#yes azog's warg is speaking in this

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

@yacrimago​ as always you blow me away with your incredible wolf!Bilbo art (LOOK AT HIM IN HIS BLOOD MOON STAGE!! 😍) and your love for this story that I haven’t even dropped yet. (I PROMISE I WILL SOON THOUGH!) So I was waiting til school was out (🥳) before I could reblog this with a little teaser attached. 👀 Just for being an amazing human, fan, and artist! 💗💗💗

Okay, I was going to do some more Blood Moon!Bilbo because of this (precious babe!), but I was watching AUJ the other night and I knew exactly how I wanted to do this scene so how about some wolf!Bilbo going absolutely feral on the orc about to remove Thorin’s head?

Warning: Graphic Violence

When Bilbo finally emerged from the cave into the bright sunlight, he thought perhaps whatever strange magic that had extended his time on two legs had come to an end. However, there was no uncomfortable shifting of bones under his skin or the heavy heat that seemed to weigh on him more in his wolf state. For the first time in over thirty years, Bilbo was able to feel the last of the sun’s rays on his skin. Bilbo closed his eyes, tilting his head west, and promptly began to sob. 

He knew he should focus on finding the dwarves. He knew he was far from safe as his nose still retained some of its former strength to know the hills would be crawling with goblins soon. But it was too much. If it wasn’t for the unfortunate side-effect of being invisible, BIlbo would never take the unassuming golden ring off his finger. Half the Shire thought he was dead anyways, and Thorin made it very clear he didn’t want him anymore. Why not live this way? He was a hobbit again. Didn’t that make it worth it?

Bilbo froze, totally and completely conflicted. What if Gandalf was wrong? What if there wasn’t a cure for this curse at the end of this journey? Would being invisible be any worse than being a wolf forever? It was a moment that stretched before him, waiting on a decision that was ultimately stolen from him by a long deep howl. Bilbo looked up, startled to see the sun had already set. That wasn’t what had his heart jumping to beat out of his chest though. It was thirteen shouts followed by more howls and a commanding roar. Orcs and wargs. Bilbo was out of time.

Grimacing slightly, he searched the ground for something he could use as a tie. There was a long strip of leather that could only have belonged to his dwarves. Rolled up, it served his purpose well as he fastened it into a long chain that would loop over his head. Now the tricky part. He slid it through the ring on his finger, making sure to tie it securely before taking a deep breath, and popping the ring off. The change was immediate and familiar, but somehow made worse by the few hours extra he had gotten in his true form. Bilbo shook out his fur to get rid of the tingling left behind, feeling relief when he heard the ring bouncing against his neck. At least he hadn’t lost his little trinket. And it somehow managed to perfectly hide itself in the fur on his chest. Bilbo didn’t have time to congratulate himself though. His dwarves were in trouble. 

He put his nose to the ground, picking up on Thorin’s scent immediately which had him charging full speed down the cliff face. The closer he got, the more he was able to pick up. The hunger of the wargs, the stench of the orcs, the fear of the company, and…burning pine? Clearly there was some sort of battle going on, and Bilbo needed to be there. He had to be there for Thorin. Even if the dwarf didn’t want him anymore. And then Bilbo heard a sound that chilled him to the bone. A cry of pain from a proud dwarf king.

Rational thought left him as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and a low growl left his throat. Later in his memories, he could recall pieces of the scene he stumbled upon. Gandalf and the Company trapped in a fallen tree, the wargs keeping away from the scattered patches of fire on the cliff, but mostly his vision zoned into Thorin. Thorin laying on a large rock, defeated and reaching for a sword just outside the range of his fingertips, and the large orc posed to remove his head from his body.

He snarled, buying just a small moment of hesitation from the orc, as Bilbo had him pinned with his throat ripped out before he could even defend himself with his blade. Black blood dripped from Bilbo’s jaws as he placed himself defensively between the rest of the orcs and Thorin, his teeth bared to his enemies.

The tension rose exponentially in the clearing as everyone seemed to wait with breath held. The wargs behind the fire paced and whined in uncertainty as even the dwarves fell silent at Bilbo’s unexpected appearance. However, the white orc upon his equally white warg regarded Bilbo coolly. In fact, there was something…off with the way the warg was staring at Bilbo. Something akin to hatred and anticipation all at once. Bilbo flicked an ear, but refused to move a muscle.

“Ilzgoshn (Star-howler).”

At first Bilbo thought the foreign word had come from the orc, but then the warg made a guttural noise that Bilbo was shocked he could actually understand.

“I will wash the hillside with your blood. Your clan should have stuck to your forests.”

Bilbo snapped at the warg and arched his back. A clear warning to stay away. The warg lifted its head almost in shock before giving a menacing purr.

“You know nothing of the Clans, do you, Pup? It’ll make it that much sweeter when I deliver your pelt to your alpha.”

It was at that point that several things happened. The first being the dwarves rallying into battle to attack the other orcs and wargs. The white orc dismounted from the warg and started to make his way towards Thorin. Bilbo immediately launched himself towards the orc when the white warg slammed him into the ground. It moved in for the kill while Bilbo was on his back, and the wolf quickly kicked at the underside of its jaw leaving bloody scratches that got the warg to move away.

Bilbo flipped himself back to his feet, circling the warg. His eyes flickered to Thorin, but Dwalin and Gloin had managed to distract the white orc enough to buy the king a small measure of protection. Still Bilbo would have to wrap things up with this strange warg quickly. He knew the beast had power on its side, but maybe Bilbo could use speed to his advantage. 

Seeing an opening, Bilbo danced in close getting the warg to snap before he launched himself onto its back. He latched down on the warg’s neck causing it to roar in protest as it tried to throw Bilbo off. Bilbo held on tight, knowing he was dead if he let go now. That’s when something sharp punctured itself into his side, throwing him off the warg. Bilbo yelped in pain as he flew through the air and hit into the side of a boulder. The warg was still shaking his head, Bilbo teeth clearly having done some damage. It was the white orc who was glaring at Bilbo, his claw hand dripping in red blood. Bilbo watched him approach, weakly trying to rise to his feet. He feared that this could be his end as the orc raised his mace when a large shadow passed overhead. Bilbo looked up not sure he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. However, as it swooped down to pick up dwarves, sending wargs and orcs running, Bilbo had to accept that there really were giant eagles invading their battle. And one of them was aiming for Bilbo right now, claws outstretched.

Still thinking of that beautiful story of @sunnyrosewritesstuff with the reverse werewolf.

Not my best but I was just doodling a bit.

