#princess dís

[mrkida-art]

The children of Thráin II; Thorin, Frerin and Dís.

[novanillacake]

Dís serving cunt, as she should🔥

[dyingroses]

Dís, at Thorin and Bilbo's wedding: To my new brother-in-law, I say this: You have released me, this monster is yours now!

[lathalea]

THAUC23: Scattered Through Time

This is a story written by @joyfullynervouscreator and yours truly for this years' THAUC event organized by @fellowshipofthefics. Enjoy!

Moodboard by Lathalea

Scattered Through Time

Relationships: Dís/Dís's Wife Rating: G Warnings: bring tissues Author's notes: Time is merciless. It devours every single thing it meets on its way… almost. Somehow, a handful of memories remained. Once, they formed a kaleidoscope of life, full of shapes and colours. Now, they resemble a handful of stained glass pieces scattered on the bleak fabric of the past.

These are the letters between Dís, daughter of Thràin, and her beloved wife, Víli.

Link to the whole story:

My gleam of golden treasure,

I found your gift; snuck into my pocket during our final soft goodbye? You have a skilled hand with the chisel, even if you claim it not so, and I can only hope to match the swell of love I felt when I pulled the stone from my pocket with one that my words may pull from you. 

I miss you, I love you.

I will return to you.

I swear it.

D.

***

My Princess,

My betrothed,

It is such an honour to address you with these words. I am touching my betrothal braid and can feel the pattern you plaited as if it was today and not six days ago!

And now we are apart and I will not see you for three more days… It feels like an eternity. And to think we are to be wedded in seven months! If you were here with me, in the deep mines, you would laugh and call me “too impatient for my own good”. Yes, yes, good things are worth waiting for — but you are the best one, a true treasure, and I simply cannot wait until the day we become One before Mahal the Creator.

I still cannot believe my happiness. Or... do I dare to write “our happiness”, my Princess? Our. You and me. A daughter of kings from a legendary kingdom, a descendant of Durin himself, and a simple Broadbeam lass from the mines. A story I would not believe from the greatest of bards, and yet… Sometimes I wake up in the morning and wonder if I am dreaming a beautiful dream… I am dreaming of the way you smile when you look at me, so tenderly… 

… of the afternoons we spend together, when I listen to you speaking of yet another problem with that latest contract and your clever solution… 

… of the way your hair shines in the firelight, or the way your eyes light up when I show you a new block of carving stone… 

… of the softness of your lips and the way your hand feels in mine as we walk through the newly constructed corridors of your city… our city. 

And of the way you whisper my name.

I love, adore, and worship every single thing about you, Dís. My perfect princess.

If it is indeed a dream, I refuse to open my eyes! The only thing I wish to do is to take you in my arms and hold you close until the end of days, my beloved. My wife-to-be.

Forever yours,

Víli

Read the whole story on AO3.

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[sylveongender]

love to headcanon dís as being taller than thorin, she may be the baby but, i think she deserves to be the tall one

[milesasinmorales]

Lady Dís on her throne

Click on the photo for better quality!

[yell0ws0ul]

My girl Dís Durin deserved to be in at least ONE scene in the hobbit (at least in the flashbacks😭🙏)

LIKE CMON... SHE'S PRINCESS DÍS, DAUGHTER OF THRÁIN ||, SISTER OF THORIN AND FRERIN AND MOTHER OF FILI AND KILI

GIVE MY GIRL SOME CREDIT HERE LIKE- that's just so disrespectful😡

WE'VE BEEN ROBBED

[anghraine]

Felt like a Tolkien poll:

[mrkida-art]

Bathtime with Dís

[yell0ws0ul]

MY QUEEN😻😻😻

today is dís appreciation day

every day is dís appreciation day

[rynneer]

Misty Memories Cold

When you wake in Fíli’s bed with no recollection of anything after an accident in Mirkwood, he’s ready to risk anything, even his uncle’s wrath, to bring back what you had together.

<< Beginning | < Previous | Next>

Chapter Three

The gown fits like a glove, hugging your figure up top and flaring out into a long skirt past your waist. Long, dark blue sleeves hang loosely from your arms, the velvet fluttering with every movement.

“It looks good on you,” Fíli remarks as he does your hair in front of the mirror. His fingers dance past your fresh stitches and he lays the elegant braid down to hide them. His bead glitters at the end of your marriage braid. “There. That should keep them out of sight.”

Meanwhile, you awkwardly fumble with the corset laces on your back. Too tight, squeezing your sides painfully, but then too loose, your chest threatening to spill out. “Can’t I just wear my own bra?!” you snap in frustration.

Fíli’s hands cover yours. “Breathe in, not too deep.” You do, and he tightens the laces and tucks them beneath a silver ribbon around your waist, tying it into a neat bow. He moves next to your shoulders, kneading at them in an attempt to relieve your tension. His thumb rubs over your necklace, an intricate, twisting chain Fíli explained was a gift from Thorin.

“One last thing,” he says quietly, leaving you in front of the mirror as he fetches something from the wardrobe. He returns with a silver circlet and places it gently on your brow. The delicate web wraps around your head, a star-shaped sapphire mounted in the center. It matches his own crown, nestled in his thick hair.

