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elvish-sky · 4 years ago

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The Temptation of Regality: You’re Here

A.N: I’ve had this idea for a super long time and was so happy to be able to incorporate it into this series! It was so much fun to write, I’ve kinda been adding ideas and working on it for a while and I’m honestly very proud of it. Also- I know I’m absolutely terrible at titles and I’m really trying but it’s just very hard so please don’t hate me for them. Anyways, enjoy!

Word Count: 2,654

Pairings: You know the drill… Thorin x Reader

Warnings: Injury, alcohol/drunkenness

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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You’re Here

You plodded through the trees, only able to summon enough energy to put one foot in front of the other. Thorin was in front of you, and Fili just behind- they wanted to make sure that if you did collapse, someone would catch you. You could feel the growing unease at the slow pace you were setting, and tried to speed up. Instead of complying, your leg gave out and you crumpled to the ground with a groan.

None of this would have been an issue if it wasn’t for the orcs. That morning, several days after departing from Rivendell, you had been foraging for breakfast in a lovely quiet green meadow, when an arrow came whistling through the trees and lodged itself in your leg. Crying out in pain, you had fallen to the ground, helplessly watching as a warg with an orc rider sprung from its perch of a boulder, clearly intent on finishing you off. The orc scrambled down from its seat, drawing a filthy sword with a grin on its face. Drawn by the sound of your cry, thirteen dwarves and a hobbit burst out of the trees, Kili killing the orc with a well-placed arrow (a shot that you couldn’t help but admire, despite your injured state), as Dwalin clashed with the warg, dispatching it with a blow to the neck that sent it right onto the point of Thorin’s sword. Once that had all been dealt with, they sprinted to where the rest of the Company was gathered around you, watching as Oin removed the arrow from your leg and bound the wound.

Given the fact that, as a human, you were larger than everyone else in the group, it would have been very difficult to carry you. Instead, you stubbornly insisted that you were “fine, thank you very much!” and staggered along the path. You had done okay most of the day, only having to stop more often than usual because the blood loss had made you weak. Every time Thorin had called “halt,” you had collapsed to the ground but had managed to rise one it was time to get moving again. At least, every time until now.

“Y/N,” Kili cautioned, “this does not look good.”

“I can tell that, thank you,” you snapped back at him, your pain causing the rudeness. Oin made his way up the line to talk to Thorin.

After a short, whispered conversation, Thorin pronounced “There is a small town just a little bit further ahead. I had planned on bypassing it completely, but Oin says that Y/N will heal much faster if she rests well tonight. We will sleep there tonight and continue our journey tomorrow.”

This was met with sighs of relief from the rest of the company, as everyone had been longing to sleep in a warm bed.

“Y/N, do you think you can make it just a bit further on that leg?” Dori inquired with a concerned look on his face.

“Of course I can.” You proceeded to haul yourself up by Fili’s coat, but once you tried to put weight on the wounded leg it gave out. Again.

“Thorin, I’m so sorry,” you stated apologetically, “I can’t walk. Just leave me here and continue the quest without me.”

“Nonsense, lass!” exclaimed Dwalin, and he, Fili, and Bofur proceeded to pick you up and put you on the makeshift litter they sometimes used for Bilbo or Bombur. Surprised at how comfortable it was even with your wound, you quickly drifted off to sleep.

Waking at the noise once you had reached the town, you gestured to Dwalin, Fili, and Bofur to put the litter down and you attempted to place weight on your leg once again. Refreshed from your nap, it didn’t give out beneath you although it was still painful.

“Where are Thorin, Bilbo, and Gloin?” you asked, noting their absence from the group gathered around you.

“Inside, getting rooms,” answered Nori.

While waiting for their return, you gazed at your surroundings. It looked to be a small village, about the size of Bree. The buildings were worn with age, scratches and dents highlighted by the bright moon above.

This peace was quickly disturbed by the crashing sound of a door opening, and you turned to see Gloin beckoning at the company to come inside. As you did, he told everyone the sleeping arrangements for the night.

“We are in luck, lads!” he exclaimed, and then with a look at you quickly added “and lass!”

“They have several adjoining rooms available, so Bifir, Bofur, and Bombur will have one, Dwalin, Balin, Oin, and myself will share another, Ori, Nori, Dori and Bilbo will have the third, and Fili, Kili, Thorin, and Y/N will share the last.”

This proclamation was met with mixed reactions, but the biggest objection came from Fili. “Y/N has to share with us!? She’s a girl, and she’s injured! Don’t they have any other open rooms?”

“I’m sorry lad,” Gloin apologized, “trust me when I say there really were no other options. Thorin threatened to separate the innkeeper’s head from his body, but they still did not have any other rooms.”

“It’s okay,” you consoled Fili, “I’ll be fine sharing, I can put up a blanket or something. Also, this way I have the three strongest warriors to protect me!” You knew that the best way to get him to calm down was through flattery, and sure enough it worked.

You limped up the stairs alongside everyone else. Gloin and Thorin opened doors as you made you way down the hallway, ushering groups of dwarves into their rooms. Finally, when you, Thorin, and the brothers had reached the end of the creaky floors, he pulled open the last door to reveal a small room. It had four beds, one was on top of another and the other two were placed side-by-side.

“They did not have any single rooms left, and I’d rather have you with us,” Thorin was looking up at you, clearly seeking your agreement. Bemused, you nodded your head in thanks. He had been much kinder to you since Rivendell, and you couldn’t quite figure out why, although you did look back on his reaction to you in that dress fondly.

“I figured we could hang a blanket around the bed on the bottom to give you some privacy,” Thorin explained.

“Good idea, Uncle!” Kili set to work, taking a blanket from his pack and tacking it up. When he finished, he stood to the side for your approval.

“Thank you, Kili, it looks great.” He beamed in satisfaction as you saw Thorin strolling over to another door you hadn’t noticed.

“The real reason we saved this room for the four of us was because…” and he opened the door to reveal a washroom.

“Everyone else has to use the communal ones!” Kili announced.

“Yes. Gloin and I paid the innkeeper a little extra to get this room,” said Thorin. You gave them each a little peck on the cheek in thanks and limped over to the washroom, intending to freshen up and maybe even bathe.

“Have a good time, Y/N,” Fili declared, and the three dwarves left you in peace.

After bathing, you examined your leg, which didn’t look as bad as you had first thought. You were relatively confident that you would be able to walk tomorrow. You dressed in your clean set of clothes, washed by the innkeeper’s wife while you bathed, and made your way downstairs for some food.

You were met with quite the sight. Thorin was hiding under a table, Nori and Bofur were singing along to the music played by Bifir and Gloin on top of said table. Dori, Ori, and Dwalin seemed to be doing some sort of dance next to the table, and Bombur had gotten hold of Nori’s coat and was searching through it for stolen goods. Bilbo seemed to be yelling at Thorin under the table, only making him cower more. Balin and Oin were seated at said table, looking highly amused by the antics.

Bemused, you made your way over to the table where Fili and Kili sat, looking, for once, well-behaved. “What on Middle-Earth is happening to everyone?” you exclaimed, “and why aren’t you two in the center of all the trouble?”

“They all got drunk,” Kili responded, “and we’ve been designated the official sober dwarves for the night.”

“Normally,” Fili added, “we’d be disappointed that we weren’t drinking. But we’re really enjoying this.”

You began to as well, watching your friends make complete fools of themselves. However, you were still a little confused about the antics.

“But why are they all acting so oddly?” you queried of the brothers.

“We haven’t had ale in a while, especially any as strong as this, and none of us are the best at holding our alcohol.” Fili returned.

“We spent a while in Rivendell, and you’re telling me none of you sampled any of their wines?” You were skeptical.

Kili looked sheepish. “Uncle forbid us. Said ‘I do not want you drinking any of the filthy elvish wines.’”

Fili nodded. “Of course, he may have put it a bit more strongly, but that’s the general gist of it.”

“Anyways,” Kili continued, “we’ve come to know what everyone in the company does when drunk, and would like to tell you. Fili, would you begin?”

“Gladly.” Fili took a big swig of water before launching in. “So, Y/N. Thorin gets rather paranoid when drunk, and I believe he currently thinks that most of the people in this room are assassins. Sadly, he is also a timid drunk and therefore will not confront them, which is probably best. Nori, Bifir, Bofur, and Gloin get very musical when drunk, and Nori also gets rather remorseful which is probably how Bombur got a hold of his coat.”

Kili picked up the explanation as Fili paused for a bite of food, “Dori, Ori, and Dwalin get rather overconfident, which explains the absolutely terrible dancing. And we’ve never seen Bilbo drunk before, but he seems to get rather angry.” With that the brothers sat back in their chairs, waiting for your reaction.

Which, sensibly, was to let your head crash onto the table. “This is going to be a long night.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Fili was starting to look rather worried himself.

Much later, you sat at the table with the boys, watching the room descend further into madness.

“Should we round them up?” They both nodded, and with a sigh the three of you stood.

“I’ll get Balin and Oin to help, they don’t look too bad.” You gave Fili a glance of approval before making your way into the throng.

Figuring that maybe if you got the leader under control, everyone else would calm down, you crawled under the table, wincing as you felt your wound flare up with pain, to see Thorin, curled into a ball with Bilbo kneeling next to him.

“And that’s another thing!” The hobbit was pretty much yelling. “Handkerchiefs are essential to a hobbit’s daily life! In forcing me to leave mine behind you have deprived me of my well-being…” At this point you tuned him out, focusing on the king.

“Bilbo.”

“What?!” He snapped at you.

“Would you mind heading upstairs? It’s late.”

“Why should I do what you tell me? I’ve been taking orders this whole quest with no one stopping for just a second to think about what I fe-”

“I hear there may be handkerchiefs upstairs.”

“Oh,” he looked thoughtful, “alright then.” And without further ado the hobbit left.

“Thorin?” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He started. “Y/N? Why are you here?” And then his face darkened. “Have you come to kill me too, like Bilbo was?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him “Unless our burglar was planning to talk you to death, I think we’re good. And no, Thorin, I’m not going to murder you.”

He looked at you, suspicion plainly written across his face. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, you silly dwarf,” you shook your head at him fondly, “now let’s head upstairs.”

You grabbed his hand, only now noticing the lack of noise from the room around you. Emerging from under the table, you saw only a few people left. Balin and Oin were still sitting, this time at a different table, and Balin threw a wink at you as you appeared, dwarf in tow. Blushing, you shook your head madly at him, seeing his mouth curve up in a smile under the white beard. Rolling your eyes as he and Oin raised tankards in your direction, you began to tow Thorin up the stairs.

Reaching the landing, you staggered as he leaned on you heavily. You weren’t sure if your leg could take the extra weight, it was already throbbing, so you grabbed him by the armpit, trying to support yourself and not make him fall. You failed, and you crashed to the ground, limbs tangled with those of the king.

Your fall had been rather noisy, and Fili and Kili came bursting out of your room at the end of the hall. They started laughing once they saw your predicament, but still made their way down the hall to help. Fili grabbed his uncle and hauled him up, slinging an arm across his shoulder. They staggered back, and you laughed at the sight of the nephew helping his taller uncle. Then you thought about what it must have looked like with you trying to help Thorin, and laughed even more.