[ironmandeficiency]

lovesick fools

pairing: bilbo baggins / reader

word count: 2279

summary: reader and bilbo think that the other harbors a crush on thorin, and the dwarven king is the only one who can smash their heads together hard enough to make them see sense

a/n: this is my january fic for both @oonajaeadira & @writeforfandoms and the year of themed creation challenge i joined! this month’s theme is “requited love but they’re idiots” & the overarching theme for the year is “the year of idiots”

another a/n: reader’s race/gender/appearance are left ambiguous. also jsyk i’m a sucker for idiots to lovers, it’s literally my favorite trope

you learned the hard way to not ask if things could get worse. when you muttered the cursed phrase after narrowly avoiding turning to warg chow, the offense and abject horror on the dwarves’ faces made you think someone had died.

“oh, you’ve done it now!” dwalin grumbled, continuing to complain in angry khuzdul as the company of thorin oakenshield took a moment to breathe after running for their lives yet again.

instead of acknowledging dwalin’s bitching, you slumped against a shady tree, letting your breathing slow down so the rest of your body could catch up. if you had known that the journey to reclaim erebor would include this much running, you would have fought a lot harder to keep the ponies that ran away ages ago.

in the distance, you could see nori and dori tending to their littlest brother, ori giving them both half-hearted swats away from their prodding. bifur and bofur were gathering wood for a fire to cook a quick meal, and you heard thorin delegate the task of hunting to his nephews.

thorin and bilbo were otherwise enthralled in conversation, their attention solely focused on each other. you couldn’t decipher any words or tones from your slouched position, simply noting that it was significantly less hostile than their previous interactions. they were situated so close together you’d be hard pressed to slide one of fili’s daggers between the two without nicking one of them. the only reason this rankled you more than it should have is that a week ago, bilbo wouldn’t have been caught dead sitting so close to the king, damn near snuggling him.

after bilbo risked his life to save thorin from azog, the latter gained a deeper respect for the company’s burglar. it seems that this newfound respect and acceptance made your dear hobbit more bold in showing affection to thorin.

you could almost feel your skin turning green with envy of the dwarf’s position, curling that close to bilbo and sharing hushed whispers with the same intimacy you’ve been craving to receive since before the trolls.

a nagging part of your brain told you that the tight embrace they shared on the carrock was a bit more than a gesture of friendship. the rest of your brain (the parts with common sense) told it to shut up, rationalizing that it was an act of camaraderie in the throes of emotion. but getting your thoughts to silence themselves was as likely as getting gloin to stop bragging about his dear gimli.

the underbrush surrounding you and your tree are ruffled around as you’re joined by balin. he eases himself to the ground beside you without a word, knowing that he’s always welcome company. the smug bastard.

“are ye tryin’ ta finish the defiler’s task for him?” you give the older dwarf a look of confusion, not knowing what he meant. his soft laugh mildly jabs at your nerves, unsure of his meaning and now growing insecure. “if looks could kill, fíli would be king under the mountain before we even reach it.”

of course, the one dwarf that put himself in your presence was the only one who made a habit of not speaking plainly. an eye roll conveys this frustration and he clarifies. “your eyes bear the same ferocity as the drake’s roar and are just as deadly as his fire, and they’re aimed directly at thorin.”

well now you’ve gone and done it, offending balin and openly showing animosity towards thorin. you’d be lucky to remain in the company at this rate once thorin finds out.

you’re sputtering through hasty, fearful apologies. it was your fault for not realizing that your feelings were on display to that magnitude, and now you were trying to cover your ass to keep from being booted from the company in the closest town.

balin, the ever observant dwarf, notices this budding anxiety and rests a calming hand on your shoulder as he continues. “matters of the heart are rather tricky, and while i’m not one to meddle in the lives of others, i can give some sound advice if asked.”

balin not meddling? that’s a pile of shit if you’ve ever heard one. next to nori and bofur, the eldest son of fundin was the biggest meddler this side of the misty mountains. you half expected there to be a gossiper’s guild established once the mountain was restored.

“then tell me, master dwarf, what is your advice?” you didn’t mean to snap at him so, but your temper flared when bilbo and thorin seemed to scoot even closer to each other than they already were. once again, you apologize for your rashness.

he hummed in thought, shooing your hand away gently with a knowing smile that had a frightening resemblance to gandalf’s. “tell him how you feel, no matter how grim the current situation seems to be. even if his answer is not what you wish, he will not let it interfere with the quest or your role in it.”

that made sense… almost.

not even the most ardent love such as yours would sway the stalwart bilbo baggins from his commitment to the company. when he gives his word, it’s guaranteed to be kept. why would admitting your feelings to bilbo even hypothetically derail either of you from the objective? he didn’t have a personal stake in the quest outside of his promise, only the kindness of his heart and tookish sense of adventure kept him on the road to erebor. kept him with you.

rationally, the only person who had a true say in who stayed or left the company was thorin. he was the exiled prince, the future king, the leader of this quest. his word was law; he could order you to walk on your hands and eat with your feet the rest of the journey and you’d be obligated to comply.

…wait a minute, did balin think you harbored affection for thorin?

you didn’t know what was worse, balin believing the falsehood or knowing where your heart truly lies. only time would tell.

“simply put, i haven’t the slightest idea what to do!”

bilbo’s been lamenting on and on about you to thorin for nearly thirty minutes. didn’t even ask to sit next to him by the fire, just plopped himself down, scooted in close, and began his woeful soliloquy.

while thorin respects the hobbit and appreciates his friendship, he’s just about had it. each time you and bilbo catch each other’s eyes, every soft word you exchange, it gets repeated back to him in a level of detail only found in the romance novels dwalin pretends to loathe.

to thorin, the solution to bilbo’s problem is simple: he needs to give you a gift worthy of your hand while stating his intentions towards you. maybe a little bit of affection while he was at it. he didn’t understand the nuance that bilbo kept applying to courting you, especially since you would accept anything given to you by the genteel hobbit.

back in rivendell, he caught you gazing at bilbo with gentle longing and pure intentions. despite every feeble attempt made to hide your feelings from the dwarf king, he called you on them far too quick for your liking and swore to keep your secret.

shortly after, bilbo asked him for advice on how to court you. the advice was given with a smile, hoping that it would be taken eagerly and no one else would have to deal with the lovesick fools dancing around each other.

he hoped in vain because here bilbo was, asking the same questions as if thorin would miraculously give a different answer.

thorin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in resigned exasperation. this was almost worse than the trolls. “i’ve already given you my thoughts on the matter, bilbo. whether you use that information to your advantage is solely up to you.”

bilbo’s eyes nearly popped from his skull. he was quick to begin hushing the dwarf (the nerve!) and placing himself even further into thorin’s personal space. “i beg of you, thorin, keep your voice down!”

a handful of the others looked on, wondering why bilbo exclaimed so loud when thorin was simply talking.

