#gandalf smoking his pipe and thinking deep thoughts

[katjaschmitt]

Gandalf - sketch for a fan written story

[squwhims]

Joker Out Members Ranked on Their Ability To Aid Someone Bringing a Ring To Mordor

Very niche ranking, but I was cleaning out my google account and remembered that I made a google slide titled, "The List: Fictional Men Who Make Me Kick My Lil Feet Up & Giggle"...number one man on that list being Samwise Gamgee. In that, I made a compare and contrast section and one of the slides is ranking the fictional men on how good they would be at making the journey to Mordor.

Obviously, these guys here are not fictional, so take this with nuance since I am pulling these opinions out of my butt, but I love it when people post their thoughts on Joker Out as (blank), so I will too!

Number One: Nace

Nace definitely has it in him to get someone through this type of situation. This ranking is not based on "physically could he get you to and from Mordor" (because the whole premise of this trip is that a man under 120cm managed to do it), but I do think Nace's strength would be an added bonus. I think that Nace has the best emotional capabilities for this quest. Out of everyone in the band, I feel like he is the most grounded and down to earth member. I think he would have the patience to deal with the emotional toll of the quest, like, it would be difficult to get through, but I feel like he has a very persevering spirit and would be able to survive off of memories of the things he loves back home, and he'd always try his hardest not to make the situation worse with negativity. He's got humility and I don't think he would judge someone for breaking down on the quest. I have no lived proof of him being a safe man, but he seems very safe, you could trust him to guard you while you sleep. He would stay loyal through the whole trek to Mordor and he would tell wonderful stories at the campfire that comfort you and remind you of where you started.

Number Two: Jure

Now, this ranking is based more on "could he physically get you to and from Mordor" because although he doesn't capture the pure-of-heart, patience, down to earth, loyalty that Sam represents, by god...he would plop you down on his motorbike and the trip would take no more than a week. I raised myself the question, "how would he handle the emotional toll though?" and I raise myself the answer: I don't think you'd have time to dwell on the fear and homesickness and dread. I think Jure would be a busy-body on the quest. I think he'd be foraging, cooking, cleaning all the gear, putting unknown plants into his pipe and smoking it just to see what happens, and he'd be climbing EVERYTHING. I simply don't think there would be space in his quest to feel anything. Closer and closer to the doom of Mordor he would be speeding things up. He has the least amount of apparent Sam-like qualities, but this ranking is not called "Joker Out members ranked on their Sam-like qualities", this is based purely on COULD HE GET YOU THERE IN ONE PIECE?! Jure could simply walk into Mordor and that is enough.

Number Three: Bojan

This was a real toss up, because on one hand I feel like he has quite a bit of persevering, mental strength, he is a bit of a silly goose and would be a hoot to travel with...but on the other hand I feel like he is leaning closer to the Frodo side of the spectrum deep down. The quest would start off with high sprits, you know, he'd be leaving home with a smile on his face and pep in his step. He'd be so excited to see the elves and the world and meet new people...but then one bad thing would happen at the start of the second quarter of the quest and he would begin to crack. Gandalf/other mentor figure in this hypothetical situation would die and that would be his breaking point. Working through the emotional toll of the trek would be HARD. Physically, I think he could do it...but mentally...idk man. The guy already gets panic attacks on the regular and I don't think he would be of any help to someone who needed to dispose of a ring in the fires of Mount Doom. Maybe that would be beneficial to the team because he'd be down in the dumps with you despite the fact that YOU are carrying the weight of the world around YOUR neck. So idk, we're all in this together? I'm sure he'd have good moments. He would definitely try his best to stay positive.

Number Four: Jan

Too Frodo coded to aid someone on their quest to Mordor. I'm not saying this to wimpify Jan, because physically, I do think he would be capable— really, the quest is just a long walk in the woods, so I feel like he would start the quest off doing fine. Sight-seeing with a cane in his hand: delightful. It would be a very quiet quest, but he'd be present. However, I feel like the pressure of getting to Mordor would be weighing on him the whole time. I don't think he is built to carry that much weight in his heart all alone. The fate of the world resting on his shoulders? He's gotta get his buddy across the world and through countless dangers? Doesn't know if either of them will survive? Once you start, there is no going back? Yeah, no. I don't think Jan is built to play the Sam role on this quest. He is Frodo. Someone is gonna need to be there to pick him up when he falls face-first into a bog due to lack of will to live and cut him free from spiderwebs and shit.

Number Five: Kris

Gonna be honest, I don't think Kris would have went on this quest. If Gandalf told him he had to go with Frodo I think that Kris would have said no. He has assessed all the potential dangers of the quest, he doesn't have anything to prove, he doesn't even really like Frodo that much; he would say no to going. Of course, it is mandatory that he goes and he gets forced into going. I think that Kris would have a good time with the elves, his brothers and sisters in height. Yeah, he'd have a great time with them. You'd be on your deathbed getting healed after being stabbed and Kris would be getting philosophical with the elves, learning archery and shit. He'd be feeling pretty good after that and more at ease going on the quest, but I don't think he would really care about you. Like he doesn't want you to die (because that would mean that now he'd need to hold onto the ring) but he decided a long time ago that he is working through his emotions on his own, and you are working on yours alone. Not a bad quest buddy if you are stoic. This sounds really mean, I don't mean to be mean!! He'd make a really great Legolas!

[littlemessyjessi]

"Going On An Adventure": Chapter Two of the Thorin Oakenshield story "Treasure of the Wild"

"Treasure of the Wild" :  Goin On An Adventure     : Chapter Two: 

A Thorin Oakenshield Story 

Warnings:  This is a re-imagining The Hobbit, which of course I do not own.  The only thing I own is Fawn and her invidual story and such.  That being said, it takes place in Middle Earth which is gritty and slightly traumatizing in and of itself.   So there's that warning.   

. 

The first rays of light had yet to grace the Shire when Fawn arose. 

The sky outside was still an inky sort of blue as she gathered her dressing gown around her. 

With a heavy sigh, she opened the door and stepped into the night, settling down onto the bench to smoke her pipe. 

Last night after she'd departed to bed, she'd had a good cry over the words exchanged with her brother and then set about packing. 

She'd laid her clothes across the wooden trunk at the end of her bed and had a fitful sleep. 

Excitement had bubbled inside her, of course; what with the unknown possibilties dangling in front of her like she were horse and it some prized carrot. 

But also, she was unsettled by Bilbo's words. 

Did he really mean it? If she left, would she really be barred from returning?

Would her home in Bag End be gone from her? 

Would he really claim her as his family no more? 

Her spiral of misery was interrupted as the door opened drawing her attention. 

Dark hair streaked with rivers of silver that caught the starlight told her exactly who it was before the moon had a chance to light those fiery sapphire eyes. 

He paused at the sight of her, "My apologies, m'lady.  I will wait." 

"Nonsense." she said, scooting over and patting the bench beside her.  "There is plenty of room in Bag End for the both of us and plenty as well on this bench.  Come and smoke your pipe, Master Oakenshield." 

He bowed his head in gratitude as he sat beside her. 

It was silent between them for a moment. 

The only sound being that of the Shire and their exhales of  smoke that spiraled together dancing off into the distance. 

"It's Thorin, by the way." he spoke. 

"Pardon?" she asked, blinking over at him. 

"Thorin." he repeated. "You don't have to call me Master Oakenshield every time.  Just Thorin will do. I never actually got to introduce myself properly before.  Gandalf cut in."  

She nodded, a slight small pulling at her lips, lifting her fluffy cheeks up a bit.

"I suppose he was probably trying to deflate my brother's temper before it got out of hand at the prospect of him defacing our property." she said glancing at him. "Bilbo did, in fact, paint that door a week ago.  If he knew Gandalf went carving into it he'd be set about like a wet hen." 

Thorin chuckled at the image of the hobbit having a right fit. 

"It wouldn't be the first time though." she continued.  "I think I was nearly eight or so when he'd painted it last.  And I, in my obviously clearly superior wisdom at all of eight years old, thought it could do with some additions." 

Thorin lifted a brow for further explanation. 

"I painted daisies on the wet paint with mud." she said. 

Thorin's chest shook as a deep rumbling laugh overcame him and she couldn't help but join him. 

"He did not find it so funny, I assure you." she said. 

"I would've loved to have seen that sight." he admitted. 

"Oh, it was a sight to behold." she said. "He was so cross with me that he didn't speak to me for a day.  I honestly thought he was going to to take me back where he'd found me." 

Thorin's brows furrowed, "Where he fou-" 

He never got the chance to finish that sentence as Gandalf poked his head out the door. 

"We should get a move on.  Make sure everyone has everything.  We need to be on our way at first light." 

Fawn nodded, gathering the skirt of her dressing gown. 

"Coming, Master Oak-" she stopped at his glance. "Thorin.  Are you coming, Thorin?" 

He nodded, "Yes, Miss Bagg-" 

He paused at her own look. 

A smile tugged at his lips as he corrected himself, "Fawn.  Yes, I'm coming." 

The two of them made their way back inside, Thorin making sure to get ahead of her and open the door. 

She gave him a small, sweet smile as she passed him, "Thank you." 

He tilted his head again, those fiery eyes of his following in her wake. 

Fawn returned to her room, fluffy cheeks aflame and a thundering heart to boot. 

Her fingers ghosted over the afghan and she pulled it to her chest for a tight hug. 

"Mother, be with me on this journey.   Please give me strength." she whispered into the night before folding it neatly and laying it over the bed again. 

She thought of taking it, in case Bilbo really meant what he said but chose not to in a silent prayer that maybe he would see it and know that she was only doing what she felt in her heart. 

She turned to her glory box at the end of her bed once more and pulled out the shining dagger that she'd kept hidden for so long. 

Long and silver with strips of black leather around the handle and one shimmering blue stone in the end. 

She held it in her hand once more, the weight of it heavy in her palm.  

It was comforting. 

Another rustle of fabric and she retrieved her other hidden treasures wrapped up in her thatch of fur from long ago. 

She'd long since outgrown the deep blue dress of her youth that her mother had made.   

Cuts of it now served as wrappings for her long dark hair to keep it from her eyes. 

The thatch of fur had been refashioned into a lovely stole that she wore with her winter coat to keep her neck cozy. 

She'd never actually repurposed those silver mountain buttons but chose them to keep them on her at all times.   

A comfort resting in her pockets that she counted when she got overwhelmed or panicked. 

She shook the lingering glimmers of memories past from her mind and gathered the weapons she'd been hiding for years. 

A set of throwing knives, sharp and delicately made to look like feathers.   

An absolutely beautiful hatchet with a handle of ebony wood and shining steel for the blade. 

The carvings were beautiful, geometric and ornate. 

Fawn knew them to be dwarves as all of her small hoard of weapons were. 

She'd purchased them from a dwarrow couple over the years for the short time they resided in Bree. 

Fawn had an affinity for shiny little trinkets in general but she could not deny that her heart beat a bit faster when it came to weaponry. 

She'd always hid them, of course. 

It wasn't very respectable for a hobbit to have weapons of war about in their homes. 

Much less a lady. 

Though, Fawn was not a hobbit and she hardly deemed to call herself a lady with her adventurous and less than respectable tendencies.  

A smile pulled at her lips as she tugged on her best boots. 

A sturdy pair leather boots that had once been dark were now faded gray with a glinting steel cap on each toe. Purchased from that same dwarrow couple a few years back. 

Try as she might, Fawn Baggins was no hobbit and therefore she did, in fact, need shoes. 

Those boots were worth every coin as they had lasted her ten years already and the only sign of age was simply the faded color. 

Soon after she was dressed and pulling her pack behind her. 

Her eyes lingered on that thatch of fur for a moment. 

It was April now with summer approaching but she hadn't really any idea how long she'd be gone or what type of lands she'd been crossing. 

As a last minute decision she snatched it up and tucked it in the sack, if nothing else but for comfort and the memory of her mother's eyes when she'd first brought it home. 

She gently closed her bedroom door and moved into the corridor, her eyes flitting over her childhood home. 

Framed on the wall or various shelves were paintings and sketchings done in her youth. 

Carvings by her father's endless wittling and many a crocheted doily by grandmama. 

She stopped in front of her brother who was currently laid out, having clearly been exhausted from the prior evening's events. 

His curls were a mess and his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks. 

She was going to miss him so much. 

She hoped he wouldn't be too angry with her. 

She leaned down to press the softest of kisses into his curls and whispered, "Please forgive me, brother.  I love you with all my heart.  Keep me in yours with fondness, please." 

The dwarves waiting outside had had no trouble in hearing her but chose not to remark on it. 

Thorin glanced at his closest friend, Dwalin, to see him looking inside with an odd sort of look in his eyes. 

Thorin had seen it before. 

He pitied her and, in truth, so did Thorin. 

Gandalf, stood in the doorway, opened his arm for her, "Come, Fawn.  It is time to go." 

She sniffled softly, looking once more at Bilbo, before she turned and joined them. 

The door closed behind her and she felt the finality of it like a great slam though Gandalf had only eased it shut. 

A chapter had closed in her life and that chapter was Bag End. 

The heaviness sat upon her chest like a great boulder but she charged forward none the less following the Company as they trekked down the small path towards a bunch of grazing ponies. 

Fawn's eyes sparkled at the sight of them, a smile tugging at her lips. 

"Oh, Fawn, dear. I nearly forgot in all of the excitement last night." Gandalf said drawing her attention. "But I have something for you." 

He stepped aside revealing an absolutely magnificent, gray horse with a patch of white coating part of it's neck and face and there, right across the patch, it was spotted with an expolsion of dark spots. 

Fawn gasped, "Gandalf, how beautiful!" 

The wizard chuckled. 

"Well, the two of you seem to share a marking." he said gesturing to the dots all over her face.  "And when I saw, I just knew you were meant for one another." "What's his name?" she whispered, slowly moving forward.

"Her name is Constellation." Gandalf said in that mystical way of his.  "For the many stars who have graced her." 

"Constellation." Fawn whispered, gently petting the creature and practically vibrating with pure excitement. "Connie, for short." 

Laughter bubbled up around her but Fawn's eyes were for Connie and Connie alone. 

"As I said, I meant to gift her last night for your birthday but time completely got away from me." he said which caused an absolute uproar from the dwarves. 

"Birthday?!"  "What do you mean it was your birthday?" "Why didn't you say anything?" "You should've told us!" 

"Well, we had only just met." Fawn said gently.  "I was just happy to have guests.  You all made my birthday a very merry evening.  I will be forever grateful for the joy you have brought me." 

"Aye, lass but if we'd known we might've-" Dwalin began. 

"You might've gone away in some absurd act of being polite and while I appreciate the sentiment… I would've been very sad.  I much more enjoyed the alternative.  I haven't celebrated my birthday truly since mother's passing and the gathering we had last night would've pleased her greatly.  She was the life of the party.  She would have absolutely adored each and every one of you." Fawn said kindly but to the point.  

 "And furthermore," she said as she swung herself up onto Connie. "Belladonna Took would've taken great pride in the fact that her home was the meeting place for The Company of Thorin Oakenshield to discuss this great quest to reclaim Erebor and slay that dirty old slug, Smaug." 

The dwarves chuckled at her attitude though Gandalf had to agree, "Tis true.  If Belladonna were still here, she would've been the first to sign the contract to go, no doubt dragging blustering old Bungo along with her." 

"Exactly." said Fawn. "So I don't want to hear another word about it.  It was a lovely gathering and I thank you all of for attending the birthday party that I did not plan but am, in fact, very grateful for.  When we reach Erebor, I shall make you all a cake in gratitude." 

"Well, if it's the seed cakes then I will hold you to it, lass." Dwalin said, a mischevious twinkle in his eye. 

She grinned at him, fluffy cheeks pushing her eyes up into little half moons. 

Thorin said nothing through the whole ordeal but instead chose to just stare at her with her dark sheet of hair twisted into a knot at the back of her head and her pillowy, plump body and her pretty soft cheeks. 

And her absolutely lovely eyes that glittered like topaz.  

Fawn Baggins was a vision to Thorin Oakenshield. 

A vision he very much could not afford to have cloud his own. 

However, he couldn't truly say that he minded.

The Company set out and Fawn eventually ended up between Fili and Kili, the young heirs. 

"So Fawn." Kili began, gathering her attention. 

"Yes, dear?" she asked, glancing at the dark haired prince…. who immediately blushed at both the attention and term of endearment. 

"Those are some rather nice boots you've got there." he commented. 

"Aye, they look dwarven in make." Fili piped up, drawing her attention to the blond. 

"Thank you." she said with a proud little grin. "They are.  There used to the loveliest dwarrow couple who lived in Bree for a short time.  Just the sweetest people.  Fonel made such beautiful things and when it was time for a new pair of shoes, I knew exactly who I was seeing.  Her husband, Vren, worked as a blacksmith.  He made the loveliest things.  Oh, you should've seen it.  I could've spent all my time in that forge!" 

"Truly?" Kili asked, easily catching her rather contagious excitement. 

"Truly!" she grinned and reached down to draw her dagger. "This little beauty right here is the very first piece I ever got from him.  Fonel and Vren gave it to me as a gift for Yule one year." 

Fili reached forward, "May I?" 

She handed it over and his eyes grew taking in the blade, "This is quite the gift and if a dwarrow gave it to you as a gift you should be rest assured that they thought very highly of you, Miss Fawn." 

Her eyes glimmered with tears, "I thought very highly of them as well.  They made my little adventures to Bree a very pleasant time.  They were like family.   I miss them terribly." 

"Miss them? Are they not still in Bree?" Kili asked. 

Fawn shook her head, "No, they were only there for a few years.  Vren said they were moving towards the Ironhills in search of some of their kin.  Said they had a new pebble to take care of.  I later found out that pebble means a baby.  Which is highly adorable and I love it so much that should I ever decide to have a child, I will most certainly and without fail be referring to them as a pebble.  And I don't care what anyone says." 

There was a collective chuckle as her sassy vehemenent insistence on the matter. 

"But in any matter, apparently Vren's sister would need as much help as she could get with the little one and so they were going to help." she said. "Which, of course, I do understand.  Babies are such clumsy, accident prone little things but oh how sweet and precious they are." 

Thorin, at the head of the group, looked forward but could not help the smile at tugged at his lips listening to her gushing over little ones. 

"I do hope to see them again someday though.  I miss them something fierce and, of course, it wouldn't exactly hurt my feelings to see this cute little pebble that they left for."  she said, a mischevious little giggle escaping her at the thought. 

"Babies are cute." Kili admittedly. "Clumsy, yes. But cute nonetheless." 

"'Cept you." Fili teased his brother.  "You looked like a troll." 

"Oi!" Kili said, throwing his boot at this brother who only laughed and caught it before it could connect. 

"Aw, Fili." Fawn laughed. "How mean.  Kili, I'll bet that you were a positively adorable little pebble.  What?  With you big dark eyes? Sparkly little puppy eyes are dangerous.  I bet you got whatever you wanted!" 

"Aye, he did actually." Fili admitted.  "I was there." 

"I doubt you were no different." Fawn teased.  "All fluffy blond hair and blue eyes and dimples to boot!  Like a little lion cub, I'm sure.  If I should ever have the opportunity to meet your mother I shall have to commend her for her strength.  I don't know that it something I possess.  I will admit that I am very, very, very weak when it comes to little ones. What did you say her name was again?" 

"Dis." Fili said.  "And when you see Amad, you'll understand how she had absolutely no trouble telling us no. She's a force to be reckoned with." 

"Aye, it's Uncle Thorin who let us get away with everything." Kili added. 

"Oh? Is that so?" 

Thorin rolled his eyes at the positively impish tone to her voice. 

"Those days have long since passed." he said aiming it more towards his nephews than her as he turned to lift a dark brow at them. 

"Oh, I'm sure." she said, a little smirk on her plump lips. 

Thorin narrowed his eyes at her. 

She was teasing and yet… he couldn't find it in him to be upset. 

She looked far too happy in that moment. 

"What about you, Miss Fawn?" 