Kili helped you stand, and stood still as you leaned on him, trying to find your balance. Once you had, he started slowly walking so that your hopping leg could keep up. Fed up with this about halfway down the hall, he scooped you up and carried you the rest of the way with no trouble despite the fact that you were much taller. Reaching the doorway, he shouldered it open and deposited you in the chair you directed him to right next to Thorin’s bed.

You giggled to see the king sprawled out on his bed, eyes closed. He didn’t look very regal, but it was just such an endearing sight. Reaching over, you pulled the blanket over him, tucking it in around his shoulders. You brushed a strand of hair out of his face, starting in surprise as his eyes opened and a hand shot out to grab your wrist.

“Amrâlimê (my love).” His voice was rough.

You heard twin gasps from across the room, and turned to see Fili and Kili sneaking out.

“We’ll just leave you two alone now.” Kili winked at you before shutting the door behind him.

“Amrâlimê.” Thorin’s voice was more insistent this time, and you looked at him to see his face lit up with earnesty.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

You smiled at his words. “Me too, Thorin. Me too.” You started to stroke his face, fingertips tracing the line of his beard as his eyes fluttered closed, breathing growing deeper. You smiled at him as your eyelids began to grow heavy. You fully intended to make your way over to your own bed, but, too tired to think about standing, you let your head fall onto Thorin’s chest, slumping across him as you drifted off to sleep.

Fili and Kili peered around the door to see you collapsed over their uncle, both fast asleep. Kili made to go move you to your bed, but Fili stopped him, grabbing his arm.

“Leave them be.”

Kili caught onto his brother’s plan, and stepped back. “Let’s leave these two in peace and go see if Bilbo and the Ri brothers have any spare room.”

Fili nodded, and the two quickly grabbed their bedding and packs before slipping out the door, Fili sneaking one last fond glance at the two sleeping figures before silently shutting the door.

Everything tag 💞: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1

Series Tag: @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @moony-artnstuff @whiskeywinter89 @beakami @sassyscribbler @yes-captainstark

Thorin tag: @lathalea

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writingfromkitchenator · 4 years ago

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A Starlit Moon

Masterlist

Thorin Oakenshield x Original Female Character

Chapters: One | Two

Series Warnings: Typical violence, magic, fluff, angst, mutual pining, slow-ish burn?, insecurities, major character death, possible smut (at this stage I am undecided, will update when I get to that point)

Chapter 3

Words: 2,325

“You’re looking more than comfortable there.”

Louisa looked up at Gandalf with an amused smile. “Well, the chair is much more comfortable than the ground we usually sit on, and without the threat of a breeze blowing at my pages, I am certain I can get used to this.”

Gandalf chuckled and placed a plate of food down on the small table for her. “I’m sure it’s rather tempting for you, but don’t get too used to it, we’ll be back on the road tomorrow.”

She smiled, but her gaze was drawn to Bilbo, who was looking more than a little miserable and lost as the dwarves all settled down. “Are you sure Bilbo is up for this?”

He smiled. “Trust me.”

As much as Louisa had wanted to interact with the dwarves and get to know them a little better, she was rather glad she was on her own when the belching match started, quickly hiding a smile and giggle behind her book. It felt an oddly childish thing to do, but as the dwarves roared with laughter, she knew that no such thing would be looked down upon here. She was fairly certain that the laughter was needed.

The mood remained high as the meals were finished, and it seemed like little time at all before the two younger dwarves started to lead a song. Louisa’s foot tapped along, a smile on her lips as she continued to read, completely comfortable with those around her. If this was what the quest was to be like, she certainly wouldn’t complain.

A knock on the door made her stop and look up.

The mood shifted and silence filled Bilbo’s home for a moment, before Gandalf approached the door and the dwarves gathered in the hall.

Louisa waited, barely aware that she was holding her breath, the hairs rising on the back of her neck. There was something familiar about this new presence.

Thorin Oakenshield is let inside, stepping calmly into the hall, and Louisa suddenly knew, even as he said words to Bilbo, that he’d been the one she’d sensed at the inn that night. The one that had stood out amongst all the rest. It occurred to her, that there was a chance that Gandalf had spoken to him then, that that night spurred this whole journey.

The pain still sat heavily on his shoulders, even though he held himself proudly and even shared a smile with the two younger dwarves. He wasn’t one to let his suffering show, at least, not the full extent. Louisa felt her chest ache, but knew that this was not going to be a good time to dwell on it, as much as she wanted to help him more than anything.

Thorin turned, feeling a different gaze on him, looking around to meet her gaze. “Who is that?”

Gandalf hurried forward, clearing his throat and half blocking the doorway, quickly drawing Thorin’s unimpressed gaze away from her. “This is Louisa, Thorin, she will be traveling with us. She-”

“We cannot afford to be looking after others on this journey, Gandalf,” Thorin said, rather sternly, making Louisa raise an eyebrow. “Especially ones that do not look like they can defend themselves.”

“And if you let me finish,” Gandalf said quickly as Louisa went to protest. “You would know that she is my apprentice, and far from helpless. I will keep her out of the way as needed and she will not be a bother.”

Thorin looked her over, still looking unimpressed, but clearly Gandalf’s words had the intended effect. “I hope you intend to stay responsible for her then.”

Louisa frowned and went to talk again, but Gandalf cut in. “Yes, it has already all been discussed. You have my word that she will be no trouble.”

She snorted, earning a look from Gandalf and Thorin, but knowing that she would just be cut off again, she shrugged and went back to her book, waiting for them to return to the other room before she dared to look up again.

Everything was calmer now that Thorin was here, and she realised that he called deep respect from all those around him. They knew that when he talked, they should listen, and it was almost fascinating to watch the interaction as he was brought some food and drink. They all waited for him to be ready to start the discussion.

Louisa wasn’t sure what made her do it, but she got to her feet and stood in the doorway to her room, leaning against the frame, half listening to the discussion, but also observing the interactions with Thorin. The longer she watched, the more she realised that Fili, Kili, Balin and Dwalin, learning their names from listening, were the closest ones to knowing the true weight of what bore down on Thorin’s shoulders.

Responsibility.

It was so clear, clearer than what it was for anyone else, even with Gandalf after all these months, and it made such little sense. She had never felt anything this clearly with someone before. It was just another question now among many, but as Thorin turned around, she realised that this was not the time, and that she had been staring.

“Do you mind?” He asked, a little annoyed, a small argument breaking out between a couple of the other dwarves behind him.

Louisa raised an eyebrow, unperturbed. “I might not be able to sit over there, Master Oakenshield, but that does not mean I cannot observe. I need to know just as much as the others, kept out of the way or not.”

Thorin frowned but was interrupted by Gandalf who ducked out from around the corner. “Louisa, don’t you have a book to be finishing?”

She openly rolled her eyes. “I am not hurting anyone Gandalf. I am simply watching what is happening. I have a right to know who I am traveling with.”

It was Gandalf’s turn to frown, even as Thorin looked between them, slightly confused. “You would already know.”

“I know they are safe,” Louisa said, aware that the argument had died off and now the attention was fully on her and Gandalf, most of them having not heard her speak. “But their personalities are a completely different thing. Or does out of the way mean that I must sit by myself this entire journey?”

This clearly made Gandalf uncomfortable as there is a murmur around the room, shooting Louisa another look before sighing. “Fine, but please stay quiet. This is important.”

Thorin clearly doesn’t like this, but he turned back to the table, Louisa giving a small smile, glad that the attention was back off her so that no one saw it.

Ensuring she actually paid attention now, Louisa listened to the plan, or, half plan she thought, and what was to come. She hadn’t originally wanted to believe Gandalf about a dragon, but it was clear when it came into the conversation, that it was very much real.

The weight of the memory on some of the dwarves shoulders made Louisa shift a little uncomfortably. The dragon hadn’t been anything good, and even though the rumour was that it was gone, she had little doubt that nothing good lingered, whether the dragon was still there or not. They were far too powerful for their own good.

Then it was Bilbo’s turn to be involved within the conversation, as a burglar of all things, and Louisa didn’t blame him for one instant for becoming slightly panicked at the sheer idea of what they wanted him to do. The only thing that seemed to change the dwarves minds was when Gandalf spoke up, his power causing him to tower over them and seem to fill the room.

Louisa was no fool, Gandalf was a lot more powerful than what he ever let on, and while she had realised this when they first met, the more she got to know him, the more she realised at just how much he held back. She knew that anyone that ever went against him would either have to be very brave, or very foolish.

A contract was passed to Bilbo, one he started reading, and Louisa could feel his heart racing, feeling even worse for the hobbit. He wanted to be methodical, but each word was terrifying him more than the last.

“Incineration?” He asked, looking over at the dwarves, aghast.

“Oh, aye, melt the flesh off of your bones in the blink of an eye.” Bofur said, smiling. “Think furnace with wings. Flash of light, searing pain, and poof! You’re nothing but a pile of ash!”

Bilbo’s face went incredibly pale, and Louisa knew what was going to happen, even as he tried to fight it off, swaying dangerously on his feet, before passing out.

“That’s probably not how I would’ve tried to explain that.” Louisa said, even as Gandalf sighed and stepped out into the hall. “Last I checked mentions of death and dismemberment didn’t exactly help anyone.”

“Yes, thank you, Louisa,” Gandalf shot her a look as he crouched by Bilbo’s side. “That’s not helpful either.”

Louisa shrugged. “I’ll go make some tea then.”

All eyes were on her as she walked away, soon hearing her moving about in the kitchen.

“Bit of an odd one you have there, Gandalf.” Bofur said, looking just as bemused as the others.

Gandalf sighed, although there was a hint of amusement to it. “You have no idea.”

Bilbo took a little bit to recover, even with a steaming cup of tea that Louisa handed to him, and once he’d sat and thought, he was more adamant than ever that this journey was not for him.

Louisa could hardly blame him, even having been on the road, the thought was a little daunting, and for someone that rarely, if at all, left the Shire, the world outside would seem very strange and dangerous indeed, never mind the dragon.

He retreated to his room for the rest of the night, Gandalf giving a sigh before heading outside, and Louisa knew that he would sit out there, deep in thought, smoking his pipe. It was something that he did most nights.

She retreated to her book, although the thought of reading was no longer appealing, her mind wandering to the journey ahead, and she soon found herself sketching away, unfazed by the others as they seemed curious, but content to leave her be.

Louisa doesn’t look up until the singing starts, her pencil frozen in place at the wave of melancholy. The song was as sad as it was beautiful, a trace of hope laced beneath it, and a shiver goes up her a spine, quietly drawing in and releasing a deep breath to get herself back into focus.

It was like what had happened was suddenly clearer in her mind’s eye, the fire, the flames, the roar of a dragon flying overhead, and her heart ached further with each passing moment.

Another breath, the song ended, and she let out a small sigh of relief, the weight in her chest easing, and she quickly wiped tears away from her eyes, not having realised they were even there.

This was something that had never happened before.

She knew she would have to mention this to Gandalf, but for now, as the dwarves made plans to settle for the night, she would have to keep it to herself.