“i’ll keep my voice down when you tell me something that not every man here already knows,” thorin scoffed at the hobbit, almost talking louder out of spite. “quite frankly, i have half a mind to take care of this problem myself.”

f and k return from hunting, both of them laden with plenty of meat and a few foraged bits and come upon the edge of chaos. their uncle and their burglar are locked in a staring contest fueled by frustration and fear. barring your fiery glare towards the two, the others are suspended in anticipation, eyes flitting back and forth between their king and their burglar.

neither of them can find it in themselves to be ashamed of the way they flinch when you storm away from your tree and towards thorin. you’re right scary when your features are pulled into a scowl that rivals the pale orc.

“what did we just walk into, fee?”

“i believe the proper term for this situation is ‘shitshow’, brother.”

you push your way between thorin and bilbo and plant your feet firmly, your eyes nearly setting thorin on fire with the same intensity balin noted earlier. “you don’t have to take care of a damned thing, your majesty.” everyone flinches at the malice laced into the honorific. none of them ever heard you speak with such vitriol in your voice and it was rather jarring.

“i know what you and bilbo have been scheming about, so save your breath.” bilbo’s pained gasp almost made you turn around and hug your dearest friend until he was laughing again. but you were furious and determined, a lethal combination when targeted at a specific someone and you couldn’t stop now.

thorin’s confusion and frustration was palpable. “what could you possibly be referring to? there’s been no scheming done by anyone here!”

“don’t take me for a fool, oakenshield! your intentions with bilbo are clear!”

“and just what might those be?”

you growl in fury as you lay the accusation bare. “you intend to court him, make him consort of erebor! even after everything i told you!” tears are fighting to escape but you push them back. you can’t cry yet, not before you make your feelings clear. “i confided in you, you were my friend! how dare you!” with every word a finger is harshly jabbed into his chest.

every other dwarf was shouting over another, trying to make heads or tails of your words. the anticipation gave way to confusion, no one knowing where to start. thorin and bilbo as king and consort? but what about your feelings for thorin? wait, doesn’t bilbo have feelings for you? where was thorin’s heart in all this?

you had tear tracks on your face despite your valiant efforts to keep them at bay. bilbo had a hand pressed to his mouth as he sat himself back on the ground, struggling to keep himself together. thorin’s company was going back and forth with no end to the bickering in sight.

thorin was pissed.

“enough!”

near complete silence followed thorin’s shout, broken only by the occasional sniffles of you and bilbo.

thorin turned to face you, resting a hand on your shoulder and hoping you wouldn’t shrug it off. “i am sorry for leading you to believe i would ever betray your trust in such a fashion.” his eyes met bilbo’s for a moment. when the hobbit nodded solemnly, thorin continued. “bilbo’s been seeking my advice for a while now on how to go about courting you. unfortunately for everyone, the lovesick fool hasn’t done anything to follow said advice.”

“i only see you as a friend, both of you. you’re important members of this company and have grown into admirable companions.” thorin offers a hand to bilbo, encouraging him to stand and face you. “now for the sake of my sanity, please profess your love for each other so we don’t have to deal with your constant yearning anymore!” with that, thorin walks away and shoos the others off to give you both space.

your eyes meet bilbo’s. every negative feeling is now replaced with hope, your heart mending itself just as quick as it broke. the pad of his thumb gently brushes away the fresh tears that were about to fall, his smile soft and eyes kind. “i’m afraid that the oaf of a king is right, i do love you. i love you most ardently, my dear. and i apologize that i didn’t have the courage to tell you sooner.”

“there’s nothing to forgive,” your head leans gently into his hand, enjoying the affection that you’ve been craving for so long. “i love you too, bilbo, so much.” you both leaned in and stole a tender kiss, finally able to indulge the way you deserved.

in the not-so-distant distance, the others were being their usual loud selves trying to watch you without letting you catch them. they weren’t doing that well of a job. you hear slightly muffled whoops and coin bags jingling as they’re swapped between the rest of the company. most of them were going to thorin despite the fireless grunts about cheating.

“the gall of those dwarves! they placed bets on us!” bilbo’s offended huff made you laugh. your hobbit admired the way your eyes scrunched, surprising even himself with the way he snags another kiss from your smiling lips. the courage of hobbits, indeed.

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain: Chapter 10

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

Please comment, reblog, and like!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Vedis narrowed her eyes at Thorin. Twice within one day, Thorin had tried to paint Bilbo in a poor light. She crossed her arms. Next to her, Oreliell had also become tense at Thorin’s comment.

“Thorin,” she said in a slightly warning tone.

Thorin looked at them, eyes also narrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly-

“No, he isn’t.”

Everyone turned quickly to find Bilbo standing above them. The company gasped at the sight of him. The hobbit offered a smile. He looked a little scrapped up, but in no worse condition than anyone else.

“Bilbo Baggins!” Gandalf said. “I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life.”

Vedis glanced at Thorin. He was trying to appear stoic, but she could read the shock in his eyes at Bilbo’s appearance. She couldn’t help but feel proud that Bilbo had just proven Thorin wrong.

“Bilbo,” Kili said with a grin. “We’d given you up!”

“How on earth did you get past the goblins?” Fili asked.

“How, indeed,” Dwalin muttered.

Bilbo chuckled nervously and shifted from side to side.

“Well, what does it matter?” Gandalf said. “He’s back.”

“It matters,” Thorin said. He looked at Bilbo. “Why did you come back?”

“Look, I know you doubt me,” Bilbo said. “I know you always have. And you’re right. I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that’s where I belong. That’s home. That’s why I came back. Cause you don’t have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can.”

Vedis smiled, glancing at Oreliell before looking at her feet. She couldn’t agree more with Bilbo. What he said, everything he said, they could relate to. It was part of why they roamed Middle-Earth. Yes, they didn’t quite have a home either, but they could relate to both Bilbo and the dwarves. 

Suddenly, a deep growling caught her ear. Vedis lifted her head and scanned the woods. She sensed Oreliell stiffen beside her.

“Do you hear that?” she asked her sister.

Oreliell nodded slightly as they tried to determine what the noise was, and where it was coming from.

“[Run them down!]” Vedis’ eyes widened. Black speech. “[Tear them to pieces!]”

Howls suddenly filled the air.

