#kíli durin

[tondw0o]

[ambitiouspotions]

DAYBED | KÍLI THE DWARF | ONESHOT

summary — in which kíli’s elven wife is subject to his mouth

word count — 1.5k

warnings — 18+ MDNI, smut

author’s note — i hope you like this little kíli x reader!

two brothers were now the kings of erebor, sharing the glory of their kingdom proudly amongst each other. their late uncle, thorin, had raised them with the duty to protect their loved ones and kin. there was no jealousy or hatred between them as they led the kingdom in unison.

kíli, the younger of the brothers, had grown into quite a fine dwarf. his beard had grown thickets and his hair now had braids and hair cuffs, being earned from his experience and achievements. though even with all his years of drinking and eating, he maintained his fit body unlike his older brother, fíli, who always had a great pudgy belly.

years after becoming king, fíli and kíli had to make an alliance with the elves, against their best judgment, of course. though it worked in their favor, having control of a mineral mine system in the elven land, and the elves control of a portion of the dwarven army if needed. though the alliance caused lots of headaches in the beginning, kíli ended up betrothed to an elven healer.

y/n was gentle and soft-spoken compared to kíli’s extroverted and flirty nature. they completed each other nicely to put things simply.

“what’ve you done this time?” y/n asked massaging the sore muscle kíli had been complaining about the moment he took off his shirt. his face slightly contorted, making her place her hands steadily in one spot.

“practicing with a new axe,” kíli admitted, stretching his arms upwards and groaning in discomfort. y/n brought his arms back down slowly and sat him on their bed. he knew the next step would be her doing her healing. he didn’t bother denying it anymore, knowing she wouldn’t want to take no for an answer.

“you’ve not been listening when i say to stretch before you practice with your weaponry.” y/n’s voice was hushed as she was so close to his ear, though her normal voice wasn’t much louder.

“i understand now,” kíli said, biting his inner cheek as her thumbs worked into his bare muscles.

“always stubborn,” y/n mumbled before leaving the room, having to gather a few supplies to help her beloved. kíli knew better than to move from his spot on the edge of the bed and receive an earful from his wife.

she came back with warm water in a bowl filled with various herbs and an odd-smelling blend of crushed powders. she took the cloth that was laid over her forearm and soaked it in the water. she laid the cloth on his shoulder blade and massaged, feeling her husband move uncomfortably underneath her touch.

“deep breath in,” the elf stated, as kíli inhaled she used a fist to massage instead of only a few fingers as she had before. she felt kíli exhale and left him to sit upright for a few moments before taking off the hot compress and began wrapping a long bandage from his unaffected shoulder, across his pectoral muscle, and over his sore muscle. she continued to wrap until the bandage came to an end.

“an elven witch you be with these methods,” kíli said feeling slightly better. he went to lift his sore arm to grab his shirt from the ground, but the elf put his arm down quickly.

“don’t move it, you need rest,” she said, propping the pillows on their bed so her husband could lay back comfortably. she put his shirt against his chest and patted it gently.

“you’re not done,” the dwarf grabbed her hand before she began putting away her herbal remedies. he grabbed her hand with his uninjured arm, pulling her closer.

y/n eyed her husband and placed a hand gently on his well-maintained chest. he caressed her soft cheek and placed an appreciative kiss on her lips. the elf closed her eyes, taking a moment to savor his lips. as she tried to pull away, kíli intensified the kiss, taking his hand from her cheek to her hip. her silky dress on his calloused hands was very satisfying to the dwarf, enjoying their differences in style. rough and rugged compared to dainty and ethereal. he squeezed her hip, making y/n open her mouth slightly.

the elf, though pleased by kíli’s actions, stopped him. “that would not be considered rest.” she, nudged him back against the pillow.

“but–” kíli, interjected, his wife turning her head swiftly to look at her husband with a stern look. the dwarf instead laid against the pillow.

after two weeks and much daily care for his pulled muscles, y/n released kíli for his full working abilities again. the only reason the dwarf did not go against the elf’s wishes was because he wanted a chance to lay with his wife as quickly as possible.

y/n lay lounging on the day bed in the sun. the warm light filled the room shining down on the she-elf. her eyes were closed as she basked in the sun, her entire body relaxed. she did not move when she heard kíli’s footsteps enter the sunroom. her sharp, pointed ears could pick up on even the smallest noises.

“the drops of sun add to your beauty,” he said, approaching and sitting next to her on the long sofa.

“i suppose,” y/n said, sighing in relief as she felt his hand run along her thigh. her eyes didn’t open due to the bright light, feeling the mild glow from the natural lighting.

kíli began to slowly lift her dress above her knee and catch a glimpse of her panties. his hand trailed from her kneecap down to her foot. he only wanted to take in every inch of her body and appreciate it after the few weeks he was unable to properly use his arm.

y/n allowed her husband to continue his touches, her hands resting on his chest, waiting in anticipation of his next move. he placed his hand against the front of her panties and tilted his head to look at the relaxed nature of his wife.

the elf adjusted her shoulder blades into the couch and swallowed. feeling her panties being dragged off she opened her eyes curiously. “what are you doing?” she asked, her dress being placed onto her stomach.

“taking care of you,” kíli stated, spreading her legs by taking his hand slowly and parting them, his head diving down. “you always take care of me,” kíli meant that in more ways than just one. his mind was occupied with the thoughts of temptation in front of him.

y/n moaned in agreement, feeling the dwarf’s tongue linger on her thighs before kissing the space right above her clit. kíli’s head was soon buried in her heat, paying extra attention to her clit. suckling, lapping, and gently pulling at it with his lips trying to coerce her into moaning. the elf, who was sighing quietly, had her hands laced in his dark hair and was attempting to lift her hips to meet his mouth.

kíli was holding her firmly to the daybed, still wanting to have a sense of control over y/n. his head was fully immersed in her cunt. the wetness, spreading onto his beard and chin, only gave him more motivation to continue his pleasure. he lifted her legs over his shoulders and spread her asscheeks. he wanted a larger area to continue his naughty antics.

he occasionally would shake his head so his tongue would enter her wet hole. moving up and down, occasionally teasing her asshole as he licked. his normally quiet wife was spewing moans that echoed in the mostly empty sunroom. her eyes were tightly shut as groaned in complete and utter fulfillment.

kíli was enjoying the taste of her cunt like an indecent delicacy. when he was too involved in darting his tongue across her many folds, y/n managed to raise her hip, forcing him to be enveloped further in her heat. the dwarf was startled at this quick movement, causing him to moan into her sloppy wetness.

his hairy forearm laid across her stomach, pushing her back down only so he could breathe better and continue the hungry motions against her most intimate area. the elf groaned with frustration at being forced down. the only grip she had on reality was the one in kíli’s hair. she was panting needily, kíli not aiding in the situation by exploiting her cunt.

the moment he went back to her clit, the elf felt her stomach tighten, her walls contracting over and over from the recognition given to her clit. coming down from her high, kíli buried his face again, lapping her folds before y/n released his thick hair from its tight hold and threw her head back.

kíli laid his head on her thigh, wiping his mouth and beard. the elf, having been vocal for so long, cleared her throat.

the two quietly layed on the daybed until the sunlight faded due to the clouds covering it.

[ironmandeficiency]

fíli: we should appreciate the smaller things in life

kíli, patting bilbo on the head: i appreciate you

bilbo:

bilbo: you better sleep with one eye open tonight

[pilkypills]

Kili’s micro-expressions during the “We are sons of Durin” scene are SO. AUGH. MY GOD. The unsure look in his eyes. The lip wobble. The scrunch in his nose when Thorin gently headbutts him. My god he was just a kid. Just a boy who wanted to do the right thing.

[steponmetommi]

Can we talk about Thorin in An Unexpected Journey? The way in which he looked out at the scenery around him while in the background Balin told the story of Moria and Azog to Bilbo, Fíli, and Kíli?

You cannot tell me this isn’t the face of someone thinking “Yup, I’m THAT bitch”

Like look at him here, he’s just so cunty, I love him so much.

[fili-urzudel]

Jumbled - Kíli Durin x Reader

A proper, full-length fic featuring our favorite little brother! I'm not the most proud of this but it's finished and I think I should put it out there. No one requested this, but it's to tide you over until I put the finishing touches on the last few requests :)

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: a lot of being oblivious and dumb, but other than that we're good.

There were no words to describe Kíli Durin. That's what you were thinking as the top of your quill lightly brushed your bottom lip, gazing out the inn's drawing room window. This was the last town you would all stop in for a long while, and those of you with families had made the choice to write letters to your families back home as quickly as possible. You told them how you were doing, that you were tired but making progress and eating well, and keeping good company among thirteen dwarves and a hobbit.

You told them a bit about Bilbo and his odd little ways that you found quite endearing, if not annoying at times, and about Glóin, and his unabashed love and pride in his family. You told them about the golden-haired Prince Fíli, who was always a gentleman and had fast become your friend. You told them how Thorin was usually a big grump, but you had seen evidence from time to time, usually in relation to Bilbo, that it was all just a front. But the one dwarf you wanted to tell them about, you found yourself tongue—er, pen-tied over.

There were no right words to describe how you felt about Kíli Durin. Perfect wouldn't really do him justice, with his uneven bangs and his dazzling lopsided smile and stubbly beard that he cursed to the end of his days. Neither would ethereal, with the way his scent of pine sap and the feel of the callouses on his hands were so very grounded and real. Princely didn't fit his flippant attitude and his unceasing laugh and his never-ending jokes that had your lungs cramping at times.

Perhaps the real problem was that there wasn't enough paper.

You sent the letter off without writing exactly what you wanted about the soon-to-be prince of Erebor, save for his best wishes to any female member of your household. He didn't think you would write it down, but there was just enough room for a postscript. That would show him.

And before you knew it, you were on your way again. You readjusted your pack on your shoulders as Fíli dropped back to walk beside you. "I don't suppose you confessed your undying love in that letter by any chance?"