Louisa tried to go back to her drawing, but found herself distracted, her mind feeling far away. Instead, the pencil turns over in her fingers as her gaze lingered on the fire, lost in thought.

Thorin was soon the only one left awake amongst the dwarves, his mind working over the journey ahead, too restless to sleep. Carefully making his way around the others, he head to the front door, pipe in hand, only to find his step falter as he caught sight of Louisa still seated by the fire.

Her coat and cloak thrown over the back of her chair, she was only lightly dressed, no armour to speak of, and an uncertain feeling passed through his stomach, only growing stronger when there was no sign of a weapon either, only the two open books on her lap and pencil turning in her fingers.

“Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” He asked before he could stop himself, finally bringing her gaze away from the fire. “We have a long journey ahead.”

Louisa smiled softly and took her tea back in hand, mostly to stop herself spinning the pencil. “After my tea.”

Blue eyes held brown. “Isn’t it a bit late for tea?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Spending enough time on the road, you do miss the simple things.”

"The road is hardly a place for tea."

"The road isn't a place for a lot of things, but it doesn't stop them happening."

They stared at each other for a long moment, both trying to understand the other and this strange situation they found themselves in.

Thorin cleared his throat and frowned slightly. “Well, just don’t complain on the road tomorrow. That is the last thing we need.”

Louisa chuckled. “Trust me, Master Oakenshield, with the schedule Gandalf keeps, there isn’t much room for being tired. I am used to a long day's travel.”

His frown deepened a little, but he nodded and turned away. “We shall see.”

Louisa watched after him, taking a slow drink as she started to think more. He was stubborn, she would give him that, seemingly determined not to like her or Bilbo, but then, this could’ve also been due to all the pain he had faced before. It was never easy to trust someone through a pain like that.

She yawned and knew that she must rest soon. Looking at her cup and her half complete sketch, she decided that one more cup won’t hurt before whatever this journey ahead was going to bring.

#the hobbit #a starlit moon #thorin #Thorin Oakenshield #thorin x original female character #thorin oakenshield x original female character #long reads #fic series #mondays deserve this

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dashesofink · 5 years ago

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The Speaker | Chapter 3 |

A Hobbit Fic

Summary: Accompanying a group of 15 across the lands of Middle Earth was never something you dreamed of doing, especially after waking up in a strange forest. Yet after being found by a group of dwarves, you find yourself following after a Dwarven King and his company to reclaim a mountain. You had expected the hardships and battles that you all faced on the journey; however, the last thing you expected was finding someone along the way who would steal your heart away for himself, all while giving you the key to his own.

Pairing: TBA

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: none so far

A/N: So i think I’ve come to the conclusion that either Fili or Thorin will be the pairing for this story!! I put a little thing between each of them in this chapter, so let me know what you think please!! Hope you guys enjoy!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The Speaker Taglist: @legolaslovely @c4ts4ndstuff @nerdbirdsworld

Main Taglist: @t00-many-th0ughts @fizzyxcustard

Read also on: AO3 Wattpad

You wanted nothing more than to bundle up in a pile of blankets and fall asleep again. The rain that pelted your back and the top of your head soaked easily into your clothes, the cloak you had fastened around your shoulders doing little to protect you from the cold. Your arms were tightly wrapped around your riding buddy, Bofur, as you pressed your forehead to his back. His body was also soaking wet, as was pretty much everyone else in the company. A few grumbles of annoyance sounded out every once in a while, and if your throat wasn’t aching as bad as it was you probably would’ve done the same. It had been nearly a month since you appeared in Middle Earth, and it was easy to say that you had found a small place within the company of dwarves, along with the Hobbit and wizard. Surprisingly enough Thorin wasn’t as harsh to you as he had been the first couple of weeks, but he still seemed a bit hesitant and almost… meek around you. True to Fili’s words a couple of weeks ago, Kili had gotten over himself and finally talked to you again, much to your relief. However it wasn’t quite the next day that Fili had mentioned, it was more like the next week.

You wanted to chuckle at the awkward conversation that was held between the two of you— well, more like the awkward explanation that Kili had for his cold-shoulder towards you.

“I just— I don’t want uncle to see me as… as foolish.” Kili seemed to want to look everywhere except for you. His brown eyes, while filled with regret and guilt for ignoring you and acting cold, were looking around at the rocks and the trees as he avoided your gaze. The quill in your hand had stilled upon an empty page of the book that Bilbo had given you, and it wasn’t long after you sat down away from the group that Kili approached you for the first time in a week. The grip you had on the quill tightened as you watched him, the skin under his stubble glowing red, as did the tips of his ears while his fingers fumbled with his sleeves. He looked like a hurt puppy. “That’s not an excuse though, I know. And I apologize if I’ve upset you. I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to forgive me just yet, but I just wanted to see if there was any way that I could—“

The sound of your laugh froze Kili in his spot, and when he finally looked over to you since he started his rambling he saw a smile pull up your lips. Confusion ran hot through his body and his eyebrows knitted together as you continued to laugh. You should’ve been angry with him. He had been bracing himself for this conversation, the words running through his mind dozens of times before hand, and he had been telling himself that you would be crying and screaming— if you could scream that is— but you weren’t. “W-what? Aren’t you… aren’t you angry with me?”

Kili couldn’t seem to believe that you didn't seem upset or angry at him, which he wasn’t wrong to believe. You still felt hurt when he had avoided you. The pain in your heart was there, yes, but after many explanations from Fili you understood that Kili thought he was doing right by his uncle. He wanted to impress Thorin. So you left him alone to figure stuff out for himself. You had forgiven the young prince about the fourth day of him not talking to you, so all you had been waiting for, until this moment, was for him to come back and want to be your friend again. Your fingers grabbed a hold of one of his hands gently as you held your place in your book with a pressed leaf, and you felt the muscles in his palm tense when you pressed your fingers against his skin. Kili held in a breath as your cold fingers drew against his burning skin. Once you had finished writing Kili felt as if he was going to cry, and the smile that graced your lips was reassuring as you nodded.

I FORGAVE YOU. LONG AGO.

A small cheer fell past Kili’s smiling lips and in an instant he had pulled you to your feet and to his chest. His face was pressed deep into your shoulder and his hands held your waist as he shook your body happily, and another laugh rumbling in your chest at his excitement. You gave his back a soothing pat before he pulled away, and you were shocked to feel his hands gently grasp your cheeks. “I’ll never act that way again, Y/N, do you understand?” Kili’s nose was inches from yours as he brought your face down to his, your eyes blowing wide when you saw the sincerity swirling through his chocolate eyes. “If I do, I give you permission to give me a proper smack across the face.”

After that night things seemed to go back to normal between the two of you. Fili still kept a close eye on his younger brother whenever he was around you though. The golden prince still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Kili would do such a thing to you, ignoring you and acting as if you had some incurable and deadly disease. Sure, you were quite odd and most definitely the quietest person that they had ever met, but everyone in the company had some little ticks and quirks about them. Even after Kili had apologized and the two of you went back to normal, Fili couldn’t help but stick close by to you. He had taken it upon himself to watch over you and help you communicate with the others during Kili’s little tantrum, and ever since then he couldn’t deny how you had grown on him. Some way or another, you had caused a swirl of emotions to bury themselves deep within the eldest prince’s gut, and he would be lying to himself if he said that the feeling hadn’t grown at all. Even now Fili couldn’t seem to draw his eyes away from you, his lips pulling down into a deep frown when he saw how you shivered against the freezing rain and wind.

“Here, Mister Gandalf!” Dori’s voice somehow reached your ears through the pouring rain, though it still sounded muffled. You just barely peeked out from behind your cloaks hood, yet the dwarfs figure was blurred from the rain and the edge of your cloak. “Can’t you do something about this deluge?!” You definitely agreed with Dori’s question. Gandalf was a wizard, surely he could do something about the rain. If not stop it, maybe raise the temperature just a little bit. The rain had soaked you to the bone, as it had done with everyone else in the company, and you had a feeling that if you didn’t get somewhere warm and strip yourself of your drenched clothing, you would end up with a nasty cold. Which would only make the ache in your throat worse.

“It is raining, Master Dwarf!” You found yourself looking over to Gandalf as he replied to Dori, his words laced with slight annoyance. “And it will continue to do so until the rain is done! If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard.” You couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow at the funny statement. Gandalf had never made mention of any other wizards before, so you never really took it upon yourself to question whether or not that there were any.

“Are there any?” Bilbo’s voice suddenly sounded out, startling you a bit. You had been so caught up in trying to warm yourself against Bofur’s back that you had completely forgotten about the Hobbit.

“What?” Gandalf questioned.

“Other wizards.”

You let out a low growl whenever Bofur gave your wrist a small pinch, just to make sure you were still awake, or possible still alive in weather as bad as it was. His fingers felt like ice against your already frozen skin, making you jump a bit at the feeling before you slammed your fist into his stomach lightly. The action didn’t do much damage though. Bofur merely let out a grunt while you settled back down again, your temple this time resting against his back as you watched Gandalf. “There are five of us.” The wizard spoke. “The greatest of our order is Saruman the White, then there are the two Blue Wizards…” You blinked rapidly when drops of rain fell down your lashes and into your eyes a bit, the figure of the wizard blurring. The pad of your thumbs dug into your eyes, and only after you could see again did you notice how Kili was laughing at you. You shot him a warning look as you growled lowly once more, your mood only worsening as the rain picked up. “Do you know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.” When Gandalf spoke again you turned your attention back to him, only briefly though, as Fili was waving a few ponies away to get your attention.

It wasn’t hard to tune out the conversation that Bilbo ensued with Gandalf as you turned to look at the waving prince, as the rain suddenly began to pick up and pelt your back and head harder. You winced when heavy drops of rain hit your cloaked head, more rain dripping into your eyes and falling off of the tip of your nose when you tried to pull your hood down further. Fili watched as you tried to shield your body from the rain, a prominent frown pulling down his lips at your discomfort. On any usual day he would’ve offered you his coat, but the fabric and leather were thoroughly soaked through to the lining, leaving him to weigh more than he did before the day began and keeping him cold against the wind. You were shivering quite violently, he noticed as he spurred his pony to trot next to Bofur’s pony. The older dwarf only glanced towards Fili when he matched pace with him, his floppy hat falling over his eyes a bit when he turned back to the front.

“Are you feeling alright, Y/N?”

Your eyes narrowed to slits and one of your arms tightened around Bofur’s waist when you raised your other arm, both you and the prince watching as your arm, hand, and fingers shook underneath the weight of the rain and from the coldness that spread through your body. You gave Fili a look that he read as ‘what the hell do you think?’ before you squeezed your hand into a fist, trying to get some feeling back into it. “Right, stupid question, of course you don’t feel alright. Who does in this bloody weather?” Fili looked away as the tiniest of blushes flooded his cheeks. You couldn’t help the chuckle that rumbled in your chest at his small rambling. You had noticed how flustered Fili had been getting around you recently, and you couldn’t decide if it was because of how close the two of you had gotten the past few weeks or what. “I’d offer you my coat but.. well..”

