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fizzyxcustard · 3 years ago

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Touch Starved

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warning: Fluff, smutty undertones, sexual inexperience, insecurity

Summary: You and Thorin are awake one night and things take a rather intense turn. You find out that Thorin has never been touched by a woman, or indeed someone he loves. Being so touch-starved means that Thorin is full of doubt and insecurity.

Notes & Comments: As always, if you wish to be added or removed from my tag list, please let me know. This is just a quick piece that I needed to get out of my system before it consumed me.

Now that you were in Lake-town, on the very brink of success or failure, you wanted to let Thorin know in some way that you would do everything in your power to help him to the end. Thorin Oakenshield had become intwined in your heart, nestling deep inside. You no longer feared his outbursts or even felt anxious when in his presence. He made you serene somehow, as though your soul could rest when with him.

The Master of Lake-town had accepted you all with welcome arms, and you had grimaced at the slimy bastard's charming words. The man made your skin crawl, along with his aide, Alfrid. As soon as the younger man of the two had clapped eyes on you, he grinned, showing off big yellow teeth that made your stomach churn.

It was quiet now. The Dwarves had been celebrating, downing plenty of alcohol. The last you had noticed was Bofur asleep under the table and Bombur asleep on the toilet, still holding a bottle of ale, half full.

You stepped out into the cold air, pulling your clothing in around yourself tight.

"It is late," a familiar voice came.

Thorin stepped up behind you, and then placed his hands on the wooden rail of the balcony which gave a view of the row of houses opposite and some of the town further back. Large strips of ice had formed on the water and little flurries of snow were dancing on the early winter breeze.

You could see much in Thorin's expression: apprehension, worry and perseverance. Nothing would stop him getting to the mountain; his birthright was waiting in the form of a crown, but what price was he prepared to pay?

Without a further thought, you placed your hand on Thorin's. You wanted him to know that you were just as dedicated to him as those Dwarves sleeping in Bard's house.

In that moment, you felt Thorin's hand jolt ever so slightly. But he did not move it away. Instead, his eyes remained locked on your hand, and slowly you rubbed his hand with your thumb. Thorin gasped, only slightly, but it was enough for you to hear him.

You whispered his name.

His eyes met yours, finally. Those beautiful blue eyes that you knew you were madly in love with. He seemed unsure, embarrassed. A flush had risen on his cheeks. He swallowed hard and then averted his gaze back to your touching hands.

You were well aware that Thorin didn't have a wife. But surely he had lain with women. Such a beautiful man would have had women swarming around him. Everything about Thorin made you weak, and instantly recognise that you were so helplessly in love with him.

And then your own insecurity took hold. "I'm sorry," you said, pulling your hand away. "It was improper of me to do that..."

"Touch me again," he asked, his voice deep with something that you hadn't heard from him before. The edge of his voice was tinged with just the faintest touch of what you felt to be lust.

Then as your hand reached for his, you could see the sheer anticipation in his face. You stopped.

"Please," he whispered.

"Have you been touched by a woman before?" you asked. It was the underlying question that you needed to ask, and an answer you were desperate to know.

"I am ashamed of the answer, but, no."

That feeling which you had had since your first accidental touch was confirmed. It left you speechless, saddened by such an honest admission.

With a sudden surge in confidence, you picked up his hand and held his palm against your own. The heat and the electricity was so palpable between you both. It made shivers of anticipation shoot up your spine. Then you laced your fingers between his, drawing your two hands together as one.

Thorin couldn't help but gasp again, and then close his eyes. Being a Dwarf meant that tactile sensations were always intense, and being physically connected with someone he loved so ardently meant that he was so full to the brim with joy.

You remained a little shocked by Thorin's response to your touch, but continued on, taking the lead. You leaned your head to him and placed your lips against his cheek, and kissed softly. You were greeted with a soft moan and exhale.

Thorin opened his eyes and caught your gaze against his. You smelled divine. Despite having travelled so far with little to no sanitation, he could still smell something sweet on your skin.

You kissed him again and again, peppering his cheeks and nose. Until you came to his lips, slightly hidden under a well-trimmed beard. That was when you felt his all encompassing self-control break. You kissed hard, and Thorin's arms wound around you, drawing him flush against you.

Within seconds, and you both became utterly breathless.

Thorin's beard tickled against your lips and his tongue meshed against yours. The two of you seemed to meld into one, your forms curving against each other.

You wound your hands in his hair and that made him groan even louder and in response, his hand cupped your breast. This made you press even tighter against him. And then his lips slipped down your neck, kissing and licking at your bare neck. "My love," he gasped, having lost his breath in the turbulence of your passion.

His hands wanted more. He needed more contact with you. The tips of his fingers pushed inside the small hole between the buttons of your shirt, trying to get at your breasts.

You could feel Thorin's arousal for you, hard against your hip. And it heightened your own sensations and the pulsing got more intense between your legs, thumping in time with your rapid heartbeat.

"I need you," Thorin groaned. He pressed his forehead to yours, a sign of deep connection within the Dwarf race, of which you recognised.

"I love you," you said softly.

Thorin smiled. "Let's get you inside, my queen."

Those words made your whole inner being scream in utter joy. Was this all really happening?

The house was quiet, and the two of you crept through into the back room where you had prepared a bed roll. Thorin still had his hand in yours, not able to yet let you go. He wanted to always be connected to you, skin against skin.

Before sleep took you that evening, Thorin spooned against you, holding you. He kissed along the base of your neck, and then pressed his long nose against your shoulder, smelling you. He told you, as you slipped to the edge of a dream, "sleep well, my love. For tomorrow may not see such peace."

***

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#the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #fic #thorin #thorin oakenshield #thorin x you #thorin x reader #thorin x fem!reader #thorin Oakenshield x you #thorin Oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x fem!reader

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ichoosechoasandbeingqueer · 2 years ago

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With the exception of AO3 under the username IChooseChaos

All my writings have warnings on them for what will be involved in that particular fic. If you come across something you don’t like or find upsetting/triggering DO NOT READ. It is not my responsibility to keep you in check. You have been warned.

If you feel inspired by my stories/art/ocs and would like to create your own art/stories/ocs/playlists, this is permission to do so and absolutely tag me to see! THIS DOES NOT INCLUDE USING AI.

Also, if you want to send in asks games, questions about fics/ocs absolutely do so!

WIP Folder - Just a folder to keep my Wips tidy

A Hobbit In Erebor - cozy comfort game

First look -opening/loading page

Fili Durin

Of Lions, Doves and Kings - Fili and his partner play out a fantasy that they both find irresistible. For the Deano Bingo Event 2023

(ASK REQUEST) Trees and confessions - Also contains Thorin, Dwalin, Reader falls from a tree and is caught by her favorite dwarf princess style

Fili 2022 whumptober Masterlist- 31 stories in 31 days of Fili whump and comfort

(ASK REQUEST) Weapon headcannons -

(ASK REQUEST) Fili Associated Songs -

Fili Durin x Narni - Flames of the forge series Bold - Fili and Narni meet at the princes’ one hundredth birthday when she presents to him a controversial gift

Kili Durin

(ASK REQUEST) Weapon headcannons -

Thorin Oakensheild Durin

(ASK REQUEST) Trees and confessions - Also contains Dwalin, Fili Reader falls from a tree and is caught by her favorite dwarf princess style

(ASK REQUEST) Weapon headcannons -

Dwalin Fundersin

(ASK REQUEST) Trees and confessions - Also contains Thorin, Fili Reader falls from a tree and is caught by her favorite dwarf princess style

(ASK REQUEST) Always There - Dwalins feeling for the shy hobbit lass that always seems to be by his side

(ASK REQUEST) Weapon headcannons -

Anders Johnson

My Fish Dawn! My Fish- Anders drunkenly calls Dawn over and she tucks him into bed. For Deano Bingo 2023

Ryder Harrison

Under New Management- (Part 1), (Part 2), (Part 3),Ryder wants to finally be on top in Vegas, and a deal with a wolf will get him just that.

Check out my post here

Durin Assassin AU -Under Contract -Be it money, booze, a territory dispute or a love affair gone wrong, in this futuristic cyberpunk cityscape enemies are easily made. And if you know the right crowd, they're just as easily removed.

The Fic -Not Yet Published

First look

Inspired playlist

Fili Burlesque Dancer AU -The Burlesque Lion -Beloved prince by day and beloved sex icon by night, Fili must find a balance between his royal duties to the king, his newfound feelings for his friend, all while keeping his identity as the burlesque lion hidden.

The Fic- Not Yet Published

Inspired playlist

Deano Bingo art

Disowned Fili AU -The Darker Generation - "How does an abused and disowned prince reclaim his name and his homelands from a dragon? With a group of ruthless youth and another dragon of course."

The Fic- Not Yet Published

2024 @sweetspicybingo entry -NSFW Lillith art

Inspired Playlists

High Priest Fili AU -My Goddess -In a world where Fili makes a deal with a powerful but long forgotten deity, he becomes high priest and worshiper of the goddess of chaos, lust and battle rage.

The Fic ‘My Goddess’ (3/?) -

Commissioned art piece

Inspired playlist

My personal library -My personal library where you can find all my favourite fics NOT written by me!

banners by @cafekitsune @inklore @vase-of-lilies

Hello everyone! My name is Chaos! You can find me on Tumblr (IChooseChoasAndBeingQueer) AO3 and Discord (IChooseChaos). I'm a writer and artist that works full time, and creates in their spare time so updates can be very slow at times. I'm aro ace, use any pronouns and love fantasy. I'm a fish parent, love to garden and help restore wildlife and am a little bit goth.

Thank you so much for spending the time to read and view my stories and art.

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supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years ago

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Pregnancy

Pairings: Pero Tovar x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit mentions of pregnancy, possessiveness.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Pero was always a man who couldn’t keep his hands off you, well once you broke through his grumpy facade. It started with him brushing his hand against you while helping set up camp, or your thighs touching when you sat beside each other. When you became lovers, he would rub between your legs as you ate, William sat across from you none the wiser. In bed his hands wandered all over your naked form, pinching an grabbing.

You’d been wed over a year now and he made no attempt to hide the fact he wanted you with child. He’d put off selling his sword for a while, determined in his quest to get you pregnant. Sure enough his diligence paid off and you are now five months along. Your bump has popped and it noticeable beneath your dress, something which Pero is very pleased about.

“Now mi amor, when those idiotas see you, they will know you are mine.”

Pero had gone on a hunt with William and a few others from the village leaving you at home to tend the garden. You were outside planting carrots and herbs when you hear the distant sound of hooves. Standing up and wiping the sweat from your brow you look to see Pero galloping over the hill towards home. When he sees you, all swollen with his babe, he feels something primal in him call to you. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life and he moves the horse as fast as he can to get to you.

He dismounts and ties him up before stalking towards you and grabbing the back of your head pulling you into a heated kiss.

“Need you now mi esposa.”

He carries you inside and lays you back on the bed he made for you. He rips your clothes from your body, quickly shedding his own. He spreads your legs and buries his face in your curls. He devours you, licking between your folds and sucking on your clit. He has you a writhing mess beneath him, your hand grabbing onto the sheet as you try to anchor yourself. You arch your back as you come hard all over his face.

“You taste so good mi amor, it is because you are carrying my babe no.”

Your too blissed out to answer him, simply nodding at him. He rests back on the bed and grabs you by the waist so that your straddling him. His eyes are blown wide with lust, that caramel brown now black as he looks over your form.

“You look so beautiful mi amor. So full and round with my babe…ugh….need you.” He thrust up and his erection pokes at your entrance. Lining him up you sink down slowly and he groans as you engulf him into your heat. You rock your hips against him, moving up and down his length, your hands resting on his chest for purchase.

“Mierda! Hermosa I want to have you full with my babe always….ugh…..look so good. Round and swollen and….mine!”

You moan out as his words send you spiralling. You come with a cry of his name on your lips and the feel of your tight walls convulsing over his cock send him over the edge. He spills inside you, pulling you down into a searing kiss. You move off him and roll onto the bed beside him, your fingers running over his chest.

“You weren’t serious about me always being with child were you?”

He has a sly smirk on his face and his eyebrow quirks.

“Deadly!”

Permanent tag list: @lunaserenade @anaaaispunk @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @alberta-sunrise @dihra-vesa @pintsizemama @athalien @loserrlauraa @kirsteng42 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @pascalisthepunkest @dindjarinneedsahug @almaeunice @jediknight122 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @colorlesswhispersunknown @stevie75 @rosie-posie08 @jediknight123 @hauntedmama @greeneyedblondie44 @prettylilhalforc @giselatropicana @the-mandalorian-066 @spanishmossmagnolia @phoenixhalliwell @sherala007 @its--fandom--darling @donnaa @javierpinme @luxmundee @littlemisspascal @hayley-the-comet @ezras-channel-rat @heartofjakku @tintinn16 @amneris21 @avengers-fixation @drinkingwhileblogging @evyiione @goddessofsprings @mylovelycomandante @pastatomata @pjkimrn @1#FreakShow @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @paintballkid711 @hocuschlocus @allthe-ships @thewintersoldierswife

#pedro pascal #pero x fem!reader #pero tovar x female reader #pero tovar x fem!reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

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erosofthepen · 3 years ago

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Letters From Amad pt.2

After about five months of not knowing how to continue it, i have finished part 2!! There will be a third part, not nearly as long, and i already have most of it written, so it should be out a lot sooner lol. BUT, i hope you enjoy it, and thanks for putting up with me lol.