You blushed and nudged him with your elbow, too untrusting of your own balance to attempt kicking him. "Do you have to be so loud?"

"I can assure you it's all lost in the thunderous stomping, my friend," he smiled. "But that's probably for the best. Better for the object of your affections to know first, don't you think?"

"Stop trying to push it, Fíli," you groaned. "I already feel horrible for avoiding him for so long. I just... I can't be normal around him anymore, I—I don't know how to get the words out. This is all... so weird."

Fíli gave you a pointed glance. "If you're worried about him rejecting you, there's no way in all of Arda."

"Is that verified intelligence?"

"I'm his brother."

"Fair enough. I'll try."

"Tonight?"

"...Soon."

You didn't even have to approach the prince that evening, as he sought you out to have supper with. "Hello," you said with a nervous smile, scooting to make sure there was plenty of room for him on the log you had claimed. I hope he doesn't think I'm trying to get away from him.

"Hey," he returned a bright grin. "I just figured I'd better take my chance to spend some time with you while I can. We never seem to be near each other anymore."

"Hah, yeah," you answered awkwardly. "Sorry about that."

"Have you been avoiding me?" He asked, suddenly serious.

"What?" You asked with wide eyes, horrified. You looked to Fíli, sitting just a few yards away, and he gave you a look that said, just tell him.

"No—no, I wasn't trying to avoid you at all, it's just, you see, well—" gods you were a mess—you sighed. "I just realized, fairly recently, that I'm... in love, and it's made it hard to focus. I'm sorry if I was avoiding you."

That was a terrible confession by any standard.

Rather than looking relieved or hopeful, Kíli looked... pained. Almost angry, and Kíli was never angry. "Oh. I'm happy for you," he said flatly, before picking up his stew and heading elsewhere. He took a seat near Dwalin and Thorin, silently listening to their intense conversation.

You gave a desperate look to Fíli again, and he just shrugged. "I'll try to talk to him," he mouthed, and you nodded in gratitude.

You spent the rest of the evening in silence.

You loved Fíli. Of course, you loved Fíli, Kíli thought as he wandered the outskirts of camp, kicking a rock from one boot to another. Just one look at the two of them could have predicted that clearly enough. He was tall but broad, properly muscular for a dwarf. He had thick, curly hair and enough braids to make Thorin jealous. He had a full beard. He forged enough knives to supply an army and carried half of them on his person.

What did Kíli have compared to that? Bangs he had cut for himself on impulse so that people would have something else to look at instead of his pathetic excuse for a beard? A small game bow that was useless when anything came up close? A sword that he needed help to make?

There was no contest, really. Even if Fíli was engaged, what would that do to stop anyone from seeing his merits?

"You're sure he didn't say anything? Didn't make any significant noises or... grunts or anything?" You asked, on the verge of tears. It had been three days since your terrible confession, and Kíli hadn't so much as glanced your way.

"Nothing. He hasn't said anything to me since, either," Fíli said dejectedly.

There were only two explanations: he had horribly misunderstood you, or he knew you were in love with him and was so disgusted by the concept that he decided to avoid you entirely. As foolish as it was, you were inclined to believe the latter.

"What about what I said would make him hate me?" You murmured.

"Hey now, he may be giving you the cold shoulder, but he does not hate you. Kíli's not like that. You'd have to do something terrible, like... kill me, to get him to hate you," Fíli assured you.

That drew a short laugh from you, and you rubbed your nose on the back of your hand. "I hope you're right," you sighed. "I just wish he would at least look at me."

That night, like the previous two, you sat away from the fire, holding your soup close to your body to stay warm, despite Balin's many good-natured attempts to get you to join them. If Kíli didn't want to be near you, you wouldn't force him.

It was still light out when you decided to lay out your bedroll for the evening, the sun just starting to dip behind the trees. Apparently Thorin had decided you all needed the extra rest.

You glanced up at the sound of footsteps, and your eyes were met with boots. Kíli's boots. "Kíli!" You said, surprising yourself with how... shocked your voice was.

"Are you alright?" He asked, and though he sounded concerned, there was a hardness to his eyes. "People who are in love don't normally appear so sad."

"Well, they do when the object of their affections makes it so clear that they are not interested," you replied glumly. "You don't have to pretend—"

He made a frustrated sort of huff, and you looked up at him in confusion. He had never made a sound like that. "I am sorry for your heartbreak, but forgive me if it frustrates me as well. It is clear to all the world by his disposition, his words, and most importantly, his braids, that my brother is taken. He has promised himself in marriage to a dam he loves, and there is nothing my brother is if not loyal. And I can understand his appeal, but have I not also been a friend? Have I not also tried to be kind and—and charming and gentlemanly and make you laugh? I am not my brother but I would like to think I have my own merits so why are you lovesick over him when I am right here?"

You gazed at him with wide eyes, a smile breaking across your face. "You... think that I love your brother?"

Kíli's brow furrowed. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Fíli! Kíli has declared me hopelessly in love with you!" You shouted, and the golden prince unceremoniously spat out a spray of his soup, narrowly missing Nori.

By this time you were full-out laughing, and everyone in the company was staring at you, especially Thorin.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" Kíli asked, all the hardness having vanished from his eyes.

"Kíli, I may have been... fantastically terrible at saying this, and I'm sorry for that, but I was trying to say that I'm in love with you," you explained, taking his hands.

"You're... in love with me?" He breathed hopefully.

"I love you, Kíli, and if your recent outburst was any indication, I'm feeling very optimistic about my chances of you loving me as well," you confirmed.

"But—but I'm short and uncouth and—and I can't grow a proper beard—"

"You were just touting your many good qualities, and I agree with those more," you teased.

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"I love you too," he finally admitted. "May I kiss you?"

"You may."

[mikathemonster]

"scholars and skillets"

author's note: here I am after so long, with yet another THAUC pic to bring you all, thanks to @fellowshipofthefics ! it's definitely shorter than last year's, but I love it all the same. my partner (@AnnArtThing on instagram) also made an insanely gorgeous art piece for this, which i will feature below!! we truly hope you enjoy this collaboration!

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-Neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 5596

summary: when you're tasked with helping prepare a certain dwarven prince for his brother's accession to the throne, you're quick to discover he is not at all how you envisioned he would be…

content warnings: fluff :)

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

You sneezed from the sheer amount of dust in the library. Between the cobwebs, ash and grime that littered the shelves and texts before you, your trusty duster truly had its work cut out for it. Covering your face with your sleeve this time, you continued your job of cleaning the recently excavated room. It would take some time, but you were determined to have this place spotless by the end of the month.

“We found some more books we need organized,” a voice called, and your attention was snapped away from your cleaning.

“Hm?” You asked, seeing it was Balin and Ori, arms full of heavy scripts. “Oh, place them over there and I’ll see to it myself.”

The dwarves did as you instructed and made their way to the nearby table, albeit with a few hefty grunts from Ori. The moment they set the books down, dust scattered everywhere, ensuing a fit of sneezing and coughing from all three of you.

“It’s never ending!” Ori complained.

You covered your mouth as you let out a rather dusty cough. “Trust a dragon to leave such a mess!”

“Aye, and a dead one at that.” Balin sighed. “I’ll get some more help for this room by tomorrow.”

“That would certainly be much appreciated,” you said.

“If it meant there would be this much work, I would have never found this room.” Ori groaned, wiping down a chair before sitting in it.

“There’s always work to be done, Ori,” Balin chided. “And moping about won’t get it done.”

“Still, I’m grateful that you did find it,” you chimed in. “It’s a lot to do, but these are some of the oldest recorded texts of Erebor. We’re standing in a room of nothing but history!”

“Well it’s rather dusty history for now,” Ori frowned.

“Well, laddie, if you won’t help, why don’t you go find someone who will? Hm?” Balin raised a brow as he ushered Ori out, who begrudgingly left.

You watched the younger dwarf leave with a frown on his face, now standing alone with Balin in a certainly awkward silence.

“Is he alright?” You asked with a concerned tone. 

“He’s still just a boy,” Balin sighed, leaning on the table. “But I suppose it doesn’t help that he’s been Thorin’s scribe all week.”

“Is that not your job?”

“It usually is,” he nodded. “But it’s high time he began learning the more difficult parts of the trade. Following the King around is no easy task.”

“But why not you? I have my belief in Ori, sure, but to have him take on this role at such a time as this?” 

“I suggested it.” Balin smiled. “He’ll have to learn hands-on somehow, with the ascension coming up with the next moon. We’ve only thirty days from now.”

“But I worry about him,” you frowned. “It’s a much heavier workload than he’s used to. Surely he could’ve started learning after the Crown Prince takes his title?”

Balin sat down in Ori’s chair, motioning for you to join him. Abandoning your duster with a sigh, you reluctantly took a seat.

“I remember when you first arrived,” Balin said. “You were so young–”

“I recall being entirely grown,” you interrupted.

Balin waved you off. “When you’ve lived a life such as mine, everyone is young.”

You let out a soft chuckle, leaning back in your chair.

“As I was saying,” he began again. “You could barely manage on your own. Being under my wing certainly helped, of course, but you were a fickle thing. You’re no dwarf, either; you couldn’t even speak our language when we first met.”

Unaware of where he was going with this, you tried to defend yourself, feeling belittled. “I was well enough to lend a helping hand. This library wouldn’t even be complete if it hadn’t been for me. And my khuzdul is much better than it used to be!”

“Aye, and if it hadn’t been for those texts you found in the ruins of Dale, I doubt we would’ve ever met.” He drew in a breath. “What I’m trying to say is that we all start somewhere.” 

He put a hand on your shoulder, giving a warm smile. “For you, it was those books. For Ori, it was the journey that got us here. And now that we’re finally picking ourselves back up from the wreckage, it’s time that both of you fill into your roles.”

“And what have we been doing this entire time?” You said.

“Well, just a wee bit of practice, I suppose.” He teased. “Now it’s time for the real work. The royal work.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call dusting ‘royal’, but–”

“That’s not what I mean, dear.” He interrupted.