You gave a small shrug when he swept his palm over the lining of his coat, only for it to drip with rain water when he showed it to you. It didn’t seem to help either that rain was still falling from the sky, however this time at a slightly slower rate. A thankful smile pulled up your lips at his offer. Even if by some chance that his coat was dry you wouldn’t take it. You could tell that even with how naturally high dwarves body temperatures were that he was struggling to stay warm in the rain. His lips were pressed into a thin line, his darkened blonde hair falling in soaking waves around his face and shoulders. The last of Gandalf’s explanation of wizards drifted through your ears as you surveyed the dwarf and it appeared that you had zoned out— your eyes sticking to his strong features and blue eyes— for the sound of Fili clearing his throat broke you away from your train of thought.

“Do you think the rain will stop anytime soon?” You looked up at his question, blinking some when raindrops threatened to hit your eyes. You quirked an eyebrow as you did so. Sure enough, it appeared that the rain was finally starting to slow, and as you peaked above the trees and into the sky your hood fell off. “Maybe we’ll get some sunshine after all.” You hummed in agreement when you looked away from the blue sky peaking through the grey clouds. Fili was smiling when you looked back to him, his fingers de-tangling his hair a bit while he locked his eyes with yours.

You held his gaze for a moment, and when he finally looked away you watched as his blue eyes danced over your features for a quick moment. You could see the way his lips twitched under his braided mustache and how his cheeks flushed with color. He turned away finally while his hands moved to wring out his coat and tunic as the rain slowed to a complete stop. The sun was peeking through the clouds and treetops now, providing little warmth to the company as they traveled. You watched Fili a while longer as a silence fell over the two of you. He truly was an odd dwarf, not that you knew many dwarves apart from the company, but it wasn’t a bad type of odd. In fact you quite liked him. Unlike with his brother, you felt calm and protected around Fili. It wasn’t that you felt unprotected around Kili— you knew that if the occasion arose that both of them would try to defend you— it was just a different kind of feeling. It was nice and warm and inviting. Your heart fluttered whenever Fili was next to you, and your body felt warm. It was an odd feeling you got when you were around him, just as he was odd, but you welcomed it nonetheless.

Hours had passed since the rain ceased and still Thorin lead you further down your intended path. The sun was burning hot against the company’s backs now, and soaked cloaks and drenched hair had been dried and braided back to keep out of the faces of the traveling dwarves. By now you felt as if you had a good idea on how to stay comfortable while riding a pony, however your techniques varied depending on which dwarf was your riding buddy. Only one stop had been made earlier on, to allow the dwarves and others to stretch and have a light snack. And now you were on your second. Thorin had declared a while back that this stop would be a bit longer than normal, though he didn’t state his reason for that, and most of the dwarves cheered at the statement.

Your cloak was hanging neatly over a branch as you rolled the sleeves to your tunic up. After weeks of traveling with only one pair of clothes, you were gifted with another set of clothing until you had a chance to clean your own. The tunic was slightly big on you, the hem reaching your upper thigh, and the trousers you had on hung loosely against your legs. You were as grateful as ever for the clothing. And it seemed that Ori was knitting you a sweater as well. You opposed of course, writing down that he didn’t need to waste his yarn and his time on fashioning something for you. But he insisted.

“You in there, Y/N?”

You shook your head and pushed Kili’s hand away from you when his knuckles knocked against your forehead. The sword in his hand glinted against the sunlight as he backed away. You looked down to the matching sword in your hand, your fingers tightening around the hilt as you weighed the weapon in your hand while inspecting the blade. The dwarvish sword certainly was quite heavy. Your arms struggled to lift the heavy metal each time you raised it to defend yourself from Kili’s weak attacks, and you had a feeling that if he had been using his full strength that you and the sword would’ve gone flying at a particularly high blow. But as time went on it became easier for you to lift the weapon. This was only one of many training sessions that the princes had put you through. At first they were hesitant to teach you to wield a sword, but you were a persistent person. You felt bad enough that they were always watching over you, ready with a raised bow and drawn swords to defend you from an attack. Though you appreciated it at first, you grew to hate it as time went on. You didn’t want to be defenseless anymore, to constantly rely on them to protect you. So you asked them to train you, to show you how to fight and wield a weapon. And they did.

“Remember to keep your elbows in, Y/N.” Fili called from the sidelines, his hair bouncing around his face while he nodded after he saw you correct your stance. "Feet apart— like that!" It had been hard for you at first to learn the fighting style that the dwarves used in battle. You found you had to tweak it here and there, as your body wasn’t quite the same as theirs was. And you were proud to say— as were Fili and Kili— that you had come along quite well with your training. Be that it may have been only a couple of weeks and that you still weren’t as steady as you would’ve liked, but you thought you could wield a sword fairly well.

Metal clashed against metal as Kili brought his sword down again, your knees buckling ever so slightly when the weight of it hit against your own sword. Sweat lined your forehead and dripped down your back as you deflected another blow of his. He didn't seem to be any better. He had shed his coat and was in his tunic, and you found it a bit surprising that he was working up a sweat as you sparred this time around. You watched the way Kili held himself as he went to attack again, his shoulders squared as he has taught you, but his body was oddly open for someone in ‘battle’. You quirked an eyebrow when you realized he small mistake, and suddenly feeling a bit adventurous, you took a step forward before locking blades with his. Sparks ignited suddenly when you slid your blade against his own, and you couldn’t help the triumph that burned in your chest when you saw Kili’s eyes widen when you hooked the tip of your blade against the hilt of his sword and pushed him back a bit. With a flick of your wrist his sword was knocked out of his hand and crashed to the ground. You locked eyes with him, your heart swelling with joy when you saw the disbelief swimming through his, and his hands raised in surrender when you stepped forward to set the tip of your blade against his neck gently.

You were unaware of watchful eyes as you and Kili sparred, so when a chorus of claps and cheers sounded throughout the camp at your small victory, your eyes blew wide. Kili clapped his hands along with the others as you dropped your sword to the ground with a huff, your arms now shaking from holding the heavy weapon for too long. “Well done, Y/N!” Kili’s hand landed heavily against your shoulder after he retrieved his fallen sword. “You’re getting stronger everyday, don’t you think so uncle?”

The temporary camp grew quiet as they all looked towards Thorin. His eyes were set upon you and Kili, and it seemed that the little sparring match between the two of you had interested him as well. You suddenly braced yourself for his words when he looked to you, his piercing eyes running over your sore and sweat-lined body. You knew that Thorin was an exceptional fighter, if not that best within the company, and surely he was bound to insult you on your poor form or lack of upper body strength. It was true that he wasn’t as cruel as he was when you first joined the company, but you could still sense a feeling of hesitation that Thorin had whenever he looked or spoke towards you. You couldn’t help but shy away from his gaze as he continued to silently watch you, your hands shakily picking up your fallen sword to place it back into its scabbard.

“Her form is quite odd,” Thorin’s voice finally sounded out and your breath lodged in your throat at the dulcet tone. “And she’s not quite holding the sword as she should, but—“ You froze hearing his last words. You couldn’t help it as you I looked over to him again, and to your surprise you found him staring straight at you. His eyes were shadowed by his eyebrows as he observed you, his arms crossed over his broad chest. You could feel yourself bristle under his stare and for the longest time you were sure that he wasn’t going to continue. But when you saw his lips twitch under his beard, you could’ve sworn your heart jolted. “— you’re improving, Y/N.” Thorin’s voice seemed lighter as he spoke directly to you, and the company of dwarves all seemed a bit surprised at their leaders sudden change in attitude, yet a few of them hummed in agreement to his next words. “You are doing well.”

The company went quiet when Thorin gave you a small nod. Your eyes blew wide at his compliment, and you wanted to run for the hills when you locked gazes with him. You couldn’t read the expression he had on his face, and his eyes were once again shadowed, but something was swimming in them, something you had never seen before. Something almost soft and warm. Moments of silence passed before he finally turned away from you to address the company, yet you kept your gaze on him. “We leave in ten minutes.” Thorin’s eyes fell upon you for a second more until Dwalin called him away, and it wasn’t until a hand was placed against your shoulder did you look away from the dwarven king.

“Told you he’d warm up to you eventually.” You looked to see Fili smiling warmly at you, his fingers digging into your shoulder slightly before he held out his canteen. You accepted the drink with a smile, the cold liquid soothing the ache in your throat and wetting your chapped lips. After handing him his water back you rested the weight of the sword in your hands again. “He’s right you know,” As you gripped the hilt with your fingers you looked to Fili in question. A dull ache settled in your arms as you tried to lift the weapon again, and you were soon to give up on lifting it, instead opting to sit against a rock as the prince continued. “You’re getting better, and stronger too.” To make his point Fili’s fingers gently kneaded your growing biceps and his lips spread into a smile when you blushed and pulled away from him.

“I agree!” Kili had come to your other side, his hair having been braided back and away from his neck to cool him off some. He took the spot next to you on the rock to rest for a moment. “In no time at all you’ll be as good a fighter as anyone here— well, except for Bilbo that is.”

It wasn’t long before the company grew tired again. Shortly after your sparring match with Kili and after the two of you had cleaned up, the company packed up their things and mounted their ponies. Fili happened to be your riding buddy this time around, as Bofur seemed to want some time to himself. You apologized as best as you could for disturbing him, yet he didn’t seem to be put out about it, seeing as wherever you were, the princes were soon to follow. Most of your time on the pony was spent with you and Fili chatting away— well him speaking and you replying on his palm. After the first couple of hours of discussing different weapons, how to improve your fighting, and for some reason why hair grew at different rates on different people, Kili came by and started another conversation with Fili.

For the time being, as the two brothers talked, you leaned against Fili’s back as you wrapped your arms around his middle. You felt him tense for a quick second when your front fell against him and your cheek landed on the hood of his coat, but he was quick to relax again. Kili took notice of the small smile that pulled up his brother’s lips as he eyes subconsciously glanced back to you, but he only brushed it off as Fili just checking up on you. Occasionally the brothers switched from English to Khuzdul, and you assumed it was because they were discussing something that you didn’t necessarily need to know of, so you paid no mind to them. Your eyes fluttered shut when a gentle breeze blew over your body, rustling your hair and pushing it behind your ears as you relaxed while listening to them speak. The language sounded rough to you at first, but the longer you heard it being spoken the more you found it quite easy to listen too. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t know a couple of words in their language by now. But that didn’t necessarily mean you could speak yet.

Despite the hours you spent trying to talk and formulate sounds, you still were yet to speak. The company had grown accustomed to the sound of your laughter and little grunts and squeaks that you used to communicate, but something was still blocking you from actually speaking. Gandalf had been cornered many times by Fili and Kili about it, the princes questioning him on whether or not he could help you speak again. But even the wise wizard was at a loss as to what was causing your voice to be lost. Many times had you sat down in front of the others while they sounded out words— some even in Khuzdul, much to your entertainment— yet each time you opened your mouth to speak, nothing except for a small gasp of air or a little squeak fell past your lips. Defeat was sure to settle in your heart after each failed attempt at speaking. But they were quick to reassure you that you’d be speaking again, and that all they had to do was “figure out what in Mahal’s name is blocking your voice!’.