-Part 1

-Words: 4,898

-Warnings: blizzard/storm, injury, hypothermia, some swearing

-Tags: @grunid, @elvish-sky, @sassyscribbler, @whore4fictionalhoes11, @smaugs-guardian, @bitter-sweet-farmgirl, @jotink78, @marvel-ous-hobbit, @anjhope1, (if i forgot you, im sorry, i have trouble keeping track sometimes)

It was moments like this that reflected Thorin’s terrible decision making. In actuality, his decision to not put anymore lives at risk was very wise. But still, it was Fili who was out there. And Kili. And since Thorin would not send a search party out, it was time to take matters into your own hands.

First things first, you went back to your chambers and put on your warmest, fluffiest, most wind-resistant coat. Rabbit fur covered the insides (the hides were hunted and tanned by Fili, a courting gift to you), and thick leather made up the outside, keeping the cold out and the warmth in. Next, you pulled on your winter boots (you had actually just had them made last week, and there were three little pockets perfect for concealing knives in), as well as a hat, gloves, and a scarf, all knitted by Ori, his way to show gratitude after your help in the libraries. You then proceeded to gather up some salted meat and cram, walk down to the entrance of the mountain, and enter the stables.

You choose a faithful companion to keep you company, namely, Daisy. The Mare had a thick wooly mane, and an extreme proclivity towards sweets. This was not to be your first venture with the pony, and now you knew better to bring him anywhere within five leagues of a bakery. You had not been amused when he had eaten an entire box of pastries meant for you and the scholars, though Kili and Fili had thought it to be the most hilarious of stories. However, despite his tendency to devour pastries, Daisy was reliable and resilient, and you hardly rode any other steed.

Several stableboys tried to dissuade you from leaving in the storm, but you brushed off their remarks as you tacked up Daisy. Thankfully, they didn’t try to block your path as you left, though they did warn you to be careful. You weren’t too concerned, for the storm had grown tamer in the day, and the frost was not biting your face. Yet, that is.

You reached Dale in about an hour. It took much longer than expected, with Daisy being nearly up to his belly in the fallen snow. Dale was practically devoid of men and women, most of them having the brains to stay inside during the storm. The only exceptions were some watchmen and one or two passersby.

“Oi, it’s a bit too cold for a morning ride lady, have you lost all sense?” A guard asked as you were leaving the gate on the other side of town.

“No my good fellow, I'm just looking for my friends. Have you seen two dwarrow come this way?”

“Can’t say that I have, but Maurice said he saw a pair last night, a few hours before the snow started.”

“Did Maurice mention where they were headed?”

“To the caravan, where else? It’s about fifteen miles from here, I would guess. You’re not considering going out there, are you?”

“I’m afraid that I must. Good day to you sir,”

“And a very cold day to you, lassie. Best of travels.”

“And to you as well.”

You quickly left and mentally cursed yourself for wishing him best of travels in return. He wasn’t traveling, you idiot!

The embarrassment faded as the wind began to pick up. The blizzard was steadily getting thicker, the puffy snowflakes turning more compact and icy. The city of Dale had long disappeared behind you in the snow, and you could only hope you were headed in the right direction.

However adventurous and bold it sounds, riding bare-back on a pony in the middle of a freezing cold snow storm was not at all an easy task. Your scarf had been moved to cover most of your face, and your hood was tied tightly ‘round your head, yet the flakes still stung your flesh. You were definitely starting to rethink your whole “making sure the brothers were alright in a storm idea.” Especially since it was pointless to look for them in between the caravan and Dale, as you couldn’t even see ten feet in front of you. Your goal now was to simply make it to the caravan without frostbite.

Around noon, you tried eating a bit of the bread you had packed, only to find it frozen. As well as the cheese. And the dried meat. It wouldn’t do good to gnaw on it either, as that would just make your innards cold as well, so you just went with your stomach protesting.

It was starting to get quite dark when you finally saw what seemed to be a glow in the distance. As you drew closer, it grew apparent that it was the caravan, and you sighed in great relief.

The dwarrow on watch were very suspicious. Of course, once you explained your purpose, they grew less so.

“I come from Erebor, in search of the Princes. Prince Fili and Kili left last night with the intention to travel here, have they arrived?”

The guards started to look a bit nervous.

“No my lady, no one’s seen anything of them.”

Your heart dropped to your feet.

“Are you sure?”

“Aye, the whole group would have known.”

You might’ve cried, but your eyes felt nearly frozen. You turned your pony, with full intent to head back out into the blizzard and look for your love, when one of the watchdwarrow stopped you.

“You’ll freeze out there my lady, as will your pony. Stay and get warm.”

“Aye lass” another said, “Besides, if the Prince’s are out there, her Lady Dís should be informed.”

Ah, that’s right. Dís.

One of the guards led Daisy off to get warm with other animals, while the other led you to Her Ladyship’s tent. He announced your presence, awaited approval, and then lifted the flap of the tent, beckoning you inside before letting it fall behind you.

Dís was a truly stunning Dwarrow, even for her age, with long black raven hair and a beard to match. Some strands were turning silver, much like Thorin’s, and her blue eyes were more piercing than an orc’s. She looked incredibly confused when you walked into her tent.

“Good Mahal lass, what the hell were you doing out in that storm? You must be senseless.” She said, looking up from a book she had been reading and furrowing her brows.

“I was looking for the Prince’s. I should introduce myself, my name is (Y/N).”

Dís’s eyes widened and she stood, showing off quite an impressive height.

“Why would you be looking for my sons out in this storm, (Y/N)?”

“They… Fili left a note this morning, he and Kili were coming to the caravan to see you. The watchdwarrow said they hadn’t arrived.”

The Dwarrowdams jaw went slack for a moment, and then she cursed, banging her hand on a small table that held a bottle of whiskey.

“Foolish boys! Have they no sense? I was to be seeing them in only a few more days, but they could not wait, could they? Och, the beasts!” Dís continued her rant for a while longer, before she turned her gaze back on you.

“And you journeyed out here in the storm?”

“Aye. I could not rest well knowing that they were out in this foul weather. I will be going to head back out to look for them as soon as I’ve warmed up a bit,” you replied, very conscious of the Mother’s piercing stare. She was quiet, until she breathed a worried sigh.

“It’s no use to search out in this weather, lass. Especially at night. Rest here with me, we’ll go searching first thing on the morrow. I must talk with the guards for now, make yourself comfortable, I will return soon.”

And, just like that, Dís left the tent. Her talk was brief, and left you standing dumb in the center of the tent. For some time, you debated on whether or not to go out searching anyways, but the fire was surely inviting, and something in you knew Dís wouldn’t take kindly to you leaving against her wishes.

Your travel bag, heavy and frozen from being exposed to the elements for so long, left your shoulders as you set it down by the entrance. Next came your gloves, and then the outer coat, snow and ice caked on it making your fingers fumble whilst trying to unbutton it. Eventually, it joined your bag, as well as your boots (if you had thought the coat was difficult to get off, the frozen buckles on your boots were torture). After you had stripped the burdensome clothing off, you simply stood in the center of the room, close to the fire. There were blankets nearby, piled near a bedroll, but you dared not touch them, seeing as they belonged to Dís. It was rather awkward, simply sitting in a stranger's (of sorts) quarters, and weren’t sure what to do.

Your eyes did some exploring for you, falling first on the book that Dís had been reading. ‘The Heart of Hrund’. Huh. You recognized the title, from the Great Library, but you knew very little about it. You’d have to read it now. Your eyes then fell to the whiskey bottle. ‘Breaker’s’. Ah. Memories you shared with Kili at the beginning of the journey returned, however hazed they were due to your drunken state. Strong stuff, Breaker’s was. Bofur managed to get his hands on a few bottles from a merchant, and you and Kili had stolen one from him, much to Thorin’s disappointment and Fili’s annoyance (he was upset to be left out of the fun). Your eyes then drifted to a leather-fitted box, beautiful khuzdul runes and designs etched into it, however, before you could get a closer look, footsteps crunched through the snow outside the tent.

Dís and a young dwarrow entered, carrying stew, bread, and a plethora of blankets and pillows.

“Mahal,” Dís started, placing the tray of food down on the little table and grabbing a quilt from the other dwarrow, “Have you just been sitting here freezing? You could have taken a blanket, you know.” She said, wrapping the quilt around your shoulders and moving you to sit down.

“I, er, I didn't want to be rude.” You replied, now sitting cross-legged on the floor. Dís screwed her face at you.

“Lass, it is never considered rude to take a blanket in the cold. Only exception is if someone is already using it.”

You didn’t reply, feeling very uncomfortable social-wise, despite finally starting to warm up physically. Dís grabbed the rest of the supplies from the other dwarrow and nodded at him to leave. As he left the tent, Dís set the other blankets down and started making a bedspace for you near the fire.

“I can help with that,” you said, starting to get up to help.

“Nonsense lass, you get yourself warm.” Dis stood and grabbed the food tray once more. “However, I do request that you eat.” she set the tray down in front of you, and you thanked her, feeling a bit guilty as you started on the stew.

“Uh, have you eaten yet, My Lady?”

Dís scoffed, resuming her work on your bed roll. “Don’t call me that child, call me Amad. I can hardly stand to be addressed in that way by servants, let alone my sons One. But yes, I’ve had my fill.”

Her words shocked you, having only ever heard Fili refer to you as his One. You hardly expected Dís to accept you as Fili’s lover, let alone his One.

“Alright.” You replied, once more feeling dumb and without anything to contribute. So you sat in silence, trying hard not to slurp and watching Dís make up your bed. Eventually, She moved up and away, surveying her work.

“Thank you, that was very kind.” you said. Dís sighed and nodded, sitting down on the other side of the fire. You were quiet once more, and were now re-considering going out to search for Fili and Kili, if only to avoid the discomfort of the situation.

“I hope you are only not talking because of the storm. I expected a much more chatty lass, if i’m being honest.” Dís remarked, eyeing you carefully.

Panic flashed through your eyes as you tried to think of something to say, but Dís let out a soft chuckle before you could make a fool of yourself.

“I’m only joking, child. You needn't be nervous here. Tell me, how was your journey from the mountain to here?”

“Cold,” You blurted out, shuddering as you imagined the wind biting your face. Dís smiled at your bluntness.

“Indeed, I imagine it would be, especially if you’ve been out all day. Tell me, was there any sign of them as you came over?”

You shook your head. “Unfortunately no, I could hardly see past my nose once the snow grew thicker.”

“I swear, those boys will be the death of me,” she muttered.

“Just be glad you weren’t Thorin trying to deal with all three of us,” you said without thinking. Dís locked eyes with you, and then started chuckling.

“I do not envy him, based on what I've read of you three. It seems that you made it your entire purpose to create trouble for my brother dear.”

“Well, we tried to. For the first half of the journey, at least. He was much more willing to withstand our meddling before we crossed the Misty Mountains. Then came the orcs, and goblins, and Mirkwood, Laketown, the dragon… and the battle too.” Your face had fallen whilst you spoke, and Dis reached out her hand to comfort you.

“You mustn't dwell on the hardships of the past, child. It does nothing but cause trouble for the mind. Believe me, I know.”

At that moment, Dís seemed to age very quickly, and the wisdom and experience that this dwarrowdam had became clearer. You knew her story well-enough, from nights Fili had needed to find comfort in you, telling you about his childhood and family. Dís had wed Víli Heptifilissøn, and twelve years after Kili had been born, he had fallen ill from the Black Lung*, and had spent months growing weaker and weaker until he perished. Fili was able to remember the wretched coughing, and his Adad’s ragged breaths, as clearly as the day it happened. It was the reason he refused to go deep into coal mines, or else made up excuses. If those memories still hung onto Fili, you could only imagine how horrible it must have been for Dís, who had to watch her husband suffer such a death. Looking at her now, you never felt more in awe of a single person.

“You speak truly, my Lady-”

She looked at you sharply, but with a twinkle in her eyes.

“-I mean, Amad.”

That satisfied her, and she relaxed her hand away. “I do indeed, child. Never has a lie crossed my lips. Except when I told Thorin that he had a mighty spider in his beard.” You chuckled at that, but it quickly turned to a yawn. Dís raised a brow.

“It’s time for sleep then,” she commented, “I’ll leave you in peace to finish eating, and then it’s straight to bed.” Dís stood and went back to her chair, and resumed her book, leaving you to scoop that last of the stew in your mouth. It was not long before you were warm and cozy in your makeshift bed, and Dís bid you goodnight before blowing out the lanterns.

You woke to shouting. In your groggy state, you couldn’t make out the words, and you blinked in the dim light of the fire.

“What new madness arises?” You heard Dís murmur, followed by the sounds of her fumbling about. The shouting grew nearer. “Are you awake, (Y/N)?”

“Only partly,” you replied, trying to untangle the covers from your legs. You shuddered as the extra warmth left, but hurried to your feet, only stumbling slightly. The noise was becoming considerably louder, and your ears could start to make out the words being yelled.

“Get a healer, lads!”

“He looks frozen stiff!”

“SHOVE OFF! WHERE IS AMAD?” Kili’s furious shout snapped you into alertness. At that moment, Dís was able to find a lantern, and finally the tent’s interior was more visible. The flap in front of the tent lifted, and Kili stumbled in, hair frozen with bits of ice and face bright red. With horror, you realized he was supporting another dwarf who was barely conscious. Fili.

You jumped to your feet and rushed towards your betrothed, supporting his other side and lifting his head. Fili’s lips were tinged blue, and his teeth were chattering bitterly, clacking together in a terrible rhythm. Dís was there not a second after you, and she helped guide you all to lay Fili down in the space you had slept just moments before.