“I don’t understand–”

“I’m having you help prepare one of the princes for the ascension ceremony.”

You gave a double take, now at a loss for words. This was entirely out of your realm. You were just a scribe, a scholar. You were certainly no royal advisor, let alone for dwarven royalty.

“Balin, I’m not even a dwarf.” You started.

“I’m sure he won’t hold that against you,” Balin chuckled. “And, don’t worry, I’ve already gone through the proper channels to get you this job.”

“With the King? Thorin Oakenshield is aware of this?”

“Aye, even he,” Balin nodded. “It took some convincing, but there’s no other I would ask for such a thing. Other than his mother, but Dís has got her hands full already.”

“No other? Balin, we’ve only known each other for a few years now!”

“And in that time, you’ve proven yourself time and time again that you’re someone I can trust.”

You took a breath, settling yourself with this new information. You had only been working under Balin for a little under three years after helping restore some dwarven texts. Without Ori or Balin, you always felt out of your depth. Sure, you did your best to manage on your own, but growing up in Lake-Town, Erebor and its culture and customs had fallen to story and legend before you had become a scholar in their studies. 

“What exactly will I be doing?”

“Thorin’s nephews are finally ready to take their places in the royal court. But while Fíli is preparing to be announced as Crown Prince, there’s a certain amount of duties that get passed along to Kíli.” Balin explained. “It’ll be your job to assist me in discussing and preparing him for those duties.”

“And what would those duties be?”

“I’m getting there, aren’t I?” Balin frowned.

You bit your tongue, now giving him the floor instead of asking him more questions. 

Balin sighed, seeing the anxiety written all over you. “Are you afraid?”

“It’s just… I don’t know if I… That’s a lot of pressure, don’t you think? I just don’t believe I’m qualified.”

Balin rose from his seat, now standing in front of you with both hands on your shoulders. You looked at your mentor with worried eyes as he did his best to reassure you with his own warm gaze. The candle on the dusty table flickered, the light reflecting in his dark eyes, full of kindness.

“Y/N, you’ve proven yourself to be one of my fastest learners. I see the way you work to restore this library as if it were your own. You know our history, you’ve read it yourself.” 

“Only for the last few years-”

“And nobody will hold it against you. I will be there to help, of course. You won’t be entirely on your own, and I’ll teach you everything.” 

What Balin had chosen to omit was that Thorin Oakenshield wouldn’t have allowed you to be Kíli’s only advisor. You may have been a scholar, but you were no dwarf. But Balin knew better than to mention that.

“I have no doubt that you’re the perfect candidate for the job.”

You still didn’t know if you believed him, but you knew you believed in him. And for now, that would have to be enough. You gave him a small nod and smile as a sign that you were listening.

“Aye, there they are,” he smiled. “Come, I’ll show you everything you’ll need to do before you start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You rose out of your seat. “But what about the library?”

“There’s always someone we can put to work. Besides, it doesn’t take much to clean a dusty shelf.”

“Easy for you to say; I’ve been at it all morning!”

Balin began walking away, waving an arm as he expected you to follow him. Reluctantly, you finally gave in. It seemed today was going to be a long one.

Long was an incredible understatement. You hadn’t been a coffee-drinker before this, but suddenly you were three cups deep without any sleep as you stood next to Balin outside of the prince’s door. All you could think about were the copious amounts of notes you had taken overnight.

“It’s all been a bit bureaucratic lately, with the salvaging process,” Balin had said last night while handing you three enormously thick books. “But the old ways are all written down in here. For now, it’s best to study what you can before you meet the prince.”

You had been under the impression he would teach you all of this, but he had insisted you read some of it first. You had taken vigorous notes, doing your best to commit as much of it to memory as you could, but even now your brain felt like a soupy muddled mess as Balin knocked three times on the oaken door in front of you.

It was still early in the morning, a time Balin had insisted on, and the halls of Erebor were only just beginning to sound with their typical business and hustle.

You felt utterly spent and still completely unprepared. It was like cramming for a class you had never taken. You still weren’t even convinced you were the right person for the job. Even though Balin had explained you would be taking more of an assistant’s role to him, you felt wildly out of your league. 

A sigh escaped you as you watched Balin knock on the door again.

He gave you a once-over followed by a frown. “Y/N, I told you that you needed rest.”

“I wanted to be prepared, I’ll be fine.” You shook your head.

“Prepared is one thing, but it’s only your first day. You look miserable.” He knocked on the door again, casting a worried look to you. “Why don’t you go get yourself something to eat? I can take care of this for a little while before you join us.”

“This is important, I don’t want to miss anything,” you frowned.

“You’ll miss more if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Balin, I promise I’ll be alright.” You insisted on staying, much to Balin’s dismay.

He let out a sigh, knowing you were just as stubborn as his brother. 

“Alright, I trust you. But I’m a little concerned.” He turned back to the door, now annoyed as he knocked for the third time. “Kíli, wake up before I go in there myself.”

A loud groan sounded through the wooden door followed by silence before it eventually opened, revealing a very tired dark-haired prince. His hair was mussed and tangled and some of it was stuck to his mouth. His eyes could barely stay open as he was still coming to life. And to top it all of, he was still in his sleepwear, which was oversized and hanging off of his shoulder as he leaned against the door.

“Balin, I thought we said we’d do this in the afternoon,” he groaned, still groggy with sleep.

Balin frowned, unamused. “I told you we would be here at sunrise. You said you’d be awake.”

“I lied,” he shot a lazy grin before looking over at you. “And who’s this?”

“This is Y/N, they’re helping me with preparing-”

“Oh, so you’re the librarian!” Kíli smiled, seemingly remembering who you were. Which was strange, because you two had never met. And you certainly wouldn’t call yourself a librarian.

“I’m sorry?” You raised a brow.

“Ori told me about you, he said you tend to that room he found?”

“Oh, right. Yes, I have been in charge of that…” You nodded. He wasn’t technically wrong, but you tended to align yourself more with the term of scholar rather than librarian. 

“Listen, Kíli,” Balin interjected. “Get yourself settled, we’re on a busy schedule for today.”

Kíli groaned again and you came to realize that he was not matching the image of him you had conjured up in your head. It was hard to believe that this lazy dwarf was the same Prince who had joined Balin on his journey to Erebor.

“Alright, alright. Give me a few minutes, I’ll get dressed.” He shut the door on both of you and you couldn’t hide the frown on your face.

“Is he usually like this?” You asked Balin, keeping as delicate a tone as possible.

“He sleeps like a mountain now that he has a soft bed every night,” Balin sighed. “But he’s never been a morning person. In any case, now we can get started.”

You nodded in response, choosing to withhold any opinions you currently had about the younger Prince of Erebor. First impressions could always change, after all. Surely it would serve you better to erase the idea of his lazy behavior from your mind. You didn’t know him personally; perhaps he simply just wasn’t a morning person.

Suddenly the door was open again, this time with a much more well-kept Prince behind it. You had to stop yourself from doing a double take; he looked like an entirely different person to you now.

His brown hair was now smoother and brushed and slightly swept out of his face, save for his bangs. Fine dwarven fabric hung from his shoulders as he stepped outside of his room and you had to stop yourself from staring. His brown eyes seemed much more full of life now that he was finally dressed and his face was clean. Altogether, he suddenly looked a lot more royal than before.

“Well, that took you long enough,” Balin commented.

“Beauty can do that, yes,” Kíli retorted with a rather cheeky smirk. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Well, time waits on no one, much less beauty,” Balin sighed, adjusting his belt as he began trailing away. “Come along now, there’s much to do.”

A few hours passed by and the day quickly became more and more draining, each minute feeling longer than the last. You felt like you were melting into a puddle of exhausted slop with each step you took, your feet sore after how much walking you three had done. Honestly, you were sure you had walked at least seven or eight miles by now. And while it may have been nothing to the likes of Balin or even Kíli, it was truly starting to wear you down. 

It was your own fault, really. You should have taken Balin’s earlier offer to run off and get yourself some food. Or perhaps have gotten a good night’s rest the previous night. You were all out of sorts and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed in yourself. You had been so focused on studying that you had forgotten to take care of yourself, and look where it had gotten you. Balin was right.

By now, Balin had taken the two of you on a tour of sorts, bringing Kíli to important halls and rooms of Erebor while explaining and delegating what new tasks would fall to him once his brother took his role as the Crown Prince. From the throne room to the forges, there was always something new for Kíli to learn or expound upon. Many of his new tasks weren’t all that unfamiliar to him, as his mother had been helping prepare him for this. But as much as you wanted to be present and fully soak up all of this knowledge as Balin’s assistant, you were utterly spent. Your feet felt stiff like bricks as you trudged along behind Kíli and Balin and the dark circles under your eyes were becoming more apparent with each passing hour. Neither of them had noticed your condition until you three were finally alone. 

There you were, in an empty hall of the library while Balin was explaining to Kíli what would be expected of him at the ascension ceremony itself, arms full of a script with pictures depicting a ceremony long past, when your stomach suddenly let out an embarrassingly loud grumble. Your eyes widened and you clutched your stomach in a panic, as if it would somehow muffle the noise. But itt didn’t. 

You were horrified. Speechless, even. Balin sighed, leaving Kíli confused as to why something as trivial as this would even warrant a reaction.

“Y/N…” Balin said. “If you need to eat, I’m sure I can handle him myself.”

Kíli scoffed, slightly offended at his words. “Well, you’re the one who’s been going nonstop without any break. I would be hungry too!”

“And are you?” Balin raised an unamused brow.

All eyes were on Kíli as he looked down, almost embarrassed to admit defeat.

“...Yes.”

Balin set the book down on the table beside him, running a hand to his temple. You frowned, not liking his annoyed demeanor, but in truth it was all directed at Kíli.

“Well then, I suppose we can take a short break. I’ll be up in the Archives for now. Return in an hour after you properly feed yourselves.”

“An hour? What’s the rush?” Kíli’s jaw dropped, appalled at the idea of a quick meal.

“I won’t give you any royal treatment, Kíli,” Balin countered. “We’re far past formalities.”