Your memory situation wasn’t any better either. While yes, you were starting to see flashes of what you assumed was your home before your time with the dwarves, you still couldn’t seem to remember any names or faces. Outlines of glowing bodies is all you saw, and whenever your vision would pan to their faces, something like a static screen would shroud their faces and cloud your vision. At first you thought these dreams were of angels. But soon you could hear them speak. They were calling your name and you would respond, but you sounded like a child— no more than a toddler it seemed to you. So you assumed they were your parents. But that was all you could remember; glowing bodies and old homes, nothing more and nothing less.

“We camp here for the night!”

You jolted up when Thorin’s voice called out. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of the sleep that clouded your mind and fogged your eyes. You let out a sigh when Fili led your shared pony into a small clearing, yet your breath got caught in your throat when you saw the remnants of what looked to be an old house. Fili held on to your arm and waist gently as he helped you down from the pony, and once he was sure that you were firmly on the ground he gave you a smile. “Fili, Kili!” Thorin had another stern look on his face as he looked towards his nephews, and you failed to notice the quirk of his eyebrow when he saw how you lingered near Fili. “Look after the ponies.” He commanded, turning away from them and instead calling for another pair of dwarves. “Oin, Gloin— get a fire going.”

Fili turned back to you with a sheepish smile on his face. “Looks like I’m on pony duty tonight.” He told you. He seemed to be hesitant in leaving you. You gave him a reassuring smile before grasping his hand to give it a small squeeze, your hair bouncing around your neck when you nodded for him to go. Kili had already begun collecting some of the ponies, while a few dwarves decided to help the prince lead their animals to whatever clearing he could find. “If you need anything— and it could be the smallest thing,” He gave you a pointed look. “Come get me or Kili, okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his statement, but to ease the seemingly continuous sense of worry that resided in him you nodded your head as you smiled. With that Fili turned to collect the rest of the ponies, and you once again found yourself looking towards the burnt looking house. Curiosity got the better of you and you soon found yourself wandering in between the pillaged home, your fingers dancing over the cracked wood. A feeling of dread and what felt like a touch of evil was quick to wash over you when you touched the wood, and you frowned when the feeling only grew the longer you stood in the house. Soon enough you found yourself standing behind Thorin as he conversed with Gandalf, the latter meeting you eyes for a quick second before he looked back to the Dwarven leader with a stern glare.

“I think it would be wise to move on.” Gandalf stated, eliciting a small scoff from Thorin while you rose an eyebrow. “We could make for the Hidden Valley.”

“I have told you already, I will not go near that place.”

You couldn’t help the confusion that ran through your body at Thorin’s words and the bitterness that laced them. Surely Gandalf knew of a better, safer place than in a clearing with a burnt house— one that made you feel worried no less— so what made Thorin so hesitant to go near this Valley? “Why not?” Gandalf seemed to grow more frustrated as the conversation went on, and for a second you felt bad for intruding on their conversation. You took a tiny step back as you grasped another pillar of old wood, hiding behind it to give them a bit more privacy. “The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice.” Elves? At this point you wouldn’t doubt that Elves existed, especially after spending nearly a month with dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard. But what was the look that Gandalf shot you when speaking of advice? Could the Elves have some ideas on why you couldn’t talk?

Hope sprouted in your chest at the thought, and the small smile that formed on your face grew as you looked towards Thorin as he went to reply. “I do not need their advice.” Thorin’s voice was cold and biting and though you couldn’t see the front of him, you were certain that his eyes were narrowed in a heavy glare. His words made the smile on your face disappear. You weren’t entirely sure he knew that you were standing behind him, but even if he did his words burned your hope of finding out why you couldn’t speak and then of talking again at the roots. If Thorin didn’t want to go see the Elves, the one race that might be able to fix you, then surely you would not go.

“We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us—“

“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor and what help comes from the Elves?” You couldn’t help the small gasp that came from you at Thorin’s words. “Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves look on and do nothing.” A sudden bout of sympathy and sorrow buzzed through your body at his comment and you couldn’t help but feel for the dwarf. It was true that you had no idea what it was that the dwarves— namely Thorin— went through, and even though you were told the stories you never did quite understand it all. But the utter anger and woe that was sewn in with Thorin’s words troubled you. “You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed grandfather and betrayed my father?”

“You are neither of them.” Your eyes traveled to Gandalf when he spoke, his voice lowering when the touchy subject was spoken of, yet he still held a snappy tone in his words. “I did not give you the map and key for you to hold on to the past.”

“I did not know that they were yours to keep.” That seemed to be the last straw for Gandalf. The wizard let out a huff before spinning on his heels and retreating. You noticed how he shot you one last look before he stomped away from the house and towards the edge of the forest, and it wasn’t until you took another step forward did Thorin finally turn away. You froze when his eyes finally landed on your figure. His eyebrows quirked upon seeing you there, yet his lips turned down in a scowl when he realized that you had most likely heard his conversation with Gandalf. Not wanting to anger him more you raised your hands in defense while taking a small step back.

“I gather you heard everything.” Thorin’s voice was low and somewhat timid when he finally spoke. When you didn’t respond right away he shot you a questioning look, one to which you quickly nodded before hiding your arms behind your back under your cloak. He seemed to deflate at your response, his chest heaving with a deep sigh. Thorin remained silent for the time being when he stepped forward and towards what used to be a fireplace. You watched him as he seemed to fall into a deep thought. His eyebrows were knitted deeply together as he zoned out for a moment, and what light was left from the shining sun seemed to darken the lines that were on his face. He looked so tired and so angry. For the first time since joining the company you found yourself feeling sorry for him, and you didn’t even realize that you had moved again until you were beside him.

When your hand was set upon his shoulder he jumped a bit, his eyes widening for a moment when he looked towards your fingers curling around his coat and then to your face. Your lips were curled up in the smallest of smiles and your eyes were swimming with something Thorin couldn’t quite understand. You weren’t sure what compelled you to do so, but you found yourself reaching for his wrist, and when your fingers touched his skin you gently turned his palm to the sky. He flinched at the sudden touch at first but he didn’t pull away. Thorin had seen you do this with his nephews nearly hundreds of times before, and he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that you exactly did when cradling their hands. But now that you were doing the same to him, your palm holding the back of his hand gently while your finger traced letters against his palm, he felt himself freeze.

ELVES ARE BAD?

Thorin’s eyebrows raised to his hairline at your question. It definitely wasn’t the one he was expecting you to ask, and it brought a chuckle to come tumbling past his thin lips. He merely nodded his head in reply to your question before he looked back to your hands, your finger now gliding across his skin again. However, instead of paying attention to the letters you were drawing on his skin Thorin found himself paying more attention to the feeling of your hand against his. Your palm felt rather soft as it held on to his calloused one, and your finger left small tingles against his palm while your nails dragged across the skin. It brought shivers to his spine. After a while Thorin had noticed you stopped writing and when he looked up to you, he found you were looking at him, eyebrows raised and lips curled into a small grin. “My apologies,” He looked away for a second, his free hand clenching by his side. You easily repeated your past actions and traced your finger over his palm again, this time with him paying attention.

TELL ME ABOUT THEM?

“Maybe another time, Y/N.” Thorin failed to notice the frown that spread across your face when he dropped his hand from your grasp and he looked away. “For now, you should rest with the others.” You followed close behind Thorin as he walked to the edge of the burnt house, his eyes scanning the company of dwarves that were either sat around the fire or still unpacking their things. He hummed upon finding one dwarf in particular. “Come on, Bombur, we’re hungry.”

After that you shared another look with Thorin when he turned to you, this time his eyes softening when you smiled before he stalked off. You watched him for a while longer before you stepped down onto a rock in front of the house, your back facing the inside of the old and ransacked house as you looked out to the dwarves. Dread still lingered over you when you were in the house, but it seemed stepping out onto the open lifted that feeling a bit. As commanded Bombur worked quickly to put together some supper. You weren’t quite sure what it was that he was cooking, but at that point you didn’t care. Your stomach was rumbling and aching with hunger. The dwarf was kind enough to relieve you of your duties for the night, allowing you to rest for the time being as he chopped herbs and splashed what few spices he had into the broth. You were thankful for him doing that, but silently promised that you would at least wash whatever bowls and utensils that needed to be cleaned at the end of the night. It wasn’t long before the sun fully set and disappeared behind the hills of the horizon, and soon enough the moon replaced it, followed by millions of burning stars.

Shortly after Bombur had finished cooking and called for the company to come get their fill, you were sat snuggly between Ori and his older brother, Dori. The younger of the two had finished his supper in record time, explaining that if he did so he would have more time to work on your sweater. Dori, though smiling at the fact that Ori wanted to make something for you, scolded his brother for scarfing his food down so fast. You chuckled at the brothers, watching as Ori expertly worked his needles around the thick olive yarn as you scooped spoonfuls of your supper into your mouth.

“He’s been gone a long time.” You turned away from Ori when Bilbo spoke up for the first time in a while. His gaze was fixated on the edge of the forest, the same spot where Gandalf had disappeared into hours before. You frowned upon realizing that his words were true. It had been quite some time since the wizard wandered off to collect his thoughts and calm down again, and in thinking back to his argument your eyes wandered over to where Thorin was sat. The frown on your face sunk in deeper when you noticed his lack of food and that he was isolated from the company. Even Dwalin was being social and was mingling with his brother a bit.

“Who?” You stood up when Bofur questioned the hobbit. You had finished your own supper seconds beforehand, and as you handed him your bowl you saw how his smile widened. He must’ve thought that you were hungry for more, and while on a normal night you would’ve welcomed seconds, you shook your head. Instead your finger pointed towards an empty bowl that had yet to be filled with supper.

“Gandalf.”

Bofur seemed confused by your request at first, but when you motioned to where Thorin was sitting by himself, a fond smile formed on his lips under his beard before he replied to Bilbo. “He’s a wizard. He does as he chooses.” After filling the bowl with supper and handing you a small loaf of bread Bofur gave the back of your hand a small pat. He had seen the way Thorin’s attitude had been changing towards you little-by-little, and your little interaction earlier made his chest fill with pride; the dwarf felt proud that you were finally giving the leader of the company a chance. “Here, do us a favor. Take this to the lads." Bofur watched your retreating figure for a second before he filled and handed two bowls off to Bilbo, giving the hobbit a look before turning back to Bombur, giving his hand a small smack. “You’ve had enough! Save some for the rest of us!”

It seemed that everyone in the company knew of your intentions as you weaved your way through them. You could feel them smile at you or give you encouraging gestures as you neared Thorin, your cloak brushing against fallen logs and jagged rocks. Especially Balin. The white-bearded dwarf seeming to have glowing eyes as he watched you, his lips turned up in a smile as he talked with Dwalin. Your steps stilled when you were a few feet away from him, and it seemed he still had yet to notice you. His eyes were cast over the dark horizon and on to the hilly plains. He seemed deep in thought again, and it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that he finally looked at you.

