#lathalea writes

[lathalea]

A NEW CHAPTER OF BLACKSMITH NEEDED OR A NEW STORY PLS? I MISS YOUR WRITING 😭😭🦉

Soooorrryyyyy Nonnie, forgive me 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 I am a bad bad writer and I should be ashamed of myself!

I can only apologize to you and promise I'll try to do what I can to continue with the Blacksmith. Right now I'm super busy organizing TRSB (and that means more fics and fanart in future! check out @tolkienrsb). In the meantime, how about Entangled to sweeten your waiting?

And if you'd like to read more, I'll be posting another story on Tumblr very soon, I just have to finish it first. It's about Thorin and a minstrel. I know it's not what you've been waiting for but I'll try to do my best and deliver some Blacksmith content to you soon!

Thank you sooo very much for your ask, I love you for writing to me and... I'm sooorrryyyy 😭😭😭

[fizzyxcustard]

For the trope ask: how about “arranged marriage”?

Now, I’ve ventured down the rabbit hole before for arranged marriages. I always see this as being more for Guy of Gisborne and Raymond de Merville because of the time period.

So I’d be extremely likely to write it, and probably go for one of those two. However, I’d consider Thorin as well. Maybe even John Thornton. It’s definitely an interesting trope.

Thank you for the ask! ♥️ Always good to get the creative juices flowing and brain cogs turning.

[lathalea]

Thank you for tagging me @frosticenow :)

This is a little something I wrote last night. Context: Thorin, Balin, and Dis discuss the issue of succession in Erebor and Kili's marital plans (hello, m!Tauriel):

Dis takes a sip from her cup. “The problem is not whether Kili is allowed to marry his Tauriel,” she continues, “but whether an union between a Dwarf and an Elf can produce a child. I must admit I am not well-versed in Elf biology. Are they similar to us? Are their males able to…” Balin coughs and his cheeks become almost as red as the wine we are drinking. “You too? Mahal, give me strength! Men! You are so set in the old ways sometimes!” Dis groans, throwing her hands in the air. “Stop acting as if babies magically popped out of the rock!”

Tagging @enchantzz @legolasbadass @littlesweetdressmaker @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @linasofia @i-did-not-mean-to @shiinata-library @lordoftherazzles @fishing4stars @bookworm-with-coffee @sotwk @heilith

Last Line Game

Tagged by @tragedybunny. Thanks love!🖤

They were each other's temptation just as they were each other's salvation, a spark lit in an unlikely place and between unlikely people who, by all laws and customs, should have never met, nor should have looked at one another with such longing.

This just happens to be the last line of my latest fic in general. Some of you may know where this is from~

No pressure tags: @i-did-not-mean-to @maironite @fraeuleinfriedhof @solmarillion @yletylyf @fantasyinallforms @elentarial @goschatewabn @searchingforserendipity25 @scyllas-revenge @lordoftherazzles @glorf1ndel @cliffdivingsblog @ruiniel @verecunda @a-world-of-whimsy-5 and everyone else who would like to share something🖤

If anyone's not currently writing - sorry!🙈

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Mistress! It is me! If you feel like playing the writer ask game today, here are my questions:

💬- describe one of your completed works in three words

✏️- favorite part about writing

☺️- a line that made you feel a fluffy happiness

Thank you!

Hello Mistress!!! QUEEN!!!

Ohhhhhh asks for me…

💬- describe one of your completed works in three words

Who killed Amrod? (X if you want to find out)

✏️- favorite part about writing

Writing. The act of sitting somewhere and just let my fingers go clack clack clack on the keyboard :D

☺️- a line that made you feel a fluffy happiness

“Indeed they are,” Thorin gently cupped her face, marvelling at her delicate features. “Like your name in my heart.” And he poured his whole heart into the tender kiss that followed his words. Carra’s lips tasted like sweet, ripe raspberries gathered at dawn and Thorin allowed himself to cherish her closeness for a few stolen moments longer. When he finally took his leave, her eyes seemed to glow with iridescent light.

(X)

Here is one I loved of yours! Please, everyone, read this story!!! IT’S SO GOOD!!!!

Thank you so much for this ask!

Lots of love!

[thespiritoflife]

Dear Lady Thespiritoflife,

It is a great honour to be able to write to you. I hope my letter finds you in great spirits. After a great deal of thinking, I have prepared a gift for you that you may find to your liking.

🎁 Since you seem to like to be active, I invite you to visit Rhovanion in the summer. I would be more than happy to be able to take you on an excursion around the Long Lake in search of the best picnic places — with a basket filled with victuals prepared by Bombur himself.

🎁 These two Dwarves that appeared at the doorstep with my letter are my best carpenters and they will build the perfect reading nook for you in your home according to your wishes, including a library. Yes, the crate they brought with them contains several books straight from my library that you may find interesting.

🎁 The box of cookies attached to this letter is also an invitation for a baking weekend in Erebor. Bombur is eager to exchange his best recipes with you and then bake together with you and I am even more eager to eat everything you prepare!

Happy winter days and may the New Year be a merry one!

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓷 𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷,

thank you very for writing me this letter. You have no idea how much it made me happy! I appreciate it so much.

That moodboard is so gorgeous, I truly love it.

And I would love to go to Rhovanion! That excursion around Long Lakes sounds really beautiful and exciting.

Reading nook? That's amazing, I can't believe it! You thought of everything!! Thanks so much. I can not wait to see it!

Mmm, box of cookies! They taste really good and yummy! And I am honoured to learn from master himself - Bombur how to bake. I am so excited. Of course, I accept your invitation, all your invitations. Can not wait to see you, Bombur and all these beautiful places. Thank you once again.

Happy winter days and happy New Year 2023 to you too, dear Thorin! I hope it will be good year for you. Don't forget to take care.

With love

𝓛𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓸𝓯𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮.

[xxbyimm]

Here's a bunch of questions for the Writer Ask Game:

⭐️- how do you get your inspiration?

💘- what’s your favorite AU? Least favorite?

☕️- favorite passage

Hey 😊!

Ooh interesting questions!! Let's go:

⭐️- how do you get your inspiration? Well... I mean... Thorin's 🍑 is a huge inspiration of mine. 😂😂 But jokes (not really) aside, for me inspiration is to be found everywhere! It ranges from listening to a song, to reading fics from my talented writers friends, to watching series/movies or reading a book, and finally to day dreaming (an excessive lot of it). And when I'm stuck, discussing a plot with my s/o (poor guy) or friends really helps me to find my way again.

💘- what’s your favorite AU? Least favorite? My favorite AU is the "Everybody Lives" AU, which is, to be honest, not even a real AU. Since it is, you know, a fact. So, if I had to choose another one, I'd say "regency" AU, cause I LOVE my period dramas and regency men/dwarves are SOMETHING!! 🤩🥰

My least favorite would be the "modern" AU, and then I mean in the most drastic way (characters are living their lives in this world, ME does not exist). Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of lovely fics to find in this category which I love. But I think it has to do with the fact that I adore Tolkien's universe so much: the modern world becomes so... mundane (also, a serious lack of dragons 🐉!!).

☕️- favorite passage This passage is from A Tale as Old as Time, my Bard the Bowman x OC fic! "But Bard… Bard was entirely something else. Brea adored the bowman’s confidence and strong sense of self and found that unlike other men his age, these characteristics didn’t make him presumptuous; his bright mind and clear moral compass simply forbade it. Bard had already made it through the trials of young age and came out the wiser, allowing him to be both gentle and fierce when needed. And though he would beg to differ if he knew, Brea believed his company to be as exciting as Ruthron’s had been—maybe even more—though in his own, calm way. He simply was everything a man ought to be."