It was Bofur that spoke up this time. 

"What about me?" she asked. 

"What were you like as a pebble?" he asked. 

"Oh, that's something you'll have to ask Bilbo.  Bilbo-" she started immediately looking for her brother only for her smile to fall, "Oh, right. Um, well, maybe one day you can ask him if you pass through the Shire again.  He can tell you better than I." 

Fawn's entire demeanor seemed to change and she sunk a bit in the saddle.

Fili and Kili exchanged a look behind her back before glancing at their uncle who looked at her a moment longer before looking away when he couldn't bare the sight of her sad features anymore. 

"Ah, cheer up, lassie." said Balin.  "It'll be alright." 

Fawn forced a smile to the older dwarf. 

"Balin is right, my dear." Gandalf spoke. "Bilbo will be along soon enough.  You know he doesn't let you get too far for too long without him." 

"I'm afraid not this time, old friend." Fawn said with a sigh. "You heard him.  I've gone and done it this time.  Made a real Took of myself." 

"Well, then.  You should be quiet proud." the wizard said.  "I was always fond of the Tooks.  And Bilbo will be along, dear.  He is a Baggins by name but the both of you have got a Tookish streak in you a mile long. Give it time." 

Fawn shook her head at the old wizard. 

He knew very well that she hadn't any Took blood in her at all. 

"In fact, I'd wager that he's waking up right about now, realizing how dreadfully boring it will be without your troublesome self and is all but running to follow us so that he doesn't perish from the quiet." he said. 

"I'll take that wager!" someone shouted which then ensued a vigorous conversation revolving placing bets as to when and if Bilbo would show. 

Fawn had her doubts and stayed out of the betting but it did make her a smile a little to see them all mischeviously jiggling their coin pouches. 

The Company carried on through the woodland for a bit longer until a cry cut through the air. 

"Wait!" 

A gasp ripped it's way out of Fawn as she turned to see her brother running to catch up with them. 

She bolted off of Connie and raced towards him as fast as she could. 

"Bilbo!" she cried, snatching him from the ground in a spinning hug.  "You came!" 

"Of course I came, Fawnie." he sighed when she sat him down and knelt before him. 

Bilbo held her cheek in his hand for a moment, "I couldn't very well let you run off on your own, now could I?  I picked you up all those years ago and brought you home and promised to look after you.  I can't very well do that sat in Bag End while you're off on some grand adventure now can I?" 

Fawn sniffled, tears in her eyes, "No, I suppose not.   And it's a good thing too.  You know I'm just loads of a trouble." 

"Exactly.  It was purely practicality really." he teased. 

"Of course.  A civic duty really." she said, laughing through her tears.

"Wouldn't have been fair at all for me to leave the dwarves to put up with you." he teased. 

"Tis true.  I'm a handful.  Just terrible really." she agreed. 

"Miss Fawn, you're no trouble at all and I-" Kili started to defend her but stopped when he saw the two of them smile at him.  "Oh, you're joking.  Sorry." 

The pair of them shared a laugh before Fawn sniffed again, "You're really coming?" 

"Yes, I am." he said, urging her to stand and they made their way towards the front of the group. 

"I signed it." Bilbo said, waving the contract before presenting to Balin who made a show of opening his eyeglass and looking it over. 

"Everything appears to be in order." said Balin before placing a well aimed wink at the hobbit.  "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield." 

There was a round of chuckles from the group and Fawn took to squeezing her brother in happiness again. 

"Easy, Fawn, easy." Bilbo gasped.  "Cutting off the air supply." 

"Oh, right, sorry, sorry." she said, releasing him. 

Thorin watched the interaction amused with both the hobbit's change of heart and the massive smile on Fawn's face. 

He decided right then that she looked absolutely radiant when she was happy like that and it was a sight he wouldn't mind seeing more of. 

Fawn glanced up at him and their gazes lingered for a moment before he eventually broke it to say, "Give him a pony." 

"No, no, no, no.  That won't be necessary. Thank you. I'm sure I can keep up." Bilbo stuttered. 

"Oh, yes, Bilbo! You just have to.  They're so cute!" Fawn tittered excitedly. "And you've yet to meet Connie!" 

"I've done my fair share of walking on holiday- and who's Connie?" Bilbo said, eyes growing in size when he watched his sister climb upon the great steed. 

"This is Connie! Constellation actually but Connie for short! Isn't she lovely?" Fawn asked. 

"Yes, yes, Fawn, lovely." he said, getting a bit nervous about the ponies.  "But really I'm in no need of a pony.  I've even gotten as far as Frogmorton once- urgh!" 

His nervous rambling was cut off when Fili and Kili simply picked him up and placed him on the pony. 

Fawn had Connie sidle up next to him with a giant smile on her face. 

Rather unnerving actually. 

Bilbo never knew anything good to come when she was that excited. 

"Bofur!" she called and the dwarf in question. 

"Yes, lass?" he smiled at her. 

"What is the name of this pony?" she asked. 

"Hasn't got one." he said.  "Just a pony."

"Just a pony!" she gasped in pure outrage. "How rude! I shall name you, darling. Don't fret." 

Bilbo gave his sister a look of exasperation, "Must you?" 

"I must." she said. "Now, let's see.  You're a lovely color, darling.  Maybe Cinnamon?  No, no, that won't do. Perhaps, Brownie? No, that is dreadful. Biscuit?! No, that's a terrible name for a pony.  What was I thinking?" 

Thorin could not hold his smile at the sound of her muttering. 

Luckily, he was at the front. 

Well, save for Dwalin, who - at a glance- gave him a very knowing look. 

He simply scowled at him. 

"I've got it! Myrtle! Her name shall be Myrtle!" Fawn beamed. 

"Myrtle?" Ori asked softly.  

"Yes!" Fawn grinned. "Myrtle from the myrtle tree which has absolutely lovely fragrant blossoms AND is a symbol of purity. Good luck, you know." 

"And you want to name a pony after purity?" Gloin asked. 

"Yes, of course." she said. "My other option was Magnolia which means 'great excellence' but I found that a bit too onstentatious.  Additionally, it would've been Maggie for short. Bilbo and I have a cousin called Maggie and, well,  she is incredibly unpleasant.  I should not like to invoke that negative energy onto this quest, thank you very much." 

The group chuckled at her ramblings while Bilbo scolded her. 

"Fawn Baggins, that was rude." Bilbo said. 

"It's true!" she said back.  "She is unpleasant.  Nearly as bad as Lobelia.  And besides, dearest darling Myrtle is a sweetheart.  I shouldn't like to burden her with a name laden with such negative connotations. Honestly, Bilbo, it's like you don't even know me sometimes!" 

Fili couldn't help but grin. 

Fawn Baggins was a riot and she seemed to come alive all the more when her brother was near.   

He was glad the hobbit had decided to join for more than one reason. 

When it was time to pay up coin purses started flying through the air and Fawn moved up to take Gandalf's place near the front. 

She and Connie sidled up beside Dwalin who greeted her with an uncharacteristic smile. 

Though to Fawn, it was all too familiar in the two days she'd known him. 

He seemed to have a soft spot for her. 

"Feelin' better now are ye', lass?" he asked, a knowing twinkle in his eye when he saw Thorin bristle out of the corner of his eye. 

"Much!" she grinned.  "May I ride up here with you? I like to keep my eyes ahead if possible.  I'm very excited to see where we're going." 

"Yer not botherin me, lass." he said. "I don' mind yer company at all." 

She grinned, those fluffy cheeks sending her eyes into half moons again, "Great!" 

"Thorin?" she called his name and he glanced at her to show she had his attention.  "Where are we headed exactly?" 

He lifted a brow, "To Erebor." he said simply. 

She sighed at him dramatically, "Well, yes. But what path are we taking?  I didn't get the best look at the map last night." 

"You needn't worry yourself with it." he said with a shake of his head.  "Just stick close to me and you'll be safe." 

Dwalin cut his eyes sideways at his old friend. 

An interesting choice of words … but he decided to let him have this. 

"Well, the only reason I really asked was because if we were to travel the old main path, there is a short detour that curves but leads out all the same." she said. 

"And?" he asked.  "For what reason would we divert from our original path?" 

"There is a rather wild garden that grows on that path that is free to all.  We could stock up on some things.  Wild herbs, there are vegetables and a few of the trees are fruiting right now.  Not all but some." she said. 

"And how came you to know of this garden free to all?" he inquired. 

"Because I planted it." she said matter of factly.  "It is for any wary traveler to use as long as they are respectful to the earth." 

Bilbo, further down the line, smiled softly at her words as he knew them to be true. 

That 'free to all' garden had been there for twenty years and always had something to bare. 

Fawn had claimed that patch when she was around nine or so on a trip back from holiday and they'd come across a traveler who was hungry. 

Fawn had promptly given him everything edible in her bag and vowed to find him more.   

Bilbo remembered the determined little girl, climbing through berry brambles and climbing trees for an apple. 

The traveller had been grateful and went on his way in much better shape than they'd found him. 

Fawn had been disturbed by the idea of someone going hungry though and spent the longest time turning it into the 'free to all garden" . 

It flourished and Bilbo had never told her but he'd been very proud of her for it. 

"I think it's a great idea!" Fili piped up from his spot by Bilbo. 

"Yeah, I want to see this magical garden!" called Kili. 

"Well, it's not magical." Fawn grinned at the pair of them as she turned.  "But there are blackberries! Which, for this time of year, is pretty magical, I'd say." 

"Blackberries?" Thorin asked.  

Dwalin smirked. 

Hook, line and sinker. 

She had him. 

Thorin Oakenshield was a sucker for blackberries and it was clear as day on his face. 

"Yes!" she grinned at him.  "And they are rather good if I do say so myself.   I'm not sure why they come so early as blackberry season isn't really until at least height of summer but it's always been like that in the garden.  But I love blackberries so I just don't question it.  Best not to jinx it."  

"And how long will it take with this detour?" Thorin asked. 

Dwalin could see the cogs turning in his head. 

"Oh, six one way, half a dozen the other.  No difference really.  A bit more scenic.  And there are a lot of deer near if you wanted to have a quick hunt.  And it's not exactly Bag End but I have made a little shelter there as well.   Just something to keep you safe and dry if you were traveller in need of it." she said. 

"And how far is it?" he asked. 

"From here? Oh about a day or so depending." she said. 

"Depending on what?" he asked. 

"Depending on how fast you want to get to the blackberries!" she said impishly making him chuckle in spite of himself. 

He couldn't help it. 

Thorin glanced back at Balin, "What say you?" 

The white haired dwarrow looked at the woman in question with her big puppy eyes and pleading face. 

"I say it would be a good idea to replenish supplies and take refuge.  We'll no doubt have plenty of difficult times ahead, Thorin.  Best we take the opportunities when presented." he said. 

Thorin held his gaze a bit longer before glancing among the hopeful looks of the company and finally to the woman who was looking at him with the biggest hopeful eyes he'd ever seen. 

He caved.  Hard. 

"Alright.  Take us to your little garden when we're close." he said and chuckled again when she cheered. 

"Yay! You won't be sorry! I promise!" she said.  

And truthfully, Thorin didn't think he would be. 

Even if it ended up in a mess. 

Even if they ended up lost. 

Somewhere deep down… he knew it was worth it just to see that happy little smile on her face. 

…………

Hello loves! Thank you for being patient with me as I worked on this update!

I do hope you like it and are getting deeper into Fawn's character.

I will say, she's not exactly as she seems and I'm curious to see if any of you pick up on the clues and figure out the secret before it's revealed. I would love to know your thoughts!

Also, if you want to catch up on the story, there are two parts before this. The Prologue: A Baggins of Bag End and Chapter One: An Unexpected Hostess.

With love eternally, Kenny 

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[futuristicyouthvoid]

Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Another guest was unexpected when Thorin Oakenshield's company gathered in the tiny hobbit hole.

At least it wasn't expected by the dwarves and the hobbit.

Surely the cunning mage knew. He was crouched on one side of the table full of dwarves, where the king sat at the head corner. Bilbo was on the verge of losing his mind as he studied the contract when the atmosphere got heated again as the meeting continued. Taking a deep breath, Thorin got up from the table and paced around, his arms folded across his chest. Just then, he heard the sound coming from the door. When no one was there, he advanced and opened the door.

In front of him stood a tall figure dressed in black. Before he could open his mouth, the other person broke the silence as he lowered the cap of his cloak.

"Good evening, master dwarf. Gandalf invited me here for a meeting. I hope I'm not too late."

Thorin looked intently at the owner of the gentle voice. It was a human woman. Thorin finally managed to break in.

T: Your timing is not very good.

Just then, Gandalf's voice was heard from behind.

G: Oh dear friend! You finally made it, I was starting to think you disappeared!

As he approached the door, he made Thorin stand aside and let her in and closed the door. The woman looked at the mage with a slightly mischievous expression.

"I thought this was your job, my dear friend."

Gandalf laughed with delight. Meanwhile, when Thorin and the woman came face to face, she greeted him briefly.

"I am Y/N, a Dúnedain ranger of the North. I am at your service."

Thorin returned the salute.

