#tauriel x azog

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Worthy Prize

This is for @tolkienpinupcalendar Monster Fucker May

Pairings: Azog x Captive! Tauriel

Rating: E

Themes: Smut / NSFT | Dead Dove

Warnings: Captivity | Non-consensual drug use | Kissing | Marking | Rough Sex | Non-consensual sex | Monsterfucking

Wordcount: 2.1k

Summary: After returning to his keep, Azog is presented with the elf he captured during a raid.

Minors DNI | 18+

Azog made his way to the raised dais and took his place in the lord’s seat. His mother followed him. She took her customary place—standing by his right shoulder—and she waited for her son’s newest conquest to be presented to him. 

“An elven bedslave,” Uthri, his mother, said. “One who was the leader of the Elvenking’s own guard, no less. You must be well pleased, my son.” 

“I am indeed.” Azog glimpsed at his mother. Age and a lifetime of war had not diminished her in any way. She stood proud and tall as always, with a thick spear in her hand and her soot-black hair oiled and pulled up to form a neat top-knot. A scar cut across her face from the hairline on one end to the cheek on the other end, barely missing her right eye. A permanent reminder, he knew, of the last battle she fought. “I trust she did not trouble you and your attendants on the journey here.” 

Uthri snorted. “She fought us like a vicious cat,” she said, and she smiled. “But she is docile now, thanks in no small measure to the herbs we make her consume with her meals. She will give you no trouble in the bedchamber; you have my word on this.” 

Azog nodded in approval. “That is good,” he said, “for I have had my fill of violence for the present. And I do not wish to bloody this elf before I have had the opportunity to grow tired of her. Have her brought in.” 

His mother thumped the butt of her spear against the floor and called out an order. A commotion was heard just outside the hall Azog used for audiences—a shuffling of many boots, the rasping voices of other orcs. Another command rang out. Someone was told to make haste instead of tarrying. Then the high, wooden doors were pulled wide open. An elf with fiery red hair and her hands bound in front of her was pulled along by several orc warriors clad in boiled leather armor. A few had shirts of mail as well due to their higher rank. They walked up to the dais without saying a word. 

“There she is, my son.” Uthri uttered with pride. “The reward that you have earned with your victory.”

The High Orc chieftain regarded his newest conquest with barely disguised interest. Her hair was washed and brushed. It shone like new copper. Her robe was orc-made—linen woven from flax, with a thin leather belt around her waist. It was a slave's robe—unembroidered and a drab brown, for it was Tauriel's new fate: to serve another as their thrall. Her deep green eyes had glazed over, as if she were not fully in command of herself. The shadow of a bruise could be seen around her right eye, a sign that she had been struck not long after she had been placed in his mother’s hands. Azog’s gaze cut back to his mother. 

“As I said before,” Uthri remarked, her tone crisp, “she fought us like a vicious cat. I had little recourse but to strike her. Otherwise, we would not have been able to continue with our work.”

“I am not offended in the slightest,” her son returned. A thrall brought him a cup of ale. He drained it all in one swallow and gave it back for the thrall to take. “And I assume the herbs are the cause of that clouded look in her eyes?”

“Indeed, my son.”

“Good.” Azog rose. A closer inspection, he decided, was necessary.  

Tauriel stood where she was, unable to fully move her limbs of her own accord. It was as if her body was not truly her own. She blinked her eyes in a vain attempt to clear her head. One of her last clear memories was of fighting orcs along the southern border of Mirkwood. Other elves fought beside her. She grappled with one of the fell creatures until she got the upper hand and slit its throat with her blade. The few who remained fled back to the shadows from whence they came, and the elves halted their attack; they were certain they had won. Letting down their guard was an act of sheer folly in the end. Other orcs, who had kept themselves well hidden, ambushed them while their attention was turned elsewhere. Her fellow warriors fought long and hard before they fell to orc blades. She, on the other hand, was kept alive and taken captive by the one who overpowered her, the tall, pale orc who led the raid. It was the same tall, pale orc who stood before her now, the one who placed her in the hands of the one who struck her after he took his leave of them, and she tried to fight her way to freedom.

“Pretty, for an elf,” he murmured, circling her. “And with hair that has been touched by fire, all crimson and gold. You will serve me well, I think.”

“You…” Tauriel struggled to frame a reply. It was as if she did not even possess the will to form words. She closed her eyes and attempted to speak again. “You are mistaken… filth.”

Azog threw his head back and laughed, a chilling sound. “How I relish the names you elves call us!” He cried, amused by her insolence. “Defiance is futile, she-elf. You will serve me. This is the fate you have brought upon your head.”

“I… I will not… serve you,” Tauriel managed, “in any way.”

“You are mistaken, elf,” Azog countered, appreciating all that he saw. “So very mistaken.”

Uthri and her attendants had done their work well. They had scrubbed the blood and dirt off of Tauriel, making her pleasing to look upon. The bruise around her eye had nearly faded, and the cut along her left cheek had already begun to heal. The scar was now a pale pink instead of the angry red it was before. Azog leaned in and breathed in the scent of birch oil that clung to her skin. 

“Have her taken to my bedchamber,” he said, satisfied. The orcs who escorted Tauriel made haste to obey. They dragged her down a narrow passageway leading to their lord’s chambers. Azog stayed behind for a while. There were other things he wished to discuss with his mother: orders that had to be sent to other orc hordes, various tasks that had to be seen to. By the time he made his way into his bedchamber, Tauriel was already abed with her hands bound above her to a bedpost. Azog disrobed himself. Boots, breeches, belt and armor all formed a small pile on the dark stone floor. Tauriel heard him. She struggled to free herself from the bindings around her wrists, and failed. It was as if her strength had deserted her.

Is it the food? she thought. Is there something they make me eat along with the rest of my meals? Something that leaves me like this—weak and unable to fight or defend myself? Tauriel lay amidst the pelts, powerless to stop the orc who loomed above her. Azog sat down by her side and brushed his hand over her hair, almost in affection. She shivered when that hand—large and callused from years of wielding a heavy mace—drifted to other parts of her.

“You fight fiercely, she-elf,” he observed. “Claiming one such as you for myself is a great honor indeed.”

“I… I will never… be yours,” Tauriel spat weakly.

Azog laughed again. His meaty fingers brushed over her breast and tightened on her nipple through the fabric of her robe. It sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine.

“You will never be mine,” he echoed, and he pinched hard. Tauriel gasped in shock and pain. “And yet you are here, bound to my bed, unable to free yourself, and unable to call for aid. Learn to make peace with your new lot in life. There is no escape for you now.”

The orc chieftain wasted no time after that, so eager was he to savor all the captive elf had to offer. He leaned down and kissed her, kissed her until she was silent, kissed her until she felt like she could no longer breathe. Tauriel whimpered when he pinched cruelly, inflicting even more pain, and when she felt the heat of his kiss, one that was all teeth and tongue. The sounds she made encouraged Azog to go further, and go further he did. He moved to rest over her, pinning her down and caging her to the featherbed with his own weight. Tauriel writhed beneath him. Her feet struggled for purchase against the pelts. It inflamed him even more.

“Do not try to fight, she-elf,” Azog growled in her ear. “You will not succeed.”

He forced her thighs apart with his and clasped her bound wrists with one hand, pressing them deeper into the furs and impeding further movement. His other hand moved lower and lower until it found the hem of her robe. Tauriel shivered again; this time it was when her robe was pulled up to her waist and cold air flowed over her exposed flesh. She closed her eyes, silently enduring the assaults of her captor’s mouth as much as she endured the assaults of his hands. The one at her wrists tightened around them. The one caressing her thigh and bruising it slid underneath her smallclothes and tore them apart. Then he pressed himself against her, and she braced herself for what was about to follow.

Azog was big. Painfully so. And he was far from gentle. When he breached her with a single thrust and sank home, he let out a low moan and delighted in the sharp cry he incited from her. Tauriel was given no time to rest or grow accustomed to his intrusion. Her captor sought her lips again, then her throat, marking it with his teeth while his arm circled around her thigh, lifting it up and forcing himself even deeper inside of her with each thrust of his hips.

When they first overcame the elves, Azog was certain he was going to kill her like they did the others. Tauriel led the Elvenking’s guard, and she had killed more orcs than he could care to count. Then he stayed his hand, thinking she could better serve him alive than dead. Now—lost within the warmth of her body and roaring his pleasure loud enough for anyone outside his chambers to hear—he was glad he decided to spare her life. 

My mother was right, he told himself. This one is indeed a worthy prize.

Tauriel, on the other hand, was frightened. She found that her own body was turning against her. Pain yielded little by little to pleasure, and her cries and whimpers slowly turned into moans.

I cannot let this happen, she despaired. I cannot allow myself to yield to his embraces. He cannot have yet another triumph over me.

Tauriel’s vow to not yield proved to be a failure. She felt him despite her efforts not to do so, and she felt a great deal of him—his hot breath against her throat, his thick, large thighs pressing against hers, the brute strength that lay within his hands, and the strange but heady sense of bliss that would catch her unawares whenever Azog thrust into her. He took her without mercy, striking a place she had not felt before and making the world go dark behind her eyes when he did so. Her release came upon her without warning, an all-consuming feeling that made her twist against the pelts while she cried out long and deep. The sound of it was enough to unravel the orc above her. Azog groaned while he spilled his seed inside of her. He thrust until he softened and then he slid out of her, his needs sated for the moment.

“Rest and regain your strength, she-elf,” he hissed. He slipped out of bed and crossed over to a little table where he dipped his hands into a bowl full of water to wash the sweat off his face. Tauriel sighed. She welcomed the reprieve, however short it may be. “For I am far from finished with you this night.”

Tauriel shuddered. Her body already ached in ways she could not describe. Nevertheless, the opportunity to rest was a welcomed one, even if the one who offered it had other plans in store for her after she opened her eyes. She whispered an answer that she was certain would appeal to him, and then she closed her eyes.

I will escape, she told herself, One day I will find a way out for myself, and then I will kill them all.

She did not hear the doors to Azog’s bedchamber open, nor did she not hear the command for more of the herbs she was made to consume before. She had already yielded to true sleep.

[middleearthpixie]

The Ties That Bind ~ Chapter Three

Summary: Although Erebor is his once more, Thorin knows there is still a great threat to the peace of Middle Earth. Azog is gone, but another has taken his place and has sworn to finish what Azog began. Erebor is back, but it’s sadly lacking in protection and as much as he hates the thought of it, Thorin knows there is one thing that will guarantee the safety and continuation of his line.

War is coming and all Eirlys of Mirkwood wishes to do is fight alongside her brother Legolas and the other elves, united with Men and Dwarves in their attempt to quell the renewed tensions between them and the orc army of the north. But, her father, Thranduíl has other plans. Unite his kingdom with the newly reestablished kingdom of Erebor and use the power of both to defeat the orcs.

An arranged marriage that neither side wants, but both sides need. But what happens when the two sides realize that maybe—just maybe—being together isn't quite as bad as they'd thought...

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Eirlys of Mirkwood

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.8k

Read on AO3.

When supper was ended, Eirlys watched as musicians took their places at the far end of the hall, near where doors opened to the terrace overlooking the southern portion of the forest. Her mouth went dry as she realized she would most likely be expected to dance with her fiancé.

Her fiancé. A man she’d exchanged but a handful of words with and who though her spoilt and pampered. Wonderful.

Perhaps she’d be able to sneak away from the dais whilst her father was otherwise occupied with speaking to their guests. 

It was not meant to be.

As she rose from her chair, Thranduíl tuned toward her and smiled. “Not so fast, Eirlys.”

Her spirits sank, even as she forced a smile back. “I’m afraid I don't know what you mean, Papa. I was but stretching my legs.”

“I feel it only proper for you and Thorin to begin the festivities this evening.”

“I was not aware we’d be celebrating anything this evening.”

Thranduíl’s smile wavered, but remained in place. “Did you think we wouldn’t celebrate? A wedding and not just any wedding, but a royal wedding, calls for celebration, don't you think?”

Ordinarily she would have agreed and under any other circumstances, she would have been the first one out on the dance floor. She loved to dance, loved a good party, and Mereih Nuin Gilliath, or the Feast of Starlight, was one celebration she looked forward to all year. At Tauriel’s wedding to the dwarf prince Kíli last autumn, she’d danced a hole clear through her slipper. She was normally the first one on the dance floor and the last one to leave it.

But she wasn't feeling quite so celebratory this night. Even so, she bobbed her head. “Of course it does, Papa. I’m… I’m simply adjusting to the knowledge that I’m getting married when I have yet to even be courted.”

A hint of color rose along her father’s high, sharp cheekbones. He knew as well as she did the importance of courtship. It was a way to determine whether a couple was compatible enough for marriage, as when elves married, it was for life. And while she hadn’t had any particular suitors in mind, she had always thought she would at least be courted prior to being married. 

“Eirlys, you know why this must be different.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I like it.” At her father’s long look, she sighed and nodded. “No, of course I understand. I suppose I am but adjusting and doing so very badly.”

Thorin stepped up behind Thranduíl and she forced a smile as he said, “I do hope I am not interrupting.”

Thranduíl turned toward him. “Not at all. In fact, I’ll let the two of you talk.”

“Papa, wait—”

He didn't give her the chance to protest, but stepped around Thorin and strode toward Legolas, who sat with Balin and Dwalin on the opposite side of the Great Hall. Swallowing her words, Eirlys turned to Thorin. “I hope you are settling in.”

“I am, thank you.” A hint of discomfort flittered across his face. “Would you care to dance? Although, I must warn you, I am not the most graceful of dancers.”

“That would make us even, for neither am I.”

He held out a hand. “Shall we, then?”

Eirlys stared down at that hand. It was massive. Where elven hands were slender, with equally long, slender fingers, Thorin’s were far different. The hand he offered was large and square, with thick, slightly stubby fingers. Heavy gold rings adorned his fore-and-ring fingers on that hand and Eirlys thought she could use those rings as napkin rings, they looked so big.

“Of course.” She laid her hand in his, the difference between his darker skin and her own almost-porcelain skin striking. As their palms touched, a jolt raced along her arm, one that had her snapping her head back to look at him. 

But if he felt it, he gave no indication. Instead, he closed his fingers about hers and gave a gentle tug to lead her out to the dance floor.

Once they were out there, Eirlys wasn't exactly certain of what to do, as she had no idea how dwarves danced. Thorin, however, seemed to have to such trouble, easing an arm about her waist before catching her hand in his free one. She was several inches taller than him, but it certainly didn't seem to trouble him in the least as they began to move.

Up close, she realized his eyes were not dark, as she’d assumed, but were instead a pale blue, beneath heavy brows that were as black as the long tangle of thick hair that fell halfway down his back. Hints of silver streaked through the otherwise raven curls, were woven through the braids at his temples, even threaded through his full beard. She had to admit, the dwarf king was strikingly handsome. 