I don't think this is the best passage I've ever written (oh yeah I see the flaws), but it clearly shows my vision of the character and my adoration for him. 🙈🥰

Thank you so much for asking ❤❤❤❤

[lathalea]

As a person who is currently taking a break from writing for personal reasons, some of what you say @fizzyxcustard hits home. I’m sorry you��re going through this.

Writing is a solitary task and we rely on our people around us, our readers and supporters, to let us know how we’re doing. How else would we know if they like what we write?

Published authors have sales numbers and their bank accounts to look at to know this. But when it comes to us, it’s up to our readers! So if you’re someone who has recently read an online story for free - please consider leaving feedback in any way you like to let your writer know that you’d like to read more and/or that they are doing a great job!

I promise you, we writers don’t bite, on the contrary, seeing that kudos or reblog or a comment (doesn’t matter if it’s an emoji or two, a chaotic flurry of letters and exclamation marks [we love those], or a couple of sentences), we’ll be just as thrilled! Spreading love across our favorite fandoms is the way to make sure your favorite writers will share new content with you! 💚 And if you’re ever in doubt on what to say to a writer, just send me an ask or a DM, I’d love to help!

Thank you for the shout out @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog, and I’m around whenever you feel like talking more about your writing!

It goes without saying that when I write “you”, I mean all the writers who are reading this! My ask box and DMs are always open, here and on Discord 💚💚💚

Guys I just want to say a little post about something. I know a lot of people have really difficult things going on in their life and that there's one spark of joy that they can take comfort in which is fanfiction.

It's an incredibly blessed talent to have to create the fanfiction we all love and has given us joy. So when we have these incredible writers such as @fizzyxcustard who are at the point of giving up we needs to take notice and start letting them know how much their work and their presence in our lives have meant to us. @fizzyxcustard has been such a welcoming beacon in not just the Tumblr sphere but online and offline to many of us and it's heartbreaking that she finds herself feeling that she needs to step away from writing when she's so incredibly talented . So please go now and tell her and the other writers you love that they are loved and that their work is so important to us.

Much love you to you all and especially @fizzyxcustard who means the world to me.

[thorinsspringforge]

Attention all Thorin fans!

Hello everyone! As we begin planning the 2025 edition of our event, we want to announce that we are looking for a new mod!

If you have some time between now and May, you like using Discord, and you're comfortable writing posts/messages in English, we'd love to hear from you! Previous experience as a Discord server mod is an asset, but it's not required. If you are familiar with the Bagginshield part of the fandom and located outside of the ET (or similar) time zone, that's also a plus. The most important thing is that you like Thorin (duh) and are enthusiastic about this event!

Please DM us or send an email to thorinsspringforge@gmail.com if you're interested.

— Mods @lathalea, @legolasbadass, and @middleearthpixie

[sotwk]

Fanfic writer interview

Thank you @emmanuellececchi for the tag!! 💖 I've been tagged on this game a couple of times in the past, but I never answered them because looking at my Ao3 Stats just made me feel sad.

Stats are a little better now, and I have thicker skin about it, so here we go! :)

How many works do you have on AO3? 23

What's your total AO3 word count? 72,658

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Taken (Eomer x OC) *most popular by a large margin!

Greenleaf's Day Out (Child Legolas and family)

The Task of Living (Thorin x Reader)

Breathe (Boromir x Reader)

Dandelions (Boromir x Reader)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Umm. I am shamefully REALLY bad at responding to comments. More often than not, I just don't get around to it! I know that's a terrible thing to do as a writer, because commenters deserve so much appreciation! It is definitely one of my resolutions in the coming New Year to improve on this flaw.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? The Broken Shield - It's a Thorin fic set during the War of the Dwarves and Orcs, and shows the death of both Elvenqueen Maereth and Frerin, brother of Thorin.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? I like to think most of the fics I write have happy endings, but I've received feedback about Dandelions being particularly "feel good".

Do you write crossovers? Crossovers are not my thing, BUT I did receive a fic request for one from a friend, so I'm going to deliver it just because they asked.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Never, thankfully. I don't think my reach is wide enough to attract the notice of haters.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Nope, I leave smut to the experts. M-level spice is the most I can manage.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope, and I can't imagine anyone would want to.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? @scyllas-revenge and I sorta accidentally co-wrote a sort-of fic. LOL. Maybe we'll formalize the partnership eventually. @heilith and I have been discussing a (her)Lindir x (my)OC collaboration for ages now, but we're both so busy offline! I would love to co-write fics, but only with friends I'm confident can tolerate my slowness and focus issues.

What's your all-time favorite ship? I enjoy MANY ships across different fandoms, but none really stand out. On a personal level, I really love my Thranduil x Maereth ship. It means so much to me that I will forever be insecure about sharing it with others, for fear of rejection or criticism.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? I want to finish ALL my WIPs and I don't think about ditching any of them. Hope springs eternal!

What are your writing strengths? If you ask me? Worldbuilding and integrating my AU into canon. If you ask others? I've been told I can deliver a decent gut-wrenching piece of prose or dialogue here and there.

What are your writing weaknesses? I am the SLOWEST WRITER YOU WILL EVER MEET. Tons of WIPs. Updates on long fics are a miracle. I honestly question whether I'm cut out for multi-chapter fics, but I keep trying anyway.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I only do it sparingly, usually using short phrases here and there.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? I am chomping at the bit to write for ASOIAF/Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon! I have fic requests waiting for HotD; I just need to get my butt moving on them.

What's your favorite fic you've written? I have yet to write a fic that stands out above the others; I love my fics equally for different reasons.

Bonus: Live shots of me trying to write:

Tagging: @hobbitwrangler @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @heilith @lathalea @missiemoosie

@emyn-arnens @celeluwhenfics @dilettantefeminist @cycas @scyllas-revenge

@cuarthol @entishramblings @lucifers-legions @torchwood-99 @softboiledwonderland

....and anyone who wants to share! I'm not sure which of my writer Moots are on Ao3 or just on Tumblr. :)

[asgardianhobbit98]

Four for Valentine Event!

I've created a little event! if it brings inspiration to anyone, please feel free to join in any of the weeks <3 feel free to participate using any medium you like: writing, poetry, art, etc!

don't forget to tag me!! any questions? DM me or ask in the comments of this post :3

tagging my tag list peeps: @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @knittastically @heilith @lathalea @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

no longer want to be on my tag list? or would you like to join? DM me! <3

[legolasbadass]

Italian Holiday

Summary: A few weeks before Richard leaves for Boston, he and Lorelei go on holiday in Italy to make the most of the summer and the time they have left together.

This story takes between the penultimate and last chapter of Office Hours and contains major spoilers for that story, so make sure you read it first!

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 3.8K

Rating: E

A/N: Hello, dear readers! You guys didn't really believe I was done writing about Richard and Lorelei, did you? I love them too much to say goodbye so soon!

So how about a fluffy (and smutty - it is Richard and Lorelei, after all 😈) story about their Italian holiday in the summer before Richard's departure to Boston? Special thanks to my dear @lathalea for her support and feedback on this one 💙 Please reblog, like, comment - I will post more chapters if there is interest!