“Strip him down,” Dís commanded, starting to work on his boots. You followed her orders without hesitation, helping Kili with Fee’s coat. It didn’t take too long for the three of you to undress him to his underclothes, and you winced when you saw his shoulder looked… definitely not normal. Dís pressed on it gently, and Fili made a weak groan that twisted at your heart.

“He fell off his pony,” Kili said.

“Of course he did. Kili, fetch a healer.” The younger prince sprang up, filled with energy even after being out in a blizzard for nearly an entire day. But he was hardly at the entrance when a grizzled old dwarrow entered, a satchel in hand and a hard look set in his features.

‘‘Hanarr,” Dís welcomed, nodding her head. The old dwarf grunted in acknowledgement before kneeling down by Fili’s shoulder, feeling along the bone. He grunted once more, before looking up at Kili.

“Hold down right here lad,” Hanarr instructed, moving Kili’s hands to rest on Fili’s other shoulder and chest. “Right, hold it firm.”

Hanarr outstretched Fili’s other arm, and began to move it towards his head. A click sounded, and Fili called out, however weakly. His shoulder looked back to normal again, and Hanarr quickly folded his arm against his chest, before searching through his medical pack and pulling out a sling.

“Sit him up, lad.” the healer instructed Kili. He propped Fili up against his side, and this time, Fili held his own head up, his gaze landing on you. Confusion flitted across his nearly-frostbitten features, and he mumbled your name despite of his state.

But Hanarr was upon him again, and soon the sling was fastened to his arm, and the Healer was moving his legs so that they were tucked against his chest. He addressed Kili once more, “Get rid of yer tunic, and stay close to yer brother” and then turned towards you, “do the same, but mind his shoulder lassie.” Without hesitation, you followed his command and soon Fili was sandwiched between yourself and Kili. Dís (with the permission of Hanarr), wrapped several blankets around the three of you, and soon set to work on making some tea. Hanarr presented her with a root of ginger, and, after seeing that all that could be done was done, decided to take his leave.

“He should be fine in a few hours, I'll come back to check on him soon. Keep him awake.” were his final words before departing.

The silence that followed his departure was intense, interrupted only by the sound of the fire, the kettle, and a knife. Dís was the first to speak.

“I would have your hides, if I was not so glad to see you again.” She said in a low voice as she shredded the ginger.

“I’m sorry Amad,” Kili said, eyeing the movement of his Amad’s knife, “Patience has never been my strong suit.” Beside you, Fili shifted and rested his forehead against your temple.

“Indeed not,” Dís replied, her voice heating like the water she was boiling, “How did you convince your brother to join you in this endeavor?” Fili moved again, this time nuzzling his face into your neck and hair, his nose startlingly cold.

“Who said it was my idea?” Kili argued. However, Dís turned her glare on him, and He flushed and murmured, “he wanted to see you too, it didn’t take much to convince him.”

“(Y/N)” Fili said, drawing the attention away from arguing. “ ‘m tired.” He let his head rest heavy against your shoulder, and you (reluctantly) moved him away.

“You must wait to sleep, Kidhuzel,” You said, bringing your hand up to brush his hair away from his face. He opened his eyes wider, in sheer betrayal. You could have smiled, knowing Fili’s tendency to become unreasonably cross when denied sleep, but instead you kissed his cheek.

“Your Amad is making tea for you, and when you drink it, you’ll warm right up.” The blond prince’s eyes dropped once more and he tried moving back to the crook of your neck, only to be refused a second time.

“ I’d prefer Ale,” He muttered bitterly. At this, you did allow yourself to smile.

“Not a chance. Your heart might stop.” He grumbled and detached his uninjured arm from Kili, taking your hand and squeezing it with what feeble strength that had returned to his veins.

“It won’ stop as long as you’re ‘ere.”

Kili snorted, but was silenced as Dís sent him another glare, and you laughed softly, shaking your head and squeezing his hand back.

“If it worked that way, then I would gladly give you the finest Ale, however, I do believe tea would be a better option.”

When the tea was ready, you helped Fili to drink it. At first, the prince had winced at the heat, but soon he drank it gladly, becoming more alive with each sip. You sensed Dís watching you and Fili carefully, but brushed it off, telling yourself she was only concerned for Fili, not observing how you interacted. A small part of you that wouldn’t be silenced said it was both. Soon the mug was empty, and it had apparently helped Fili along much more than you anticipated, and soon he had detached himself completely from his brother and was pulling you closer.

“Careful of your shoulder,” you reminded him.

“ ‘s fine.” He replied, pressing flush against you. His skin had already warmed, thus proving the hardiness and hot blood of dwarrow. Kili scooted away, seeing that he was no longer needed, readjusted the furs covering yourself and his brother, and pulled his tunic back on. Dís immediately walked over and threw another fur across his shoulders, and pulled him into a tight hug, which he returned just as tightly. You averted your eyes when Kili started to sniff and tremble.

“I missed you,” he said.

“And I as well, inùdoy” Mother and son stayed in once another’s embrace, until she drew away and made him drink his fill of ginger tea as well.

A half hour later, you were struggling to keep Fili’s eyes open, and Kili had already crashed on Dís’s bedroll. The dwarrowdam herself grew impatient for Hanarr’s return, and had gone out searching for him. She reentered the tent with him not ten minutes later, and Hanarr (as grumpy and irritable as he was, he was an excellent healer), inspected Fili. Truly, your prince was proof that dwarves were nothing more than portable furnaces, and his temperature was more or less back to normal. He still was a bit out of it, but it was nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix. Soon Hanarr declared that it was safe for Fili to sleep, and almost immediately, the blond sank into your bedroll and began to snore.

Diís left after Hanarr, telling you to rest and call her if need be. You didn’t question where she was going, and she did not share it with you.

However tired and exhausted you were, sleep would not come. You sat in front of the fire for hours, feeding it and stoking it, keeping your mind entertained with the images dancing in the flames.

You had just finished adding another log to the fire, when a hand lightly gripped your wrist.

“Ghivashel” Fili said faintly. Your head turned towards him, and you smiled despite all things; for while Fili’s face was still red, his hair undone, and his eyes bleary, he was alive and conscious.

“Khuzd allakhul” you scolded, bending down to lean your forehead against his, “What sort of prince are you, to go out in the snow and frighten your lover?” You kissed his lips softly before drawing away just enough to wait for his answer.

“A very foolish prince indeed,” He murmured, his hand on your wrist pulling you back towards him. “But what sort of lover are you, to worry so greatly and come after me in the snow?”

“A very devoted lover, who has half a mind to leave now that you’ve insulted my care of you.” Fili’s eyes widened and he summoned his strength to pull you down, nestled in his side.

“Forgive me, I was not thinking of insulting you, amrâlimê. I just don’t want to see you suffer for my sake. Menu Tessu.” He said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. The beads on his mustache braids still felt frozen, but his lips were warm. You smiled and took his hand, entwining your fingers together.

“All is forgiven. So long as you won’t do anything as stupid as that ever again.” you replied. Fili sighed and kissed the side of your mouth.

“I shall try my very hardest not to.”

“That isn’t very reassuring.”

“Then you must forgive me once more, for I cannot make such bold promises whilst Kili remains my brother.”

You both chuckled at this, before settling into comfortable silence. Slowly, your eyes began to drop, the crackling of the fire and the steady rhythm of Fili’s breath making it harder and harder to evade sleep. The fact that the lion prince had begun to rub circles into your shoulder with his thumb wasn’t helping. After the third time you startled yourself awake, Fili’s voice was near your ear.

“You can sleep now, Amralime. I won’t be going anywhere.”

His words were nothing short of a spell, and in less than a minute, your eyes closed and sleep overtook you, a comforting, dreamless sleep, the best kind.

When next you woke, indeed, Fili was still right next to you, awake, but only just. He was blinking the sleep away, and you suspected that his movements had been what had woken yourself. Cold winter light was shining through the tent flaps, cutting like a blade through the warm glow that filled the inside, and a conversation was taking place.

“We left in the wee hours, m’lady, just before dawn. You can imagine the state Thorin was in when he heard that the entire future of Erebor was out in the snow.” The voice of Dwalin more than successfully brought you to awakeness, and you sat up, looking around for the source of his voice.

“Indeed, I imagine he would be weathering the floors with pacing. I expect we’ll be leaving soon, no?” Now Dís spoke, and by this point, you and Fili had turned behind you to see the pair talking over mugs of mulled wine. Kili was also there, however, he was still dreaming on Dís’s previous sleeping roll, limbs sprawled out wide and mouth hung open almost comically.

“Aye, as soon as these three are dressed and ready.” Dwalin said, turning his gaze onto you and Fili, brow raised and the slightest of smiles on his warrior face. “What a lot of worry you and your brother had us in,” he continued, addressing Fili specifically, “I swear to Mahal, you’ve no idea what sort of panic you caused. Course, when yeh come back with your shoulder like that, everyone’ll be doting on yeh. ‘The poor heir who got caught in a blizzard trying to see his Amad’, not ‘the fucking idiot who didn’t have any patience and went out in the night despite knowing there was a storm brewin’.” But all while saying this, there was humor and relief in the warrior's voice, betraying how glad he felt that the boys were not frozen under three feet of ice and snow.

“Both versions are correct,” Fili pointed out, his voice still croaky from sleep.

“Aye, but only the first version will get told.” Dwalin replied, to which you laughed. He turned his focus to you now. “Don’t think you’re innocent lass, Thorin nearly had a heart-attack when we couldn’t find you. Both the heirs missin’ was bad enough, but the lady who’ll be adding to the heirs disappearing made it all worse.”

“Och, Dwalin, she had a noble cause to come out in the snow, you needn’t blame her for anything.” Dís said, coming to your aid.

“Was our cause not noble and justified?” Kili’s voice piped up. The Prince's eyes were hardly opened, but he was more than ready to defend himself from accusations.

“Not when you were to be seeing me in less than a week. If I was able to refrain myself from going out into a blizzard in the late hours, you should have been able to as well.” Dís retorted. A sour expression crossed Kili’s face, but he dared not argue with his Amad.

“Right then,” Dwalin said, “Get yourselves up an’ ready, we’ve not much daylight left to get back to Erebor.”

*Black Lung: Coal miner’s pneumonia.

Kidhuzel: Gold of Gold

Inùdoy: Son

Ghivashel: Treasure of Treasures

Khuzd allakhul: Stupid Dwarf

Menu Tessu: You mean everything to me

(part three will be out soon)

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lisinfleur · 4 years ago

Text

Blómstur

The request:

Author’s Notes | This was definitely one of the cutest things I ever wrote. Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by @blonddnamedhandz for 5CW Ivar II. Posted for HTGI Event. Title translation: Flower. Words | 1306 ⁑ Warnings: Mentions to labor pains, Ivar’s ableism about his children.

It was what? The fifth one? The sixth if he would count the twins as two. There was Sigtryggr, Ingvar and Ímar - the twins. There was Udir and the little ones Erik and Einar - this last one his major concern since he didn't have left your boobs when Ivar accidentally got you full of his seed once again.

Would he be able to avoid his children from hating each other as Sigurd and he had done for so long?

Another sip of his mead, and, one more time, the cup almost fell from his hand with a growl of pain in your voice coming from the bedroom.

Why did it have to be so loud every single time?

Sigtryggr was taking care of his little brothers for him, outside of the house, to grant none of them would listen to your screams. As the older one, he had already age enough to understand those moments, and he knew how afraid his little brothers could be. He was thinking about getting a wife himself, on top of his fifteen years, and maybe carrying for his little brothers was a good way to learn how to behave when it was the time to see his wife screaming to put his children into Midgard like you were doing for his father's one more time.

Another scream cutting his thoughts.

"Gods..." Ivar mumbled, drinking from his cup one more time. "Why does it have to be so painful?"

Couldn't the gods be merciful about the birth part of that process?

To make the children was something so pleasurable! Why should putting them into this world be that horrible, bloody, and painful way?

You cried once again, louder. And Ivar swore he heard the midwife asking you to be strong and do it one more time.

Fuck that shit! You were the strongest human being he'd ever seen in his life!

Sword wounds? He could handle them.

Burning bleeding wounds with red-hot blades? Easy!

Now passing something as big as his children through a hole where his dick was used to feel tightly compressed? This was something his manly mind wasn't able to figure out how it was possible.

You'd always had long deliveries. His children were painfully big, healthy boys he could call everything but little. Sigtryggr was fifteen, and he was already taller than him! Ivar could bet he would be as tall as Ubbe or maybe Björn! And the twins weren't going through a different way: tall children, all of them! Big babies, all of them!

A new scream cut his ears. Were you giving birth to twins once again?

He got his crutch, forcing himself to stand.

It was taking too long!

Thinking closely, Siggtryggr had taken one day and half of a night. The twins took two days to be born. Erik was the shorter with one whole night. And Einar had taken almost as long as his twin brothers - the lazy thing. This one was approaching the end of its first day, but fuck! It was supposed to be quicker now, wasn't it?

Ivar thought about sitting down once again. What would he do inside that room but bother the women's work? What did he know about labor, to start with?

But what if something was wrong with this baby?

What if it was something wrong like...

Ivar felt startled by his own thoughts. Was it possible that the gods would allow Hel to touch one of his children like she had caressed his legs? After all the others, this one?

His eyes looked at the door, his heart speeding, his breath becoming shorter until everything stopped in his mind.

And around him.

A freezing cold shiver slid down his spine.

Why was everything so deep silent?

As fast as he could, Ivar rushed into the room, not minding the scared expression on his face when he opened the door, catching all the pairs of eyes into that place at once.