T: Thorin Oakenshield.

~~~

It had already been a few weeks since Y/N had set off with the company. They were trying to find a suitable place to camp now. At first Thorin and some of the dwarves from company were reluctant to accept him. Being a woman had a big part in this, of course, but she was also part of the uncanny rangers. Although these two elements caused great prejudices at first, they were broken over time. He had the opportunity to prove himself. Now the dwarves had acknowledged his existence. Bilbo had agreed from the very beginning. First of all the dwarves, Balin had shown him a kind of kindness, the most sensible of them. Then the princes Fili and Kili, Ori and Bofur followed him. Dori and Nori brought the sequel. In fact, Dwalin's ice had melted after a while, but his relations with Thorin were volatile. He was a mean and stern dwarf. He was stubborn and domineering, sometimes even rude and hurtful.

However, Y/N seemed to tolerate this side of him with his composure.

When a suitable place for the camp was found, everyone determined a certain corner and left their belongings. The fire was lit and the division of labor was done. By the time the food was eaten, most of the dwarves were already asleep. Kili and Fili were sitting on the bottom of a rock near the fire. Balin and Ori were chatting in a corner, while Thorin and Dwalin were sitting in the far corner of the others. Gandalf was sitting under a tree, smoking his pipe, watching the scenery. Bilbo was back on his pony again.

Y/N had gone to look around as part of his duty. When he turned, he came out of the darkness and proceeded to the place where the fire was. He knelt by the flames and reinforced the wood, along with some wood he had brought with him. At this moment, he was aware that two pairs of eyes were watching him, and he slowly got up and went to his corner. It was his first watch.

Dwalin nudged his distracted friend lightly and said, "You're doing it again, Thorin." she muttered softly so only he could hear. Thorin snapped out of his thoughts and refused. "No I don't."

He fidgeted restlessly, struggling not to meet his friend's eyes, but without success. Dwalin grunted. Thorin reluctantly agreed, showing his displeasure. "Yes I did."

Dwalin had known his friend for a long time, and it was the first time he had seen him like this. "You can't take your eyes off her. Thorin…it's clear this isn't about insecurity anymore. Whatever it is, this needs to be settled."

Thorin let out a shaky breath as he listened to his friend. Then the strong hand gripping his shoulder showed his support. "We have enough trouble. This is neither the time nor the place, Dwalin."

Dwalin added, "Then it's better for him to gnaw at you. Then you may not have the opportunity." Thorin thought he had said too much and immediately returned to his inner world. He sighed as his gaze wandering over the floor shifted back to the body sitting in the darkness.

As Y/N sat on the top of the rock watching the surroundings, feeling overwhelmed, he slowly turned his gaze to the right. Here again the same thing happened. He made eye contact with Thorin. This time, however, was different because Thorin wasn't the first to look away. This had been happening, especially lately, and Thorin was usually the first to look away. However, he did not cut off the contact. When their eyes were locked for a while, they exchanged a short smile at each other. Although there were arguments, mostly due to Thorin's stress, they also managed to have decent conversations a few times. Yet there were still crackles, and at times he even thought that Thorin hated him.

Y/N was the first to catch his gaze. He had to keep his mind off and go back to his vigil.

As the hours passed, the dwarves' snores began to echo more and more. It was literally a headache, even their sleep was chaotic. It was at such times that his longing for the peace of Imladris increased. He took a deep breath.

After a while, he turned in that direction when he heard footsteps near him. He was a little startled to see that it was Thorin approaching him, but he didn't show it.

"An hour until your shift. Looks like you're having trouble sleeping again." said the woman.

Thorin smiled and asked permission to sit down. When the confirmation came, he sat down. "You should have noticed by now."

The woman shook her head. "You're right, stress brings dark clouds over everyone. I can understand that."

Thorin was silent for a moment. In the midst of this silence, he cast some glances at the woman. He looked like he was going to say something, but the woman broke the silence.

"What reason do you have for hating me, Thorin?"

Thorin wasn't expecting this, as he looked up in surprise. Then he answered without delay, "Of course I don't hate you. Do you really think so?"

Her eyes fell on him. "You didn't give me any other choice. It's okay Thorin, that's not my problem. I'm going to say that I'm here on duty. You may not realize it, but I know what it's like to be homeless and tossed around. I accepted the offer as soon as I heard it because I wanted to help. I asked you to come back, with all my heart and I will keep my word."

As Thorin turned his full attention to the woman speaking, his expression began to soften his uncomfortable expression. There was even a slight smile. His eyes didn't lie, though he had proven himself to the company all this time and helped them many times over.

"Erebor will be restored to its former glory. The dwarves will return to their homeland. Until then, we must support each other. It will be easier if we are united and respectful. Then we will part ways and I will leave you alone. Now just allow me to help, I have no further requests. "

The dwarf king's face fell towards the end. A sense of unease came over him again. Of course, separation... Their paths would diverge at some point. This human warrior would have to return to his realm, and it strangely disturbed Thorin. While saying these, Y/N couldn't help the bitterness in him.

He watched the expression on the man's face. Then their eyes met. The woman mustered up her courage and placed her hand lightly on the man's wrist, intending to quell the restlessness. Thorin seemed startled at first, not expecting contact, and held his breath for a moment. The feeling of warmth that then spread through him burned him, actually both.

Thorin's expression softened a little, and he smiled as he watched her face.

Then he began to speak, "Thank you for everything." Then he added, "And I'm sorry... for everything."

Now it was her turn to be surprised. Had Thorin really just thanked and apologized? This is seriously unusual, but he soon realized the importance of it. Thorin had rarely done this, and he was completely sincere. It was definitely one of those rare moments. The woman smiled. "I will remember this moment for the rest of my life, Thorin. It was unusual." lightly stuck. This made Thorin laugh.

With the withdrawn hand, the warmth in his wrist had disappeared. He almost seemed to protest, but of course he remained silent. Instead, they both enjoyed each other's laughter.

They sat there chatting for a considerable time. They understood each other a little more. The warrior woman told some things about her past without going into details. Over time, the duo found more in common.

They sat until late at night. Even Thorin's watch had passed, and Bofur's watch had come. Thus ended the night. In fact, they had a lot more to talk about, even something they had to resolve between themselves. But they had set that aside. They dispersed and settled into their beds, relaxed, with smiles on their faces.

[rainydaymiddleearthimagines]

Destiny Calling: Chapter Eleven

Gandalf was once again guiding you all, riding on horseback through the forest. War survivors of Helm Deep rode with you, talking amongst themselves. You shared the horse with Aragorn, sitting behind him. "I wish we didn't have to ride so much." you muttered. "You're only saying that because your horse threw you when you came to Edoras." Legolas said. "Keep it up and I'll throw you." you huffed, earning a chuckle from Aragorn. "So you all thought Merry and Pippin were dead?" You asked, after being explained the story. "Aragorn kicked a helmet at least forty feet." Gimli said. "He did?" You asked, looking over at him. "I was in distress." he admitted. "So you kicked a helmet?" You asked. "Might I add that you do not think logically when in distress?" Aragorn reasoned. You felt more tired as you approached to wherever Gandalf was taking you. Which was odd. This wasn't quite near Mordor, near corruption to make you tired... So why were you feeling this way now?

You heard laughing, looking forward to see your friends sitting on a broken wall smoking from a pipe. "It’s good. Definitely from the Shire. Longbottom Leaf." Merry said. Pippin nodded. "I feel like I’m back at the Green Dragon." Pippin said. "Green Dragon." Merry said, reminiscing of his times in the Shire that seemed so long ago. "A mug of ale in my hand. Putting my feet up on a settle after a hard day’s work." Pippin said. "Only, you’ve never done a hard day’s work." Merry teased, laughter coming from both of them.

Merry smiled at you all. "Welcome, my lord, to Isengard!" Merry greeted. "You young rascals! A merry hunt you’ve led us on, and now we find you, feasting and… smoking!" Gimli huffed. "We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particularly good." Pippin said triumphantly. "Salted pork?" Gimli asked. Gandalf shook his head disapprovingly. "Hobbits." Gandalf sighed. "We’re under orders, from Treebeard, who’s taken over management of Isengard." Merry said.

Pippin finally looked at you. "...I thought you left with Frodo?" He said confused. "I did. I was forced to turn back." you admitted. "Any reason as to why?" Merry asked, recalling that determination he witnessed to keep Frodo safe. "The corruption of the lands was killing her." Gandalf said. You nodded, sweat beading on your brow due to the exact problem that Gandalf was speaking of. "Let's talk to Treebeard shall we?" you said, ignoring the odd exhaustion that was hitting you. Gandalf nodded, though he kept an eye on you.

You rode near Orthanc, Treebeard greeting them. "Young Master Gandalf. I’m glad you’ve come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master. But there is a Wizard to manage here, locked in his tower." Treebeard said. "Show yourself." Aragorn whispered. You tapped Aragorn's shoulder. "Water. Please." you muttered. He reached for his pack. "no...Mine." you muttered. He rose a brow, lifting your water canteen. It was full of water from a fountain in Rivendell.

Something to know about the water in the elven cities is that it is one of the purest things anyone can drink. How that is so is uncertain, but even your father knew that. Elrond insisted you take it with you in case something like this began to happen. You brought it to your lips, drinking it. It was cold, but revivifying as you closed it. "Thank you." you said, him noticing the sweat on your brow.

"Be careful. Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous." Gandalf said, cutting Aragorn's attention away from you. "Well, let’s just have his head and be done with it." Gimli said. "No. We need him alive. We need him to talk." Gandalf halted. Éomer looked over, saying nothing to Gandalf about this. "You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden King." Saruman revealed himself on top of the tower.  "And made peace afterwards. Can we not take counsel together as we once did, my old friend? Can we not have peace, you and I?" Saruman asked, Théoden coming forward. "We shall have peace. We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet for the sport of your own crows, we shall have peace." Théoden said with anger.

"Gibbets and crows? Dotard! What do you want, Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess. The key of Orthanc. Or perhaps the Keys of Barad-dur itself along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!" Saruman spat. "Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are at risk. But you can save them, Saruman. You were deep in the enemy’s counsel." Gandalf said. "So you have come here for information. I have some for you." Saruman sighed. He lifted a dark orb, looking into it. "Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon. You’re all going to die." Saruman said. You frowned.

Gandalf approached the base of Orthanc. "But you know this, don’t you, Gandalf? You cannot think that this Ranger will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king. Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him, those he professes to love. Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death." Saruman said. "I’ve heard enough!" Gimli muttered. "Shoot him. Stick an arrow in his gob." Gimli encouraged. You wanted the same fate for Saruman at the moment. "No. Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared." Gandalf said. "Save your pity and your mercy. I have no use for it!" Saruman yelled. Saruman sent a fireball down, attempting to harm Gandalf but failing. "Saruman, your staff is broken." Gandalf said, frowning at the foe that was once his friend.

Saruman's staff broke, many pieces flying from the sudden bust. Grima appeared next to the wizard. "Grima, you need not follow him. You were not always as you are now. You were once a Man of Rohan. Come down." Theoden said. "A Man of Rohan? What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs? The victory at Helm’s Deep does not belong to you, Théoden Horse-master. You are a lesser son of greater sires." Saruman said. "Grima, come down. Be free of him." Théoden encouraged. "Free? He will never be free." Saruman spat. "No." Grima said, his voice small as he spoke. "Get down, cur!" Saruman yelled, smacking Grima over. "Saruman! You were deep in the enemy’s counsel. Tell us what you know!" Gandalf interrogated. Grima drew a dagger, looking to the wizard before him in anger. "You withdraw your guard, and I will tell you where your doom will be decided. I will not be held prisoner here." Saruman yelled.

Grima jumped forward, stabbing Saruman before Legolas fired an arrow, killing Grima. Saruman's body fell from the tower, impaling itself onto one of his own mechanisms. You grimaced, looking away from the gruesome sight. "Send word to all our allies, and to every corner of Middle-Earth that still stands free. The enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike." Gandalf declared. The spiked wheel turned, Saruman's body falling into the waters. His orb fell from his robes into the water. "The filth of Saruman is washing away. Trees will come back to live here. Young trees. Wild trees." Treebeard said, you smiling at this. "May their young voices fill your forest soon." You said. Treebeard seemed to appreciate hearing this and smiled at you.

Pippin walked through the water, picking up the orb. "Pippin!" Aragorn called. "Bless my bark!" Treebeard gaped. "Peregrin Took! I’ll take that, my lad. Quickly now." Gandalf said. He wrapped the orb in his cloak, the riders finally returning to Edoras.

You held your lover close, both hands hugging him from behind. You were thankful that he had lived through the Battle at Helm's Deep, remembering your fallen friend who was not so lucky. Your men had returned home, bidding you farewell and encouraging you to reach out to nature if you needed them again. You felt strangely okay, being away from home for so long. Perhaps many comments of the road being your home was true. Or maybe you were holding onto what felt like home right now. Aragorn's hand held yours as you rode in silence. No words were needed to voice how thankful you both were for the other's presence.

As you arrived in Edoras, Éowyn stood in the hall, a large crowd behind her. She was holding a cup, bowing to Théoden before handing it to him. "Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!" Théoden said. "Hail!" The crowd yelled back.

You walked but Éowyn halted you. "Mind if I steal her for a moment?" Éowyn asked. Aragorn pressed a kiss to your head before you went off with Éowyn. "What did you need?" You asked. "It is not what I need Lady Y/n, it is what you need." She said with a chuckle. You followed her to a room, her telling you to sit on a bed while she dug through a wardrobe. "Which one?" She asked, holding up to dresses. You grimaced. "Can't I stay in my armor?" You asked. "Your armor needs repairing and is covered in Orc's blood. Come now, they aren't that bad!" She said. You had to admit, the dresses Éowyn were presenting to you were simpler than the ones Arwen made you wear. You sighed, pointing to the green one. She smiled and set it down. "Need help with your armor?" She asked. "If you do not mind." you nodded.

She assisted you in the removal of the major pieces, stopping at the sight of Aragorn's ring around your neck. "What is this?" She asked, knowing damn well what the artifact was. "It is Aragorn's. We parted a few months back... He wanted me to wear it as a reminder that someone was fighting for me outside of where I was going." you explained. She nodded slowly. You removed your clothes. You turned your back to her, her seeing the scars. "You have many scars." She noticed. "I've had many journeys." You said, Éowyn assisting you with the dress. You sighed, brushing it out. "You look lovely!" She said with a smile. You chuckled. "You would get along with my sister." You said. "You have a sister?" She asked as she sat you back down. "And two brothers." you nodded. "Uhm... Lady Éowyn, might I ask what you're doing?" you asked. "Just because you charge with men does not mean you have to share the looks of one." Éowyn said, brushing out your hair.

You didn't mind this. It was like a more zen version of Arwen who was usually encouraging to things like this to an absurd degree. "What is life like in... Uhm-" "Rivendell?" you asked. She nodded, taking hair from each side of your head in the front. "It's peaceful. Very calm. Serene." You said. "Sounds like it wasn't the life for you." Éowyn noticed by your tone as she braided your hair. "It really wasn't.." You agreed. "But Aragorn?" She asked, a smile coming onto your lips. "You love that man, I can tell." She said. "Indeed I do Lady Éowyn, indeed I do." you laughed. She smiled as you stood up. "Now, you look beautiful." She said. "Come, let us show the men that we have them bested in one thing." You said. "And what's that?" She asked. "Basic decency." You said, earning a giggle from her as you both walked out.

Aragorn stood against a pillar, watching Legolas (attempt to) play a drinking game. "There you are! And Lady Y/n, you look beautiful!" Théoden said, you smiling at the clearly drunk king. Aragorn looked over, his eyes widening. You waved a small goodbye to Éowyn as you walked over to Aragorn. "What, pray tell, have I done to deserve to see you in such a beautiful manner?" Aragorn asked. "An hour. You get this for one hour." you said. You looked over at your friend.

"What’ll we drink to? Let’s drink to victory! To victory!" A man yelled. Gimli chugged his mug and Legolas carefully sipped it, making you smirk. "You can take the man out of a prince but you cannot take the prince out of a man." you said making Aragorn smile. "Any messages from Elrond?" Aragorn asked. You nodded. "I got one simple one from Haldir when we were on the wall, he said you'd know what it meant." you said. Aragorn rose a brow. "He said 'You do not require the claim any longer, you proved to him on skill alone.'" you recalled, watching the party around you. Aragorn swallowed hard.

This was referring to a conversation the man had with the elf. Elrond told Aragorn that if he was to wed you, he'd have to make a claim for the throne of Gondor. It was a way to "permanently" cut Aragorn off from attempting it again. Elrond assumed that he would never actually make a claim to Gondor, so hearing this made Aragorn surprised. Aragorn had proven to be reliable to you through skill alone, not by status.

"Here, here. It’s the Dwarves that go swimming with little, hairy women." Gimli said, belching right afterwards. You resisted a snort, looking at the dwarf. "Gimli will never change." you said, shaking your head before noticing Aragorn's gaze was locked onto you. "What?" You asked. "Nothing... You're just very beautiful tonight." Aragorn said to you. You chuckled. "Have I mentioned that I do enjoy seeing you have a nice time?" You asked. "Are you trying to get me drunk?" He asked, you laughing. "No, but I encourage you to have fun!" You said. He brushed the already loose strands of hair away from your face. "I am enjoying myself right where I am." He told you. Éowyn offered you a mug. "Only if you drink as well." You told her. She turned around lifting a mug off the table, handing another one to Aragorn. He took it, looking at the two women. "What do we cheer to?" You asked. "Hmm... May we live to see more days as bright as this one!" Éowyn said. You nodded, drinking the ale from the mug. Unlike Legolas you had actually drank ale before. Staying in inns where it was a common drink or occasionally, the only option.

"I feel something. A slight tingle in my fingers. I think it’s affecting me." Legolas said. "What did I say? He can’t hold his liquor." Gimli said before falling back into the floor. Ale almost shot from your nose as you laughed, men helping the poor drunk bastard up. "Game over." Legolas stated in his usually calm demeanor.

Soon Merry and Pippin joined the fun, dancing and singing on a table. "Oh you can search far and wide, You can drink the whole town dry, But you’ll never find a beer so brown, As the one we drink in our hometown." They sang, Gandalf now standing with you and Aragorn. "You can drink your fancy ales, You can drink ‘em by the flagon, But the only brew for the brave and true," Pippin looked over at Gandalf, wavering a little. "Pippin!" Merry said. Pippin looked over at his (clearly drunk) friend. "But the only brew for the brave and true, Comes from The Green Dragon!" They finished, chugging down the drinks as fast as they could. "Thank you! I win!" Merry said, making you chuckle.

You couldn't help but feel... guilty. Knowing that Sam and Frodo were in danger somewhere in the mountains while you all were drinking and dancing. "No news of Frodo?" You asked Gandalf. "No word. Nothing." Gandalf replied. "We have time. Every day, Frodo moves closer to Mordor." Aragorn said. "Do we know that?" Gandalf asked. "What does your heart tell you?" Aragorn asked. "That Frodo is alive. Yes. Yes, he’s alive." a small amount of relief fell over you before you gripped the column. Gandalf rose a brow and Aragorn put a soothing hand to your back.

"Corruption is spreading... Your life is in danger." Your father's voice warned. "How do I stop it?" you asked. "It is not something you can stop... It is up to the ring master to do so." He said. "Then how do I keep illness at bay?" you asked. "Water from the fountains of home" He said before you leaned up. "Y/n?" Aragorn asked. You swallowed, looking at him. "...I should get some air." You said, moving past both men. You stood outside, letting the air flow through you. The voices of nature seemed... Even louder than before.

Your father was right....

You were dying.

[elles-writing]

Dragon Heart - IV.

Taglist: @guardianofrivendell @anjhope1 @legolasoftherings @kumqu4t @grunid @elvish-sky @artsywaterlily @alexloveskili

If you want to be added to tag list, send me a message or comment please.

Warnings/triggers: -

She looked over at Bilbo, who was stirring, and decided it would be a good idea to prepare him a cup of warm tea with some honey and milk. Y/N remembered Bilbo loved this as a child.

So, her next steps took her to the hobbit's kitchen.

Before she stepped inside, Y/N noticed one - perhaps from the older ones - dwarf, who prepared a steaming cup of tea already.

The dwarf didn't seemed to trust her - of course - but his eyes little softened, because she knew Gandalf and Bilbo.

"What tea is that?" Y/N asked instead, genuiely interested.

"Charmomile, for Master Baggins." Y/N hummed and the dwarf quickly left the little hobbit kitchen. You looked around, more concentrated this time. Then, you looked over the hall, pantry, and living room, where was Bilbo, Gandalf and some of the dwarves.

Baggins', now Bilbo's house, has never been un-practical. Maybe for Y/N by it's size, but other than that, there was everything one would need for life.

When Bilbo catched her eyes, Y/N could clearly see he was uncomfortable, upset and absolutely, absolutely done with the subject.

The dwarves.

But most importantly...

Gandalf.

You shrugged, and decided to leave him his burglar-not-burglar game. Bilbo would not be patient forever, but he was mannered and clever enough to know what to do. You were sure the hobbit would feel his Took side with desire for an adventure again.

And take his chance to escape Sackville-Baginses.

As you walked around, you noticed some of the pictures. They seemed to be new - or at least you didn't remembered them.

You walked closer, and stepped on something. You looked down, and noticed it was a dagger. You've never seen the design before, but assumed it must be one of the dwarves'. You picked it up and studied it, when you overheard a voice next to you.

"Careful with this, it's been just sharpened." You turned to see a blonde, blue-eyed dwarf, with braided moustache. He seemed to have the same twinkle in his eyes as Kili.

"I can handle sharp things," Y/N said and looked back at the knife.

"It's nice. Not too light, but not as heavy either." Y/N was thinking aloud. She completely forgot the dwarf next to her, as she studied the dagger.

"You know Master Baggins," He suddenly said. Y/N turned to him.

What the-did he just-

"I do," You nodded, and placed the dagger to his hand.

What the-no, he just didn't-

"You don't look like you are related," he continued.

"That's because we aren't." You ended the topic. Instead, it was your time to ask.

"Who are you?"

"Fili, at your service m'lady," he gently took your hand and kissed the back of your hand, his eyes not leaving yours.

"Y/N, at yours...Fili," You said.

"Oh, Y/N, can I-can I talk to you, for a second?" Bilbo came and you gladly walked aside with him, while Fili send you a wink.

"Bilbo, to answer some of your questions - no, I didn't knew-"

"I'm not talking about the, the dwarves," Bilbo looked over the room with frown on his face.

"Then what is it, my little friend?" You said quietly in attempt to brighten up the situation. Bilbo was almost adorable with frowned pouty face, hands folded on his chest, patting the floor with his foot...only if you could stand straight in his house. Your back thought the size of his house was not adorable at all.

"Well, um...did Gandalf told you to bring them along?" You looked at him with scrunched face, and rolled your eyes.

"I wouldn't be coming if I knew there were dwarves involved. So, if anything, I share your unpopular opinion." And ruffled his hair. He jumped up.

"I'm not a little hobbit anymore, you don't have to do this," Bilbo said through gritted teeth, and you grinned.

"Well, you still are kind of little," You teased him futher, until a dwarf with sharp blue eyes, long, dark hair, and the biggest grumpy and pouty face you've ever seen (not even Bilbo could do that, when he was angy little hobbit).