“You look beautiful,” Fíli murmurs with a tender smile, resting his chin on your head. Half-closed eyes sweep up and down your reflection, and his smile brings out the dimples hidden beneath his beard. Pure adoration. “I’m the luckiest dwarf in the world.”

Your eyes drop to your feet. Dwarves are not particularly fond of heels, so instead you wear sensible yet elegant flats. “Do I have to go?” you whisper. The idea of being on display for a kingdom you don’t know makes you want to crawl into a hole and die.

Fíli’s smile falters. “It is expected. You are my wife, you are Erebor’s princess—the people love you.”

“Can’t you just say I’m sick or something?”

“There will only be more questions, and I am not a good liar,” he points out. “You cannot hide in here forever.” His voice is gentle, but tinged with a warning.

Wary of what awaits you on the other side of the doors, you haven’t left the royal suite at all—not even for meals. Fíli or Dís would bring you a plate, and Kíli would slip you extra desserts with a wink. Every time someone remarked that they hadn’t seen you in a few days, the others would merely agree, comment on how dedicated you are to your duties as princess, and steer the conversation in a different direction. You duck your head in shame and turn away.

“Y/N, please…” Fíli follows you over to his desk in the corner of the room.

Pushing aside parchment and empty inkwells, you brace yourself against the desk. You lean forward and let your head drop with a sigh.

Arms wrap around your waist. Fíli leans down to whisper in your ear. “Please, Y/N,” he repeats. “I want you there with me.” His warm breath fans over your neck and you suppress a shiver. It takes everything in you not to stiffen as his chest rests against your back.

You’re slowly getting accustomed to Fíli’s… touchiness. His need to feel your body, if only to reassure him that you are real. At least he’s warm compared to the chill that lingers in the halls.

You let out a shuddering sigh. “Okay.”

Your breath catches in your chest as you, Fíli, and Kíli approach the enormous, stone doors. They are open already, revealing hundreds of dwarves milling around inside. Your pulse quickens. This is what you had feared, what kept you hiding for over a week. The kingdom all watching you while you try to pretend nothing is wrong.

The long tables have been moved to the side to create a more spacious area for dancing. You spot Bofur straddling a large barrel near the doors while Dori gives him directions. He brightens up and raises a hand in greeting as you enter the hall.

“Hi Bofur.” You squint up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get this cursed thing open,” Bofur puffs. He pauses and looks down at you. “Something wrong? You look a bit pale.”

You give Bofur a strained smile. “Just… just a bit of a stomachache, that’s all.”

He raises an eyebrow, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Stomachache, eh? I don’t suppose there’s anything else going on in there?”

You stare at him blankly. Then it hits you. “Oh! No, absolutely not!”

Bofur seems taken aback at your reaction, but Dori gives you a friendly nudge. “No need to be upset, lass. These things can take some time. Just keep at it, eh?”

“What was that about?” you hiss under your breath to Fíli as the dwarves’ attention returns to the barrel of ale.

Fili links your arms as you approach the high table. “It’s, ah, a bit of an open secret that we are—or were—trying for a baby. Thanks to a certain younger brother.” He gives Kíli a pointed look over his shoulder.

Kíli feigns innocence, but he can’t hide his mischievous smirk. “What? All I did was warn them in case you started making too much noise!”

“You have no shame,” Fíli snorts. He glances back to you. “I did tell you they’d ask questions if you claimed you felt ill.”

Thorin and Dís give you guarded looks as Fíli pulls out your chair. You try to smile, but it comes off more as a tight-lipped grimace.

“Relax, natha,” Dís whispers. “Just breathe and smile. The rest will come naturally.”

Naturally. Sure.

To avoid thinking about… anything, really, you look out over the gathering. You raise an eyebrow when you spy a small group of noticeably taller guests. There’s a familiar redhead among them. Kíli, bless his heart, is trying his best not to stare. If Thorin’s scowl is anything to go by, he’s not doing a very good job.

“Hell of a birthday party,” you mutter to Fíli. “Elves? Thorin really let Dís invite elves?”

“She talked him into it,” he says with a shrug. “Said it’s good for diplomacy, a show of good-will. They were supposed to be here for trade negotiations anyway.”

“Including her?”

“That was most likely Amad’s doing as well. She doesn’t have quite the vendetta against elves that Thorin does.” His voice drops into an even lower whisper. “She likes her, thinks she’d be good for Kíli. Keep him grounded, perhaps. All she has to do is convince Thorin.”

“She’s got her work cut out for her there,” you snort.

Fíli hums in agreement, but he too scans the crowd. “Glóin’s missing,” he comments. “Shame, I would have liked to see Gimli. It’s been quite a while.”

“Did Glóin not stay in Erebor?” It’s hard for you to fathom, the idea of breaking the Company, of anyone being absent.

“An agonizing decision. He didn’t want to relocate his entire family.” Fíli pauses and chuckles. “Gimli practically begged to come on the quest—we took bets on whether or not he’d follow–”

But his words are drowned out by music starting from the band in the far corner of the room. Excited couples move to the center of the hall.

Dís reaches across the table to shake Fíli’s arm. “It is your celebration,” she murmurs. “Go have fun.”

“I believe that is your cue, Y/N,” Kíli adds with a wink.

