time to get proper sleep these days let alone having the luxury of spending a few moments grooming himself before a mirror. However, he had not felt the change until this week.

As he sat upon the firm, wooden chair before the long oak desk that held various parchments, he could not help but notice how much softer his once-toned body felt. The fat upon his stomach folded slightly, creating rolls that spilled over the top of his trousers and left impressions of said fat within his tunic. The sensation made the dwarf pause as he shifted in his seat, not out of discomfort, but rather confusion.

It was not a surprise that the new king's body had changed, becoming softer with the time he had spent apart from the training grounds he once frequented as he now spent his days behind the old wooden desk to handle various scrolls. Scrolls which left him tense with stress, feeling as if there would never be an end to the massive mountain of parchments that towered in front of him, seeming to grow larger as the days passed.

Though the new king would love to take a few moments to go back to the training grounds, to slap around a training dummy or tussle with a fellow warrior once more, he rarely had the time to do anything other than handling his kingly duties. Even eating at the same table as his wife was a luxury these days.

He would shovel down whatever meal was placed upon his desk, requesting an even larger portion whenever a particularly headache-inducing scroll fell into his grasp.

However, it did not fully down upon the new king how much he had changed until this morrow. He stood in his private chambers, struggling to slide his trousers past his rounded arse. He shimmied, shook, and even jumped slightly as he attempted to tug the fabric above his plump flesh but to no avail.

His thick, golden brows furrowed as he looked down at his trousers, wondering if these trousers truly were the size his tailors claimed they were or if his arse had truly ballooned so quickly within a month's time.

After another tugged attempt to pull the trousers up, he let out a low sigh. He let the fabric fall onto the cold, stone floor with a swish. The soft pat of his bare feet echoed throughout the room as he approached the full-length mirror before his bed; a mirror crafted specifically for his wife. His wife adored fashion, it was a fact all within the Misty Mountains knew well as she was never seen in the same gown twice without a new embellishment or accessory to adorn it. It was what had first drawn the dwarf to her, her sense of dress had caught his eye and left him intrigued to know more of her.

Fili adored watching her try the newest styles or even gowns she crafted herself, loving how her face would light up in the reflection as she tried various clothes on. The full-length mirror allowed them to view the designs in all their glory before he turned the once lovely clothes into a pile of shredded cloth on the floor.

But instead of the reflection of your beaming face staring back at him, the mirror greeted him with the parallel of his aged face. His once bright, sapphire eyes were now dimmed with tiredness. A purple-ish hue tinted the flesh under his eyes, a mark from the various nights he had spent awake dealing with the nonsense from other kings, rather than in the warmed embrace of his wife. The skin of his face had been carved with new lines and wrinkles, most resting upon his forehead from the weight of his brow which was furrowed more often than not these days, typically in confusion or annoyance over the written words of others.

The blonde hue of his beard was now streaked with white, as was the golden mane upon his head which had grown rather untamed in style and length—as was the long hair that grew from his upper lip and chin.

His gaze slowly shifted away from the reflection of his face, drifting down to examine his limbs. The muscles of his body had been sheathed beneath a layer of fat, creating a fuller, more rounded appearance. They had not completely vanished, the muscles constricted and bulged as he flexed in front of the reflective piece of glass. His chest appeared softer, though the muscles still rested behind the layer of fat, it seemed more softly crafted than how chiseled it had once appeared—the perfect spot for his beloved wife to rest her head. He paused for a moment to admire how much thicker and fuller his arms grew. The weight of his arms had become a tad heavier than before, but that was all the much better to keep his wife pinned down with.

However, where the roundness affected his figure most was in his middle, his stomach.

Though the dwarf had never had a completely flattened stomach, it now protruded more outwards than before. The curve within his figure made his head tilt to the side as he examined his abdomen, placing his calloused hands upon the roundness as he wondered when his belly began to mirror his father's.

The line his gaze followed began to drift even lower, trailing down the path of hair that led to his manhood. The hair was overgrown, an endless bush of blonde which swarmed around the base of his cock—how long had it been since he had last groomed himself properly? It was not as if he was lacking entirely, he ensured to bathe himself and dawn new clothes each day regardless of how exhausted he was as that was expected of him as king. However, the new king would admit that he had neglected the trimming aspect of grooming since he had taken the throne.

His gaze continued to trail down from the curled sea of blonde, drifting down onto his cock. It was hard to miss how the gain of weight had caused the girth of his cock to increase. It appeared thicker, fatter than normal—his cock twitched slightly as his mind wandered for a brief moment, thinking of the new ways his fattened cock would stretch his wife and how snug of an embrace her cunt would give him.

The hue of his eyes darkened in lust as he took in a deep breath from his nose, calming himself for a moment before his gaze continued to wander down to his legs. His thighs had grown much thicker—an ample tool for his beloved wife to claw at as he pounded into her. And his calves had grown a bit larger, though to dwarves this was not something too worthy of note. The size of a dwarf's calves are arguably far more sizeable than that of men and elves, which always made it a pain for the golden-haired dwarf to find new trousers upon his previous journey.

As his gaze continued to bore into the mirrored image of his body, he could not deny the changes before him. And for the first time in a long time, the heat of doubt began to spread from the center of his sturdy chest.

The new king's mind wandered, wondering what his wife's opinion of his changed figure would be. Would she love these changes? Or perhaps, would she yearn for his old figure? His thick, golden brows furrowed at the thought as the wrinkles on his forehead deepened.

Within his heart, he knew these thoughts were foolish and held no true weight, yet the voice of insecurity was loud. A voice which boomed deep within him, shouting lies to him of how his wife would find him repulsive as he was no longer the dwarf she had once wed. A flood of insecurities came rushing back to him, a flood he hadn't felt since the first time he locked eyes with his wife as if her presence alone was enough to build the dam that halted the flow.

Before the rushing stream of insecurity could pull the new king into its depths, the sudden soft pressure of warm hands met his chest, jolting him back to reality.

"Good morning, handsome." The purr of your sleep-ridden voice made the tension within his muscles ease, as the sharpness his gaze once held softened the moment he caught a glimpse of your peaceful, still sleepy, face reflecting at him in the mirror.

"Ah, ibinê," He breathed, a calloused hand moved up from the roundness of his belly and pressed against yours, covering both of yours with ease as they sat upon his chest. "did I wake you? I should've blown out the candle as I dressed." The slow spiral of regret came to a halt as the beautiful melody of your laughter danced throughout the air, your chest vibrating against his back in amusement at his worry.

"Please, I should be thanking you." You spoke, as the weight of your chin rested upon his sturdy shoulder for a moment before it turned slightly, facing the crook of his neck as you softly pressed your plump lips against it. A shiver roamed down the king's spine at the sensation, one he had almost forgotten, yet his body did not—the flow of blood began to shift paths within the dwarf, fixating on the trail of his cock as it hardened slightly from the soft caress of your lips.

"It has been far too long since we have been up at the same hour. And I must admit, I was enjoying the view I awoke to." The words escaped your lips in a purr as one of your hands managed to slip out from his calloused grasp, the free hand now sliding down to his stomach, slipping even lower—nearing the pelvis, the tips of your fingers lightly grazing the roughness of the curled, golden bush—before it began the slow glide back up. A pleased exhale escaped your nostrils, a gentle hum vibrating against the king's neck as your weight leaned into it.

"You were?" He questioned, the pitch of his voice rose ever-so-slightly as he spoke, something that had only happened a handful of times to him yet only arose when he was doubtful. "Yes." The word left your lips in a rush, as if it were the most obvious and natural thing in the world, both known and unknown.

"But, I uh..." The words stalled in his throat, his hesitation making them cling to his tongue before he forced them out. "I have changed." He spoke sheepishly, the volume of his voice no higher than a whisper as his gaze shifted away from yours, lowering to meet the sight of the stone floor beneath his feet. Feet which also appeared slightly wider due to the increase of his mass—perhaps that is why his feet ached so much these days.

"So?" You questioned, a brow rose at his statement as your free hand continued its ministrations upon his figure. "As have I, Fili. I no longer hold the same figure as the woman you first met, nor do I hold the same figure I had a month prior, but does that mean you love me less?"

The question quickly made the dwarf's head jerk up, the weight of his body shifting as he turned to you. "No." He answered quickly, the warmth of his hand left yours before it found its way to the side of your face. Encasing it with ease as he gazed upon you as if you were the most precious jewel within his collection.

"I think you are the most beautiful woman to walk the earth, ibinê," The words were tender, spoken in a hushed tone as if they were the most important thing to be uttered. "you are like a goddess to me, fuck, you are my goddess, Y/N." He spoke, the gaze his eyes held shifted from self-hatred into one of pure, undevoted love as he continued to gaze upon your face. One that had experienced equal change since his reign. "I am the mere dwarf who is allowed to worship you, the one you have foolishly honored with the title of husband." He continued, the corners of his lips lifting into a smile as he felt the weight of your head shift slightly, turning inwards to place a kiss upon the calloused skin of his palm.

"Then, listen to me when I tell you that my love for you has never wavered," The gaze of your eyes met his as the softness of your hand departed from his chest, swiftly making its way to rest upon the one that cradled the side of your face so tenderly—the other still roamed the front of his figure freely. "not once. It has only grown for you, my king." The assurance of your words lifted a weight off the king's shoulders, one he had not realized he had been carrying all this time.

"But, there have been whispers of your displeasure." His voice was soft, lingering with doubt as the heat within his chest refused to be extinguished. A stubborn flame you had dealt with many times as well. "Displeasure towards the toll these foolish papers have been taking on you, halwûn." The tenderness in your tone acted like water drenching a raging fire, finally snuffing out the remaining doubt within the dwarf.

"Oh." The word left his lips in a relieved breath, his shoulder drooped as his gaze continued to soften. "I, uh, I had not considered that..." His words trailed off, a soft heat flooding beneath the flesh of his cheeks to the tips of his ears as a soft chuckle rumbled from the center of his chest.

"I see that." A soft laugh escaped your lips as your hand continued to freely roam his figure, now moving in slow circles as it slowly drifted lower, no longer rising back to his chest. "And, I see that you haven't considered that I enjoy this change." Your words made Fili freeze as if a bucket of ice water had been thrown upon him. His eyes widened, almost in a comical manner, as the gears that had been worn down from prior nonsense slowly began to turn within his head.

"You like this?" He questioned, a thick brow raised as his gaze bore into you, seeking out any sign of deception or trickery yet he found nothing, "Like? Fili, I find it incredibly arousing." The purr vibrated against his palm as you pressed another kiss into it, furthering the heat that burned within his cheeks as this new information slowly sunk in for the once insecure dwarf.

"Oh." The word left his lips in a husky breath, a mixture of relief and desire dancing within the singular word as the blood within his body continued to shift route—following the trail to his cock, which rose to life as much as it could, yet it still drooped slightly due to the weight of it. A new, delicious weight.

"You know, I have no meeting scheduled until noon." He spoke, slowly closing the distance between the two of you. The light within his sapphire eyes returned, sparkling with glints of lust as the heat of his aroused breath grazed against the exposed skin that peeked out from your sleeping gown. The corners of your plump lips rose into a grin, a similar sparkle catching within your own gemstone-colored eyes as your gaze met that of your dwarvish husband's. "Then allow me to aid you in passing the time." You purred, the heat of your hand left his body before it met your other around his hand, tugging at it slightly as you led him back to the large bed. A bed that had not been defiled in quite some time.