That dwarf shot you a glare, and also to Bilbo, who was taken aside by him and Gandalf, again.

You felt sorry for Bilbo.

When he was free, you overheard him muttering something about 'surely not going', 'not going anywhere', 'wizards', and so on. You decided to go to sleep, because all of the dwarves were asleep already, and you needed to be up early.

You woken up quickly. The first thing you've heard was the snoring. You scrunched your face, and quickly packed your things. Then, you walked out of Bag End, and decided to wait for them there.

The sunrise was nice time, especially to prepare your horse for the day.

"Shh," you cooed her quietly. It was beautiful mare, tall, and very, very clever.

"It will be okay. We will find dad, and we will go away, to live far away...everything is going to be just fine," You muttered.

"You ready?" Kili stood next to you with a grin on his face. You jumped up a little.

"I am." You said, and noticed Kili's expression as he looked at your horse. You let out a laugh.

"You've never seen a horse before?" Kili walked back a little.

"Not really," he said and you noticed his blushed cheeks.

"Kili!" You both looked over to Fili, standing between two ponies, who called him.

-

"Do you think Bilbo will come?" Kili asked you.

"That hobbit won't show up," Balin said. He was on his pony next to Kili, so he thought he talked to him.

"It's no surprise. Why would Master Baggins leave his home," Thorin (as was the grumpy dwarf named) said.

"I wouldn't understimate hobbits, and especially not Master Baggins," Gandalf said as he smoked his pipe.

"I am sure he is going to come," He said.

And that's when the bet started.

-

It wasn't even five minutes after you left Shire, when you overheard Bilbo's voice in the distance.

"Waaait!"

You looked over to Gandalf, who was hiding a laugh.

"You planned this?" You quietly asked and motioned to the hobbit, who was breathing heavily.

"Well, perhaps," he said, and you scoffed a little and shook your head, as the dwarves seated Bilbo on his pony.

-

The day was beautiful. It was actually quite warm, just warm so you could put down your cloak.

As the evening was approaching, and the sun was setting into palette of gold and velvet, and the sky was getting darker, Thorin decided it was time to set up camp. After a quick argument with Gandalf, the wizard left to seek company of himself. So, there was nothing easier, than to just finding the best place to place your bedroll.

You, Fili and Kili were on first watch. You laid down on your bedroll, and watched the stars. It was cloudless night, plus the crackling sound of fire, and smell of fresh night air was relaxing.

Bilbo was just coming back from his pony, when a sound in distance made him freeze.

"W-what was that?" He pointed to the distance, while looking at Kili.

"Orcs," he said in low, deep voice. You sat up. Bilbo had a part of Took in himself, but he was not that much of a Took.

"There is going to be plenty of those," Fili said, and, obviously, Kili continued.

"They come at night, no screams, just lots of blood," He looked at Bilbo, and the shadows in his face, along with his deep and low voice made it come out horribly scary. Him and Fili started chuckling, but you sighed.

"The way you two snore would make them run for hills, so I wouldn't be that worried," You said, and noticed Bilbo to relax by the corner of your eye.

Kili looked over at you. You pulled out book from your pack. He quickly recognized it, even in the darkness of the night. It was that book you flipped through back in Bag End.

You sat comfortably down, and looked over the illustrations on the pages, and softly touched them.

"What is the book you are reading about, lassie?" Balin asked. You didn't looked up.

"It's a book with tales and stories my...father wrote down," you answered.

"He used to read them to me," you shrugged.

"Would you read some of them-ow, what was that for?!" Kili whisper-yelled at his brother, who chuckled.

"You're a child, Kee," He muttered to himself, and Kili pouted. But Fili was curious as well, which Kili didn't needed to know.

"Well...this one," You flipped a few pages futher.

"This one is called Strange thief and the stars," Y/N comfortably sat and started reading.

"There was once a man. He wasn't very known by name, but by his eyes. His eyes, deep and dark, with sparkles, reminding of stars. Nobody has ever seen eyes like this before, and people were whispering he has stars themselves in his eyes," You slid the tips of your fingers over the drawing, remembering the precision your father has made into repairing them.

"Many women tried to grab his attention, but anytime they didn't sucsceeded, the sparks in their eyes were less visible, but in his as well. And that is why men has decided to call him 'the thief of stars', or a 'strange thief of stars'. He was wandering through the lands, until he found what, as he realized, was looking for,"

"What happened next?" Bilbo asked.

"That girl didn't want to talk to him. She was very kind and caring, but not naive. One day, however, she found a dragon. Big dragon, who seemed scary, but saved her from orcs. The beast's eyes reminded her of someone, yet she didn't knew of whom." You realized everyone was quiet, listening to you, as you spoken.

"The next day, she met the man. He runned into her, in a rush, in a fear - and asked her "Did you see the dragon too?". The young maiden nodded, and helped him to get to safety, as he was very nervous and scared. Since that day, they became closer and closer. One day, when a few years passed, her father - an old, wise and kind man - said, his daughter will marry someone, who gives her something very special. The young man came the next day in their house they lived in. He said," you flipped the page.

" 'I do not have much to offer - gold, silver, or gems - but I do have this," he took out a notebook out of his coat, and offered it. The girl's father took the notebook, and opened it. It was full of drawings of flowers, animals and people - but mainly of one special maiden, when she was laughing, collecting flowers, brushing her hair, cooking, reading...When she came there, and looked throught the book, her father looked at her, and she nodded. So, he looked deeply into the young man's eyes, and said 'She chose you.' "

You finished the story, and Kili giggled at how interested his brother was.

"Now who's the child here,"

[sketch-mer-6195]

Forsaken Chapter 6 (Thorin Oakenshield x OC)

Word Count: 2,117

Characters: The Company, Thorin Oakenshield, Dwalin, Sisilla, Gandalf

Summary: With a new breath of hope in Thorin’s heart and mind, he begins to wonder if and when he will see Sisilla ever again before he and the Company leave Rivendell. But he gets a surprise visit from the Oracle herself. Maybe he will hear good news about their travels.

  After hearing Sisílla’s words of certainty and faith that he would overcome the Dragon Sickness or not fall into its clutches of madness, Thorin had a small blooming feeling of hope that this journey was not a waste nor impossible. Sitting alone and looking over the falls of Rivendell, Thorin had lit his pipe and began to formulate how they would leave the river realm without being seen or caught by the guards. He was already informed by Gandalf that at first light that they were to leave and meet up with the wizard in the Misty Mountains. With a slow draw from his pipe, the warm orangey red glow from the tobacco embers highlighted his cheekbones, the silhouette of his nose and some small scars that dotted his skin throughout the years of battles and training. The smoke swirled around his form in wispy tendrils that would try to embrace him, only to fade away in the gentle breeze that blew across the lands from time to time.

Letting out a slow exhale, the smoke billowed out from his nose in long streams as he lowered his gaze until his eyes caught the figure that was Sisílla. Still in the same gown when he saw her in Lord Elrond’s personal study, she was walking along the slender paths and with a fist under her chin. As if she was in deep thought. He could not tell the distance from where he was from. He could feel the turmoil grow within his mind and his heart. This woman, the same woman that he had seen only in dreams and thought for over twenty years, now within his grasp yet so far away. How could he trust someone that he hardly knew, yet felt like he had known them since he was in his youth? Not even Balin could answer that for him, for it was up to Thorin himself to see that she was his One. A moment in time where he will know that she is the woman that he is to have and be with for the rest of their lives. 

“Thorin?” A voice snapped him out of his thoughts, making the dwarven king turn nonchalantly and see his closest friend Dwalin walking over to him.

“What is it?” Thorin asked as he focused on Dwalin.

The gruff dwarf looked over the balcony and spotted Sisílla in the distance with her back towards them and with her head tilted upwards as if looking up to the moon that hung high in the dark sky. Dwalin glanced over to Thorin who raised a brow at his best friend.

Crossing his tattooed arms, Dwalin jutted his head where he saw Sisílla. “What is it about that girl that has your head in the clouds?”

His cold disposition came back, hiding his feelings behind his mountainous wall that he had built throughout his life. But glancing over to see her, how she walked effortlessly across the stone paths and with a grace that he could not place words on how to describe her. Dwalin could see how Thorin’s icy gaze slowly melted as he focused on Lady Sisílla. It wasn’t a bad thing, but Dwalin had no faith in this woman and for all he knew, she would be a distraction for Thorin and possibly hinder him to be at his peak performance if danger came their way. Thorin seemed to have caught himself daydreaming, and in the eyes of his closest friend, he cleared his throat and turned as he began to walk away from the balcony.

“Are the men ready for departure?” He finally asked.

“Aye, they are.” Dwalin replied before watching the woman finally vanish behind a wall.

Running a hand over his face, Dwalin looked over to Thorin who was taking in a long and deep draw from his pipe. He was thinking too much, and now with this mystery woman now in the fray Dwalin needed to ground his king back to the earth below his boot clad feet.

“Thorin, ye need to forget about that lass. She’s nothin’ but trouble. For all we know, she may try to stop us on our journey to the mountain.” Dwalin said. “You can’t let that so-called oracle tell you whatever nicety or frivolous nonsense she so-calls sees.”

Sighing, Thorin let out more smoke billow out of his nostrils and soon chuckled softly. He needed to hear that from Dwalin. Letting out an agreeing hum, Thorin patted Dwalin’s shoulder and nodded.

“Thank you, Dwalin.”

The gruff dwarf nodded and gave a rare smirk before the two chuckled and left to join the rest of the company to eat some normal food and get a little rest before their departure from Rivendell. As they made it to the warm fire and the smell of some sausages that they had saved filled their noses, Thorin sat and watched his company enjoy a night of peace with no orc packs coming to attack them and no trolls thinking of sitting on them and squashing them into jelly. As he continued smoking his pipe and letting the smoke swirl around his head as he blew out smoke rings for entertainment, something light in color caught the corner of his eye. A glint under the moonlight. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw nothing but darkness in the halls of the bungalow that they were residing in. Of course, he needed to see who or what could be in the building with them. Sliding out of his seat silently, he made his way to the back unseen by his men and carefully made his way inside.

He grasped his sword, Orcist, and quietly drew his sword from its sheath and began to move across the floor with such stealth. As he made his way deeper within the room, he took a deep breath to steady his mind and breathing. With one more steady breath, he turned a nearby corner only to hear a sharp and shocked gasp. It took a few moments for Thorin to register that it was Sisílla who was lurking in the shadows.

“Sisílla?” Thorin called out and let out a sigh of frustration. “I could have killed you where you stood.”

“My apologies, but I must speak with you.” Sisílla said rather urgently and extended a hand out to him.

Raising a brow, he looked down at her outstretched hand, then to where he could hear his men laugh and sing a tune that he had heard back at the taverns in the Blue Mountains. Another internal turmoil ragged within his mind and heart. He didn’t trust her, yet he wanted to. And to know that she had faith in his quest to reclaim Erebor and faith that he was nothing like his father and grandfather. He had to know what she had to say. Grasping her hand with his, the same beautiful and gentle smile graced her lips as she tightened her grip on his hand and began to guide him to a back-door that was ajar. Thorin could only assume that is how she got in, but pushed that thought back to his mind as he let her guide him with such little effort and assistance. Through winding paths and across narrow bridges, Sisílla slowed to a stop near where they had first met at the landing and one of the entrance ways into Rivendell. Releasing his hand, Sisílla turned and tilted her head down slightly, her eyes trying their hardest to focus where Thorin stood.

His eyes wandered across her figure and dress, something that seemed to have made his lack of trust to her vanished like a wisp of smoke from his pipe before. Her hair practically gave off an ethereal glow, making her already soft skin have its own soft glow and her pink lips vibrant. Shaking his head, Thorin tried to calm his suddenly pounding heart and the heat growing not only on the ends of his ears but the pit of his stomach. He could not let his heart succumb him into a hopeless romantic, not now.“You had something of importance you wished to discuss?” Thorin stated as he crossed his arms.

“Yes, my apologies.” Sisílla nodded as she blinked a couple times. “It is about your journey to the Lonely Mountain.”

Thorin’s brow knitted together as his usual frown settled on his features. “What of it?”

Sisílla closed her eyes as she was unsure how to explain that they were to be together during this journey. That this was fate that brought them together in such a fashion and not earlier or later in life. There were to be bloodshed and tears, death and victory, but she could not speak of it which ached her very heart and soul.

“I give you my blessing and… I only wish we had more time in each other’s presence.” She slowly opened her eyes and was able to cast her gaze in his direction. “I do quite enjoy your company, even though you nearly cut me down earlier.”

Thorin was a little disappointed, in fact, by her words as he hoped she would give him an insight of what is yet to come in this journey. But with an understanding nod, Thorin hummed and let a lazy smirk play on his lips. “As did I, my lady. If we are to succeed, we-”

“You will, Thorin.” Sisílla interjected. “I know you will.”

Thorin tilted his head and frowned slightly, unsure of her sudden answer. “How can you be so sure?”

He could see that it was eating her from the inside to tell him what was to come, but she had much restraint and bit her lip to keep her thoughts inside her own mind and throat. Instead, she laid her hands on his shoulders and followed the length of his arms till she found his hands. Her hands were so soft, like the finest silks that he had seen in markets in Dale. And much smaller than his yet, it was a familiar feeling that he had experienced in the dreams. Without a second thought, he let his thumbs glide across the top of her hands which brought a shy but joyous smile to Sisílla. Her smile eased Thorin’s mind from the doubts and words that Lord Elrond had said about his inability to be overwhelmed by Dragon Sickness.

But his thoughts were soon broken as he felt her soft hands slowly slip from his grasp. Instinct kicked in and his grasp tightened around her hands which made Sisílla gasp in surprise as was Thorin. His grip was that of iron, but yet so gentle to not hurt or cause harm. He didn’t want to lose her, nor lose the chance to see her one last time. His grip loosened and slowly dropped their hands till they finally released each other’s grasp. Clearing his throat, he merely nodded and took a step back before he spoke.

“My apologies. I do not know what came over me, my lady.” Thorin said before turning on his heels with his back towards her. “When we claim our home, I will send word to you.”

“Promise?” Sisílla asked.

Thorin glanced over his shoulder to see her, eyes so hard trying to focus on him and not look so empty. But they were revealing a sort of hope to visit and be in his presence once more. Smiling a small smile, Thorin nodded. “I promise. You have my word and my honor, Lady Sisílla.”

A smile broke across her lips, making Thorin’s heart thump a little hard. It may be the last time he will be with her for the future is never revealed. And to know that Sisílla would not be able to speak about the journey ahead. But to know that she was alive and not a figment of his imagination was more than he could ever imagine. And to be in her presence would be a memory that he himself would take to his grave and cherish it till his final breath. As he bid her a good night, Sisílla curtsied low before they went their separate ways. As she turned a corner, she slowed to a stop where she tilted her head to the right. Listening carefully, she knew of the familiar gait that it was Gandalf. With a small smile she turned to face him in the general direction and bowed her head.

“Mithrandir, is everything in order?” She asked.

“It is. We must leave at once. Lord Elrond has granted permission for you to come along.” Gandalf said, earning a firm nod from Sisílla.

“And so our forsaken journey begins.”

(A/N: This chapter really had me in a rut and this by far took the longest to push through. I’m not really happy with it, but there are going to be chapters I’m not going to be pleased with personally. I hope you all enjoy it.)

Forsaken Taglist: @lathalea @tschrist1 @laurfilijames @ocfairygodmother @wordspin-shares @notlostgnome @fizzyxcustard @ruthoakenshield

Chapter 5 - Chapter 7

Master List Link

If anyone would like to be a part of this series, please let me know in the comments or in a direct message. Happy Reading!

[lilxberry]

Give Us A Song - Thorin’s Company

Warnings: None, just some platonic fluff with the whole gang

Words: 1,038

Pairings: None. Thorin’s Company x Reader (platonic)

(A/N: Kinda a song fic, if you count a lil’ bop from Frozen 2 lmao.)

(Song: All Is Found by Evan Rachel Wood from Frozen 2.)

_______________

As the company settled down in their little campsite for the night, Bofur heaved out a sigh.

“Are you alright, Master Bofur?” You spoke in a gently voice, concerned for the dwarf.

He turned to face you, sitting up that tad bit straighter. “Aye lass, I’m fine. Just a bit too quiet for my liking.”

“Why don’t you sing to us tonight? We know your singing isn’t THAT terrible.” You teased as you gave him your suggestion.

“I think the others have had quite enough of my singing, my lady.” He quipped as a playful smile resided on his face.

“Why don’t you sing to us lass?” Balin asked from his place across the fire.

You turned your attention towards the kind old dwarf and shook your head with a smile. “No, no, I’m quite certain the companies’ ears while be bled dry by the time I would finish any song I would sing.”

“Oh, c’mon Y/N, give us a song.” Fíli and Kíli spoke at once, almost in a whining manner, making you chuckle.

You closed your eyes and took a quick, deep breath before sighing and giving in to your companions’ request. “Fine. What would you all have me sing?”

“Maybe you should sing something that holds a deep meaning to you, my dear.” Gandalf spoke, holding his pipe that emitted smoke from both ends.

You smiled softly, knowing what song would be sung by you. “Okay. Although, I’m not certain that you may like it.” You gave faux warning as you flashed them a playful smile before it softened. “It will be a song from my people, from the enchanted forest that I came from.”

“We’re sure it will be great regardless of its’ origin.” “Bilbo smiled from his place beside you.

With that, you nodded and turned to look into the fire, beginning the sweet song your mother once sang for you as a child.

‘Where the north wind meets the sea,

There's a river full of memory.

Sleep, my darling, safe and sound,

For in this river all is found.’

They gaped at you in awe as your silken smooth voice carried throughout their small campsite, not one of them daring to make a single sound for they fear they would disturb the beauty they hear.

Images of your mother cradling your child sized body to hers in your body as she sang and combed her fingers through your hair. You smiled at the memory as the song continued its course past your lips.

‘In her waters, deep and true,

Lie the answers and a path for you.

Dive down deep into her sound,

But not too far or you'll be drowned.’

The usual brooding Durin heir had even set aside his stoic expression listening to the sweet sound of your voice. His shoulders slumped as he began to allow himself to relax. Balin had smiled as he noticed the change within Thorins usual tense stature.

Everyone was entranced by your song, not daring to look away as they somehow thought that will make them miss your melodic tune.

The tune so sweet, it neared the others to sleep, your voice lulling them by the second, although they refuse to give in.

‘Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear,

And in her song, all magic flows.

But can you brave what you most fear?

Can you face what the river knows?’

You though about the powers you possess, not differing much to Gandalf’s. Yours being more spiritual rather than the practical magic he produces alongside his knowledge, wit and charm. You revelled as you felt the similar sensation send a shiver down your spine.

‘Where the north wind meets the sea,

There's a mother full of memory.

Come, my darling, homeward bound,

When all is lost, then all is found.’

You hadn’t even realised that you closed your eyes during the final verse for as you noticed an orange glow shine that little bit dimmer. You opened your eyes slowly to be met with the company staring at you. You blushed from the number of eyes set upon your form.

“Wow…” Ori breathed out, followed by nods of agreement from Nori and Dori.

“That was amazing lass.”

“Beautiful.”

The compliments had continued to flow, forcing you to look down bashfully, a red as deep as the centre of the burning embers sat before you. “You’re all too kind.”

“I believe that it will be many years before that song you’ve sung for us tonight will leave my mind.” Thorin spoke, his usually icy, distant demeanour nowhere in sight, only a genuine smile upon his face.

You smiled and gave a curt nod to the dwarf.

“I think I’m going to sleep. Goodnight all.” Bilbo turned to head to his bedroll but spared a final glace over to you. “I hope we hear more songs from you along the way.”

Gandalf stood from his position against the base of the large tree. “I think we should follow Mister Baggings’ example and head to sleep.”

The others grunted and nodded in agreement, though their grunts had somehow sounded more cheerful. The thought alone made you giggle quietly to yourself. “I’ll take first watch.” You volunteered yourself happily, in a chipper mood from how calm the night has been.

“I’ll take the next watch after the lass.” Dwalin spoke and nodded towards you, making his own way over towards his bedroll.

As the others said their goodnights and well wishing of sweet dreams, you were left to seat yourself on the nearby rock, gaining some height for looking out for threats. You smiled as your mind wandered back to thoughts of your mother, your home.

Although it saddens you to know there is no returning for you, you still continue to smile as you’ve gained a new one after the tragic loss of your previous.

You brought your knees up to your chest, hugging your legs tightly as you gaze over at the sleeping dwarves, hobbit and wizard, smiling fondly.

“When all is lost, then all is found…huh…” You muttered to yourself, thinking solely of your newfound family. You were going to help them get back to their rightful home, even if it killed you.

_______________

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I KNOW the whole mother situation is practically the same from the second Frozen film but I prefer the second over the first immensely for some reason

And this song just hits right, yanno

Anywho, I hope you enjoy

I found this to be quite cute plus fun to write

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

A Leap of Faith (Fellowship x Reader)

This is the result of binging macha tea, Lilo and Stitch and Brooklyn 99 simultaneously. Another crackpost. Enjoy.

Pairings: Legolas x Reader—if you squint, and consider pulling on his pigtails as “romantic”, which I, personally, do. Some nice paternal! Aragorn x Reader energy going on in there too, for your comfort. 

“Cartography” is the study of maps, btw. 

Peering eyes and stolen glances, both riddled with skepticism and doubt—that was all to be found among Aragorn and Gandalf.

They each sat on a log, and warily observed the Fellowship as a whole. Both were situated within the dimmed forest by the glowing and flickering campfire.

Each of the eight fanatic Fellowship members before their eyes all naively gallivanted about in their usual bickering antics—nothing short of tomfoolery.

Merry and Pippin snickered loudly, as they each used their smoking pipe's spouts to press in a snoring Gimli's nostrils. He abruptly woke with a snort, and a Dwarvish shout of anger. 

As Merry and Pippin each ran away with boyish giggles—a stumbling and yelling Gimli hot on their tails—Sam and Frodo were sat against the thick trunk of a tree.

The raven-haired Hobbit wistfully sighed, and spoke of the Shire, whilst Sam adamantly comforted the sentimental Ring-bearer. 

Y/n and Legolas stood by the crackling fire, bickering, as usual. 

The girl held out a dirty worm towards the recoiling prince, who shouted at her to stay back. Thoughts of germs and his hygiene were on the forefront of his alarmed mind. 

As Y/n grinned and continued handing the wriggling, pink worm out towards a disgusted Legolas, Boromir bemusedly watched on.

"It's just a mere worm!" Y/n chuckled, eyes alight, and brows raised. 

"Stop touching me! Stay back!" Legolas squealed.

He promptly brought his closed fists in close to his chest, as he trained his wild eyes on the wriggling worm. 

"I'm not touching you!" Y/n childishly countered, moving the worm closer and closer towards the prince's chest. 

Fanatically gesturing both hands out at Y/n, Legolas pleadingly turned to a staring Boromir, and shouted in alarm.

"She's touching me! She's TOUCHING me!" 

"I'm not touching you!" Y/n laughed, waggling the worm back and forth. 

"AH! TOUCHING ME!" Legolas yelped in alarm, pointing one finger, held above the worm, down in gesture. 

"NOT touching!" Y/n corrected in a taunting tone.

"TOUCHING ME!" Legolas adamantly replied.

"It's free air!" Y/n countered, throwing the wriggling worm at a gasping Legolas' chest. 