Fíli kicks his brother underneath the table, but stands and offers you a hand. “May I have this dance?”

“Do I know how to dance?” you whisper frantically as you take his hand. You lift your skirt as he leads you down the steps to the dance floor. “I’m pretty sure I don’t know how to dance!”

“I taught you,” he whispers back. “Just don’t think about it. Let your body do the work.” He places one hand on the small of your back, the other holding yours. A violin comes to life, and suddenly the world fades. It’s just you and Fíli. He starts off gently, slowly, picking up speed. “Don’t look at your feet, look at me. Trust yourself.”

You nod stiffly, still feeling clumsier than a newborn giraffe compared to the surprising grace with which Fíli moves. Though perhaps it shouldn’t be such a surprise, given how skillfully he maneuvers with his swords during a fight. You begin to relax into the rhythm and let him guide you through the steps until muscle memory takes over.

“Get ready,” he murmurs, releasing your hand and gripping your waist firmly. He lifts you up and spins so your skirt flows out around you. Then in one smooth motion, he dips you low. The music fades, and he straightens up, eyes locked with yours. He leans in until his mustache beads hit your face and his nose brushes yours. But then he stops, eyes worried, questioning.

There’s hundreds of curious eyes on you both, burning like dragon fire, waiting to see what their prince and princess will do next.

Conscious of your audience, you stand on your toes and carefully press your lips to his. Instantly, his arm around your waist tightens. Fíli lifts you off your feet, hugging you against his body and pulling your head closer with his free hand. Your kiss was soft, chaste. His is rough, desperate. You aren’t quite ready for it, and decline his tongue’s request to explore your mouth. You squirm in his grip.

Fíli releases you and your lips. There’s scattered applause from the room as Fíli sets you back on your feet. “I told you I taught you how to dance.” But there’s no teasing lilt to his voice, no cheeky wink to signal amusement. He won’t make eye contact.

For the rest of the night, it’s like pulling teeth to get a word out of him. Dís and Thorin exchange looks of concern when he quickly excuses himself from his own party after dessert. Then their eyes turn to you.

“He, uh… I think I’m ready to turn in as well,” you mumble. “G’night.”

In your chambers, you carefully remove your dress and slip into your nightgown, very aware of Fíli’s gaze on you. But when you try to meet his eyes, he always seems to be looking elsewhere. You sigh as you pull pins out, letting the braid fall from your hair. Silence hangs heavily, neither of you speaking a word for what seems like hours.

“Was it real?” Fíli asks abruptly.

“Was what real?”

“You know what I mean. When we danced, when we were finished… was it real?” Or was it just what was expected of you?” His voice is clipped, bitter.

You turn to look at him on the edge of the bed, shaking your head in bewilderment. “What are you talking about?”

Fíli stares at the floor. “I am trying so hard,” he mutters at last, running a hand down his face. He looks up at you, eyes dull. “I miss my wife.”

Your heart sinks. “Fíli, I’m right here.”

“But you’re not,” he replies sharply. “You are somewhere, and I cannot reach you.” He stands from the bed, taking your face into his hands. “How often do I tell you that I love you?”

“Every day.”

“And how many times have you said it back?”

You open your mouth, but the words won’t follow. It’s been a week, but you can’t recall ever saying it. Tears well up in your eyes.

As if your silence confirmed something in his mind, Fíli’s hands drop from your face. “Right, then.” He nods slowly and turns away. “I… I need to think.”

Though he hasn’t asked you to leave, he would never, you make for the door. “Happy birthday,” you whisper before heading down the hallway.

Kíli’s room? No, he probably snuck Tauriel in there. Dís? She would want to talk about it, and you’re not in the mood for solutions. What you need is quiet companionship.

So your feet carry you past the living room, down the hall, to a wooden door rimmed with gold.

“Thorin?” Your voice is small, your knock soft. For a moment, you worry he won’t hear you on the other side.

Heavy footsteps precede the door opening. Thorin looks down at you, book in hand, mildly irritated at being interrupted. He softens when he sees your expression, wide-eyed and hurt. Heaving a sigh, Thorin opens his door further. “Come in.”

You follow him inside, curling up on a plush chair by the dying fire.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing.”

“Do not insult my intelligence. You are a worse liar than Fíli.”

“Nothing,” you insist. “He just… wants to be alone for a bit. That’s all.”

Thorin snorts and shakes his head, but there’s pity on his face as well. How can the girl curled up and shivering in the chair be the same brave woman from their quest?

Your vision is almost completely obscured by tears, but you refuse to let yourself cry in front of the king. Your king. And your uncle, now, you suppose. He drapes a blanket over your shoulders.

That’ll do it. That simple, kind gesture is all it takes for you to break down.

Thorin stares at you in alarm as you sob into the blanket. He hasn’t had to deal with something like this since the boys were children. After waffling back and forth on what to do, he settles on patting your shoulder awkwardly. “Stay, if you’d like,” he mumbles. He extinguishes the candles he had been reading by and crosses back over to the enormous bed in the corner of the room.

You’re swallowed in darkness, the gloom broken only by faint moonlight and dying embers. Without Fíli’s furnace of a body next to you, the mountain’s chill creeps in beneath your blanket.

It will be a long night.