She’d never been this close to any of the dwarves and where she would have thought they stunk of moss and dirt, she was instead treated to a heady scent of leather mingled with crisp mountain air. Her first instinct was to inhale as deeply as she could, but knew he would find it odd if she did. 

“I wish to apologize for what you overheard,” he said as they swept along the perimeter of the dance floor. 

“For saying it or for saying it loudly enough for me to hear?”

“My words were not meant for your ears.”

She held his gaze. “That is hardly an apology, Your Majesty. But then again, if you truly feel that way, perhaps you shouldn’t offer up an apology uttered only to assuage your own guilt.”

“My own guilt? Why should I feel guilty?”

“Oh, I don't know. For making a snap judgment about me when you know nothing about me, perhaps?”

“You assume much about me, Princess.”

“Do you mean to suggest that, although we’ve not exchanged but two words until this moment, you know me?” She shook her head slowly. “Because that is quite the skill, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’ve had enough dealings with elves, and your kin, that it seems quite safe to assume I know enough.”

“Do you know what happens when you assume, Your Majesty?” She kept her voice as light and airy as she could. “It makes an a—”

“Ah, there you are!”

Eirlys turned to her left to see a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Thorin smiling up at her. Lady Dís. She was the mother of the dark-haired elf who’d married Tauriel and unlike her king, not dour or brooding at all. 

Thorin glanced over at her. “What is it, Dís?” 

“I was going to see if I could steal you for a moment, but since you’re busy—” Dís’ dark blue eyes slid in Eirlys’ direction and her smile widened—“I have no desire to intrude.”

“It’s hardly an intrusion,” Eirlys replied with a smile, pulling away from Thorin. Placing a hand against Dís’ shoulder, she gave the dwarrowdam a gentle nudge toward him. “Enjoy yourselves.”

She didn't wait for Dís to reply, but turned on her heel and strode away from the dance floor, hoping for a moment that she was creating a new relationship. One that would absolve her of her need to marry Thorin in the end.

“Why did you do that?”

This came from Legolas, who lounged near the doorway, arms crossed, one foot planted flat against the wall. She moved to his left, out of the doorway, and looked over at him. “Why did I do what?”

“Let her break in on you.”

“You know as well as I do, I want nothing to do with this upcoming marriage, so if Thorin just happens to fall for another—” she paused at his smirk—“what?”

“He’s not going to fall for her, Eir, any more than I might fall for you.”

“What?” She turned her gaze back to the couples on the dance floor. “Why not? They seem quite compatible.”

Legolas chuckled, his sleek blond hair rippling like golden water as he he shook his head. “Compatible? She is his sister.”

“What?” 

Eirlys’ heart sank as Legolas nodded. “She is. I spent quite a bit of time with her at Tauriel’s wedding. She’s the more outgoing of the two of them.”

A heavy sigh rose to her lips as she linked her fingers at the small of her back. “I am not getting out of this wedding, am I?”

He looked over at her. They were quite often mistaken as twins by outsiders, for both favored their father with their nearly-white blond hair and wide blue eyes, but he was older by nearly five years.

Those blue eyes narrowed some as he shook his head. “I doubt it. Father worries. You know this. The sooner you are safely tucked away somewhere, the more soundly he will sleep.”

Her gut curled at his words. “Tucked away? Do you both think me so incapable when you know—you know—I’ve trained just as hard as you.”

“I know. And he does. But, he—you know why he is as he is.”

She knew. It rankled, but she knew. And as she looked back out at Thorin and Dís, and to her surprise, Thorin smiled at his sister. It was amazing, how a smile could change a person’s appearance, for he went from handsome to incredibly so with that one smile.

“Eirlys?”

She started. “What?”

“You’re staring at the dwarf.”

“I was not.”

He grinned. “Oh, but you were. But worry not. I’ll not tell anyone. You can go on pretending you hate him.”

She sighed softly. “I don’t hate him, though. It would be easier if I did, I think.”

“You act as if you’d like to see him buried in a very deep hole.”

“I just—I don't want to be treated any differently than you are. And for Papa to simply decide—without even asking me how I felt about it, mind you—that this was how it had to be? I don't think I can be faulted for being less than thrilled about it.”

Legolas’ eyes narrowed. “He didn't ask you first?”

She shook her head. “No. He called me into the Throne Room and told me this was the plan and why. Apparently he and Thorin had worked out just about all of the details before even telling me it was in the works.”

Surprise widened his eyes now. “I thought he’d have at least mentioned it to you. It’s been planned since Tauriel’s wedding.”

She stared at him for a long moment as his words sank in. “What?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’ve known about it since the night of and thought you did as well.”

“No.” Anger bubbled deep in her belly. “I was kept in the dark about it all. Not one whisper of it reached my ears.”

She looked about for her father, finding him at the back of the Great Hall, deep in discussion with one of his aides. Her first instinct was to confront him right there and then, but before she could even take a step, she thought better of it. As much as she hated this situation, as much as she resented not even having her opinion asked for on the matter, she knew no malice clouded his decision. She knew why and understood, even if it rankled just the same. 

With that, she sighed softly and pushed away from the wall. “I think I need a bit of fresh air. Excuse me.”

Without waiting for Legolas to respond, she skirted him to make her way out of the Great Hall and down the long corridor leading to her own chambers. The walkway was open on her right, the forest just beyond her reach as a cool breeze wafted through the trees. It was chilly, and snow occasionally found its way through the canopy to the forest floor, but she preferred it over the more interior walkways, especially when she had much on her mind, as she did now.

So even Legolas knew she was to be, for lack of a better word, given to the King Under the Mountain and yet no one thought that perhaps she should be made aware of their plans for her life. That Legolas knew and said nothing hurt, as they were always each other’s strongest ally. For him to know something of this magnitude and not say a word to her? She saw that as a betrayal and that stung. It stung badly.

With a soft sigh, she sank onto the woven railing. The forest was silent, and it was a silence that only ever came with a snowfall. She loved the snow, and wondered if this would be the last snowfall she might ever see, since she would soon be living beneath a mountain. A bit dramatic, as she thought she’d most likely be allowed to venture outside once in a while, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Nothing would be the same. 

She didn't know how long she sat there. Time had a way of losing all meaning when she was lost in her own thoughts. And tonight, she was definitely lost in her own thoughts. She’d spent more and more time in her own head since her father told her of his plan for her and not for the first time, she wished her mother lived still. She wanted so much to ask for her advice on her situation, on how to deal with a man like Thorin of Erebor, who saw her as a nothing more than a helpless girl accustomed to being waited on hand and foot. 

But most of all, she wanted to hear that all would work out as it was supposed to work out. Because she was terrified that she was going to be trapped with a husband who would not make life miserable for her, but one who would ignore her instead. 

“Your Highness?”

She started at Madris’ low voice and twisted to peer over her shoulder as her maid strode toward her. “I didn't worry you, did I?”

Madris nodded. “You did, but I was hoping it was because you and your intended had decided to sneak off for a bit.”

Eirlys managed a humorless laugh. “Worry not, Madris. He is hardly enamored enough of me to wish to sneak off.”

Madris sank onto the railing alongside her, her clasped hands in her lap. “Why do you say this?”

“He thinks me spoiled and pampered and a right silly girl,” Eirlys replied softly, her cheeks growing warm. “I daresay he certainly does not see me as the sort worthy of sneaking off with.”

“Then he is a fool,” Madris said bluntly, “and not worthy of your thoughts.”

“Be that as it may,” Eirlys shook her head, “it still stung to hear.”

“I imagine it did, but he will learn the truth sooner or later, once you’re married and you might take delight in making him eat his words.”

That brought a wan smile to her lips. “If I ever do, you mean.”

“You will,” Madris reached over to pat her hand, “and I’ll wager the satisfaction will be sweet. We both know pampered is not exactly a word anyone who knows you wold describe you.”

Eirlys offered up a long look. “But spoiled is?”

“You are loved, my lady. And the only child who is not spoiled is the one who is not loved. And whether or not you see it now, His Majesty does love you.” As Eirlys rolled her eyes, Madris clicked her tongue against her teeth. “He does and you know this, Your Highness. And in time, you will see this to be true.”

“Be that as it may, at the moment, I am feeling decidedly unloved.”

“I know. But it won’t remain that way. I’ve known your father for a very long time, and I’m positive he would not have chosen this man if he did not think you would be happy in time.”

“Madris—”

“Trust him, my lady. You will see.”

Eirlys slipped down from the railing, shaking her head. “I have no choice, Madris. That decision was made for me and now everyone has to hop for the best. But, if it doesn’t come to pass, their lives aren’t the ones that will be ruined, will they? No. It will be mine and I’m supposed to smile and hope for the best.”

“It’s all any of can do. And just remember, things work out as they are meant to, even if you do not see it at the time.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Eirlys replied softly. “It’s not nearly as comforting for me, I’m afraid.”

“I know. And I know patience is not your strongest attribute, but you must try to be patient as well.”

Early sighed softly. “I know. And I’m trying, but… it is not easy.”

“No, it isn’t.” 

“And Papa isn’t perfect. He makes mistakes.”

“This is not one of them. I refuse to believe otherwise.”

“You have no idea how I hope you’re right, Madris. Because I do hope that you’re right.”

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[the-vast-corner-of-the-galaxy]

The Way It Comes To Be- Chapter 1 (DIRECTOR'S CUT)

Notes:

Hi everyone, I am back from the dead. This is my first time writing any LOTR/The Hobbit story, and since I am just starting to read the book series, this story will solely be based on Peter Jackson's The Hobbit movie adaptations and will take place between the end of The Battle of the Five Armies and maybe the beginning of The Fellowship of the Ring.

This story will also be a long-ass slow burn, so please bear with me.

***

Works summary: Thorin Oakenshield survives the Battle of The Five Armies, so what happens now?

Link on Ao3

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Thorin x Bilbo, Kili x Tauriel

Chapter summary: The aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies.

***

Chapter 1: End of the Battle

Azog had Thorin on the thin ice, ready to strike him down at once. The powerful and power-hungry Orc was finally ready to finish with the line of Durin and one of the biggest threats of Sauron once and for all. He had him completely disabled and helpless, with his blade just inches from his chest.

Thorin, on the other hand, knew what this could mean. It could mean the end of his life, considering his damaging wounds that were causing him extreme pain. Additionally, Azog, even though he was also on the verge of dying, could simply stab him and kill him.

Even if Thorin had already fulfilled his destiny of reclaiming Erebor, he still felt like he still had to do something. It was moving inside his mind and intuitively knew that whatever it was, would be worth it.

He still had to keep going.

As his life flashed before his eyes, the last words Azog told him were echoing in his ears: "You cannot hide. I see you. You are nothing."

"You are nothing."

These words became louder and louder as every second passed. For a moment, Thorin did believe it. He failed everyone: his family, his kin, his people, his friends, and himself. He let an unnecessary war enter his kingdom, which was driven by his selfishness and greed.

He could easily be nothing.

However, Thorin did not fully believe that.

Nobody was perfect, at all. People had flaws, yet virtues. Good actions, yet questionable ones. He made mistakes, but he also did really good things. He carried his people forward after they lost their home, led them in times of anguish, and took back his home.

He was something.

He was someone.

He was not just a king, but also a leader; dwarf; a brother; a friend; an uncle; a companion; and a living being. Instead of being filled with despair with these words, they fueled Thorin's determination.

"I am not nothing." Thorin pressed under his teeth. He swiftly kicked Azog's shins, temporarily stunning Azog, and with the few seconds he had, rolled onto his right side and stood up, the sharp pain in his body temporarily freezing him.

"You underestimate what I am," Thorin growled, eyes locked on Azog. He grabbed Orcrist, and when he saw Azog coming towards him, he sidestepped his lunge and sliced the Orc’s head off his body. It slid on the ice blood oozing everywhere. Then, the lifeless body of Azog plopped to the icy floor.

There was a thick silence on the battlefield as Thorin stood victorious. His heart was filled with pride and relief while it pounded in his ears. He felt like he could breathe fully again, but then he felt a jolting pain zap through his body, and collapsed on the ground.

The pain all over him was unbearable and sharp. Thorin couldn't stand up and was too weak to even call for help. He also began to cough, so his voice became too hoarse to even speak clearly.

However, he then saw a small figure running towards him.

It was Bilbo.

Bilbo was running as fast as he could to Thorin. He already saw him collapse on the ground, so he knew he had to help him immediately. His head was swarming with worry and desperation to help his king. Thorin was very strong, so he knew that he would be okay… would he?

"Bilbo," Thorin called weakly. The hobbit lay at his side quickly and checked his wounds, making sure he didn't injure him any further.

"Thorin" Bilbo whispered to him, relieved to see the dwarf, "Stay still." Bilbo's body was filled with adrenaline and pain all at once. He quickly examined all of the wounds on Thorin's body, which were plentiful and a bit graphic. The wounds did impact Bilbo's sight, but he did his best to not make his worry too obvious in front of the king.

Thorin could sense concern in Bilbo's breathing and in his hands examining his wounds, but he was extremely glad that Bilbo was beside him. The hobbit's hands were fiddling all over Thorin's body checking for injuries and tending to them with the little supplies Bilbo carried.

"Thank you, Bilbo." Thorin rasped, his voice strained but filled with gratitude.

Bilbo nodded, hazel eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I thought I had lost you," he admitted quietly, with his voice trembling.

Thorin managed a weak smile. "You're too stubborn to get rid of me that easily, my friend."

"That may be true," Bilbo chuckled through his worry.

They shared a moment of quiet relief, the sounds of battle fading away, with the only sound remaining being the wind. Bilbo continued to tend to Thorin's wounds, his touch being gentle and purposeful.

"I owe you my life," Thorin murmured after a while, looking at Bilbo. The hobbit's delicate features still were mesmerizing to look at even when covered with dirt and blood. Thorin felt like he could stare at him continuously.

"You owe me nothing," Bilbo replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We're in this together, Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Together," he echoed softly, knowing that their profound bond has been tested and strengthened through the trials of battle.

As Bilbo met Thorin's gaze, their eyes locked. Thorin's blue star eyes, deep and resolute like the ocean, held Bilbo's light hazel, which was even more striking than before.

"Bilbo," Thorin whispered, his voice barely louder than a breath, filled with an unspoken longing. He hesitated, his hand trembling slightly as tried to reach Bilbo's face, a mixture of desire and pain evident in his expression.

Bilbo faced the dwarf, his eyes still locked on his. He felt his heart race as the oceanic blue eyes held him in an eternal trance. He noticed Thorin's hand trying to reach somewhere, his shaky hand brushed against Bilbo’s. The hobbit leaned closer, trying to see if he would say something.