P.S. This chapter is veeeeery smutty. You have been warned 😈

Read on AO3

A chorus of seagulls welcomes Richard and me to our Italian paradise. After a long day of travelling, I am absolutely exhausted, and the humidity takes my breath away as we make our way through the streets crowded with tourists, our suitcases rolling on the uneven cobblestones behind us. But nothing can stop me from admiring the beauty of Monterosso. 

As we walk through the Old Town's narrow streets, marvelling at the pastel-terraced houses cascading down the hillside against the cloudless azure sky, we pass by countless quaint cafes and trattorias. The hubbub of conversations mingles with the clinking of glasses as hints of garlic, tomatoes, and freshly baked bread hang in the air. My stomach suddenly growls, reminding me that I only had a meagre lunch at the airport hours ago, and I reluctantly walk away from the alluring scents. 

Richard and I rented a small flat for the week, and as we unlock the door to our sanctuary, we step into a room that embraces the essence of seaside tranquillity. Pale, billowing curtains adorn the large windows, filtering the golden sunlight that spills onto the pale green walls and the soft furnishings. Tucked into one corner next to the sitting area is a small but well-equipped kitchenette; I already look forward to cooking simple meals to enjoy on the balcony, which offers a stunning view of the sea. But right now, all I can see is the large bed adorned with white linen and plush pillows. Kicking off my shoes, I throw myself onto the bed with a relieved sigh, too exhausted from travel and the unforgiving heat to care that I am still wearing the clothes I wore on the plane and on the train. 

Behind me, Richard chuckles, then playfully pinches my bum before walking away. The patio door slides open before he calls out, “Oh wow—come look at the view!” 

“Hm,” I mumble in response, pressing my face deeper into the cool linen. 

“Lorelei.” Richard speaks my name slowly in a playful reprimand. The creaking floorboards warn me of his approach, but I am still surprised when he lifts me off the bed. 

“Richard!” I exclaim, half groaning and half giggling as he carries me onto the small balcony and sets me back on my feet. 

I gasp. Beyond the terracotta roofs of the city and the rugged cliffs to our right lies the sea, its lacy waves sparkling under the late afternoon sun. As I admire the scenery, Richard wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me flush against him, and I smile as he presses a soft kiss atop my head. 

“I’m so happy to be here with you,” he says tenderly. 

“Me too,” I reply before turning around to face him. 

Though the view of the coastal town is mesmerizing, Richard is even more so; the wind tousles the soft waves of his hair, and the golden sun highlights the silver streaks in his beard, making it impossible for me to resist him. Raising myself on my tiptoes, I wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his in a languid, open-mouthed kiss. This holiday is meant to be a retreat during which we can ignore the rest of the world and our jobs and pretend like we have all the time in the world to devote to each other. And yet, as his tongue caresses mine, I am reminded that each kiss, each tender touch we share, only brings us closer to his departure.

Oblivious to my thoughts, Richard breaks the kiss and nuzzles my nose before saying, “If you keep kissing me like that we’ll never leave this place.” 

“I don’t see a problem with that,” I reply with a chuckle, causing him to smirk. 

“I’m starving, and I thought you were, too,” he points out.

“Well, I do need to take a shower before going to a restaurant…” I say as I suggestively run a hand down his chest, stopping just before the hem of his trousers. 

Richard’s eyes darken. “What a coincidence, so do I,” he replies with a mischievous grin, and before I know it, our lips meet again in a heated kiss as we stand under the water, pressed against each other in the small shower. 

***

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back and change into trainers?” Richard asks, glancing at my heels as I nearly stumble on the uneven cobblestone. 

“No,” I reply, holding onto his arm more tightly. “I want to look nice!” 

Richard frees himself from my grip to wrap his arm around my shoulders instead, pulling me close as he says, “Sweetheart, you are always the most beautiful woman in the room, regardless of what you wear.” 

I should be accustomed to his compliments by now, but I cannot help but blush. “Well, heels also make it easier to kiss you.” 

He chuckles. “Is it not attractive when I have to bend in half to reach your height?” 

“Bend in half—I’m not that short!” I retort, and our laughter echoes through the narrow street as we continue to tease each other. 

After a short walk, we arrive at a quaint restaurant with a view of the beach, now bathed in the soft pink glow of the setting sun. The scent of grilled seafood and garlic wafts through the air, enticing our senses while the waves murmur softly, providing a soothing soundtrack to the evening. We take a seat at a table outside and begin by ordering a plate of antipasti and drinks to alleviate the scorching heat. Soon, the waiter returns with our food, a colourful array of bruschetta, marinated vegetables, cheese, and olives, along with our much anticipated Aperol spritzes. I am impatient to take a long sip and dig into our food, but first, Richard raises his glass. 

“Cheers, love!” Richard says and clinks our glasses.

“Cheers!” I echo before taking a long sip of the bitter orange cocktail—the perfect remedy to the Italian heat. “Here’s to the start of our holiday!” 

He smiles softly, then reaches out for his phone. “I want to take a photo of you.”

“Why?” I ask with a frown. He knows how much I dislike having my picture taken. 

“Because I don’t ever want to forget how beautiful you are tonight.” 

Despite my embarrassment, I soften at his words and nod, offering a shy smile as he frames the shot. 

“There. Now I’ll be able to look back at this moment whenever I miss you while I’m in Boston.” I try not to let my pain show, but he catches my eyes and frowns. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said that.” 

Swallowing past the sudden tightness in my throat, I say, “It’s okay. We can talk about it. I mean—it’s such an amazing opportunity! I don’t want you to feel like you have to pretend it’s not happening for my sake.” 

Still gazing into my eyes, Richard reaches out to grab my hand, caressing my knuckles with his thumb. “I know. And thank you for being so supportive—I don’t know what I’d do without you.” We share a tender smile. “But I don’t want to stress about all that this week. While we’re here, Oxford and Harvard don’t exist. It’s just you and me.” 

“I like the sound of that,” I reply softly as I squeeze his hand, then let go to take another sip of spritz. “So, what would you like to do tomorrow?”

“We could hike to one of the other towns.”

“In this heat? Are you mad?” 

Richard chuckles as he takes a sip from his own drink. “Well, if we’re going to be drinking wine and eating pizza, pasta, and gelato all week, we have to burn calories somehow.” 

“I’m sure we can find other ways to burn calories.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively as his knees brush against mine under the table, and I have to bite my lips to stop myself from smiling. “Swimming! I meant swimming, of course.”

“Of course.” He winks, then reaches under the table to caress my thigh through the thin fabric of my dress. Gazing back into his eyes, I grab an olive and bring it to my lips, making sure to slowly lick my finger in the process. Richard swallows heavily, and I can tell he is about to say something tantalizing that will keep me frustrated for the rest of the evening—but then our waiter arrives to take our orders. 

The night unfolds in a series of lingering glances and teasing touches, and wine flows freely as we indulge in delicious food. As the last of our dessert disappears and the bill is settled, Richard wraps his arm around my waist, and we make our way back to our flat. The air hums with desire and anticipation as we fumble with the keys, and no sooner than the door is unlocked, I find myself being pulled inside and pushed against its hard surface as it is shut closed. 

Richard’s lips find mine in a fervent kiss that leaves me breathless, our tongues tangling together as his large hands roam my body, caressing the curve of my hips. One hand slides higher, finding the swell of one breast and squeezing it, causing me to arch against him. I can feel his warmth through my clothes, and my nipple hardens, demanding his mouth’s attention. The alcohol flowing through my veins enhances every sensation; I already feel myself growing wet for him, and when he coaxes me to wrap my legs around him and tentatively thrusts against me, the whole room seems to spin around us, and a desperate moan escapes my lips. 