“Oh come on, every lady must know how to dance!” Kíli rolled his eyes in exasperation.

You shook your head and crossed your arms, sinking further against the mossy log by the fire. “I’m not a lady.” you grumbled. The bark dug into your back, and you missed the warmth and proper beds you had in Lake-town.

“Well then, we must teach you!” Fíli jumped up and offered his hand with a cheeky smile and exaggerated bow. “Oh, most fair and lovely maiden, may I have this dance?”

You looked over to Thorin, hoping he would scold his nephews for their teasing. But he merely raised an eyebrow at you, sucking on his pipe. It was the same guarded, skeptical look he’d given you and Fíli after the escape from Mirkwood.

Fíli hardly left your side ever since—usually dragging Kíli along. He would wrap his arm around your waist, or duck his head to nuzzle your ear and whisper things that made you snicker as you half-heartedly tried to push him away.

Even Thorin, not exactly known for being perceptive, could see what was happening. He’d seen the look before on his sister’s face, many years ago. Fíli was in love, smitten, even. There was no other way to describe it.

He had found his One.

And if the glow in your eyes and blush on your cheeks whenever you met Fíli’s gaze were anything to go by, so had you.

When your silent plea to Thorin went unanswered, you sighed and accepted Fíli’s hand. “Fine. Just don’t crush my feet or anything.” Not for the first time, you marveled at how easily Fíli could pull you up.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be the one stepping on anyone’s toes tonight,” he chuckled. With one arm around your waist, he took your hand. “Just mirror what I’m doing,” he instructed. You gave your audience a nervous glance, but Fili squeezed your hand, beckoning you to look back up at him. “Just the two of us.”

As he stepped backwards, you stepped forward. When he stepped to the side, you followed.

Fíli smiled. “There you go, you’re getting it!” But he moved a bit too quickly, and your momentum sent you stumbling over a tree root rising from your makeshift dance floor. His arm shot out to catch you, his large hand splayed across your chest. You both turned scarlet when you realized what his palm was cupping. Immediately, he moved his hand lower, but that did nothing but bring his fingers dangerously close to the forbidden zone.

“Careful,” you hissed under your breath, sneaking a peek at the Company. Everyone was watching. “You’re a bit too far south.”

He turned even redder and released you. “Maybe we can practice when we have a more… suitable venue?”

“You can’t be finished yet, Fíli,” Bofur scolded with a grin. “You haven’t shown her the best part!”

“It’s not nearly as fun while she’s wearing trousers,” Fíli grumbled. “She needs a dress for it to work properly.”

Indignation stirred in your chest, and crossed your arms, glaring up at the blonde prince. Your face was still flushed red from the almost intimate moment between the pair of you. “I’m terribly sorry I’m not lady-like enough for your tastes,” you huffed.

“It’s not that!” he sputtered with wide eyes. “It’s…” You could almost see the gears in his head turning, weighing his options to salvage the moment. “It’s like this.”

Suddenly, his hands gripped your waist, and he raised you up in the air. With practiced ease, Fíli spun both of you around. Your hair fanned out around you like a halo. Just as you finished the turn, he dipped you down low, so low you were surprised he didn’t fall over himself.

Everything went still. You held your breath while he started breathing harder. You spared another look at the Company.

they’re staring they’re staring oh god have we kissed in front of thorin before i don’t think we’ve kissed in front of thorin oh no what’s he going to–

Fíli quickly reclaimed your attention as he rubbed his nose against yours, his mustache beads cool against your heated skin. And then his lips were on yours, warm and soft, driving any thoughts of self-consciousness from your mind. He ran his fingers through your hair, and you reached up to fist your hands in his own locks, both of you pulling each other closer.

“I suppose this is official now?” you whispered when he finally broke away for air.

Fíli’s only response was a lopsided smile.

Someone let out a whistle—Kíli, of course. Fíli rolled his eyes and straightened up, his fingers still tangled in your hair.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind you. You tensed, afraid to turn around in fear of what you might find on Thorin’s face. Fíli rubbed his hand up and down your back. Searching his face and not finding any anger or defiance as he looked at his uncle, you spared a look over your shoulder.

It wasn’t what you expected. Thorin looked tired, stern, yes, but almost relieved. As if he had carried a heavy burden for miles, and finally laid it down.

“Thorin, I–” you began.

He cut you off with a small shake of his head. “Just… be good to each other.” He put a strong hand on Fíli’s shoulder and said something in Khuzdûl. You didn’t understand the words, but Fíli’s face brightened. Other members of the Company began whispering among themselves.

“What?” You exchanged a confused look with Bilbo, the only other person not fluent in the dwarves’ native tongue. “What did he say?”

Fíli just smiled. “Nothing important,” he assured you. He sat down and pulled you into his lap, pausing to press his nose into your hair to inhale your scent. You hardly imagined you smelled good, but he let his nose linger. Then he carded his fingers through your hair, ridding it of tangles and knots until he had a soft, neat canvas for his artistry. Taking the strands into his hands, he wove an intricate braid, humming as he did so.

Fíli looked again to Thorin, then Kíli. His brother nodded, a genuine, non-teasing smile on his face.

Reassured by his family’s approval, he removed one of his own beads and fixed it at the end of your new courting braid.