"Thorin?" Bilbo muttered, leaning in at an almost dangerous distance. He scanned the dwarf’s face, which was covered in blood, and tried to decipher the emotions drawn on his face. Thorin looked like he was searching for something in the hobbit, his blue eyes gazing at him intently. They stood like this just for a few moments, until Bilbo’s fingers slid over to Thorin’s reaching hand, squeezing it gently.

"Don't try to move, you'll only hurt yourself more," Bilbo reminded him, smiling. Thorin only nodded and focused on the grey and cloudy sky above him.

As Bilbo gently tended to Thorin's wounds, the air between them was charged with unspoken words. Thorin's breathing steadied, and switched his gaze back on Bilbo, now with a mix of gratitude and something more profound.

"Bilbo," Thorin began, his voice still husky from exertion, "I… I never thought I would see Erebor reclaimed, let alone with such steadfast companions by my side."

Bilbo looked up from his task, meeting Thorin's gaze with a soft smile. "You've led us well, Thorin," he replied warmly. "And we've fought together every step of the way."

Thorin nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "I owe you more than words can express," he admitted, his hand finding Bilbo's briefly in a gesture of solidarity.

Bilbo squeezed Thorin's hand gently, his eyes conveying reassurance. "You owe me nothing, Thorin," he insisted softly. "We're friends, through thick and thin."

The moment hung between them, a silent acknowledgment of their shared journey and the deepening bond forged in battle and hardship.

The silence was then cut off by loud and distant voices coming from below the mountain. Both men's attention was captured by the noise. They heard footsteps in the snow getting closer and closer to them. Bilbo held his sword defensively to shield Thorin and himself.

"Is anyone else here?" The voice echoed. Bilbo and Thorin soon realized it was the blonde elf called Legolas. The tall figure came closer to them along with another one. It was the redheaded elf, Tauriel, who was carrying a barely consci ous Kili on her back. Behind them was Thranduil on his moose, with Fili draped around it.

"Hey!" Bilbo shouted, waving his hand up in the air. Legolas noticed the signal and ran and ran towards the hobbit and the dwarf king.

"Let's get him up and take him down to Dale," Legolas said. Bilbo nodded and both raised Thorin and carried him down the mountain with the two other elves. The trail down to Dale was incredibly long and painful, especially since there was more snow. When they got there, the image they encountered was heartbreaking and painful.

There were thousands of wounded beings in every corner, ranging from dwarves to humans and even elves. Those unhurt were tending to the injured and walking around with medical supplies. All the dead bodies were carried near the tumbled walls to bury later. This was the consequence of war, and it was devastating.

As Thorin was being carried, he saw his cousin, Dain, being tended by a human women. He looked despaired and depressed, for he had lost so many soldiers in a battle that wasn't exactly his to fight. Dain looked at Thorin but then lowered his gaze, shadowed with resentment.

After walking around the streets for a while, Legolas found an empty spot and set Thorin down. Tauriel also laid Kili carefully on the ground, and then Legolas got Fili off the horse and placed him on the ground next to his brother.

"I have other business to attend to," stated Thranduil coldly. "I will be back shortly." He left on his moose, and it was just Tauriel, Legolas, and Bilbo left to tend to the wounded.

"Kili is extremely hurt," Tauriel said, carefully tending Kili's wounds. They were more severe than Thorin's and were also bigger. Kili was also unconscious, which made Tauriel even more concerned.

"You can have these," Bilbo handed Tauriel some of the leftover supplies he used for Thorin. She thanked him and continued to assess the young dwarf's wounds. Bilbo moved over to Fili and tended his wounds, which were also critical. He used the last of the supplies he had on Fili, but he was still losing a lot of blood.

"I will get more supplies," Legolas announced. "I can also fetch one of our healers to tend the blonde dwarf." Tauriel nodded and went back to searing all of Kili's wounds. When she finished, she sighed in relief and placed one hand on Kili's face and the other on his hand.

Bilbi noticed this gesture. "You care a lot about him, don't you?" He asked.

"Well, yes, I really care about him," Tauriel admitted. "I know what you are thinking: how can an elf care for a dwarf when their kins are mortal enemies? Here is the thing: I never quite understood the rivalry between my people and the dwarfs. I was simply taught to hate them since birth and loathe every part of them… until I met Kili when we captured you and the rest of the company."

Bilbo remembered when the Company was captured by the elves from Mirkwood. It was quite the experience and one of the million times Bilbo used the ring he found to his advantage. He remembered Tauriel as the fierce warrior who captured them like a trophy with no mercy, but never quite imagined she'd take a liking to one of the dwarves.

"Well, I honestly never imagined you to have a bond with someone like Kili," Bilbo said. "I thought you were with Legolas."

"Legolas is a great warrior and person. He is brave and loyal to the core, but our relationship doesn't go beyond friendship. He has expressed his love for me multiple times, which got him in trouble with Thranduil, but other than that, I just see him as a companion in battle."

"I didn't expect that," Bilbo admitted, "I didn't know Kili was so charming and charismatic when it came to the area of love."

"He is, really," laughed Tauriel. Both of them remained in a comfortable silence treating the three dwarves. After a while, Bilbo noticed that Thorin had fallen asleep and smiled, looking at Thorin's features.

Tauriel noticed Bilbo's focused gaze on Thorin. "I can tell you care about him," she pointed out and looked at Thorin, who was profoundly asleep from exhaustion.

Bilbo blushed, but was too stunned to respond. Tauriel was right, but something inside him made him lose all the words he knew to describe his current feelings. Thorin meant so much to Bilbo, more than he could understand. He changed his life permanently: Thorin’s reclaim of Erebor was the only event that got Bilbo out of the comforts of the Shire, gave him a family, and new purposes in life.

But now, with the battle behind them, a gnawing uncertainty crept into Bilbo’s mind. What would happen next? Would Thorin still need him? Would he even want Bilbo to stay? Would he return to his old life in the Shire?

Bilbo's gaze lingered on Thorin’s sleeping form, feeling a deep ache in his chest. Could he truly return to the Shire and leave all of this, leave Thorin, behind? The thought of walking away felt unbearable, but what if there was no place for him in this new chapter of Thorin's life? A part of him longed to stay, to carve out a life here in Erebor, but another part— the quiet, sensible side that had once only dreamt of peaceful afternoons and second breakfasts—feared he would be out of place in this grand, restored kingdom.

What about Thorin? Bilbo couldn’t help but wonder. Did Thorin feel the same connection that was brewing within him, or was Bilbo just another companion in a long line of adventures? The unspoken question weighed heavily on him, a question too terrifying to ask but too important to ignore.

He glanced back at Tauriel, her words still hanging in the air. He didn't have an answer to the path that lay before him, but surely, eventually, it would come to him. It had to… right?

For now, all he could do was wait for the moment when Thorin would open his eyes and perhaps offer him the clarity he so desperately sought.

It would come, eventually.

[thesheelfsworld]

My Sun Prince

Warning: None, this is pure fluff

Pairing: Fili Durin x reader

Summary: Fili always looked beautiful, but when the light grazed him, he would glow.

Author's Note: I was definitely inspired by one of @rucow 's drawings, and I hope this gives you the same soft vibes as her drawing gave me. Make sure to check out their art, it'll give you all the feels 🥰

As always, English is not my first language, so please be nice and enjoy!✨

Reclaiming the mountain had been no easy feat, but three years after the battle, things had finally begun to settle. 

In a few weeks' time, the annual Durin’s Day ball will be held and the party preparations were already in full swing. 

As a member of The Company of Thorin Oakenshield, my presence in the festivities was not only expected but required. All 15 of us had our own tradition of gathering outside on the balcony to drink and smoke together and remember how blessed we were to make it out alive, all of us. Even when there was a moment there when it did not seem like it. 

Thorin, Fili, and Kili had been gravely hurt in battle, and when the eagles brought back all three Durins unconscious, the relief of having survived turned sour. Oin could not tell us with certainty if they were going to make it. Their wounds were too severe. That is when the elves’ help came led by a distressed Tauriel, who stood by Kili’s side the entire time. I could have not been more thankful to the elven healers who swiftly got to work and contain their bleeding wounds. 

The three days after the battle were spent pacing restlessly from one side of the infirmary to the other as I helped the healers in whichever way I could. Did they need more gauze? I was on it. More clean rags? I would fetch them. Anything to be useful, but still be close to our wounded. More than once, my feet would take me to the side of the infirmary where my friends rested. Oin had explained that Thorin’s wound was the biggest one, Kili’s wound had luckily spared his spine, but Fili had been wounded in several different places. He had been injured where Azog’s sword had slain him, but the drop afterward had broken both his legs and arm, fractured some ribs, and dislocated a shoulder. All these injuries caused internal bleeding, which they were able to clear, but they were still not sure if he would make it. And if he did, his recovery would be a lengthy and difficult one. Hearing this, I felt devastated. My heart plummeted and tears soon filled my eyes.

After a few days, Oin’s initial diagnosis improved. All three Durins were responding positively to their treatments, although they remained unconscious for the most part.  

Once I was done with my duties for the day, I picked up the habit of looking after the trio, cleaning them slightly, and making sure they were comfortable. I liked talking to them as well, telling them everything that was going on inside the mountain. When I was done, I would usually sit next to Fili and hold his hand. During our travels, I found myself smitten with this dwarf. He was always kind and easy to talk to, and such a fine warrior as well. We worked well together and I genuinely liked fighting alongside him. But the road is no place for romance, and the stakes of the quest were too high. I could not afford to be distracted by my feelings, because those distractions could have cost me my own life or somebody else’s. And yet, with the object of my desires laying upon that bed, unmoving and pale, I could not agree with my previous reasoning. I should have said something, anything. I was so afraid of losing him, of never hearing him speak again, or seeing him fool around with his brother, his eyes alight with mischief and mirth. 

Getting caught up in my musings, I lost track of time and was not sure how long I had been sitting there. The place was dimly lit by the light of the candles, the light rays of sunlight no longer bathing the hall. It must have been night already, surely dinner would be ready in a few. However, I did not wish to leave just yet, I wanted to stay with Fee a while longer. 

Each time I looked at him, a lump would form in my throat. He was so beautiful. The light of the fire would always dance in between the strands of his hair, making them glow and his mustache was neatly braided and resting against his lips, which although pale and chapped, looked as inviting as ever. How I wished I could see them curl into one of his charming grins.

A sob left my throat before I could stop it.

“Mahal, please spare them. Bring them back, bring him…” my voice was barely above a whisper. My prayers were meant for no ears but for those of the Maker. 

And answer my prayers, he did. 

With a lot of effort, patience, and time, all three dwarfs made it out of unconsciousness and through their recovery successfully. And still, I had yet to confess my feelings to a certain prince.

At the moment, however, I had my hands full trying to escape the ever-watchful eye of a certain princess who was set on making me try every dress in existence for the ball. Each dress bigger and stuffier than the last. Do not mistake me, I have gotten along with Dis from the moment I met her. We bonded pretty quickly not only over the stupidity of her kin for splitting up on that mountain, but over our worry for them. But now, I could not run faster to get away from her. 

I had duties to attend to, duties which she canceled in order to try even more dresses than we did the day before, and the day before that one. 

Looking back over my shoulder to make sure she had not spotted me, I did not see where I was going and ran into a very strong chest. 

“Oh, I am so sorry! I did not see-” 

The words caught in my throat when I looked into the eyes that accompanied such a sturdy chest. 

“Oh, hi Fee, how are you?” I tried to sound nonchalant, though I could feel myself blushing.

However, Fili’s expression showed nothing but amusement, and his soft smile fully lessened my embarrasment. 

“I  am alright, just got out of a meeting. You, on the other hand, seem like you are being chased after, are you okay?” He could not contain his chuckle as he asked me if I needed help. 

“I am being chased, actually, by your mother. Please help me,” I pleaded with my best puppy eyes and grabbed the lapels of his coat, “she is making me try all these truly dreadful dresses again, and I can not take it anymore.”

This dwarf really dared to burst out laughing and never had a scowl form so quickly on my face. 

“Yes yes, laugh it up! But next time you are getting scolded for a prank gone wrong, I will not hide you, just wait and see,” and I turned to leave. 

Fili quickly sobered up and grabbed my arm, “There is no need to go there. I am sorry for laughing, it’s just good to be on the other side of her fussing for once, that’s all.”

“Yes, well, it is my first time on this side and it is getting a bit much.”

“I understand, and as a prince, I feel it is my duty to save a damsel in distress. So, if you please” he extended his arm to me “I will hide you from dreadful dress fittings and fusing mothers” 

“My hero!” playing along, I sighted dreamily and leaned on his shoulder, a hand resting against my forehead as I pretended to faint. Fili’s laughter echoed on the walls of the hall and we sped away to the gates of the mountain. 

Arm in arm, we made our way to the edge of the forest that surrounded Erebor. 

“You have no idea how long it has been since I have come out for some fresh air,” I commented. 

“Me too. Uncle has been keeping me very busy these past few weeks”

“So I have noticed. Kili too has been missing a lot lately, but when I do catch sight of him, he is following after Tauriel. It is actually very cute,” a slight smile grazes my face to hide the feeling of longing that loomed in my heart.

“Yes, he has also been very busy, but still makes time to see her. I probably should have done the same, I’ve missed you” 

At that, my eyebrows shot up so high, I was confident they could have met my hairline. I looked at him and found him sitting next to me but staring at the ground. Regaining my senses and taking advantage of this moment of vulnerability, I took a moment to look at him properly. It had been some time since we had had any time together, just the two of us, and I wanted to enjoy it. The golden light of the sun setting in the west took me back to that night in the infirmary when he had been fighting for his life. If I thought then that he was beautiful, now, with the sun kissing his skin and his eyes wide open and full of life, he was ethereal. Absolutely breathless, I tried to answer him, say anything to keep the conversation going, but nothing came out. 

I opened and closed my mouth a few times until Fili turned his entire body to face me. 

“What is it? Do I have something in my face?” he jested.

And I could not help but giggle because yes, he did have something on his face, absolute beauty. 

Fili’s eyes opened wide and his cheeks turned a deep crimson red. Perhaps his skin was getting too sensitive to the sun after being underground for so long, I thought. 

“You really think I am beautiful?” 

I frowned, how did he …? Oh god, how embarrassing to have said that out loud, but then again, he didn’t look put out. Far from it, he looked happy.

“Yes,” all the air left my body with that only word. 

“Yes, I do,” I said, this time with more confidence.

Fili beamed at me. A bright light that seemed to be coming from his very soul out through his eyes and smile blinded me, and I was sure that with him by my side, no dark days would ever come again.

“I think you are very beautiful as well”

His reply made me smile, and the words I have been wanting to say for months -years were now demanding to get out. 

“I feel the deepest kind of love for you, Fili, and I do not know how to hide it anymore.”

“Then don’t,” his eyes became glossy and he took both of my hands in his. “Do not hide it, give it to me instead, and I will give you mine.”