He abandons my mouth to seek my neck and playfully bites the sensitive spot below my ear, causing me to whimper. Impatiently, I reach for his shirt, but I only manage to unbutton it halfway. He, too, is growing desperate, and when he brings his hands to my bum and lifts me into his arms to carry me to the bed, I am certain he will pin me to the mattress and immediately indulge in the pleasure we both seek. 

But Richard has other plans. 

He carefully sets me down on the edge of the bed, then kneels before me on the floor, looking up at me with a tender smile that makes my heart flutter despite the hundreds of times he has smiled at me in this manner before. I should not be surprised; Richard has a way of making every glance, every touch feel like the first time, as if he is discovering me anew with each moment, and as he wraps his hand around one of my legs, caressing it softly before moving down to my ankle, I sigh, my heart thrumming wildly in my chest even though he has barely begun. 

Unhurriedly, he undoes the straps of my heels, letting his fingers caress my skin, then carefully sets the shoes aside. He is still watching my face when he lifts one foot to press a lingering kiss on my ankle, then on the other, with a nearly overwhelming level of tenderness. Warmth spreads through me as his hands move higher, slipping under my dress to knead the muscles of my calves and thighs, paving the way for his kisses. He smirks when a trembling sigh tumbles from my lips. Damn him. He knows exactly what he is doing—knows exactly that he can turn me into a puddle with only these gentle touches, and he is fully abusing this power now. He also knows I cannot stop myself from begging for more. 

“Richard…” I whisper as he presses a series of kisses on my inner thigh, my skirt now bundled on my lap. “Please…” 

He chuckles against my skin, then looks up to meet my gaze. “You can beg all you want, sweetheart—I’m taking my time with you tonight.” 

I whimper in frustration, losing all ability to speak as he fumbles with my skirt to kiss higher along my thighs. To my delight, he soon grows frustrated and seeks the hidden zipper at the back of my dress. Once the fabric is loose enough, he pulls it over my head and tosses it to the floor along with my bra, leaving me completely bare before him save for my green lace knickers. He hastily removes his own clothes, keeping only his black briefs, before joining me in the bed as I lie on my back. But then he returns to taking his damn time, leaning back to admire me under the low light of the bedside lamps. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he muses, slightly breathless as he eyes my heaving breasts. Almost as if he cannot stop himself, he reaches out to flick one nipple with his thumb, and it hardens obediently under his care. 

Swallowing back a moan, I look up at the ceiling and gather the strength to say, “So you’re punishing me for it?”

Richard laughs, then leans in, letting his beard scratch my skin as he whispers in my ear. “You’re so impatient.” His voice has reached that dangerously low timbre, and the lust coating it is reflected in his eyes when he meets my gaze, now so close that his nose brushes against mine. 

He does not give me a chance to respond before capturing my mouth in a searing kiss, tugging on my bottom lip with his teeth. As his tongue tangles with mine, I wrap my arms around his neck, and he lets me pull him closer before focusing his attention on my jaw, then my neck, and down toward the valley between my breasts. He lingers on my nipples, and I arch into him, craving more of the pleasure he offers me so passionately. 

After covering my entire body with kisses, his tongue grazes my navel. I spread my legs in anticipation, and he smirks against my skin in appreciation, kissing the delicate skin where my thigh meets my hip, then my inner thigh, slowly inching closer to where I need him the most. He looks up to meet my eyes when he finally reaches for my soaked knickers, letting the lace caress my legs as he tugs them down, sending shivers down my spine. 

The first touch of his lips on my clit is sweet and electrifying, leaving me panting and begging for more. He caresses my folds, coating me in my slick arousal before slipping his tongue inside me, his beard grinding against my delicate skin. 

“You’re better than any dessert, darling,” he says in a low, rumbling tone, his voice vibrating against me. 

Breathless, I somehow manage to laugh. “What a cheesy line—surely you can do better than that.” Richard raises one eyebrow. “Oh, I know that look. It’s the ‘I’m in trouble’ look.” 

“You sure are,” he growls in response, gently nipping the inside of my thigh. “Maybe I will punish you after all.” 

I chuckle, but the sound turns into a desperate moan when he returns to feasting on me. His tongue continues to lazily circle my clit, and I hold onto his hair and move against him, demanding more, even though I know he will not change his tactic. And indeed, he immediately grabs hold of my hips, his strong fingers digging into my hipbones as he pins me to the bed. This is what he wants. He wants to take his time, to tease me mercilessly and make me beg, and it is not a hard game for him to play; he knows exactly how to make me squirm, where to lick, and how to press his tongue to have me on the edge of release in no time. But just as I am on the verge of shattering, he pulls away, leaving me panting and aching with need. 

“Richard!” I whimper in frustration, throwing my head back into the mattress, my body thrumming with arousal. 

He has the nerve to smirk. 

“I just love watching you squirm and hearing you beg,” he says, sending heat rushing through me. I want to hold back in punishment for torturing me so, but my body betrays me as soon as he slips two long fingers inside me, slowly pushing in and out, and my hips helplessly move against him as my mouth falls open. “That’s it. Just like that, sweetheart.” 

He continues to torment me, his fingers curling inside me with precision while his thumb circles my clit with maddening slowness, only to stop once more when I am on the edge of climax. He brings me to the brink and back down like this twice more before he removes his briefs and crawls atop me, allowing me to feel just how much he desires me. By this point, I am so aroused and sensitive that the mere weight of his body sends shivers through me, and when he finally pushes his hips forward, I groan, the sweet friction of his hardness unhurriedly sliding into me nearly too much to handle. I am already so close, and he knows that. He knows it, yet he still will not give me what I want; he will not relinquish control, not even when I wrap my legs around him, inviting him deeper. And as if he has not teased me enough, he stills, letting me adjust to him, waiting until my whole body hums with the need for release, and then he pulls almost all the way out only to slide back in, remaining painfully slow, purposely avoiding any steady rhythm that I could ride to my satisfaction.

I hold onto his broad shoulders, my nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave marks, but I am too far gone to worry about hurting him. Nothing else matters but his powerful thrusts and the rapidly growing tension in my loins. I am barely aware of what I am saying between gasps and moans, devoid of any conscious thought other than not wanting him to stop. I am begging him with my whole body not to stop, to please let me come at last. 

“You’re so desperate, aren’t you?” he groans, raking his teeth along the shell of my ear. 

I whimper, not knowing how much more teasing I can stand. “Richard, please…” 

He smirks. “Please what?” 

“Please, Richard. Please let me come.” 

He quickens his pace ever so slightly, thrusting deeper into me, and for a moment, I think he will finally give me what I want. But just when I need him the most, he slows down and pulls out, and I nearly sob from the frustration. 

I gaze up at him with pleading eyes before he captures my swollen lips in a kiss that is equally rough and soothing, a promise that he intends to give me all the pleasure I seek and more. Then, to my confusion, he rises from the bed. I only understand his intention when he urges me to turn around so that I am on my hands and knees, and I shiver as he spreads my legs open, pushing down on the small of my back to cause my bum to arch. 