“Aw, come on, even a normal person would want more time. I might be technically royal but–”

“Aye, and a royal pain at that,” Balin sighed. “Two hours. And then I want you both back and ready to get to work.”

You nodded eagerly, grateful even for the first hour. “And we will, of course. Thank you.”

“We’ll be back before you know it!” Kíli chimed in.

Balin rolled his eyes, waving you two off as he began his own journey up to the Archives of the library. You watched him go before turning to exit, planning on going to your room to cook when suddenly a hand tapped your shoulder; you turned to see Kíli now throwing you a grin.

“Come on, let’s go,” He motioned to the exit with his head.

“I was going–” You tried to explain but were quickly cut off.

“To eat by yourself?”

“Well I have–”

“Come on; we’ve only got so much time and we haven’t had any to get to know each other.”

You pursed your lip, not feeling too keen to have your plans derailed. But it didn’t feel right to decline a royal, even one as childish as him.

“I wanted to cook at home.”

“Even better! Home-cooked meals are the best!”

You sighed. He would not give in.

“I don’t know if I have enough in my pantry to share…” You tried your best to give one last excuse, but he was quicker.

“How about I grab some of my own food and meet you at your house? We can combine the ingredients and make something delicious.”

For a silent moment, you could only look at his stupid grin while you weighed your options. But you weren’t averse to more food being offered and he clearly didn’t seem to take any negative answer.

“Fine.” You caved. “But please be quick about it. I don’t want to waste this time waiting on you and I mean that as politely as possible.”

He chuckled at your politely rude comment, leaving the library first to what you assumed was his own home.

One hurried walk later, you had finally gotten home and begun preparing your meal. All you had left were some vegetables from your weekly visit to the market and some rice. Rather good options to be stuck with, if you thought about it. It seemed a delicious stir fry would be your meal today.

Quickly, you got to work on cleaning your vegetables, a mixture of squash and greens, before chopping them up in your kitchen. A heavy knock sounded at your door and you set your cutting knife down to go answer it. 

You swung the door open and soon reality hit you. Kíli, one of Erebor’s Princes, was standing outside your front door holding a clothed bundle of something and you had no idea how he had gotten here. 

“I don’t recall telling you where I live,” you said aloud, but softly as though it was supposed to only be heard by your ears. 

“Ori told me,” Kíli explained. “And that’s not usually how you answer the door, if I remember.”

His wit snapped you out of your reverie and you quickly allowed him inside. But you weren’t exactly thrilled at his news. 

“And why did Ori tell you where I live, if I may ask?”

“You may.” He chuckled at that comment. You didn’t find it funny. He quickly realized that. 

“It came up when we were discussing Balin’s newest pupil. Ori mentioned how you had been living here for quite some time when I said how far the traveling was from here to Dale.” 

You sighed, nodding. “You thought I was from Dale.”

It made sense, after all. You weren’t a dwarf. 

“A stupid comment on my behalf, truly,” he tried to save the conversation, finally revealing what he had in his hands. “I hope these will add to whatever you’re already preparing.”

You looked down to see thick cut bacon and a sealed bottle of ale. The good stuff too, this was definitely higher quality than you were used to. You could already feel your mouth salivating at the idea of such a tasty meat in your stir fry. A small bit of ale would also enhance the flavor and even add some new ones. 

“These are actually very promising,” you said, once again aloud but more so to yourself. Still, he heard you. 

“That’s what I was hoping for.” He smiled up at you. “So what are we making?”

You walked past him, now making your way back to your kitchen. He followed suit, albeit after removing his shoes. That seemed to be one of his few redeeming qualities. 

“I have the rice cooking now, but I need to finish cutting the vegetables and get the bacon cooking so it’s ready to be added by the time the rice is done.”

“Sounds great! How can I help?”

You froze for a moment, now realizing there was another living being in your kitchen. This wasn’t exactly a common situation for you. In fact, you liked your cooking how you liked your work in the library: alone. 

But who would you be to tell a Prince that? And especially a Prince who had brought over such fine ingredients… You were caught between a rock and a hard place, and it was time to make a choice. 

Gingerly, you stepped farther from the chopping block and closer to your hearth. You only had two hours to eat; it only made sense to let him help. 

“You can cut everything and I will cook it.” You nodded as you spoke, as if you were still trying to get yourself on board with the idea. You honestly couldn’t recognize if it was working or not, but Kíli was happy to lend a helping hand. And quite ready to get started too, as his hunger was starting to get to him. 

“Great, then let’s get started.” He eagerly grabbed the knife, chopping your squash in such an indelicate way that you could do nothing other than watch with eyes wide open, mouth ajar. None of these pieces of squash were the same size. Or even the same shape, for that matter! It was like he was chopping them all willy-nilly without any air of culinary prowess. 

Something inside of you snapped and you knew you had to say something. You couldn’t help it! 

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” You spoke slowly, still processing the horror in front of you. 

Kíli wasn’t exactly thrilled about your attitude, either, but he did his best to dismiss it. “I’m helping… I’m cutting this squash.”

“But you’re not even dicing it—“

“I didn’t know that’s what you wanted.”

“It’s going with rice, I feel as though you should want to cut it smaller.”

“Does it matter? It’s all going to end up being eaten, isn’t it?” His tone was sterner, now getting more upset.

“But it needs to be small enough to blend with the rice,” you countered. “Otherwise it’s rice with squash on the side.”

“These pieces aren’t that big—“

“They’re chunks! They’re chunky, look at them!”

“I’m the one cutting, I’m sure I can clearly see that’s they’re perfectly fine pieces—“

“Have you ever even used a kitchen knife?”

“Have you ever tried letting someone do so before you critique their cutting abilities?!”

And suddenly, a loud grumble rang out from your stomach, effectively shutting the both of you up. You let out a breath, rationalizing with yourself as you realized there was no reason to be this upset at such a tiny thing. You weren’t someone who typically enjoyed sharing your space with a stranger all that much. Being practically starving wasn’t doing you any favors, either. But it was certainly embarrassing. Demeaning, even. Truly, you were hangry. 

You looked away from the Prince in your kitchen, staring blankly at the boiling rice in front of you. A sigh left your lips before you turned back to face him. 

“I’m sorry,” you nodded. “Let’s just work on getting this cooked.”

Kíli nodded, having realized the same thing as you; both of you were hangry and yelling at each other for no reason. 

“I’ll cut them smaller,” he said quietly, referencing the squash. 

You let out a small nod, returning to your pot of boiling rice that you stirred. “Thank you.”

For a while, you two coexisted in the kitchen in silence; Kíli cut the vegetables and the bacon while you added it to a wok for cooking, the sizzle of the ingredients hitting the pan filling the quiet of the room. Without needing to be told, Kíli uncorked the ale, handing it over to you as you tossed a splash into the pan. Steam rose and the smell hit your nostrils with a cozy aroma as the meat and veggies cooked in the pan.

Finally, after adding in the rice and seasoning it to your liking, the dish was done. With a soft smile, you plated the food into two wooden bowls, offering one to Kíli.

“It looks amazing,” he commented. It seemed you had both calmed down some since your argument. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“I just fetched some water yesterday,” you answered. “The cups are in the cupboard.”

He picked up the bottle of ale, still quite full. “There’s also this, if we wanted. What do you say?”

You frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We have to be back in a little more than an hour.”

“Suit yourself,” he said. “But I doubt one glass will hurt anyone.”

You watched as he poured himself a cup before leaving to go sit at your dining table. A part of you would’ve been tempted to have some yourself, but Balin and your empty stomach would disapprove. You would be satisfied with just this; your body needed it.

Kíli joined you at the table with a smile, quite excited to eat. You watched him as he sat down, taking notice of his beauty as he tucked his hair behind his ears. He was very pretty, even by your standards. You wondered how you hadn’t seen it before. But then again, you had been distracted by his laziness and childish mannerisms, not to mention the previous argument.

You two began to eat in silence, sharing a meal in a comfortable quiet that was occasionally broken whenever Kíli would gulp down his ale. For his sake, you hoped he wasn’t a lightweight.

“How much longer do we have?” He asked in between bites.

“An hour, I think?” You shrugged. “It’s probably smart to leave once we’re done.”

“In a rush?”

“I don’t like to keep Balin waiting. I respect him too much for that.”

“I see. You’ve been working with him for a while now, haven’t you?”

You looked up at him, realizing he was actually making conversation. A part of you was surprised, but you didn’t know why.

“It’s been a few years now,” you answered. 

“Do you like it? Working with him, I mean.” Kíli smiled at you, his warm eyes catching the light of the candles on your table. 

It was alluring.

“I do,” you admitted, smiling at the thought. “He’s very kind. And funny, in his old way. He’s taken care of me for a while.”

“Has he?”

“He’s always looking out for me, but he also doesn’t let me shy away from chances where I could grow.” You sighed, looking at your food. “I look up to him a lot.”

“Well,” Kíli took another swig of his drink. “You certainly sound a lot more grateful than Ori does.”

“That can’t be true,” you chuckled. “What does Ori say?”

“It would be easier to list what he doesn’t say,” he joked. “He’s always going on about his workload being too much. He’s either cleaning the library or running around on Balin’s orders.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “He’s just ranting, I’m sure. He can get frustrated rather quickly but we all know he loves his work.”

“He does, it’s true.” Kíli laughed to himself. “He loves working with you, from what I hear.”

“Does he?” You raised a brow, your interest now piqued as you took another bite of food. 

He nodded, chewing his own mouthful before continuing. “Nowadays he’s always talking about how helpful you are to him; he thinks you know the library better than him now. I remember him mentioning you when you two first met, my brother and I could’ve swore he had a crush on you.”

“A crush?” You choked on your food, hitting your chest to clear up before trying to eat again. 

Kíli held back his laughter, bearing a smile so wide it captured the light around you. “Yes, he must have!”

“I highly doubt–”

“He would go on and on about how pretty you were, how you dressed, or you smelled. One time we couldn’t get him to stop talking about ‘the librarian’s hair’ as if he were some star-struck child!”