Tears spilled from the corners of my eyes. My heart soared with the knowledge that my affections were returned. 

“Do you truly feel this way?”

“Yes, amralime. I have loved you for as long as I have known you. I loved you after every battle and during our hardest days.” Both of his hands came up to cradle my face and joined our foreheads together. With eyes closed, he continued, “I loved you when you were the first thing I saw after the battle and I loved you when you stood by my side during my recovery. And with each day that passes, I love you even more.” 

My hands grabbed the back of his neck and pushed him to me. Our lips met and all I could focus on was Fili. How he tasted, how he felt, how soft his hair was and how well his hands fitted on my body. 

Warmth filled my entire being, not from the sun, but from the golden prince who was finally in my arms.

[luna-writes-stuff]

CHAPTER XXXVII

A Kili X OC fanfic

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Tw: Blood, battle, detailed descriptions of pain, wounds, losing consciousness. Gore. Like, serious gore. Took my horror fan knowledge out of the closet for this one. Drowning, hypothermia/description of hypothermia. Angst. Exhaustion. Seriously heavy stuff. Don’t send hate mail

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The chapter where I show you I can write gore

The hill seemed almost empty after Bolg was slain. Dwalin dealt with the last orcs, as Legolas and Tauriel could be seen in the distance, aiding the relentless dwarf. Raewyn, Fili, and Kili had found themselves near the frozen lake above the waterfall, watching their king fight the orc who had started it all. How long the pair had been fighting already, they could not tell. But they saw the fatigue of the dwarf, and the blind hits of the enormous creature.

All three were still suffering from their injuries, but refused to show it as they stood there, waiting on their opportune moment to jump in. Neither had decided to halt each other, knowing that if one should stand down, all three should. But the anxiety still hung heavy in the air.

Turning her head towards Kili on her left, she gave him a short nod, her eyes falling back on the white orc rushing towards Thorin. Upon her nod, an arrow shot through the air, halting the orc dead in his steps. Raewyn's eyebrows raised in surprise as she followed the weapon, forming her lips down in an impressed nod.

Azog's head spun to the three in the distance, a Dwarvish arrow imbedded in his right eye. A pained roar escaped him as he reached for the dart, ripping it out in anger, blood spurting angrily from the wound.

"Didn't know you had it in you." Fili teased, a playful smile on his face as he watched his younger brother lean his shoulders back in self-accomplisment.

"Azog!" The Asha shouted, successfully drawing his attention to her alone. "You took something from me!" She began, raising her arm in suspense, showing the orc the decapitated head of his only kin, before throwing it towards him, the part rolling over the ice until it came to a halt in front of Azog's feet. A trail of blood was left where the head had rolled, and Thorin looked at the three in bewilderment.

"So I took something from you!"

Slowly, the orc's head rose up to meet the violent eyes of the Asha, his gaze darkening immediately. A short grimace passed through Raewyn's features as she watched the dark blood of the creature drip down his chin due to the arrow in his eye, but she washed the look off quickly. Instead, she reached for the axe in Fili's hands, who had lifted it for her for the time being.

"Any other clever attack plans from that beautiful brain of yours?" Kili whispered, watching the giant Gundabad orc run towards the three.

Swallowing harshly, Raewyn adjusted her look on her axe, as Fili now used both his hands to wield his sword. Her eyes quickly met Kili's as she shrugged absentmindedly: "Don't miss."

With a ferocious swing, a large rock landed between Kili and Raewyn, separating the ranger and the blonde from the youngest prince.

"Where did he get that?!" Fili exclaimed in surprise, watching in horror as the stone slowly retreated, forming cracks in the ice as it went. Beneath them, the frozen lake began to tremble, tiny cracks forming where the boulder had lain.

"The ice..." Raewyn mumbled, still aware of their enemy nearing the three. Raising her head in alarm, she yelled: "Get off the ice!"

Almost immediately, all three ran away from the growing ice hole, sliding over the floor as they narrowly missed the swing of Azog's blade. Noticing his plan hadn't worked, the orc stopped running, now turning around quickly to spot the four now grouped together.

"Fili..." Thorin uttered, seeing his nephew lean his weight on one leg, blood streaming down the other. At the call of his name, Raewyn's eyes fell on the wounded leg, cursing inwardly as she realised the binding hadn't been strong enough.

"Try not to use it too much." She settled on, instead of commenting how he should abandon the field. She knew he wouldn't; not now. And he seemed grateful for her words, for a tiny nod came from him in response.

Then, the orc struck again, throwing the chained boulder towards the four, causing another - smaller - sinkhole to land in front of them. Abandoning tactic, Thorin ran at the larger creature sword wielded in his hand. It took a while for the three to process that the sword their king was wielding was Orcrist: the blade he had lost in Mirkwood. They had no time to wonder when he'd regained it.

"Cover him." Raewyn mumbled to Fili, referring to his brother, who had raised his bow again. He could have argued with her. He wanted to. But he chose to remain silent, merely nodding his hand, knowing bickering would be pointless.

With that, she took off running after the older dwarf, axe held tight in her hands. She watched how Azog had already attacked Thorin, rendering the poor dwarf off balance. As he stumbled back, she jumped up, swinging her axe towards the orc, slashing him just slightly at the top of his breastplate. Her back muscles tensed with every move she made, but she refused to yield or even show her struggle to the opponent.

As the orc recovered from the blow, Thorin was given time to regain his balance, standing next to the Asha as he offered her a nod of gratitude. From behind them, an arrow came, and lodged itself just above the blade in Azog's arm. Raewyn couldn't suppress the smile on her face as she watched the creature reach for it and tear it out in frustration.

In a fair fight, she would have given him time to recover. To stand up properly and give him a decent change. She would have given him the opportunity to decently rid of the arrow and attack him when his attention was back on her. She wouldn't attack while his eyes were scanning the wound angrily.

But this wasn't a fair fight. The blade of her axe lodged just above the knife stabbed into Azog's arm. Her strength wasn't enough to cut it off, but it left a deep mark, red pooling down the blade as it became visible through the skin.

Then, Thorin struck below his knees, forcing the orc to buckle slightly. Unfortunately, he did not fall, only utter terrifying wailings as he stared at his severed arm, nearly severed again. Taking their distance as a precaution, Thorin and Raewyn awaited his next move anxiously.

A second arrow flew, now missing its mark due to the sudden movement of Azog. His arm was raised threateningly, pointed straight at the two who had caused this damage. His eyes had darkened and his teeth were bared. It didn't scare Raewyn anymore. She had seen it in Bolg, and he was gone now. Azog would soon follow.

A roar like none she heard before echoed over the hills, all originating from the orc she and Thorin had maimed so badly seconds ago.

Azog ran at Thorin first, not even giving Raewyn the time to respond appropriately. His blade hit Thorin's as the dwarf struggled to protect himself. Azog's other arm was too free for the ranger to advance safely, and she found herself struggling to find an open window.

Again and again, Azog's blade beat down on Thorin's, each one with more pressure and strength until the dwarf was kneeling on the floor to keep the sword away from his body. Arrows flew poorly, trying to hide the relentless orc, but his movements had become too unpredictable, and he had become a difficult target.

It wasn't until Azog managed to hit the dwarf on his shoulder that Thorin's blade finally fell. There, defeated, the king lay on the ground, staring up at his terrible foe as his protection had now faded. A malicious grin appeared on Azog's face as the blood from his arm and eye slowly dripped onto the dwarf. This was the opponent's win. There was nothing else Thorin could have done in that exact moment. It would've been his room, had he stood there alone.

But he hadn't.

Temporarily distracted by his victory, Raewyn yanked the chain from Azog's hands with strength she hadn't even known was hers to wield. Instead of wielding the entire boulder, she merely grabbed the end the orc had held, using it as a chain whip to distance Azog from Thorin. Dragging the rock over the ice behind her with every step she took, she forced the orc back, hitting him hard in his chest, knocking him down successfully.

Behind her, she could hear the ice break, and she could feel the stone was now heavier than ever. It was then that the horrible realisation dawned upon her that the rock was sinking. And it would take Raewyn with it if she was not quick enough.

Suddenly ceasing her movements, she took slow steps back, her face set in a teasing smirk as if she wanted the orc to attack her. She swallowed down the anxiety of the cold water below, and kept her feet stepping back.

Standing up in frustration, Azog looked at the Asha with a look she could not quite decipher. All she knew was that she did not like it. But her taunts seemed to work, for the orc had now set his eyes on the ranger. Taking a running start, he engaged her. An arrow suddenly embedded in Azog's left calf, causing him to grip as he set down his foot.

Would she have had the time, she would have protested the arrow. But she didn't. It was only a matter of seconds before the chain would disappear under the ice and take her with it if she would not let go. Quickly nearing the orc, she hit his head with the chain harshly, making sure he was disoriented before she bound it to his hand quickly.

Not even properly registering what was happening, the orc was dragged over the ice, trailing blood with him from his wounds as the chains forced him to disappear through the ice hole.

A heavy silence fell over the frozen lake as Raewyn panted harshly, staring at the sinkhole with a hint of self accomplishment. Sinking to her knees, she held her hands out in front of her, resting them against the ice as she tried to regain her breath. The wounds on her back had felt frozen, yet they burned with every tiny move she made. Her muscles had nearly atrophied under all the stress they had been under, making it nearly impossible for her to sit up straight anymore. From a short distance, she could hear Thorin clambering up to assess the situation.

"Is he gone?" She heard him ask. She didn't respond. She was exhausted. The adrenaline had begun to wear off permanently, and pain had seeped into her system too high for her to properly process.

Her eyes fell on the ice below her, squinting in suspicion as she saw something move. She was vaguely aware of Thorin nearing her and remarking something along the lines of the back of her tunic, but she tuned the noise out.

Her eyes widened upon a horrifying realisation. Her head shot up quickly, panicked eyes meeting the dwarf's confused ones.

"Get back!"

Pushing the dwarf aside while leaning her weight back, she watched as that familiar blade was pushed through the ice in the place Thorin and Raewyn had occupied mere moments ago. A hot searing pain rushed through the ranger's system as her back roughly collided with the frozen floor. She couldn't move. The feeling in her legs had disappeared all together and it took everything in her to move her arms away from the sword skewered through the ice.

As the blade was retracted, the orc surfaced from the same sinkhole he had disappeared in earlier. Thorin raced towards Raewyn's side, trying to help her get up, but when he figured her legs were rendered useless, he gently retreated his hands.

From their distance, the two brothers couldn't properly see what had happened, so as they saw their friend laying on the ground with their uncle beside her, a newfound panic seeped through their systems.

"Raewyn!" Fili shouted over the fields, daring to risk an anxious glance to his brother. As his eyes fell on him, he noticed Kili had already dropped the bow, his quiver with arrows also discarded on the floor. In his hand was now the sword that had hung on his back, his face set in shock and anger.

Before the blonde could say anything on the matter, Kili's feet already carried him to the other side of the lake, avoiding the ice holes littering the floor. With a leap, he threw his body on Azog's back, successfully steering him away from his kin. The orc tried to reach for the dwarf blindly, but Kili refused to let go, making sure the bladed arm could not harm him.

"Kili!" His uncle shouted after him, running after the orc.

Despite his bleeding wound, Fili had found himself running towards the ranger, kneeling down beside her rather uncomfortably. A hiss escaped his mouth as the cold snow on the ice came in contact with his wound.

"We've got to get up." He announced as his hands reached her shoulders, trying to pull her up. Something near a whine escaped Raewyn's throat as one of his hands came to close to the wounds. Immediately, the dwarf pulled back, using his other hand to hold her upright.

Again, his hands reached under her armpits, pulling her entire weight up until he was standing. In her exhaustion, Raewyn's head lulled forward, quickly stopped by one of Fili's hands, his other gently brushing her lower back to hold her against him.

"Mahal, you're burning up." He muttered under his breath, pushing her head back before his hand returned to hold her weight. She seemed unresponsive to his words, instead leaning her head against his shoulder as she struggled to keep her legs straight.

"Raewyn, can you even hear me?" Fili tried again.

A moment of silence passed as panic slowly began to build in the pit of Fili's stomach. That was when a low hum was heard. Sighing louder than he maybe should have done, he closed his eyes in relief. She was still conscious.

"We've got to get out of there." He voiced aloud, making sure his friend was aware of what they were doing. Nearly carrying her with him, Fili slowly made his way over the lake, away from the fight.

"Kili," Raewyn mumbled, the notion barely audible, but Fili picked it up. An unnerving feeling settled in his throat, as he tried to push the lie out. She would never go with him if he told her he was fighting Azog. But for her own sake, she needed to get away from the battlefield. And so, he swallowed the lump down, not stopping his movements.

"He's getting Balin."

That seemed to work, for she remained silent after that, doing her best to keep her legs moving. Fili was now carrying both their weights,moving over to the rocks at the side of the lake, opting to keep Raewyn there whilst he returned to battle.

Gently, he lowered the Asha on one of the rocks, making sure she did not fall off. In the distance, he could see Azog swinging a dwarf wildly, and for once, Fili wasn't able to tell if it was his uncle or his brother.

"Don't move." He commanded softly, holding his hands down to keep Raewyn there. "I'm gonna search the area."

He knew better than to use her barely conscious state to his advantage, but he also knew the ranger a little better than she might have liked. 'She would have done the same' were the words echoing through Fili's brain as he threw her one last glance. Then, he took off running to aid his kin take down the terrible orc.

Raewyn was faintly aware of the battle still lingering around her, but for a short second, she had whole heartedly believed Fili's words. If anything, she had, until she suddenly heard a new voice.

"Raewyn?"

Slowly, her head spun to the source of the noise, her vision spinning with it as a light feeling entered her head. Bilbo had appeared in front of her, seemingly woozy himself too, but he looked better than she did at the moment.

The hobbit climbed on the rock in front of her, his features morphing into one of concern as he observed her bruised and bloodied face.

"What happened to you?" He couldn't help but wonder, grabbing the end of his sleeve with one hand, extending it slightly, before wiping off the dried blood above her brow. Raewyn didn't object the gesture.

"Where is Fili?" She finally asked, her voice soft, almost whispered.

Momentarily, Bilbo's scrubbing halted, looking at her with confused eyes: "Fighting Azog?"

"And Kili?" She continued, her voice now more urgent. And that is when the hobbit realised what had happened. He saw the blonde running from her, but he wasn't clever enough to puzzle the pieces together. There was only one way Fili could make her stay here; lying.

"Where is he, Bilbo?" Raewyn repeated, more sternly this time, giving him a pointed look, for how far she could.

Almost toppling over or not, Bilbo knew better than to pick a fight with her. Simply because Fili dared to lie to her didn't mean he had the nerve to. And thus, he retreated his hand, giving her a sincere look.

"Fighting Azog."