The hairs on his thighs brush my skin as he grips my hips firmly, pressing himself against me with a low growl. I cling to the white sheets as his hardness teases my entrance, and then he pushes inside without hesitation, and I cry out from the pure bliss of being stretched around him like this. Pleasure coils tightly in the pit of my stomach as he fills me completely, overwhelming my senses. 

“You’ll be a good girl and come for me this time, alright?” he rasps out as he starts to move, pushing in and out. 

I whine helplessly, nodding my head. My hair is now a tangled mess around my face.  

“Say it.” 

“Yes.” 

He chuckles. “Yes, what?” 

“Yes, I’ll be your good girl, Richard,” I say breathlessly, my voice breaking, and he moans, a low and throaty sound that reverberates through me. 

“That’s right, you’re my good girl.” 

I have no idea how he can still be in control of himself when I feel like I am losing my mind, ready to shatter at any moment. He starts to thrust into me for real now, and I moan his name, surrendering to him and the pummeling force of his body. I find myself moving helplessly along with him, reduced to an animalistic need for release. 

“You’re doing so good, Lorelei. Such a good girl.” 

He pounds into me with renewed urgency, his movements becoming erratic as he chases his own climax. With each pass, he grazes that spot that makes me see stars, and the tension deep within me is almost unbearable, so much so that I cannot even beg anymore. 

But then, finally, the words I have been pleading for caress my ears. 

“Come for me, darling.” 

My body obeys him instantly, and with a strangled cry, I shatter, the heat coiled in my belly exploding into stars. My muscles clench around him as I continue to move against him, riding out each tingling wave of pleasure. Richard soon follows me over the edge, his body shuddering against mine as he spills himself inside me with a guttural groan. 

For a while, there is nothing but the wild thrumming of my heart echoing through me, my body humming with the aftershock of my long-overdue climax. I am barely conscious of Richard pulling away until I feel a damp cloth between my thighs and then a soft kiss on my hip. A few moments later, he takes me into his arms and lays me down at the head of the bed, tucking me in before pressing himself against me.

“You alright?”

“Hm.” 

He chuckles and kisses my forehead. 

“For a moment, I thought I might pass out,” I admit with a soft giggle as I wrap one arm around him, burying my face in his chest. 

“Yeah?” I can hear the pride in his voice, and I raise my head to playfully bite his neck. 

“So how many calories do you think we just burned?” 

His chest rumbles with his laughter. “Probably enough to make up for tonight’s dessert. But maybe not enough to justify the pastries we’ll have for breakfast tomorrow.” 

I laugh, his husky tone leaving me with no doubt as to his meaning. “Oh, no—whatever will we do?” 

Richard grins mischievously and leans in to grace my lips with a tender kiss, one of his hands caressing my back as I hug him tight. We remain in this embrace for a long time, exchanging soft kisses until, eventually, the exhaustion of the day catches up to us, and I snuggle even closer to him, letting the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lull me to sleep. 

Tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @mcchberry @fizzyxcustard @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @i-did-not-mean-to @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @enchantzz @myselfandfantasy @notlostgnome @laurfilijames @swoopswishsward @quiall321 @dianakc @sazzlepopp @albionscastle @evenstaredits

If you want to be added to or removed from my tag list, let me know! 💙

[lathalea]

Teaser Time: The White Raven ch6 is coming soon!

I would like to thank everyone who has supported me so far during my work on The White Raven fic, especially you, lovely people, yes, you who replied to my latest post about it. Your response was so overwhelmingly kind and really motivating 💕💕💕😭 Special thanks to @legolasbadass for being a great and extremely patient beta reader 💙

You gave me strength to continue writing this story and I have a little something for you...

✨💎 As a big THANK YOU 💎 ✨ I'd like to share a small snippet from Chapter 6 with you. Enjoy!

“He’s still breathing!”

“Thorin, wake up! Wake up, ye lazy bastard!” someone growled straight into his ear. “Damn it!”

“Dwalin, look, we stopped the bleeding.”

Those voices again. Pulling Thorin back into consciousness. Into the pain and emptiness.

“Let’s finish dressing his wound and then we’ll take ‘im to Oín,” the growling one said. 

“What’s that, Fili?” the young, familiar voice said.

“Where?”

“Over there, by that pointy rock on the other side of the river.” 

“Looks like a dead Warg to me,” the one very close to him rasped out. A pair of hands kept on doing something to his chest. It hurt. He wanted it to stop. 

“Too small for a Warg, Dwalin. It’s… by Mahal’s beard!”

“Where are you going, Fili? Wait for me!” The first voice sounded irritated.

A sound of hurried footsteps. Iron-heeled boots against ice. 

“Those two can’t sit in one place in peace if their life depended on…” the raspily-sounding one grunted. “I tell ya, Thorin, when ye’re better, we’ll send them on guard duty. First morning shift for a month. That’ll teach ‘em!”

Somehow, it made Thorin want to smile. But now, even smiling hurt.

“It’s a raven! So big! Look at its wings! Why are you staring, Fili?” the youthful voice reached his ears again.

“I think it’s… the White Raven.”

“What?! It’s just a fairy tale!”

“I’ve seen this raven before, Kili,” confidence rang in the second voice. “I think it followed us on the way to Erebor. It helped me fight off a Warg-rider in the Misties just before the eagles came.”

Thorin took a reluctant breath. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. 

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t look good. There is so much blood… Is it dead, Fili?”

“Let me see… That’s a nasty wound.”

Thorin’s muscles tensed. He wanted to open his eyes. He wanted to speak. But his body didn't want to obey.

And then he heard two gasps at the same time.

“What’s happening?”

“Do you see it too, Fili?”

“It’s… it’s magic!”

“No, it’s a shapeshifter!”

“Look! Look!”

“A woman?!”

Both voices intermingled in Thorin’s exhausted mind, making less and less sense. He needed to act. He needed to… He breathed in. The air smelled like snowdrops.

“Thorin! Ye’re back! And here I was thinkin’…” A tattooed forehead and a bushy moustache appeared before his eyes. “Stop squeezing my hand so hard!”

“Carra…” Thorin managed to rasp out. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“What are ye sayin’?” Dwalin demanded.

“Help…. her…” He tried again. “She is…”

“What? I can barely hear ye.” The last wisps of strength were leaving him. He could feel the darkness beckoning to him once again.

“Yasthûnê…” Thorin articulated slowly. “My… wife.”

The full chapter is going to drop in the beginning of next week, Thorin and Carra can't wait to share their tale with you 💙

Tagging @legolasbadass @linasofia @xxbyimm @quiall321 @i-did-not-mean-to @evenstaredits @exhausted-humxn-being @mrsdurin @emrfangirl @aduialel @littlesweetdressmaker @shiinata-library @estethell @heilith @sotwk @groovycalzoneroadmaker @sazzlep @ponycactus @nokisuu @the-lonely-pillow @myeaglesongart @i-am-the-raven-queen @ruthoakenshield @asgardianhobbit98 @thespiritoflife @justfollowtheroad @fizzyxcustard @knittastically @mcchiberry @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady and everyone who is interested in this story (stupid tumblr said I couldn't tag more people, sorry) 💙

[fizzyxcustard]

Hi! Here are my asks for the Writer Goal Ask List for a New Year! 💙

🛳 🫘 🐾 🛏

Any new ships I plan to write for? Not canon characters, no. But I have Thorin x OC which I’d like to start.