As soon as he secured it, cheers rose from the rest of the Company. Small bags and pieces of gold flew across camp—were they betting on you and Fíli? Kíli wiggled his eyebrows at you as his pile of coins grew.

But as the gold stopped flying and the losers stopped grumbling, you realized that Thorin had the biggest pile of them all.

He caught your eye, face perfectly impassive, and winked.

[dyingroses]

A moodboard for Princess Dís

[milesasinmorales]

Lady Dís in a ceremonial gown.

The patterns on the gown are like totally still sketches so pls be nice😭😭

Click for better quality

[lathalea]

Thank you so very much, Mistress @i-did-not-mean-to 💖💖💖 I’m glad the story amused you!

Lolll 🤣🤣🤣 I love your take! As always nothing escapes you, of course they wouldn’t bother with laundry especially when there were sugar horses and toffees to munch on! Although one thing bothers me… how on earth Thorin knew how a washing barrel works? 🤣🤣🤣

The Shrieking Monster

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ This is a gift for @babe-bombadil as part of the @whiteoliphaunt 2023 exchange. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ Happy New Year everyone! 🥳

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield & Dis & little Fili & Kili Rating: G Warnings: family fluff Author's notes: A story set in the Blue Mountains about Thorin trying to be both a ruler and a good uncle at once. Young Fili and Kili are making it a tad difficult in their own cute way. Special thanks to @naryaflame for your linguistic help with a name :) If you prefer, you can read this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Thorinuldûm - Thorin’s Halls, the settlement of the refugees from the Lonely Mountain in the Blue Mountains Amad - mother

1. 

It was a perfect morning. Thorin stretched and yawned, settling himself on his favourite chair in the kitchen. The air that whiffed into the dwarven stronghold from the outside felt warm on his cheeks and smelled like spring. As he sipped his morning tea, that strong, aromatic blend Dori bought in Bree, his sister appeared at the threshold. She gave Thorin a bright smile and, seeing her steaming mug on the table, she sat next to him. The lazy silence of the early hours of the day was soon broken by the appearance of two dishevelled pebbles, one with a thatch of golden hair, the other – with his hair as brown as a bear’s fur in winter. After the mandatory morning hugs, Thorin readied breakfast while Dís prepared her sons for the day, humming to herself. Thorin could not stop himself from smiling. His sister was probably already thinking of her visit to the market. She adored going there in the morning, especially on the days when the merchants arrived with new goods – and today was one of those days. Thorin sighed. As much as he wanted her to have a very much needed moment of respite – his sister-sons were quite a handful, to put it mildly – he was painfully aware of what it was going to mean to him. Half a day of having his eyes around his head and his ears pricked up for any unusual noises they may create… or worse – the ominous silence. In the past, there was only a handful of moments when he and Dís realised that the boys went completely silent. It never bode well. 

This day, however, started with the pitter-patter of the boys’ bare feet, chatter and laughter, and the clatter of their bowls as they ate their oatmeal. Dís reminded them to behave while she was gone, and left for the market. Fíli seemed very content about this state of things, knowing well by now that staying with his mother’s brother meant visiting various places in these halls, like forges, or assisting Thorin in other exciting ways. It was different with Kíli – his loud wails of protest at being so cruelly abandoned reverberated against the walls of their home. Thorin imagined they must have followed their mother through the corridors of Thorinuldûm for a long while. Her Little Bear, as Dís called him, was still too young to understand the connection between Mommy leaving, and the sudden appearance of candied rhubarb or his favourite cream toffees.

Distracting Kíli from his misery was not easy, but Thorin managed it by offering to take the boys for a new adventure. Their big blue eyes shone as he told them they would be going to the lower levels of the city together. It was a real treat – Kíli had never been there before and Fíli visited them only a handful of times.

Thorin had a mind to visit the Engineers’ Quarter and show the lads around while discussing some technical issues with one of the water engineers. And so they began their adventure. As they descended down the wide stone stairs Kíli stumbled and yawned, so Thorin decided to carry him the rest of the way. Soon Little Bear began snoring in his arms, and Thorin attempted to ignore the fact that his own tunic was becoming gradually soaked through with his nephew’s saliva. He also started suspecting that the moniker “Little Bear” must have surely come from the fact that Kíli seemed to weigh more and more with every step, like a true bear.

“At least he is not crying,” Thorin muttered to himself, and kept on walking. Thank Mahal for silver linings.

As they arrived at their destination, however, the situation got worse. The Engineers’ Quarter was a crowded place that smelled like tar, coal, and burned leather. Not minding the much larger adult dwarves in their soot-stained clothes who carried – or carted – their wares from one place to another, curious Fíli began rushing between them, oblivious of the chaos he was creating. He took a look at the wheelwright’s workshop here, and then he had to see the toolmaker’s booth there; he then insisted on seeing how parchment was being made, and attempted to find the place where they manufactured those shiny cogwheels. If not for his golden mane, Thorin would have lost his nephew at least a couple of times. Brór, the water engineer he had a meeting with, joined Thorin in the chase for the high-spirited boy. Instead of looking at the water supply pipeline blueprints and trying to fix a problem with water pressure, they ended up unwillingly playing a hide-and-run game to the delight of the onlookers. Seeing your own king running back and forth through the great cavern with one giggling pebble strapped to his chest while chasing after the other one must have been very amusing… for anyone but him, Thorin thought with resignation. His resignation grew even more when he noticed Fíli climbing onto a tall work table… and jumping down onto a heap of coal.