The prince frantically swiped at his tunic with both hands, before he snapped his enraged eyes back to Y/n. He then took to chasing after her with a large stick—promptly leaving behind a guffawing Boromir.

Aragorn and Gandalf both winced their eyes, and curled their lips in disdain. 

These were the comrades they were tasked with to the save the world? They might've quit and let Sauron win right then and there, just to save the headaches alone. 

"It is as apparent as the hidden conditioner within Legolas' satchel," Gandalf began to muse, capturing Aragorn's idle attention, "that not all among us, though I'd much prefer to believe otherwise, can be trusted on this journey."

With a prolonged sigh past his nose, Aragorn lowered the spout of his wooden smoking pipe from his mouth, and responded. As he did so, he continuously dragged his wearied eyes along each and every member of the Fellowship—each one now a suspect. 

"You are worried one of them will try to take the Ring," Aragorn lulled, his voice more knowing than curious. 

"Worried? Indeed," Gandalf drew out, paying particular attention to Boromir. "I cannot dismiss the warning in my heart, or that of Elrond's."

As Aragorn slowly ran his calculating eyes along the Fellowship, paying particular attention to his apprentice, Y/n (of whom still cackled loudly with a fleeing Merry and Pippin—both an angry Elf and Dwarf hot on their tails, as they ran rings around the fire) he took a moment to respond.

"What would you have me do?"

Inhaling in a wearied manner, Gandalf lowly spoke. He threw a heedful glance down at the ranger sat beside him, who in turn met his urging stare.

"We are to conduct an investigation," Gandalf began to declare. “In my stead, you shall thoroughly examine each and every member."

"Every member?" Aragorn repeated, raising his brows, before his conflicted gaze ran on over towards Y/n.

Catching the ranger's torn visage and trusting eyes, as he studied his younger cartography apprentice, Gandalf flickered his own attention on over towards Y/n.

She was now barricading herself behind a log with Merry and Pippin, laughing, as she and the two Hobbits threw worm after worm at a shouting Legolas and Gimli. 

"Well..." Gandalf lulled in amusement, "perhaps not all are to be investigated."

"Perhaps not all, indeed," Aragorn gently smiled, huffing in amusement, as he studied the girl's questionable antics. 

Slowly studying Pippin next, who bore similar qualities to the chuckling girl sat beside him, Aragorn quirked a brow up in Gandalf's direction, and spoke in a slightly bemused tone. 

"If we are following that logic, then Pippin, too, should be exempt from the investigation."

"No, absolutely not. I want him thoroughly investigated. In fact, examine him first."

~

A few grueling weeks had passed the Fellowship by, and a few more taxing days afterwards had since also passed. This was all following the harrowing ordeal within the Mines of Moria, of course.

Gandalf was now gone, which left a wearied Aragorn alone to conduct the investigation. 

As the Fellowship trekked in a silent line through the thick, mossy forest, Aragorn spotted a small clearing up ahead.

The meadow in question allowed sunlight to finally stream down in open rays—a much needed privilege for the wearied Fellowship.

It was also the perfect location to thoroughly examine each and every member of the Fellowship. 

After Aragorn had pushed the Fellowship a little further, so that they all emerged into the grassy, wild flower-strewn clearing, he had called for them all to stop and take a rest.

In response, Boromir and Gimli seized the chance to light a small fire, and prepare a stew.

As the Hobbits all collapsed onto the ground in a sighing heap—relieved to grant their shorter legs a break—Y/n, too, made a move to join them on the floor.

"Not you, Y/n," Aragorn gently instructed, inspecting his sword within the glinting sunlight. 

Sharing a glance with the Hobbits, Y/n knitted her brows. She nonetheless obediently rose once more, and walker across the grass to meet with the ranger—her teacher. 

"You're in trouble..." Legolas teasingly sung out.

"I know where you sleep at night," Y/n, in turn, sung back, mimicking his melodic tune.

As she strutted by the Elf, whose face contorted in fear, she steadily made her way on over towards Aragorn.

"What is it?" Y/n questioned him. She now stood a few yards away from the rest of the curious Fellowship.

Sheathing his sword, Aragorn placed a hand in the small of Y/n's back. She was the only person there he trusted above all else, as he and her had stood the test of time together—the ranger having been training the young cartographer since she were merely ten. 

With their backs now turned to the indiscreetly glancing Fellowship behind, Aragorn quietly spoke to Y/n. 

"It has come to my attention that someone within our company is not to be trusted with the Ring," he warily began, paying a skeptical glance backwards at the seven curious members. “They could be leaking information to Sauron. The entire Fellowship is under investigation."

Knitting her brows, Y/n lightly recoiled her head, responding. "That's ludicrous! No one here is a traitor!"

"Do not take this the wrong way," Aragorn began in a wince, half over what he had to say, and half over the girl's louder than necessary voice, "but you are a cartographer...what makes you so sure of their intent?"

"Ah!" Y/n started, holding up one finger. “But it is BECAUSE I am a cartographer that I am so sure!" 

Knitting his brows dubiously, Aragorn took a moment to respond. He was quite used to her antics.

"I don't like where this is going—"

"You see," Y/n interjected brightly, "because I am good at reading maps—”

"Please don't finish that sentence-"

"I know how to find my way into someone's heart!" she finished, drawing a love-heart with her fingers.

Aragorn winced his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath.

Studying his mannerisms, Y/n pressed on—panning and open hand out behind her at every Fellowship member.

"Look, what I'm trying to say," she began defending herself and her friends, "is that I know these gentlemen—I know everything about them."

Seizing the moment to teach his apprentice a valuable lesson in the ways of being a survivalist ranger, Aragorn threw on his lecturing face—one she knew all too well.

"Well, you're a poor ranger if you don't think that people can surprise you," Aragorn tutored. 

"Not these people!" Y/n affirmed.

Finding that Aragorn merely, and rather doubtfully, quirked a brow, Y/n tutted her tongue. She turned to the side, so that she once again faced the Fellowship.

They, in turn, quickly averted their eyes—some striking up lazy conversations, and others idly whistling.

"Here, watch this," Y/n started again, scanning her eyes along the Fellowship, causing Aragorn to do the same. “I know what EVERYONE is going to do tonight."

As the Fellowship warily glanced between each other—concerned over their nightly antics being exposed aloud—Y/n began gesturing towards each and every member, demonstrating that she indeed did know her friends quite well. 

"Frodo is going to go to sleep early, so that he can wake up first," Y/n began rattling off, raising her brows at a gulping Frodo. “Simply because he enjoys having five minutes alone."

As Frodo lolled his head from side to side, considering her words—ultimately deciding that she was correct with a hum—Y/n pointed at Sam, promptly continuing on. 

"Sam is going to count each strand of rosemary within his herb container, as a way to fall asleep," she pressed on, earning a slow nod of concord from Sam. “Reminds him of home.”

Dragging her hand across to Merry and Pippin, Y/n spoke again. 

"Merry and Pippin are going to whisper weird things into Gimli's ears, because they're trying to subliminally teach him to give them both piggyback rides—”

"I'm sorry, what?" Gimli interjected. He snapped his glare across at a sheepish Merry and Pippin, who each rubbed a hand at the back of their necks.

"AND Gimli will say he's going to take the nightwatch, but promptly fall asleep," Y/n pressed on, dragging her pointed finger away from Gimli to land on a very wary Legolas. 

"Legolas is going to sneak off, and crack open his conditioner he thinks we all don't know about," Y/n exposed, causing the prince's gaze to widen. “And then he's going to douse all his locks in it to collect moisture overnight."

Humming in begrudging agreement, Legolas flickered his gaze up towards the sky in loving thought of his fragrant conditioner—nodding his head once in admittance. 

"That is correct," Legolas shamelessly confessed. 

As Boromir stoked the fire, he began lifting a silver pot of stew from the ground, so that he could place it over the fire on the suspended wooden spit. 

"AND," Y/n brightly began in conclusion, pointing at a preoccupied Boromir, "if I run, and leap at Boromir, he will most certainly catch me in his arms."

Before anyone within the temporary camp could comprehend the girl's words, she had immediately begun sprinting on over towards Boromir, who still held the pot of soup in his hands. 

"COMING IN!" Y/n hastily announced, darting towards an alarmed Boromir with fast movements.

"NO, I'M HOLDING THE STEW—”

With a crash and a clatter of the stew falling to the grass, Y/n had promptly leapt from the ground, and landed in Boromir’s arms, bridal-style.

Grinning, as Boromir stumbled backwards, Y/n sent her beam on over towards Aragorn.

"See?” Y/n began in glee. “I told you! I know each and EVERY member inside and out!"

As Aragorn bit down on his lower lip, Y/n patted Boromir on the chest thrice.

"Nothing to worry about at all! This Fellowship is legitimate!"

Promptly scurrying out from Boromir's arms, like a skittish cat, Y/n met the ground below again with a soft thud. She dusted off her hands, ignoring the sighs from her mentor.

Possessing all the confidence in the world, Y/n placed her hands on her hips and spoke one more time.

"We're going to be just fine!"

If only her words remained true. 

[katjaschmitt]

Study for "Gandalf" - abstract version

[abeautifuldayfortea]

Storm

Summary: For the lovely @ladylouoflothlorien who requested this, I hope you enjoy! A/N and timeline for this story is below the story. Reader is an elf child from Celebrian’s escort travelling from Imladris to Lothlorien in TA 2509. For context, Osgiliath was lost in TA 2475. Quote in italics from Unfinished Tales, JRR Tolkien.

Hi hon, could I please request something with Saruman & Reader where the reader was rescued by him as a child and has been raised by him. Something a little angsty where they’re watching his descent into madness and serving the dark lord. Maybe he tries to hide what’s going on from them but they were raised smart and it’s not exactly difficult to figure out. I think this definitely calls for some(?) angst but as for where the loyalties and morality of the reader lie by the end of it is completely up to you. I just saw you were interested in writing for Saruman and this popped into my head, which is strange because I haven’t written anything like this before!!

Words: 1380

From his window in Orthanc, Saruman watched with calculated interest as a lone figure rode hard, out of the safety of Isengard, shrinking and disappearing altogether as they turned behind the feet of the mountains. It was for the north that they rode, onwards toward Imladris and Doriath, seeking Radaghast with his message, and in time they would return, bearing news to him from distant lands. Something about the child had changed irrevocably and though they tried to conceal from him its nature, he could sense their mind had altered from the course that he had set it on. Even the firm persuasion of his voice could not fully ease their troubles.

Making fully sure they were out of view, he sat smoking in thoughtful silence within the privacy of his chambers. Never before had he reason to doubt their will or their capability ere the shadow of Sauron had taken up his mantle in Barad Dur. Yet now, his faith in them wavered for he saw within them a growing doubt, no more than a flicker, but what he was sure would in time grow to a fire that would consume them both. This he feared beyond all else and though he knew it was wise to dispose of them, his heart refused and reminded him of a simpler time, if ever there was one.

Beyond the whistling despair that painted the skirmish he had found them by  the gaping mouth of the Redhorn Pass as he journeyed south to the new capital of Minas Tirith to proffer advice. His absence had cost the Gondorians dearly and thirty years on, the sacking of Osgiliath still marred the hearts of many like a suffocating tar. They needed guidance and he would be the one to give it.

But there, at the Redhorn Pass he sensed the biting sharpness of a greater grief and fear. Overhead, the looming shadow of Caradhras cast itself, breathing its chill on the very ground at its roots like the beckoning onset of winter.

The hewn earth. The song of the mountains echoing down the channels. The iron tang of blood on the wind. A memory came to him then on the same winds, a time long ago, far away and hazy as though he stood on the other side of a frosted window, intruding on something that was both intimate and distant. The shaping of iron, the forging of rings and a young man with dark hair and his master by his side. His name was Curunír then.

The vision awoke with him a great unquenchable desire for a past he could not quite remember and yet he yearned for every ounce of it, but as he did, it faded and however hard Saruman pursued it, he could grasp at nothing but a frosty wind. Before his feet lay the scattered bodies of elves, the battered standard of Imladris laying torn … and something else. The bated breath of a child. He was watched.

Saruman turned then beyond the violence and bloodshed, and toward a copse of shivering young oak trees. An elf child. Young but not quite naïve. Impressionable still. His eyes lit.

He remembered with sour hatred the founding of the White Council and Gandalf. His endearment with the hobbit people of the north and though he had mocked him then, he understood now what bound him so tightly to that merry folk. And while his heart went out to the child, he was struck with the bitter undercurrent of jealousy for Gandalf’s hobbit folk. He would take them under his wing to forge as his creation. Not as a child of the woodlands but one that would love fire and iron.

“Well, will you not come forth and tell me your name?” His voice was a gentle suggestion, light, guised as an offer but beneath it was a power so compelling that they could not refuse it. And so it was that the child strode forward to meet Saruman without fear or suspicion and gave him their name. And it is told that they were ensnared and spellbound to him, for a person’s name is ever sweet to the ears of the one it belongs to. In Saruman’s face, the child saw the visage of their lifeless father, only older and wiser for that was the veil he assumed to their eyes. Everywhere Saruman went, the child followed, growing tall and lithe like the long shadows of dusk in the even longer march of time. Their sharp eyes were ever watching and learning, for along his many wandering travels, Saruman taught them the secret way of words and to delve beyond them to discern secret thoughts.

By the time Saruman received the Keys of Orthanc, he was just as endeared to his charge as they were to him and it was as though they were molded from his own flesh and blood. To his charge, he spoke openly of preserving the Free Peoples and while they knew of his research of magic rings, he hid from them his truest desire to be recognised and undisputedly powerful. To rule. Yet this they discerned also, for they walked together through many centuries and as the time passed them by, they saw that he strayed from the road he had set himself upon, walking in the murky in-between of good and evil.

It was at the second meeting of the White Council that it was revealed to them, clear as day. There would be no attack upon Dol Guldur despite Gandalf’s protestations. It was unlike him to be careless, to claim the Ring had fallen to the sea, to deny the possibility of Sauron’s return. Saruman was always thorough, and they knew this to be true. Gandalf sat then, silent, smoking and Saruman mocked him as he always had done.

A beat.

It was in the space of a thought that Gandalf passed his gaze over to the elf by Saruman’s side, searching for some unknown thing within their gaze.

Looking keenly at Saruman he drew his pipe and sent out a great ring of smoke with many smaller rings that followed it. Then he put up his hand, as if to grasp them, and they vanished. (Unfinished Tales, Tolkien)

And the moment passed as quickly as though it never happened. The child who was now no longer a child, watched on as the hazy fumes meandered lazily out of his hands and they knew then that they were not mistaken.

Altered and seduced as Saruman’s mind was, his charge remained steadfast by his side, for the love between them was too great, though they grew ever more uneasy at the methods he resorted to. A ring he had crafted and many coloured robes he wrought, but he did not don them. They noticed the long nights Saruman spent secluded within the high chamber of Orthanc, casting his mind this way and that and communing at times with some veiled power that they shuddered to think of. A host of orcs and men arrived at the gates of Isengard and were welcomed. “As I have given you a home, they too shall have theirs” he had said, and he cast such a pitiful look at them that his charge relented. Great pits were delved and filled with fire and it was with despair that the young elf found themselves at the shores of darkness, upon the cusp of a war that should never have been.

And yet now they rode hard to find Radaghast and set his beasts to Saruman’s task. Before them lay the chance to turn away, to divert the course of the coming war. A chance to warn of bloodshed. A chance to stop children being orphaned before their time. In a sleepless dream, they walked in the halls of memory, to a bloody day at the Redhorn Pass, Celebrian’s abduction, the loss of family and the beginning of a new one. A day when a weary traveller came by and took them in as his own child. 

An impossible choice. One that would result in war either way.

They laughed at the folly of it, a peal of bright bells on the air for in the moment for there was nothing they could do but bask in the freedom of clear air with the countless miles between themselves and Isengard. A fair wind danced beside them, masking the foul tang of iron deep beneath the impenetrable tower of Orthanc. Overhead, the stars wheeled as night came and went like the swift kiss of ignorance upon their brow and for a moment in the wan gaze of the moon, everything in the world was as it should be. The knowing silence of the coming storm.

A/N: This was a challenging request (and my first for that matter) and I had much trouble trying to fit in a plausible scenario that matched the original timeline. A goodly amount of research and two weeks worth of fretting over the timeline went into this, but it still feels off :/ and I can’t say that I’m happy with the finished product.

Because the request asked for the Saruman’s descent to evil, the child/reader would need to have a lifespan that would need to stretch for a minimum of 500 years or so. Elves are the only race (bar Tom Bombadil and other strange beings) that has a lifespan matching this and so it is the race that the reader in this story belongs to. Personally, I am of the opinion that elves would take in other orphaned elves and so the scenario from which the child is rescued from must be far enough from the major elf cities to warrant them being raised by Saruman. Hence, I placed them as a part of Celebrian’s escort bound for Lothlorien from Rivendell in the year TA 2509. This small party was ambushed by orcs at the Redhorn Pass (I chose to set the scene at the junction between the Redhorn Pass and the Redhorn Gate because the Pass is described as ‘narrow’ along the cliffs and hence there would not be much room for the reader to hide! The general timeline I used is below:

TA 1000 – Saruman arrives in ME and goes into the east on regular trips

TA 1601 – The Shire settled

TA 2400ish – Saruman returns to the west, discovers Gandalf’s possession of Narya

TA 2463 – White Council formed, Saruman becomes jealous of Gandalf because he is mooted to be head of the council instead of Saruman

TA 2475 – Osgiliath taken

TA 2509 – Celebrian captured

2759 – Saruman gets the keys to Orthanc and settles in Isengard

2851 – 2nd White Council meeting, Gandalf urges attack on dol Guldur, smoke ring incident

[ladylouoflothlorien]

Sleeping Desires - Part 1

Bofur x Female Reader Word count: 2018 WARNING: This fic will contain mature themes, absolutely do not read this if you are underage, thank you. (18+ only) Summary: This was affectionately titled “Bofur LEMONS for LUNA???” in my google drive, and I think that’s all you need to understand this. It was born from the idea of Bofur having a crush on (read: utterly all-consuming devotion for) the reader, but thinking that it was unreciprocated until he overhears her having a rather explicit dream. This fic will be a multi-part, potentially 2 but most likely 3, so stay tuned.  Additionally, I have turned this into a game of ‘how many euphemisms can I come up with for dwarves?’ This part contains 5, and I’m pretty proud of that.

Bofur settled down with his pipe, back against a tree, as he prepared himself for the long and lonely dark of the middle shift of the night watch. For the earlier shifts, it would not be wholly unusual for other members of the company to still be awake, but by the middle shift the only person not asleep would be the one on watch. That was not to say that Bofur didn’t welcome the solitude. It was true that he was generally a far more outgoing and jovial dwarf than the rest of the motley crew of companions he found himself travelling with, and it was also true that he generally preferred not to be by himself, but there was another truth that he had come to find in recent months; some things are far easier to indulge in when there are no prying eyes to catch you at it.

Now, the particular indulgence that had led to this realisation was not at all a shameful one - leastways not in his estimation of the word - but he had his own reasoning for wanting it to be private all the same.

Bofur took a long drag of his pipe and slowly exhaled the smoke, watching the grey tendrils climb higher and higher before disappearing altogether, and then he finally turned his gaze to the human woman curled up in her bedroll beside him. It was sweet, he thought, how she seemed to have this habit of making herself smaller as she slept, tucking her legs up until the lump created by her sleeping form appeared not all that dissimilar in size to a dwarrowdam. Most dwarrow he knew tended to stretch themselves out when they slept, making themselves look as big as possible. The dwarf thought back as he had done many times to the moment Gandalf had introduced the woman to their company, claiming she’d been sent by the grace of the Valar from another world to assist them in their quest. Gandalf had not specified which of the Valar had been involved in that decision, though if Bofur had to hazard a guess, he’d say it was most likely Mahal scheming to get one of his own married off, for Durin himself knew Bofur would wife her if he had the chance.

But Bofur did not think he would. He knew his own merits as a Dwarf to be sure, and he knew he was a long way off unattractive - both in his looks and his merry personality - but he also knew that he was judging himself on the standards of his own kind. He had no idea what would or would not be appealing to a human woman.

His infatuation for the woman was the source of his new indulgence, which was essentially to gaze upon her most comely form as much as was dwarvenly possible. His desire to keep this indulgence a secret came from his belief that she very likely did not feel the same. As long as none of the other dwarves picked up on what he was doing, he could avoid both the embarrassment she would feel at having to - no doubt - politely but firmly decline his interest and the humiliation that would follow for himself at being rejected in a place where he would be stuck without a place to hide and lick his metaphorical wounds.  

Tonight he had placed his bedroll beside hers - though at a respectable distance apart - and he had set up for watch against the tree that brought him still closer to her. He did not do this as often as he would like, for he was incredibly conscious that if he did so it would be noticed by at least one other member of the company. What would then follow would be relentless teasing, and then no doubt his secret would be outed to all. No, Bofur was very content to merely snatch the few precious moments he could to gaze upon the woman in complete secrecy and thereby forego the risk of discovery.

Bofur was torn from his current line of thought by a quiet groan, and after a moment he realised it had come from the very woman occupying the entirety of the free space in his brain. The dwarf frowned. Was she in pain? Was she having a nightmare? Normally she was very quiet when she slept, turning or shifting her position maybe once or twice throughout the night. It was a stark contrast from the dwarves who kicked and flailed and snored loud enough to rattle the tiles off a roof - that is, if there was a roof over their heads, which more often than not on the journey there hadn’t been. The woman rolled over onto her back, and only then did Bofur notice the flush on her cheeks and the furrow between her brows. He felt a cold pit in his stomach, naturally assuming that she had caught a fever, but then her fingers loosely fisted the thin fabric of her blanket and her plump lips parted to let out a quiet but distinct moan. Bofur froze. Or at least, most of him did. Beneath the fabric of his breeches, his treacherous Dwarven steel twitched slightly. The dwarf swallowed and tried not to think on it, forcing his body to relax somewhat and pretend he hadn’t heard anything. The lass was sleeping, and the sound had not been meant for him, he would not dishonour her by pretending that it was. Still, he could not take his eyes off her, and guiltily drank in the sight of her squirming under her covers. Bofur did not think he would ever be granted a more wondrous sight, and so he could hardly be blamed for not averting his eyes. Besides… Whatever line of thought he’d been about to pursue, it was completely halted when the woman’s lips parted once more. “O-Oh, Bofur…” The sheer speed at which a certain part of his body stood to attention was frankly impressive.  Up until that point, though the substance of her dream had been fairly clear, he’d had no indication of who exactly she’d been dreaming of. Now it seemed as though he had confirmation that she was dreaming of him. Bofur couldn’t quite believe it, but then she moaned his name again, and Bofur was really, really trying not to watch the swell of her generous breasts as her quickened breath made them rise and fall more dramatically than usual. Bofur was used to dwarrowdams, who had little more than was strictly necessary to nurse a child…