Any new stories/ideas I’m working on? I’ve started a re-write of Wrong Place Wrong Time, which will have Raymond x Amy Holland (my original character who I normally pair with Lucas North). And I have a Thorin x OC and Dwalin arranged marriage/love triangle angsty fic I’d like to try my hand at.

Do I plan to enter any writing fests? Not at the moment, no. I know there are some great writing events going on and upcoming, but I’d rather work by myself at the moment to get back up to speed with writing after a long lull.

Is there a trope I’d like to try? Mmmm, I can’t think of any at this moment in time. I feel I’ve tried most tropes. Maybe you could recommend one. 😉

Thank you for asking!!

[heilith]

You are spoiling us!! 😍 ! Okay I wish you would write something with Boromir, maybe where he is tired and reader takes care of him :") something soft ♡

@noldorinpainter So sorry it took me long. :) Also I deviated from your request, but just a little. Hope you enjoy. Oh, in case you're interested, the songspiration was Gorod 312 - Pomogi mne - loosely, but still. The art is by The-Wizard-of-Art

Tagging @scyllas-revenge @glassgulls @lathalea @fizzyxcustard @absentmindeduniverse @court-jobi @middleearthpixie @sotwk @emmyspov @evenstaredits @guardianofrivendell @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @asgardianhobbit98 and sorry, sorry if I forgot anyone, I got lost somewhere between Discord and Tumblr.

Ok, here it is:

Before the Storm

“Your lips are softer than they look,” you lean out of the kiss unhurriedly, basking in the feeling of his breath upon you face.

“Hmm?”

“Your…lips…are…soft,” you alter your own statement – and the sense of it, too, “But only when I kiss you. Why aren’t they soft, when you kiss me?”

You don’t need the answer as much as you need to see that deceitful mouth twitch and tighten, as too predictable images float up before his mind’s eye. The sight is fleeting, yet you cherish it better than any words he could say.  

“You utter the strangest things, dove,” your Captain states with no particular expression.

His eyes are still closed. Your heart forgets how to beat, shrinking in sweet pain, as you touch the very tips of his eyelashes and stroke them as carefully as you can afford it.

“I do them, too,” you whisper more to yourself than to him.

He looks so distant, and so close, and stern, and defenseless.

The armchair by the fire is built sturdy enough to hold the weight of you, curled on his laps and clinging to his exhausted self like bindweed.  

It is unkind – wicked of you to enjoy such moments, when you have to thank his tiredness for that.

For a blissfully long sting of minutes all you can think of is how his breath becomes more and more even, tamed by the movements of your hand, running through his hair over and over again.

“I must go down.”  

“Yes, do,” you agree easily, “Nobody wants you here.”

“Shall I stay and make them?” there’s no single kind note in his voice, but the gleam in his eyes makes up for it to the full.   

You allow yourself a laugh that is more of a sigh.  

“Stay and sleep. They will look for reasons to put up with you meanwhile.”

The arm, which was up to now slack around your waist, gains strength and presses you to him too hard for a caress.

You lose yourself in another endless kiss.

“Consider this one,” offers he as evenly.

You nod, not ashamed of letting him see how you’re learning to breathe again. Lifting his spirits is worth the fear of denial in your book.

“I’ll bring you the furs,” you say, as he finally relaxes back into the tattered seat.

“No,” the protest is sharp and almost order-like.

Startled by this sudden harshness, you pull back, yet he doesn’t let you to slip away too far. It is not his embrace, but his look that stops you this time. The weariness and despair in it drive a knife through your chest, wiping out everything except your love for him – that and pity you hope he’ll never know you harbour for him.

“Please, dove,” asks he under his breath, “I need…”

“I know,” you cut in, unable to bear it any longer, “Take your rest, Boromir.”     

 His palm ghosts against your cheek in gratitude, and you wish you could shut out every emotion that comes with it. You wish for it to end and to go on.

You close your eyes, too, and dissolve in his arms, longing to be reborn into a safer world tomorrow.

With him.

[lathalea]

Oh hello, Anon, how lovely of you to grace Tumblr with your words of wisdom and maturity, thank you so much, that's exactly what we all here needed today! I can't tell you how grateful I am that you took a few moments from your undoubtedly busy schedule to inform us of your dissatisfaction over the fact that one of the most prolific authors in the fandom has a real life and real-life problems, too. Shocking, right? What's worse, @guardianofrivendell has been sharing her talent with us completely for free, devoting her time and skills to her stories so that we can enjoy them now. How dare she! For all I know, she could be gardening, partying, listening to music or having all sorts of fun instead. But don't worry, I'm as appaled as you are! Allow me to add one small detail, though, my outrage is directed at you, sweet, sweet Anon. Why? Despite your words (or perhaps because of them), you seem to be very impatient about new content from Guardian. That means that you must really enjoy her work! I'm wondering, do you treat your favorite mainstream writers, artists or musicians in the same way? Do you bang on Neil Gaiman's door, demanding to see his new book NOW?! Or do you send him hate anons? I sincerely hope that deep down you are a good person and that you don't throw such tantrums. But why do you do that to fandom authors? What has Guardian done to deserve this? Has she stolen your favorite teddy bear? Has she destroyed the sand castle you've just built? Or maybe... has she badmouthed you to your best friend? No? Then tell me, why? There is a magic word you should perhaps ponder on, it is "RESPECT". It seems that you have forgotten about it, let me remind you of its definition:

Now, if a reader really likes stories by a specific writer, there are plenty of ways to support them (and that means doing positive things): 💙 REBLOG their stories (likes are not enough on Tumblr, but you can leave KUDOS on AO3) 💙 Leave COMMENTS (even a little heart or random keystrokes in caps work very well!) - that goes for both AO3 and Tumblr 💙 TELL YOUR FRIENDS about the writer 💙 SHARE LINKS to your favourite stories on Discord or in other places 💙 Send POSITIVE, ENCOURAGING ASKS (Here's a short template, if you're struggling: "Hi, I just came here to tell you I really love your work, fic <title> is my favorite! I will be waiting patiently for your new fics. Take your time, I know it will be worth it.") 💙 And, last but not least, DON'T BE A DICK.

Lots of love,

Lathalea

P.S. If you really can't wait to read more stories by your favorite author, how about you write your own stuff and share it with us? I'm waiting for links! Oh, just make sure to keep posting your fics at least twice a week, every week, all year round. Who cares about real life? I'm sure you wouldn't like to disappoint your readers!

P.P.S. Feel free to pop into my ask box too! Oh, and by the way, it's totally fine to go off anon. I'm sure if you're brave enough to write these things on anon, you'll be brave enough to do them using your real username, right?

Sending another one cause you keep ignoring my previous asks, not that I am surprised. It's not fun when people point out your bullshit empty promises huh. So I'll repeat my question, WHEN are we going to see you keep one of your many promises? I don't mind waiting for a story, but you keep promising us you're working on things, you post teasers, host sleepovers, ask for requests. You keep asking and asking without giving anything in return. I don't know why people bother to stick around. I don't, I already unfollowed you. Good luck with keeping the rest of your followers around

I keep ignoring your asks - thank you for confirming it was you - because I do not need that kind of negativity on my blog.

I don't need to be kicked when I'm already down.

I know I tell everyone I am working on things and 'it will be posted soon' and then I never do. I know. I'm a horrible person.

I know.

And believe me, I don't know why people bother to stick around either. There has been no new content since last September.

But I try. That is a promise I can keep. I try.