──────

Little time was wasted between the moment your plump rump sat upon the silken sheets and the moment that the dwarven king tore open the front of your sleep gown—the cold winter air nipping at your exposed flesh, causing the buds of your nipples to harden beneath its chilled caress. The dwarven king eagerly tossed aside the shredded cloth before he knelt on his knees before you, positioning himself between the soft embrace of your thighs. His calloused hands tugged you closer to the edge of the bed, half of your arse hanging over it as he hoisted up your legs onto his shoulders.

"Gods..." The word left his lips in a hungry, almost breathless, tone as his sapphire gaze bore into your cunt. The corners of his mouth dampened with drool as the light within his eyes dimmed, a look of pure lust spreading upon his face as he looked at the heavenly flesh he was about to feast upon. "It's a shame we've been kept apart, isn't it, princess?" He practically cooed, though you knew it wasn't you he was asking. It was your cunt.

The dwarven king adored speaking to your cunt, talking to it as if it could answer him—which he often insisted it could, either through the fluttering of inner walls or the squelching of pleasure as he fucked it.

"Look at you, drooling all pretty for me." The king continued to coo to the dripping hole. The rough caress of his calloused fingers lightly grazing up and down your dampened folds caused your body to jerk back a bit, sensitive to the sensation after so long without it. "Shh, shh. Stay right there." A calloused hand tightened around the flesh of your hips, tugging you closer to your face allowing your feet to dangle onto his back.

"Fili—" Before you could utter anything other than his name, he delved between your legs. The prickle of his beard caressed your inner thighs, as the caress of his warm, wet tongue began to lap up the entirety of your cunt. A gasped-out moan fell from your lips, your back arching slightly as if attempting to sink your cunt further into your mouth, yet he kept his grasp upon your hip firm.

"Shh, don't interrupt, ibinê." His words vibrated against your sensitive flesh, pausing for a moment as he slowly lapped up your cunt from the dripping entrance to your sensitive bundle of nerves. "I am having a conversation here." The words were light, twinging with playful scolding as he returned to slowly lapping up your wetness. His tongue delved into your folds, seeking out your heavenly juices like a thirsting man seeking water.

"She can be so rude, can't she?" He cooed to your cunt, the tips of his calloused fingers slowly traced the entrance of your leaking cunt. It clenched around air, allowing more of that oh-so-sweet nectar to trickle out. "So rude." He continued to coo, his thin lips now turned down in a sympathetic pout as the tips of his fingers continued to trace the dripping hole.

Your gemstone-colored eyes looped around their sockets at Fili's dramatics as your patience began to wane thin. "Fili." His name left your lips in a warning tone, showing if he did not stop now then sex was off the table—and all other surfaces.

The heat of his breath caressed your sensitive flesh as his chest rumbled with a deep chuckle. The soft scratch of his beard sliding up and down tickled against your inner thighs as he nodded his head.

"As you wish, my queen." He spoke, or rather purred, as your dripping hole was swiftly filled with the deep stretch of his thickened fingers. Your inner walls parted around the thickness, adjusting to the new mass as if it was the first time they had explored your depths, yet having a familiar stretch you had been yearning for all those nights you had spent doing his husbandly duties.

A pleased sigh fell from your lips, the weight of your legs sunk further onto his sturdy shoulders as you sunk into the motions of his fingers. The thrust started slow, allowing your cunt to adjust to its thickness as they slid in and out with a small squelch as they curled inside of you on occasion. The dwarf fixated on each small movement you made as he curved his fingers at different angles, rediscovering your sweet spots as he pressed soft kisses against the outer flesh of the lips between your thighs. The coldness of his braid clasps caused a shiver to roam down your spine.

"Mmm, she looks so pretty, ibinê." The words were more of a growled vibration against the outer left side of your cunt, his eyes glazed over with lust as he watched his fingers slide in and out of your soaked cunt. Watching the way the tightened hole stretched around the thickness of his calloused fingers, swallowing them whole before spitting them back out with a gasp, drenched with those delicious juices he loved so. "Gods, what a good girl. Coating my fingers like the good little slutty pussy she is." He continued, the stretch of his fingers slowly pushed back inside, pushing apart your walls further as they curled up into one of your sweet spots making your heels dig into his back slightly.

"Gods...Fili..." The words escaped your parted lips as the weight of your head fell back slightly, the bed creaking under the shift of weight as you leaned back onto your forearms, attempting to push your cunt further onto his fingers with little avail as his tight grasp kept you still. "I need more. I need you." You whined out, your hips swaying in little circles upon his palm the moment he sunk the entire length of his thick, girthy fingers inside. Yearning for them to move faster, to scrape against the most sensitive spots of your inner walls, yet they remained still.

"Oh?" A purred sound of amusement vibrated against your cunt as he pressed yet another kiss against the slicken skin. Another torturously loving taunt, a wordless reminder that he was in control. "You want me, do you, ibinê?" The squelch of his fingers slowly pulling back filled the room, soon followed by your pitiful whine as you attempted to sink yourself back onto the calloused length.

"Gods, yes." You groaned, the weight of your head falling back further as you stared up at the stone ceiling—briefly wondering if it had ever been cleaned. "Please, Fili, I need you. You are driving me mad." The heat of your breath danced above you in the cold air as you eagerly awaited for more.

However, the fullness within you soon departed. Your head snapped up as you leaned forward ever-so-slightly upon your elbows, a look of confusion spreading upon your face as your gaze shifted onto the dwarf between your thighs.

"Mmm, look at that." The king groaned in pleasure, his gaze fixated on his glistening finger—glistening with your juices. "She did such a good job, didn't she, ibinê?" He purred as he rose the fingers to his lips, the tip of his tongue peeking through as he gazed upon the wetness for a moment longer before he slid them into his eager mouth. A pleased growl rumbled from his chest as he sucked your juices off of his own hand, savoring the tang of you as the weight of his head pressed into the softness of your thigh.

Once he licked his fingers clean, the king began to shift in his spot, slowly rising from his knelt position on the floor—yet your legs remained upon his shoulders. A surprised squeak fell from your lips as the shift of position pulled you a bit further off the bed, your hands quickly darting to the mattress in the hopes of holding yourself steady, yet the dwarven king was quick to adjust your position.

He lifted you with ease, as he had aided in lifting far heavier things in his life, ensuring that your back was flat against the mattress as your ass hovered just near the edge. However, your legs remained upon his shoulders throughout it.

"I bet she'd look even prettier choking around my cock." The king purred, one of his hands slipped away from your figure, finding its way to the length of his fat cock. It circled around it, holding a firm grip around his thick base as he spat down upon it before he began to glide his calloused hands up and down the length. "Don't you think so, my queen?" His question was quickly met with the blur of your head bobbing in response, a hungered gaze in your eyes as you stared down at his glistening length.

You were entranced by the sight of his calloused hands gliding upon his thick, throbbing cock, watching as the cherry-colored tip leaked out white pearls of precum which mixed with the glistening layer of spit upon his length.

"Gods, yes." You breathed, your back arching at the sight—responding to it like a bitch in heat. "She'd look so pretty, Fili. So fucking pretty choking around it." The words left your lips in a whine as you watched as he continued to stroke himself—wishing it was your hands around his throbbing cock.

"Mmm, I'm glad we agree." The corners of his thin lips lifted in a smirk as he leaned down, resting his slicken length against your soaked folds. His hips slowly began to rock, the pulsating mushroom-shaped tip bumping against your clit with each rocking motion. "Tell me, should I feed her?" He purred, the heat of his breath tickling the nape of your neck as he leaned further into you—the bed creaking under the weight as his throbbing length pressed further against your sensitive folds. The extra pressure against your sensitive bundle of nerves made your toes curl as your cunt began to tingle.

"Yes! Gods, yes. She's so hungry, Fili." You whined as your hands clenched at the sheets beneath you. "Please, Fili, please feed my cunt. I can't take it anymore." A plea that was swiftly heard, the dwarven king shifted back allowing his hand to find his thickened cock once more. He slowly lowered it down to your dripping hole, the throbbing, angry head hovering a mere breath away from the entrance.

"As you wish, my queen." The fat, throbbing head slowly pushed into your entrance, splitting open your inner walls as it slowly delved inside of you. A shared gasp escaped both your and the king's lips as he sunk inside of you. "Fuck, ibinê" He groaned, the lids of his sapphire eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he melted at the sensation of your tightened embrace.

An embrace that had not changed since the last time he had fucked you, yet the girth of his cock had made the squeeze feel far more snug upon his aching, fat cock.

"Gods." The word escaped your lips in a breathless gasp as your back arched into the sensation. His throbbing cock filled you up entirely, stretching out your inner walls in the most heavenly of ways as he remained still upon you. Giving you a few moments to adjust before the bed began to squeak beneath the shifting of his hips.

His thrusts were slow and precise. The motions of his hips were fluid, like steady waves on a breezy summer day. He ensured to bottom in you each time, the bush that surrounded the base of his cock becoming damp from the sweet juices of your cunt, before he slowly backed out—allowing for only the throbbing tip of his cock to remain inside of you as he savored the clenching of your walls as they attempted to pull him back in before he slowly began to enter you fully again. Repeating the cycle for a few more thrusts before he gradually began to pick up the pace.

The harsh snap of his hips jutting against the plump flesh of your rear echoed throughout the room, a sound that appeared harsher in tone but not as harsh as it was in sensation. As the king found a steady rhythm within his hips, he began to lean further into you—pressing the new weight of his body deep into your cunt.

"Fuck." The king hissed in pleasure as his length continued to disappear within your drooling cunt—it choked upon his fattened length, feeling as if it were about to burst by the seams each time he pushed his weight further into you. "You're taking me so well, my queen. So fucking well." The heat of his breath tickled the crook of your neck as he leaned into you further, causing a yelp to escape from your plump lips as he buried his face into the nape of your neck. His hairy face grazed against your sensitive flesh, sending a shiver down your spine as his lips began to press a mixture of kisses and nips around the sensitive region.

As the dwarven king continued to plant love bites and hickeys upon your neck, the veil of pleasure lifted just enough for you to recognize the position you were in. Due to Fili leaning into you, your knees were now pressing back into your shoulders as your legs quivered in pleasure. Your arse now lifted slightly in the air as the king pounded down into you, hitting your most sensitive spots with ease as your sweet nectar overflowed from your cunt. A perfect position for breeding.

You knew that was what he desired, to fuck you till you were round with his seed. It was a position you would occasionally entertain, but it had never felt this good before.

Suddenly, the dwarven king shifted back slightly, giving you a false hope that he would ease up on the thrusts, yet it was a hope that was quickly put to rest as his calloused hand slid in between you. His calloused thumb was quick to connect with the sensitive bundle of nerves between your opened legs, causing your back to arch up further into the sensation.

You were pure putty in his hands. A mindless ragdoll for him to fuck senseless, to give endless pleasure to before he filled you with his seed. The squelching click of your pussy being stuffed with his fat cock echoed throughout the room, your cunt sobbing around the thick length as it continued to carve away inside your walls—after all, his people were known partially for their carvings.