Another moment of silence as Raewyn pursed her lips, closing her eyes. Without being aware of it, her head lulled forward again. This time it was Bilbo that stopped the movement, catching her forehead with one of his hands.

"Foolish hay-heared dwarf." She cursed silently, regaining her balance as she sat upright. Pushing herself off of the rock, she uttered a grunt of pain as her feet came in contact with the floor below. Swaying slightly, her hands reached towards the boulders in front of her, keeping herself steady.

"Are... Are you sure you should be fighting?" Bilbo tried, hopping off of his rock as well, studying his friend with an uneasy look.

"No." Raewyn merely stated, digging in her pockets before fishing out a tiny whistle. She handed it to Bilbo, pushing down the nauseating feeling in her stomach. "Just in case."

Accepting the whistle, he looked at it in confusion, studying the markings on the side. "In case of what?"

As his head rose, he found his friend stumbling over the ice, away from him. For someone who was close to passing out two seconds ago, she sure was stubborn.

"In case of what, Raewyn?!" He called after her, clutching the whistle tightly.

Everything in her body was screaming for her to drop to the floor and take a long and good nap. Her back refused to let her move easily, her legs were protesting with every clumsy step she took, her head was yelling at her to stand still and process her surroundings carefully. But she ignored all the pleas. No weapon in hand, no fully conscious mind, no ranger-like athletics; only a woman carrying herself to the source of danger with nothing but anger in her head.

The closer she came, the louder the scream became. She could hear the blade impact upon blade. She could hear the roars of Azog. She could see the wounds on all three Durin son's faces. These weren't there when she sunk the orc.

She wouldn't announce herself now. Azog had yet to see her. Thorin was busy facing his foe and Kili's face held nothing but anger. She figured they would look very much alike in that moment. Fili, on the other hand, had seen the woman almost crawling over the ice. A remorseful look crossed his features, but she didn't give him a second look.

Kili's knees were buckling underneath him, the extend of his injuries probably worse than what she could see on his face. Thorin looked close to collapsing and Fili was struggling to wield his sword any longer.

Casting her eyes over the lake in a dizzy manner, she spotted Kili's discarded weapons. She couldn't aim to save her life at the moment, but the arrows were sharp nonetheless. And thus, she took a handful of arrows with her, clutching them tightly as she pointed all sharp ends outside.

The closer she came, the more the three others finally noted her presence. All of them were clever enough not to mention her name. Azog's back was still turned towards her, so she could take her time. Yet, she noted the cracks in the ice where Azog had walked. Again; those hadn't been there when she was.

Thorin struck again, his blade knocking Azog back a few steps, huffing loudly in exhaustion. Fili followed his uncle, striking the orc against his stomach as it tried to hold its balance. Angrily, Azog reached out, his blade knocking against Fili's. Surprised at the sudden strength, his sword fell to the floor, his body being thrown feet away.

Shouts of his name echoed over the lake as Raewyn stood there, almost falling over at the sudden overwhelming emotions. She was going to fall; she could feel it. Stubbornly, she took another step. And that's when her legs gave out again. Where once was pain and fatigue, there was now nothing. No feeling in her legs. Her breath stuttered upon the realisation.

The sound her knees had made bounced off of the ice, alerting Azog. Turning around maliciously, the orc smiled darkly, trailing his blade over the floor. Knowing she had now been spotted, Kili shouted her name, his voice scratching as he watched his opponent walk away. Towards her.

"Azog!" Thorin tried to call, but to no avail. His path had been set.

That is when a shrill whistle filled the air, causing all four on the ice to halt for a moment. For just a few seconds there was nothing. And then, a figure appeared from the clouds. She wasn't gigantic nor intimidating, but Raewyn's dared to utter a sigh of relief as she watched Farris respond to Bilbo's tone.

The owl descended at a rapid speed, her claws extended. Azog had no time to respond before the owl latched onto his face, clawing away bit by bit, giving Raewyn time to use her arms in an effort to crawl back.

Wielding his nearly demolished, but still standing arm, he reached out for the owl, trying to skewer it with the blade. Flying off at the sight, Farris circled the group, not leaving, but keeping her distance. Azog roared at the owl, his attention momentarily distracted.

Raewyn used this time to stab the ice next to her with the arrowheads. Cracks already formed and though she couldn't attack as she wished, she could trap the orc again. With the extend of his injuries now, he wouldn't be able to survive another ice bath. Slowly tracing a line, she found the floor cracking with each move she made. Swallowing harshly, she continued her work, head swimming as her back made it harder and her to move her arm.

Loud footsteps were heard and the ranger could see little specks of ice moving at the noise. He was nearing her again. Thorin and Kili would never be there in time. She didn't stop her movements, regardless of how much her body told her to rest. Tiny indents were made everywhere as she continued to crawl over the floor.

And then a long blade landed point down directly in front of her. That was when she halted. Looking up, she saw Azog looming over her, a menacing grin on his floor as if he was expecting for her to plead for her life. Instead, she smirked back, slamming the arrows down harder than she had done before, screaming in agony as pain rippled from her back through her arm, urging her to let go of the arrows sooner than she would have liked.

Yet, her excellent thinking and experience with ice seemed to work: the impact caused ice to ripple through the indents she had made, until it toppled completely. Azog weight pushed the floor away under them, a sweeping freezing feeling washing over both of them.

The ice cold water of the lake moved underneath her tunic, soaking her bloodied wounds, the salt stinging the nerves and causing her arms to spasm as she tried to process the pain. Trying to claw her way out of the cold lake water, she regained control of her body. Her hands tried to reached towards the surface, breaking water. Instead, they reached the other side of the ice on the floor. Blind panic settled in as Raewyn tried to swim up, hitting her hands against the ice desperately, trying to punch her way out, or find where she had broken the surface on the other side.

Through the mirky water, she could see a figure appearing directly above her, pounding on the ice as well. A brief moment of hope swam through her mind as she continued to pound, hoping to punch her way out. Then, a hand grasped her ankle, pulling her further down. She tried to scream, but found nothing but oxygen bubbles escaping her mouth, wasting her breath. She tried to pull herself back up, lacking air at a rapid pace. Some way to come back to the cold winter air, or some escape from the monster below her, but her body wouldn't let her.

It was done fighting.

Slowly, her hands stopped clawing, her body rapidly focused on her breathing. Looking for some way to protect herself, her body seemed to forget where she had found herself and she inhaled deeply. Water flew freely through her throat, making its way into her lungs. She felt herself chocking on it, incapable to get any air whatsoever.

She had always imagined dying to be peaceful, feeling nothing. To lay there, void of pain and worries fading from her mind at the thought of no longer having to deal with them. This was not peaceful. The nerves in her back felt as if they were burning, there was no feeling left in her legs and her arm muscles had tightened incredibly, a heavy feeling filling them each time she tried to move them. Her head was light, her stomach was filled with bile and her lungs were filled with water. There was no breath, no rest, no peace.

And then everything faded to black.

——

Taglist: @errruvande @writingawaymylife @justnerdystuffs @spidergirla5 @fallenangeloflight @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell @lxdymormont @deathofafangirl01 @the-cranck-hobbit @chaoticpaintsplatter @zaddyluvr @bxtchopolis @derangedcupcake @radbarbariancupcake @gay-destiel

[ao3feed-thehobbit]

Moon Stone

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/DbFMEIf

by Helloitssogoodtomeetyou

Gandalf’s apprentice, Dewin, hates dwarfs and long journeys. So naturally that’s what he gets when Gandalf has him accompany the thirteen dwarfs and their burglar.

Or my gay ass just wanted a male x thorin fic so I made it myself

Words: 1281, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M, Other

Characters: Original Male Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield, Legolas Greenleaf, Thranduil (Tolkien), Gandalf | Mithrandir, Bilbo Baggins, Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Elrond Peredhel, Ori (Tolkien), Nori (Tolkien), Dori (Tolkien), Dwalin (Tolkien), Balin (Tolkien), Kíli (Tolkien), Fíli (Tolkien), Bombur (Tolkien), Beorn (Tolkien), Azog (Tolkien), Glóin (Tolkien), Bard the Bowman, Radagast | Aiwendil, Óin (Tolkien), Bifur (Tolkien), Bofur (Tolkien)

Relationships: Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Legolas Greenleaf/Tauriel, Legolas Greenleaf & Tauriel, Bilbo Baggins & Thorin Oakenshield, Thorin Oakenshield/Reader, Thorin Oakenshield/Original Male Character(s), Gandalf | Mithrandir & Original Character(s)

Additional Tags: Adventure, Fantasy, Original Characters - Freeform, Help, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Pre-Battle of Five Armies, irregular updates

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/DbFMEIf

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Even Autumn Can't Compare

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/0pa2BFD

by Mossy Oak Tree (A_Mossy_Oak_Tree)

A gay one shot about Legolas and an OC because I'm terrible at x readers. But I have only ever found like 2-3 gay/queer shots (not even stories) for any of the The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings characters.

Our favorite dwarven bloodline is still alive because the boys dying destroyed me. Fuck yourself Azog (Azog is my worst hear me out character-).

Honestly this will probably be all over the place because I am, so let's just ride the roller coaster together shall we?

Words: 2394, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Legolas Greenleaf, Thranduil (Tolkien), Bilbo Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien), Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Fíli (Tolkien)

Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Male Character(s), Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)

Additional Tags: Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, Fíli and Kíli Are Little Shits, Tauriel and Kili are Bi bc I says so, Legolas doesn't know how to emotion, Thranduil gave Legolas daddy issues, Bilbo and Thorin are the best enemies to lovers trope, They're In Love Your Honor, Autistic Character bc I'm autistic and projecting

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/0pa2BFD

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Fluffuary 2023 Day 9: Sunset- Thranduil x OC

Thranduil x Aster

Description: After the Battle of Five Armies Aster attempts to search for her husband, ultimately finding him on Ravenhill as the sun begins to set.

Word Count: 1.3k

Challenge made by the lovely @darthglitterfanfiction

A deathly sort of silence was all that remained on the forefront of Erebor and in Dale after the Battle of the Five Armies. It was just eerily quiet as everyone attempted to gather their bearings and look for their friends and comrades. 

Or perhaps Aster’s ears were just ringing too loud to actually hear much. Her heart pounded as she raced through the streets, eyes eagerly searching for her dear husband. She hadn’t seen him since before he and Bard marched the gates of Erebor. Then, of course the other two armies showed up and chaos ensued. Aster wouldn’t have been able to find her love if she tried during the battle - and she did try. 

As soon as she realized the battle was over she spent hours going between Dale and the forefront of Erebor in search of him. She was happy to see that quite a few of her soldiers were still alive, and she took several minutes to mourn the still large number of soldiers that died in battle. Eventually she found one of their generals, Feren. There, she instructed him to get the wounded on horses to get back to the kingdom as quickly as possible and find all their dead so they could receive proper burials. Once he walked away she continued her search, ultimately ending up back in Dale again. 

“Queen Aster,” she heard Bard call, making her turn around. He stood beside a large stone pillar with his children surrounding him, all with smiles on their faces. 

“Bard,” she greeted breathlessly (albeit hurriedly). “It is a relief beyond belief to see you and your children alive.” 

“The same could be said for you. Thranduil was searching for you and his son earlier-“ 

“Wait, Thranduil,” Aster accidentally interrupted urgently, her mind going into overdrive at the mention of her love’s name. “Do you know where he is?”

“I believe I saw him riding towards Ravenhill, Your Majesty,” he said, pointing out the location for her. “I have not seen him since.” After he finished speaking Aster followed his finger until she saw Azog’s wooden signaling machine, now abandoned and quite a few pieces of the tower broken. Her brows furrowed in worry and confusion. What in the world would draw him up there? Almost as if sensing what she was thinking, the Man continued.  

“He heard word that the Prince had gone up there with Tauriel after Thorin and his kin for reasons I do not know,” he explained. “I believe that would be your best bet.” The Elf knew that it would only be the next logical place to go, so she nodded and faced him again. 

“Thank you, Bard,” she muttered before letting out a high whistle. It only took a few moments before her elk Arelel rode up to her. She wasted no time in mounting him and grabbing the reins. 

“Norrindë, Arelel (Ride swift, Arelel),” she muttered before riding off 

“Good luck,” Bard called just before she rode off, to which she waved in response as she was too far to call back. She rode through the soldiers mourning their friends and comrades, trying not to let her thoughts linger too long. She desperately tried not to think of her husband in that same state as she dug her heels into her elk’s sides to get him to continue on. She had no idea what she would do if she saw him in such a state. 

She rode as quickly as Arelel would run, yet it still felt like an eternity before she finally reached the top of Ravenhill. The sky was beginning to turn orange as the sun began its descent beyond the horizon just as she reached her destination. She barely waited for her elk to stop on the other side of the frozen river right across from the tower before she hopped off, sprinting through the first doorway she saw. After searching through every corridor she came across she finally spotted two familiar heads of blonde hair, making her stop mid step. It was Thranduil and Legolas. A relieved smile appeared on her face, but just as she prepared to walk over to him she stopped when Legolas spoke. 

“I...cannot go back,” he said softly, which made her brows furrow in concern. 

She turned, then saw the reason for his sorrow. Tauriel sat beside the brunette Dwarf’s (she unfortunately never had the chance to learn his name) dead body, looking as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest. Aster’s heart went out to her. After learning that the redhead had left to follow the Dwarves she knew that it was more than just to find their prisoners. There were more powerful feelings at play, and it broke the Queen’s heart to know that Tauriel would not get the luxury of having a life with the one she loved. 

“Where will you go?” Thranduil questioned in the same gentle tone, making her turn back to him once again. 

“I do not know.”

“Go north, find the Dúnedain,” his father instructed. “There’s a young Ranger amongst them- you should meet him. His father, Arathorn, was a good man. His son might grow to be a great one.”

“What is his name?” The Prince inquired, intrigued. 

“He’s known in the wild as Strider. His true name you must discover for yourself.” The two nodded at each other then Legolas turned to walk away, but paused when his father called after him. 

“Legolas, your mother loved you,” he said softly, which made the Prince turn to face him yet again. “More than anyone...more than life.” For a moment the duo stared at each other thoughtfully, then made a gesture of farewell before Legolas continued on out of the corridor they stood in. Aster quickly stepped back so as to not be in his way, then before he got too far from her she called to him as well. 

“Your father loves you too,” she informed him. He paused for a moment, then looked at her with a weak smile. 

“I know,” he whispered, lifting a hand to press against her cheek with an affectionate and gentle touch. She smiled weakly and rested her hand against his. 

“Please, stay safe,” she whispered. “For me.” 

“Of course,” he nodded before dropping his hand and finally walking away. Once he was no longer in view, Aster looked at Thranduil. She watched relief flood his eyes as he stared at her. She understood the feeling. 