Your cheeks were feeling warm by now and you were sure it wasn’t due to the hot food in front of you. 

“I don’t know how to feel about that,” you admitted. “He’s sweet, but I’ve never realized–”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s passed by now,” he said quickly in an attempt to reassure you. “He really just doesn’t get out much. None of us do, really. We’re all so busy trying to keep this place running and back to its former glory.”

“I see,” you nodded, now feeling a little relieved. Things would feel so awkward if Ori actually did have a crush on you. You certainly were fond of him, but not in that way.

“He wasn’t wrong, though,” Kíli said softly, snapping you out of your thoughts as you met his gaze.

“I’m sorry?”

“I just…” He trailed off, looking back down at his food. It seemed like he wasn’t expecting you to hear him as his face started turning red.

You in turn looked down at your own food, confused by his behavior. You gave him one last look, seeing his eyes meet your own.

“He wasn’t wrong. You’re beautiful.”

You froze, the room completely silent save for the crackling of the candles. Here you were sharing a meal with a Prince who had just told you he found you beautiful. Admittedly, it was all a bit much.

You gave a nervous laugh, fixing your posture in your seat as you shoved another forkful of food into your mouth. You chewed and swallowed, nodding as you tried to horse down the rest of your meal.

“Balin should be expecting us soon. We should hurry up,” you said, refusing to make eye contact as you ate.

Kíli smiled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before returning to his own food.

“Right, we wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.” 

You two managed to make it back in time, arriving to see Balin’s nose stuffed in one of the thickest books you had ever had the fortune of seeing. The rest of the day was long as the tour continued, but you had caught Kíli stealing a few choice glances your way whenever Balin wasn’t looking. You were caught off guard, sure, but you weren’t entirely averse to the attention. It was something new. Nice, even, and it made you think that perhaps this dwarf wasn’t entirely as ridiculous as you thought.

Of course, what you didn’t know was that he was almost certainly even more ridiculous than you took him for. But that certainly wouldn’t dissuade him from trying his best to capture your attention.

[sequoia---sempervirens]

It's probably due to the general lack of female characters in The Hobbit (and Lord Of The Rings) that, in the films, most of the characters that The Company meet are like. Single/widows etc. But I'm choosing to see it as foreshadowing for the fact that The Hobbit movies end the way they do. Thranduil and Bard both lost their wives and Elrond's wife is across the sea if I recall correctly. Really Beorn is the only ally they meet that hasn't somehow lost a wife but I mean he lost his entire family and stuff so I think it still fits with what I'm making up.

My point is that this all kind of points to this whole 'doomed love' part of the story that Tauriel and Kíli have (and Thorin and Bilbo, but I cannot be bothered going into why thats canon to me). Throughout the story they meet many people, all of which have lost their partners or family in one way or another. Everyone in this story has lost someone, and that's clear from the start. And then we are introduced to Tauriel and Kíli, who despite everything care for eachother only for this pattern to continue. It was doomed from the start and we should have known it because every other important character's relationship was also doomed.

I don't know. I just think it's a fun way to see it. I know fine well this was NOT the intention of the film writers at all like I know I am making this up. It's fun.

[corrosivegrl-blog]

[friendoffailures]

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOU DONT UNDERSTAND

[tondw0o]

Look at all the cute little pets they found !!! Had to draw this cute idea of @silvermoon-scrolls ❤️

[ambitiouspotions]

COURTING | KÍLI THE DWARF | HEADCANONS

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

kíli is full of life and potential; his fatal flaw is wanting to prove himself to his kin because he is the youngest in the company

this rolls over into your relationship because he is constantly trying to impress you

he asks his older brother, fíli, for better ways to woo you

he is a bit reckless when it comes to things he isn’t apt to do; you’ve had to corral the ponies when he was meant to tie them and have had to eat burnt food when he wasn’t watching it

he has a sharp eye due to being an archer, spotting things as you hike together and telling you stories when he sees something that reminds him of years past

he teased you constantly until the moment you showed him you showed him your skills in battle and now only lightly pesters you

he will do anything to see you smile, sneaking kisses just to watch your face light up

he would be the man at the inn playing his fiddle with the bad and stomping his feet in rhythm

he would dance the night away with you with copious amounts of mead or wine coursing through him

he is most protective of the people closest to him, causing him to stay awake at night to watch you while you sleep

he likes to lay in the stream and feel the world turn, occasionally flicking water at you

when he scouts the area he always tries to find a spot you can escape to together

he laughs too loudly when he's with you, so he finds himself riding separately from you so he doesn't upset the rest of the company

gives you one of his arrowheads to keep in your pocket to remind you of him if anything goes astray

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

pictures found on pinterest, edits made by AMBITIOUSPOTIONS are mushed together on canva

[khazadaimenu]

I did a sort of a hc post about Fili and Kili mere hours ago and that kinda opened the flood gates within me.

Cause I literally live some of my internal life in that world and have story lines I wanna share. But don't want to bother with a fic.

So I'm just gonna blather on about it here for a bit. Isn't it what this platform is for? i kinda want to talk about this one thing.

Warning: it's a long post and it has mature themes. As well as very specific hcs that develop into an evolved AU from my head. So read at your discretion.

In short: it's about Fili and love

I mentioned a hc in another post that Fili goes from awkward older teen to fully fledged young adult in the space of one season.

That summer, he spends all his time blacksmithing and building walls with other dwarves in a village suffering from frequent orc raids.

We're talking all day every day. And he gets strong.

Like one of those movie scenes, you know, the ones where a character gets thrown into water and reemerges seemingly years later, all grown up and shit. The one from The Last Kingdom lives forever in my head.

So imagine same but with Fili. He's no longer a scrawny kid, but broad and muscly. Cherry on top? He gets a peltful of chest hair. All in one go. Like, there was none to begin with and now it's all just fur.

Imagine him emerging from a swim in a lake after a long hard day of labour. Beads of water glistening, the last rays of the setting sun reflecting on his skin. And it becomes a habit as of late August that year. The change in his physique very apparent by now.

Naturally, all the lads and lasses in the vicinity are enamoured. Giggling. Whispering. And surreptitiously pointing.

Which Fili doesn't mind. In fact, he welcomes it. It's a sort of respite from all the princely duties. He wants to be young and live a little.

Here I have to clarify that personally (I know there's tons of variation here, so no hate, this is just my slutty corner of the universe) I hc Fili as pansexual. He's happy to love and share joy.

I think there's a particular type of pressure that only Fili feels and Kili doesn't. Where he knows he's loved, but Kili is the baby and Fili's the heir. And that's reflected in his relationship with his mother, with Thorin, with everyone. So he needs somewhere to just... be carefree. And that's either hanging out with Kili or... looking for adventure. And he's good at it so it gives him a confidence boost.

And no hearts broken. Cause dwarves only do this kinda stuff before they find their One. Or some dwarves aren't inclined romantically, but still go for it physically. And then there's the ace dwarves who choose their craft only. Either way, infidelity doesn't exist in dwarven culture. You either love someone and forget everyone else exists. Or you know you'll never have a One. Or you're not interested completely.

Fili is actually not sure about love. He's not sure it exists for him. He has long chats with Nori about it, who is 100% sure about his own standing: here just to f*k. But Fili's not so sure.

And when he miraculously gets saved before getting killed by Azog (I'm getting into my OC and AU here, so bear with me) he becomes even more convinced. Cause if he wasn't meant to live, why would Mahal make a One for him in the first place?

So when he falls in love with his human saviour, it all kinda gets too much.

1) The responsibility to his people. To uphold the culture.

2) Is he even capable of love?

3) Kili's in love with an elf. Everyone wants a happy ending for him. But dwarves as a group still hold quite a bit of prejudice. An elf in the royal bloodline? Not so fast!

So Fili has to take the fall. Kili will be alllowed to marry if he and any future heirs forsake their claim to the throne AND Fili provides said heirs as staunch 100% dwarves.

Fili tries to object - he doesn't think he can find a One (while internally wrestling with his existing feelings, denying them, burying them and gaslighting himself into oblivion). But then Dis digs up an old law about those in royal lineages marrying without love just to produce heirs (based on some earlier Tolkien drafts where only the dwarven kings married and nobody else among dwarves). And now Fili is well and truly f*ked stuck between a rock and a hard place.

He can't imagine his life without Kili, so the option where Kili is exiled hurts like hell.

In the meantime, his human leaves. They have their own duty to fulfill. That triggers the revelation in him that they are in fact his One.

Which means, by getting into arranged marriage he will forsake one of the most sacred laws of dwarves - he will betray his One.

The thought is unbearable. He considers briefly ending it all. Not a serious thought, just something that comes out of sheer exhaustion.

Kili remains unaware. Fili can't do this to his brother - he is giddy and talking excitedly about his own future happiness once Fili's wedding goes ahead.

Being an heir sucks sometimes. Sucks majorly.

Fili decides to go ahead with a union Dis chose for him. All the while keeping his feelings hidden from everyone.

He doesn't believe he'll ever see his person of choice ever again. And they're not a dwarf. So is it really a betrayal?..

I'll share what comes next in another post, hopefully. If I have a spurt of inspiration.

[pilkypills]

[mediocre-tumble]

Hobbit headshots

Bofur

Long haired Bilbo- I like to think if he stayed in Erebor he would let his curls grow more

Kíli with an undercut that has an arrow shaved into it gives me life

[nostalgicnarrator]

Over Hill and Under Mountain

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Word Count: 6,003

Parings: Thorn X Bilbo

Description:

Bilbo wakes up…

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Warning:

No one’s getting horribly mangled, murdered or deep-fried just warning.

Note:

Guys I’ve edited this and edited this and fixed it a million times and I am convinced I’ve lost all meaning to words, if there’s anything wrong or anything that doesn’t make any sense at all let me know.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Bilbo found himself waking up to the soft sounds of a distant waterfall and the chirping of birds. His body felt heavy with exhaustion, but the sheets beneath him were light and soft, the air was filled with a familiar faint floral scent mingled with the sharper smell of herbs. 