“Orc pack,” Oreliell said.

“Out of the frying pan,” Thorin said.

“And into the fire,” Gandalf finished. “Run. Run!”

The company took off down the hill once more. Vedis urged the others in front of her, training her eyes on the mountain above them. Through the trees, she was able to make out the pack. Behind the main pack, was a familiar figure.

The pale orc. Azog.

Vedis pulled out her sword, twirled it briefly before slicing through a warg’s front legs. The creature yelped as it collapsed, growling then at the sight of her. She quickly killed it before racing after the others.

The dwarves held their own against the wargs that came too close, swiftly killing them before they could do any harm. Even Bilbo managed to kill one, though he appeared frozen in shock.

“Up into the trees!” Gandalf cried. “All of you! Come on, climb!”

If they weren’t being hunted by an orc pack, the sight would almost be amusing. The dwarves lifted themselves up with an almost expert speed, climbing to heights that the wargs would not be able to reach. Those who were struggling a little more received boosts from Oreliell and the other dwarves. Vedis remained on the ground, killing any wargs that got too close while they got to safety.

She saw Bilbo struggling to pull his sword from a warg’s skull. She wished she was able to call out to him, to tell him to hurry up. He finally pulled his sword free and ran to Vedis, who lifted him into the nearest tree before following. 

A moment later, wargs were swarming the base of the trees, barking wildly and jumping, trying to catch any piece of the company that they could. Vedis glared down at the creatures, their foul smell reaching her nose. With a look toward Bilbo, she urged him a little higher.

The wargs seemed to settle for a moment, simply circling and turning their gaze toward their leader.

“Azog,” Thorin gasped.

“[Do you smell it?]” Azog said, taking a deep breath. “[The scent of fear? I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain.]”

Vedis looked at Thorin. She could easily read the pain in his eyes.

“It cannot be.”

“[That one is mine.]” Azog pointed his horrible looking club at Thorin. “[Kill the others!]”

The pack launched forward. They jumped higher than before. Their jaws snapped and their claws ripped branches off the trees. Their bodies collided with the trees so hard that they shook. The company cried out in fear, trying to push themselves higher out of reach. Vedis tried to use her sword when she could, but there was too great of a risk of hitting someone.

Suddenly, the base of one of the trees gave way. The weight of the wargs caused it to begin to tip.

“Jump!”

Vedis grabbed Bilbo’s arm and helped him into the next tree. But that was only the beginning. The other trees began to fall, one right into the next. The company was forced to jump from tree to tree to avoid being eaten. Some dwarves barely managed the jump before having to make the next.

Vedis breathed deeply once the trees stopped moving. Only one was left standing, right at the edge of the cliffside. She adjusted her grip on the branches, making room for others around her to secure themselves. At the base, the wargs continued to jump, trying to make their tree fall like the others had.

Just then, a flaming pine cone flew to the ground, catching fire to the dead grass and branches. Vedis looked up, seeing Gandalf lighting pine cones on fire. He passed them down to the other dwarves, who quickly followed his lead. They launched their new weapons at the wargs, forcing them back. Vedis took a cone from Bifur and threw it, smirking when it hit a warg and caught its fur on fire.

The dwarves cheered as the wargs retreated behind the wall of fire that had been made. But the victory was short lived. Their tree finally began to tip back. Vedis grabbed on to the branch, looking around quickly for her sister. Oreliell was a little higher up, one arm around Oin to keep him in place. Vedis looked down. The roots were barely holding onto the earth. Above her, she could hear the dwarves struggling to hold on.

A boot suddenly hit the trunk next to her. Vedis’ eyes widened when she saw that they belonged to Thorin. His blade was drawn and he was stalking his way down the trunk.

Amada nogoth, Vedis thought. He is going to get himself killed.

Thorin started into a run, his sword lifted up and an oaken shield in front of him. Even from her place on the tree, Vedis could see the satisfaction on Azog’s face. The pale orc urged his warg forward, knocking Thorin down heavily. Thorin pushed himself back up while Azog lazily circled him. Just as Thorin got to his feet, Azog swung his mace and knocked Thorin back to the ground.

She watched as the white warg clamped its jaw around Thorin’s body, causing him to cry out in pain. Dwalin shouted for his friend, but nearly fell off the tree trying to get to him. Bilbo suddenly rose to his feet amongst the cries of the company. Vedis looked at the hobbit in shock as he pulled out his sword. The hobbit then took off toward Thorin, who had again been thrown, and was able to be killed.

“Vedis! What’s happening?” Oreliell called.

“Thorin is going to lose this fight and Bilbo is trying to save him.”

She pulled herself to her feet, balancing on the tree. She heard Oreliell doing the same, but felt someone hit her leg. Vedis glanced down at Dwalin.

“Help me up, lass,” he growled, eyes darting to Thorin. “Quickly!”

Vedis grabbed his arm and pulled him up. Behind them, Fili and Kili were doing the same. The group shared a brief look of understanding. They each broke into a run, their weapons drawn. The wargs were stalking toward Bilbo, who was protecting Thorin.

At the last moment, they let out war cries, hacking into the nearest creature. The wargs quickly turned their attention to their attackers. Vedis lept off the nearest rock to cut off an orc’s head. Without its rider, the warg was another easy kill. 

“Bilbo!” Oreliell shouted.

Vedis turned quickly, seeing the hobbit get thrown to the ground. She was suddenly pushed to the ground by a warg, but rolled to get back to her feet.

A piercing screech suddenly filled the air, causing everyone to pause as giant eagles swooped in. They grabbed wargs in their talons and threw them over the cliff. Others knocked down trees or used their wings to direct the fire toward the pack. The rest were helping pull the dwarves from the fight.

With the new distraction, Vedis killed the warg before her and joined her sister’s side. They watched as an eagle gently lifted Thorin’s body off the ground and carried him to safety. Azog roared at the eagles as another appeared a moment later to take Bilbo away.

The orc looked around, enraged that his prey was being taken away from him. His eyes eventually landed on the elves, who had their swords ready for an orc that dared come close. Azog narrowed his eyes at them, but they returned the look with hard stares.

“[Hunters,]” he growled, his grip tightening on his mace.

“Vedis! Oreliell!” Kili shouted as he and Fili were picked up. “Let’s go!”

One last eagle was approaching from the side, dipping just slightly out of view. The sisters sheathed their swords and ran for the cliff. With a quick glance at one another, they jumped, landing on the great eagle’s back. The eagle flapped its wings, soaring high into the air to catch up with the other eagles and the rest of the company. 