“Y/N. What’re you— oh…” Thorin’s eyes found your outstretched hands and the bowl of supper you were offering him. Upon looking to the food his stomach let out a monsterous growl. You weren’t sure if it was because of the exhaustion that was messing with your vision or the shadow of the fire, but you could’ve sworn you caught a blush settling under his beard and on top of his nose. “Thank you.” His fingers brushed against the top of your hands as you passed him the bowl of warm supper, and his lips turned up into a smile when he did so. Just as before your skin felt soft against his own. You gracefully returned the smile once he had his supper in his hands, and you gave a small nod before lacing your fingers together behind your back as you turned to leave. But he stopped you. “Y/N, wait. Would you sit with me. I would like to.. discuss something with you.”

You froze at his words. As you turned back to face him you wrapped your cloak tighter around your body, a sudden feeling of dread washing over you again. However whatever it is he wanted to discuss wasn’t something you needed to fear, it seemed, as the look on his face was soft and almost kind. His eyes seemed lighter in the moonlight and a sincere smile was on his face. Thorin had moved to the side a bit, allowing a small space for you to sit next to him. “Please, Y/N.” Your feet seemed to move on their own and soon you were standing in front of the spot, your knee just brushing the fabric that covered his own. You looked between the open space and him for a moment as a hesitancy filled your gut. This had been the first day that he had tried to engage in civil conversation with you, and even though you found his words oddly pleasant, you couldn’t help but shy away a bit, fearing that maybe he would revert to his old self and go back to hating you. But you compiled anyways, yet anxiety still settled in your stomach as you sat next to him.

“I just want to… apologize for my actions towards you. I have not been the most civil dwarf towards you.” You kept your eyes on your fingers as you listened to his words. It was shocking to hear them fall past his lips in such a hurry as they did, and you didn’t doubt that if you were to be looking at him he wouldn’t be looking back at you. “I understand if you are not willing to accept my apology right away, as I know that since your arrival I have been nothing but cruel towards you. Truly I am sorry for the way I’ve treated you. Had I realized earlier that.. that you—“ By now your gaze had landed on Thorin as he voiced out his apology, but for some reason he seemed at a loss for words now as he clenched his jaw. His apology sent your heart soaring into the sky and you felt relief flood your veins. You could see he was still trying to figure out what to say next, and when gratitude sparked in your stomach you reached out for him again, your fingers curling around his thick ones. Thorin glanced to the way your hand wrapped around his own, and he couldn’t help but smile. “I do not deserve the patience and kindness you have shown me, Y/N.”

It was true, he didn’t think he deserved how kind you had been to him and how patience you were. It was often that during your travels that his words were biting and intending to harm you, but each time you merely nodded and complied with his commands. Granted, you never really smiled as much as you had smiled towards him this day, but you never once defied him. Mostly it was out of fear that you didn’t go against him, but he always saw you pressing on. When you shifted your hold on his hand to press a finger against his palm Thorin looked down, his blue eyes watching as you drew soft letters into his skin.

YOU HAD REASONS.

Thorin frowned at this. Yes, he did have his reasons for acting cold towards you, but that didn’t mean they were necessarily good reasons. He kept quiet when your fingers moved again, this time his eyes lingering on your face rather than on how your fingers moved against his skin. You eyes were shining with sincerity as looked down, your lips pursed and your teeth gnawing on the skin of your cheek every so often. The way your skin seemed to glisten in the moonlight was something that Thorin had never noticed before. Neither had he paid any mind to the way your hair seemed to fall in soft waves over your ears. A sense of longing suddenly erupted in the pit of his stomach, his fingers suddenly itching to caress the strands of your hair and comb them with his fingers. Yet he shook the feeling away when your fingers tapped against his palm two times, gaining his attention again. You went back to writing for the third time, and this time Thorin made sure to not let his eyes wander.

ALL IS FORGIVEN.

“Are you certain?” Thorin’s voice was tight and he suddenly scooped your hand into his large ones. The look he sent your way caused your breath to hitch. “I know I cannot change what happened but I—“ You were quick to cut him off with a tight squeeze to his hand. Once again your lips were pulled into a smile, though this one larger than ever before, and you nodded frantically hoping that he understood. All at once he seemed to relax, relief causing him to heave out a deep sigh. His fingers tightened around yours once more and the smile on his face shone with gratitude. A peaceful silence fell upon the two of you shortly after that, yet your hands stayed locked together when you looked out into the twinkling stars that covered the sky. The smile on your face was soft and genuine, and for a moment you felt that after your warm supper, your new friendship with Thorin, and the sudden buzzing feeling of contentment in your heart that you would sleep like a baby tonight.

But the moment of peace and stillness didn’t last for much longer. You jumped when Fili came bursting through the tree’s, face red and chest heaving as he stumbled to a stop as his hands dropped against his knees while he gasped for air. Your eyes blew wide at the sight and worry spread through you as you went to go to him, your cloak blowing behind you as you dashed forward. Thorin dropped your hand as you did so, but not before his fingers brushed against your palm as he let you go. You stopped, however, just by the fire when Fili jumped up, eyes wide with fear as he looked around the camp. When his eyes landed on you he reached forward, fingers beckoning you to come to him. Yet as he spoke, your blood ran cold with fear as you stayed glued to your spot.

“Trolls!”

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rhodochrosite-love · 4 years ago

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Watched LOTR and The Hobbit within the span of two weeks here comes my oc genealogy (tw long post and rape mention)

So it all starts with Oropher, King of Mirkwood and father to 3 sons-- Thranduil, Galador, and Eldaerenth (last two are self made, not canon) and The youngest is at the Battle of Dagorlad, where his father was slain. He was gravely injured, and had been patched by his elder brother Galador.... In time Thranduil had not only inherited the kingdom but had a son as well. When his beloved was lost, however, Thranduil became hostile and did not wish to be consoled. He even struck Eldaerenth, leaving him quite the trauma.

The youngest of Oropher abandoned the elven kingdom and sought the company of danger, quick to slay goblins and orcs with the blade that he himself had forged within his family’s walls. As time passed he found himself fighting werewolves on the eastern borders of Hobbiton, and he had fallen injured on the doorstep of Galswinth Diggle, sister to Dina Diggle.

Galswinth took great care of him and made him feel more at home than he had ever felt in Mirkwood. Years passed and they found themselves married and in deep love... They would have two children, a boy and a girl, and their names would be Blithe Diggle and Shaidalar Diggle, respectively.

Why are their names not Treeleaf, you ask? Well, Eldaerenth had changed his name to Diggle when he married Galswinth, as to separate himself further from his family.

Blithe would grow up to be quite the curious half hobbit-half elf. He would invest himself in other hobbits lives and make merry with many! A time had come when he had wished to venture, though.... quite unheard of! However his father had given him his blessing and told him all he needed to know to survive, and warned him of the dangers that lie ahead....

It was on his adventures he met a gaggle of dwarves from Nogrod, one of which was Thomli Tunnelfoe; A Dwarven woman who had wanted to hurt Blithe more than anyone else.

She just didn’t understand him, how could an elf even mate with a hobbit? they’re smaller than dwarves! it’s freakish-- Blithe didn’t seem to mind, in fact he was falling in love with her fighting spirit! He often copied her to learn to fight better, and in time she did teach him the proper way to hold an axe.

Years upon years later did they tie the knot-- Their children would grow up to be peacemakers that fought in the War of the Ring.

Thrirlum Diggle, the eldest daughter with dwarvish stature and hobbiton features with an appetite for a thousand chickens

Drerlum Diggle, the second eldest daughter with hobbiton stature and slightly elvish features who did not fear the brunt of the goblin blade

and Childebrand Diggle, the youngest son with a elven stature (aka, taller than all 4 of the others) with dwarvish and hobbiton features, with a soul strong enough to outlast more than you’d think!

On Shaidalar’s side, things did not pan out particularly well for her. She had always hoped to have many children and live a sweet life in The Shire... but fate had different plans for her.

When she had ventured out to hunt a special meat in the Weather Hills, she was attacked and assaulted by Ergoth the Snarling, and impregnated her. For months she was at a loss as to what to do to this child other than to kill it. Months and months had passed and she was in agony, with her family and friends to help her through the pregnancy. When the child was born, she had cast it out and did not care what would become of it.

Eldaerenth had stepped in here. With his beloved Galswinth slowly dying he had begun to realize his growing lonliness. What better way to occupy himself than to take care of an outcasted creature? And his grandson no less...

Adelbert Diggle grew up to be the most peaceful of Diggles, to everyones surprise.

Years after Adelbert, Shaidalar had met a man who requested aid from her father, and had offered her own services. She knew the dangers of the outside world fairly well now, but had learned how to use a sword and shield and wanted to fight for herself. The man, Caldwell Lonevale, accepted her help and her wisdom.

After a roaring battle with a different kingdom of man, he had married Shaidalar, and they had two sons together.

Brim Lonevale, a shorter than average man who had a great knack for blacksmithing

and Ankilm Lonevale, a man with stubby hobbiton features who took to breadmaking.

Unbeknowest to Shaidalar, however, Calswell was kanoodling with a human woman. From the enemy side no less! They had been kanoodling for a while now, and it was Blithe who told his dear sister.

Years after their divorce, it was an elven man who had happened upon her in the kingdom of man, finding her so intriguingly out of place. He was the steward of Elrond, and had dropped by every time they had come to council the human king. Shaidalar and Falael Arrowmark had grown very fond of each other, and grew as people together.

This time, Shaidalar had a daughter, Tialla Arrowmark.

...Tiallas childhood was not as happy as you may think. She faced racism every day and began to hate her own races-- hobbiton, elvish, dwarvish, orcish, human, all weren’t enough and too much at the same time.

To cope she fought creatures of the shadows and gained skills in which no mortal could posess. It was only on the borders of the Shire did she finally collapse from exhaustion and defeat....

....which is how she met her beloved, similar to her grandparents.

Arlad Cottonbottom was one of the Shires finest bachelors, and while he wanted children he struggled with the concept of marriage. Everyone wanted to please him, never showing their true selves... so when a cute woman with mystic abilities lands on his doorstep, he cannot lie and say that he isn’t attracted.

Tialla is hostile and speaks in a harsh elvish, which Arlad finds soothing despite her tone. She is fussy the entire time she is resting, but she softens when she sees what he does for a living! Arlad is a toymaker-- a plush stuffer specifically. He brings so much joy to the young halflings. He opns his heart to her and she cant help but fins him endearing...

Years later they find themselves wed, and go on to have a sweet baby girl.

Eirlys Cottonbottom, who is my main girl. My epic, tattooed sweetheart whom i love so much.

She gets a tattoo every time she visits a new town (or she draws a symbol on a cloth and has it tattooed by her dwarf cousins later). She gets to meet the company of Thorin Oakenshield! Gandalf knows her well enough to know that she is trusted. Bilbo is surprised to find that she is of hobbiton, but no surprise she comes from Eldaerenth. He is well known within the Shire as a thieving, conniving dark elf by the grumpy.

Throin and the rest of the dwarves are put off by her family origins (or as much as she had been willing to share) but were all automatically in love with her when she downed an ale in no time flat. Legolas finds her refreshing, as he had never even known he had a family member such as she.

She would give her all and give some more for the company, and she is at the dwarves’ side in the very end and feasts with them in the great halls of Erebor.