You were laid in bed, tired and sweaty like the last times you've done that. Ivar's eyes ran over the midwives, none of them seeming to be scared or anything but surprised with his sudden entrance.

One of them approached you, delivering a moving package in your hands.

It was smaller. Why was it smaller than the others?

Ivar's heart sunk into his chest as he approached the bed, but your smile confused him for a moment before you could show him the little package in your hands.

"Isn't she lovely, husband?" you asked.

And everything broke into shards of stars and light around him.

She was smaller than the others.

She.

His little gift from Freya was looking at him, with icy little blues exactly like his, filling his eyes with tears and making his lips break in a giggle that remembered that knock-kneed fool's voice for a moment.

Oh, Floki would be surely laughing at his anxiousness if he was there to see that moment. Or else, he would be making any stupid joke about how visibly melted Ivar's heart was with the sight of that little preciosity in your arms.

"A girl..." he mumbled, giggling again. "You gave me a beautiful little girl."

"Yes, my love. And I want to name her Aslog Ivarsðóttir. To remember your beautiful mother she'll probably grow to follow in beauty.”

He giggled again.

Oh, damn that fool! He would grow into an old wreck just like him.

But how wouldn't he be happy in front of such a thing? You passed the little package into his hands, and he cut the cord like he'd done so many times for his children before, marking her little forehead with the blood as a blessing.

"Oh, gods, look at you..." he mumbled, speechless in front of the small blue eyes looking at him so full of curiosity.

How, in the name of Odin, could something be that beautiful?

"I grow, I get older, but the gods don't get tired to bless me, do they?" he asked the little one as if she could answer him. "I've seen many things in this life, my child, but none... None was as beautiful as you are, looking at me like this."

His words were making you feel your heart full.

"My father once told me his daughter was the light of his heart. I never understood what he was talking about... With the many sons he had, how could she be different?" Ivar said, looking at you.

And then, turning himself to caress his little girl's face, as gently as if his fingers could break her delicate skin like the flowers you've once seen him braiding into a crown for you.

Maybe now, he would have more flower crowns braided by his hands in the course of his life.

"I get him now," he said. "It is different." Ivar completed.

He loved his children. Every single one of them.

But that moment was unique, and her way to look at him was unspeakable.

His heart was sure he would never see the world the same way once again.

She would be the light to enlighten his way. And what once was black and white had just been painted in the most beautiful colors Ivar ever had seen in his life.

"Are you happy, husband?" you asked.

Just to see him lifting his teary eyes to smile at you.

"No... Happy is too little of a word to define how enormous is what I'm feeling now."

Happiness is nothing, his father once said.

In that little girl's eyes, he could understand it too. It's nothing.

Happiness is nothing compared to the wonders he could experience with you by his side.

Happiness was nothing compared to what it was to hold that little package knowing his world would never be dark ever again.

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raisedinerebor · 2 years ago

Text

My King. My heart. My love.

Pairing:Thorin X Reader

Reader type: Gender neutral

Song: Wicked game- Ursine Vulpine ft Annaca & Middle of the night- Joel Sunny.

Warnings: Angst. Reader death. Blood.

An: Based off of this post. And sorry for the short length!

Tags: @middle-earth-imagines @fizzyxcustard

There is blood on your lips. It coats your tongue. Invades your lungs. It is all you can taste and smell. It is as powerful as the ringing in your ears. It overpowers the steady beat of your heart. It focuses you.

To protect him. Your king.

The sword in your hands grows heavier with every laboured breath. Your once graceful dance now haggard and ragged.

Azog was going to over power you.

Your sword arced in the air. A single fluid swing towards your enemy. Born of years of combat and gathered skill. Your sword crashes against Azogs. Metal strikes metal. He swings. Your feet move. Plant you before him.

You will not lose them.

The line of Durin will not fall.

You cry out. The sound agonizing as it rattles your chest. It fuels the flame in your blood. Sets molten fire in your veins.

You strike.

He parries.

He strikes.

You bounce it back. Drag the edge of your sword along his arm.

The Defiler cries out.

You blink. See double. Snowfall obscurs your sight.

The Pale Orc strikes.

You shoot forward.

Desperation fuels you.

Somewhere to you right Thorin lays unconscious. His nephews to far. To distant.

You sword lands.Slides smoothly into exposed flesh.

Pain.

Hot.

Ice.

Blood spills.

You push onwards. Some beggoten strength fuels you. Drives you forward. Aules prayer is on your lips. To end this. To protect them. Allow you to give your life so three may life.

The prayer rings loud and true.

The Pale Orc stumbles. You pull back. His body straightens. Eyes wide as his breath spills. Deep and heavy from his body.

You can't breathe.

Malhal.

You can't breathe.

You name echoes in the air. Desperation laces it. You can say nothing. Only watch as Azog falls. The Difiler will do no more harm.

As for you?

Your knees hit snow and ice. Red on white. You feel nothing. Hear nothing.

You have done your duty. Right? Protected the king with your last breath. Shielded him with body and sword. Followed your vows until the end.

You fell to your side. You look up. Desperate for something other than your fallen enemy.

The sky is grey. Heavy with clouds and thickly falling snow. It reminds you of your childhood. Days spent playing in the snow. The warmth of your families hearth. The joy. The fun.

That had been so long ago. Nearly two centuries has past. And here you were. Back at the place your life began. Erebor. Home.

"Y/n?" You are lifted into shaking arms. Oh you could weep.

"Thorin?" His name came out one syllable at a time. His hand is in your cheek brushing away the blood that has spilled.

You smile.

"What have you done?" Thorin's voice is cracking. Broken. It fades with you.

"I have protected you. My Uzabadê*." You see his lips move. Hear nothing. And still you smile.

"I am glad. That your face. Is the last I will see." You words slur. Blend.

It is then the tears fall. Thick and heavy. They muddle such pretty eyes. Eyes you have fallen into night after night.

Oh you have prayed to be in these arms. To be embraced as lovers do.

"No. Do not speak like that. Erebor. Our home. You." A sob tears through him. And you weep. Cry for him.

Your hand rises. Weakly. Trembling. You cradled his chin. Thorin falls into it. Your thumb brushes his lips. Oh how you wish he could have kissed you but once. To have been so full of him that you could burst.

Both of you knew how this will end. A lifetime of loss and ruin shared. It had been cruel at worst and unforgiving at best.

You could not decide what this would be.

"Please." His voice is hoarse."We must see it through." Your hand falls. You craves his warmth. Wish for one more night. Out there beneath the stars.

"You will. Uzfakuh*." It falls from your lips. And you mean it. Thorin truly had been the greatest gift in your life.

"Promise." You cough. Sputter. "Promise me. That you will. Live a full life." It is getting harder to hold you eyes open. Body becoming laden with every gasping breath.

Tired. Malhal you were tired.

"Keep the boys close. Your hearth warm. And your heart. Open." Thorin is unable to speak.

You can hear the call of his name in the distance. The sound muffled by the snow fall.

"Promise me. Thorin. Do not let your past define you." Your voice rasps. "Use the light. To brighten your dark." Thorin curls over you. Holds you close. Presses his lips to your hair.

"I promise. Malhal I promise." He pulls away. You catch his eye and smile. Happy to have him as your last image before leaving middle earth. To go into the halls of your creator.

With the last of your strength you pull the already falling beads from your hair. Press them into his hand.

"Men Lananubulkhsme, melhekhel."

Uzabadê: My King

Uzfakuh: My greatest joy.

Men Lananubulkhsme: I love you

Melhekhel: King of all kings.

#the hobbit #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 years ago

Text

Black - Chapter 10

Here's a chapter that was exceedingly fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :D

@legolasbadass I have officially tagged you in something, now, go back to writing 😂

Fandom: The Hobbit

Characters : Thorin x OC, the rest, special mention for Dwalin being a cutie

Words: 5,5 k

Rating: Mature

Warnings: blood, reference to bodily harm, reference to God, ALSO: I am a drama queen *shrug*

“I think you are being unreasonable.” Faith shook her head at him. “Who? Uncle?” Kíli sauntered up to them, bowing crisply to her and adding: “I came to check on you, but I see our own dragon is guarding you jealously.”

“Get dressed, woman, if that one is here, the others are not far behind.” Thorin grumbled and blocked the view of his much too curious nephew while Faith was huddled in the corner of her room, slipping into her chemise and an old rough spun dress she had found in the pile of clothes that were left to her.

Faith had to admit that Thorin might have been right when other dwarrows presented themselves as well in front of her door, “to check on her” as if she was as sickly kitten. “Dori sends me with tea.” Ori mumbled, holding a literal pot of tea in his gloved hands.

“That is ever so kind.” Faith smiled, pouring the rest of her wine back into the carafe and extending the mug to the sweet dwarrow hovering just outside her door. Apparently, there was indeed something unseemly about crossing the threshold of an unmarried woman as an unmarried man. She wondered if that would have been the same if the townspeople of her home had lived. As it was, she would never know, but there was something quite touching in the pile-up of dwarrows outside her room.

“Oh, you’re holding court like a real queen. What is uncle unreasonable about?” Kíli silenced the others by almost screaming.

“Mistress Faith was on her way to bed when you barged in like a fool.” Thorin muttered, obviously in a cantankerous mood.

“She was not, she was berating you!” Kíli replied petulantly. “I don’t think your uncle, the king, should be camped outside of my door.” Faith intervened with an explanation.

“Why don’t you just bolt the door?” The lad asked, scratching his head. When she explained that she couldn’t open the door on her own and that she didn’t like feeling locked in, he gave his uncle a short nod and shrugged: “In that case, uncle is not being unreasonable at all. Let me know if you want company, I can sit with you.”

Faith was speechless. “You are a guest, and we’ll keep you safe.” Kíli said with an easy smile.

“I am safe.” Faith protested. “You are now because you have uncle outside your door. And us.” Kíli winked at her with that youthful pride and confidence that made her heart swell. Oh, bless that kid, she thought, may the stars align for him and bring him endless happiness.

“There you are!” Dwalin came barrelling down the corridor. “Me?” She was taken aback and tiny bit startled.

“No, not you, Mistress. That oaf, the king.” Dwalin nodded to her with what might have been a smile, Faith was not entirely sure and conversed in low, murmured words with Thorin. Faith just sat and listened to the sound of it, weirdly calmed and comforted by the rough elegance of their very own, secret language.

“Mistress Faith? Ah, there comes Fíli.” Faith scrambled to her feet and curtsied for the heir to the throne who presented her with a small cake. “We apologise humbly for having led you astray and for risking your good name. And for annoying you about uncle, we didn’t tell mother everything, but she was not happy either way.” The prince laughed. Faith was impressed by how resolutely and soberly he admitted fault and tried to redress his potential missteps; she understood that their social life had been an unsteady and uncertain thing and that it had been a priority to make them valuable fighters rather than charming courtiers.

Nonetheless, she admired them for their light-hearted honesty as much as for their supposed prowess.

“You’ve given us sweets and now, we give you cake. That makes us friends, doesn’t it? Ah, I see Dori has sent his little brother with that disheartening brew of his.” Fíli declared, commenting casually on the scene he had stumbled upon. Amongst humans, this would have been a childish thing to say, Faith thought, but she realised that he extended an invitation to her, and she was thankful for it. As she was a stranger in their realm, the declaration of a bond between them would protect her, shield her, most probably keep her alive against all odds. It was easy to see them as children as they were the nephews of a man she called a friend, but their lives stretched far into the past and hopefully would extend into a distant future, and already, they knew more than she would ever learn.

With another curtsy, she acknowledged the gracious offer of his friendship and the privileges it brought. “Thank you, dear prince I would be honoured to accept both the cake and your good graces.” He gave her an answering bow that sealed the deal.

If they knew what scandalous actions she had been engaged in only moments ago, Faith thought, they would probably not be that courteous to her. The idea of losing their affection stung, which surprised her, but the idea of losing them, period, turned out to be utterly unbearable to her. Her mind shrank back from the mere thought as from an open, festering wound.

She had been alone most of her life, but the mere contemplation of never seeing the creatures in front of her again filled her with dread and a nameless pain that choked the light out of her heart. For their own people and their culture, they were young still and she couldn’t bear the thought of having such promising torches snuffed out before their time. Would that she could live another hundred years to see their mischief soften to quiet humour, to see them take wives and father children, to be their friend through the different stages of a dwarven life.

The limitations of her own body and life constricted her soul, crushing it to dust, and she wanted to rail against the injustice of being given a glimpse of perfection only to have it snatched away too soon by the ravage of time. No, she thought, she would be thankful to be granted that precious peek; she would be grateful to have known what others only dreamt of and she would treasure those memories and all she had seen until her eyes saw no more.

“Thank you ever so much.” Faith mumbled again, feeling the effects of the half-glass of wine she had drunk and wondering if the dwarrows could eat all the time. She had had more than her fill at the dinner, but she dutifully bit into her cake which was sweet and surprisingly moist.

“Do you like it?” Kíli asked eagerly. “It is like everything else of dwarven make I have experienced.” Faith grinned.

“Bulky, heavy and smelling kind of weird?” Thorin prompted, much to Faith’s chagrin; she had not noticed that he had finished his conversation with his friend. Maybe, she had been wrong and dwarven mischief never really abated, maybe, they just learned to hide their wicked humour under longer beards in time. “Beautiful, compact, and delicious.” She gave him a brazen look full of dancing sparks; she liked bandying words with Thorin almost as much as she liked being kissed by him.