When Thorin finally caught the runaway, they were both out of breath. Although it was rather Fíli who caught his uncle – the boy ran into him and clung to his left leg as if a throng of orcs chased him.

Fíli raised his teary-eyed face to Thorin and sobbed out, “A monster wanted to eat meeee…”

“A monster? Here?” Thorin’s brow furrowed.

It took him a while to reassure Fíli that no monster was going to eat him. In turn, Thorin promised to get rid of the said monster that apparently lurked in a nearby chamber, and shrieked at him. He left his nephews in the care of Brór who tried to look solemn, but his twitching lips betrayed him. Thorin grunted and entered the chamber, carefully looking around, adjusting his eyes to the dark surroundings. And then he saw two glowing points of red. And heard the shrieking.

2.

When Thorin returned to Brór, Kíli was fast asleep once again. Leaving Little Bear in the engineer’s care once again, he took Fíli’s hand and led him to the entrance of the dark chamber. When they opened the door, they both heard the continuous shrieking now. His nephew stopped and refused to walk inside, covering his ears and closing his eyes.

“There are no monsters here, Fíli.” Thorin reassured the boy. “See for yourself.”

“Nnoooo…” muttered Fíli, hiding behind his uncle.

“Do not be afraid,” Thorin added. “Nothing will hurt you here. I promise.”

On the bench by the door stood a lantern. It took him a moment to light it. With the lantern in hand, Thorin crossed the threshold and approached the nearest lantern that hung on the wall, and then another, and another. Soon, the whole chamber was bright as day, each lantern giving off a pleasant yellow glow.

“You can come in now,” Thorin smiled encouragingly.

With his ears covered and his eyes set on the shrieking, wobbling entity in the middle of the chamber, Fíli shook his head.

“This is not a monster.” Thorin stepped towards the huge bulbous shape that made so much noise. He placed his hand on the top of the strange shaking thing and added, “This is a washing barrel.”

Fíli blinked and took a good look at it. The two red glowing points did not look like a pair of evil eyes any longer. Those were two ball-shaped lanterns standing on top of the… thing. That shrieking noise now seemed to sound like a couple of cogwheels that needed a bit of oil, and not like a monster’s screech. And the arm that seemed to reach out to grab him before, turned out to be a cast iron lever.

“A… barrel?” Fíli looked at his uncle and took one uncertain step towards him and the strange contraption.

“Correct. A barrel that washes your clothes,” Thorin explained in an even voice and at the same moment the shrieking stopped. “Look, it has just finished the washing cycle. Let me show you how it works. First, you open this hatch, like so… Watch out for the water! These clothes are clean, they only need to be wrung out and dried.”

As he spoke, Fíli slowly started closing the distance between them, his eyes becoming wider and wider.

“... but if you want to wash your clothes,” Thorin continued, “you need to put them inside, here, and add some soap suds. Then you close the hatch, pour some water here, crank this lever a few times, do this, like so, and wait for the washing barrel to finish its work!”

Thorin kept on talking until Fíli seemed to be completely in awe of this new piece of machinery, his fear completely forgotten. He peppered his uncle with tons of questions: how many cogwheels were there, how many times one should crank the lever, what the barrel was made of… and so on, and so forth. When they left the chamber, there was a big smile on the boy’s lips instead of tears. 

On their way back home Fíli exclaimed, “This was the bestest adventure ever!”

Thorin thought that sometimes being an uncle happened to be quite rewarding. Even if his tunic was still wet from Kíli’s sleepy drooling.

***

His attitude completely changed less than half an hour later, when his nephews disappeared. Both of them. At once.

Stumbling over several painfully angular wooden toys, Thorin searched the boys’ bedroom. Nothing. He even looked under their beds (twice!), but there was no sign of the boys anywhere. They weren't sitting in the common kitchen nor searching for snacks in the pantry. Nor in Dwalin’s rooms where Kíli liked to play hide-and-scare with the big warrior. There were nowhere to be found – not in the rocking chair by the fireplace, nor even in Balin’s study by that large desk where Fíli liked to play so often. Thorin closed his eyes. If he did not find his nephews before Dís returned from the market, his sister would have Thorin’s own head on a spike. The wrath of dwarf-women was ten times fiercer than the one of dwarf-men. In the case of his little sister, the number was much higher, at least a hundred times. And Thorin would do everything he could to avoid being on the receiving end of it.

There was no time to lose. He recruited Dwalin, Óin, and Halkatla, Balin’s wife, to the task of finding the boys, but they returned empty-handed. No one had seen the boys since their early lunch. Then, they were supposed to take a nap, and Thorin remembered their yawning as they closed the door to their bedroom behind him.

And now they were gone. Kidnapped? — No, impossible, Thorin thought. Dwarves cherished their children like the greatest treasures they were, and no one else was allowed into Thorinuldûm. There were no goblins nor other dangers here either. It felt as if the boys magically disappeared in a puff of smoke. Thorin looked around the wide corridor he stood in, but he found no traces of the missing boys.