Once they were close enough, Vedis did a quick count and sighed in relief. Everyone was accounted for. She let herself relax into the eagle’s back.

“Thorin!”

She glanced up at Fili’s shout. At the front of the group was the eagle carrying Thorin, but he was still unconscious.

“I can’t tell what state he’s in,” Oreliell said. “Can you?”

Vedis shook her head. She had been distracted by the fight to truly check on him other than help protect his body. And at their distance now, it was difficult to tell. 

The eagles flew as the sun came up, passing over the Misty Mountains and vast forests. The trip itself was peaceful, though everyone was anxious over the state of their leader.

Eventually, the eagles came upon a large rock structure, the top shaped like a bear. Vedis recognized the Carrock from their previous journeys.

The eagle carrying Thorin approached first, gently depositing him on the rock. Gandalf was the next to land and hurried to the dwarf king. One by one, the eagles made their way around to drop the company off. As Oreliell and Vedis dismounted their eagle, they saw the dwarves helping Thorin to his feet. They couldn’t help but sigh in relief at the sight.

“You!” he suddenly said, shrugging the helping hands away. His voice sounded angry as he looked at Bilbo. Vedis almost immediately started glaring at the back of Thorin’s head. “What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!” He stalked toward Bilbo. “Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild and that you had no place amongst us?”

Oreliell crossed her arms, but neither woman made a move forward. There was something in the way Thorin’s voice changed as he continued to speak that made them pause.

“I have never been so wrong in all my life.” Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo. The dwarves cheered, finally able to relax. Vedis exchanged smiles with her sister at the sight of Bilbo’s shocked, yet happy expression. “But I am sorry I doubted you.”

“No, I would have doubted me too,” Bilbo said. “I’m not a hero or a warrior. Not even a burglar.”

The company chuckled. The eagles finally made their departure with one last screech. Most of the company turned to watch them leave, taking in the great beasts in the morning light.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Bilbo’s words caused everyone to turn again, this time looking in the opposite direction they had come from. The company walked further up the Carrock to get a better view of the horizon. In the far distance, a singular mountain could be seen.

“Erebor,” Gandalf said. “The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle-Earth.”

“Our home,” Thorin breathed.

“A raven!” Oin said, pointing at a bird that flew past them. “The birds are returning to the mountain.

“That is a thrush, dear Oin,” Oreliell said.

“But we’ll take it as a sign,” Thorin replied. “A good omen.”

“You’re right,” Bilbo said. “I do believe the worst is behind us.”

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Returning Home Chapter 9- Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Thorin Oakenshield x Bellarose Baggins

Description: The Company meets an unlikely ally in the form of a skin-changer.

Word Count: 2.4k

The sun was beginning to rise as Bilbo and Bellarose peeked over some rocks on a high ledge. There, they saw Azog and his Warg scouts running along a ridgeline a little too close for Bellarose’s comfort. Occasionally they stopped to smell the air, obviously trying to pick up the Company’s scent. Thankfully it looked like they didn’t sense the Company nearby because they ran off. 

The Hobbits sighed in relief, though their relief didn’t last long when they heard a snarl from the side. They ducked behind the rocks, waiting for a moment before risking another peek over the rocks. Bellarose’s eyes widened when she noticed a bear watching Azog from another pile of rocks, snarling softly. Only…it wasn’t the size of a normal bear. It was far larger than anything she’d ever seen, and the roar it let out only served to frighten her further. 

“Come on,” Bilbo whispered from beside her, gesturing for them to sneak away. The younger girl did as he said and the two of them made their way back to the Company. 

“How close is the pack?” Dwalin asked. 

“Too close,” Bellarose breathed out. “A couple of leagues, no more, but that is not the worst of it.”

“Have the Wargs picked up our scent?” The Dwarf questioned eagerly. 

“Not yet, but they will; we have another problem,” Bilbo answered this time. 

“Did they see you?” Gandalf asked urgently. “They saw you!”

“What? No, that's not it.” The younger Baggins responded, earning a smile from the Wizard as he turned to the Dwarves. 

“What did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material, both of them.” The others chuckled loudly and nodded in agreement. Bellarose shared an exasperated look with her brother, frustrated that they weren’t listening to them.

“Will you listen- Will you just listen?” She questioned loudly, catching the attention of the Company once again. “We’re trying to tell you there is something else out there!” The Dwarves looked worried at that, but Gandalf was the only one to speak. 

“What form did it take? Like a bear?”

“Ye…” Bilbo paused, looking at the Wizard curiously. “Y-yes. But bigger, much bigger.”

“You knew about this beast?” Bofur questioned Gandalf, but the Wizard didn’t answer and instead walked a few steps away. “I say we double back.”

“And be run down by a pack of Orcs?” Bellarose retorted.

“There is a house, it’s not far from here, where we might take refuge,” Gandalf mentioned. 

“Whose house? Are they friend or foe?” Asked Thorin. Gandalf remained silent for a moment in thought. 

“Neither. He will help us, or he will kill us.” The Company looked amongst themselves in dismay and worry. 

“What choice do we have?” Thorin grumbled. The Gray Wizard opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped by a roar splitting behind them. It was the bear!

“None,” Bellarose answered quickly. “Run!” 

Once again the Company found themselves running across streams and plains with no destination yet. Upon reaching a forest they discovered that Azog and his scouts were hot on their trail, which only spurred them on. As they reached a clearing on the other side of the forest Bellarose tripped on a large log she hadn’t previously seen. A pained cry left her lips as her ankle hit a piece of wood sticking out of the log and she stumbled to the ground. She attempted to scramble to her feet though in her panic it wasn’t quite working. 

She faintly heard her name being called before she was suddenly picked up. Thorin slung her around to essentially piggyback her and continued running close behind the rest of the Company. 

“To the house!” Gandalf instructed exigently, leading them on to a house surrounded by hedge in the middle of the plain. Bombur was (surprisingly) the first one to reach the door, but as it turned out, it was locked. That meant he ran directly into the door, bouncing off of it which nearly made the girl laugh if she wasn’t so scared. 

“Come on, get inside!” Gandalf yelled. The rest of the Company reached the door just seconds later, throwing themselves against it and trying to open it. Bellarose turned her head to the entrance of the glade worriedly, realizing the bear was gaining on them quickly. A loud roar tore from the bear’s throat, which caught Gandalf’s attention. 

“Open the door!” The Wizard yelled urgently, turning back to the others. One of the Dwarves yelled at the others to hurry before they finally managed to get the door open. 