“Delicious, ey?” Dwalin laughed, clapping his king on the shoulder, and promising to come back later to relieve Thorin in his guard-duties. Oh, this was absurd, Faith rolled her eyes, she didn’t need two prime fighters in front of her door.

She had trekked through wind and weather; she had tackled a man with a knife and had chased away another one; she could take care of herself. It seemed though as if Thorin had been mostly correct: if they had lingered in her room, someone would have come looking for them and she might have lost a name that was worth more in this settlement than it ever had before.

She was half a savage, she realised, unused to the social conventions and rules of a society. As a maiden, she should have waited for a husband to give up this most sacrosanct of female gifts, but she was past the marrying age, and she was not overly fond of the idea of dying a virgin.

It was highly improbable that she would ever be anything else than a concubine to anyone and much more believable that she’d end up taken by force…hence the armed king outside her door. He had saved her once from rape and violence, and Faith did not doubt that he would do it again without hesitating.

Until he left.

Looking at the young princes, Faith realised that she felt safe here. She had stopped looking over her shoulder and hence, had let down her guard too much; all these lovely people would go on a perilous journey, and she would be left to her own devices. Maybe, she would have to heed the king’s advice after all and learn to be demure and discreet again.

That would be a whole lot easier once his startling beauty was removed and she could breathe again without getting a whiff of that intoxicating smell. How far would he have to be removed for her to no longer feel tethered to his steps?

She would miss him. His presence had become solace and home to her, a place to rest, a warmth to sustain her, and she would feel more vulnerable with him gone than ever before. Oh, another painful thought she didn’t want to pursue in this moment.

“We should let you get to bed. Just scream if anything is the matter and enjoy the cake.” The youngsters ambled away in high spirits, mocking Ori and his teapot and squabbling about the last cake. She would miss them too; like everything she had experienced in this wondrous place, they were a curious blend of beauty – light, colour, and laughter – and strength – honour, courage, and faith. Yes, she could say that she was fond of them and that she would be looking forward to seeing them again; there was just no way to dislike their open-hearted…fierceness. They were striving towards a brighter future with such zeal and indefatigable energy that Faith was pulled along despite her own reservations.

“Can I offer you a piece, my king?” Faith sat down again on her side of the doorframe, offering the baked good to Thorin.

“Ah, yes, I won’t say “no” to that.” He nodded, breaking off a piece and shoving it into his mouth, crumbs raining down on his tunic which she brushed away casually, amused to find that the king had a sweet tooth. His hand closed around her wrist.

“I am sorry, Faith, this…it was a mess. I…” He sighed. “I want to do this right…”

Oh, how could she have forgotten? While she was obsessing about her own death as if she was a crone already, she had forgotten that he had seen decades more than her; the time for his retribution had come and, of course, he didn’t want more loose ends and false starts to burden him.

“I will make it right; I will…” His eyes had softened to a mesmerizing dark blue in the low light, intense and captivating.

Now that the fire in her veins had dulled into a sensuous warmth, a steady flow of earnest affection and deep longing, she could put aside the wounds her vanity had sustained and mumble: “Oh, you king of second chances, I am sure you will.”

“Have faith in me, sweet one, I will make good on my word.” – “I shall not be another burden on your shoulders, Thorin-king.” She protested softly, putting her hand lightly on top of his.

“You are not, neither are they.” He waved in the general direction in which his nephews had disappeared. “I will succeed where others have failed, because of all of you. I will bring you home: my sister, my nephews, my friends…you. I swear.”

The intensity of his gaze and of his determination sent shivers down Faith’s spine.

She was a woman without a history and, probably, without a future, but she could recognise the weight of his ancestors’ failures, of his people’s suffering, and of his own ambition bear down on him inexorably.

“Rest, sweet king, you have done me no wrong.” She reassured him. “Have I not?” His eyes narrowed, suspecting a subterfuge or a trick. “You are a stubborn but very honourable fool, and I am glad that you convinced me to come here.” She grinned.

“So, you like it here? You’ll like Erebor then. It’s full of gold.” He smiled. “You and your gold!” She laughed.

“It’s full of beautiful things.” He tried again. “It shall be, yeah.” She chuckled, bumping her shoulder gently into his.

“You…I wanted to say that I feel honoured that you’d…consider me for…” He nodded at the empty room behind her, which made her giggle again; he really was too upstanding to be real.

“You are the single most beautiful living thing I’ve ever beheld in my life. You’re kind, generous, and brave. I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable; I see now that there are rules to be followed and I did not mean any disrespect.”

Thorin seemed to ponder her words for a while before nodding: “Yes, I guess that is true…I know that you are physically incapable of wilfully disrespecting anyone or anything almost, so no problem.”

“What are the rules, Thorin-king?” She had caught a glimmer in his eye that disquieted her considerably.

He looked purposefully away for a moment and then mumbled into his beard: “I’d court you and then…”

“What would you quarter me for? In that case, I do see why you think intercourse would be dangerous.” Faith hissed, aghast.

“Court you, not quarter you. Who do you think I am?” Thorin exclaimed, lowering his voice immediately.

“I am sorry that I do not have your sister’s supersonic hearing.” Faith grumbled, but she had to laugh when she saw his dumbfounded face. “Oh, Dís, she was born like that. It’s because she loves information that much. I call it information…”

He made a face.

“She sounds like a valuable councillor then, wouldn’t you say?” Faith teased him. “Kíli gets it from her, that wicked sense of humour and that…” His voice softened, “She has a fierce heart, my sister does, stay close to Dís, she’ll keep you safe.”

Faith believed him, but she wondered how he could be so sure.

“My sister loves me as I love her, you are my friend, you are her sons’ friend…She won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden on the princess either.” Faith protested, flustered by the finality in his voice.

Thorin took her hand and murmured: “Can you do two things for me, please? One, go to bed, otherwise I will have to kiss you again and we have seen that it generally ends in…frustration; and two, promise that you’ll stay with Dís.”

Throwing a quick glance down the corridors, Faith stuck out her head of the doorframe and pressed a single, warm, lingering kiss on his stubborn mouth and whispered: “I swear to stick to the princess…and lay down my life if necessary for her protection.”

Mahal have mercy, Thorin thought, the two women he cared for most would try to die in protection of one another at the slightest provocation; they were both fiercely loyal and brave in their own way. Devoted and self-forgotten, Faith had no regard for her own fragile life that seemed to be entirely made up of service while Dís had ever been a pugnacious dwarrowdam who would not avoid a fight if she thought she could win. Dís always thought she could win. She was his sister, after all.

“Good night, king of kings.” She whispered, flipping one of his braids playfully over his shoulder and scrambling to get to her feet. Thorin watched her go, taking off her dress again as she went, and cursed himself for being such a fool.

As she slipped between the sheets though, Faith stiffened and cried out: “Wait a minute…what do you mean by court?”

It had taken some time for his words to sink in, but again, all her fatigue evaded her within a second.

“Well, courting gifts, braids, walking around with your hand in mine…more intrusive questions by my nephews, more teasing by my sister…” He enumerated and ticked off the fingers of his hand.

Marriage, Faith thought, that was what it all led up to. Courting led to weddings, in general, and she would not marry Thorin Oakenshield, king of the Longbeards, not if the almighty creator himself did not come down and grant her a life long enough to honour the bond she would enter into, and a blood worthy of his. Falling back hard into her pillow, she resisted the urge of burying her head in it and asphyxiating herself out of pure impatience and annoyance with the situation.

Then again, the idea of having his nephews and his sister, and ultimately of course him, around until her forever came, held such a sweet seduction that it tore her heart apart. The intensity of her longing made it very clear to her that she was reaching for forbidden fruit indeed. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling that started to swim and swirl in front of her eyes.

“Sleep, sweet one, tomorrow is another day. There will be time for you to decide if that is something you’d want.”

Oh, naturally, he would be a perfectly honourable man about that as well, Faith thought with something akin to disdain almost; while she fretted and fussed, he would offer his courtship and she would have the right to deny it.

Would he understand her reasons when she finally did reject his promise of tender and respectful advances? Or would he feel as miserably unsatisfied as she did now?

Again, she tried to remind herself of the fact that he did not care for her in that way. She had promised him her body and he was looking to find some justification for taking it; a man such as him would not simply despoil a woman because he felt like it, no, he would create the pretence of a mock courtship to explain why he had taken what he could never give back.

Time would tell. Time, her constant enemy, the shadow gnawing mercilessly on her hours in the sun, would decide if she ever got an answer to those questions.

“You can tell me sooner of course.” Thorin mumbled and she sat up in bed, her blanket a tangled mess around her legs.

“It is a discussion for another day, surely.” She replied calmly, falling back to hide her face and its expression from him.

“Are you very cross with me, Faith?” He asked then.

“Not in the least, Thorin.” She decided against a title, knowing that it would make him believe that she was indeed angry when, really, she was confused and considerably hurt by everything that had happened tonight and by the fears that swirled in her head and heart without surcease. “Good, I couldn’t bear to disappoint you as well.”

“What are you talking about?” Again, she shot up to stare at him in dumbfounded amazement. “I will do right by all of you.” He vowed anew and Faith wondered if he always took his own trespasses so seriously; of course, he would.

“Good night, Master Dwarf. I care for you, and you are beautiful.” She repeated the most important things of the evening, swallowing her rejection of his courtship and falling into a fitful sleep, constantly disturbed by her body that was as taut as a twisted piece of wire. Every time her thighs touched, a spark of pure agony shot through her limbs, a feeling she knew would subside but that made her intensely miserable, nonetheless.

“How’s the little lady?” Dwalin clunked down the corridor and was forced to sneak the last stretch so as not to awaken Faith.

Thorin loved his friend, but he would not tell him how he had spent the last hours listening to Faith mumble and moan in her sleep; more than once, she had whimpered his name and he had been sorely tempted to take off his clothes again and slip between the covers with her.

Somewhere between her body and the mattress lay heaven, he knew, and her soft groaning had worn out his soul and chafed his skin raw with desire.

“She’s not a little lady.” Thorin grumbled. No, Faith was fearless when it came to actual danger; despite her innate subservience and her sweet temper, she was a fierce woman he was honoured and happy to call his friend.

“You’re thinking about courting her, aren’t you?” – “If she’ll have me.” Thorin didn’t even try denying it.

Dwalin had his doubts about that; Faith seemed fond enough of their mutual friend, of their common king, but could she find that kind of love inside herself for someone who was not of her own race? Friendships were indiscriminate; they were based on mutual respect and understanding, but marriage followed a set of rules much stricter and more severe.

It was also probable that she’d die before him, but he was not exactly a young dwarf and they had years ahead of them that could be spent in happy union; if he lived, if she agreed. Did she know that? Would she want that?

“She’s very…kind.” Dwalin said carefully, for she had been nothing but nice to him despite the fact that even dwarrowdams had told him before that he looked like a raincloud pickled in vinegar and left to dry on a stony cliff. “She is.” Thorin agreed.

“What is with the door?” Dwalin then asked and nodded at the huddled form in the bed he could make out in the penumbra. “She can’t open it on her own.” Thorin explained and then, the epiphany hit him: he would not wait for his return or her joining him; he would start his tentative courting with the very basic gift of an appropriate door.

“I…I have something to do. Please do not turn around under any circumstance and tell Mistress Faith that I’ll find her as soon as I’m done.” Thorin spluttered hastily and, boots in hand, almost ran down the corridor in search of a carpenter.

He would have a door made that she could easily open and close herself, but he would make sure that it was sturdy, fashioning and applying the bolts himself. Would that this blasted wizard was around to help imbue the very slab of wood with spells for her protection. Yes, he would convince her of his deep affection for her in the only way he knew: hard work and presents.

Faith woke up to the broad back of Master Dwalin completely obscuring the doorframe.

“The king is…doing something and he’ll find you as soon as he has finished…doing whatever he is doing.” The dwarrow grunted as a reply to her cheery greeting.

Slipping back into her simple shift, Faith approached the stolid figure and tapped him on the shoulder. “Would you be so good as to let me out?” He shifted aside and let her pass, but as she took a step, he followed her.

“I’d rather keep an eye on you.” He muttered, a low, rumbling sound that she very much enjoyed. “You are a dear man, Master Dwalin.” She chirped and nodded slowly.

“Hmmm, me? Hmmm, thank you, Mistress Faith.”

If she had been a braver woman when it came to social conventions, Faith might have asked to hug him, but as it was, she didn’t dare presume. “You’re a funny little creature as well.” He chuckled after a moment which made her turn around in surprise.

“Where are we going?” He cocked his head. “First to get you some breakfast and then to the river, if that is agreeable to you.” She replied gently. As he was intent on shadowing her, she had to think of his well-being as much as he seemed to worry about hers; so, off to the kitchens they went in search of a fortifying meal for the big warrior.

While Dwalin was still munching noisily on his breakfast, Faith was already kneeling beside the river, digging her hands deep into the soil, and filtering out the clay in meticulous steps until she had a sizeable ball. Her guardian watched her work tirelessly, fascinated by her steady, soft movements. Thorin was right, he thought, she was a creature of mud.

Even though the king himself was, in this moment, hammering steel with ringing force, there was a parallel to be drawn between the rhythmic, almost dance-like movements both of them were performing to create something new. For one another, if Dwalin wasn’t very much mistaken.

“I’d ask the kitchens if you can use one of their ovens rather than the open fire of the furnace.” He commented when Faith started moulding and twisting her ball of clay into shapes. “It will be quicker and gentler on your creations.”

Faith nodded when a glint in the water caught her eye. A beautiful, iridescent pebble, smooth and shiny was sitting right next to a single coin. She knew not if it had been caught in the folds of her dress or if someone else had lost it in the river, but she took it to be a good omen for her sacrifice to find things so beautiful to add to her offering.