His rough thumb pressed further against your clit, tracing circles upon the twitching bundle of nerves as his hips continued to jut sharply into you. Refusing to give your sopping pussy a moment of peace after spending so many apart from it.

Your hands clenched at the bedding beneath you, twisting the furs within your dampened grasp. The weight of your head sunk back into the softness beneath you, as your toes curled inward towards the balls of your feet causing the knuckles upon them to strain as did those in your hands.

"Fili, please—" Your pleads were cut off by another choked moan, a mixture of a curse and a cry of pleasure as your hips lifted slightly to meet his—yet they were quickly pressed back down as the king continued to thrust his weight into your cunt, filling it to the brim with each hard thrust. Your walls clenched and quivered around the throbbing length, a wordless warning that you were on the brink of release, but this only seemed to fuel the king.

"Shh, shh." The king's shushes vibrated against the sensitive flesh of your neck, causing your legs to tremble further upon his shoulders. "I'm right here, Y/N, let her cry on my cock. Let her tears soak it, eh?" His lips continued to press kisses against the soft flesh of your neck as his thumb danced upon your throbbing bundle of nerves, swirling quickened circles that matched the speed at which he fucked you.

The throbbing head of his cock continued to pound away at your most sensitive spot, beating away at the dam of pleasure until it finally burst open with a roaring gush as your sweet nectar flowed forth, coating your husband's length in a squirting gush. A slew of incoherent moans fell from your lips as the familiar tingle of pleasure roamed throughout your body. It felt as if you were weightless as if you were both within your body yet floating right above it—able to feel the heavenly pounding of your husband's animalistic thrusts, yet unable to feel the prickle of his bearded face against your neck.

As you slowly came down from the heights of your pleasure, the heavenly stinging prick of static made your body even more sensitive to the bitter nip of the chilled air, it shivered at its cold caress yet your body was coated with the glistening sheen of sweat from pleasure. The sensations within your body slowly returned, yet the heavenly tingle did not leave your veins as the king continued to thrust into you.

"That's it, my queen, drool on it." He purred, raising both his head and the hand which once caressed your aching clit to meet your face. His thick, calloused thumb gently wiping away the cascading stream of drool from the corner of your mouth. Your inner walls fluttered around his throbbing cock at the sweet gesture, a reminder of his undying love for you.

The pace at which his hips held began to stutter, becoming sloppier and more drawn out as your walls continued to clench and quiver around his fattened length. A sensation that encouraged him to continue his movements, despite the raging fire within his belly begging him to release. His face returned to the crook of your neck, desperately attempting to hold on for a few moments longer as he knew he would be unable to do so if he continued to gaze upon the heavenly sight of your pleasure-drunken face.

However, it was a fire he was unable to keep contained for longer than a few more thrusts, as the knot of pleasure within his core snapped, a low groan of pleasure vibrated against the crook of your neck as the white, hot ropes of his seed began to paint the inner walls of your womb. Seed your cunt accepted with much ease, drinking it down as if it were her favorite drink as your inner walls continued to milk him—seeking out every last drop from him.

"Fuck." The king breathed into your neck, his calloused hands encasing your forearms as he held you steady—knowing he would end up filling you again if you moved even slightly. "She's a hungry girl today, isn't she?" The words escaped his thin lips in a breathy chuckle as he found the strength to pull back ever so slightly, allowing his sapphire eyes to gaze upon his masterpiece.

Your gemstone-colored eyes were glazed over with pleasure, the lids drooped slightly as a trail of drool continued to drip forth from the corner of your lips. Lips that were parted, desperately sucking in any ounce of chilled air it could as your mind desperately clung to any sensation to keep you from slipping into the depths of pleasure.

"Look at you, ibinê, all fucked-out of it." The king cooed as he leaned back further, allowing your legs to stretch out as the bed creaked under the shift of his weight. He now stood near the edge of the bed with ever so quivering legs, his gaze shifting to your face and onto your cunt which continued to stretch around his fattened cock. His calloused hand gently caressed the side of your face, the roughness of his harsh skin against your smooth skin made your inner walls twitch ever-so-slightly.

"Are you okay, my love?" Fili asked, his voice dripping with love and affection—acting as if he had not fucked you senseless moments ago. "Was I too harsh? I didn't hurt you, did I?" The lust within his gaze eased, now filled with a look you could only describe as worried puppy eyes.

"Fili, I'm fine." The words left your lips in a breathless tone, your chest rising and falling at a slightly rapid speed as you attempted to catch your breath from all that had transpired. It had been months since he had last fucked you. "I just need a few moments. I fear I am no longer the young woman who could go round after round with you." You spoke, a statement which caused a deep chuckle to rumble within the dwarf's chest as he nodded his golden mane in agreement.

"And I am no longer the dwarf who could ravish you every second of every hour, but I will still try." Fili spoke, the corner of his thin lips curved into a smile as he leaned down carefully, pressing his thin lips against your plump ones in a gentle kiss.

A sensation that caused your heart to flutter against your ribs, a moment of tenderness within your world of uncertainty.

After a few moments, your lips came apart yet he still hovered above you. For a moment, you expected the rhythm of his hips to return, but it never did. Instead, the king leaned further into you until his head laid on the flesh of your bosom—the gentle tickle of his hairy face causing a shiver to roam down your spine, yet again, and the corner of your lips to be pulled into a smile.

Your fingers found themselves in his golden locks, softly raking through the sea of honey strands. The warm tickle of the king's pleased exhale warmed the chilled skin of your bosom, his head slightly burying into them as his hand dropped from the flesh of your face and landed upon your shoulder.

"Give me a few moments and we may start again, my queen." The golden-haired king whispered, the lids of his eyes threatening to flutter shut as he leaned into your warm embrace. "Take all the time you need, halwûn." You whispered as your fingers continued to roam through the softness of his mane, slowly lulling the stressed king into relaxation. A comforting change of pace amidst the typical stressors of his days.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[mushroomates]

gimli headcanons:

likes doing laundry. finds it soothing

history nerd!! loves reading old tombs/biographies of his ancestors

is incredibly intelligent. beats frodo in chess. would beat gandalf but gandalf cheats. has been in a stalemate with aragorn for two and a half years.

well mannered but chooses to forgo his politeness to make a point. especially around elves.

does NOT like horses. not just riding them, which is canon, but actually dislikes the animal itself. the reasons why include (but are not limited to) :

he does not like being not on ground. he does not have a fear of heights so much as a fear of… feet not on ground. as evidenced by refusal to jump, treehouses, and well, horses

he does not like their faces. they are long and have eyes on the side like prey. gimli thinks this is deceiving as horses are very large and can kick in someone’s skull. not his skull.

gimli believes that in a one on one match with a horse, he could easily win. he has thought of several, very specific, scenarios of this and has a detailed plan of attack should this situation occur.

they so easily turned against their home for an evil overlord (read: sauron stole all the black horses from rohan) and therefore cannot be trusted. as a rule, anything that willing you let you ride it cannot be trusted. they can’t be satisfied with this life. they are plotting something.

believes he would be great at drums. it’s just hitting things hard and he’s pretty strong.

ok, another thing about horses: they are fragile to a ridiculous extent. you breath wrong and it breaks. they have bad bones and bad blood flow in their legs, and their legs are all that they’re used for. he doesn’t understand why humans invested so much time into horses when they’re genetically bad at what they are meant to do. he’d feel bad for the horses if they weren’t so awful.

drinks coffee, not tea

takes great with the up keeping of his gear. he sharpens his axes, polishes his boots, shines his armor and waxes his mustache. that’s not gear, but he takes great pride in looking groomed and caring for his belongings.

has an axe for every occasion. battle axe? do you want throwing or slashing. a day on the town? have you seen this intricately carved masterpiece that also is a weapon? digging a hole? PICKAXE. cutting a cake? how about an axe???

hates the rain because it ruins his hair and beard. also loves the rain because it ruins legolas’s hair and clothes.

will eat anything. has a great tolerance for spice. contrary to popular belief, dwarves are not shy of seasoning but are very cautious around other races in fear of poisoning their friends

will also eat some rocks. salty is his favorite (halite, hanksite, glauberite) but also likes to add chunks of chalcanthite to his food for a slightly sweet yet metalic flavor. this is also slightly (SLIGHTLY) poisonous as evidenced by sharing his trail mix with boromir

also calls dirt the “local seasoning”

will taste dirt to try and get a feeling for the land. this tells him the acidity, weather, possible wildlife, and also pisses off legolas

actaully genuinely likes the taste of dirt. (note: if you desire to eat clay/dirt that is a symptom of iron deficiency. for gimli, he eats spoonfuls of the stuff like their supplements because as a kid it was fed to him like multivitamins)

OK SO HEAR ME OUT: lack of sunlight can cause really low hemoglobin and ferritin (a blood protein that contains iron) sooo being constantly in dark caves can cause some forms of iron deficiency. because dwarves are conscious of their young, dwarf children often grow up not often being in direct sunlight.

the solution? dirt. dirt contains iron and other tasty minerals that are good for the body. charcoal has natural antioxidants. so does clay. am i saying that momma gimli (unnamed) fed her son ash and clumps of dirt? yes. also bits of broken pottery. it’s good of the immune system.

fr tho clay/dirt/charcoal are the dwarven multivitamins. you have a tummy-ache? here, have a rock. i truly believe this was scientifically proven by dwarves and only FOR dwarves (plz do not eat dirt)

fuckin loves mushrooms. has a mushroom log at home. whenever dwarves find some fungai in a cave they go feral

likes dogs. thinks it’s great that they dig holes. thinks it’s fantastic that the bury things in holes. absolutes loves when they get muddy, and then shake off all water and dirt all over you.

when he came back home with the name lockbearer, a lot of the dwarves thought it was really cool and he has some sort of elven puzzle that requires a code to unlock something. imagine their surprise when he rocks up and is like: no, even better. HAIRS. three of them.

enjoys making mudpies- made them as a kid with his cousins, (mostly with rock slurry) and continues to, even even as an adult.

made them on the fellowship with the hobbits. taught them all about the best types of dirt and the water-to-soil- ratio needed.

while cutting up slices of his pie, he offered one to boromir, who in good nature, took it, clearly thinking it was just part of the bit.

poor boromir was locked in a stalemate after gimli cut his own slice, and began eating it.

to his credit, boromir did brave a few bites, but had to stop once he nearly had a mouthful of maggots

“protein”

gimli is like crazy good at hair. can braid quickly and efficiently in elaborate styles

picked up eleven hair style techniques in lorien (quicker than legolas) and was forced to relay them to the elf through twine as there is no way he’s letting grubby elf fingers to touch his glorious mane that’s been decades in the making

would ask for a drink “on the rocks” and get slightly upset if it did not come back with actual rocks

[verkomy]

okay so I’m rereading the hobbit and I want to make a list of my favorite quotes and parts so here we go:

“bilbo (…) got something a bit queer in his make-up from the took side” I chuckled

“mr. baggins was very fond of flowers” of course he was he’s a blorbo

“it was a beautiful golden harp, and when thorin struck it the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that bilbo forgot everything else” bombastic side eye

“as he lay in bed he could hear thorin still humming to himself in the best bedroom next to him. bilbo went to sleep with that in his ears, and it gave him very uncomfortable dreams” criminal offensive side eye

“the explanation did not seem to explain” my brain 24/7 (but also when someone’s trying to explain the rules of any board game to me)