They ran inside and attempted to close the door. The bear, however, had managed to get his head through the door in the split second it took for them to turn around. Thorin dropped Bellarose with a surprising amount of care before running to the door to help the other Dwarves try to push the door closed. The Hobbit girl leaned against the wall beside the front window of the house and watched fearfully. It took a minute or two but they managed to get the door closed and drop the bolt across it with one final heave. Everyone breathed a sigh of a mix of shock, fear, exhaustion and relief. 

“What is that?” Ori asked. The Wizard faced him nonchalantly.

“That...is our host,” he answered, which caused everyone to look at him in bewilderment and disbelief. “His name is Beorn, and he is a skin-changer. Sometimes he’s a huge black bear, sometimes he’s a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not overfond of dwarves.” Bellarose looked around unsurely, noticing the Dwarves’ dismayed expression. The door creaked just a bit as Ori peaked out of a crack in the door. 

“He’s leaving!”

“Come away from there!” Dori demanded, pulling his brother away from the door with a disgruntled look. “It’s not natural, none of it. It’s obvious: he’s under some dark spell.” Gandalf faced him with an indignant look. 

“Don’t be a fool; he’s under no enchantment but his own. Alright now, get some sleep, all of you. You’ll be safe here tonight.” The Dwarves did as he said, beginning to spread out around the house. Well, except Thorin, who stopped short when he heard Bellarose grunt in pain as she stood straight and attempted to walk on her hurt ankle. 

“Oin,” he called, gesturing to the girl when the older Dwarf faced him. Oin understood immediately and moved Bellarose to sit in a large wooden chair and knelt down to examine her ankle. She hissed quietly as he moved it around to make sure it wasn’t broken. 

“Doesn’t feel broken or fractured,” he informed her with a reassuring grin. “Just a small sprain. I’ll wrap it to make sure it doesn’t move.” 

“And perhaps some ginger to help the swelling go down?” The girl asked hopefully, earning a nod from the Dwarf. 

“Wonderful idea. Either way though, I don’t recommend you walk on it for the rest of the night. With luck it’ll be better by morning.” Bellarose offered him a grateful smile. 

“Thank you, Oin.” The Dwarf merely nodded again and walked over to his medical supply bag in search of the herb. 

While she waited, Bellarose decided to check on the rest of the Company from where she sat. Her brows furrowed when she noticed Thorin crouching beside her pack. It looked like he was going through it, but upon looking closer she realized he was grabbing her bedroll out of her bag so he could lay it out. 

“Oh, Thorin you don’t have to do that,” she said quickly. 

“And let you make it by yourself with an injured ankle? I think not,” He retorted with an amused grin at her. The girl rolled her eyes playfully and sat back in her seat. It was silent between them for a moment before she looked at him again. 

“Thank you…for coming back for me,” she muttered, much softer this time. “It was a big risk to turn back with those scouts behind us. 

“I don’t think I would’ve had it in me to leave you behind,” he admitted quietly. “You are a valuable asset to this Company. It would have been a shame to lose one of our burglars.” The girl nodded, not quite knowing what to say. The way that he called her valuable in such a soft tone caused butterflies to erupt in her stomach, which surprised her. After all they’d been through she didn’t understand why that was the exact moment she’d become flustered about something he said. 

“Here we are, ginger for the swelling,” Oin said, handing her the herb. The girl thanked him and ate it, scrunching up her nose at the slight spice that accompanied the flavor. 

“I’ve already apologized to your brother, but I am sorry that I have doubted him so much,” he continued after a moment when she didn’t respond. 

“I forgave you the moment you apologized to him,” the girl answered simply, a small smile gracing her face as she looked at him. A smile to match hers appeared on the Dwarf’s face and he chuckled quietly. 

“You are much kinder than me. If I heard someone continually doubt my sister with no evidence I would not let it slide.”

“Not gonna lie, I came close to putting you in your place several times,” she admitted, earning another laugh from Thorin. It wasn’t quite a mocking laugh, but more one of amusement at the thought of such a small creature chewing him out. 

“Well I’m glad it didn’t come to that,” he muttered gently. “Get some sleep.” 

The girl nodded and slid from the chair down to her bedroll which Thorin had thankfully set up right beside her. Her eyes stayed on Thorin as he walked a few steps away to set up his own bedroll. As she watched him, a smile slowly formed on her face. He’d shown her two incredible acts of kindness in one day. Not to mention calling her valuable and saying that he didn’t have the heart to leave her left her with a racing heart. That smile stayed on her face as she turned over to get some sleep. 

Bellarose woke up early the next morning to the smell of cooking food. Her brows furrowed as she sat up, noting that most of the Company was no longer in their bedrolls. Fili and Kili sat up soon after her and looked around. The trio glanced at each other questioningly before standing in unison to see what those delicious aromas were. Upon walking to the dining area they were met with a small feast of eggs, bacon, sausage and toast with jam. Everyone else (save for Bilbo) was already sitting at the table helping themselves. 

“Ah, it’s about time you woke up,” Bofur joked from his seat. “Come take a seat and help yourselves before Bombur takes it all.” The trio laughed and did as he said. Bellarose took a seat near the end of the table as she stared at the food in awe. 

“This is amazing,” she muttered before looking at Thorin, who sat across from her. “Who made it?” 

“I did,” a deep voice spoke from behind her. She jolted in surprise then turned around, nearly breaking her neck as her head snapped upwards to see a tall (and slightly hair) man standing behind her. This must’ve been Beorn, the skin-changer Gandalf talked about.

“Tea or milk?” The man asked, holding up a kettle in one hand and a pitcher of what she assumed to be milk in the other. 

“Uh, milk please,” she answered after a moment. The man nodded and poured the milk in a mug that sat in front of her. She thanked him politely and began filling her plate as Bilbo finally joined the others. 

“So, you are the one they call Oakenshield,” Beorn started, looking at Thorin as he filled Bilbo’s mug with tea. “Tell me, why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?” 

“You know of Azog?” Thorin asked rather than answering. “How?” 

“My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the Orcs came down from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved.” At that moment Bellarose’s eyes landed on Beorn’s wrists, which still had the remnants of manacles. Her brows furrowed in concern as sympathy filled her. 

“Not for work, you understand, but for sport,” the skin-changer continued. “Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him.”

“There are others like you?” Bilbo asked curiously, earning a nod from Beorn. 

“Once, there were many.”

“And now?” The Hobbit urged hesitantly. A sad look came across Beorn’s face. 

“Now, there is only one,” he answered simply. Everyone stared at him with a mix of sadness and sympathy, though he disregarded it as he continued. 

“You need to reach the mountain before the last days of autumn?"