“Have you checked all of their favourite places?” Halkatla asked, her red-and-silver braids clinking as she turned her head towards Óin.

“Aye, we did,” he nodded. “Not a sign of them.”

“Those wee rascals! I bet they are up to somethin’.” Dwalin said. “They remind me of us. Remember that time, Thorin, when we were around their age or so, and half of Erebor was lookin’ for us all day long?”

“It would be difficult to forget it,” Thorin admitted. “We wanted to avoid another boring lesson with our tutor…”

“...and instead we went to explore the mines! What a shame we lost our way,” Dwalin grinned and nudged him. “It was fun!”

“Aye, fun on an empty belly. If only you had not forgotten our food,” Thorin replied, relieved that his nephews had a proper meal at least.

“If only ye had not forgotten that map ye were supposed to borrow from your father’s desk,” Dwalin chuckled.

Before Thorin could form an adequate riposte, a mousy-haired dwarf approached him.

“M’lord, Master Brór says that the pipeline is fully functional again,” the messenger bowed.

Thorin gave him a nod of thanks. At least he brought a piece of good news. Master Brór was a skilled engineer, and the way he handled Thorin’s own sister-sons…

“Either way,” Dwalin continued, “we had a real adventure on that day, hadn’t we, Thorin?”

A thought appeared in Thorin’s mind. Master Brór. An adventure.

“There was one place where we have not searched yet,” he turned to his companions.

“I am listening,” Halkatla tilted her head, reminding him of a curious raven.

“The Engineers’ Quarters.”

***

Master Brór was more than happy to receive words of thanks from Thorin in person for fixing that pipeline issue once and for all. Despite Thorin’s hopes, he had not seen Fíli or Kíli since they left the Engineers’ Quarters with their uncle earlier that day. Dwalin muttered a curse under his breath.

“Well, that’s it. I’m goin’ to check the workshops,” the warrior said.

“I’ll take the ones on the left, you take the ones on the right,” Halkatla followed him.

“Let’s go,” Dwalin replied, his voice trailing off as he walked away. “And those wee cave bats would better be there or I swear…”

Master Brór addressed Thorin, “I will spread the word as you requested, my lord. Someone must have seen them, I am certain of it. They could not have simply disappeared.”

Thorin agreed with him and began his own search. The rocks could not have swallowed them whole! Magic was out of the question as well, there had to be a logical solution to this! Thoring pulled at his short beard in frustration. Wandering through the area and looking for any signs of his nephews in places they visited earlier that day, he wondered if Óin had any luck. The healer was waiting at their home in case Fíli and Kíli returned there on their own. Perhaps the three of them were already sitting by the fire, with Óin telling the boys countless amusing stories, while Thorin and his companions were checking every nook and cranny on the lower level, going out of their minds with worry. He raised his head, listening to a peculiar sound and trying to figure out its source. It sounded like… shrieking. It was not at all difficult to recall Fíli’s eyes shining with fear, awe, and then curiosity at the sight of the washing barrel.

Without thinking, Thorin turned his steps towards the chamber that housed the “monster” Fíli had been so afraid of not so long ago.

When Thorin arrived at his destination, the door was ajar. Thorin could hear the shrieking very well, but there were other sounds too. Very familiar sounds.

He took a deep breath and shouted, “Dwalin! I found them!”

***

When Thorin stepped inside the chamber, the sounds became even clearer. One of them he identified as uncontrollable giggling, and the other one, slightly muted, sounded like: “Woooo! Woooo! Wooooo! A carousel! Woooo! Faster, Fíli! Woooo!”

Thorin breathed out a sigh of relief only to be struck by a pang of dread a moment later.

Fíli stood by the washing barrel, cranking the lever, grinning from ear to ear, and laughing. Kíli was nowhere to be seen, but his enthusiastic shouts seemed to be coming from inside of the barrel. Inside, not outside. Thorin swallowed; he considered screaming in terror, but something told him that this was most definitely an example of behaviour unworthy of a king. It took him a moment to melt the ball of ice that was forming in his stomach. He closed the distance between him and the barrel in a blink of an eye.

Thank Mahal, the hatch was open. Inside, Kíli sat with his back against a wall of the large metal container inside the machine, surrounded by various articles of laundry, with a happy grin on his face, and a stray sock on top of his head. A wave of relief washed over Thorin.

“Uncle Thorin! Uncle Thorin!” Fíli exclaimed. “We’re playing carousel! Want to jump in?”

Thorin did not.

“It is time to return home, boys,” Thorin simply said, taking Kíli out of the barrel. His clothes were damp and he smelled like those violet flowers Dís liked so much, but other than that, he looked happy, and what’s more important, he was in one piece – just like his older brother.

“But uncle...” Fíli started.

“Your amad will be home soon. Do you not want to see what she bought at the market?”

“A sugar horse? She promised!” The boy recalled his favourite treat.

Holding Kíli firmly against his chest with one arm, Thorin held out his hand to Fíli.

“Let us go and see,” he said with a smile as his nephew’s tiny hand grabbed his.

There would yet be time for scolding and for a conversation about not sneaking out anywhere alone, but for now, the only thing that Thorin wanted was to safely bring his little rascals home.

He only hoped they would manage to reach their halls before Dís returned.