“Off to the kitchens we go again then, Master Dwalin.” She smiled, heaping her work into his broad palms and chuckling to herself as she watched him hold them carefully in his hands while he walked gingerly ahead of her. He was a dear fellow…and another soul to miss bitterly.

“Come quick, uncle.” Thorin looked up from the bolt he had been fitting on the wooden door meant for Faith’s room in surprise. “You have to see that.” Fíli, his nephew, his heir, was waving him along urgently and so he followed without taking the time to cross-examine the lad on the motivation for his peculiar behaviour.

As soon as they arrived at the side of his dear sister, Thorin could understand where the excitement came from. Faith was kneeling in front of a tree hugging the mountainside, laying out the earthen dishes she had made with her own hands this morning.

“Uncle.” Kíli yelped, just arriving, upon seeing Faith pull out a knife and slashing open her arm once again, letting her blood drip into one of the shallow vessels slowly. “Let her be.” Thorin muttered, closing his hand around his nephew’s wrist to restrain him.

“I come to you, oh great creator, guide of my steps, in prayer.” Faith started, touching her forehead to the ground.

“But, I come not for myself. I come to pray for the safe passage and blessed return of Thorin Oakenshield and his company.” Again, she bowed down, then lifting her bloodied hands to the sky and pleading:

“You who have many faces, allow me to address those I have known all my life without ever speaking their name. I have been told that the one Thorin calls Mahal and we may call “crafting face of the creator” has hewn the dwarrows from stone. Oh, father of all, remember those you gave life to and show them mercy once again. Oh, stone remember who you once cradled and mellow your bosom for them. May their steps tread safely on you and may you open your womb once again to give them refuge.”

Faith touched one of her dishes in which a single coin and an iridescent river pebble lay.

“Let not the fashioner of evil unmake your gift of strength and beauty to this world. For this, I pray.”

She turned to the second dish, containing seeds and herbs she had picked, offerings covered in mud and earth still.

“Oh, great creator, I cry to the part of you that is warm and motherly, to the face Thorin calls Yavanna under his breath. They are not made of stone; they are born, and they grow. May the protection of the mother fall upon them, the defence of all things that grow and thrive. Let the world I have cherished welcome them freely, oh great creator, oh manyfold God. May the rivers run smooth, and the trees grant them shade. Oh, earth you who have been my mother, hide their steps from foes and bear fruit to sustain them. I beg for this as a friend of all things living, may they be recognised by bird and beast, by heart and soul alive, for what they are: living, breathing, feeling creatures of this earth. Do not let them walk alone. For this, I pray.”

Finally, she lifted her own blood and poured it onto the soil in front of her.

“I am but a measly creature, a single life, but I understand that whatever blessing I might have known has had a purpose. I am a vessel and here, I surrender the mercy I have been granted to this greatest of kings. Take this blood into your bosom and see the flaws within it! May my life and the life of my kin be a cenotaph to guilt that spans over generations!”

She touched her forehead to the ground again before going on:

“Oh, great creator, carry the wisdom I have paid in blood and tears forth; may there be a gracious and brave child for every stubborn, unhospitable father, may the sons and daughters save their elders by their generous deeds. For this, I pray.”

Faith stood up again, bowing to her offerings thrice before lifting the knife to her throat.

This time, even Thorin jerked, but she merely cut off a strand of her hair to let it fall in the blood-stained dish.

“As for myself, I vow service, as I have before. I shall work tirelessly; I shall dig my hands bloody in search of fertile earth and I shall make plants thrive in your honour. From the day their feet fall into the first step of this most perilous of journeys until the day I shall gaze upon your blessed people again, oh great creator, I shall walk and pray in devout industry, only ever lifting my eyes to the sky to check if I am called forth. I yield whatever grace was placed upon and within me to Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, and whoever goes with him; I offer whatever strength I have to please you, oh great creator, in all your glory.”

Faith was about to turn away when she fell onto her knees again, her head pressed against the blood-drenched soil, sobbing in a low voice: “Oh, I plead with you, oh glorious, almighty, many-faced one, protect the one I call friend, the one who promised more than his body to me, bring him home safely even if I never get to see him again. Do not cut short the life of princes so valiant and honourable either. Take home the weary bones of old warriors and give fertile soil to the young ones to thrive. You are the maker of all things, of things that never change and of things that never stand still; honour their steadfast courage, eternal as the mountain, and their beating hearts, ever-changing as the seasons.”

Remembering the excellent hearing of the dwarrows, Faith lowered her voice to a whisper as she finished: “For I love them, dearly, desperately, endlessly. May the love of a mere mortal be guide, shield, and sword to them. I ask for nothing for myself, not an ounce of comfort, not a single blessing, heed my love for it is my only need in this life! I beg of you, I’d give everything for you to hear me…for this I pray.”

She bowed one last time, pulled down her sleeve and turned around to see Thorin staring at her with unfathomable eyes.

And then, the pain engulfed her, and she collapsed at the same time as Thorin broke into an impressive sprint for a boulder.

#fanfiction #thorin oakenshield #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #prayer #the aftermath of almost sex #nice chapter to write #overly dramatic

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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 4 years ago

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OH MY GOSH DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT’S BEEN SINCE I WROTE FOR FILI?!!??! TOO LONG. I enjoyed every second of his Fee-Fluff. Although, I actually kept trying to put ‘Kili’ instead of ‘Fili’... I think I need to write for Fili more or Kili is trying to tell me something Also, I was SO SO SO tempted to use one of Arwen’s lines in here... But I didn’t. You’ll know the scene when you come to it though... ;)

Fluff about friend-zoning and Fili working up the nerve to tell a special lass he likes her.

Tags: @elvish-sky @kumqu4t @ladylouoflothlorien

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Loka

Word Count: 2,177

Translation(s): Surprisingly, none

Warning(s): None. Just fluff!

~~~~

"It's time to end this, once and for all." Kili declared suddenly as he sat next to me in the library; head propped up on his palms. I glanced up sharply from the thick tome I was currently pouring over.

"What?" I asked, not sure if I had heard him right.

"I said, it's time to end this once and for all. I'm sick of watching you pine after Fili." He repeated, adding some clarification to his words.

I let out a sigh, grabbing the ribbon I was using as a bookmark and placing it in the book to mark my spot. Something told me I wouldn't be returning to it for awhile. "What are you even talking about, Kili? I don't pine after Fili." I said, and Kili smirked.

"Uh huh. I've counted you watching him 178 different times in the past three days. Explain that." He said, prompting a faint blush to appear on my cheeks.

And I thought I hadn't been that obvious... Hmm, perhaps it was time to be a bit more--

"That's what I thought." Kili's confidence-loaded voice broke through my thoughts, and I looked up to see him grinning knowingly at me. "You fancy him, don't you?"

I gave Kili a confused look, trying to buy myself time. "Fancy who?"

Kili threw up his hands in a show of exasperation. "Fili. My brother. The one who's always watching you." He said in much too loud of a voice, and I motioned at him to be quiet. I didn't need this to be the new rumor circling Erebor.

Mahal, how embarrassing would that be?

But his words puzzled me; the way that they implied that Fili---no, surely not. It was too good to be true.

Footsteps sounded behind me, interrupting my musings, and Kili winked at me, grinning mischievously. "Who fancies who?" A deep, gentle voice asked behind me as broad hands came down to rest upon my shoulders.

Speak of the devil...

"I was just talking to Loka here about a lad from the Iron Mountains. She thought he was quite fetching." Kili piped up suddenly, and I shot him a glare. The nerve of him...

Fili's hands tightened on my shoulders, and I fidgeted a bit in discomfort. "Hey, be careful about squeezing me too hard. I'm not iron." I muttered, and Fili's hands disappeared in an instant as he came around to stand beside me.

"Sorry, Loka." He said, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Those beautiful blue eyes of his had a faraway gaze.

Kili kicked my shin underneath the table, and I turned to him with a stifled yelp of pain. "What the hell was that for?" I hissed, glaring furiously at the insolent Prince.

You were staring again. He mouthed with a cheeky look on his face. I just gave him a disgusted look and turned my gaze back down to the book I had so reluctantly vacated.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got some things to take care of." I said, breaking the silence that had fallen over us as soon as Fili approached.

Before either of them could protest, I gathered up my stuff from the library table and hurried out of Erebor's royal library. Maybe I could finally finish the tales of Númenor in the comfort of my own room?

~~~~

"Loka!" A sharp cry of my name had me halting in my tracks as I walked through the halls of Erebor. Turning around, I was surprised to see Fili jogging towards me; decked out in full royal garb.

"Prince Fili?" I asked, fidgeting with the bundle of fabric in my arms. A grimace flashed across Fili's face at my use of his title.

"How many times have I told you that you don't need to call me by that...?" He groaned, and I gave him an apologetic smile.

"Obviously not enough times; but I kinda have to call you by that since you are the Crown Prince after all." I said, but Fili just shook his head.

"Forget etiquette for once, Loka." He said, giving me a pleading look that awoke butterflies in my stomach.

Nodding, I smiled at him. "If that's what you command... But anyways, why did you stop me?" I asked curiously, and Fili shuffled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his rapidly reddening neck as he turned his gaze to the floor.

"Uh..." He was suddenly at a loss for words, and I watched this with a incredulous look. Never before had I seen Fili look so... nervous.

"Fee?" I called softly, using Fili's childhood nickname.

"Would you like to go to the ball with me?" He suddenly said; words rushing out in a jumbled hurry that left me speechless for a moment as I processed them.

"The ball that's happening in about four days?" I asked, and Fili nodded quickly.

"Aye, that one. Would you like to go with me?"

Disappointment welled in my stomach as I looked at the hopeful expression on his bearded features. "I would love to--" I began, and Fili's face broke out in a wide smile.

"Tha-that's great!" He said excitedly, but I raised a hand to stop him.

"You didn't let me finish. I would love to go with you, but I'm already going with someone." I said, and the smile was wiped off Fili's face, only to be replaced with a furrowed look that didn't belong anywhere on his handsome features. "I'm so sorry, Fili." I whispered, but Fili was quick to shake his head.

"No, no, I should be sorry for bothering you. It's no big deal Loka, I just thought... Who are you going with?" He asked, quickly switching topics.

An image of a dark-haired Dwarrow--the exact opposite of Fili in so many different ways--popped into my head. "Maglorian. One of Dain's ambassadors." I said quietly, forcing a bright smile onto my face.

Fili nodded, a dark shadow passing over his face at the mention of the name. "I've heard of him; he's very nice." He said, giving me a smile that was so obviously fake it hurt. "Well, save a dance for me maybe?"

I nodded quickly, trying to find a way to lift this black cloud that had suddenly settled over Fili. "Of course! I'll always have a dance for you, Fee." I said softly, and a smile flickered across his lips.

"See you around, Loka." He murmured, turning and walking past me down the hallway. I watched him go, noting the way his shoulders were slumped in a picture of disappointment. But why? Surely he hadn't wanted to go that badly with me? Hadn't his question just been a friend asking a friend so they didn't have to go alone?