[middleearthpixie]

Something in the Night ~ Chapter Five

A/N: I'd like to apologize for the delay in updates, but not only has the semester started up again, but I am also knee-deep in writing my thesis in the hopes of being able to graduate this spring. So, until that's done, updates are probably going to be a bit on the sporadic side. Thank you so much for your patience! 💜

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.1k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @xxbyimm @lathalea @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

After they finished eating, Thorin looked over at Dwalin. “A word, if you don’t mind?”

Dwalin looked as if he very much minded, but still followed Thorin to the far side of the room, where they would be out of earshot of Elrond, Lindir, and Nina. “What is it?”

“I might ask you the same thing,” Thorin replied, folding his arms as he leveled a long look at Dwalin. He'd served as Thorin’s right hand for as long as Thorin could remember, and he held Dwalin’s opinion in high regard. So, if something troubled him where Nina was concerned, he wanted to know it and why. “You’d rather she not accompany us?”

Dwalin glanced over his shoulder at the table, where the three were deep in conversation, then looked back. “I would rather that, yes,” he said with a nod. “I don’t trust her.”

“Nor do I, simply because we know nothing about her. But, there are two of us and one of her and I think the numbers are in our favor.”

“They are, or they should be,” Dwalin replied, his voice lower than usual and a nod accompanied his words, “but she is no typical girl. We saw that for ourselves last eve, didn’t we?”

“We did. And she came to our aid.”

“Thorin, just because she fought off Orcs doesn’t make her automatically trustworthy or on our side. Ye know this.”

“I do. And I’m not suggesting she is. But, she had no cause to step between that arrow and me, so that weighs in her favor.” Thorin glanced over at Nina. In the light of dawn, it was a wonder he hadn’t noticed she was a girl instead of a boy. She was small, and compact, but her hair alone should’ve given her away, as it was a bushy mess of coppery curls that spilled halfway down her back. 

“Just take care. Ye don’t know her, don’t know why she stepped in the path of that arrow.”

He nodded. He understood that, of course. And he was just as curious as Dwalin as to why she’d done as she had.

“You’re right, I don’t know. Nor am I foolish enough to think if I ask, she will tell me the truth. But, she is only a girl. She would be no match for you and I together.”

Dwalin didn’t look all too convinced even as he nodded. “I suppose.”

“She won’t be. So, worry not. We will keep a close eye on her, and make certain she does not put a foot wrong.” He slapped a hand against Dwalin’s back. “So, let’s gather up what we need to take back to Erebor with us and think about being on our way. We have a bit of a journey ahead of us.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes. “Just a bit. Remember how long it took the last time we left here to go to to Erebor?”

“Ah, but this time around, we will not be being pursued by anyone—hopefully—and if Thranduíl is alerted ahead of time that we will be arriving, we shouldn’t have the same trouble we did the last time.”

“No, instead he’s dealing with the fact that yer nephew wishes to marry the captain of his guard.”

Thorin grinned at that. “Well, we will cross that bridge when we reach it. As of right now, Kíli remains in Erebor, Tauriel in Mirkwood and Thrandy isn’t at all aware of their plans.”

Dwalin chuckled. “How are those plans coming?”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Make no mention of it, please. Dís was driving me mad with trying to come up with a way to convince Kíli he really should marry someone a bit less elvish and a lot more dwarvish. But to do so in such a way as to keep him from figuring out she’s doing so.”

“And how is that going?”

They took their leave of the Great Hall before he answered with a soft sigh. “About as well as you’d imagine. Kíli feels he owes his life to Tauriel and I find it difficult to argue with him. She did save his life with her quick thinking. She’s done so twice. So, Dís is angry with me as well.”

“For you won’t step in and convince him?”

“Exactly. I see no need to convince him of anything. I think he knows his own mind better than any one of us does.”

Dwalin whistled softly as they strolled along the promenade. It was a glorious day in Rivendell, with plenty of sunshine and soft breezes, and it radiated peace and serenity. Thorin remembered it being the same the previous time the Company was in residence, but he couldn’t really appreciate it then, he’d had far too much on his mind with the quest of Erebor underway and the need to be there prior to the last light of Durin’s Day.

And now? Now he was under no time constraints at all. He could linger at Rivendell if he so chose and Elrond had no objections. But at the same time, he just wanted to return to Erebor as quickly as possible. There was so much work to be done, and he wasn’t thrilled with being away for any longer than absolutely necessary.

He sighed softly. “I told Kíli I would have a word with Thranduíl about Tauriel, so I have an ulterior motive for venturing there as well. That Elrond offered us use of the Southeast Passage is merely a happy coincidence.”

Dwalin narrowed his eyes. “I thought you didn't believe in happy coincidences?”

“No, it’s luck I don’t believe in.” Thorin managed a grin. “Now, if you will excuse me, there are few things I need take care of before we go.”

They parted ways then and Thorin sighed as he stepped into his own chambers. They were small, but like most of Rivendell, open air so it gave the illusion of being larger. He leaned back against the door, the slight twinge in his lower stomach stronger than it had been earlier. 

He didn't have to lift his tunic to know what it was. All he had to do was close his eyes and he was transported back to the very moment when Azog the Defiler ran him through with the blade that took the place of his left forearm. 

There were two scars, one above the other, with the top one paining him far more greatly than the other at the moment. Although the wounds had healed several months earlier, the scars still pained him from time to time. More often than not, he’d lurch awake in the middle of the night, sweat pouring from him, his gut burning and cramping, the same cry of pain on his lips that lingered on since the day it happened. 

He tried not to think about that day at Ravenhill, tried not to think about how he’d watched Azog so very calmly run Fíli through, how his son, Bolg, did the same to Kíli. But when he slept, he had no control over what his mind conjured. He could still hear his now gasp of disbelief as he watched, helpless to prevent any of it simply because he was too far away and he’d sent his nephews to their fates.

It was nothing short of a miracle that both boys survived. Nothing short of a miracle that he himself survived. Had it not been for Amara and her expertise and Narnerra’s gifts as well, none of the Durin boys would have lived to tell the tale.

He lifted the bottom of his rough-hewn gray henley and ran a hand over the scars. They were still raised, and mostly pink, and he flinched as his fingertips brushed them. Still sensitive. Amara had told him they might be for some time to come, but he tried not think about it. He tried not to think about that day at all, if he could help it. Why linger in the past? It did no good to look anywhere but forward and now, he just wanted to return home, hopefully with good news for Kíli, and try to put all of it behind him. 

He crossed the room to his rucksack. They both traveled light, borne of a lifetime of moving from place to place and never really having a home. After Smaug sacked Erebor, they’d made something of a home in Ered Luin, but it still wasn’t their true home, and their return to Erebor meant a return to what actually was their true home. Over the last nearly two years, Thorin and his company had been on the move— from the Iron Hills, to the Shire, to Rivendell, to Mirkwood, to Esgaroth and Dale, and finally, to Erebor.

“And when I return, I will not leave again,” he said softly, letting his henley fall back into placed before he pulled the leather ties on the sack to tighten it. “And if Dís wishes to find a way to keep Kíli and Tauriel apart, she is welcome to do it herself.”

He would not try to interfere other than to get Thranduíl to offer his blessing. All he wanted was to see Kíli happy and he knew Tauriel would make his nephew happy. 

And perhaps once that was done, he’d see about finding a wife as well. He’d considered the idea before leaving Erebor, and thought perhaps the time had finally come. He’d long fought the idea of marrying and having a family of his own, but now, he’d begun to wonder if it was time. 