The Dwarf looked away suddenly, blushing, and feeling rather like a voyeur even though he hadn’t - and could not have - expected that this would happen when he settled down beside her. But then he could hear the sound of her shifting against her sheets, continuing to whine softly under her breath, and he had to look back. Bofur was startled to see that all her shifting about had brought her blanket down around her waist and oh sweet Durin’s Beard this was too much. The strings holding her blouse closed had loosened, allowing the shirt open, and the dwarf was only barely saved from - or maybe robbed of - a glimpse at her pert nipples. His miner’s mattock was rock hard, straining against his breeches and practically begging for some attention, and Bofur had to fist his hands against the dirt to stop himself from doing just that. Bofur refused to get himself off to the dreaming woman. If there was one thing he wasn’t, it was a pervert. Oh, he might’ve gotten himself off quietly thinking of her once or twice - or maybe more than that - but he was certain that there was a line, however thin, between thinking of her whilst he did so and actually doing it with her sleeping form right beside him, letting out little sounds that were not truly meant for him to hear… even if they were meant for a version of him in her dreams.

Oh Mahal she was dreaming of him. The reality of that hit him again, and he had to thud his head back firmly against the tree at his back to clear his mind of any mental imagery the thought conjured. The woman herself wasn’t exactly being helpful. Bofur didn’t quite have the strength to look away, and he could see her hips writhing so aggressively he was truly impressed she hadn't jolted herself awake by now. The miner had to quickly swallow a groan when he looked at her expression again, with her face contorted in pleasure and her bottom lip swollen slightly from being bitten. Suddenly, she threw her head back and her lips parted in a silent scream as her thighs shook violently, and then she slumped back down against her bedroll, panting like she’d just been running. It took Bofur’s mind a second to catch up with what had actually happened before he realised that she had just had a real orgasm from a dream about him, but when it finally clicked the amount of blood that rushed downwards made him so lightheaded he had to plant his palms firmly against the ground to stop himself from falling to the side. The woman groaned softly in obvious contentment, and rolled onto her side, now facing his direction.

“Mmmm, warn a girl before fucking her senseless why don’t you…”  

Now, Bofur really hadn’t needed that. It was honestly a wonder that her words hadn’t made him cum right then and there. After a moment he noticed that his own breathing was almost as fast as hers had been, and he took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. It didn’t really work.

About 20 minutes later, when Bofur was sure the woman was actually sleeping properly and wouldn’t be putting on the same display for anyone else, he woke up the dwarf who would be relieving him from his shift on watch; Oin. In all that time, his spear had remained upright, trying to poke through his clothing. A rather unfortunate truth began to dawn on him when he settled down in his own bedroll and attempted to sleep - he wouldn’t be getting any rest until he took care of his little problem and polished his sword. He was ridiculously grateful that it was Oin on watch, as the old dwarf was certain to get tired of holding up his ear trumpet at some point, and when he did he wouldn’t be able to hear the kinds of quiet sounds Bofur would be making and attempting to muffle. Sure enough a few minutes later, the trumpet was lowered, and as surreptitiously as possible Bofur snatched his hat off his head to use as a cover over his mouth in case he wasn’t quite able to catch all his groans in his throat. One hand shakily slipped down into his breeches, fingers curling firmly around the handle of his axe. It was difficult, but he managed to force his hips to remain still as he brought himself to completion quickly, knowing that Oin would likely notice if he moved around too much. He stubbornly tried not to think of the woman, but the tighter his pleasure coiled in his belly the more his mind strayed to her face, thrown back during the height of her passionate dream. In the end, he guiltily visualised her, trying to imagine just what exactly she had dreamt about. It didn’t take him long to spill over his hand, and he cleaned himself up as best as he could with a spare undershirt that already badly needed cleaning. Bofur fixed his hat back on his head, and though he supposed he should really be embarrassed with what he’d just done, he wasn’t. He was certain Oin hadn’t noticed after all, Mahal bless him. Bofur shuffled around on his bedroll until he found a comfortable position and it didn’t take long before his eyes closed and a peaceful sleep claimed him for the rest of the night.  Forever Tags: @sweeticedtea​ @cd1242​ @strongandfreedc​ @pixierox101​ @jotink78​ @luna-xial​ @underthemoon-n​

[strangeradventuresofp]

second thoughts (legolas x reader)

The Fellowship of the Ring - Part 3

masterlist

warnings: fighting, character death

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

a/n : part 3!!! i have so much fun writing this story and im so glad that i get to continue writing these chapters for you guys. thank you so much to everyone who is reading and showing support, it honestly means so much to me you have no idea. anyway, without further ado, here’s chapter 3! i hope you enjoy<3

“Are we lost?”

“No.”

“I think we are.”

“Shh! Gandalf’s thinking.”

“Merry?”

“What?”

“I’m hungry.” Pippin and Merry whispered between each other. They were sat opposite each other, their voices flowing through the space. Sam was sat up against one of the rocks near Frodo. Gandalf had perched himself upon a rock. He lifted a pipe to and from his lips, blowing out smoke when necessary. You were sat beside Boromir, who was beside Aragorn. Legolas was stood, his back leaned against rock, close to Aragorn.

“I miss home.” You mentioned. Boromir smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you gently into his side.

“After the journey, we will return. We will drink and feast and celebrate. And everything will go back to normal.” He assured and you gave a small smile. Though, you were unsure of whether you wanted that to be your reality when you were to finish the journey. You had quite enjoyed the thought of travelling with Aragorn and then when his time had come… Well, you had not thought that far just yet. Anyway, this was all hypothetical, of course, as it had much started to dawn on you that you might not get the chance to return. Luck had been on your side thus far but for how long would it continue to come to your aid?

Legolas noticed the worried look that fell over your features and his brows drew together, wishing that he could read your mind to know what troubled you. He was about to pull you to the side to ask how you were when Gandalf let out a loud noise.

“It’s that way.” He pointed with his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he looked at Frodo who was sat beside him.

“He’s remembered!” Merry said with a grin, pulling the pipe from his lips. He pushed himself to his feet.

Gandalf stood with the aid of his staff. “No, but the air doesn’t smell so foul down here. If in doubt, young Meriadoc, always follow your nose.” He led the way, holding his staff up so that the light exuding from it would reveal more of the path. Legolas held back to walk with you. You smiled at him and he returned it. Each member of the Fellowship stepped down the decreasing concrete.

“Let me risk a little more light.” Gandalf muttered. His staff brightened the way. “Behold, the great realm, the dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf.”

Your lips parted almost immediately in awe, breath drawing from your throat. There were pillars hundreds of feet tall, all so intricately designed and decorated. Somehow amongst the darkness all of the stone seemed to turn from a dull grey to a shimmering silver. Dips and grooves were so perfectly sculpted that it seemed surreal.

“Well, there’s an eyeopener, make no mistake.” Sam said. His eyes were glistening with wonder as well as everyone else’s.

“It’s beautiful.” You whispered. It seemed as if the words were forced from your mouth. There was so much beauty and brilliance in the world that you had yet to see; the sort of the thing that excited you.

It did not excite you for long, however. Once you had been walking for a while again, Gimli paused. His eyes quickly scanned over skeletons leading to a room. He took an audible breath, running into the room. Your eyes widened and you quickly followed him. Your heart ached at the sight of him. His face was stained with more tears, his eyes flooded. His wails were unforgettable. A series of sobs left his lips, his chest heaving up and down as you gently placed a hand on his shoulder. You could feel tears begin to pool in yours eyes. You had not noticed that the others had joined you until the sound of extra footsteps echoed off of the walls.

“Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.” The wizard took a breath. You moved away from Gimli, standing beside Legolas with a small sniffle. “He is dead, then. It is as I feared.” He handed his things to Pippin, delicately moving a skeleton to pick up a dusty book that it had been holding, once. A shiver ran all the way up your spine, your skin prickling in goosebumps. You snapped your head around to look through the door behind you, anxiety growing within your frame.

“I have a bad feeling about this place.” You hissed into the elf’s ear and he nodded, leaning into Aragorn’s ear slightly.

“We must move on. We cannot linger.”

Gandalf turned the page. “They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums. Drums in the deep.” He turned the page. “We cannot get out. Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming—”

Suddenly a loud noise captivated the attention of everybody. The noise came from beside Pippin, who was stood looking extremely guilty beside a headless body. Before you knew it, the body fell flimsily down the hole beside it and the weight that it was attached to quickly followed. If you wanted not to be noticed then perhaps bringing Pippin along was not the right idea, for the noises echoed loudly around the space. After a little while of silence, Boromir let out an audible breath of relief.

“Fool of a took!” Gandalf snapped, tossing the book to the floor. “Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity.” He snatched back his staff and hat and Pippin looked to the floor.

There was a faint bang in the distance. If anyone’s eyes had wondered, they were now firmly back on the hobbit. Breathing was audible from everyone in the room. You looked worriedly at Boromir, he, too, looked anxious. Your breath quickened, turning around to face the door but turning back when Sam spoke.

“Mister Frodo…” At his words, Frodo pulled out his sword which was glowing blue. Your eyes widened at the sight. He had told you before that his Uncle Bilbo had gifted it to him before he left Rivendell. It glowed blue if there were—

“Orcs.” Legolas confirmed at the overwhelming sound of energetic screams and shouts. Boromir turned, running to the door.

“Boromir!” You warned, gasping sharply when two arrows landed not even an inch away from his face, protruding out from the door. Sprinting to him, you helped him shove the door closed. You could make out Aragorn saying something to the hobbits over the vicious pumping of your heart. Instinctively you turned your back to the door, holding it shut whilst Legolas threw an axe to you. It threaded through the handle of the door kindly and you stepped away from the door slowly, pulling out your knives. The door began to wave outwards and inwards, like it was victim to an angry storm. Weapons were cutting through the wood at speed and soon enough the doors caved to the Orcs’ will. They came flooding through the space like they were on a water current. Legolas and Aragorn shot their arrows but there were too many. They continued to pour through until they reached you.

With a roar, you brought your knife up to counter a sword, plunging your other into the face of your attacker. You dodged an oncoming axe, dropping the floor to swipe its legs before heaving its own weapon into its chest. Swiftly you sliced through the flesh of one’s neck, spinning to punch another before you stabbed it in the heart; if they had hearts, that is, you did not really know. Your fingers tightened around the hilts of your knives, searching around. You quickly sheathed your knives, picking up an axe from one of those that you just killed. As you made for one about to attack Boromir from behind, you swung the axe over your head, burying it deep inside its skull. The body fell to its knees and you struggled to pull the weapon out, forcefully kicking the body to release the axe. Shouting, swinging at one’s knees before slicing its head clean from its body.

You shielded your face as rocks came flying from where the door was once. Sheer horror smacked you in the face at the sight of a cave troll. It had chains around its neck and a huge mallet in its hand. It came bounding right up to Sam after Legolas shot an arrow into the centre of its chest.

“Sam!” You cried, breathing as he managed to crawl out of the way. When you turned around, an Orc landed a punch straight to your nose. You fell, startled, wincing slightly at the pain. Your eyes widened as it swung its axe towards your head. With barely inches between you and the blade, you managed to roll out of the way. Suddenly the Orc let out a cry of pain, and you used the opportunity to ram your knives into each of its legs before pulling one out and driving it into its chest. When it fell to the floor, you managed to take a quick glance at the body. There was an arrow sticking out of the fleshy part of the side. A small smile tugged on your lips amongst the madness, your eyes searching.

Your smile faded when your gaze landed on Legolas. The troll swung its chain at him with ferocity, causing rocks to fall from the pillars and the walls.

“Legolas!” You screamed his name, tears in your eyes. He managed to swerve from all of the troll’s attacks. You did not see much of what happened next, for the number of Orcs seemed to increase again, but you cut down all of the Orcs that came your way with much frustration, the tears of worry in your eyes turning to those of anger.

When you next got a chance to look at the troll, it was attacking Frodo, Merry and Pippin. You began to make your way towards them, lunging at each creature that came to attack you, carving into their skin as if they were meat for dinner. The cave troll grabbed Frodo by his foot, and you called to him, raising the aggressiveness of your attacks unintentionally, frustration consuming your entire body. Frodo managed to slice something from the hand of the troll, giving Aragorn the chance to stick a spear just under its breast. It smacked Aragorn to the side and he hit a rock before his body tumbled lifelessly to the floor. Frodo desperately tried to run around the troll but to no avail. The troll pushed the spear into the hobbits chest.

A sob was forced from your throat, your chest heaving for breath. Merry and Pippin jumped on the troll, stabbing at its neck relentlessly. It managed to shake Merry off, dropping him to the floor from a height. Gimli ran at it, attempting to smack it with his axe but got kicked to the side. As you screamed, your knives tore and shredded through its thick skin. You swung an axe from the ground up to land firmly in the back of it. Legolas drew an arrow, aiming carefully before shooting it. The arrow buried itself in its mouth. It let out a noise. Then it fell to the ground, spreading the dust over the other bodies that lay there.

It took you no time at all to run to where Frodo’s and Aragorn’s bodies were. A few tears fell down your cheeks while you sprinted. You sighed in relief to see Aragorn crawling toward the hobbits body, but you frowned, noticing that Frodo still had not moved. The lump in your throat grew. Your breathing felt restricted, a small sob falling from your lips. Aragorn rolled Frodo’s body over into his lap.

A series of groans came from the mouth of the hobbit and your eyes widened, thinking that your ears had deceived you. The hobbit was stabbed, surely, he was dead! But Sam ran to your side, taking a deep breath before he looked to the rest of the Fellowship.

“He’s alive.” He confirmed. Everyone seemed to breathe at that.

“I’m alright. I’m not hurt.” Said Frodo, clutching his chest.

You smiled. “But how?”

“I think there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye,” Gandalf suggested with a knowing look. When you looked back towards Frodo, he pulled the fabric of his undershirt down, revealing a glimmering white chainmail material.

“Mithril.” Gimli whispered, a smile on his face. “You are full of surprises, Master Baggins.” Y stood, laughing breathily before turning to those behind you. Your gaze landed on Boromir and you smiled, wiping a bit of blood from his cheek comically. He chuckled, engulfing you in a hug. He gently pressed his lips to your to the top of your head and you smiled. Boromir left you to check on Merry and Pippin and you turned to Legolas, smiling.

“I was worried for you, mellon nin.” You avoided his gaze.

“And I for you.” He said. You could hear the smile on his face when he spoke, and your smile widened. You were about to say something else when more manic screams and shouts were heard, identical to the ones that were heard before the Orcs attacked you. Your eyes widened, turning to Gandalf.

“To the bridge of Khazad-Dum.”

And with that the Fellowship took off down the stony halls of Moria. You were all sprinting at full speed. It was a little surprising that the hobbits could keep up, but they had proven many times by now that they could hold their own and should never be underestimated. Screams echoed behind you and you turned to look, slowing when you noticed how many Orcs there were. This was a battle you were destined to lose. Fingers wrapped firmly around your wrist and you snapped your head forward again to see Boromir holding to you with one of his arms, pulling you along. Orcs started to pop up out of the floor and crawl down from the ceiling and quite quickly it was easy to see that there were way too many of them to even fathom fighting. The Fellowship slowed to a stop and you created a circle, pulling your knives from their sheaths and staring down the Orcs that surrounded you. The circle seemed to get smaller and smaller and soon you were shoulder to shoulder with Legolas and Boromir. The Orcs smiled maniacally at you. You took a sharp breath, ready to lunge at them when a very loud rumbling noise came from the end of the corridor.

Immediately, the Orcs turned frail, squeaking with fear and soon they scattered off just as quickly as they had appeared. You were alone again. The noise reverberated through the halls.

“What is that?” Somehow you had the nerve to ask the question.

“A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world.” You watched Legolas’ eyes widen slightly at the wizard’s words and you swallowed dryly. “This foe is beyond any of you. Run!”

Gandalf made for the opening that you had all meant to go down originally, the rest of you darting to the end of the hall to keep up with him. He stopped at the open archway, allowing the others in front of him. You ran just behind Legolas and Boromir was now leading the way. He moved down the newly presented set of stairs, not noticing the empty chasm that lay before his feet. He wobbled on the very edge, dropping his torch down the space as Legolas lunged forward, wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled him back.

Behind you, Gandalf clutched hold of Aragorn’s shoulder. “Lead them on, Aragorn. The bridge is near.” When Aragorn tried to help him, he pushed on his shoulder, forcing him away. “Do as I say! Swords are no more use here.” You raced down the numerous flights of stone stairs until you came to a halt. A part of the staircase was missing. Legolas jumped over it carelessly, landing perfectly on the other side. He held his hand out to you. You took a breath before leaping over the disparity, grabbing his hand tightly as he safely pulled you into his chest.

“Gandalf.” He gestured for the wizard to come next. Gandalf jumped and you gasped as an arrow missed your face by just a few inches. Legolas frowned, aiming and shooting, his arrow hitting the Orc archer right between the eyes. You ushered Boromir down and he nodded, grabbing Merry and Pippin before diving over the gaping chasm. You caught Merry in your arms, setting him down with a head pat before Aragorn tossed Sam to you. Catching him, you gently set him down beside Merry whilst Legolas dealt with Gimli. Once Gimli joined you, however, the rock that Frodo and Aragorn were still perched on began to crumble. You gasped, squeezing Boromir’s hand in anxiety as you watched. A huge roar echoed from where you had just come from, causing the archway to shake and break. A large piece of stone plunged from the ceiling, crashing down onto the very staircase that the man and the hobbit were situated on. Your heart stuttered as the rock destroyed what was in its way, falling into the abyss below. The stem of the staircase broke.

“Be careful!” You cried, biting your lip so hard it pooled with blood. Aragorn pulled a very terrified Frodo into his chest. You watched with complete anxiety yet confusion; you could see that the man was calculating something.

“Lean forward!” He instructed to the Ring-Bearer and as the two did so, the faulty staircase began to lean under their weight. Slowly, it moved towards the stable one, crashing into it and you let out a breath with Frodo in your arms. All you wanted was to sit and hug him and make sure that he knew everything was going to be alright – even though you weren’t entirely sure it would be – but you knew that could not happen. Legolas had safely caught Aragorn and the next thing you knew, the ten of you were rapidly rushing down the numerous flights of trembling stairs.

Eventually you got to flat ground but none of you stopped running. Your thoughts wandered to Gandalf, wondering if it was wise that he should be running like this, for it seemed he was far too tired even earlier.

The bridge was near. “Over the bridge! Fly!” Little attention was paid to the roaring fires acting as gates toward it. Whilst everyone ran, Gandalf made sure to lack behind and just as he turned around, slowly, a giant creature emerged from the fire. It had black tattered skin and horns, terrible teeth and bright white eyes. Its mouth opened, and it created sound unlike any other on Middle-Earth, its mouth mirroring hot embers. Gandalf turned once it had taken a step, fleeing towards the group of you who also began to scurry away from the creature. You sprinted, heart jolting each time you heard – and felt – the Balrog take a step. In single file, ushering the hobbits in front of you, you crossed the bridge. Boromir held you for a moment once you had crossed, making sure that you were alright before he let go, eyes widening at the sight of Gandalf still in the centre of the bridge.

“You cannot pass.” Gandalf yelled, facing the beast with his staff out in front of him, his long sword settled in his other hand.

“Gandalf!” Frodo screamed. You inhaled sharply, eyes filling with tears in worry. Aragorn squeezed your hand gently as the beast stood tall, erupting into a ball of flame.

“I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!” A great light emitted from Gandalf’s staff when he held it up, but the Balrog created a weapon of his own. A flash of lightning spewed from the connection of Gandalf’s staff and the Balrog’s sword of flame. You grasped Aragorn’s hand tighter, feeling all of the moisture from your mouth dissipate. The sword melted down into the abyss and the creature moaned ferociously at the wizard once again. “Go back to the shadow.” He said behind hooded eyes. It stepped toward him, creating a fiery whip which he cracked against the stone.

“You shall not pass!” As his voice echoed, Gandalf thrust his staff into the stone, white sparks flying from the collision. The beast raised his arm, stepping mightily towards to wizard, but the stone crumbled under its weight. He plummeted into the abyss. You let out a breath you did not know you were holding. Gandalf turned to step towards you.

However, as he did so, an orange-yellow string secured itself around his ankle, pulling him across the stone until he barely hung from the edge.

You gasped, shaking your head incredulously. “No…” Frodo ran for him. Boromir grabbed him, holding him close before he could reach. Your eyes were wide with anguish, Frodo’s screams painfully ringing in your ears.

“Gandalf!”

He looked amongst you. “Fly, you fools.” Was all he said before he spread his fingers out, giving in, and he fell. Tears pooled in your eyes, an aching sensation pounding in your chest, throughout your entire body. A few choked sobs escaped you whilst Aragorn, still latched to your hand, pulled you along, shielding you from the many arrows that were being shot your way. The final set of steps lay in front of you, and as Aragorn gently dragged you along, you found yourself looking back, filled with a sorrow that everyone was experiencing.

Upon exiting Moria, you found that Boromir was holding back Gimli, from going in there and no doubt trying to murder the Balrog that had taken Gandalf. Sam was sat on his own, crying into his hand. Pippin was sprawled out on the floor in pain, Merry holding onto him, both of them with tears gushing down their faces. If your heart was not already broken from the loss, it certainly was shattered now from the melancholy faces that lay before you. Slowly, you made your way over to Sam, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder as you knelt beside him. He looked up and threw his arms around your body, sobbing silently into your shoulder. You closed your eyes, tears streaming, hugging him as tightly while he clung to you.

Legolas looked around, it seemed as if for the first time that he was unsure of what to do. His chest ached, even harder when his eyes landed upon you, and how you quickly swiped your tears away before talking to Sam, wanting to be strong for him and the other hobbits.

Aragorn cleaned his sword with his clothes. “Legolas, get them up.” He came close to you and Sam and you shook your head gently.

“Leave them.” You sniffed.

“Give them a moment, for pity’s sake!”

“By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the Woods of Lothlorien. Come Boromir. Y/N, Legolas, Gimli, get them up.” Aragorn pulled Sam up from the floor. “On your feet.” Boromir made his over to you, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulder. You smiled weakly at him, and he kissed your temple softly. “Frodo?” You heard Aragorn call, your eyes wandering to try to find the hobbit. Once you had found him, you sighed.

“It is hardly fair, that they do not get a chance to lament.”

“I know, but Aragorn is right. We must hurry to avoid the Orcs and another potential loss.” You nodded and Boromir’s words, hugging into his side, your eyes never leaving Frodo.