Shaking my head, I continued on my way to the Palace seamstress. My dress needed some alterations to fit the current styles of King Thorin's court, and I hadn't had time before now to deliver it to her.

~~~~

The day of the ball had finally arrived, but something just seemed wrong. Maglorian was very polite and nice, but not even his gracious manners could bring a genuine smile to my face.

I tried--I really did--to keep my attention on him, but I couldn't help sneaking glances towards the dour Fili. Mahal, I'd never seen him look so hurt before.

"Miss Loka, would you like something to drink?" Maglorian's cultured tones had me looking away from where Fili stood beside Kili and Thorin; watching the festivities.

Forcing a smile, I nodded sweetly. "That sounds lovely, thank you Maglorian." I said, and he smiled back, heading away from me towards the refreshments.

Breathing out a sigh, I returned my gaze towards the trio of royals, only to notice that one was missing.

Kili.

Glancing around the crowded ballroom, I tried to spot the dark-haired Prince in case he attempted to pull a prank on me or something. I wouldn't put it past him.

"Fancy a dance, my lady?" A cheeky voice said from right beside me, and I whirled around to find Kili standing in front of me.

Rolling my eyes, I accepted his proffered hand. "I suppose, if only to get away from the ambassador and his manners for a moment." I said, prompting a laugh from Kili.

"He's that bad, huh? I thought you said he was handsome."

"He's handsome in his own way, but he just oozes 'proper etiquette'. It's enough to make any lass sick." I grumbled, placing on hand on Kili's shoulder as he settled a hand on my waist. The music had turned to a slower waltz that was perfect for talking.

Kili chuckled, grinning down at me. "Perfect."

His words had me looking up at him in bewilderment as he suddenly spun me away from him and into someone else's arms. For a moment, I thought it was Maglorian and I went to pull away.

"I thought you said you'd save me a dance? Did you change your mind?" A familiar voice asked teasingly, and I realized Fili was the one with an arm around my waist.

Blushing, I looked up at Fili with a sheepish smile on my face. "I thought you were Maglorian... You are welcome to as many dances as you wish to claim." I said, quickly adjusting my grip so that one hand was held in Fili's while the other rested on his broad shoulder.

Fili raised an eyebrow. "So you don't like that ambassador then?" He asked quietly, and I shook my head.

"Of course not... He's just a nice guy that I thought would be fun to go to the ball with." I said, understanding suddenly dawning on me. "Wait, you thought that me and him were serious or something?"

Pink began to tinge Fili's cheeks, and he looked away from me. "Well..."

"You're jealous of him! Are you afraid he'd steal your friend away from you?" I teased, laughing at the thought even as my heart sank.

Friends, always friends. But I'd have to content myself with that. He'd never see me as something more.

"No." Fili's voice was uncharacteristically hard and I scanned his face worriedly. "I wasn't afraid that he'd steal my friend...." He trailed off and let out a sigh, raising his head to look around at the other dancers around us. "I--just come outside with me for a moment. I'll explain." He said suddenly, dropping his hand from my waist to lead me towards the doors out to the hallway.

I followed obligingly, wondering what he was going to explain. What did he even have to explain?

Once we were finally alone out in the deserted hallway, Fili grabbed my hands and looked down at me with a searching expression in his crystal blue eyes. "I don't know why it's so hard to say... I've never been so afraid of something before..." He muttered, and I looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"Fee?" I prodded, and he took a deep breath, ducking his head for a moment before looking back up at me. "I was jealous of that Dwarrow, yeah, but not for the reasons you think." He whispered, and my eyes widened slightly.

Was he going to say what I thought he was going to say?

"I thought that he was going to steal away the heart of the lass who stole mine." He said quietly, looking at me with such a vulnerable expression in his eyes, it brought tears to mine. "It's alright if you don't feel the same, Loka, I'll get over it eventually." He muttered as I stared at him in disbelief.

"No!" I exclaimed, and Fili watched me apprehensively. "Don't get over me, please. I love you." I whispered hoarsely, and Fili scanned my face closely, looking for any hint of a lie.

"Loka..." He murmured in a low voice, raising trembling hands to gently cup my face, "I feel like I'm dreaming."

I smiled at him, closing the space between us until I was held close between his arms. "Then we're sharing the same dream." I whispered, tilting my head upwards as he leaned down to slant his lips over mine; his golden locks falling like a curtain over both our faces.

"Oh Mahal, finally! I thought I'd have to lock you two in a closet somewhere!"

Fili reluctantly pulled away from me with a sigh, turning his head to look at a grinning Kili leaning against a pillar nearby. "Do you mind?" He said with a raised eyebrow, and Kili raised his hands in a show of surrender.

"Sorry... Just keep in mind that Uncle is going to be looking for you soon, so don't get too cozy together..." He said, winking suggestively.

"Kili..." Fili growled, but a red flush was spreading up his neck. "Don't make me--"

"I'm going! I'm going!"

With that, Kili disappeared back into the festivities, leaving me and Fili alone once more.

Looking back down at me, Fili gave me a roguish smile. "Now, where were we...?"

#fili #the hobbit #line of durin #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #angst #jealousy #fili x oc #dwarves #kili #royal ball #erebor #friends #just friends #fili friday

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yourehomesickiunderstand · 3 years ago

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About/Rules/Verses

Hello, and welcome to my Bofur RP blog. This post is a HUGE wall of text, if you are on desktop and would like to see it a little tidier, please see the separate pages in the sidebar to the right.

Promo Post Found Here

About the Mun

1. Firstly I am over 30, own a house, have a husband, 1 baby, 2 cats, and a wealth of commitments and responsibilities. I will do my best to reply in a timely manner, but will state up front that sometimes life gets in the way.

2. I am in EST and work M-F from 9-5, plus a half hour commute. Please understand that I can not post from work, and will not be posting during those times.

3. In addition, I am Mom to a very active toddler who is my priority over writing and who’s nap schedule tends to dictate when I can post.

4. My native language is English, though I can understand French, and a little bit of Spanish and Japanese. Don’t bank on me carrying on a decent conversation in any of those languages though.

About the Blog

1. When I first set up this blog I didn’t realize that secondary blogs can’t follow back, ask, or submit. My main blog name is Saffity, so if you see that blog follow you, it’s me. If I send an ask or submit, I will mention this blog name so you don’t get confused.

2. My inbox, ask, etc. is open. Please feel free to write me any starters, questions, or whatever.

3. Please send any critiques or suggestions to me. I’ve been on Tumblr forever, but have never really been a poster. If you see me doing basic noob mistakes with my posts that can be easily fixed, please let me know.

4. I will be tracking #yourehomesickiunderstand so please use that tag with our threads.

Mun’s Playing Style

1. I prefer my Bofur straight. I understand Boffins and other ships and have no qualms with them, I’ve been known to enjoy a good fluff fic once in a while, but this Bofur is straight.

2. Please send me an ask or fan mail if you would like our characters to have an already established relationship, I’m totally cool with it. I respond to all cannon characters as known as it shows in the books or movies, but if you are an OC and want something other than a “Nice to meet you” please let me know first.

3. I’m willing to do some fluffies, but not full on smut, if the thread calls for smut (which will often happen), I’ll fade to black when I’ve gone as far as I feel comfortable with. (Don’t worry, I’ll fade when I’m ready, you’ll never get any angry messages from me about going too far.)

4. Bofur here is multiverse, au, indie, whatever you want to call it. I’m sure he’ll fit into whatever crossover or world you decide to drop him in, he’s very easy going after all.

5. I tend to write in the past tense, third person. If you’d prefer a different style, just let me know and I’ll try to accommodate.

6. I’m bad with my images, so bad! I’m still figuring everything out, so if I’ve royally screwed something up, please let me know and I will delete and repost correctly.

7. I am super okay with editing anything I write if it doesn’t jive with your character or where you want the plot to go, please just let me know.

8. I mainly play on mobile, as such, I’m not able to cut my posts down. Please do so whenever you feel the need/want, I won’t be upset.

Head Cannons that go across all verses

1. Bofur has a Northern Irish accent and his hat, always his hat.

2. Bofur has named his hat Bundushathur, which in Khuzdul means “Cloudyhead” and will sometimes refer to his hat as a sleeping rabbit. If Khuzdul does not exist in the verse (like Modern) then the hat is called Cloudyhead and still referred to as a rabbit.

3. Bofur is the everyman, he isn’t special or high born. He is good natured, friendly, and the world’s best wingman, even if it means connecting someone he pines after with someone else. He would rather see them happy and keep their friendship than try to force his feelings on them or lose their friendship because of his pride.

4. The main characteristic about Bofur is that he is unimportant in the hierarchy of society.

Main Verse - The Hobbit/LOTR

Bofur is 4'6" but fairly thin for a dwarf.

Bofur is a dwarf who’s family line comes from Moria. He is of the mining class. He was born and raised in Ered Luin with his brother. Shortly after Bofur became an adult, his parents died, leaving him to raise his brother. Shortly after that, Bifur was injured in an orc attack. Bofur and Bombur took Bifur in, however there were a number of difficult years as they all got used to Bifur’s new personality.

Once Bifur was stable enough, the brothers decided it would be a good idea to head out and find new customers for their skills. They ended up at Bree, opening up a shop to sell Bifur’s fabulous toys, and offer tinkering services.

During their stay in Bree, Bombur got married to a passing female dwarf and moved his overly large family near the shop. Bifur and Bofur live together in living quarters at the back of the shop, Bombur lived with them until he got married.

Bofur travels around Middle Earth, usually west of the Misty Mountains, and most often between Bree and Ered Luin by way of the Shire. He collects supplies, sells wares, and visits many friends and family that are about the lands.

When Thorin calls for assistance in taking back Erebor, Bofur and his kin lock up their shop and head for the Shire.

After the quest they settle in Erebor, though Bofur heads back to Bree to close up their shop and settle accounts prior to settling in for a long life of enjoying his 14th share of the treasure.

Head Cannons that can totally change if my partner is a Bifur or Bombur

1. Bofur’s father was killed in Moria at the battle of Azanulbizar, his Mother died in an Orc attack when Bofur was in his 40s. He has taken care of his brother ever since.

2. Bofur took Bifur in after Bifur was orphaned as well, the three are like brothers, having shared the experience of loss and growing up together.

3. Bombur stopped speaking after their mother died. Bofur’s tried to get him to speak, and has managed to get him to speak sometimes, but usually just small replies and often with much prodding. Bifur and Bombur use the same sign language to speak to each other and those who don’t speak Khuzdul. Bofur takes care of both of them and is the one who speaks to customers.

Modern Verse

High School

Bofur is not popular, though he’s friendly and basically knows everyone. He enjoys shop class, classical music, and historical literature.

Studious and hard working, Bofur can often be found with his nose in a book, when not sitting on the bleachers playing the tin flute he always has on him.

College Student

Bofur is a TA in college. His major is historical literature, and his goal is to eventually become a professor. His passion is delving into historical fanatasy from cultures other than England and Western Europe.

He enjoys learning languages in order to read what he is researching in its original state.

General Modern Adult

In most modern adult verses Bofur is a general labourer, most often a janitor. If he is a teacher, he teaches music and drama.

Ice Cream Shop

Bofur runs a small home made ice cream shop that is part of a coffee shop run with a companion or family member (his partner can be any member of the company). He makes a variety of flavours, and offers lactose and gluten free varieties.

He prides himself on being able to guess his customers’ favourites on sight (like the movie Chocolat).

Marvel

Bofur is a janitor within shield. He can be found on the helicarrier, within the Avengers training base, or basically anywhere the heroes may be destroying things that need to be cleaned up.

While he is quiet and without powers, he has wisdom and a patient ear to lend to those supers who require a moment to vent.

Star Trek

This is the only verse where Bofur stands out. Bofur is a red shirt, but by some miraculous turn of events, he has gone on a number of away missions and made it back alive. Poor Bofur would love to get off the enterprise with his life, and shirt, in tact, but it appears some of the higher officers like to see him lose his mind and suggest him for more away missions, even if only in jest.

Head cannons that exist in all modern verses

1. Bofur and his family are from Northern Ireland, though Bofur travels around, goes to school abroad, and in general can pop up anywhere in the world.

2. Bofur is short for a male - 5'6", with a stocky build, and fairly strong.

3. Bofur’s younger brother Bombur is still at home (or married with kids depending on their age).

4. Bofur’s parents took Bifur in after he got injured during Armed Forces training, as Bofur’s family lives closer to the rehab resources that Bifur requires.

#out of songs

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fizzyxcustard · 4 years ago

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Unhappy, Unholy Matrimony

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf!Wife, Dwarf!Fem!Reader x Dwarf!Husband, slight Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, loneliness, arranged marriage, unhappiness, slight smut mention, infidelity, no happy ending

Comments: I haven’t written a summary as it’s above in the header. It kinda took on a life of its own half way through and the ending pretty much came out of nowhere.

If you would like to be added to my tag list, or removed, shoot me a message or an ask. Requested by a few people over the last few months, so my apologies for only just getting to it now.

You felt swallowed by the huge gathering before you. Swirling shapes and colours were all around you, dancing to sweet, upbeat music that was being played by a group of musicians. They were all red-faced, full of alcohol, enjoying their melodies.

The couples dancing all looked happy, fulfilled and enjoying life. It made you sigh in contemplation and you sat down at one of the long tables that was situated at the side of the huge hall. Only a few people remained seated, drinking and conversing over old times. Your husband was off somewhere, probably discussing old war conquests with his friends, something you had little interest in hearing for a hundredth time.

You let out a sigh and let the loneliness swallow you.

“How are you enjoying the evening?” a familiar, baritone voice came.

You turned in your seat to see the king, Thorin, standing behind you. He’d only been crowned two months and had already brought Erebor back from ruin, turning into a flourishing kingdom of peace and prosperity.

“M...my Lord,” you stuttered, and flew to your feet.

“Do not stand on ceremony,” Thorin beamed. “I have been hoping I would be able to catch you.” Those eyes had always made you weak. Even in your younger days when you had served him in the Blue Mountains. Before your arranged marriage, before all of this. You fondly remembered the days when you would attend to him and then sit beside him, enjoying the sun set. You had forged a deep bond. But you had both knew then that it would always be impossible to take it any further. Your futures were not destined to entwine.

“The queen looks beautiful tonight,” you said softly, looking at the beautiful blonde Dwarf woman who was dancing with Dwalin. She was a pleasant woman, kind and compassionate. Thorin seemed to genuinely care for her, so maybe he was happy with his life.

“Yes,” Thorin replied, turning away. To him, it would always be you who would hold the position of the most beautiful. No one else could ever compete. “Yes, she does.” Through his eyes, the queen was attractive, but she would never be you. Even in their love making, Thorin imagined you. It took everything within him to not call out your name when he climaxed. His dreams were littered with visions of you holding a newborn bundle, a beautiful creation between you both.