He blinked slowly, the room around him coming into focus, a gentle light filtering through the sheer curtains, there was a gentle breeze brushing through the room.

Bilbo turned his head away from the light, feeling a dull throb coming from his head and a tender pain in his side. He squeezed his eyes shut with a groan as he tried to sit up. Suddenly, a wave of nauseating dizziness washed over him.

Bilbo let out a whine of pain. A rough hand found its way to his chest and back, steadying him. Bilbo opened his eyes quickly and followed the arm until Óin appeared at his side.

The healer offered him a kind look, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as he helped Bilbo into a more comfortable position. “Easy there, lad,” Óin murmured. “You’ve been through quite a bit. No need to rush things.”

Bilbo nodded, his gaze drifting to the window. Outside, the world seemed so serene, the river glistening in the sunshine, its surface like glass. 

He suddenly felt worlds away when he remembered his tumble down that slope. The thought of it sent a shiver down his spine. He shook his head and decided to look around.

“How long have I been here?” Bilbo asked, his throat felt dry and scratchy from disuse, he tried to clear it but found it no use.

Óin disappeared from his side for a moment before returning with some water. “Three days,” Óin replied. “I’ve done what I can with a little elven healing on the side.” He said as he helped Bilbo drink. 

The water was cool and refreshing as it eased the dryness in Bilbo’s throat. He let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you, Óin.” Suddenly a memory hit him and his brows furrowed. “Gandalf, I-I was traveling with him…Óin, Is he-?”

“He’s fine lad! Knew you were a little out of it from the fall didn’t think it was that bad-” Óin chuckled. “He’s outside, keeping an eye on things. You gave everyone a scare.”

Bilbo managed a weak smile. “I’m sorry to be such a bother.” 

“Nonsense,” Óin said gruffly. A kind look found the old healer's face as he spoke.“Just focus on getting better, alright?” And Bilbo couldn’t help but nod.

But as the days passed and his strength slowly returned, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that settled in his chest, that something was wrong or misplaced.

And being confined to bed was driving him mad. He began wanting for a distraction, for something to take his mind off his new weird feelings.

One morning, after a lot of “please, Óin!” and “I promise, Óin,” and “just for a bit at least! You won’t be far away, I’ll call for you if I feel sick suddenly,” Bilbo finally managed to convince Óin to let him have visitors.

Bilbo felt his face light up when Gandalf entered the room, carrying a stack of books from Elrond’s library, a familiar glint nestled kindly in Gandalf’s eye.

“I thought you might enjoy some light reading,” Gandalf said, setting the books down on the bedside table. “I’ve also brought a friend.”

“A friend?” Bilbo echoed excitedly, was it Thorin, was Thorin here and the Dwarf was simply not allowed to see Bilbo yet?

But a bit of that hope flattened when a small black shape fluttered through the doorway, it was Hugin. Bilbo smiled kindly all the same though as Hugin perched on the bedpost. The bird ruffled his feathers and tilted his head at Bilbo.

“Hugin!” Bilbo said as excitedly as he could. “It’s good to see you.”

Hugin flapped his wings once, hopping in place a bit. “Good to see you too, Master Baggins! I had delivered your letter and then all of a sudden I was sent here!”

Gandalf smiled at the two and excused himself to speak with an elf who called for him at the door, leaving Bilbo and Hugin alone. 

Bilbo leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Hugin, do you know if Thorin is coming? Did you hear anything when you delivered my letter?”

The raven blinked thoughtfully. “Well, I delivered your letter, I had a nice time there, Thorin keeps all kinds of tasty treats but nothing like you Master Baggins”

“Hugin, call me Bilbo, I’m not anything’s master” Bilbo said, rattling it off like he had said it a dozen times before.

“Right, yes, of course Master Baggins.” And Bilbo sighed loudly as the raven continued. “I was then sent away here with a letter from King Thorin. He looked really upset…” 

“What did it say?” Bilbo whispered to the raven, he felt his stomach begin to tie knots.

“I didn’t know, but I do remember that King Thorin said it was about you.” Hugin did his best attempt at a shrug. “I flew here as fast as I could and handed it over to the wizard when I saw him. After that Óin showed up!”

“Just Óin…he showed up alone? Do…do you think Thorin is mad at me? I am sure I am very late by now.”

“Master Baggins! How dare you suggest that! King Thorin cares for you very much! Thorin didn’t seem mad so maybe he’s already on his way to visit! And maybe Thorin is running late- oh! Or got lost! You know how he gets”

Bilbo chuckled and nodded, “yes I do, thank you Hugin…is there anything else…?”

“Yes! There was much whispering and fussing between the wizard, the healer, and the Lord of Rivendell; it started a few days after Óin showed up.”

Bilbo’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, whispering?”

Hugin nodded vigorously. “Aye, secretive talk. They all acted a bit strange, As if they were waiting for something… maybe something bad…?”

Before Bilbo could press further, Gandalf returned with a gentle smile. “I see you two are catching up,” he said lightly, though his eyes seemed to be studying Bilbo carefully.

Bilbo nodded, dropping the line of questioning for the moment. “Yes, it’s been quite nice. Thank you Gandalf.”

Gandalf simply nodded, settling back into the chair by the bed. “Now, tell me, Bilbo, have you read up on Rivendell’s history? I thought you might find it fascinating.”

Bilbo smiled, letting the conversation shift, but a seed of unease had been planted, it made Bilbo feel something, something weird. Bilbo felt something, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. His unease was growing, and he knew that something was about to happen. He was sure of it.

A few days passed, and Bilbo was feeling well enough to sit up for longer periods.  Lord Elrond came to visit him in his room, Elrond smiled as he greeted Bilbo “How are you feeling, Master Baggins?” Elrond's voice was gentle as he took a seat by the bedside.

“Lord Elrond! It’s good to see you again! And I’m the master of nothing, call me Bilbo, as I had asked several times before.” 

Elrond chuckled and smiled, "Forgive me, Bilbo. It has been a long time since I have seen you, and old habits die hard." Bilbo grinned back, “Now tell me, how are you feeling?”

“Oh! Well, Óin says I'm getting better,” Bilbo replied. “Though, I do wish I could get out of bed. I feel horribly useless just lying here.”

Elrond chuckled softly. “Rest is a form of healing too, my friend. Your body needs time to recover.”

Bilbo gave Elrond a playful glare “I know that rest is a type of healing, but, I’m a restless hobbit!”

“Didn’t Mithrandir- Gandalf steal away some books for you?” and Bilbo could not stop himself from sighing at the elf’s words.

“A few, yes, but there is only so much reading can do for you! I’ve already read them twice over-“ Bilbo glared at the books that were now on a table across the room, he had read them not too long after Gandalf left. 

“Twice! You just got them only a few days ago, how in the name of Ennor did you manage that?” the elven lord raised a brow as he asked. Bilbo thought it looked a little out of place on the elf's face.

Bilbo huffed and snuggled back into his bedding, “I like reading…” he looked up when the Elven lord laughed. “Don’t laugh at me!”

“No- no! you misunderstand, you are such a curious hobbit, I’ll see about getting you something more to read soon” Elrond said after he calmed down.

Bilbo huffed and crossed his arms with a grumpy pout “I like histories and botany books”

“Of course” Elrond offered him a kind smile and Bilbo found himself smiling back. They settled into more boring topics as they spoke for a while longer. 

Sometimes turning the conversation to discuss Rivendell and the beauty of the valley. It felt all perfectly regular and Bilbo could feel some of that unease wash away from him.

Not long after Elrond left, Hugin came fluttering through his room window. The raven circled around for a bit before settling down on Bilbo’s bed.

The raven greeted Bilbo with a cheerful caw hopping over excitedly before dropping a small blue flower onto his lap. “I thought you might like this, Master Baggins,” Hugin chirped.

Bilbo smiled, picking up the flower. The color reminded him of Thorin, he brushed one of its petals with a soft smile. “Thank you, Hugin. It’s lovely.” He paused, ‘…Thorin.’ He heard his mind echo to him.

He sat up a little straighter, as far as he could stand without help, “Hugin” Bilbo started trying to keep his voice even and quiet, “can you tell me more about this letter you delivered from Erebor? Did you talk to Thorin?”

Hugin tilted his head. “Of course! I stayed in his chambers for a while, it was too cold on Raven hill.”

“You did? Can you tell me about him? How is he?” Blibo asked, it wasn’t the line of questioning he had meant to ask, but it was to late.

Hugin hopped into Bilbo’s lap and settled down comfortably, “Thorin looked fine, he looked like he always does-well, his Beard is getting long! He had a bead in it-“

“It’s already that long? Last time I saw him it was still short. Do you think he looks handsome like that?” Bilbo tisked and rolled his eyes, he reached to scratch Hugin’s head. “I told him if he grew his beard out he’d look handsome- always complaining about how ugly he is, can you believe that?”

The bird cooed at the scratches, Hugin huffed when Bilbo stopped, but decided to answer one of Bilbo’s questions “Thorin did kinda seem upset about something, but not mad. More worried, he was always pacing. I think he misses you, Master Baggins.”

Bilbo’s heart ached at the thought. “I miss him too,” he whispered. “I hope I see him soon…”

“Master Baggins, I told you, he’s gonna visit you, just give him time. Be patient!” Hugin cawed at him.

“Say you, you nearly had a fit when I told you dinner would be in a few minutes” Bilbo teased the bird.

“I had already waited hours!!” Hugin whined as he fluffed up

Bilbo gave a look he was sure his mother used to give him when he was acting out. “You had just finished eating less than an hour before!”

“But I was so hungry!” Hugin whined, the bird flopped over onto his back and looked at Bilbo “you were trying to starve me!”

“Hugin!” Bilbo laughed as the Raven kept whining. He couldn’t help but find it funny. And he gladly welcomed the change of topics. At least for now.

One afternoon, Bilbo had to convince Óin again, swearing he’d be fine. And after some more promising Bilbo found himself in a chair on a balcony.