~~~

You had all been walking for a long while, but it was still light. You had been walking beside Aragorn, listening to him talk away about where we going and then after that and after that. It was not until he mentioned again where you were going now, that a faint memory flooded into your head. Your brows furrowed together whilst you tried to remember the details of the memory.

“What is it, Y/N?” Aragorn asked, concerned.

“Lothlorien. It sounds familiar.” You gave him a knowing look and his eyes widened, only slightly, in surprise. You both knew what that could mean. Legolas, however, did not, but he wanted to. He felt awful for eavesdropping yet again, but you intrigued him more than one ever had before, and his curiousness was getting the better of him.

Aragorn started to jog toward the forest, and you joined him, stopping once you were inside. Your eyes widened when you looked around, your breathing staggering only slightly, your heart thumping in your chest.

“Aragorn,” you whispered. “I have been here before.”

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[daisy-picking-lady]

Late Night Secrets

Holy. Crap. I actually wrote something. This took me a while to write, maybe close to a week. My mental health has been hitting me particularly hard as of late to the point it felt too hard to type on the computer and my pen felt too heavy to pick up. But, I DID IT! I want to say thank you to everyone who has continually supported me through my difficulties with both my writing and mental health. You have helped me so much and I am so excited to be finally posting something!

My Thorin taglist is currently OPEN. If you want to be added, I ask that you please send me an ask requesting to be added. It is easier to track that way.

Summary: While camping for the night, you confess to Thorin a secret you are ashamed of – you’re afraid of thunderstorms.

Words: 2479

Pairing: Thorin x Reader

Warnings: None.

Tagging: @anderkri000 @fizzyxcustard @dabisburntnut @musicalmuffindog1410 @moony-artnstuff

________________________________________________________________

 The unwelcomed presence of your discomfort began on a chilly autumn morning. Bofur had casually mentioned spotting some dark clouds in the distance, a thunderstorm likely on its way. It took every fiber in your being not to flinch at the prediction. When you looked up at the sky in hopeful vain that perhaps Bofur’s judgement had been wrong, disappointment – and not victory – struck you right on the face as your eyes landed on the darkened sky. A thunderstorm was indeed coming and by the looks of the clouds, it was not going to be weak.

“Maybe it is headed in a different direction.” Your remark had been more to yourself than to Bofur, secretly trying to use the optimism to quell the fear stirring inside, no matter how false the hope was.

“I don’t think so, lass. You see the way those clouds are moving? Straight forward. I don’t think we will be fortunate enough to miss it.”

Any hope you had left fell to the pits of your stomach and it took everything you had not to retch your recently eaten breakfast.

The rest of the day was spent in anxiety. You looked over your shoulder frequently, trying to determine the distance of the storm. Fortunately, between Gandalf’s navigation and Thorin’s experience in the wilderness, they were able to lead the Company in another direction – away from the incoming weather hinderance, a decision you fully supported. But luck was not with you on this day. In fact, it seemed as though it was laughing right in your face, taunting the absurd secret you bore. Despite Thorin’s best efforts, as the sun was beginning to dip beyond the trees, the storm – or perhaps a new one had brewed, you really did not care – sneakily found its way over the Company. A low rumble of thunder was your only warning before heavy rain began to descend, and they were forced to hasten in finding shelter.

As luck would have it, a contrast to the cruel game it was playing with you today, Gandalf found a cave. Once it was ensured safe to use, the Company started to unpack and settle. A fire was made, bedrolls were set out, and a heart stew was cooked. As everyone prepared their own comforts, you decided to survey the shelter protecting you. Anything to get your mind off the thunder that sounded closer and closer as the minutes passed. The cave was not much. It ran deep but it was small, and a chill filled the air that seeped into your bones. You wondered how long this storm would last. You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you did not hear Thorin approaching or him calling your name. As he gently touched your elbow, a loud clap of thunder boomed over the cave and you pulled back with a startled gasp. It quickly vanished when you saw who had touched you.

“Thorin,” you breathed out in relief.

Worry was etched heavily on his features. “Amrâlimê, you are trembling. Are you well?”

“I am fine,” you lied with a forced smile. “You startled me is all.”

Thorin did not look convinced but he didn’t press the issue. He took your hand. “Come,” Thorin beckoned. “Sit by the fire. You are soaked to the bone, and supper is nearly ready.”

There was not a single protest in you as Thorin led you to the campfire, and if there had been, you wouldn’t say a word. He brought you a peace no other could. The mere touch of his hand made vanish your fears and they became but a distant memory. It was a strange thing, you thought. You have never experienced t his before nor had you ever dared to hope for it – until this journey. Now, you weren’t certain you could go a day without Thorin’s touch or the gentle lock of his gaze. And as you allowed him to sit you down, turning to retrieve supper, you didn’t even hear the thunder rumbling outside.

                                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were hesitant to go to sleep that night. Rain continued to pour in its unrelenting assault, the loud cracks of thunder echoing something fierce in the cave. You were doubtful sleep would even come to you, but you didn’t want your secret to come to light. Not by Thorin, not by the Company. Not even dear Bilbo who had his own fears. It was a silly thing, really. You, a capable warrior, afraid of thunderstorms? No one would respect you if they were to find out. Against your own wishes, you went to bed.

Surprisingly, sleep came to you quite easily. Even as the storm let up, ceasing its downpour and unfriendly noises, you expected to have some difficulty; that your mind would conjure some thoughts and realistic fears they always do that kept you from sleeping. And as you felt yourself beginning to fall into a deep slumber, you allowed a smile to grace your lips as finally the anxiety you had borne all day dissipated. Neither the peace nor rest lasted very long, however. You were abruptly woken by a loud crack of thunder. It sounded as though it boomed right over the cave, making the walls tremble in its wake. You sat up-right with a loud gasp, your heart beating so fast you were afraid it would burst from your chest.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm down your breath, nearly jumping out of your skin at another rumble of thunder. The wind blew harshly outside, forcing cold and wet gust of air inside now and then. There went your sleep.

“Ghivashel?” Thorin quietly called. He sat on a rock in the corner, absentmindedly toying with his pipe which he had long finished smoking. Having not yet been visited by the tendrils of sleep, Thorin decided to stay up for a little while, opting to watch you sleep. He had sensed something was amiss with you and could not bring himself to retire to bed without ensuring your well-being.

You didn’t mean to cringe. Really, you didn’t. Any other night you would have welcomed his rich, deep voice. Not tonight. Any other night than this one, when you weren’t trying to keep your secret hidden, particularly from him of all people. Still, you could not deny the comfort his voice brought you in the midst of the raging storm. Turning your head, you looked over your shoulder at him and offered a small smile. “Hello.”

The slightest hint of a smile tugged at Thorin’s lips. “Hello.” Just as his smile came, it left, and he studied you for a long moment. You weren’t sure what made you shudder – his gaze or the thunder. “You’re trembling,” he said, frowning.

“It’s a little chilly.” It wasn’t entirely untrue. There was a draft in the cave, the harsh wind outside doing no favor in keeping the chill away. You knew Thorin would not believe it. He was too observant for that and knew quite well the cold never bothered you.

“You should sleep. It’s late.”

He was right. The campfire was now dimly burning, signifying it had been some time since it was first lit. You were tired and tomorrow would be a difficult day if you did not sleep, but you simple could not lay down again with that treacherous storm. “I-I think I will stay up for a little while longer.”

Thorin sat silent, continuing to study you. His eyes developed deep in your own and it felt as though he was reaching into your soul. He was looking for something. An answer. You looked away, suddenly feeling shy. Did he know? Did you somehow manage to give away of your secret fear, or was it something else he was looking for? You didn’t know. You didn’t want to know. All you wanted was for this storm to go away.

Thorin was suddenly in front of you, holding out his hand for you to take. You did without hesitation, though you shot him a questioning look as he pulled you to your feet. He merely smiled. “Will you allow me to sleep with you tonight?”

You weren’t surprised by the question. Quite often you two shared the same bedroll and slept wrapped in each other’s arms. The late-night conversations were your personal favorite. Quite frankly, you didn’t think you could sleep alone tonight, so you were more than eager to nod your head in answer. Thorin’s smile widened, and he led you to his bedroll – further away from the cave’s entrance.

The further, the better, you thought to yourself.

As you laid down, feeling the warmth and security of Thorin’s arms wrapping around your waist, a familiar sense of peace washed over you. Any coldness that still nipped at your sin faded when Thorin wrapped you in his coat with him, tucking you tightly against his chest. “This is nice,” you hummed, content.

Thorin’s lips brushed over your temple. “It is,” he agreed. There was a long stretch of silence, nothing but the sound of rain and thunder filling the quiet air. When he spoke again, his deep voice was a gentle murmur. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re afraid of thunderstorms?”

Dread gripped your heart. He knew. You should had known. Thorin was nothing short of attentive. In some ways, he knew you better than you knew yourself. You closed your eyes, gathering what little courage you had to look at him. You could only imagine the disappointment he must be feeling. When you rolled onto your back, you were met with something much different than what you expected: the tenderness he only ever extended to you.

“You weren’t supposed to know,” you whispered.

Thorin tilted his head, running the tips of his fingers through your hair. He found your braid and played with the single tress, admiring the way your courting bead glinted in the dim light. “Why ever not?” he gently probed.

“It’s shameful,” you told him. “I am a swordswoman, trained by the best mentor you could ever find. I am here on this quest to kill a dragon and I am afraid of thunder.” You laughed bitterly. “The mere thought of it is absurd and I couldn’t even keep it a secret.”

“Well,” Thorin began, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “You are not very good at hiding your emotions.”

“What? Yes, I am!”

“Is that so?”

“You don’t believe me?”

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “You were not entirely discreet with your anger towards Kíli the week prior.”

“He deserved it. I lost my best dagger because of him.”

“I do not disagree but glaring at his back the entire day does not disguise your emotions. Everyone knew you were terribly upset with him and Kíli only knew because of Fíli.”

You huffed as you recalled that day. “I was being passive aggressive,” was your mumbled answer.

“And you were quite fearsome. I pity the man who provokes your ire.” Thorin leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “There is no shame in your fear. We all fear something.”

“No shame?” You scoffed. “I am afraid of thunder, Thorin. That is a child’s fear. It is cowardly.”

A change fell over Thorin. His face darkened, his once tender eyes filled with adoration as he listened to you speak hardened. His gaze was enough to turn you to stone, and you looked away so you did not have to face him, lest you fall apart under his icy blue eyes. Your secret fear already wracked you with shame, you did not need to see the disapprove of your beloved. “Look at me.” When you refused, Thorin grabbed your chin and lifted your gaze to him. “Look at me,” he demanded. “You will never speak about yourself in that way ever again.”

You frowned. “Thorin—”

“Quiet. I am talking,” Thorin hushed. “There is nothing cowardly about having fears and there is nothing cowardly about yours. It is a hardship we all battle. It is not easy and requires us to muster all of our strength to bear through it. It strengthens us.” Thorin lifted his hand and stroked your cheek, smiling to himself as your eyes fell to a blissful close, leaning further into his touch. “And you, my dear, are exceptionally strong and courageous. There is nothing cowardly about you and I will fight anyone who dares to say otherwise.”

How was a person capable so well taking away your fears and expectations, as unrealistic as they were, and bury them in the ground? It was unfair how Thorin could soothe you; how he could take it all and quell the anxieties within with his eloquent speeches. And they were always true and sincere, spoken from his heart. Suddenly your earlier assumptions seemed so silly. To think you had feared Thorin would be angry with you, to even believe he would lose respect for you as a swordswoman…Now looking in his eyes, the way he held your gaze, the sweet adoration shining in them. Your fear of thunder was no longer silly but you yourself and you could not stop the tears from unleashing as guilt overwhelmed you at your lack of faithfulness.

“Amrâlimê…” Thorin gently wiped away your tears, shushing you in a loving whisper. “Why do you cry, my love?

“I thought…” You took a deep breath. “I was afraid you would be disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed? In you?” Thorin echoed in confusion. “I would never commit such a heinous offense. Why should I be disappointed in you, because of your fear?” You nodded. Thorin chuckled softly and cupped your cheeks, and like before, he took your breath away with the intensity of his gaze – firm and loving, searching the depths of your soul. “No, my love. I am proud of you. You bear this fear like the warrior you are, strong and resilient and you do not let it overtake you. That is true strength.”

“Even if it renders me a trembling mess and unable to sleep?”

Thorin smiled. “You endure through it, do you not?”

“Barely,” you whispered.

“But you endure nonetheless.” Thorin leaned down and kissed you. It was a soft kiss; one meant to comfort and reassure. His lips just barely brushed against yours, short and tender. His way of saying I love you.  “I would have you know,” he murmured when he pulled away. “You are not the only one without fears.”

Your eyebrows rose in feigned surprise. “Thorin Oakenshield has a fear?”

“A few,” Thorin admitted. “There is one in particular that keeps me up in the late hours of the night.”

“Really? What is it?”

Thorin grinned. “Being beaten in combat by a particularly skilled swordswoman.”

[entishramblings]

The Cruel Nature of the World [Legolas X Reader]

A.N: So here is another Legolas one shot because I am immensely skilled at procrastinating my fic and ignoring my ikr responsibilities!!! We love that!!!!

Request: anon — hii, if you’re taking requests can I ask for a Legolas X Reader where the reader is kind of touch starved...and really needs some soft gentle touches? Maybe one big with the fellowship she’s sitting next to him and something happens?

Pairing: Legolas X Reader

Summary: (Y/N) joins the fellowship and is focused on her own struggles. Legolas wants to comfort her. The fellowship teases him for being sweet on her.

Word count: 1,830

Warnings: themes of depression?

(gif not mine)

MASTERLIST

The moon had risen high against the blackness of the sky and it’s light pooled upon the weary group, offering solace from the dark. It was then when the fellowship finally decide to rest. Aragorn had picked a spot tucked into the side of a rather large mountain, where the vastness of the stone wall and adjacent forestry provided cover from those who might seek what they carried. The group could be seen from no sides and, quite frankly, the shelter was a comfort to them all.

Sam had built a fire and they eagerly gathered around it to siphon the warmth and eat a hearty meal. (Y/N) leaned her back against the sleek stone that towered above them and stretched her legs towards the flames. Her somber eyes gaze upon the stars while she waited patiently for a plate of food to be passed to her. Here, she let her mind wander.