“Before Durin’s Day falls, yes,” Gandalf nodded. 

“You are running out of time.”

“Which is why we must go through Mirkwood.” 

“A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees,” Beorn retorted grimly, shaking his head. “There is an alliance between the Orcs of Moria and the Necromancer in Dol Guldur. I would not venture there except in great need.”

“We will take the Elven Road. That path is still safe,” Gandalf reassured him, though Beorn still scoffed at the word. 

“Safe? The Wood-Elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They’re less wise and more dangerous. But it matters not.” Thorin’s brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What do you mean?”

“These lands are crawling with Orcs,” Beorn explained. “Their numbers are growing, and you are on foot. You will never reach the forest alive.” His answer left the table shocked, though no one was more shocked than Thorin. 

“I don’t like dwarves. They’re greedy and blind, blind to the lives of those they deem lesser than their own,” he started as he rounded the table. He stopped beside Bofur, who’d just pushed a scampering mouse away from him like it was diseased, and carefully picked it up. He held it gently in his hand as he approached Thorin, who stood beside the table with his arms crossed. 

“But Orcs I hate more,” he concluded, which made Bellarose smile in relief. “What do you need?”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

TCATC Chap. 12; Rest and family ties

*Author’s note*

WHEW!! Okay this is the last update for today, and also the end of AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY section of this story. Next time we’ll get into the Desolation of Smaug plotline. And just a heads up, there is some MAJOR changes in that section in regards to a certain romance between a dwarf prince and an She-elf of Mirkwood.  I’ll explain more whenever I get started with posting the DOS section of this story. Until then, enjoy all these chapters my lovelies and until next time :)

Also for anyone who gets the little reference with the rematch scene between Hela, Fili and Kili, you’ll get a request on me! 

NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@peter-parkers-cullen-nerd

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

___________________________________________________________

After scaling down the Ford of Carrock and entering the woodland we all decided that it was best to take a rest, not only to recover our strength from the previous day’s events, but also so that Oin could heal up Thorin’s injuries and I could continue to rest up my Celestial energy.

I was resting up against a tree feeling my legs starting to tingle beyond belief as I was starting to get the feeling back in them.

“Here Hela, to help get your strength back up.” Bilbo said as he came up to me with a bowl of stew.  I smiled at the hobbit and thanked him softly. “Is there anything else I can get for you? Extra blanket? Tea?”

“There’s no need to fuss over me Bilbo. I’ll be fine with some food and plenty of rest.”

“I know. It’s just—” he looked down sadly, his large hairy hobbit foot lightly kicking at some of the grass solemnly.  I tilted my head at him and set my bowl down before lifting his chin to look at me.

“Speak your mind Bilbo.”

“I…..” he took a sharp breath trying to gather his thoughts. “Just seeing you put yourself through that much strain, just to keep us safe. Even at the expense of your own life…..”

“It is the sole duty of the Celestials. Trust me I’ve seen many of my siblings be put through worse than what I got. A bloody nose and a splitting headache is nothing compared to what Thena once did for Beren and Lúthien. She believed in Beren’s quest for love so much, she willingly followed him into the depths of Morgoth’s dungeons to help him steal the Silmarils.”

“Wow. She—really did all that?”

“Oh yeah. She may deny it but—Thena was quite the romantic in her younger age.”

“Well….I still hope there won’t come a time when you’ll use up so much of your energy that you—because I don’t know what I would do if you ever…..” ohh sweet, sweet Bilbo.  I smiled and gently stroked his cheek with my thumb.

“I’ll try and not overuse my powers for you Bilbo. But I also know that if I have to, I can rely on someone to watch my back.”

“Yeah, the dwarves definitely know how to do that.”

“I was referring to you.” He gawked at me for a second before I continued, “I saw what you did Bilbo. You may not call yourself a warrior or a hero but to me, and the rest of the Company, you are. You saved Thorin’s life when I could not. I would’ve been forced to choose one or the other and live with that guilt for the rest of my life. And yes though you must’ve been terrified, you still faced it and you killed that orc before it could kill Thorin. Not to mention you went up against the Azog and his blood-thirsty warg without a moment’s hesitation.”

“Even though I did what I did, I must’ve looked foolish doing it. I don’t have the fancy moves like you do, or the strength of the dwarves.”

“True. But you do have the stealth. Not a single one of those orcs even saw you coming. And I’ll even make you a deal, once I’m rested up I’ll give you some of the basic lessons in sword play, deal?” he looked at me, debating in his head before saying.

“Deal.”  I smiled and pulled him into a hug and kissed the top of his head.  After that he left me to finish off my stew and to get some rest.

Once I had a full stomach I adjusted myself as best I could against the tree and shut my eyes before falling into a dreamless sleep.

It was dreamless at first until I started seeing flashes of my past.  Of my siblings, Ajak, and the War with the Deviants.  I saw us in the very spot where they made their last stand.

A flash of Celestial magic being poured in all at once to form a giant crystal gem.  Ajak holding the gem out to me and her voice telling me.

‘Save us all Hela.’ And then watching them turn to stone. Another flash of light exploded and soon I saw another war going on, however it was a war I had not yet seen. An army of Elves, Dwarves, Men, Orcs, and goblins fighting along the doors of Erebor and the ruins of Dale. Sword clashing, dead bodies as far as the eye could see of all races, children and women screaming for help.

Then I saw Azog holding Fili by the back of the neck as he spoke.

‘This one dies first, then the brother. Then you Oakenshield…..’

‘Go……RUN!!!’ Fili cried out before being stabbed in the back by Azog’s spear-arm.

Next I saw Kili facing up against another Gundabad Orc, this time it was Bolg, spawn of Azog.  Bolg had him pinned by the throat and his back against Bolg’s leg before he was stabbed in the stomach by the handle of Bolg’s mace.  He turned to look at me, a peaceful look in his eyes as he drew his last breath.

Finally the last thing that came before me was a huge wall of fire.  It’s blazing heat burning every part of my skin as I was bound and powerless against it before a large figure stood before me.

‘Your power shall soon be mine. Your body mine to command, and Middle-Earth shall once again be under thy reign.’ The shadow morphed and soon I saw the familiar spiked helmet and the blazing fire-colored eyes from within.

I woke up with a gasp and panting heavily.  I looked around to see that it was already nightfall, in fact a few or maybe even several hours into nightfall.  I turned to see most of the company was sound asleep minus Gandalf who was taking the night watch and smoking his pipe.

He turned to look at me and through his eyes I could see that he was concerned.  I looked away from him and tried to see if I could stand up and walk around some. Slowly I stood up but my legs were so numb that I kept stumbling around like a newborn foal.