But that would wait until he returned to Erebor and that was still quite the ways off. The journey would take nearly five weeks, and that only if they ran into no trouble. 

Trouble in the form of, say, an orc pack.

Why were they near Rivendell, though? That made no sense to him. The Gundabad orcs were  now leaderless, rudderless, scattered about Middle Earth the way the dwarves had been so many years earlier when Smaug the Terrible sacked Erebor. Their leader, Azog and his heir, Bolg were gone. The filth wiped clean by his blade, and by the blade belonging to a Wood-Elf called Legolas, the son of the Woodland King. 

He sank onto the edge of his bed, the sack forgotten. He owed his life to that same elf and the captain of the Mirkwood guard, for Legolas’ arrival along with Tauriel’s quick thinking and elf magic, saved his life, saved the lives of his nephews. He might not get on with Thranduíl at all, but he owed so much to the other two.

Just as he owed Nina. 

He wondered where she’d come from, where she called home, and most importantly, why had she been where she was. It made no sense, as she was neither elf nor orc, obviously, but of Man. He’d known it the moment he saw her in the Healing Room. She did not bear the pointed ears or height of an elf, although she was every bit as pretty as one. That much, he had noticed. He had little trust in Man, but he certainly could appreciate a pretty woman when he saw her. 

But why was she on the Great East Road? It was widely traveled, but rarely by lone women. It simply wasn’t safe, as the road wound through the Wilderlands and Dunland and Bree—all towns that were home to ruffians, thugs, and all other unseemly walks of life. And Nina did not strike him as the least bit unseemly. 

A gentle knock came at the door and he rose to cross, calling, “Who goes?”

“It’s Kenia, Your Highness.”

He tugged open the door and looked up at the elf. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” she gestured to the room, “may I?”

“Of course.” He stepped back to allow her room to pass, but made certain to keep the door open. Just in case. “What can I do for you?”

“I understand Miss Nina will be accompanying you to Mirkwood.”

He nodded. “It would appear that way, yes. Why?”

“I know I said she would be all right to travel, but I’d be lying if I didn’t add I was a bit concerned. I don’t think the shaft that struck her was morgul, but at the same time, it can sometimes be difficult to tell at first.”

“So, do you think she should remain here?”

“I would love her to do just that.” Kenia offered up a slight smile. “But, I have the feeling she will fight me on it and will bolt as soon as she gets the chance. I obviously cannot force her to remain here, but I am worried.”

“And you think I might be of help?”

“In a way, yes. I think that, should the symptoms strike while you are somewhere between here and Mirkwood, you would need to treat her.”

He shook his head. “I am no healer, Miss Kenia. That would be Óin and he is back in Erebor, working alongside Narnerra.”

“I understand, but you would be able to offer basic aid. If nothing else, it would give you the time you’d need to reach Mirkwood, where Thranduíl’s healers would be able to take over.”

“And how would I do this?”

“I will give you an emergency kit—kingsfoil, water charged by the light of a full moon, valerian root, lavender, and chamomile.”

“And I am to do what with them?”

“I’ve written out instructions, in the Common Speech, so anyone might be able to help. Valerian and chamomile have calming properties, the kingsfoil is an antiseptic, and I’ll include linen bandages for binding as well.”

As she spoke, she held out a small, black velvet bag. “Everything you would need, including the instructions, are in this. Keep it with you at all times. The kingsfoil alone is almost priceless. It is very near a miracle cure for most ailments, including morgul poisoning.”

He nodded. “My nephew spoke of being treated with it when he was struck by an orc’s morgul arrow the last time we ventured to Mirkwood.” 

Kenia’s hazel eyes widened. “Which nephew?”

“Kíli.”

“Oh, the dark-haired one. We all were convinced he was your son.”

Thorin chuckled. “I have heard that many times over the year. He is my sister-son and Dís and I strongly resemble one another.”

She smiled. “I must confess, the others were a bit disappointed he was not in your company this time.”

“I’ll be certain to let Kíli know he’s been missed.” Thorin cleared his throat. “So, is there anything else I need keep in mind where Miss Carren is concerned?”

“Do you know the symptoms of morgul poisoning?”

“No, but I assume it would be obvious something was wrong. Kíli went gray when he’d been struck with a morgul shaft.”

Kenia nodded slowly. “Gray is definitely one of the signs. But, before that, Miss Carren would complain of fever and muscle fatigue and overall pain, so should she mention any of those, you would need to treat the wounds immediately or as soon as you possibly could.”

“I will keep an eye on her if her health appears to be deteriorating.”

“Perhaps I might speak to His Lordship about accompanying you, just in case.”

He smiled. Elves and dwarves might not have always had the best of relationships, but since the Battle of the Five Armies, the elves of Rivendell had proven to be rather stalwart allies. “I appreciate the thought, Kenia. But, I think we will be fine. Should we run into trouble, we hopefully will be close enough to Mirkwood and their healers.”

“Well, they would be competent enough,” Kenia hedged, looking from him to his rucksack and back, “but…”

“I know. And I will not make you say it aloud,” he told her as he reached for his leather and fur great coat to shrug into. “And I agree, their healers are only competent, but several of the Guard’s captains would fit in here beautifully.”

“Captains of the Guard?” Kenia’s forehead wrinkled along with her nose to let him know what she thought of that notion.

“Trust me.”

“Well, I cannot speak to that, as I’ve no experience working with them. But, if you trust them…”

“It’s not so much I trust any wood elf,” he hedged, shaking his head, “but that I’ve seen for myself what this one particular elf can do.”

“Then if you’d rather I not ask my Lord Elrond, I won’t.”

“I don't think it necessary.”

She smiled. “Very well.”

As she turned to leave, Thorin said, “Kenia?”

She paused. “Aye?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

She gazed at him over her shoulder. “Of course. I’m rather fond of you, you know. I look forward to your visits.”

He bobbed his head. “As do I. But now, it’s time for me to head back to where I belong.”

“Well, safe travels and hopefully we will meet again. Under happy circumstances.”

“You’ll get no argument from me on that.”

She swept from his chambers and with a soft sigh, he moved out to the wide terrace off the back of the room. Rivendell was so very peaceful and he knew that, if he wished, Kenia would be more than happy to have him settle there with her. Theirs was a special relationship, born of a trust he did not share with many. She’d seen him at his worst, had seen him through his worst, and in some ways, he wished he felt for her the way she seemed to feel for him.

But, it hardly mattered one way or another, for she was unwilling to leave Rivendell and he was equally unwilling to leave Erebor now that it was finally theirs once again. Which left them at an impasse of sorts even if theirs had been a passionate, fiery love for one another instead of a deep and treasured friendship. 

He gazed out across the rolling lush lawns of Rivendell, at the waterfall in the distance, the one that spilled into an elegant gold and marble fountain that the Company had played about in during their previous visit. A smile tugged at his lips as he wondered how Elrond felt about having thirteen naked dwarves splashing about in that fountain. 

There was no more time to dwell. Despite Dwalin’s misgivings, Thorin felt no such hesitation at having Nina accompany them. He would, of course, keep a watchful eye upon her as they made their way toward Mirkwood, but until she actually gave them reason to doubt her, he would be grateful for the extra eyes and extra blade. So, with that in mind, he hefted his pack from the floor, slung it over his shoulder, and left his chambers to meet Dwalin and Nina and begin the trek home.