The cruel nature of the world did not spare (Y/N). Her life was anything but easy. Alone and the run—where she hid from fear, from guilt, from regret, from her past. She was tired. Tired of the darkness that seemed to follow her through all the centuries that she had lived. Tired of all the death and destruction she witnessed. Tired of the pain. Tired of fighting. Tired of killing. There was no escaping it, so why had she even bothered concealing herself from the dreadfulness of it all? But now, it was unavoidable. The time had come to change direction—to sprint towards the ruthlessness of the shadows. That is why (Y/N) joined the journey to destroy the ring. That is why she chose to pledge her life to the quest.

The scent of crispy sausage and beans filled her nostrils as a plate was held before her, drawing her from her thoughts. She moved her gaze from the lights in the sky to the one who offered her a meal.

Legolas stood, towering over her, with a knowing expression upon his face. He lowered the plate as a gesture for her to take it, which she gratefully accepted.

“The boundless freedom of the sky fascinates us all,” he stated as he sat down next to her, placing his own meal in his lap.

The elven woman raised her brows and nodded in the direction of Merry and Pippin, “Well, maybe not all of us.”

Legolas lifted his head to see what she was motioning at. And sure enough, she was correct. The two hobbits were more interested in attempting to stick their sausages up their nostrils then contemplate the wonders of the sky. The Mirkwood Prince couldn’t help but crack a smile. How they came to think up this ridiculous activity with their food, he knew not.

The two elves ate their meals in silence for the blonde ellon didn’t know what to speak of. It was very rare for (Y/N) to carry a conversation, no matter how many times Legolas had tried. She seemed to be in a world far off—always sharpening her countless weapons and living in the crevices of death and despondency. He could see the emptiness in her eyes and the dread in her soul. She viewed the world as a vicious place; one with no comfort and no warmth. Quite frankly, this saddened the blonde Prince. There was more to existence than loneliness. He was sure the others noticed her ideology too, for many times they tried to engage with her but she shoved them off. Nevertheless, Legolas was not yet willing to give up on her; and sitting directly beside her, in quite close proximity, was a start.

.....

Plates were collected and the low singing voices of Boromir and Aragorn hummed through the air. The deep tones resonated within them all and it gently lulled them into a relaxed state.

It was not long before Legolas felt a slight weight upon his shoulder. He slowly shifted his peripheral vision and was surprised to see that is was the head of the worn-down elleth. Really, what else was he expecting? An orc?

Legolas was still as he focused on the sound of her steady heartbeat and gentle breathes. It was different to witness her in this state. Not once on their journey had she sought physical comfort. Quite frankly, Legolas couldn’t remember any time that she had even touched one of them. But now, in her sleep, she seemed so tranquil and welcoming of his warmth; and he was glad to give it to her. The corner of the Prince’s mouth tugged upward. He was rather pleased that she chose to use him as a pillow. He would be lying if he said it didn’t feed into his pride. He had wished thousands of time that he could pull her into his embrace and take away her suffering. Furthermore, Legolas had desired this closeness for a long time. He too craved consolation from the horrors of the quest.

The Prince’s brows furrowed slightly when a thought crossed his mind. The position she was in couldn’t be comfortable. He shifted and ever so carefully lowered her head into his lap. Legolas was shocked that she didn’t wake and push a blade again this throat.

In her unconscious state, a barely audible whimper escaped her lips and her fist clenched onto the fabric of his trousers. Legolas lips parted; the sound was so heartbreaking. He wondered if her dreams were also haunted. Hesitantly, the elf rested his hand on her head. He began to run his fingers through her smooth locks in hopes to provide some relief. As Legolas did this, he examined her appearance. Without the ever present angry scowl on her face, she looked peaceful—well as peaceful as one could get during these dark times. The curve of her jaw molded her structured features nicely. Her eyelids would fluttered occasionally, like a bird about to take flight; and her plump pink lips were were parted, like raspberries plucked to early. She really was beautiful, as all elves were.

Suddenly, the raking sound of Aragorn sharpening his sword with a metal file stopped. Heat rose up to Legolas’s cheeks and ears as he felt eyes boring into him. Ever so slowly the elf lifted his head. The Ranger’s body was frozen and his eyes were glued to the pair of elves with a surprised accusatory look. This, of course, summoned the attention of the rest of the company.

Boromir was the first to speak with amusement upon his tone, “So the wolf doesn’t bite...”

A teasing smiled plastered across Aragorn’s face. Legolas inwardly groaned; he surely was to hear an earful from his friend latter.

The uncrowned Ranger replied to the Gondorian, “Well, she doesn’t bite elf boy over there.”

A loud gleeful cackle erupted from Gimli. How it didn’t wake (Y/N) and the hobbits was a mystery.

Legolas rolled his eyes in attempt to hide the embarrassment, but he was sure the group could see right through him.

Gandalf, who was smoking his pipe, chided the men, “Oh, let the elflings seek comfort from each other for these are dark times we live in.”

Legolas sent a grateful smile in the old wizard’s direction, but regretted it when a glimmer entered Gandalf’s gaze and he continued speaking, “Maybe we will have some little ones in the near future to bring joy to us all?”

The Mirkwood Prince was positive his face was as red as a midsummer’s cherry at this point.

This could not get any worse.

.....

As the journey went on Legolas’s friends did not stop the taunting jests. Whenever the two elves arms brushed together or sat beside each other the men sent teasing looks their way. Of course, (Y/N) didn’t even notice. Aragorn went as far as constantly forcing them to complete daily tasks together such as hunting and scouting. It was embarrassing really. Even the hobbits caught on!!

It wasn’t until Pippin opened his mouth that the groups plans were revealed to (Y/N). The small hobbit and elven woman were gathering fire wood when Pippin spoke, “So (Y/N), do you like Legolas?”

The woman tilted her head, “What prompts you to ask such a question?”

The gleeful child-like being laughed, “Well, yesterday when your back was turned Strider was making kissy faces at you and Legolas!”

“HE DID WHAT?!” She hollered.

Pippin, surprised at her outburst dropped the sticks he was holding, “As...as I just said he—“

She shook her head, “Hush, hush. I heard you the first time.”

(Y/N) stormed off towards the camp and the hobbit quickly scurried behind her—struggling to pick up the assortment of logs.

All heads turned as she, visibly pissed, marched right up to Aragorn. She balled her hand into a fist and punched him right in the jaw. “THAT IS FOR BEING AN ASSHOLE!” She clocked him again, “AND THAT IS FOR ENJOYING IT!”

Aragorn had a confused and shocked expression upon his face as he wiped blood from his lip.

The sound of an amused chuckled from Boromir drew her attention. She stormed up to him and kicked him hard in the shin, “AND THAT IS FOR GOING ALONG WITH IT!”

(Y/N) then turned her head towards Legolas, “And you—“

She made her was towards the elf with long strides and jabbed her finger in his face, “How dare you not tell me of this!!!”

The Prince’s eyes were wide with shock, “I...I—“

She interrupted him, “Why?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

He moved his lips to speak but no words left his mouth.

She tilted her head, “Unless.....unless it’s because you are embarrassed....” Her lips parted and the looming question tumbled from her mouth. “You...you fancy me?”

All eyes were on them at this point. Legolas swallowed dryly and every so slightly nodded his head.

Without warning, (Y/N) grasped both sides of his face and yanked his head towards her. She smashed her lips against his and he froze in shock. Time stood still for a moment, but the realization of what was happening finally hit him. Legolas snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her form against his. (Y/N) felt the rush of helpless thirst flood her as their mouths danced against each other. It had been so long since she touch another with care, but never had she experienced this kind of intimacy. She tangled her hands in his soft blonde locks while gladly inviting his warmth to infect her being and bring solace to the turmoil within her soul. She would never admit it, but she had needed this. She had craved this.

If it wasn’t for the woof whistles and hoots from the rest of the fellowship they probably would have continued. However, the two reluctantly pulled apart with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. They did not break eye contact; instead, they took comfort in each other’s tight hold. Maybe, just maybe, the cruel nature of the world wasn’t so menacing.

[elles-writing]

Monster - Kili x fem!reader - Day 5/13

Monster

Pairing: Kili x reader

Warnings/triggers: none

Genre: fluff

Word: Monster – Day 5/13

Word count: 2328

A/N: I feel like I can’t write angst or just any other genre than fluff, because it comes out as a fluff anyways. I prepared angst, came out as fluff. Also, I try to write for ther characters, but then I think of Kili again and it’s just like...no. Alright then. Let’s roll with it.

Tags: @dumbassunderthemountain @artsywaterlily @red-riding @moony-artnstuff​

It was another day at the quest. You, thirteen dwarves, and a wizard. No, this isn’t a beginning of a joke, that was your everyday reality now and for following few months.

You were traveling from your home village to Rivendell. Gandalf found you and picked you up, because you lost your way. He talked with you for a while then, and when he found out where you were going, he offered you to join a thirteen dwarves and a hobbit on a journey to reclaim Erebor. And that’s how you ended up with the Company.

It was a nice, sunny day. It wasn’t too long after the journey started, and you were having a stop for the night a bit earlier.

You grinned madly at the sight of butterflies and flowers in bright colours. You stood in this meadow, looking curiously at the sight around, and remembered, how often you thought about how it’s going to look like in Rivendell, because of all of those stories that were told in your village. You considered this meadow as beautiful. So, how does the kingdom of elves looks like then, if ‚words cannot describe the beauty and delication of all those elves‘?

Fili and Kili were sitting behind you, partly because they were keeping an eye on you, and because it was a nice time, to finally rest. Most of the dwarves were futher away. Maybe they found a small river and decided to take a bath.

Kili looked up at you, afternoon sun making his eyes closer to colour of a dark caramel, rather than a chocolate. You didn’t noticed that, though. You were concentrated on the land around.

Fili nudged his brother, and Kili’s eyes averted from you to his brother.

„What’s going on, Fee?“ At that moment, you three overheard Thorin to say,

„Kili, Y/N, you are on a pony duty today!“ You smirked to yourself. After the accident with the trolls a few days ago, Thorin didn’t let Fili and Kili to be together on pony duty.

Kili’s eyes widened, and Fili nudged him. You didn’t noticed that, finding the brothers rather reckless and somehow got the impression of you not being able to get along too well, them being a bit too loud, so you just sticked to Bilbo and Bofur, Bilbo being a confused and adorable, well, hobbit, and Bofur was like the father of the Company at some point, making everyone to feel welcomed. Then, there was Dori, who was the mother hen, and Balin, whom was like a grandfather.

With others, well, it was interesting, to say at least.

Ori was really shy, and you felt like he was even afraid of you at some point. Dwalin was scaring you just by his appearance, and you truly didn’t wanted to experience when he was truly mad or just annoyed. Thorin, just like Dwalin, wasn’t one to mess up with, for obvious reasons (you’ve also overheard something about Durin’s-death-glare from Fili and Kili, and sure you didn’t wanted to experience that, though they could be only joking to make you scared). Most of them were confused of what a human was doing on a quest, that was supposed to be only dwarvish concern.

But when Gandalf said so, there was no way he would change his mind.

And Thorin realized that quickly.

It wasn’t like he would dislike you that much as Billbo. He wasn’t paying you too much attention, maybe because you were capable in fight by your own and were a woman, so maybe he felt this way because he had a sister.

You turned to them and looked down at Kili with a cheeky grin.

„Kili, what’s going on?“ You noticed his face, being flushed. Fili wiggled his eyebrows while smoking his pipe and nudged Kili by his leg.

„Go ahead, Kee.“ You furrowed your brows.

„Kili, you should maybe take off that coat, your whole face is red. It’s warm today, you don’t need it. I believe Fili won’t do anything to it while we’re taking care of the...ponies and my horse.“ When his cheeks reddened even more, you placed your hands on your hips and heavily sighed, while Fili was chuckling. Sometimes you were too nice and overlooked other meanings of things, he thought.

„Alright, I’ll go ahead, you can join me later.“ You said and walked towards the ponies. Kili let out a breath and Fili chuckled, while Kili shot him a glare.

„Aw, look, my baby brother has a crush. Amad would be proud of you, too,“ He said in more of a high-pitched voice, and Kili averted his gaze, shook his head and snorted.

„You’re being riddiculous.“ Fili smirked.

„Am I? She was concerned about you. Why don’t you take your coat off, anyways? She was right, your face is almost unhealthy red.“ He chuckled again to himself and Kili rolled his eyes.

„Her name is Y/N, Fee. Besides, I don’t really fancy humans.“ Kili remarked. Fili rolled his blue eyes.

„Oh yes, of course. You look at her like she’s been crafted by Mahal himself and you always listen to her when she talks. Ah, and whenever she talks with somebody else? If your puppy-looks could kill, the whole Company would be dead. Tsk tsk brother.“ Kili shot him a glare and opened his mouth.

„I’ve never done that!“ Fili quietly laughed.

„If you say so,“

„Kili, it’s your turn on pony duty with Y/N.“ Thorin said when he noticed his two nephews bickering once again, since the beginning of the journey.

He didn’t knew what was it about, but Balin told him it may be because of the woman, Y/N, whom Gandalf took along on this journey with them. It always seemed like Fili was teasing Kili about something about her. Though Thorin didn’t had time for their bickering, ever since they were dwarflings and started with it, this situation seemed to be different. He wasn’t sure what to do about it, though he didn’t let anyone to see that.

Thorin turned to Balin.

„Are you sure it's because of Y/N, Balin?“ He asked. Balin looked to Thorin's nephews. Fili was laughing and Kili was quickly standing up and he could see his deep red cheeks, through he had his head down, so no-one would notice (or at least he hoped so). When Fili said something else to him, Kili just murmed something else and quickly walked away, leaving laughing Fili (who almost fell over) behind.

„I am, Thorin. I've noticed the way he looks at her, when he thinks nobody's looking, and overheard something from their earlier conversations,“ He said matter-of-factly. Thorin frowned.

„Do you think she...?“ Thorin said, not wanting Kili's heart to be broken. Balin shrugged his shoulders.

„Who knows? She's not really around them two. She's quite quiet, so maybe she finds them both a bit too loud.“ Balin looked sleepishly at Thorin.

„Was that your intention, Thorin?“ He frowned.

„What was my intention?“ Balin pointed towards the ponies.

„To pair them up for pony duty today.“ Thorin looked down.

„It was not my intention in a love-matter, but she seems to be careful and responsible with the ponies.“ The older dwarf patted his shoulder.

„We will see how it goes.“

Meanwhile, Kili, out of his coat, found you, patting the ponies and yours and Gandalf’s horses. You turned around and huffed.

„Finally you’re here, Kili. C’mon, look for these four ponies while I’m taking care of these,“ You said, pointing to the place where he was supposed to look after them. His eyes widened.

„You know-you know my name?“ You chuckled.

„Yes, of course I do.“ You slightly furrowed your brows when he was just standing there, with slight smile forming on his face.

„Ahem, the ponies, Kili.“ You adressed him. He jumped up.

„Oh, of course, Y/N.“ His lips formed into his mischievous grin he usually worn, and before you’d say ‚Erebor‘, he was watching over  the four ponies.

Fili was sitting on the grass, watching the butterflies, when Balin sat down to him. He didn’t said anything for a while. Then he spoke.

„I’ve noticed you and Kili to be arguing a while ago. Shall we be concerned?“ He asked half-jokingly. Fili smiled and shook his head.

„No, there’s no need to be concerned, Master Balin. Only my little brother has developed feelings for a certain woman, but he doesn’t want to admit it.“ Balin smiled and nodded.

„Then, laddie, we need to do something about it, doesn’t we?“ Fili looked over to see Kili peeking at you, his eyes were basically sending you hearts. (Fili snorted and rolled his eyes.)

Which you seemed to be successfully ignoring, mostly because your back was turned to him and you were feeding Gandalf’s horse.

Fili sighed. „Surely we need to, but do you think she likes him back? She doesn’t seem to be very fond of him. Of us both though, to be correct.“ Balin patted his shoulder.

„She is a quiet lady, Fili, and you two are maybe a bit loud for her liking. But before you jump into pairing Y/N and Kili, we need to find out if she is fond of him too,“ Balin told him.

You didn’t suspected a thing, and Kili too.

A few days later, it was supposed to be your turn with cooking. Yours and Kili’s, to be exact.

Well, it was you and Fili, who was the first whom was told by Thorin, but Fili looked at his brother, with knowing look, and to Kili’s annoyance, said.

„I believe Kili here would be happy to do that instead.“ One of the dwarves snorted.

„Kili? Cooking?“ You, according to a plan, made between Fili, Balin, Bofur, Bilbo and somehow evenThorin, would defend Kili right away, like you’d do with anyone else. It worked.

„So what? It’s not like the last time Kili and Bilbo were cooking, it ended up as overcooked, or worse.“ Kili softly smiled, his heart warmed by your statement, which was actually true. Bilbo was a skilled cook, so all Kili had to do, was to cut everything to pieces and Bilbo let him to mix it, sometimes.

„C’mon Kili, let’s show them we can cook too,“ You said. Fili watched his brother to look up at you with his puppy-heart-eyes, full of softness, that almost made Fili (and whole Company) to roll their eyes. Or throw up.

„O-oh, yes, of course, Y/N.“ He quickly made his way to you. Fili smirked.

He will tease him about this later.

While you were cooking (and Kili was messing it up), you shook your head and chuckled.

„You really can’t cook, Kili.“ Kili did pouting face, though his heart was beating rather quickly.

„Oh, you’re a monster, Y/N! Your words wounded me!“ He dramatically announced and you giggled.

„So, how can I help you to heal your wounds, my bravest knight?“ His eyes twinkled. You thought if it was a trick of afternoon light, the fire or...

He thought about it for a while, then a mischievous smirk appeared on his face.

„A kiss will do it.“ You raised a brow.

„A kiss?“ He nodded. You nervously looked away. Though you weren’t really fond of how loud Thorin’s nephews could be, Kili caught your attention. You decided to push your feelings away, knowing he may be already courting someone or finding someone after the journey would end. He was a prince, after all. A handsome one, to be exact.

Then, when you looked up, you decided to do it quickly. You took a few steps to him and, not being a lot taller than he was (who knew these dwarves were around 5‘2?), kissing him directly on the lips.

It was supposed to be only a quick peck on the lips, really, but one of his hands hugged you around your waist, pulling you closer, and the other one tangling into your hair. You tensed by surprise for a moment, and Kili took that as a disagreement of his actions. He quickly pulled away, blushing hard, looking everywhere but at you, and stumbled over his words while murmuring something.

„I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have do that,“ Finally came out of his after a while, while he was looking down at the ground, ashamed. Your trembling fingers carefully touched your lips.

„You-you...were kissing me.“ You said. He nodded.

„Aye, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ You firmly shook your head, flustrated blush colouring your cheeks.

„So you wanna tell me you regret it?“ You looked at him through your lashes.

„Like I said-“ He started again, but you cutted him.

„No, I mean...more like, um, well-you like me?“ Kili sleepishly looked up at you.

„I do. And now, if you exuse me, I will go and hid somewhere,“ He was about to go away, heavy blush on his cheeks you now could see. You placed your hand gently on his shoulder.

„No, I mean...I like you too.“ You said, blushing once again. He turned his head towards you, eyes wide in surprise, mouth open.

„You-wait-oh,“ He said. Then, his lips stretched in smile, yours too, and soon, you were kissing once again.

„Hey, you two, what about the dinner, huh?“ Bofur said. You and Kili parted and realized the whole Company was watching you. You pecked Kili’s lips and got back to work. He stood there, stunned, but then he helped you. Fili smirked, but Thorin placed his hand on his shoulder. Fili turned to him, confused.

„What?“

„Don’t tease them.“ Fili smirked and whispered.

„Yet.“

When you and Kili were asleep, cuddling, Fili and Balin, being the first watch, looked over you. Fili grimaced.

„It seems like our plan worked out.“ Balin smiled.

„Aye, more than excellently. One mission accomplished,“ Fili smirked and Balin raised a brow.

„What’s going on, laddie?“

„I may be thinking of teasing our lovebirds right since the morning,“ Balin chuckled and only shook his head.