I’m sure she’ll either fall into a slumber when she is old, or she dies on the battlefield... perhaps she accompanies the fellowship?

if you got this far i freakin salute you chief, go ahead and give this a reblog pwease

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littlelucifermotherfucker-writes · 5 years ago

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Grief, Injury, or Shame : A Mystery Of Hair

Word Count : 785

Oneshot

AO3 Link

Hair. It seemed the dwarves had very set beliefs and ideas about hair. You could already tell that much from the way they all had braids. The way they cared for said braids. Then there’s the beards.

Clearly this was all lost on you, being a human, dragged from a different world. You had had long hair. For all of your life. Then one day, as you were dying of heat and trying to study. You snapped. Marching out of the hairdressers with your new short hair filled you with power.

It suited you better, and then 2 years later you began dying it bright blue. The shade was finally right at the end. Deep and it faded to a blue toned silver. You had only had a cut and dying recently. No more than a couple of days before ending up with the dwarves and a hobbit.

You knew they wanted to know. To ask. Yet there had been little time, and they seemed reluctant. They had clearly gotten used to it, but the elves in Rivendell were mildly surprised when you appeared with short blue hair.

The evening had drawn out, and dusk was falling. The dwarves had sang merrily, and now were sat talking amongst themselves. You had began to doze softly. Then all too soon you were fast asleep.

This wasn’t missed by Fili and Kili. They shared a look, and your leg was gently poked. Nothing. Knowing that you were fast asleep, they moved away from you a little and closer to the main group.

Unbeknownst to you every dwarf, and a certain hobbit, placed bets. They were going to finally ask about your hair. There were three reasons hair was short amongst dwarves. At least as short as yours.

1) Grief, some dwarves when facing great loss would cut their air very short. That tradition is less common within the dwarves of Erebor but it does happen.

2) Injury, it is well know that injuries and scars can stop hair growth. Although they couldn’t seen to understand how that would occur on your head.

3) Shame, that had been the most popular bet by far. When deeply shamed, a dwarf will cut their hair short as part of moving on.

Little did they all know they were very wrong. Bilbo had bet on none of these. Exactly what is something for you to hear.

The next morning you had sparring with Thorin. You were tragic. Then you had a bath, and fi=ound a quiet spot for you to draw. Your small sketchbook had a variety of sketches. All of the dwarves were in there. As was Gandalf and Bilbo. The ponies. The trolls. Lots of landscapes. After a couple of hours of drawing you went for a walk. The fact you had got to see any of this baffled you, and you were damned if you were going to miss out.

Yet again evening rolled around. This time the talk was of hair and you felt something was going on. It had not been mentioned once so far. You obviously asked questions, humming softly at answers. You learned that both nephews had managed to burn patches of hair off as children. That did not surprise you at all.

You found it interesting how different it was for Bilbo. Hobbits tended to not care too much about hair, unless it was the women. They had fancy braids and put it up.

Then you chip in. “That’s closer to what our culture is. We kinda do what we like to it. Its all personal preference.”

Fili seems confused. “You like having your hair short?”

“Yeah. I had it long…” Before you can finish the dwarves jump in. You look baffled. You had noted all of their questions and began to address them one by one. “It was somewhere like mid back. Its naturally wavy, but all I ever did was put it in a bun off my face and neck. It was inconvenient and a hassle. Then one summer it got really hot, and I couldn’t bear it. So I cut it all off. It’s been like this for around 3 years. I like it blue so I dye it once every couple of months.” You explain happily.

Bilbo looks at you, as do the rest of the dwarves. Thorin speaks up. “You cut your hair short because it got in your way?” He questions, and in response you nod.

Bilbo smirks. “I suppose I win the bet then.” He mumbles and you sigh shaking your head at the dwarves. Then you start laughing. The dwarves grumble for a full day, especially after all of them had to pay the hobbit.

#The hobbit #reader insert #fanfiction #oneshot

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exquisitley-obsessed · 7 years ago

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The Three Women Of Durin - Training (15)

MASTERLIST FOR THS STORY

(gif not mine)

“Okay now lean back, that will be your advantage,” Dwalin said watching carefully as Frankie did as he said perfectly. “Very good.” It was late in the afternoon and the girls had spent the whole day starting their training sessions. Different people had dropped by at different points of the day however the prince brothers had not once left their side.

“Maybe when you want to Frankie, I can teach you how to use that bow of yours!” Kili called from the side, Frankie only hummed in response as she successfully landed a tap on Cece. Cece groaned as she was yet again defeated by Frankie.

“I suck,” Cece sighed.

“And Frankie swallows!” Rosie called from where she was gripping onto Dwalin’s back trying to get him on the floor, failing miserably.

“Woah! What did I do?” Frankie called playfully, unable to conceal her laughter, the three dwarves simply raised an eyebrow. By the end of their training session, the sky was dark and the stars shone brightly from where they were scattered, the girls had acquainted their own selection of bruises off today's work. They sleepily made their way back up to their rooms before each of them taking a warm bath and slipping between the sheets, almost instantly falling asleep.

This was how things worked for a whole week, the girls waking up before the crack of dawn to meet Dwalin, Fili and Kili in their training area. They would work the whole day only stopping for lunch until the sun had set. The progress was extremely visible, the girls managed to pick it up easily, even Cece. However, it was one thing to spar and another to try and kill someone.

Frankie managed to get out of afternoon lessons soon since she and Kili would disappear into the woods to practice using the bow and arrow. Fili ended up majorly teaching Cece, showing her all the different ways to use her selection of daggers, he was after all a dagger master.

That meant Rosie had found herself with Dwalin who refused to take it easy on her. For the first part of the week, she stood no possible chance against him, being thrown this way and that. She had the most bruises since instead of learning how to fight with a weapon she was first learning hand-to-hand fighting. Except on one day she somehow managed to predict most Dwalin’s moves this meant she could sneak a few of her own in. She was still nowhere near defeating Dwalin, but it was better than being a punching bag.

Although the girls repeatedly got pushed down into the mud, none of them gave up, refusing to show the dwarves a weak side to them. They were all stubborn in their own way, not dwarf-stubborn but something similar. Soon Dwalin started to teach Rosie how to use her sword, but not before running a short test on her.

“Good job Rose,” Dwalin sighed happily, Rosie had just successfully spared with Dwalin for a full 10 minutes, sure he was going very easy on her but still for a week’s worth of time it was damn good. It was midday and the sun was beating down on them harshly. Both their bodies were shiny with sweat, Rosie was wearing a thin tunic and some leggings and had her hair pulled out of her face, wisps falling out and framing her face.

“Good, now this time, hurt me,” He said.

“But- “Rosie started.

“No buts,”

“But- “

“No. “Dwalin cut her off, Rosie sighed and got ready. Right at this moment, Thorin had stopped by to check on the progress, and he obviously had to come right when Dwalin was going to go full-notch. “1, 2, 3!” Dwalin shouted before charging at Rosie, eyes blazing. Rosie did not expect this and ended up clumsily diving to the side as Dwalin crashed into the space where she just was. He then dived for her giving her milliseconds to roll again away, she turned and stood up seeing Dwalin on the floor, this was her chance. She jumped on his back, not really doing much and pushed his head down to the stone with her foot. Of course, what she forgot was that Dwalin wasn’t going easy.

Dwalin simply stood up, Rosie falling clumsily off his back and onto the thick stone ground causing both Thorin and Rosie to wince. Dwalin leapt up, quick and agile, Rosie groaned where she was on the floor causing Dwalin to pause for a moment where he was about to check on whether she was hurt. Rosie used this to her advantage and leapt up bringing her knee to his groin, the attack hit its mark and Dwalin keeled over for a moment, Rosie again brought up her knee and it collided with Dwalin’s face he, moved back. Thorin smiled. Rosie prepared for Dwalin to come back at her but Dwalin just laughed and clapped.

“Well done lassie, but don’t hold back next time, when you knee me in the face really go for it!” He critiqued but clapped her on the back all the same. Thorin smiled once more, pleased with her progress before going to view how Frankie and Kili were getting along in the woods.

“Now lassie, we got hand-to-hand almost nailed we should work on that sword of yours, get it out,” Dwalin said, wiping his forehead down with a cloth. Rosie pulled the sword from her bag, once again feeling power course through her and handed it to Dwalin. Dwalin nodded and flipped the blade over, he then unsheathed it and viewed the blade with a frown.

“I am unsure of which race could have forged this blade, it is certainly not elvish, dwarvish or human. These markings along the hilt, some are in Khudzul, others I do not know. It does not matter. Take the blade and hold it straight in front of you,” Dwalin instructed and Rosie did as told. Dwalin nodded as he encircled Rosie, lost in thoughts.

“You picked a perfect blade for your body, does it not feel like an extension of your arm?” Dwalin asked, impressed. Rosie nodded. The rest of the day was spent as an introduction to using the sword, this seemed easier to Rosie than hand-to-hand combat.

Another week passed and soon Rosie had mastered hand-to-hand and was getting rather good with a blade. She spent more time with Fili this week since Dwalin preferred to use an axe, she became good friends with Fili at this time. He was sweet and caring yet strong in his own sense. He told Rosie of how he dreaded to become the next king and how he feared for his uncle and his little brother, with Rosie’s knowledge it softly broke her heart.

By the end of the two weeks the company had chosen a day to leave, and soon it was their last night in Rivendell and it was spent feasting by themselves in front of an open fire. Thorin and Gandalf had disappeared but the girls were certain they could handle themselves. At one point Bofur threw a sausage at his overweight cousin causing him to fall through the table he was sitting on, this caused the dwarves to roar with laughter and glee.

Rosie, Frankie and Cece however, watched at their hobbit friend sneaked away, pausing for a moment before they followed close behind. They went up some stairs not making their presence apparent where they stood and watched sleepy Rivendell, soon the faint voices of Gandalf and Lord Elrond could be heard.

“Of course I was going to tell you I was waiting for this very chance,” Came the voice of Gandalf, this couldn’t be good, “And really I think you could trust that I know what I’m doing,” He said.

“Do you?” Came Elrond’s voice, “That dragon has slept for 60 years, what will happen if your plan should fail…” The girls listened as Elrond and Gandalf spoke, Elrond seemed to be showing himself in a different light right now, and the girls weren’t quite sure if they liked it. The hobbit at some point glanced behind him and saw the three girls and behind them, Thorin. Gandalf and Elrond began discussing Thorin himself, making everyone quite tense.

“Have you forgotten? A string of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind! His father has fallen to the same sickness, can you swear? Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?” Elrond said. Rosie winced. Looking behind she saw Thorin staring down at the floor, his face riddled with anger and…fear.

“Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone it is not up to you or me to re-draw the map of middle earth…” Elrond’s voice continued, getting further away. Bilbo turned and trotted back the way he came, an innocence surrounding him, Frankie and Cece following behind. Rosie was about to go when she turned around and grabbed the wrist of Thorin, he glanced at her, his face unreadable.

“I promise, I won’t let you fall for the gold sickness,” She said, there wasn’t much she could really do about the gold sickness but like her dad said, she could always try. “I swear it,” This seemed to make him feel better and he nodded his head.

“Thank you,” He whispered, his voice cold.