“Are you alright?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the quiet king.

“I’m sorry,” Thorin replied softly, breaking free from his thoughts. “Would you join me for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” you told him and followed on behind the king. You noticed his eyes surveying the area where the queen was. Maybe hoping she wouldn’t notice him slip away with another woman?

Thorin guided you down an empty hall and you instantly recognised the room he was taking you into: the council chambers. No one would have been in there at this time of night.

Your heart was racing in excitement and anticipation. To be alone with him again, to hear his voice.

“I need to tell you before it consumes me,” Thorin gasped, closing the doors to the chambers behind him. “It’s ripped me apart from the inside every day since I watched you get married.”

You knew what he was about to say and dashed to him, taking his hands. “I love you, too,” you said, looking at him, your eyes filling with tears. “I’ve loved you for so long. And it’s killing me each day having to live a life that I know is a lie.”

Thorin threw you both into a hot kiss and between gasps and pants, you let your combusting passion guide your movements. That evening, you broke your marriage vows to him you did not love, in favour of the one you did. Thorin pinned you to the table and took you, and he did not disappoint. Many times you had to bite your lip to stop yourself calling too loud and gaining unwanted attention.

When Thorin withdrew from you, he placed his head on your chest and closed his eyes. “My heart is yours. It will be forever,” he whispered. You brushed your hand through his hair and kissed his brow. Tears fell down your cheeks as you thought on all the cold nights that awaited you. This would be the only night that you would ever feel true warmth.

“Everyone will wonder where we have gone,” you told Thorin reluctantly.

“Just one more moment, my love. Let me imagine it’s our wedding night and we’re happy.”

****

You pondered for many years afterward if Mahal’s will for your life had been altered by the intentions of your father who had arranged your marriage. But the will of Mahal had broken through all the sadness and loneliness, to bring you a son.

Your husband loved your son, doting on him. But in your heart, you knew who had sired the boy. He had black, raven hair which fell in waves and his eyes were pure ocean blue. Even when Thorin had seen him, an expression of realisation and shock washed over the king’s features. That night you shared with the king was never spoken of, nor was the true siring of your son. In your son’s features, posture and personality was a king that would never be.

Your son and that night you shared with the king, would always remain the pinnacle of all Erebor’s treasures and the gifts that Thorin could give you.

****

Main tag list: @shikin83 @deepestfirefun @emrfangirl @dabisburntnut @aspookybunny @karlthecat15722 @tigereyesf @swoopswishsward @sunnysidesidra @la-meneur-louve @moony-artnstuff @mama-tole-me-not-2-come @wolfavatar17 @morganofthecoves1 @narnvaeron @hobbitoferebor @meganlpie @thequeenoferebor @mynameisnoneya1991 @jumpingmanatee @xxbyimm @annewoods91 @nowiloveandwilllove @inhabitant-of-the-void @thorinthehottotty @rachel1959 @reinabell @paracosmfantasy @blankdblank @sherala007 @creativelyquestioninglife @c-s-stars @phyreblue @middleearthmama @luna-xial @on-my-way-to-erebor @mariannetora @ruthoakenshield @moonlightnumbsthepainifeel @kimanne723 @sleep-deprived-things @mechromancing-cinnamon-roll @patanghill17 @fxngsfogxarty @msjava1972 @wilhelmya @unadulteratedwizardlove @queenofmankind @tomisbaeholland @moony-artnstuff @underthemoon-n @antigonemorris @valkyrie-of-the-light @downwiththedoorpoole

The Hobbit tag list: @nympha-door-a @rainbow-claw @afiestyfairy12 @finnofamerica

Middle earth tag list: @saviorsong

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @bespectacled-bunny

#thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #fanfiction #imagine #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x fem!reader #thorin x dwarf!reader #arranged marriage #dwarves #dwarves of erebor #post-botfa #tw: infidelity

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legolaslovely · 4 years ago

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Sticks and Stones

A/N: Happy Kíli Ktuesday! It’s been too long since I spent some alone time ;) with this sweetheart. This was not meant to be smutty, but alas! He demanded it. Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for reading!

Thank you to @dreams-of-wander for indulging my Kíli love in our long chats and prompting this Iron Hills journey! <3

Pairing: Kíli x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,338

Warnings/Tags: Rated Explicit, sappy smut, comfort, fluff

Summary: Kíli is welcomed home after a long month away.

Link to this photoset

She did not expect Kíli to make love to her tonight.

He’d returned only yesterday from a four week trip to the Iron Hills. It was more than just a family visit. Kíli was sent alone- as alone as he could be with a full entourage behind him- to discuss extra tariffs on traded goods and tolls on the routes between Erebor and the Iron Hills. He and Fíli agreed that the two realms should have a friendlier relationship between their craftsman and merchants. Dain disagreed and, despite being family and a superb leader of his own people, was incredibly stubborn. Ironfoot indeed. Because of prolonged discussions, the planned week long stay warped into two.

“Then you should have seen the winter storm Mahal threw at us halfway through the journey home,” Kíli had told (Y/N) in their bed the night he’d returned. He only divested details of the trip after two rounds of passionate, bed creaking, linen ruining love making. She wrapped her arms around him as if to warm him from the treacherous gale in his story as he continued.

“You would have loved all the snow, amrâlimê. But it was troublesome- so deep not even the ponies could trudge through it and so heavy no dwarf could clear enough of it to make a hair of headway. The only option was to wait out the storm.” He looked down at her in his arms. “I know you love the snow but I despise it for keeping me from you for so much longer than planned.”

“You’re here now,” she said. “Safe.”

He kissed her. “Safe in your arms, yes.” He relished her laugh as he tucked his head down into her shoulder, playing at the affection he always felt when she held him so close.

The tales and intimacy were expected and welcomed on the night he returned. However, the next night, after weeks of travel, endless early morning council meetings and a late night together, (Y/N) planned to allow Kíli some time and space for some well deserved rest.

He’d left before dawn that morning for the throne room where he, Fíli, Thorin and his advisors would discuss plans for the upcoming spring. Crucial preparations must be carefully made for the busiest time of the year when market days turned into full weeks, trade blossomed, and the heavier hunting season began.

(Y/N) knew there was much to do and yet concern coiled in her gut as she watched the setting sun pass by her window. She ate supper alone. That’s what she would tell Kíli, but truthfully, she only nibbled, unable to shift her thoughts from what her love must be doing. Had he any chance to eat today? Or was he too distracted by laws and finances and resources to notice his nauseous stomach rumbling? She set most of her own dinner aside for him in the ice box to eat if he so desired when he returned.

She lit the candles alone. She bathed alone. It was as if Kíli had never returned.

She did not, however, turn down the bed. Instead she sat on the neatly made furs and caught up on some reading. She would tell Kíli exactly that- she was so invested and distracted by this incredible book that she couldn’t bear to close it and sleep. She would not tell him that she refused to lie in their bed one more night without him, that it was too cold and too lonely. She’d simply wait for him and ignore how weak it all made her feel.

It felt as if hours had passed and she had turned the page of her book just twice. She’d memorized the first sentence of one of the paragraphs after reading it over and over again when she caught her mind wandering.

She read of birds. She thought of a raven. Raven hair she twisted and tied back every morning, clasping it with a silver courting bead. Stubborn dark locks that fell over eyes like feathers- never blocking, only framing. Rough stubble that scratched her cheeks and fingertips. Curls that traveled over porcelain skin and peeked around clothes and tickled her nose.

She read about castles. She thought of protection. A sharp mind and strong body that fought to keep its people safe from any threat in or outside of the realm’s borders. Broad chest and tapered back that held a bow string taught with enough resistance to speed straight through a warg’s skull. Arms that surrounded her, holding his body just above hers for long hours of the night and into the morning.

It was when she read about music that she closed her book, but the thoughts crept through the cracks in her worn shield and attacked her heart and pulled at her core. Belly laughs that shook his entire body, morning growls about early meetings that could rival a grizzly’s, soft hums and content sighs that celebrated her name.

She rolled off the bed in defeat and replaced the book on the shelf.

“What are you doing awake?”

Kíli was standing in the doorway. He’d had a silent entrance, careful not to wake his love, but the effort was all for nothing. She wasn’t asleep.

“I was just going to bed,” she said, extinguishing some of the candles. “I was reading.” She watched him fold his robes over the chair by his desk and kick his boots to the side. He crossed the floor to her like a sweet predator.

“And what have you been reading?” he asked. His cheek met hers, warmly scratching, and his arms wrapped around her waist. He kissed her neck as she spoke.

“I could have been reading the story of your life with how often my thoughts strayed to you.”

The cool tip of his nose drew a well worn trail up to her ear. “And my council notes could have had your portrait drawn on them with how often I dreamed of your lips. And your cheeks, your nose, your eyes.” He landed light pecks on every feature as he said the words. “I could think of nothing else.”

“Kíli-” Her admonishing faltered when his hands fell to her bottom. She drew away, taking his face in her hands. “You look exhausted, my love.”

“Thank you. And you look absolutely gorgeous.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Do I?” he asked between kisses. “Because I’ve taken offence. And now you must find a way to seek forgiveness.”

“Kíli-”

“I have a few ideas if you’re lacking.”

She pushed at his chest. “Sit on the bed, you insatiable heathen.”

He gave her a short laugh, though she longed to hear more from him. “Throwing more sticks and stones. Is this how you beg for forgiveness?” He took off his trousers with no further suggestion from her and settled on the bed where she herself was sitting only moments ago, longing for exactly this.

“A lady never begs.” She shed her winter robe, leaving only her soft, thin nightgown to somewhat cover her.

He watched her crawl across the furs to him. “Oh, how easily you forget your words from just last night. ‘Please, Kíli, please, m-’ ”

She kissed him if only to shut him up. Kíli pulled her into his lap, draping her legs over either side of him while his rough fingertips caught on the gown around her hips. She immediately discarded his tunic, leaving him completely bare under her, but Kíli took his time with her covering.

For a few moments, he enjoyed the thin wall between his thumbs and her peaked nipples, the barely there curtain between her skin and his. He could feel her warmth even through the gown. The thought that he could take it off whenever he wanted was a satisfying thrill until she shifted and the hem tickled and teased his full erection. It made him twitch and it was then that he noticed her lack of underclothes and abundance of arousal.

He growled her name, bunching the fabric in his fists. He whipped the barrier between them away and even before his hands could return to her, his cock was completely sheathed inside her.

She kissed him through his moan before gently pushing him down to lay back in the pillows. “Relax, my love.”

He fought her. “Amrâlimê, do not make the mistake in thinking I am ever too tired for you.”

“Am I not allowed to admire my own heathen while I make love to him?” She led him down again, this time leaving marks with her lips and teeth along his jaw, neck, and chest. At this new angle, she was able to pay special attention to the tip of Kíli’s length. She teased him the way she knew he loved best: only allowing his soft, wide head in and out of her folds as she kissed, touched, and caressed every inch of the dwarf she cherished.

Kíli, though he savored the attention, the feeling of being treasured, could not take this teasing for long. He thrust up into her, desperate for more, and who was she to deny him? She sat back on him, taking him as deeply as she could, curling her hands into his belly at the sensation. So full.

But it was Kíli’s expression of desire that sent bolts of arousal through her. This was the face she’d dreamed of all the weeks he was in the Iron Hills. Eyes like pools of ink on the pages of her books. Ravens, castles, and music all before her, right at her fingertips. She stared. Watched as she moved on him and felt his hands reach and tease and knead and caress. Though she set out to be the lover tonight, Kíli always managed to make her feel adored.

His ministrations led her to the edge and neatly pushed her over it. He sat up before her- closer- and she clung to him, using every ounce of strength and determination to continue moving on him. Her walls strangled his cock and her kiss took his breath, but it was her emotion that led him to the highest of peaks. His body contracted and shivered, but he managed to lift her from his length and wrap her hand around his throbbing member.

“Please, amrâlimê, make me come,” he ground out.

She stained his neck with her mark and whispered words of praise and encouragement as she stroked him to completion. Even with her forehead pressed to his skin, she watched his claim on her spatter over her hand and both their bodies. She tenderly wrung him dry and kissed his skin as he glued his body to hers and trusted her to keep him upright. Heavily lidded eyes watched her lick her fingers clean.

“Amrâlimê,” he said, breathless.

“Yes, my love?”

“I forgive you your name calling.”

“Good.” She moved off the bed, ignoring his grabbing and slipping hands. Her legs were wobbly and her knees sore and tired. She chuckled at herself, waving away Kíli’s concerned noise.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Do not move,” she said, swiping more come off her belly. “I won’t have those furs ruined all because I couldn’t turn the bed down. Stop moving!”

“Wha- (Y/N), it is not your job to clean up my mess.”

She left anyway, ducking into the washroom to dunk a cloth into the basin. “The mess that I made, thank you very much.”

She heard him laugh. “Yes.”

As she crossed the cool floor of the chambers, the patter of her feet cued Kíli to open his eyes. They barely obeyed him and drooped like an old hound’s. Now that she wasn’t distracted by the desire there, she noticed the dark circles just above his cheeks. Since she and Kíli began their courting, she’d learned to dread the coming of spring. This was the time of year Kíli’s sense of duty came before any inkling of self care.

She reached for him, but his hand stopped the cloth from touching his skin. Before he could say anything, she cursed him. “Will you just sit there and let me do this for you? You’re so exhausted you look like the undead. You look like Thorin.”

His eyes blew wide and looked more like they actually belonged to him. “How dare you?”

“It’s true!” she laughed. “And these days you’re getting more and more like him, you stubborn thing!” She pinned his hands down the best she could and swiped away the stickiness. When she was done, Kíli threw the cloth in the general direction of the washroom and pulled her body over his and onto the bed in a flourish.

“Good gracious, amrâlimê! As soon as you clear the slate, you insult me again. How will you make it up to me this time?”

“I will think.”

“It better be good.” He kissed her.

“Well, it will only happen after you get some rest and I’m much too lazy to turn the bed down now, so you’d better get used to sleeping on furs.”

“Good thing you kept them clean, then,” Kíli said, pulling one of the heavier blankets over them both and taking (Y/N) in his arms again. “I was surprised to see you hadn’t climbed in bed yet. I know how you enjoy reading under the covers when it’s cold like this.”

She hummed.

“Why didn’t you?”

She deflated, feeling as pitiful as she did when Kíli first went away and left her in their bed alone. “You weren’t here.”

Under her head, she felt his chest freeze as his breath caught. Then he rolled over her and ran his fingertips down her cheek. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”

She made a show of a sigh. “Yes. But it’s been hours since.”

He kissed her. “I love you very much, amrâlimê. Name calling and all.”

“And I love you very much, you stubborn, insatiable heathen.”

***

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