They were walking towards each other before she could even process it. Once they were within arm’s length he swooped her up into one of the tightest hugs he’d ever given her. It took all Aster had not to cry at the familiar embrace as she clung to him. Her relief about finding him unharmed was impalpable. 

“Meleth nin (my love),” Thranduil whispered, pulling back with a small smile. His smile quickly dropped when he looked her over and was replaced with concern. 

“You’re hurt,” he muttered worriedly, gesturing to a large slice in the sleeve of her tunic. She’d gotten it during a rather nasty fight with an extremely headstrong Orc who didn’t know how to stay down. Thankfully she’d just barely been able to dodge its attack before finally taking it down once and for all. 

“It is shallow,” she reassured him with a small smile. “It bled only a little and is already on the mend.” After taking a moment to make sure she was telling the truth he pulled her into another hug. As she rested her head against his chest she looked through the doorways leading outside, watching as the sun continued to set, almost halfway gone by that point. Thranduil noticed her line of sight and turned the both of them so they could watch it set. 

Despite all that had occurred that day, they found themselves in a state of peace as they watched the sky change colors. The setting sun meant that they were one day further from this horrible day. They continued to hold each other in silence, relieved to be with each other once again. And they knew that things would be okay.

[anaveragebibliophile]

All is Well (Part 2)

Thranduil x Young!Legolas x OC 

Summary: We return to a meeting between Thranduil’s wife and Bilbo Baggins, specifically regarding a position that he has accepted on behalf of Gandalf the Grey and the queen herself. However, problems arise with the prince’s health, leading to a very chaotic conference with the king and queen highlighting their exceptional parenting capabilities. 

“My Queen, Master Baggins has accepted the position that you’ve so graciously offered to him,” Gandalf began, watching (y/n) rock the young prince in the ivory rocking chair adjacent to the bassinet that was kept in her and her husband’s chambers. 

Unlike most royals within the Woodland Realm, the king and queen prided themselves upon being readily available to their son at the drop of a hat. Rather than rely on maids and wet nurses to raise their elfling, they viewed the responsibility as a privilege that had been bestowed upon them to indulge in and appreciate to the utmost degree. As such, they were only ever seen without their sweet leaf on the rarest of occasions. As can be noted, this was indeed not one of those times. 

The queen couldn’t seem to hide both her surprise and pleasure from the wizard upon hearing this news. “I am quite happy to hear this, Gandalf. Unfortunately, as circumstances would have it, this expedition to Gundaband is just not something I can commit to at this time.” 

The “circumstances” that she was referring to could easily be deduced upon looking at her son.  Legolas, the 1-year-old son of Queen (y/n) and King Thranduil, had fallen ill only a few days ago. While his parents (his mother really) initially presumed this to be only a minor ailment that would dissipate in time, his fever had only worsened over the last few hours. And as a result of his extreme discomfort, he only desired to be held by his mother or father, the latter sadly battling the same illness in the bed adjacent to his wife and child. 

“Fret not, My Queen. You will not be disappointed with the hobbit that I’ve recommended to facilitate this mission.” 

“He’s right, darling,” Thranduil interjected. “Master Baggins is quite the experienced investigator. Furtive, prudent and intelligent.” 

At that response, (y/n) quickly diverted her attention from Gandalf to her husband, shocked to find him awake. He’d been sleeping most of the day, the excessive fatigue hitting him like a bag of rocks would. Painfully. 

“How are you feeling?” (y/n) queried, trying to settle Legolas down from her sudden movement. 

“I’m alright. Still quite fatigued and sore but I have to believe I’m on the mend,” he responded, coughing into his elbow. “How’s our little leaf holding up?” 

Gandalf took this time to analyze the dynamic between husband and wife. Slowly, oh so slowly, (y/n) stood up from the rocking chair, cooing at Legolas as he began to whimper. Sitting on her edge of bed and turning her body to face Thranduil, she watched as her husband prepped himself to take the precious cargo that laid before him. As she passed Legolas off into her husband’s waiting arms, everyone could hear the exhalation of relief from both father and son. It wasn’t long until (y/n) sidled up next to her husband, both of them attempting to coax their little one back to sleep with soothing words and gentle touches. 

It appeared that the rumors still stood true from where Gandalf stood. 

The king and queen were exceptional parents.  

“He’s been sporting a pretty nasty fever for the past few hours,” the queen continued. “The healer has come to see him twice to administer a few medicines that she believes will help. However, due to the ferocity of the illness, it will take more time for the remedies to take effect.” 

The king only nodded, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, my friends, but—” 

(Y/n) raised a hand. “No, it is me who should apologize. I am being very discourteous. Please, Gandalf, continue.” 

“(Y/n), please. There is no need for that. The only other matter I wished to discuss had to do with meeting the hobbit in the flesh. Would that be something you would be interested in?”

At that question, Legolas’ lip began to quiver. Obviously, he knew what that meeting would entail. The separation of him and his mother. 

“My little leaf, everything is alright,” (y/n) began, reaching past Thran’s arm to smooth her son’s golden hair back from his little head. “Maman isn’t going anywhere.” 

The king took that time to pass his son over to his wife, fully aware of the fact that the elfling needed to be reassured that his mother was nearby. And would remain nearby for the foreseeable future. 

“Perhaps we could consider a meeting within our chambers? I understand that it might be uncomfortable for Master Baggins, but I’m afraid I’m a bit incapable of departing from this spot.”

“Not to worry, Your Majesties. I think an explanation will assuage any fears or reservations regarding this particular situation.” 

“Very well then, Gandalf,” the queen replied. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“Are you absolutely positive that I won’t be intruding?” Bilbo asked, completely uncertain about entering the sacred chambers of two esteemed leaders of the realm. In his mind, if he made one false move, then—

Honestly, he didn’t even want to think about all of the ways those two could carry out his death.  

“What do you take me for? A novice? I’ll have you know that I’ve been friends with these two for centuries. Granted, it’s true that Queen (y/n) is much easier to get along with than the king, but it must also be made known that they are both genuinely kind people. Consider yourself lucky this time. His wife will be in close proximity and his poor elfling is fighting a nasty bug. He’s a bit softer today. Never mind the fact that it’s her reconnaissance detail and not his. He knows not to get involved in her affairs, especially ones of this caliber, unless it’s necessary.” 

As Gandalf kept pleading his case to Bilbo, he did notice the hobbit’s features begin to become a bit more consoled the more he talked. Hopefully this meant that he would be able to mediate between the two parties and allow this conference to commence. 

“If you’re sure—-”

“I am. You have to trust me. Have I ever led you astray before?” 

“No, you haven’t. So I guess that means I have no choice but to say yes.” 

At that comment, a small smile appeared on the wizard’s face. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the wizard and burglar entered the rooms that the king and queen shared, they were greeted to the sight of King Thranduil blowing raspberries on his son’s bare tummy, causing a surplus of delighted giggles to erupt from the little elfling and even his wife. 

After Gandalf left to retrieve Master Baggins, Legolas started to get a bit restless. In other words, he was miserable. He was still running a fever and was even starting to sound congested. Rocking him, singing to him, and even reading to him were not captivating his interest nor calming him down.

It wasn’t until (y/n) recommended removing his onesie that Legolas seemed more at ease. Allowing him to cool off was definitely a mood improver. What made that idea even more successful was her husband planting kisses on their son’s belly. Legolas thought it was the most comical thing ever. The more messy the sound, the funnier it was. 

Queen (Y/n) was the first one to notice that they had visitors. 

“Well, hello to you Master Baggins.” 

“Your Majesty,” Bilbo bowed. 

“My sincerest apologies for requesting your presence in such an intimate setting. Unfortunately, we are dealing with a sick elfling right now. As you can understand, his well-being is our utmost priority. My hope is that we’re not making this too uncomfortable for you.” 

“No, not at all.” 

Giving his son one more kiss to his belly, the king looked up and nodded to his visitor. “Hello, Master Baggins. A pleasure to see you again.” 

‘Wow,’ Bilbo thought as he watched King Thranduil wipe his son’s nose while simultaneously give him a lingering kiss on the forehead, ‘he is definitely not what most people presume him to be.’ 

Watching her husband and son, the queen said, “I was very pleased to hear that you accepted my offer to stand in as the mission leader for the expedition to Gundabad. As you know, Gandalf is a dear friend of mine, so you can imagine that I’ve heard a lot about you over the years. I was very impressed with the experience you’ve acquired. And in such a short time too. I think you’ll fit in well here.” 

“That’s very kind, Queen (y/n).”

“Oh please, call me (y/n).” 

“Of course. So, I know that Gandalf mentioned that you wanted to speak to me about a few things.”

Before the queen could respond, Legolas crawled out of her husband’s lap and made his way over to hers. Smiling brightly, she picked him up and embraced him. 

“And just what are you up to, my sweet boy?” (y/n) questioned, rubbing the backs of her fingers down his cheeks. “You feel cooler, which is a good sign. The medicines must be working.” 

The prince just took that opportunity to cuddle into his mother’s neck. 

While his wife was consoling their son, King Thranduil decided to step in. In this case, he knew (y/n) wouldn’t mind. “Like my wife mentioned earlier, Legolas is our priority at the moment. You’ll have to forgive her for appearing a bit distracted, but that is the life of a parent in difficult times. We tag team the best we can, but he has been circulating between the two of us with remarkable frequency.”

“It’s no trouble, King Thranduil. I understand. If it’s more convenient for you two, we could schedule this meeting at a later date.”

“Since your departure is in a week’s time, I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the queen added while rubbing the elfling’s back gently. “There are only three things that are truly of the utmost importance. But given the circumstances that have arisen on my end, I will be brief.”

Bilbo could only nod his head. 

“Our first matter of business has to do with the members you would like to include. Of course, the elven guard will be at your disposal, but I’m also allowing you to pick 5 other individuals. In fact, I recommend it. People that would be willing to follow you and protect you if harm comes your way. People who have fighting experience. Who you choose is completely up to you.” 

Bilbo thought on this while the mother surreptitiously passed her son off to her husband. It was obvious he was eager to have his child back in his arms. But one would be a fool not to want that little elfling around. He was extremely adorable with sky blue eyes and massive dimples that ate up his cheeks. His calm, charming demeanor was just the icing on the cake in the hobbit’s mind.  

“So the dwarves would be an option then, yes?” 

The queen merely nodded her head.

“Right then, with that settled, let’s move on to the second matter. In good conscience I cannot send you without some formal training. Although you can fight, as I have been told, you have never been in quarters quite like this. I have asked Gandalf as well as a few other trusted advisors to prepare you for a potential onslaught. How to strategize, how to attack, methodologies of that nature. They will be the ones that will alert me of your progress. But please know that if they’re not satisfied with what they see, the mission will be delayed until you’re ready. Your safety, and the safety of my guard, is of the utmost priority.” 

When (y/n) didn’t receive any inquiries regarding her expectations, she then proceeded to the third and final matter. 

Glancing over at her son curled into her husband’s chest, she began. “The last issue I would like to discuss primarily deals with the capture of an Orc named Bröcen. As of right now, he appears to be one of the leaders of a sub-group of Orcs that permanently resides in Gundabad. We have reason to believe that he is orchestrating the creation of an army at the request of his overlord Azog; a request that would certainly destroy a significant portion of Middle Earth’s population if it came to fruition. As such, the main goal of this mission is to bring him back here, alive. Without him, we will never be privy to the Overlord’s plans. Essentially, we will never be able to stop him.” 

And just like that, a sudden, tiny sneeze interrupted any potential response from Bilbo. 

Queen (Y/n) and Bilbo himself immediately turned their heads to look down at the little elfling. He sniffled, raising his arms out to stretch in his father’s embrace. After receiving yet another kiss from Thran, Legolas then cuddled back into his chest, paying no mind to the dangers that were being talked about right in front of him. 

“Nai eru tye mánata (God bless you),” (y/n) and Thranduil whispered at the same time. 

Once the queen was certain that her child was fast asleep, she faced the hobbit again. “Again, I can only apologize Bilbo. I’m quite distracted today. My hope is that everything was clear and comprehensive. If you do have more questions, I’ll be happy to answer them in due time.” 

“Of course, My Queen. Please don’t feel any rush right now. You explained everything in a concise manner that I was able to comprehend,” Bilbo qualified. “I’m sure I’ll have more questions, but for now you deserve to focus on your family.” 

(Y/n) smiled brightly. “Thank you for being so accommodating Master Baggins. We’ll be in touch, I’m sure.” 

With that, Bilbo bowed and moved himself towards the door. Yet, as his hand lightly grasped the doorknob, the soft babbling of Legolas made him turn back to see what all the commotion was about. 

Queen (Y/n) was standing, hugging Gandalf tightly while her husband appeared to be walking into their bathroom to run a bath for the baby. He knew that because Legolas was once again curled against his chest as he made his way to a large oval tub that had a baby bath seat sitting on its edge. 

As Thran turned the faucet, his low timbre began to hum a tune to his son who was lazing in his arms, yawning every so often. There wasn’t a doubt in Biblo’s mind that Legolas adored his father. He gazed up at him, entranced by every movement he made and every act of affection he gave. At least it was nice to know that the king’s harshness didn’t actually extend to his immediate family. Rumors be damned. 

Bilbo was soon brought out of his trance by his fellow comrade. 

“You know the rules, (y/n). If that little guy isn’t feeling better in two day’s time, send for me. I’ll bring Athelas as soon as I can.” 

“Of course, Gandalf. See you soon. And you too, Bilbo,” the queen said, waving. 

“Likewise,” was the response she received from both of them.

[braungirl]

First posted in 2013 but removed because I really didn’t think it was a good fanfic. But I’m finally finishing it and it is just two chapters away from completion!

Wandering dusky Mirkwood is a quiet creature who catches the eye of Prince Legolas. And peering from his lofty gaze, King Thranduil, also cannot seem to escape a swirling pair of green eyes that mysteriously appears in the Elvenking's Halls. The creature is bewitching, Tauriel observes her only ambition succumb to its power. The only way to stop the creature is The Truth.

Thranduil x OC

Legolas x OC

Azog x OC

OC x OC

TW: Rape, violence, sexual assault.

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Fics to be posted from the 27th to the 31st of May (in no particular order).

Chapter 6 of "A Better Future" (Thranduil x AFAB reader)

Chapter 1 of "Iron Hall" (a multi-chapter fic featuring Eärwen as she takes up the role of handmaiden in the halls Makar and Meássë call home. Please do heed any and all warnings/tags mentioned in future chapters, as some of them will be quite dark.)

To Be Wed (A Russingon gets married one-shot)

Worthy Prize (A dark Azog/Tauriel one-shot)

Forsaken (A dark Thû/Lúthien one-shot)

[middleearthpixie]

After the Fire ~ Chapter Forty-Seven

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a grievously wounded Thorin is brought back to the kingdom of Erebor, which is still mostly in ruins. Although he’s survived the wounds he received at the end of Azog’s blade, his recovery is far from complete. Grief, regret, anger, all are making his journey that much more difficult and the physical recovery isn’t quite the most difficult challenge he faces.