It was a very nice day, strangely warm and the way the sun hit made Bilbo stretch out as much as he could comfortably in the chair he was in.

Bilbo smoked on his pipe peacefully. He blew a smoke ring and watched as it peacefully drifted away in a soft breeze. “I remember when we first came here, I spent most of my time exploring.” 

Bilbo looked over to the wizard next to him, Gandalf was giving him a soft smile, “I believe you did if I remember correctly. I believe I also remember you and Thorin disappearing for a time; I wonder what for.” The wizard hummed.

Bilbo’s heart skipped a beat, he ignored the last part of Gandalf’s sentence, he spouted whatever came to mind first. “Do you think he’ll come?” 

Gandalf raised a bushy brow at Bilbo as he smoked his own pipe, Gandalf blew rings that floated around him. Each ring a different color, they curled and weaved into one another.

“Who my dear boy?” Gandalf asked after blowing another ring.

“Thorin, do you think he’ll come…?” Bilbo rolled his pipe in his hands nervously.

“Ah….” Gandalf hummed for a moment, seemingly hesitating before smiling widely at him. “Perhaps? Though this seems more a question for Óin.”

“Óin…?” Bilbo echoed back, he looked over at Gandalf again.

Gandalf simply hummed and nodded his head before going back to smoking his pipe, Bilbo nodded to himself and decided he’d ask the Dwarf later.

When Óin agreed Bilbo’s health had improved enough to be allowed to explore the Last Homely House east of the sea. Though he had been there before, had already explored, He couldn’t help but find himself wandering the halls and gardens.

He remembered his first time there all over again. How the places felt like a haven to him. Other feelings he felt then came back to him, though not all were good feelings the sense of wonder was felt the most. 

With each step though the Elven halls, it brought relief to his crowded mind. He had begun to worry more over Thorin, his feelings for the dwarf and if everyone else was right.

He wanted to see Thorin badly, he had to see him. And as much as he wanted to ask Óin he couldn’t. He was scared of what the healer would tell him.

What if all his worries were true, what if Thorin really didn’t want to see him, ‘what if he hates me?’ Bilbo stilled at the thought.

‘What if he hates me…?’ Bilbo ran a hand through his hair. ‘What if he send another letter and he tells me he never wants to talk to me again? Tells me I should had stayed in the shire?’

Bilbo shook his head trying to chase the thoughts away again, he tried to focus on the feeling of the magic that was wrapping around him like a warm hug.

It brought with it memories that began to replace the foul thoughts in his head. Thoughts of home, of distant moments when he would come home with sticks and leaves in his hair, trailing in mud and fireflies.

His mother would march him off for a bath with the promise of stories of elves and all her adventures if he were to listen to her. Memories of how she would wrap him nicely in a warm towel.

Memories of his father and watching him sit at his desk, writing for long hours, Bilbo remembered how he would walk over and try and watch them his father would pull him to his lap and let Bilbo read as he wrote.

Memories began to mix, and change into different memories, ones that were not as distant of memories. Most were of a raven haired king, of how he was wrapped in a warm embrace.

He looked out over the garden, his mind wondered back to when he had last seen Thorin. The days they spent together when he visited, were lovely.

They had spent long hours walking the winding roads of the shire, telling stories and having a wonderful time.

He smiled widely as he stepped foot onto one of the garden’s paths. He began to trail slowly through the garden, the flowers still bloomed despite the cooler weather. Bilbo wondered if it was strange magic there that allowed them to.

Bilbo sighed and brushed his fingers along some vines that bloomed beautifully with flowers. He stopped at some soft blue flowers. He felt like they were glaring at him.

And then Bilbo was reminded, reminded of everything he was worried about and the growing unease that had begun to take root within him. And from there it only got worse.

It started with the small things, as all problems seem to do. He began to notice how Óin had begun to sneak away to speak in hushed tones with Gandalf or the Elves. 

And had even frequently caught the dwarven healer staring at him, his brow furrowed in thought, or pacing the halls while muttering to himself. 

The more Bilbo began to notice, the more he watched, the stranger things seemed, and he felt that something incredibly important was being kept from him.

One afternoon, Bilbo took a chance to explore more of Rivendell on his own. He wasn’t meant to be up that day, but Óin was preoccupied, so Bilbo took the moment to escape. 

That’s how he found himself in a dining hall, where an open letter lay on the table. Clearly forgotten by the elf lord or otherwise. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of him, he leaned over and read a few lines.

Bilbo’s heart sinking as he read and learned, the letter spoke of dark forces gathering in the Gap of Rohan and spreading towards Mirkwood. 

Bilbo felt the uneasy feeling climb higher, something sick scratched and clawed inside him. Bilbo couldn’t understand it, didn’t want to, he was afraid but why? The issue was so far away and he was among eleven magics.

But before he could pull himself into a true panic, Óin spoke from behind him. “What do you think you’re doing, Bilbo?” Bilbo could hear the concern in the healers voice even when he tried to mask it with gruffness. “Didn’t I tell you to rest, Lad?”

Bilbo felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “I’m sorry, Óin. I just...”

Óin sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Aye, lad. But some things are best left alone until the time is right. Come, let’s get you back to bed.”

As Óin guided him back, Bilbo’s mind raced. ‘What else were they not telling me?’ He thought desperately, ‘Was this something that had to do with Thorin?’ ‘Was he okay?’ ‘Where was he?’ ‘Will he be here?’ ‘Was he even coming?’ His thoughts swirled around his mind.

Bilbo had to shake his dizzying thoughts away, he wondered vaguely if he should have asked Óin more, if he should do as Gandalf suggested.

Then the opportunity presented itself a few days later, as Bilbo sat by a small fountain with his eyes closed, listening to the soothing sound of the water, he heard the familiar sound of heavy footsteps approaching. 

He opened his eyes and smiled up at Óin as the older dwarf joined him, wiping his hands on a cloth. “Good morning, lad,” Óin greeted him, “You’re looking better today.”

“Thank you,” Bilbo replied with a nod. He let a comfortable silence fall between them, feeling the cool mist from the fountain on his face. 

After a moment, he decided that the time to question the dwarf had come. Trying to keep his tone light, he said, “I can’t help but notice you seem very busy lately. Is something the matter?”

Óin paused, his hand hovering over the pipe he was pulling from his pocket. He looked at Bilbo as if searching for something.

Then Óin sighed heavily before sitting down beside Bilbo. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before you asked,” he said, beginning to pack his pipe with tobacco.

Bilbo’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

“Thorin was supposed to come with me lad,” Óin spoke loudly, though he often did. “We were to travel together, but he took too long…I feared I was out of time, so I left ahead. When I last saw him, he was waiting on Kíli and Fíli. We were supposed to meet in Mirkwood.”

“Then what happened…?” Bilbo asked, his anxiety creeping into his voice.

Óin shrugged. “Things didn’t go as planned, I assume. I came ahead.” He took a drag on his pipe, the smoke curling around his face. “After I arrived, we started getting a few letters from Erebor.”

“Letters?” Bilbo pressed, hoping for more information.

“Aye,” Óin nodded. “Letters, mostly from Balin. They’re meant for Thorin when he gets here.”

“So… so he is coming…?” Bilbo muttered, Óin gave him a confused look and Bilbo suddenly remembered that Óin was hard of hearing and he wasn’t facing the hobbit to be able to read his lips.

“Thorin is coming?” He asked, trying to be a bit louder.

Óin gave a small nod. “I believe so. He and others will be here soon enough.”

“Others?” Bilbo asked, trying to keep his hope in check.

Óin hummed and nodded in agreement as he took another puff from his pipe. “Most likely Fíli and Kíli, Nori and probably Dwalin- maybe Bombur but I doubt it, he’s waiting on his Brother and cousin  to come back. That group is bound to be slower than I was, especially with the princes.”

“How-how long ago was that…?” Bilbo’s voice cracked as he asked, he would tell you it was because he had to be louder than he liked.

Óin looked down at Bilbo and sighed, placing a comforting hand on the hobbit’s shoulder. “Traveling on any road isn’t without danger. But I’m sure they’ll be fine, lad.”

Despite the reassurance, a flowering anxiety bloomed in Bilbo’s chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

The next day Bilbo skipped First breakfast, he couldn’t eat anything and if he did he began to feel sick. He decided since he was unable to do anything he’d go find someone to bother.

He very quickly found Gandalf strolling through the gardens. The leaves rustled softly in the breeze, and birds sang in the trees. It would have been very pleasant if Bilbo didn’t feel like throwing up.

He fell into step beside Gandalf, who greeted him with a warm smile. “Good morning, Bilbo. Feeling restless today, I see.”

Bilbo nodded, his hands fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. “Gandalf,” he began hesitantly, “do you think they’re alright? Thorin and the others, I mean.”

Gandalf’s expression softened, and he paused in his walk, placing a gentle hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “I do,” he replied calmly. “This is Thorin we are talking about. You should know better than anyone, that they have faced far worse than an unwilling path.”

Bilbo nodded again, but he still felt the sickening anxiety twisting within him. “I just… I can’t help but worry. I suppose I am truly turning into an old fool…”

Gandalf sighed.  “ you have always been a foolish Hobbit Bilbo, have no doubt on that”

“Thank you Gandalf, you know you must work on your reassurances”

Gandalf chuckled and nodded “ I suppose so, have patience, my dear boy. They will come. I’m certain of it.” He patted Bilbo on the back before walking again. 

Bilbo quickly followed beside the gray wizard. Gandalf spoke again “In the meantime, take solace in the peace of this place. Rivendell has a way of healing more than just the body.”

Bilbo managed a small smile at the attempt of comforting words. As they continued their walk, he tried to focus on the beauty around him, but his thoughts still remained with his Dwarfs

Bilbo had been doing his best to occupy his mind, focusing on light walks through Rivendell or engaging in pleasant conversations with whomever he could catch.

Unsurprisingly it was often Gandalf or Lord Elrond who kept him company, though sometimes Hugin would follow him around. They felt almost like a temporary balm to the unease that had been growing slowly within him.