“bilbo was wearing a dark-green hood and a dark-green cloak borrowed from dwalin. they were too large for him, and he looked rather comic” bilbo in dwarven clothes, just throwing it out there

“bilbo baggins, a bur — a hobbit,” said poor bilbo, shaking all over, and wondering how to make owl-noises before their throttled him” this one made me laugh

“trolls simply detest the very sight of dwarves (uncooked)” this one too

“his house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all” I want to go to there

“dori, who was at the back next to bilbo, and a decent fellow. he made the hobbit scramble on his shoulders as best as he could with his tied hands, and then off they all went at a run. (…) that sent them on faster than ever, and as poor bilbo could not possibly go half as fast, they took it in turn to carry him on their backs” WE WERE ROBBED

“why, o why did I ever leave my hobbit-hole!” said poor mr. baggins bumping up and down on bombur’s back “why, o why did I ever bring a wretched little hobbit on a treasure hunt!” said poor bombur” comedic duo

gandalf answered angrily “I brought him, and I don’t bring things that are of no use” we love a supportive friend

“(gandalf) gave bilbo a queer look from under his bushy eyebrows” live gandalf reaction

“you ought not to be rude to an eagle, when you are only the size of a hobbit” good life advice

“here they sat on wooden benches while gandalf began his tale, and bilbo swung his dangling legs and looked at the flowers in the garden” a short king <3

“that only makes eleven and not fourteen, unless wizards count differently to other people” I LOVE BOOK BEORN SO MUCH and this whole chapter is probably my favorite by far

“the hobbit felt quite crushed, and as there seemed nothing else to do he did go to bed” what a mood

“long noses are sometimes useful you see” do with that information what you want

“they knew only too well that they would soon all have been dead, if it had not been for the hobbit; and they thanked him many times” AS THEY SHOULD, too bad thorin didn’t see any of what happened

“he did not like being dependent on by everyone, and he wished he had the wizard at hand” honestly, same

“never laugh at live dragon, bilbo you fool” another hopeful advice

“you are more worthy to wear the armour of elf-princes than many that have looked more comely in it. but wonder if thorin oakenshield will see it too” ouch

“then bilbo turned away, and he went by himself, and sat alone wrapped in a blanket, and, whether you believe it or not, he wept until his eyes were red and his voice was hoarse” this one hurts

“he was in fact held by all the hobbits of the neighbourhood to be queer” of course he was :D

[mamba052]

A "The Hobbit" fic where the dwarfes are confused about wheater Bilbo is a male of female hobbit and all the shenanigans that come with that. 

Like, think about it.

We know that male and female dwarves look very similar, too the point where female dwarves disguise themselves while on the road, to avoid attracting attention of big folk. None of the thirteen dwafves have, as far as we know, ever seen a hobbit, and it's probable that they have no idea if there is any differences between how male and female hobbits act or look. 

In neither dwarven nor elven society do there seem to be any social differences between male and female. Both male and female can become any profession, hold any position, have free will to do what they desire. Of course, dwarowwdams are held in higher regard because female dwarves are rarer then male dwarves, but that seems to be the main difference between genders

So, when the thirteen dwarves are told about a hobbit by Gandalf, a male hobbit that lives in the shire, all of them assume that it must be a male hobbit. But then they show up to the bag end, and are meet with a tiny little person. 

and all of a sudden they aren't so sure. 

None of them have any knowledge on Hobbit society, nor of any differences between genders. The only thing they can go off, is the fact that the shire is near Bree. Bree, a settlement for the race of men. The race of men, which is known to have show some obvious differences between men and women, social and physical. This is something that they would all be aware of, living as nomads after Erebour and making trade with men.  

And so, the dwarves are introduced to a tiny person, that: 

- Cooks and bakes

- Keeps a strict personal hygien

- Complains about the rest of the companies personal hygien

- Gardens

- Has never traveled far, with or without an escort

- Is easily frightened by small criters and does not like getting dirty

- Moans about the state of his clothes and washing.

- Seems INCREASINGLY fragile

- does not know how to handle a weapon

- does not know how to fight in any kind 

- Fusses over the state of his kitchen, cutlery and his plates

- Fusses over the ponies and gives them extra treats

- Picks flowers, herbs and nuts by the side of the road

- Does not have nor seem to grow a beard

- Gossips about the other hobbits (in Particular a female relative) 

- Doilies

All things that seems to, at least by the standards of men, indicate a more feminine person. 

And so, by the end of the first week many in the company come to the conclusion that, much like many dwarrodams, Master Baggins is a female hobbit disgused as male.

It makes sense after all. It is well known that men treat their women folk differently from dwarves and elves, where everything is mostly equal. Bilbo, as the sole child of his parents would need to hide him being female, assuming hobbits followed similar rules and standards as the men they live neighbors with. It would be the only way for him to continue living like he was, considering his parents where dead and he was sole heir to them both. 

So, it just makes sense that Bilbo would be a female hobbit in disguise. 

None of the dwarves make any mentions of this fact. It would be rude to do so, and could endanger the hobbit in the long run. So no mention is made of it. Until Rivendell that is. 

For it isn't until Rivendel, when it comes up in a conversation between Fili and Kili. The two brothers sit and discuss the company, and when Bilbo comes up, Kili asks Fili whether he thinks Bilbo will ever reveal to the company that she is female. 

Fili looks at his brother surprised, before inquiring what he's on about. 

And after the two brothers run around talking too the rest of the company (excluding Bilbo and Gandalf), it comes to attention that around half the company has come to Kili conclusion (Bilbo is female disguised as Male) and the other half think similar to Fili (Bilbo is just male). 

And so, multiple bets are made, and multiple plans are put into place to figure out the mystery of the gender of Bilbo. 

None of them comes right out and asks. No matter what turns out to be true, it would be considerably rude to just ASK Bilbo something like this. 

Instead, multiple plans are put into place to try and figure it all out. including, but not limited to: 

- Checking if Bilbo grows a beard at any point

- ask Oin if he knows. The healer wacks whoever asks with his trumpet, stating patient-healer confidentiality. (In reality, Oin has just as little an idea as the rest of them) 

- Ask Gandalf, who never answers, but laughs until they are sure he's going to pass out from lack of oxygen. 

- Ask Bilbo about the shire, which doesn't reveal any further information, other than the dwarves learning who to avoid if they ever go to the shire (some lass named Lobelia is put high on the list of "avoid at all cost") 

- See if Bilbo has the *cough* right assets (an idea that is immediately scraped, no matter how much money is now in the bettingpool. None of the dwarves want to break Bilbos trust nor make him uncomfortable in any way, so the idea never go anywhere other than hypothetical) 

- See if they can get Bilbo to bath at the same time in a river they pass (no success) 

In the end, none of them actually ever find out on the quest the mysterious gender of Bilbo Baggins. 

I think it can end in a couple of ways, depending on what you like. 

1. The Thilbo ending 

As this entire plot is happening, Thorin is just as confused as any of them about the true gender of the hobbit, a fact that distresses him more and more the farther they go on their journey. espesially when he comes to the realisation that he has become quite infatuated with the hobbit. 

Bilbo and Thorin confess to each other during the battle, and shares eachother company for the first time soon after (everyone lives, nobody dies alright?). The next day Thorin walks up to Nori, the keeper of the bet, and simply states "Male" before walking of red in the face. Nori laughs his ass of, and properly distributes the earnings to all the winners. 

The hole ordeal is forgotten about, and no mention is made to Bilbo until years later. After Bilbo finds out Thorin has to sleep in his office for a week. 

2. They never find out

It's like it says, none of the Dwarves ever figure out the truth, but none of them really care that much and it doesn't really affect any of them, so none of them are really bothered other than being curious from time to time. 

This could end similairly with Bilbo finding out about the hole ordeal years later, after which he gives the company the cold shoulder for a couple of days. But he never tells them what the truth is, and none of them ever find out. 

3. Someone else asks. 

Someone not apart of the company straight up asks Bilbo the question they are all wondering. The company quickly comes to Bilbos defense, ready to defend his honor. Instead Bilbo simply shrugs, and answer, simply giving no fucks. 

The company feels very baffled (and stupid)

[daitranscripts]

The Descent Conversation

Valta

The Descent Masterpost

Valta: The Inquisition is on everyone’s lips. Even the Assembly has taken an interest.

Valta (Harrowmont rules): In his younger years, King Harrowmont would have greeted you personally. But he is too old now for such a journey. Valta (Bhelen rules): I’m told King Bhelen wished to meet you personally, but the deshyrs talked him down. The earthquakes present too great a risk. When the previous king died, Orzammar nearly fell apart.

Spoken to again Vlata: Those tomes were pristine before the Deep Roads. Shaper Czibor’s going to kill me.

General greeting Valta: Atrast Vala, Inquisitor.

1 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: How do you become a Shaper? [2]

Dwarf PC: Why was House Cadash exiled? [3]

General: How do you know Titans exist? [4]

General: Let’s talk about Orzammar. [5]

General: That’s all for now. [6]

2 - Investigate: How do you become a Shaper? PC: How does one become a Shaper of Memories? Valta: I was born with a keen stone sense. It caught the Shaperate’s attention. But my passion for history earned me the title. It was never really a choice. [back to 1]

3 - Dwarf PC: Why was House Cadash exiled? PC: House Cadash was exiled from Orzammar long before my time, but no one has ever told me why. Does the Shaperate know? Valta: It’s my understanding that your House tried to obtain information about a war golem during the First Blight. PC: Why would that warrant exile? Valta: Their methods were considered… offensive. House Cadash was feared long before it joined the Carta. I wish I could tell you more, but family histories are not my area of expertise. [back to 1]

4 - General: How do you know Titans exist? PC: You seem quite excited by the idea that these “Titans” may exist. Valta: My connection to the Stone allows me to hear it. But I can only listen. Titans can sing through the Stone. It is… extraordinary. We call ourselves children of the Stone. What does that make the Titans? [back to 1]

5 - General: Let’s talk about Orzammar. PC: What’s life like in Orzammar? Valta: I haven’t lived in Orzammar for three years, but I receive updates. Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?

6 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Do you miss it? [7]

General: Dwarven politics intrigued me. [8]

General: Why are castes so important? [9]

General: Let’s discuss something else. [10]

7 - Investigate: Do you miss it? PC: Do you miss living there? Valta: I do sometimes—particularly the easy access to a warm bath and clean clothes. But the importance of my work outweighs the comforts of the city. [back to 6]

8 - General: Dwarven politics intrigued me. PC: How’s the political climate in Orzammar? Valta: There have been riots due to food shortages, but they will pass. I hope. I’ve no doubt some deshyrs will try to use the situation for their own gain. But the king has a good hold over the Assembly.

Dialogue options:

Special: Deshyrs?

[Back to 6]

11 - Special: Deshyrs? PC: What are deshyrs? Valta: Members of the Assembly, all noble born. Through the Assembly, they govern Orzammar. The king presides over them. [back to 6]

9 - General: Why are castes so important? PC:A dwarf’s caste seems to dictate their entire life in Orzammar. Valta: I could bore you for hours about our society’s castes and the tensions that go along with them. Simply put, citizens of Orzammar are born into a caste and that is their lot in life. A member of the Smith Caste can never join the Warrior Caste and vice versa. Everything is predetermined.