Jasna Stoneham is no stranger to loss, as she is a survivor of Smaug’s wrath upon Esgaroth. When she is asked to help the dwarves healers of Erebor, her instinct is to say no, but she needs the job, and so agrees to it. However, no one told her that of all the patients, she would be responsible for the king himself, Thorin Oakenshield. 

Unfortunately, the road to recovery isn’t necessary a smooth one, but if there’s one thing Thorin will learn, it’s that Jasna is just as stubborn as he is and for every step back he takes, she is there to push him three steps forward. And Jasna will soon find out that there is a gentle, softer side to the dwarf king, one that very few people have ever seen and one he fights to keep hidden from her as well. But like his recovery, that is also easier said than done. 

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Jasna Stoneham

Characters: Jasna, Thorin, Thranduíl, Dwalin, Glynne, Tauriel, Rainisa, Keenor

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.3k

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @buckybarnes-thorin

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

Previous chapters can be found here. 

In many ways, Mirkwood reminded Jasna of Erebor, although she would never say as much to Thorin, knowing exactly how he’d take that. But to her, there were a few similarities. Where their chambers were, it was cool and damp, like Erebor. The thick canopy of leaves and vines and branches made seeing daylight impossible, just as it was in Erebor. 

And everyone in Mirkwood seemed to stare at her. Just as they did when she first arrived in Erebor. 

Jasna didn't notice it at first. Their first morning, she offered up a warm smile at every curious look, but by the end of that day, it seemed the stares just wouldn’t end. And she hated every moment of it.

Being around the wood elves was like being surrounded by the most perfect women in Middle Earth. Even the men were stunningly beautiful. Every where Jasna looked, she saw tall, lithe bodies and striking faces and she never felt shorter or dumpier than she did in Mirkwood. 

She kept those thoughts to herself, though, as she and Thorin strolled through the forest after supper on their second night. Thranduíl played tour guide and perhaps it was only her imagination, but he didn't seem to put out by it as he pointed out this enchanted river or that statue covered in lichen and barely visible. 

They’d been wandering for nearly an hour when a tall, slender he-elf with shimmering straight blond hair seemingly dropped from the trees. “Father, there you are.” His blue eyes slid in their direction. “I beg your pardon, Thorin, Queen Jasna, but I’ve an urgent matter that will not wait.”

Thranduíl sighed softly, turning to his son. “What is it, Legolas?”

“An orc pack has been spied off the Northeast Road.”

Jasna felt Thorin’s arm stiffen beneath hers as he said, “Orcs?”

Legolas nodded. “Gundabad orcs, no less.”

Jasna looked from Legolas, to Thranduíl, and then to Thorin, who looked visible pale at the news. “Gundabad?”

Thorin nodded slowly. “Azog’s kin, no doubt.”

Her stomach curdled and without thinking, she tightened her fingers on his arm. “Perhaps we should—”

“My lord,” a tall, slender she-elf with long red hair also dropped from the trees, “you are needed at the north gate at once.”

“Tauriel?” Thorin turned to her. 

She smiled. “You and the queen should return to your chambers, Your Majesty,” she told him as her smile faded. 

“Take Jasna back,” he told her, easing Jasna’s arm from his, “and make certain she remains there.”

“Wait,” Jasna shook her head, “Thorin, you are not going out there, are you?”

Thorin bobbed his head. “I am, indeed. I need to see for myself, if one has taken Azog’s place and with his quest in mind.”

“Thorin, you and your bride will remain here.” Thranduíl’s low voice brooked no argument. “You do not know this terrain nor do you know what you face. Allow my soldiers to—”

“I’m not asking for your permission,” Thorin cut him off, shaking his head, “nor do I need it.”

“Thorin,” Thranduíl lowered his voice and looked over at her before saying, “may I speak to you a moment?”

Thorin didn't look at all happy, but he stepped away from Jasna, who looked over at Tauriel, whom she hadn’t seen since her and Thorin’s wedding, and then only briefly. “What’s going on?”

Tauriel glanced at Thranduíl and Thorin. “I think they are searching for him.”

“For Thorin?” Jasna stared up at her, her belly kinking even more tightly now. “Are they the same orcs who—”

Tauriel nodded. “They are. We need to send to word to Erebor as well. Where is Dwalin?”

“He remained behind,” Jasna told her softly. “Said once through this forest was enough for him and went back to his chambers.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Thorin’s back and shoulders stiffen and she looked up at Tauriel once more. “What happens now?”

“We’ve sent a regiment out to meet them. But, Legolas felt Thranduíl should know as well.”

Jasna bit back a sigh and fought of a shudder at the same time. Her encounter with orcs in Esgaroth had been horrifying and she had no desire to see one, even from a distance, ever again. 

But even worse, the memory of the horrible wounds their now-deceased leader had inflicted upon Thorin made her belly churn with more force. The last thing she wanted was for him to go charging out with the elven warriors to face off against another orc. 

“Thorin, I will not allow you—”

Thorin cut Thranduíl off with a sharp, “Then it is well and good that I am not asking for your permission, and since I have no need for it—”

“You and your wife are my responsibility and I have no desire to explain to her or to your people how I let you fight on my behalf.” Thranduíl’s voice, usually calm and smooth, like oiled silk, rose slightly. “And I will not argue it, nor will I debate it. You will allow my people to handle this.”

Both Jasna and Tauriel stared at one another with eyebrows raised and Jasna held her breath as she waited for Thorin to erupt with indignation. 

But, to her surprise, a low sigh bubbled to his lips and he glanced over his shoulder at her and Tauriel. Then, turning back to Thranduíl, he said, “Of course.”

“Good.” Thranduíl’s hand came to rest briefly on Thorin’s shoulder. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon with your queen. I assure you, no orcs will get past our borders.” 

He looked up then. “Tauriel—” He lapsed into Sindarin and Jasna understood not a word he said, and as she glanced over at Thorin, she wondered if he did, for he glared at the woodland king.

But then, Tauriel nodded, excused herself, and started off down the path back toward the heart of the woodland palace at a brisk pace, easing her bow from her back. 

“And now,” Thranduíl turned to her, “I will leave the two of you to your own devices and I will see you both at supper.Try not to worry, as I’m certain we will run them off handily.”

Thorin shook his head. “If you need us—”

“I understand. For now, just enjoy your time together.” Thranduíl strode in the same direction Tauriel had gone, only to pause and glance at them over one shoulder. “I only recommend you do not go near the waters here.”

“I remember all too well,” Thorin called.

“Yes,” Thranduíl’s eyes flickered with hints of amusement. “I gather you do. I will see you both later.”

And with that, he was gone and Jasna turned to Thorin. “What happened, with the water here?”

He offered up a slight grin. “It’s enchanted, but mostly with black magic. The last time we passed through here, we… let’s just leave it at it slowed us down some and made us easier targets.”

“Targets?”

He nodded, easing an arm about her shoulders. “You’ve nothing to fear, mesmel. You are perfectly safe with me.”

“Well, I know that,” she told him leaning her head against him, “but I am curious about these enchanted waters.”

“Dark magic is found in them and I cannot say how that might affect you. I know it left us dwarves a bit out of sorts, and I imagine you’d not fare much better.”

She turned toward the narrow river that ran through the heart of Mirkwood, the brackish waters rushing melodically along the tree roots and over rocks studding its bed. The sound was peaceful, but the longer she listened, the more menacing the undertones grew and little by little, the urge to just keep walking down the path wound through her.

Tucking her arm through his, Jasna leaned her head against his shoulder and said, “We could go back to our chambers, you know. There we don't have to worry about magical water or orcs.”

A low rumble of laugher touched her ears. “I do like the way you think, mesmel.”

“I thought you might.”

The door closed softly behind them and Jasna’s eyes closed as Thorin came up behind her, eased an arm about her waist and with his free hand, swept her hair to send it spilling over her left shoulder. His lips came warm and soft upon the slope of her neck, sending a teasing chill rippling through her. The tip of his tongue swept gently against her, making her shiver as she whispered, “I do love how that feels…”

“Good,” came his husky murmur as he brushed his lips up toward her ear. The hand on her belly splayed, slid upward to curve about her left breast, where his finger tightened and his thumb slowly slipped about her nipple. 

Jasna caught her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes heavy lidded and sliding shut on their own as the sensations ran riot through her. Tension swirled through her, her heart beat faster with each slow, teasing kiss and each slow, teasing caress. Her head spun, gently at first, but as Thorin’s hand slid down over her belly, along her right inner thigh, it spun faster, more wildly.

His fingers curled into her skirt, slowly tugged it up. The warm air stirred as the fabric swept upward and she held her breath as his fingers crept higher, brushed flesh that was so very sensitive, slid into the dampness of her arousal. 

He moaned softly into her hair as she rocked back against him, her backside pressing into him, the firm ridge of his growing erection nestled against her.

She reached for him, curved her hand against that bulge, smiling as he exhaled heavily against her, whispering, “Mesmel…” as he slid a finger inside her. 

She sucked in a sharp breath at the teasing stroke, her hips moving with him. Her body tightened about him, her hand tightened about him briefly, then her fingers moved nimbly to open the fastenings of his trousers. The sinews in her wrist burned from the odd angle, but she ignored it as she angled her hand into those trousers, and slid down to find him. Her fingers closed about him, and she smiled as he shivered against her and whispered, “Maralmizi…”

“I love you, too,” she managed to whisper back. 

She tried to shift then, to spin toward him, but he wouldn’t let her. Instead, he whispered, “Stay just like this, amrâlimê.”

She bit down on her bottom lip once more as he eased his finger from her and caught her skirt to lift it higher still. Then, he caught her wrist to withdraw her hand, tugged his trousers out of his way and then—

“Oh…” She couldn't hold back her heavy sigh as he entered her slowly and thrust slowly. Gently. Fire ribboned through her with that one thrust, her eyes closed, her body hummed. 

His fingers curved about her hips, his voice a low growl as he murmured, “Jasna…”

He moved slowly, his fingers tightening against her, holding her completely still even as she tried to move, tried to rock back into him. “Hold still, mesmel…”

“Thorin…” 

He bent to sweep a hot kiss along the curve of her neck, up toward her ear. As he did, he slid one hand back between her thighs, into her heat, and teased her mercilessly. Her blood boiled its way through her veins, the tingles grew hotter and sharper, swirling through her, wrapping around her, and as he brought her to the edge, he gave a hard thrust, and as she shattered around him, he arched hard, crushed her against him, and gave himself up to the moment with a breathless, “Jasna!”

“Thorin!” Her voice echoed about their chambers, her fingernails digging into the door’s rough, parklike surface, her body tensing and pulsing about his. Her head spun so wildly, left her so breathless that, if it wasn't for his arm about her, Jasna would have crumped to her knees at the spiky hot pleasure rushing through her.

He slowed against her, wrapped his arms about her, and whispered, “Amrâlimê,” before nuzzling her. 

Her eyes closed of their own, her forehead came to rest against the door, and she whispered, “Don’t let go of me, dwarf. I’ll hit the floor for certain.”

“Worry not,” he assured her, a hint of laugher in his voice, “for I am not letting go. Not ever.”

He shifted to slip from her and as her skirt slid back into place, she smiled at him over one shoulder. “When I suggested we come back here, I thought we might at least make it to the bed.”

“I couldn't help myself,” he said with a shrug and a grin. “Have you any idea how irresistible you truly are, Queen Jasna?”

She shook her head as he tugged his trousers back into place and re-fastened them. “Tell me.”

He winked. “Firstly—”

“Thorin!” Dwalin pounded on the door. “Is Her Highness with you?”

“Where else would she be?”

“Thranduíl has requested her presence in the Mirkwood infirmary.”

Jasna looked up at first Thorin, then the door. “What?”

“Aye, the battle… it seems the orc pack was far bigger than they’d expected. Bigger and angrier.”

“She is not—”

Jasna tugged open the door. “Yes, she is, Thorin.”

“Jasna, wait, you—”

“Thorin, I’ll be in no danger in the infirmary, just as I wasn't in Erebor’s.”

Thorin sighed. “Are we needed, Dwalin?”

“Thranduíl has not asked, and I doubt he will, but—”

Thorin moved to the far side of the room, where the Orcrist stood propped against the wall. As he slipped it from the sheath, Jasna stated at the brilliant blue glow engulfing the blade. “Thorin, you are not going out there.”

“If they’ve come in search of me,” he replied grimly, brushing by her to join Dwalin in the doorway, “they will find me, for I am not going to live that way again. I’ll not spend the rest of my days looking over my shoulder. As with the Defiler, this will end here and now.”

He looked over at Dwalin. “You stay with Jasna.”

“Thorin, wait—”

She and Dwalin said it in unison, only to have Thorin ignore them both as he shoved by Dwalin and disappeared down the path. 

She looked up at Dwalin. “Go with him and keep him safe. I’ll be fine.”

“Your Highness—”

“Do not argue with me. I’ll be fine. Go and watch over him.” 

As Thorin had done, Jasna also didn't wait for him to respond, but hurried out of the room as well, leaving Dwalin to stare after her. 

She grabbed the first wood elf she passed. “Where is your infirmary?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your infirmary? Where is it?”

“Do you know where the throne room is?”

“I do.”

“There is a staircase before it. One floor below, there you will find our healers.”

“Thank you.” She sprinted off toward where she thought Thranduíl’s throne was, got herself turned around once, and finally managed to find it, where three tall, slender she-elves looked up at the same time. 

“Who are you?”

“Jasna Durin, of Erebor. I understand you need an extra pair of hands,” she replied evenly, as other elves began arriving with the wounded. “I worked with Narnerra, trained with her and Óin in Erebor. I am more than capable.”

“But, you are their queen—”

“That matters not now,” she replied, shoving her sleeves to her elbows as she spotted the row of basins along the far wall and moved to wash her hands. “You need my help and I gladly offer it.”

“Very well, if you insist. I am Rainisa.” She pointed then to the other two she-elves, both redheads. “This is Glynne and that is Keenor.”

Jasna bobbed her head. “I’m Jasna and it’s lovely to meet you..” She glanced around at the wounded. “And we should probably get to work.”

With that, she washed and dried her hands, and then dove into the wounded. For the first time since Óin and Narnerra pronounced her ready to treat patients on her own, Jasna wasn't at all frightened. Not nervous or unsure. Instead, she heard Óin’s calm voice, Narnerra’s soft encouragement, and she set to work alongside the elves as if she’d been there for years. 

The casualties were not nearly as terrible as the ones following the Battle of the Five Armies, but they were bad enough that Jasna had time only to wash her hands between patients before the next one was laid out before her. 