***

When Dís crossed the threshold of their home later in the afternoon, she was greeted by complete silence. Her sons were nowhere to be seen, which was very suspicious. They were always the first ones to run to her and see what she brought them this time. She expected Thorin to welcome her and help her unpack her basket, as usual — but he was not there either. Was this that ominous silence she dreaded so much whenever her boys were executing another of their silly mischiefs? Not really. It seemed as if their home was empty… until she heard a familiar sound coming from a nearby chamber. Dís put the basket on the floor and tiptoed deeper into their halls.

The picture that unfolded before her eyes was the last thing she had expected. Her brother was half sitting, half lying on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him, his head resting on the backrest, his eyes closed. Fíli was cuddled up to his uncle’s side, his hair tousled, making her think of a skein of golden yarn. Kíli lay on the opposite side of his uncle, his head resting on Thorin’s lap and turned towards her. He had his thumb in his mouth. Dís could clearly see the darker stain of drool on her brother’s trousers and stifled a giggle. 

All three of them were asleep, of course. And all three of them were snoring in perfect unison. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine that she had a working sawmill in front of her.

This scene was too adorable for Dís to interrupt it, so she decided that she would let her three boys sleep a little longer. There was no harm in a little nap, after all. Besides, she was tired, and there was still some space left on the sofa…As she drifted off to sleep beside them, her last conscious thought was: “Why do all three of them smell like my lavender laundry soap?”

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[lotr-sesa]

ONE WEEK left until the LotR SeSa posting deadline!

We hope the writing is going well. ❤️ We already have a few finished fic in the moderation queue, yay!

We still have a few prompters without claims, and as our goal is to make sure each prompter gets at least one fill, we're hoping you can help us out by signal boosting or having a look at the unclaimed prompts to see if one might tempt you. There are summaries of the prompts below as AO3 unfortunately doesn't allow for linking directly to individual prompts. You can find all the prompts HERE.

Gen prompts:

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power

Characters: Elanor "Nori" Brandyfoot, Poppy Proudfellow

Prompt: "simple, easy, fun for all. :D Just anything gen with both of them or one of them."

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types

Characters/pairing: Gimli/Legolas Greenleaf; Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli

Prompt: "Third wheel Aragorn to Gimli/Legolas. During the quest Aragorn observes the new and blooming love between his friends but as they travel as the Three Hunters he has no one to talk about it. So he writes in his journal or in unsend letter to Arwen or just thinks before sleep (or any other form the author might come up with) about everything he sees happening between Legolas and Gimli."

AU prompt:

Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types

Character: Fíli

Prompt: "An AU in which Fíli survives Azog and Bolg's Durin killing spree and becomes the next King Under The Mountain. I welcome whatever other character inclusions that your heart desires, though not in a way that makes them the focus over Fíli. I would especially love Dís as King Mother and Balin or Dwalin as Closest Living Relatives."

Kinky prompts:

Fandom: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types

Characters: Elrond Peredhel/Thranduil; Elrond Peredhel, Thranduil

Prompt: "Daddy/Doll - soft BDSM and Dollification. Elrond's got mad caregiving vibes, Thrandy in my canon is a hot mess constantly. Things don't work out for him because he doesn't have anyone to help him be soft again. Losing his wife turned him into a jerk. That protective steely exterior is pushing everyone away. Make Elrond tear it down! That man can make anyone sweet! Let's be real we all know Elrond is lonely too. He needs someone to love after losing so many people in his life, especially his wife."

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types

Characters: Gimli/Legolas Greenleaf; Gimli, Legolas, Thranduil, Elrond Peredhel, Glóin

Prompt: "Daddy/Princess - soft BDSM, BDSM lifestyle rules daily. It's finally time to come out to their parents about their relationship. How will this go over? Can they exist as a happy family and put aside racism? you decide! (We know at the very least Elrond genuinely can)"

Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth

Characters: Annatar/Celebrimbor; Annatar, Celebrimbor

Prompt: "I would love something in which sub!Annatar teaches Tyelpe how to do shibari/rope bondage/predicament bondage, especially if they are playing on Tyelpe's scientific curiosity and desire to learn new things. Super bonus points if Annatar doesn't come."

Romance/relationship prompts:

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth

Characters: Elrond Peredhel/Ereinion Gil-galad; Elrond Peredhel, Ereinion Gil-galad, Celebrían

Prompt: "Just the High King and his Herald and an exploration of their relationship."

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power

Characters: Elanor "Nori" Brandyfoot, Halbrand

Prompt: "if anyone chooses to go there, I applaud you. :D Basically "what if Nori meets Halbrand and not The Stranger", and it goes decidedly NOT gen. Anything from cute one-sided crush to messed up dubcon is totally welcome, just please make sure Nori is an adult (by hobbit standards) if there's any sexual content."

Fandom: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth

Characters: Eönwë/Sauron; Mairon, Eönwë

Prompt: "Something set in the Earliest Days of Arda (despite the Eonwe/Sauron tag... I guess that covers Mairon before he became Sauron too). Perhaps Mairon and Eonwe sneaking off together behind their Valar's backs when they should be working? Something a bit more innocent/playful - though an E or M rating is fine - but with hints of Mairon's awful personality peeking through."