Dialogue options:

Special: You can’t change castes?

[Back to 6]

12 - Special: You can’t change castes? PC:There’s no way for someone to change castes? Valta: It is possible for a member of the lower caste to marry above their station. But only their children’s caste will improve. Similarly, when dwarves are made casteless, so are their descendants. [back to 6]

10 - General: Let’s discuss something else. PC:That’s enough about Orzammar. Valta: Of course. [back to 1]

6 - General: That’s all for now. PC: Thanks for the insight, Shaper. Valta: My pleasure, Inquisitor. PC: We’ll speak another time.

[outofangband]

Basic Tol Sirion World Building

world building post for the Isle of Wolves!

World Building Masterlist

This was requested by an anon awhile ago, I’m so sorry for the delay

Please feel free to ask more!! General posts are hard because I didn’t have specific categories to cover so feel free to send categories or more questions!

Tol Sirion stood from the middle of the first century of the first age, for almost 400 years until 456 FA. Finrod first oversaw its building but Orodreth was left in charge and it was under his rule that the fortress lasted until Sauron

-Minas Tirith, unlike Nargothrond, is primarily a military operation rather than a creation of a realm where people can live and work and prosper. Minas Tirith means watch tower.

-Minas Tirith is constructed primarily from white limestone, mostly from deposits of the river Sirion, south of Tol Sirion. Slate, wood and clay were also used

-It is not a city, but rather watch tower with a collection of outer buildings, including an infirmary, a library of sorts, where information about the lands and its creatures and people were collected for sometime, an armory and forge and small houses. The watch tower itself has a number of personal rooms.

-There are also gardens and a small greenhouse, partly modeled after the one built at Barad Eithel which was warmed through hot springs. The greenhouse at Tol Sirion is mostly warmed through the sun and with steaming and misting practices originating from Alqualondë

-The library was a project of Finrod’s and at the time of its creation held very little text, because there was not room to bring many tomes, and written, works over. However, by the time it was invaded there was a modest collection of research. Not all of it would turn out to be completely accurate, but always done with sincerity, and with the help of truly preserving information. All of it was destroyed when the island was invaded.

-Food was primarily sourced from the river itself and from trade with Dorthonion, Hithlum, and Nargothrond. The island of Tol Sirion was probably both too small and its soil in ideal for large scale agricultural production though materials like leaves, roots, some fruit and meat were obtained locally. There were also some smaller gardens, mostly for medicinal herbs but some vegetables too.

-Fresh fish and vegetables, both grown and foraged, are common. During the Watchful peace, small scale agriculture projects are headed by some of the host. These were primarily west, in the shadow of the Ered Wethrin. Trout and river lampreys are delicacies

-Wild mushrooms are also eaten. Elves who have more contact with dwarven and human groups are more likely to eat mushrooms

-Materials for clothing, weapons and other supplies were also mostly acquired through trade however during the Watchful peace, mineral and ore deposits in the nearby mountains were quarried to gather metals and other resources

-The environment is far colder than Tirion, Alqualondë and the rest of Valinor and Orodreth and his host would suffer homesickness at times. The summers and spring are warm however and the island is draped in wild flowers and wild herbs, the scene mixing with the cool water

-The island is large enough that there are several small underground streams that cut through it. It’s from one of these that a well is sourced which provides Minas Tirith with water. It is from two of these wells that form the caverns that will become the pits of the Isle of Wolves. With the streams corrupted by Sauron’s force and repairs of the wells and foundations are no longer done so frequently, the water that drips down the walls where Finrod’s company are chained is poisoned and foul

Please feel free to ask more!

[charis23]

Bagginsheild Fics

A Shot in the Dark

Rated: T. Words: 213k. By: Silver_pup

When he opens his eyes again, he finds himself in his old bed in his old home in his old body. Is this death? Or a trick of magic? Either way, Bilbo recognizes a second chance when he sees one, and this time his adventure with Thorin is going to go a bit differently.

One of These Days (Again and Again)

Rated: G. Words: 13k. By: authoressjean

By a curse or a blessing from the Valar, Bilbo finds himself repeating the same horrific day of war outside of Erebor again and again. His repeats are always triggered when someone from the company falls. He suffers days and days on his own before the others begin to repeat the day with him. One would think that with the whole company, an elf king, and a bowman all knowing what was to come, Bilbo would have an easier time getting them all through the day alive. One would think that, wouldn't they.

The Riven Crown

Rated: E. Words: 254k. By: BeautifulFiction

The aftermath of war is no laughing matter. Those who died must be honoured, those who are wounded must be healed, and those who remain need food and clothing, peace and sanctuary. With Thorin's life hanging in the balance, it is up to Bilbo and the rest of the Company to rule the rag-tag remnants of Erebor in his place. Then there is the matter of the gold... Can Bilbo save both king and kingdom, or is Erebor destined to fall deeper into ruin?

A King Under the Hill

Rated: T. Words: 14k. By: mEEtyouinheLL

A Dwarven caravan stops in the Shire on their way to the Blue Mountains, and while Bilbo is curious to meet these strange people and learn a bit about their secretive customs he never expected to get caught up in their political and personal lives.

An Unexpected Addition

Rated: T. Words: 88.9k. By: karategal

All of the dwarves survive the Battle of the Five Armies, but Bilbo must return to the Shire to sort out his old life and make way for a new one in Erebor. Over one year later, Bilbo comes back to the Lonely Mountain with a recently orphaned Frodo. King Thorin isn't quite sure what to make of this new, tiny addition to his Company.

Sansûkh

Rated: T. Words: 577k. By: determamfidd

I think we all know this, but if not:

(Bagginshield, Gimli/Legolas) In which recovery takes time, the dead members of the Company take to watching Gimli as though he’s a soap opera, the living struggle with being left behind, Legolas is confused, Khuzdul is abused, and Thorin is four feet and ten inches of guilt and anger.

Happy Hobbit Holiday - The Only Thing

Rated: T. Words: 32k. By: helisol

A story in which neither Bilbo nor Thorin can fully explain what they want, but at least they can show it through their actions.

A Fair Wind Homeward

Rated: M. Words: 90k. By: Daisy_May

‘You stupid, stubborn dwarf!’ Bilbo bellowed. ‘I saved your arse from being warg-food, Oakenshield, so show some bloody appreciation.’

The Valar send Bilbo and Thorin back in time to fix things, but the afterlife changes people considerably.

Some folk are in for a few surprises.

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes

Rated: G. Words: 64k. By: diemarysues

Bilbo Baggins has been plagued with dreams for some months, always filled with the same stranger: big hands, strong arms, dark hair. It seems a mystery until he figures that it is a Dwarf, though this only narrows down his search to every Dwarf in Erebor.

When he overhears mention of a special party in the Mountain he wishes briefly that he can attend. But that's ridiculous. He's a Hobbit, not a Dwarf.

Turns out that's not a problem when magic is involved.

An Expected Journey

Rated: E. Words: 294k. By: MarieJaquelyn

“I just wish…”

“What do you wish?”

“I wish I could have changed it all.”

For years Bilbo has written about his adventures and told stories about his dealings with dwarves and dragons. To most it seemed like fanciful nonsense but to Bilbo it was all very real. A weight followed him home from his travels, one called regret. Now in his final moments Bilbo has a choice to make – go quietly into death’s embrace or go back again and face all the fear and pain for the chance to make things right?

Of course, change is a fickle thing and not everything can be done again as Bilbo is about to find out. In the end, it may not only be salvation that he’s fighting for.

The dangers of parent meeting

Rated: T. Words: 15k. By: Alx_GG

“What do you mean you are not scared?” Pippin said to Sam

“Why should I be? One of them is a cook and the other is a writer, Frodo describes them as very nice” Sam said

“That is just one parent, Bilbo Baggins, you are missing the other parent” Merry said

Or were Sam is going to meet his boyfriend's parents but he doesn't truly understand the importance, or danger, until Merry and Pippin enlighten him

Between Vices and Virtues

Rated: G. Words: 40k. By: LordOfTheRazzles

King Thorin Durinson has only held the throne for a few months after the death of his greedy predecessor. When Shire Inquiry journalist Bilbo Baggins is brought in to observe a meeting of powers, it's quickly made apparent that Thorin's sheltered and strict lifestyle has him completely disconnected from those he rules, as well as his family. It's up to Bilbo to show Thorin that the world is worth exploring and that not everything is as it seems.

Yavanna’s Whisper

Rated: not rated. Words: 109k. By: RavenShira

When he opened the door of his smial and looked at the individual standing on his steps, for the first time in his life Bilbo could hear the voice. Yavanna was singing to him, only a few lines but it was enough. This was his long awaited mate.

It took a few more days for Bilbo to realize what Yavanna was singing to him was not the happy ending like it had been for his parents.

His mate was fated to die.

...

Not on his watch!

Or: The one where Thorin is oblivious and Bilbo's plans mostly have one major fault: He forgot to include himself in them.

Of Palaces and Ruins

Rated: E. Words: 117k. By: livelongandgetiton

Slow burn. Bilbo Baggins is a half-baked archaeologist who has put his dreams of adventure on hold to teach secondary school. Thorin is the grandson of a politically powerful figure in the historically rich and deeply isolationist country of Erebor.

When he flees conflict and corruption in Erebor to settle in London, he finds his hands full with two young boys. Gandalf meddles, and Bilbo signs on as a personal tutor for the boys in hopes of getting a foot in the door to archaeological work in Erebor. He soon discovers that Thorin is a tough nut to crack.

As Bilbo takes care of the boys he and Thorin grow closer, and secrets about not just the brooding stranger, but the mysterious country and politics of Erebor begin to unravel. It turns out that Bilbo isn't leaving adventure behind, after all.

Intertwined

Rated: E. Words: 88k. By: badskippy

After a devastating winter, that took the lives of many Durin's Folk, The Dwarrow of The Blue Mountains forge a treaty with The Hobbits of The Shire ... food in exchange for increased protection. And if an arranged marriage between their King, Thrain, and one of the grandchildren of The Shire's Thain, is required to seal the deal, then the Dwarf-king will do what it takes.

However, crown-prince Thorin Oakenshield isn't totally convinced that the Hobbits can be trusted and he sets out to find the truth behind this so-called, 'Good-Will Treaty', and the miserable mite of a Hobbit that would agree to a loveless marriage.

Come what may, Thorin is determined to find out what tricks and deceptions this ... Bilbo Baggins has up his sleeve.

[convxction]

SHIPPING INFO. answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

what’s your OTP for your muse(s)?

self love. jk. tbh i love all possible spouses for c.hrom because each of them is unique and adds to his personality and life. away from canons, i love my friends' ocs who are in relationship with him Rebecca, Takako, Lacie, Robin and Eira. My precious <3

what are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

Almost everything? I don't mind exploring any situation and plotline. I love exploring things, especially if it makes things semi realistic, as possible, not the uwu boy meets girl and now kiss~ nah fam.

how large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

This is kind of question that gets you roll eyes no matter what you answer lmao. Personally, between 10 or 12 years as long as one of the parties are in the 20+. tbh i find some age gaps like 20 are cool to explore if the other is "old" and tired of life and suddenly upbeat and lively person be like hewo do you want to love life again? thats kind of cute the vibe of giving someone's life colors again. anyway yeah. as long as things make sense and legal lol

are you selective when shipping?