“But there’s one thing you must promise me,” She said, her voice now to a whisper.

“Don’t let your stubbornness let the sickness in. If you feel the effects, then say it. The first step to solving a problem is admitting there is a problem,” She said like a mother would do a child, softly and warmly. Thorin nodded and turned away from Rosie, wanting to be alone. Rosie got the jest and walked back down the stairs.

They were to leave Rivendell tomorrow.

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samayla · 7 years ago

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Fic: Gemini Chapter 5

AO3

Bilbo may be a Baggins of a Bag End, but his twin sister Bella inherited all their mother’s Tookish tendencies. If one Hobbit burglar is good, surely two will be better… right?

Rating: G

This is going to be a huge multi-part fic. I’ll be tagging it #HobbitGemini for anyone who wants to follow it, or shoot me a message if you’d like me to tag you specifically. I'm thinking 2 updates per week. Probably Wednesdays and Sundays for now. I’m posting this one a little bit early, mostly because I want to go to bed. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Late for Dinner

Chapter 2: An Unexpected Party

Chapter 3: No One West of Bree

Chapter 4: A Gentledwarf

Chapter 5: A Much-Needed Ally

“Come along, Ori. We don’t want to keep Mister Gandalf and our new burglar waiting.” Dori tried in vain to hustle her youngest sister along from where she’d stopped — yet again — in the lane.

“Hang on, Dori,” Ori answered, pulling a sketchbook and charcoal out of one of her many pockets. “I just want a quick sketch. Isn’t this view charming? I’ll bet it’s even prettier in the daylight.”

“It’s a door,” Nori said flatly from somewhere behind them. Dori tried not to put too much thought into why her middle sister was behind them again, when she’d gone on ahead earlier. She probably wouldn’t approve.

Ori hummed an absentminded agreement, her charcoal already flying across the page in light, practiced strokes.

“Come on,” Nori moaned at the sound of a doorbell up ahead, herding her two sisters toward the gate with her arms thrown wide. Ori looked surprised by Nori’s impatience, but Dori wasn’t. She probably had money riding on some aspect of this meeting and was anxious to get her payout. Once, Dori would have been upset by such a notion, but Nori was so good at her money games, they could hardly be called gambling anymore.

Ori ducked out from under her sister’s arm with the ease of long practice and stepped back into the lane to put the finishing touches on her drawing. Dori tried to follow, but as she was normally the one doing the herding, rather than being herded herself, she was easily stopped by Nori’s grip on her arm. “Leave her,” she ordered with an eye roll, and she dragged Dori along through the garden. She probably needed Dori to witness for whatever she’d bet on.

By the time they reached Gandalf and the others waiting on the stoop, Ori had finished and caught up to them. She hastily stuffed her art supplies back into her pockets. Dori straightened her scarf and wiped a smudge of charcoal off her nose, but Nori ducked away from similar treatment, using their youngest sister as a shield. “Oh, no, you don’t!”

Dori was about to hiss a reproach, when an angry voice drifted through the round green door. Apparently, any hopes she might have had of making a good first impression were in vain.

“…some clot head’s idea of a joke, I can only say, it is in very poor taste!”

Light flooded into the front garden from the suddenly opened door. For once, Dori’s sisters’ antics seemed to have been more helpful than not. They saved the three of them from being part of the very undignified heap of dazzled dwarves lying in the hobbit’s front hall. Nori looked quite smug about that fact, as if she’d somehow managed to plan to be one of the few left standing. Dori swatted her shoulder, and the smirk disappeared.

“Gandalf.”

Dori was quite certain that she’d never dare treat a wizard to a Look like the one the hobbit gave Mr Gandalf then. Even Thorin would never dare give him such a Look - at least not to his face. She couldn’t decide whether this display of audacity heralded the end of the burglar or the beginning of the end of the dragon.

Then someone small had tackled Gandalf about the waist, and the wizard was laughing. Next thing Dori knew, Nori was helping a little hobbit lass pull Bombur off the top of the pile, and Ori was squeaking at Dori to let her go, and the male hobbit still hadn’t been turned into anything unnatural, so Dori dared begin to hope. She relinquished her death grip on her youngest sister, and they both joined the effort of righting all their toppled companions.

Soon, all the dwarves were on their feet once more, and the lass turned her attention to greeting them all properly. “Bella Baggins, at your service,” she said with a curtsy and a smile. “And this is my brother, Bilbo.” She dragged the male hobbit forward from the muddy trunk he’d been sitting on.

He opened his mouth to say something, but all he managed was a sort of strangled moan, and he gave up on the notion of speech in short order. Instead, he made an effort at a polite nod to each of them, but between the mud stains all up and down his trousers, and the patched dressing gown that had slipped its ties, and the sheer number of times he had to nod to greet them all, he ended up looking rather ridiculous anyway.

Dori stomped on Nori’s foot, and the chuckle that had been bubbling up was quickly transformed into a cough. “Dori, daughter of Kori, at your service,” Dori offered quickly. Ori followed suit at once, and soon, all of the dwarves had introduced themselves.

The lass pointed them in the direction of the dining room, with instructions to make themselves at home, while her brother spluttered indignantly behind her shoulder. “Really, Bilbo, you’re being silly,” she hissed between the clenched teeth of her smile as the dwarves trooped by. Miss Baggins caught the wizard’s arm near the end of the line, and her brother followed them all down the hall, still grumbling to himself.

Dori’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the single gold coin that passed from Bofur’s hand to Nori’s as they moved around a bend in the corridor. Dori shook her head and decided to hang back and straighten the entryway. A few of the dwarves - and Dori was proud to say that both her sisters were among them - had managed to get their cloaks and scarves onto the numerous pegs by the door, but most seemed to have just tossed them in that general direction and hoped for the best. Really, it was a wonder no one had tripped on their way through.

The cloaks all straightened and hanging, Dori turned her attention to the luggage scattered all over the floor. They’d left the bulk of their supplies with the ponies in Bywater, but thirteen dwarves’ necessaries still made for a great deal of clutter. She had half a mind to snag one of the others to help her, but when the next three to pass through the hall bearing furniture were Dwalin, Kili, and deaf old Oin, she decided she’d be better off handling the matter herself.

“You don’t have to do that,” said a soft voice.

Dori whirled with a boot in hand and gasped out something less than polite, caught unawares by Miss Baggins’ return. She winced at her exclamation, but the lass had just scared her half to death, so perhaps she would excuse her language.

Miss Baggins smiled a little ruefully at having startled her. “I’m sorry. But you don’t have to do all that, you know.”

Dori smiled back and returned to her search for the boot’s mate. Judging by the smell, it was Kili’s, which meant the missing one could be literally anywhere. “Don’t worry,” she answered breezily. “I’m no victim. I’ll pick up now, but rest assured, the lads will get an earful about it later. They should know better than this.”

“But you’re a guest,” Miss Baggins insisted, kneeling down to pair off boots alongside Dori. “My mother didn’t raise me to make dinner guests work for their meal.”

“Come now,” Dori chided gently, giving up on finding Kili’s other boot for the time being. It’d turn up sooner or later, and if not, he’d go barefoot for a few miles and learn to keep better track of his things. “Judging by your brother’s reaction to our arrival, I would have to guess that this is something of an unexpected party. Besides, I wouldn’t imagine that we are exactly the sort of dinner guests your mother raised you to entertain.”

The hobbit shook her head with a tinkling laugh. “You’d be surprised! Though, I must confess, when I invited Fili and Kili to have supper while they waited for the rest of the company, I hadn’t exactly bargained on their company being quite so large!”

Dori joined her host’s laughter. “It would be just like those two to let something like that ‘slip.’ They’re probably having a good laugh over it now.”

“As are we, it would seem.”

Dori agreed, but Mr Baggins, having recovered from the initial shock of the dwarves’ arrival, seemed to be of a different mind on the matter. He stormed into the hall on Bifur’s heels. “Those are my plates! Excuse me! Not my wine!” He paused further down the hall as he tried to divert the current of dwarves bearing items into the dining room. He aimed an exasperated glare at his sister as he shoved at Bofur. “Put that back! Put it back!” He stood on tiptoe to wave at Gloin, who was just coming out of the pantry. “Not the jam, please!” Gloin ignored him and pushed by, but Mr Baggins had already spotted another offender and begun elbowing his way toward the pantry, like a salmon swimming upstream.

“Is your brother quite alright?”

Miss Baggins laughed as Bombur waddled out of the pantry under the weight of three entire wheels of cheese, and all her brother could think to do about it was inquire about which utensil he was planning to use on them. “I think it’s good for him,” she said finally, as he straightened his suspenders and looked unduly pleased with himself at his handling of the matter.

“Pardon me,” Oin growled as he stomped past them with a rickety-looking chair in his arms.

“Oh, dear.”

“What is it?” Dori asked, concerned.

“That’s Grandpa Mungo’s chair,” Miss Baggins answered, pushing the satchel she was holding into Dori’s hands and beginning to follow Oin. “I doubt if Bilbo —”

Bilbo didn’t. “That’s antique — not for sitting on!”

She sighed as he sent Oin back the way he’d come. She stopped the elderly dwarf before he could take the chair back. “It’s alright,” she said loudly, obviously having spotted his ear trumpet. “Just take it through here.” She directed Oin through a side door into the parlor. “The dining room is just on the other side of the kitchen. Just take care when you sit down the first time. It’s a bit creaky, but if it doesn’t drop you right away, you should be fine.”

“Thank ye, lass.”

Once Oin was gone, Miss Baggins leaned against the door frame with her eyes closed and pinched the bridge of her nose, as if she had a headache coming on. Given the chaos that had suddenly invaded her home, Dori couldn’t blame her. “Really,” the hobbit demanded of no one in particular, “what else is everyone supposed to sit on, if not the chairs?”

“I really am willing to help, Miss Baggins,” Dori offered. “Only direct me to where I can be of the most use.”

“Just Bella,” she answered, cracking one eye open. She appeared torn between propriety and a desire to have an ally in this mad dinner party fiasco. Then, from further in the smial, Mr Baggins began shouting something about a map, and Bella’s mind was made up. “Could you perhaps make sure everyone has drinks, at least?”

Dori bowed. “Of course, Bella.”

Bilbo shouted something else, and a very disgruntled Nori slunk out of the dining room with Bofur in tow, the miner initiating a tug-of-war with a string of sausages in an obvious bid to cheer her up.

Bella closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then another. “There’s wine and ale in the cellar, through the pantry, and cups over the sink in the kitchen. I’d expect Gandalf remembers where everything is, if you have any questions.”

“Where are you going?” Dori asked, as Bella started off in the direction of the dining room.

“I’m going to see if I can find a cupboard big enough to hold my brother, before he gets himself killed.”

“No one here would harm our host,” Dori hastened to assure her. “We have better manners than that, at least.”

“You might, but I’m not sure I do,” Bella replied with a crooked grin. “Perhaps the wardrobe in the front bedroom….”

#HobbitGemini #the hobbit #my writing #hobbit fic #bilbo #gandalf #ori #dori #nori #bifur #bofur #bombur #oin #gloin #fili #kili #thorin #balin #dwalin

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