But then the flood slowed to a trickle, and Jasna smiled as she snipped the end of the silk thread she’d used to stitch up the last elf. “Glynne, are there any others?”

“I think he’s the last.”

“Oh, thank—”

“Dwalin, let go of me. I do not need to be here.”

“Ah, hush now and let yer wife do what she doest.”

Jasna spun about at the sound of Thorin and Dwalin’s voices and turned to see him with an arm draped about Dwalin’s neck as Dwalin helped him into the infirmary. “Thorin? What happened?”

“He took an axe to the leg, is what happened,” Dwalin grunted, none-too-gently dropping Thorin into the nearest chair. “And the blasted fool still wouldn’t stop.”

Jasna crouched to take a look. The back of his leather boot was sliced and stained red even as he said, “It’s only a gash and I am fine.”

“Thorin, let me be the judge of that, will you?”

He sighed as she unbuckled the boot and eased it from his foot, but his sigh turned into a gasp as she peeled down his ruined hose. A nice chunk of flesh had been taken from the back of his leg, above his ankle, and it bled freely without the pressure of his boot on it. 

“Glynne,” Jasna looked up, “please bring me a poultice of comfrey, a kingsfoil solution, and linen to wrap this.”

“Of course.”

“Jasna,” Thorin tried to pull his foot from her grasp, “I am fine—”

“Stop it, Thorin,” she snapped, taking hold of him once more, “and let me work, please. I’d rather you not lose your foot, if it’s all the same to you.”

He scowled, but relaxed enough, wincing as he wiggled his toes. “It does sting a bit.”

She smiled up at him. “I can have some mead or ale brought to you.”

“Do you need sew it?”

“It’s too large a wound for stitching, and too much is missing to get clean edges,” she told him. “I’ll bandage it with the comfrey and it should heal on its own. Although,” she managed to smile, “you will have a scar from it.”

“What’s one more at this point?”

“Somehow, I thought you might say that.”

Glynne returned then with the supplies and as Jasna went to work cleaning the wound, she said, “Please tell me it’s over.”

“I wish I could, mesmel,” he replied softly, wincing as she washed out the wound with great care. “But, whoever has stepped into the Defiler’s boots was too much the coward to show his face.”

“Do you even know his name?”

“I do not.”

She looked up. “So, someone n-new is hunting you and you don't even kn-kn-know his n-n-name.”

“I do not know it yet. But I will.”

Her stomach curdled. “And then what?”

“What do you think?”

“Thorin.” She patted the wound dry with a clean towel and then set about treating it with the comfrey before wrapping it. 

“We will return to Erebor and I will go and find him and when I do, I will end him.”

“Thorin—”

“I will not discuss it, Jasna. My mind is made up. We take our leave come morning.”

She scowled as she finished bandaging his leg, but wasn't about to get into a fight with him over it there, in the infirmary. 

But they would be discussing it later. 

[edda-grenade]

(full version on pillowfort)

look.

look.

there is a context in which this makes perfect sense—but it's convoluted and ugly and looong so i'll just say i've had a Thing about this ship for a while

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Masterlist!! (Mobile friendly)

These are in a timeline! I heavily recommend reading them in order. From The Hobbit to LOTR (Harry Potter stuff is probs going to be below my Tolkien stuff!

The Hobbit

Imagine Y/N being there when Thorin cuts off Azog’s hand in battle.

Incorrect quotes #3

Imagine Y/N being sent from the dungeons with Thorin to talk to Thranduil

Imagine Bard showing Y/N the black arrow.

Imagine hiding in the throne room when Legolas and Thranduil interrogate the orc.

Imagine breaking the dwarves out of the dungeons of the woodland realm.

Imagine Y/N being there when Tauriel saves Kili. (Not cannon to the Pethryn au)

LOTR

Imagine the reactions of the fellowship when Y/N took the blade for Frodo on Weathertop (Amon Sûl)

Imagine arriving in Rivendell with the fellowship.

Imagine Y/N sitting at the council of Rivendell with Legolas.

Imagine Y/N sassing Boromir at the council of Rivendell (Incorrect quotes #1

Imagine Legolas and Aragorn teasing you at the council of Rivendell (Incorrect quotes #2)

Imagine Y/N sitting at the council of Rivendell while everyone is arguing.

Imagine leaving Rivendell with the Company of the ring

Imagine Y/N giving the answer to the riddle at the doors of Moria.

Imagine Y/N being there when Gandalf gets captured by the Balrog in the mines of Moria

Imagine entering the woods of Lothlórien with the Company of the Ring.

Harry Potter (Golden Era)

Draco

Imagine Showing up in Third year of the Golden Trio Era (set up for later imagines)

Imagine showing up at the Dursley's house to pick up Harry(Pethryn au)

Imagine Being on the train with the golden trio and Remus Lupin. (Pethryn au)

Imagine Draco secretly wanting Y/N

Marauder Era

Sirius

Imagine comforting Sirius (X reader drabble)

James

Real or not real? (series James Potter X reader)

F1

Max Verstappen

I'm always funny, you're just not smart enough to keep up. (teaser)

Task Force 141

Ghost, Johnny and Kyle

Just a little turned around

[luna-writes-stuff]

I would be honored if you could do an imagine for Fili crushing on someone who went on the journey with the Company. He thought she liked his brother, but after seeing him with Tauriel, Fili feels like he has a chance and offers everything to make her as happy as he thought she would be with Kili. Lovely fluff and some misunderstandings with everyone living because IF I CAN'T SEE CANON THEN IT DOESN'T EXIST

Mixed signals, Fili Durin (platonic Kili x reader)

what do you mean they don’t usually live???? Idk I always skip the last half hour of botfa. If I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist.

Ahahah I got taken away a bit so it’s a long request. Sorry….

Headcanons, female s/o

Tw: misunderstood feelings, mention of injury and blood, tiny sprinkle of angst, fluff, Kili being a lil shit, Fili being jealous, few mentions of Y/N I’m so sorry.

- This man is whipped for you. I posted a request similar to this one yesterday, and I feel like it says enough.

- The moment he sees you, he knows you’re his One. Yet, he can’t allow himself to show you. His brother wouldn’t shut up about it and besides that, after Erebor was to be reclaimed, he had to marry royalty in order to form an alliance.

- But Thorin wasn’t blind. He has seen the look in Dis’ eyes many times before. He had seen his sister find her One, so it came as nothing out of the ordinary when he witnessed his nephew do the same.

- And this is pre-dragonsickness. Back when Thorin was all “I hate everyone but I guess I have to keep up with these two idiots so I’ll tolerate them.”

- And he wanted to grant Fili the opportunity to be with his One. He had even told him to simply go for it.

- But Fili was a bit insecure. When you met him, you didn’t seem taken away in any way. It was almost as if it had only been him who was in love.

- And with that, you had grown remarkably close to his brother, Kili. You two joked around all the time. You sat together during the evenings, Kili would help you up on your horse/pony, he would take offer your watches and he even let you hold his bow and arrow. That is basically dwarven language for “I love you and I wish to court you” or “I love you and I’m so glad to have you in my family.”

- What Fili didn’t know is that Thorin told Kili about you being his One. But instead of teasing Fili about it, Kili had made it his duty to agitate his brother so much that he would have no choice but to confess to you before Kili would sneak you away.

- For your information: Kili had no intention of sneaking you away. He just wanted to make it look like it for Fili, and, lucky for him, you had just been going along with it subconsciously.

- But it did not agitate Fili. It made the poor lad confused and tired. You were showing so much affection and endearment to his brother that he felt like he could never compete. Even though Kili had never been attractive in dwarven standards, he knew his way around women. And seeing someone finally pay attention to him, made Fili happy for his brother.

- And Kili just kept up with the act. He was oblivious to what his brother was feeling. Thorin had quite specifically told Kili not to tell his brother, and for once, he didn’t. But when days turned into weeks, Kili made more advances. Not in any way uncomfortable for you, but they had been a step further.

- He would let you rest against him during night shifts, he would let his hand linger on your waist when he helped you get onto your horse/pony. This sneaky bastard even managed to toy with your hair.

- Fili grew absolutely devastated at these moments. He had distanced himself more and truly felt as if his One had been taken away and he would die alone.

- But then Mirkwood happened. It was obvious to Fili that his brother had taken a liking on Tauriel, the female elf that saved him earlier. You had been passed out of exhaustion in your cell, not paying attention to your surroundings anymore.

- And that was when Fili finally decided to speak.

- “What are you doing? I thought you liked Y/N and now you’re flirting with that elf? You can’t treat her like that!”

- And now Kili was confused.

- “I thought you liked Y/N?” He had questioned, not even knowing whether his uncle had been lying to him or not.

- “That doesn’t matter. What matters is, you can’t just run around-“ but Kili had already cut him off. “It does matter. Because Y/N isn’t my One. I’m not attracted to her!”

- And now Fili was dead silent. He had been contemplating on whether to act furious or taken aback. In reality, he had been a bit of both.

- “You don’t like Y/N?” Fili asked, nearly insulted.

- “I was only trying to agitate you. Uncle said she was your One but that you wouldn’t confess.” Kili admitted finally, knowing that keeping the act up any longer wouldn’t work.

- “So you tried to beat it out of me?” The only response the blonde got was a quiet hum.

- “You thought I would take away your chance of happiness?” Fili wondered aloud, his anger now showing more clearly. “Well, not if you put it like that-“ “How else am I supposed to put it?”

- With those words, the space grew quiet. One more question lingered on Fili’s mind, and he had to ask it.

- “Does she know you don’t like her?” A short pause was heard from Kili before he responded. “She does. When we grew closer she told me she wasn’t attracted to me and I told her she wasn’t my One.”

- A sigh of relief came Fili’s way, but his brother kept on talking. “She grew all confused by the concept of ‘Ones’. Had to give her a whole history lesson. She thinks it’s adorable. I’m sure she won’t reject you.” With those words, Fili’s ears pricked up.

- “How so?” “Because every time we are together, she won’t stop asking me about you.” Fili never thought someone could ever bring him more butterflies than when you smiled at him, but as Kili’s sentences reached him, his stomach felt all light again.

- “At first I thought it was because you were ignoring her, but I quickly figured out that wasn’t the case.” Kili shot a quick look his brother’s way, even though he had been in a cell on the other side of the hall. “She likes you, she really does. She’s not as good at hiding it as you are. If you ask her to court you, she won’t say no.”

- Fili had spent the entire night pondering over his brother’s words. Even as they escaped the dungeons and took the boat to Laketown, his anxiety bubbled up.

- But as soon as the orcs entered the city, reality sunk back in. They had been on the run while simultaneously claiming their homeland. There might be a chance neither of you would make it. And it terrified him.

- As you were busy holding off the orcs in Bard’s home, Fili had been right beside you covering your back. He knew asking you to court him would require more steps. Up until this moment you had only held a handful of conversations, but Fili was running out of patience.

- “When all this is over, I need you by my side.” He told you quickly, his voice heavy as he fenced off the attackers. You grew confused at your words, yet your actions did not falter one bit. And it only made Fili more attracted to you. How you maintained yourself on a battlefield, yet somehow managed to hold that perfect look. It could quite easily take his breath away.

- “But I am by your side.” You answered, not catching his meaning, thinking it had been too good to be true.

- “I mean by my side at Erebor. When we reclaim the mountain. Will you stay with me?” Upon your silence, Fili tried explaining his speech. “I know asking you to court me requires more steps but we might not have time for them anymore. I need you to stay with me. We can do all these steps afterwards, I promise.”

- You cast him a quick look before giving him a sincere nod. “I’ll stay with you.”

- And that is exactly what you did. Upon finally arriving at the mountain with the four dwarves, Fili finally got the time to braid your hair, even if Thorin told him to look for the Arkenstone. You had even managed to braid his hair too, even though you had no beads yet.

- Even as Thorin slowly grew insane, Fili had done what he promised; he remained by your side, defending you against his uncle and keeping you as safe as he could.

- During the battle of the five armies, you stayed with him and Kili. You traveled with the three of you, not once separating. Not even when Fili decided you should split up. Because of that, you managed to do quite a number on Azog before Thorin called out to him.

- Azog had gotten a good slash on your leg, nothing life threatening but enough to make you collapse on the spot. Fili had been so worried. He had promised to look out for you, but now you were bleeding out on the snow covered floor. Kili had already ran off for help, even though the possibility he would come back with one would be highly unlikely, as battle was still raging on.

- On top of Ravenhill everything had grown silent. Bodies of dead orcs were littered over the floor but all that mattered to Fili right now was you being safe. Eventually, Kili had ran back with Bilbo, Thorin and Gandalf by his side. They had successfully beaten Azog, finally putting an end to the bloodshed.

- As the mountain was being rebuilt, Oin had put you on bed rest to let your leg heal and Fili had been with you the entire time. Thorin hadn’t even tried to get him for royal duties. He knew he had been awful to you during his dragonsickness, and this was his way of apologizing to you. And you had been fine with it.

- When you had finally recovered, Kili took you to the forges to make beads for Fili. You wanted it to be a surprise for him, but you needed supervision. At first, Dis, Fili and Kili’s mother, had offered to help, but it had become her duty to distract the crown prince.

- A few burns and scratched had started to form on both your and Kili’s hands but it had been worth it. The beads were incredible.

- Fili was so happy when you gave them to him. He was so surprised by the amazing details and the thought and time your poured into them.

- He wears them the entire time. Now exceptions. Not even for bed or bath. None. They must always be in his hair.

- I WANNA WRITE MORE BUT IT’S ALREADY SO LONG BUT JUST ASSUME HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH AND WILL TREASURE YOU FOREVER AND LOVE YOU FOR EVERY LITTLE THING YOU DO

[ao3feed-thehobbit]

Even Autumn Can't Compare

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/gWM58hQ

by Mossy Oak Tree (A_Mossy_Oak_Tree)

A gay one shot about Legolas and an OC because I'm terrible at x readers. But I have only ever found like 2-3 gay/queer shots (not even stories) for any of the The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings characters.

Our favorite dwarven bloodline is still alive because the boys dying destroyed me. Fuck yourself Azog (Azog is my worst hear me out character-).

Honestly this will probably be all over the place because I am, so let's just ride the roller coaster together shall we?

Words: 2394, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Legolas Greenleaf, Thranduil (Tolkien), Bilbo Baggins, Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien), Tauriel (Hobbit Movies), Fíli (Tolkien)

Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Male Character(s), Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Kíli (Tolkien)/Tauriel (Hobbit Movies)

Additional Tags: Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, Fíli and Kíli Are Little Shits, Tauriel and Kili are Bi bc I says so, Legolas doesn't know how to emotion, Thranduil gave Legolas daddy issues, Bilbo and Thorin are the best enemies to lovers trope, They're In Love Your Honor, Autistic Character bc I'm autistic and projecting

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/gWM58hQ