Honhon yeah. i no longer entertain everyone because I used to think everyone is fun and willing to write fun things and explore ideas and not just the 'imma book this muse ehe~' and bail out on me haha. we gotta have that telepathy moment lol. so yeah i want the good time not just booking muses so i can have their names in my relationship page like some sort of badge or achievement. dont get me wrong i understand what burnt out means. i dont want to control my partners' lives lmao. just be ...my friend too??? not just oh i lost interest in my muse, i will now proceed to ignore you. and yes it happened. a lot. and it is very annoying. ANYway, communication then communication then communication then just having fun. thats the key, yes.

how far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW?

asking the person who sucks at writing it but uuuuuuuuh. when someone starts sliding dem fingers down the other's clothes and proceed to undress them. yep.

does one have to ask to ship with you?

I mean thats the way? unless you can say all the dwarven rules lmao then ask permission haha. jk. or is it? yeah i think of myself as friendly as a moogle. you are welcome to state your wish and we'll see if things can work out or not~

how often do you like to ship?

idk what to say 'how often'??? whenever a spark happens im not gonna shy away from trying out the ship. if it works then yey if it doesnt then thats a new exp for the both of us. and lets be real sometimes they can become the best of friends and it warms my heart to see we can still make out something in the end. HEY! even if they turn out to be rivals or heck enemies! thats kiss chef too dont think i dont support these relationships. i looooooooooove them.

are you multiship?

I guess so. I tried one time to make it a single blog and it was a painful experience when you pour all your heart into this ship that you missed potentially fun and interesting ships because you want to be loyal and then you get abandoned on a drop of a hat ahahahaaha. But yeah, I am not though I want to keep it single ship per muse portrayal. I won't ship with the same muse UNLESS all parties are ok but first and foremost your portrayal is different and gives new meaning for their relationship. i'm not here to horde everyone. been there saw that happened i dont want to do the same to others. its not nice feeling.

are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

im here begging on my knees for people to befriend chr.om and not just ship wise but any sort of relationship. i dont want my blog to be ship centric anymore. i want FUN AND INTERESTING AND ANGSTY AND FLUFFY AND MIND BLOWING THINGS TO HAPPEN IN HERE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

what is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

a couple years ago id yell c.hrobinnnnn! now im too old for this war so forever and always ... Chrom and Shepherd pie. ask alm about it. jk. currently?? i dont have a preferred ship over the other; as i said above, i love them all. they each add something interesting about chr.om. tho in general i'd say ultimate ship is krumb and becca <3 we have built a lot over the years so basically it is kind of main ship at this point haha. rebecca my beloved <3

finally, how does one ship with you?

100 PUSH UP, 100 KILOMETER RUN GO GO GO. talk to me, really. i dont read minds. if you want to try something go ahead come and say yo what do you think? and i'll tell you lets go. lets see where this can go. but sometimes i know it does not work right from the get go so don't be sad or dejected if i said nah fam it wont work. sankyu kupopopo

tagged by: @gamenu [sankyuuuuuuu <3]

tagging: @isaaccecilbryant , @wayward-sword , @pieman1112 , @toestalucia +akira and anyone else if you wanna rant mwah <3, @psychcdelica (your pick), @dcviated (your pick), @coolrpblog , and you ! i tag you!

[galactia]

art credit.

BIO: Zhongli is a mysterious but amiable man that came to live in Pelican Town fairly recently. Despite the short length of his residence, somehow it feels as if he's always been there.

A man knowledgeable in nearly all things, he works as an assistant curator and librarian at the Museum. Though a man of seemingly modest means, he never seems to lack for what he desires.

The people pf Pelican Town regard him as an oddly sage man, almost too wise for his age, whose good will and ability has taken great strides in expanding their Museum's collections.

HISTORY: Zhongli is a man of unknown origins. If asked where he came from, he'd explain he's from ZuZu City, and detail a brief history of his tenure as a professor of historic art. His deep, soothing baritone would lull nearly any resident to sleep as he rambled off onto the topic of canvas restoration.... all the while his amber eyes staid sharp and focused.

In reality? He is one of the last surviving members of an ancient species - the dragons.

Shifted into a human form for the peace of the humans and for his own survival, he is the final earth dragon in existence in the modern age. While most, if not all, the citizens in Pelican Town would claim that dragons are a myth, a legend, they would only be partially right.

In this current time, yes, dragons are only stories, but there was a bygone era were dragons lived, thrived, and ruled. To this day, their bones can still be found in deep caverns and on high mountains. Their teeth are used as rare commodities in the modern world, and even in ancient times, their pelts were sometimes hunted by the most preeminent of elven and dwarven trackers.

APPEARANCE:

art credit/full aesthetic

Physical: Athletic, lean muscular, tall. Orange eyes, long brown hair with orange tips.

Additional: Sleeve tattoos in black and gold that run up both arms. They bear foreign symbols no one in Pelican Town would know. Glases. Pierced ears.

Clothing: One. Two. Only wears a suit when he is at work. Typically prefers to wear a turtle neck and a coat or jacket, or just a turtle neck. Sharp, pressed, immaculate clothes.

PREFERENCES:

Loves:

Earth Crystal.

Jade.

Pumpkin Soup.

Green Tea.

Likes:

All Minerals.

Roasted Hazelnuts.

Ginger Ale.

Cranberry Sauce.

Blueberry Tart.

Pancakes.

Honey.

Wine

Crocus.

Blue Jazz.

Dislikes:

All Fish.

Maki Roll.

Fish Stew.

Squid Ink Ravioli.

Beer.

Caviar.

Aged Roe.

Void Mayonnaise.

Hate:

Eel.

Fried Eel.

Spicy Eel.

Sashimi.

Shrimp Cocktail.

LIVING ARRANGEMENTS:

A Chinese-style cottage set back from the Museum, on the hill just above. It is in need of renovations, which Zhongli is slowly personally seeing to and commissioning Robin to complete.

[lady-of-the-spirit]

You've been isekai'd to the fictional world of what you last played, read or watched (whatever was the most recent option)…what was it, would you survive and what would you do in it?

I was reading Lord of the Rings...

The boring answer is, I'll probably just end up living in whatever place I'm closest to. If it's a human civilization, let's hope they don't see me dressed in weird clothes and not knowing anything about the world and think I'm some dark being from Mordor or something. Chances are I'll probably just be living as good a life as I can, just trying to figure out how to survive in Middle Age-esque times. If it's a dwarven kingdom I feel like I'd only survive the way Bilbo does with the dwarves - being hopeless at anything practical but endear them to me with my personality. Elves? They've already adopted one weird human (Aragorn) what's another? Hobbits? They'd probably give me directions to Bree and send me off with a wave, don't want any Big Folk Funny Business in the Shire, do we?

BUT if consider the possibility that a general rule is "We found an abandoned person who doesn't know anybody or anything, let's bring them to the palace, they'll know what to do with them", there's a possibility I'll end up living a royal lifestyle and ideally having some sort of courtly romance (minus the Shire because as stated they're not dealing with me). And luckily, every option has either a character I'd happily hook up with or the possibility of a good hook up. Or be best friends with, or both, but only time will tell. Imminent war and destruction is constantly looming overhead so who knows what'll happen to be then.

If I'm living a true isekai story life, though, no matter what happens, I'll end up in the Fellowship in one way or another, and then my chances of survival will go down. Or increase, because story rules means I'll survive if there's not a narrative purpose for me to die. And because they've already agreed to deal with Hobbits, one more kinda useless person on the team isn't THAT much to deal with. Boromir, teach me to use a sword, please.

[tathrin]

🎤—Describe the opening scene

Hmm, I have several stories in progress right now, so let's see which one to pick for this...I think And His Hands Ran With Gold And Shadow, because I think that's the one I have going right now that would need the most changes from the way the opening scene is written to how it would best be filmed.

We would start the scene sort of the way The Two Towers does, with a long pan-in across Middle-earth, perhaps starting on the Anduin and then scanning across the dark trees of Mirkwood, over Dale, slowly closing in on the Lonely Mountain.

There would be faint voice-overs from some of the familiar lines we all know and remember, sometimes mingling together half-heard and sometimes crisp and clear, slowly getting louder as we get closer to the Mountain and to the moment of divergence, until at last we reach new lines, a changed scene that we do not see, but we can hear, and infer, and shudder at...

Galadriel: I amar prestar aen...

Elrond: I was there, Gandalf. I was there the day the strength of Man failed...

Frodo: I will do it. I will take the Ring.

Boromir: It is a gift...a gift to the foes of Mordor.

Galadriel: But they were all of them deceived...

Aragorn: Boromir. Give the Ring to Frodo.

Boromir: Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king.

Gandalf: All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us...

Elrond: Evil was allowed to endure.

Boromir: Why do you recoil? I am no thief.

Frodo: You are not yourself.

Boromir: What chance do you think you have? They will find you. They will take the Ring. And you will beg for death before the end!

Elrond: The line of kings is broken. There is no strength left in the world of Men.

Boromir: I see your mind! You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us!

Galadriel: And into this Ring he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life.

Boromir: It is not yours, save by unhappy chance. It could have been mine. It should be mine! Give it to me!

Frodo: No! Let go! Let me go! Noooo!

(sounds of a scuffle; a scream in Frodo's voice; panting breaths; frantic footsteps on crackling underbrush; silence)

Aragorn: Frodo? Frodo!

Samwise: Mister Frodo, no! Look, Strider, he's still breathing! Oh, hurry, he's still breathing...

Aragorn: But Boromir, where is Boromir?

Samwise: Strider, please! (sounds of someone dropping to the ground; rustling cloth; a moan.) Frodo: The Ring...Aragorn, he has taken the Ring. Forgive me, I could not stop him. Boromir has taken the Ring...

Denethor: And so my son returns to the White City at last!

Boromir: Father, I bring you a mighty gift.

Denethor: Can this be? The One Ring—Sauron's Master Ring?

Boromir: Yes, father. Isildur's Ring, returned to Gondor at last.

Denethor: And Gondor will make good use of such a gift, my son...

Galadriel: One Ring to rule them all...

And on Galadriel's last words, the camera swoops down through the enormous double-doors of the Lonely Mountain and inside to the great hall, tall and shadowed and lit by crystal lamps that are not quite numerous enough to drive away the gloom that hangs in the corners of the tall ceiling and around the wide pillars that hold up the weight of the mountain.

On the throne in the center of the hall sits Gimli, dressed so regally that we can barely recognize him, with heavy beads of gold and gems braided in his beard but, crucially, no crown upon his bare head. A few other dwarves mill around, some by the throne and others lining the walls; it is clear that court is being held, but that it is an ordinary day of no especial significance. Perhaps a few proposals or orders are issued as we pan in for some establishing flavor; their specific content does not matter, because the focus of the scene will be on the slight scuffle by the door as the dwarven guards step aside to admit a handful of ragged, filthy, half-starved looking Men from Dale who drag in four struggling, bloody, wounded elves draped in heavy chains. The Men shove the elves to their knees before the throne, a line of dwarven guards in front of them with others gathered close behind; there will be trouble, and no escape, from either the prisoners or their captors.