But then, without warning, it happened. It was a perfect afternoon, well a nearly perfect one, at least. The sun had bathed the garden in a kind golden light.

Bilbo found himself alone among the flowers, their bright colors almost too bright in the light of the day. He couldn’t help but marvel at the delicate petals. He inhaled deeply, trying to savor the sweet, earthy scent of each flower.

Suddenly, Bilbo’s world tilted. The sturdy earth beneath his feet shifted. A sharp pain stabbed through his chest, stealing his breath away.

He tried to breathe in air, but his lungs refused to cooperate, leaving him gasping, each breath undoubtedly ragged, in a desperate struggle. The once calming warmth of the sun turned sharp and burning.

His hands instinctively grabbed at the ground, as he fell to his knees. Bilbo’s fingers dug into the soft soil wanting for an anchor to keep him in reality. 

Panic surged through him, cold and swift. He shook his head, trying to clear the dizziness that clouded his mind, but it only made things worse. The vibrant colors of the garden; the reds, yellows, and blues of the flowers he’d been admiring, began to blur together, their edges softening and darkening.

Darkness slowly dug its claws into him and the edges of his vision. Bilbo felt his arms tremble, his strength had left him almost completely. Bilbo glanced around, his eyes still wild-eyed, searching for someone, anyone, who could help him.

But the garden was deserted, and the realization struck him, and struck him hard. He wined and Bilbo could feel tears blurring the rest of his vision, he was alone.

A strangled sound escaped his throat as his arms finally gave out. He buckled, and crumpled to the ground, the impact sending a jolt of pain through him. 

Panic swelled within his chest, mingling with the suffocating sensation that gripped his lungs. ‘I’m gonna die here’ his mind all but screamed. 

He tried to get up, but his body stubbornly refused, limbs failing to obey any of his frantic commands. His thoughts were a jumbled mess of terror and confusion, ‘I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die’ ‘help, please no’ ‘wheres Thorin?’, they all swirled together making it impossible to think clearly.

He tried to scream, to call out for help, but the sound that came out was pitifully weak, barely more than a desperate whisper. He blinked away his tears as his vision began to narrow. 

He had no sense of time, no way of knowing how long he lay there, struggling to breathe, to move. It could have been seconds or hours; it all blurred together in a haze.

Then, through the fog, he heard it, the familiar sound of boots thumping they’re way up the path. Bilbo’s heart leaped with a flicker of hope, and with a desperate strength, he forced his body to move. 

He rolled over onto his side, dragging himself forward with trembling arms. The effort was agonizing, and a scream tore from his throat, louder this time, ripping his throat raw.

Before he knew anything else Óin was there. The healer knelt beside him, his hands moving swiftly. “Stay awake for me, lad,” Óin muttered, his voice gruff but concerned.

Bilbo whimpered in response, the pressure in his chest easing away slightly as Óin worked. Bilbo gasped, drawing in a deeper breath than before, but it wasn’t enough. 

The darkness was still there, hovering on the edge of his vision, wanting, clawing for him. He felt Óin’s arms scoop him up.

“Keep your eyes open, now.” Óin’s panic was clear, “you’ll be alright lad, come on.” Óins panic pierced through the haze that was clouding Bilbo’s mind.

Bilbo tried to hold on, really he tried, but it was no use. The darkness was too strong, its grip tightening around him. Óin’s voice became a distant echo, fading further and further away until there was nothing but silence. 

After that Óin refused to leave his side, and if he did it wasn't for long, more then once Bilbo would devolve into random fits and when he’d come to and Óin would be holding him tightly.

Bilbo’s fever had returned, worse than before, and the wound on his head began to fester strangely. Dark thoughts crept into every corner of Bilbo’s mind as the sickness took its hold.

Bilbo struggled to remember what happened, or how to keep his memories straight but he remembered when he began to hear the whispers.

they would come and go from him, often more at night. They seemed to come from the walls or the deep inky shadows that crept and shifted in the darkness. 

The few things he could remember was how the whispers were soft, lullingly quiet and almost relaxing. But then they grew louder, the whispers began to change and warp, to something he had never heard before. 

He could hear snatches of an otherworldly melody, haunting and distant, followed by a deep, resonant humming that sent shivers down his spine.

“Do you hear that?” he asked Óin one night.

Óin frowned. “Hear what, lad?” Óin asked as he slowly stopped what he was doing and made his way to Bilbo’s side

“The voices… the music,” Bilbo whispered.

Óin exchanged a worried glance with Gandalf, who too began staying at Bilbo’s side. “There’s no music, Bilbo,” Gandalf said gently. “It’s just your mind playing tricks, you’re alright.”

But Bilbo was not convinced. The whispers, the singing grew louder, sometimes forming words he could almost understand, other times dissolving into soft laughter or high-pitched, eerie tones that seemed to bounce off the walls. 

“Am I…am I going mad,” he whined as he looked at Óin, clutching the sheets tightly. “I don’t want to go mad Óin make the music stop, make it stop, stop, stop!.”

Bilbo had gripped at his hair desperately, he felt rough hands take his and untangle them from his hair “don’t do that lad. yer not going mad, I promise I’m not going to let ya go mad, okay?”

Bilbo didn’t remember what he said after that, the next thing he did remember was how he felt as if he were being watched, at all times, but whenever he turned to look, there was nothing there. He felt unseen eyes burning into him, watching his every move.

He remembered how his sleep became restless, filled with nightmares of dark corridors and shadowy figures. He would wake up drenched in sweat, gasping for air, his heart racing.

One  he could remember vividly, he didn't think he could ever forget. He dreamt of Thorin, standing tall as he always did, his blue eyes piercing and determined. 

But then, the dream shifted. Thorin was surrounded by orcs, their dark forms swirling like a storm around them. Blood, thick and dark, oozed down Bilbo's arms. 

Bilbo tried to run, to get to Thorin but his feet wouldn’t move. Suddenly, a sharp blade sliced through the air, embedding itself into Thorin’s side.

Thorin reached out to Bilbo, his eyes wide with pain and fear. “Bilbo…” he whispered before collapsing to the ground. Bilbo screamed.

He woke up with a start, screaming still. “No! No! Thorin, no- wait, please, no! You can’t!” He thrashed against the sheets, tears streaming down his face. 

Someone grabbed his arm, the voice spoke softly, rumbling in tone. but their voice was lost in the roaring thunder in his ears.

Suddenly, Gandalf was there, his arms wrapping around Bilbo, pulling him close. “It’s alright, Bilbo,” Gandalf whispered, his voice steady but filled with concern. “You’re alright. Hush now. What you saw isn’t real; it didn’t happen.”

But Bilbo shook his head frantically, the tears coming faster. “No! It happened, Gandalf! I saw it -I saw it happen! I saw it!”

From that night on, Bilbo’s fever worsened. It became even harder for him to distinguish between his dreams and reality, Bilbo's mind was beginning to blur memories and images, facts and fictions.

He had lost all meaning to any sound other than the whispers. The walls seemed to close in on him, and the shadows danced just out of reach, taunting him.

He felt as though he were sinking, the weight of his own body pressing him down. He tried to move, to speak, but his limbs felt heavy, like lead.

Bilbo’s mouth refused to form the words. He felt trapped in his own mind, a prisoner to the fever that burned through him.

In his fevered state, he often found himself standing in an endless void, a blackness so deep it seemed to swallow all light. He would whip his head around desperately for anything familiar, but there was nothing, just the dark, endless void. 

Then the ground beneath him would shift, and he would feel himself falling, spiraling down into an abyss with no end.

He heard chanting, deep voices singing in a language he didn’t understand. The sound was everywhere and nowhere, vibrating through him, filling him with a strange mix of dread and awe. 

He tried to cover his ears, but the sound was inside his head, reverberating through his very bones. “Gandalf,” he whimpered, “make it stop. Please, make it stop.”

Gandalf was always there, by his side, whispering soothing words, but Bilbo could hardly understand them. The words began to sound like rolling thunder, and soon even Gandalf’s voice was lost in the noise.

Bilbo felt himself slipping further away, the world around him growing darker, colder. The room spun, and Bilbo felt panic grip it's cold claws into him again. He didn’t want to lose his grip on reality. He didn’t want to fall into the darkness that waited at the edge of his mind. But he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t fight it. The darkness was pulling him down, down into its cold embrace.

He could hear his own heartbeat slowing, the music growing louder, consuming him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, there was only the music, the haunting, terrifying music.

Just when he thought he couldn’t bear it any longer, he heard a new sound,a clear, strong voice cutting through the chaos. It called his name. “Bilbo!” the voice rumbled, filled with fear and urgency. “Don’t ya dare, lad! Come on! Damn it, breathe!”

Bilbo’s eyes snapped open, he took a deep breath as his surroundings began to come back to him, he couldn’t help the cry that escaped him as his chest throbbed in pain, someone took his face in their larger hands.

“That’s it, breathe, deep breaths. Come on, stay awake lad” Óin’s voice rumbled close to his ear. The dwarf let go of his face and turned to Gandalf. “Keep him with us, Gandalf.”

Gandalf’s face appeared in Bilbo’s blurred vision as the wizard held his arms tightly. “Fight for us, Bilbo. Come on. You must fight it. Think of Thorin! The blasted dwarf is always late, isn’t he?”

But Bilbo was so tired, so very tired. His body ached, his head throbbed, and he felt as if he were being pulled in a thousand different directions. 

The world around him blurred again, and he felt himself beginning to drift. “I’m tired… Gandalf,” he whispered softly, his eyes fluttered as he tried to keep awake.

Gandalf held him tighter. “No! No, no, no, hold on, Bilbo. Hold on!” He glanced over his shoulder, panic flickering in his eyes. “Óin!”

But it was too late. The darkness came again, enveloping Bilbo in its cold, endless embrace. And it was horrible.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Note:

I’ll be editing chapter 5 if you need me. Have a good day/night.

@m4yh4ps @bllbabaggins