Gimli looks bored—a cover for his misery—barely interested, until...he sits up a little in his chair, a look of horror growing behind his beard as the camera draws in closer to him. Then we switch to see the elves he is staring at, three of them with dark hair and one of the two in the middle a pale golden-blonde. Cut back to Gimli, who is gripping the arm of his throne with one white-knuckled hand, on which rests a heavy golden Ring adorned with a thick gem that catches the light and glimmers brighter even than the crystal lamps.

Gimli whispers so quietly that the audience can believe that none of the dwarves are standing near enough to hear him: Not like this. He closes his eyes, swallowing hard as though to fight back tears.

All the elves kneel, some struggling slightly and some staying stoically still, and their heads are bowed, but as Gimli stares and as the camera of his eyeline pans in closer, focusing in on the blonde one, his head comes up and the audience can see Legolas's face, streaked with blood. There is no recognition in his cold eyes as he stares back at the dwarf on the throne.

"A fine tribute," Gimli says, his voice ringing out strong but hollow in the echoing hall. "Tell the Men of Dale that they have earned their people four months of triple rations in addition to the gold-price on the heads of these elves."

The bedraggled Men lift their heads, grinning with joy and relief. Dwarven guards step forwards to take charge of the prisoners and the Dale Men back away, murmuring gratitude to the Lord of the Mountain for his generosity. Some of the dwarves stare at the elves through narrowed eyes; others eye the Dalemen with either pity or distaste. Some confer quietly among themselves, so used to these sort of things that they aren't even worth watching any longer. A few (one of whom we will later meet as Mólin; it is important that he be seen to be part of this scene, although he should not have too much focus put on him yet, to telegraph ahead of time that he is a Notable Character) watch Gimli closely, curiosity or suspicion glittering sharply in their eyes.

"Have the elves taken to the cages," Gimli announces, in his bold and hollow ruler's voice. Then his regal tones break a little, and he says, "Except — except for the golden-haired one."

Legolas's head snaps up, but there is still no recognition in his expression; just a sort of sad, smoldering anger and resignation. The other elves glance at him, then away again, the same grim looks on their bloody faces. One of them snarls at a dwarf who holds her arm, but can do no more than that with the heavy chains around her wrists and ankles and solid dwarven hands holding her tight.

"Take that one to my chambers," Gimli commands, his head thrown back and his voice ringing out boldly across the stone. He curls his lips into a cruel smile that does not reach his eyes. "I will see to his breaking personally."

The elves are dragged away, some struggling and some stoic, by their dwarven captors; Legolas is separated from the others. He holds his head high, his face blank, and does not look back, although two of them turn with miserable frowns to stare at him as they are pulled through different doors.

The Ring on Gimli's hand glitters in a close-up. His fingers are curled into a tight fist.

"Oh," Gimli says, making his voice light, "and heat water for a bath as well; the elf is all-over filthy with blood, and I will not have him defiling my rooms any more than can be helped."

Several dwarves chuckle with varying degrees of sincerity (Mólin is not one of them). Gimli holds his smile long enough for all the elves to be pulled away through the doors that lead deeper into the Mountain.

Then his smile fades to a bleak look of horror and he sinks down heavily into his throne.

We close-up on the Ring again, and see blood dripping from his hand from where he has gripped it so hard that the band has bitten through his skin and broken it.

Then we end with a long-shot of Gimli on the throne in the shadows, the other dwarves at a bit of a distance now and out of focus and looking to their own conversations, leaving him looking very very alone.

End Scene.

Technically I suppose it still opens the same, after the opening...but because we're doing a canon-divergent AU, I think it works best to establish what the divergence actually is, in broad-strokes at least, before the story itself starts. And since TTT has already established this style of opening with voice-over exposition/reminders, it seems the best way to go about it here too I think.

Granted, we could ostensibly actually cut in to show some of those scenes here too, the way they do with Gandalf battling the balrog...but I think it's stronger if we don't actually show anything in this case. Also because we don't want to then segue into Gimli having a dream or flashback, so the cut would be somewhat awkward — but also I just think it's got more weight, in this case, without actually being able to see what happened.

Just make everyone listen to some familiar lines, and then gradually realize that that part isn't the same, oh no...

[attractthecrows]

Fun facts about my bitches OCs while i wait for my ibuprofen to kick in

- Laure's childhood name was Laurel; she'd have grown up to be Lady Laurel Amell if not for her magic, probably married off to some noble in Starkhaven. The L at the end got dropped when she transferred to Kinloch during the same incident that turned her hair white (Jowan accidentally smashed a bottle of lyrium potion over her head before she'd managed to introduce herself. the templars that escorted her didn't care to learn her name and between the blood and the lyrium the label on her clothing was obscured so they- Greagoir, Irving, and Wynne- didn't know her name for sure, and guessed at "Laure". when she awoke with white hair she embraced the new name as part of a new start.)

- Laure went temporarily nonverbal from the trauma of being torn from her childhood home, and the apprentice's quarters were heavily overcrowded, so the enchanters at the Gallows in Kirkwall just passed her from enchanter to enchanter until room opened up somewhere or the first enchanter decided to do something else with her. Orsino, not yet first enchanter at the time, was the first to get her to talk and the one she warmed up to the most until her transfer to Kinloch.

- Laure always had a certain fondness for Cullen, but she resents Templars, and thus just outright never trusted him (or any who wear the uniform). She regards him as a well-meaning idiot with great capacity for harm. Like a pitbull. She also knows about his crush on her, and is not above using that to her advantage.

- Laure has a knack for picking up languages, but tends to have book-taught pronunciation issues until corrected. she is conversational in Dwarven, Tevene, and Ander, and was beginning to pick up Qunlat from Sten by the end of the Blight. Velanna has taught her some elvish, and she's learned quite a bit of Antivan from Zevran. (as a result, her personal notes and journals are almost indecipherable. rather than a code, she uses a mix of different language vocabularies and grammar rules, picking and choosing which to combine on a whim and even using different forms of shorthand.)

- Aiona and Revallen may or may not have another sibling they don't know about via the Arlathvhen orgies that I decided definitely happen. their father was very popular.

- part of why Revallen refuses to wear clothes is that, as a pyromancer, he naturally has a higher body temperature. another part is that his full-body vallaslin acts as a mana channeling system; as his mana runs hot, when it's amplified, it increases in temperature, meaning his vallaslin can burn his clothes if he's not careful (even as a keeper he didn't cover more than he had to. even for pyromancers too much heat can be unpleasant) (this does in fact mean he hasn't worn tight clothes or regular shirts since he was 16. up until inquisition forced him to)

- Revallen is a complete flirt but also somewhat oblivious as to how flirty he actually comes across; he's not trying to be deceptive, mind, he's just usually preoccupied with something else. He loved Ilithra deeply for years, and loved spending time with her; he was still stunned into comical silence when she finally broke the tension and kissed him. Same thing with Dorian; he loved the flirting and teasing but it didn't occur to him to expect more until Dorian finally had enough and they were making out in the library all of a sudden. In short, Revallen has a type, and that is "smart enough to realize that I'm too stupid to make the first move".

[shantismurf]

It's canon that Bilbo spent part of the 17 years between his 111th birthday party and when Frodo arrived in Rivendell traveling with several Dwarven companions. In "Fellowship" it says in that time he went to Dale, but "old Balin had gone away" and he came back to Rivendell.

When he had left Hobbiton he had wandered off aimlessly, along the Road or in the country on either side; but somehow he had steered all the time towards Rivendell. ‘I got here without much adventure,’ he said, ‘and after a rest I went on with the dwarves to Dale: my last journey. I shan’t travel again. Old Balin had gone away. Then I came back here, and here I have been.'

Later after the ring was gone he wanted to go to Gondor for Aragon's wedding, but was too tired. 😭In his typical Bilbo way, he made light of it, saying:

'I was invited to the wedding of course,' he said. 'And I have waited for it long enough. But somehow, when it came to it, I found I had so much to do here; and packing is such a bother.'

BTW, Tolkien only refers to it as Dale, but from what I can gather, Tolkien referred to the city on and within the mountain all as called Dale, and only used the word "Erebor" 25 times and ONLY in the LotR series. Yes, "Erebor" never appears in The Hobbit.

I geeked out on this a little while back. Here are my notes:

Glóin began then to talk of the works of his people, telling Frodo about their great labours in Dale and under the Mountain. ‘We have done well,’ he said. ‘But in metal-work we cannot rival our fathers, many of whose secrets are lost. We make good armour and keen swords, but we cannot again make mail or blade to match those that were made before the dragon came. Only in mining and building have we surpassed the old days. You should see the waterways of Dale, Frodo, and the fountains, and the pools! You should see the stone-paved roads of many colours! And the halls and cavernous streets under the earth with arches carved like trees; and the terraces and towers upon the Mountain’s sides! Then you would see that we have not been idle.’

The word Erebor does not appear in The Hobbit...

Dale, tH: 39 times, LotR: 60 times

Erebor, tH: 0 times, LotR: 25 times

Lonely Mountain, tH: 13 times, LotR: 9 times

Lake-Town, tH: 16 times, LotR: 0 times

Esgaroth, tH 10 times, LotR: 5 times

Iron Hills, tH: 9, LotR: 5

'One explanation could be that Tolkien used plain language for places in the Hobbit because one, it was a kids book, and two, he hadn't invented the languages yet."

- From: https://co-geeking.com/2019/05/20/behind-the-name-erebor

So it seems there's part underground and part above ground. The Men of Dale are called "Bardings" and ruled by Bard's descendants. And Dáin is King Under the Mountain. But it's all Dale...When Glóin is talking about "their great labours in Dale and under the Mountain." There's clearly some separation, but it's unclear how.

Anyway, you asked about Bilbo!

I always just assumed the dwarves he traveled with were Company members but check this out! On the Tolkien Gateway they have a very detailed synopsis of The Return of the Shadow: The History of The Lord of the Rings and in one of Tolkien's drafts it has this ("Bingo" was Frodo's name at one point):

The details of what Bilbo did after vanishing were now added. He changes his clothes and puts a bulky envelope with the Ring inside on the mantelpiece, marked 'Bingo'. He calls for the Dwarves who will accompany him, Nar, Anar, and Hannar (a fourth Dwarf, Lofar, is left behind to make sure Bingo gets the envelope). Bilbo gets to the bottom of the Hill before he encounters Gandalf. Gandalf is alarmed that Bilbo would be so careless about the Ring with Otho and Lobelia nearby. Bilbo fancies that Bingo will come back to Bag End first. Gandalf asks Bilbo where he is going and he is not sure.

It does seem from what Bilbo told Frodo that some of these same dwarves went on with him to Dale, as he said: "after a rest I went on with the dwarves to Dale." They came to the Shire in the first place to deliver the toys from Dale that Bilbo gave out as birthday presents:

An odd-looking waggon laden with odd-looking packages rolled into Hobbiton one evening and toiled up the Hill to Bag End. The startled hobbits peered out of lamplit doors to gape at it. It was driven by outlandish folk, singing strange songs: dwarves with long beards and deep hoods. A few of them remained at Bag End.

In addition to all this, in the years before his 111th, and likely before he adopted Frodo, Bilbo was known to disappear from the Shire from time to time, only to return home accompanied by Dwarves. Who knows what that was all about. 🤷🏼‍♀️

So, answer is yes, and thank you for coming to my rather shabby Ted Talk 😅

[the-dragonthief-passages]

6th of Heartfire, 4E 201

I took off from the farm after some breakfast. It was a fairly straight shot from Sarethi Farm to the Imperial Camp in the Rift. To no one's surprise, a Dark Brotherhood assassin attacked me on the road. Nothing new. As soon as I got to the camp, she sent me to Riften to get evidence of Anuriel, the stewardess, having connections with the Thieves Guild. The irony of a thief exposing someone's connection to a guild full of them.

After passing through Heartwood Mill, I came across Merryfair farm run by Dravin Llanith, who's bow was stolen by a thief in the Ratway under Riften. I agreed to get it for him.

I sold some stuff to the Khajiit caravan just outside the gate, then tried to walk in. The guard tried to make me pay some phony "visitor's tax" and I called him out. I'm liking this city already. I stepped inside, and a man named Maul confronted me right away interrogating me. He also told me that he can get dirt on anyone, and I told him I'm not exactly clean myself. He filled me in on whatever I asked, and I continued on.

I watched a little argument between a woman named Sapphire and Shadr the stable hand. According to what I heard, Shadr had a shipment with his repayment to Sapphire robbed on the road, and she was the one to take it (I think). I agreed to help him pay off the debt. But first, I wanted to speak to Brynjolf about the Thieves Guild.

As soon as I got close to him, he could tell right away that I'm always up to no good. He asked me for help with a job: stealing Madesi's silver ring from his stand, and planting it on Brand-Shei to frame him. It was perfect. I agreed right away. Once he started his distraction, I got to work. I unlocked the stand door, then the strongbox, and grabbed everything inside. Since Brynjolf had everyone distracted, I decided to rob the next stand over too. After that, I planted the ring on him without hesitation. Brynjolf wrapped up his distraction as soon as I did.

He said it was surprised it went so well considering how things had been going for him and his organization. "Bad luck," he told me. He also told me to locate him and his crew in the Ratway's Ragged Flagon if I was considering joining them. And trust me, I was. I did a little more looting in the marketplace before heading down to the Ratway.

There were two idiots at the entrance that I took down without issue. I kept going further and further in, cutting through the stragglers down in the sewers. It wasn't any trouble getting down to the Flagon. He was bragging about me to the others. He spoke to me about getting some debts from shop owners who've refused to pay. I told him I'd get it done, for a cut. I had to hurry, though, with how close to closing time it had gotten.

I headed to Bersi Honey-Hand first. He was stubborn. He wasn't going to listen to words, so I followed Brynjolfs advice: I destroyed his tacky Dwarven urn. He turned around real quick. Dibella-obsessed Haelga was next. She was rather sour as well, so I took her precious statue to teach her a lesson. She folded like cloth. I didn't even have to do anything once I got to Keerava. She just handed it over with her tail between her legs. I even bought some stolen Black-Briar Mead from Romlyn Dreth.

After I handed over the debts to Brynjolf, he gave me some potions as a reward. I asked about the guild not doing well, and he told me not to worry about it, it's just a rough patch. He then had me follow him to the back, where there was a secret entrance in a cupboard to the guild's very center: the Cistern.

This is where I met Mercer Frey, who explained the very basic rules of the guild. Then they immediately started talking about a job at Goldenglow Estate. After that, they welcomed me to the guild. Brynjolf told me about the job: burn three of the estate's hives, clear out the safes, and get out alive. He said if Aringoth tries to stop me, I can kill him. Vex and Delvin could tell me more, and Tonilia has a set of armor ready for me.

Vex is the infiltrator of the guild, and she hands out break-in jobs like robberies. She told me there was a secret back way through the sewers under the estate. I went ahead and took a sweep job from her before finishing up that conversation. Clan Shatter-Shield has some valuables worth taking. I'll grab those on my way to or from Windhelm.

Next was Delvin Mallory, who's convinced the guild is cursed by some higher power. He's good with sneaking in general, and he deals with personal jobs like forging ledgers. All he could tell me about Goldenglow is that the mercenaries Aringoth hired are trained killers. I took up a bedlam job in Solitude for him.

After that, I got my armor from the lovely Tonilia. She's a fence, perfect for selling all the little goodies I've been taking before the guild. I got my armor from her, and sold some goods to her. The guild armor is even better than my old stuff. Never going back to that mismatched shit again. A real breath of fresh air. I got some supper from Vekel the Man, then went to lay down.

The more I'm with the Thieves Guild, the more comfortable I'm getting. I'm definitely going to fit in here.

[reptileranting]

Mijira, Chapter 8 - Justice is delivered

The cultists had arrayed themselves in the shape of several small triskelions forming into a larger one collectively. Their sacrificial victim was tied up in the midst of this spiral, struggling helplessly. Their dark dance changed directions frequently as they chanted ancient hymns from tomes profane and forbidden. So vile were these tomes that the desks and shelves they were stored on had to be replaced time after time, as their innate hatred for reality cracked and chipped whatever furniture it was rested on. 

Now these monstrous words caused victim and kidnappers alike to bleed from nose, ears and mouth, the heads of the weak willed ones twitching, salivating and foaming as madness tried to overtake them. Runes appeared all over the darkened stone of the cave. They praised their master, a dark shadow from behind reality, who came to twist and plunder this realm. Satisfied, the cult leader then raised his hood.

“Alright you all, great work. Let’s patch each other up and grab a beer until we feel comfortable with taking it a little deeper next time. Don’t forget to muzzle the drakeling!” Widespread cheers and applause resounded as friends ran over to each other, to see if everyone was doing alright. 

After a short pause of mutual care, they ascended winding passages where the faces of their previous victims were transmogrified into agonized monuments to their lord’s glory down into the drinking cave. There the veterans, frail from taxing rituals, had already poured stone mugs to the brim with rum won from distilling the underground beets. The large and plentiful jugs of merriness made the go around, a welcome reprieve from the monotony of mushroom, beet and beetle stews.

It didn’t take long for friendly chatter to erupt. They envisioned their place under the glorious shadow’s rule, kept up on gossip and joked about the recent trends, until finally, the songs every dwarf knew from the rock concerts broke out, echoing perhaps more dissonant but still carried the beauty of dwarven skill, pride and most importantly, community with them.

And suddenly, the square table was flipped over- directly over the head of the cult leader, whose remains splattered over the gathered dwarves. Panic and shock filled what moments before had been a place of merry. Mijira, armored to the best of her abilities, stood in the midst of the crowd. Before they could process what happened, a sword cleaved the two acolytes next to the master and their bodies tumbled to the ground. The dragon rammed the sword into a hero who, fast on his feet, jumped her from behind. 

Some dwarves fled on the spot, others reached for the weapons and the youngest stood there bedazzled. The monster did not wait. It grabbed the large jug of rum nearby and breathed fire out. The dwarves who took too long to act were lit aflame like squat candles in a stormy night. Mijira jumped behind the burning obstacles and crammed stolen cloth into the jug, before taking some of the flame the dwarves offered.

As a spark rose from the jug, she threw it to the newly armed dwarves that stormed at her with fearful anger. Mortified yelps of terror and tears mixed with the stench of burning hair, booze and fat, forcing her to cough. She couldn’t stay here. And the drakeling was below, anyway. Wrestling her sword from the corpse, she retreated downwards, but the few cultists who still followed her did not prove no match, armed with neither protection nor skill.

The scent, heightened by increased fear and stress, was getting ever stronger. It wasn’t long until her hurried pace brought her to the cave and it’s arcane altar. Her nostrils wrinkled at the sight of the occult magic, but she did not stop to ponder it’s designs. Seeing the drakeling bound at the obsidian altar, she lifted him up and severed the ropes holding him with a snap of her jaw, then threw the the muzzle off. The glyhps receded. “Mijira’s apologies. It usually goes smoother. You know where your stuff is?” The bard nodded. “Good” But as she put him down, he remained still.”What do you want from Mijira?”

“I heard the screaming. Saw what you did at the tavern. Why did you fight and kill for me? I don’t have anything to offer. Not really.”

The big reptile remained silent for a moment. “Mijira likes art. Mijira likes to plunder from those rich she can rob with no repercussions. More isn’t to it. Now run, before they get you. Again. Mijira could scare them off, but these are too many and this is their home. Cave up, left exit, there is a river running that goes away from them.”

Wasting no time for empty thanks, the drakeling ran off while Mijira took a pilfered mace to the obsidian altar, smashing it into thousand splinters with wide, repeated swings. Too late did she notice the light coming down from the stairs and the clicking of iron boots. As she turned her head up, a man with blonde hair, white armor and white light closed of the only exit.

Mijira eyed him with great suspicion. “Stranger, you come too late. Mijira has finished and no quarrel with you. Let her go and take what is hers.”

“It is never too late for justice! Vile Dragon, i challenge you to an honorable duel!”

“Save the theatrics. Mijira knows neither honor nor justice. But Mijira fought in self defense, she knows to keep this world. The cultists are dead, their sanctum defiled by my mace.”

“Lies! I sense the evil in you! You are the source of the kingdoms woes, Cult leader! I will hear no more!”

“What woes? Mijira-“

A golden beam of light erupted from the man’s hand. Flying faster than Mijira could react, it pierced straight through her armor and pinned her onto the cave’s walls. Blood exploded from the wound like a volcano, bathing the cave’s walls in red.

“The Godess is with me! Her blessing smites the wicked and avenges the innocent.”

The drake gritted her teeth. She tried to pull the spear out, but touching it burned with a light hotter than fire. She rammed her sword into the ground, and, with no other choice, dragged herself alongside the light’s shaft, raging, clouding, a pain to drive man mad. It was a vain hope. For just as she got free, four more spears rammed into her arms and legs, bone and blood splattering so far, even the paladin’s armor was sprinkled. With another gesture, the man bathed her in a light that burned bright and cruel. Mijra screamed “Enough! You won! I yield.” But the man’s face had grown cold and distant.

“You’ll get as much mercy as you gave, scum!” As her screams turned into a rumbling howl, a grin grew on his face. “I will relent as soon as you cry, reptile. Oh right. Beasts like you can’t. Because you lack a soul. Guess I have to smite one into you.”

And with that, he increased the pain again. Her body, perhaps from an age old instinct taught to her species by the sadist demesians, passed out when it became clear that there was nothing but pain to gain here.

As the monster fell to the ground, the man shook with exhaustion. Activating his full power was sure a lot of work. As his hair returned to normal, he hastened over to the drake. It had been a hard fight, after all. She might be in mortal danger. Indeed, the wounds his spear had wrought were quite deep, despite their merciful nature. Much longer and he wouldn’t have been able to save her. Quickly laying his hands on her, he closed the multiple wounds. From above, the dwarves came in. Worry changed to relief as they saw him over the defeated drake and the man applauded.

“Defeating a drake! Well done, champion! That’s not something you see every day here.” He humbly bowed. “Don’t thank me, thank the gods for giving me the courage to fight.” The dwarves laughed, as the sturdiest, the one who taught their champion, lifted his axe, going towards Mijira with a clear intent in his eye. The human, with some new won confidence, placed his gauntlet on the guard’s shoulders.

“No. We are better than her. She will experience the justice of the law. And just perhaps, learn from example. We must take the moral high ground.”

The dwarf looked at him with a very skeptical glance. “If you say so, sir. But mark my words: This’ll be trouble.”

“If it’s trouble, I can, godess willing, take it.”