I turned to Gandalf again and signed to him in my Celestial sign language that I was fine, just needed to get my muscles working again. I kept feeling the pins and picks from my feet all the way up to my thighs but I pushed on and tried to walk forward.

I didn’t go far but just far enough to where I could have some peace of mind about the dream I had.  I looked up to the stars and softly said.

“Ajak……I know you won’t hear this but I have to know. It’s always been on my mind since that day. Why did you choose me? Out of all your children why did you choose me? Sure I am a born fighter but I am nowhere near as close to the fighting skill that Thena and Gilgamesh were born with. Nor as strong as Ikaris and Cersei. I can barely hold out the full strength of their powers without draining my energy. And because of that I—I nearly lost someone that I vowed to protect last night. I—I wish that you all had died that day, that way at least I could speak to your spirits whenever I feel lost or alone.”

“Hela.” I turned around and saw Fili and Kili coming up towards me.

“My brother Ikaris once told me that the stars not only represent the spirits of departed Elves, but also fallen Celestials.” I said to them as they sat on either side of me.

“So you were seeking council with those that passed long before your time?” asked Fili.  I sighed solemnly and said as I looked back up at the stars.

“More like indulging in the delusion of trying to seek comfort with the Celestial Prime herself. But I know she’ll never respond to my prayers. I was there when she too turned to shadow and stone. Along with the rest of my siblings of the High council.”

“Is that what you dreamed of?” Kili asked me.  “We heard you moaning and calling out their names in your sleep. We wanted to wake you but Gandalf advised us not to.”

“He is indeed wise to have warned you. Last time he tried to stir me from a nightmare, I gave him quite the black eye.” I softly chuckled at the memory.  “There were—other things as well.”

“Like what?” Fili asked as he leaned in closer to me.

“I have not the heart to tell you both. For I fear it may be what the future holds.” They didn’t further question me about my dream which I was thankful for.

“Hela, we—never got to fully express our gratitude for what you did for us back on the Misty Mountains.” Fili said.  “What Bilbo had said to you about you willing to use all your energy just to protect us….no one outside of our family has ever done that for us.”

“I had told him it was because of my duty as a Celestial to protect all of you since I pledged myself to your quest. But—truthfully it’s more than that.” I looked to them brushing the strands of hair out of their faces, “Throughout this quest I have grown very fond of each and every one of you. Not just as friends but—family. Especially after what you all did for me back in Rivendell. Willing to take part in a Celestial’s Mid-Summer events and traditions. I never thought I’d get to celebrate more than one day of Celestial midsummer again.”

“We’ve grown fond of you too Hela. In fact……Fili and I wish to give you something.” The youngest Durin son said to me.

“What is it?”

“First, may we have your permission to touch your hair?” Fili asked me.  I stroked the white streak on the right side of my face and nodded.  Fili then took a few strands from the left side of my head whilst Kili took the right.

Even with their big, calloused hands that have wielded swords, fired arrows, possibly even forged steel they were extremely gentle. Stroking out three individual strands of hair before proceeding to braid it.  I stood as still as I could while they worked before they both finished it off by placing a bead in my hair.  They stood in front of me and I felt on either side of my head a braid.

“In Dwarvish customs; a braid can mean a multitude of things. A courtship, a promise, or a proud symbol between family members. And nothing is more sacred to us dwarves than family. And……if you’ll have us. Kili and I would be honored to have you as our older sister.”

My heart skipped a beat and my eyes softly widened.  Only by one other person have I been considered to be part of his family but it was more of a Guardianship over his children (which I happily agreed to be), but never before has someone considered me as a sibling in so long.  Much less an older sister.

Tears filled my eyes as I immediately embraced them both in my arms.

“I would like nothing more. My little brothers.” I said in my Celestial language.  I separated from them but cupped their cheeks in my hands.  “I hope you understand that from here on out, I shall be fretting over every reckless thing you both do.”

“We wouldn’t have it any other way, namad.” Kili said with that cheeky smile of his.  From my lessons I knew that word had meant sister.

I shook my heads at them before bringing them close to me so that I could kiss their brows before gently pressing my forehead against theirs.  A sign of affection between dwarves.  Feeling my lip tremble at the mere thought that I was finally a big sister once more, it was like Sprite had guided them to me giving me a second chance.

As payback for their sign of accepting me as their namad, I gifted to them their own braids from me.  Taking two small pebbles I found on the ground I used just a little bit of Cersei’s magic to transform them to stone braids so that I could tie it to their braids.

“We wanted you to recover, not keep wasting your energy.” Fili lectured me.

“Turning pebbles into braids takes little effort. And I thought I was supposed to worry about you two.”

“Fretting siblings works both ways whether older or younger.” Fili said to me as I finished with his braid and moved onto Kili’s, brushing through it to get the three strands I needed to make his braid.

“I suppose your right. My siblings and I were always fretting over one another. Especially Ikaris. He was always too prideful at times, nearly got himself killed more than once. Scared me to no end. I think that’s what caused these white streaks in my hair.” I joked making the two of them laugh.  “There, all done.” I said as I finished tying off Kili’s braid with his pebble braid.

We then decided to head back to the camp to get some rest since dawn would soon be upon us.  We walked back and I got myself comfortable back up against my tree, however this time Fili and Kili came up and lay on either side of me.

I smiled softly as Kili took up my blanket and covered the three of us up with it.  I wrapped my arms around each of them bringing them closer to me for warmth.

“Goodnight Hela.” Fili said to me.

“Goodnight Fili.” I said with a warm smile.

“Sweet sleep Hela.” Kili said to me.

“Sweet sleep Kili.” And without any hesitation, the three of us fell asleep cuddled up close to each other.

The next morning I woke up feeling a little stronger than before. My energy wasn’t at full strength but I could feel that the tingles in my legs were no longer there and my headache had greatly lessened than it was yesterday.  I looked down to see Fili and Kili were still asleep cuddled up close to me.

“They really have grown fond of you.” Bofur said as he came up to us.  I looked up at him before looking down at the young princes.

“And I them.” I stroked through the braids that I made for them last night.

“And I can see that you each did a Family braid for each other.” I lifted my right hand and stroked Kili’s braid that he made for me.

“Hope it doesn’t offend you that two dwarves would give a family courted braid on someone other than a Dwarf.”

“On the contrary lass, if anyone outside of being a dwarf deserves a braid like that it’s you. Everything we said to you back in Rivendell was true. You really have become like family to us, and we’re honored to extend our hands to you as an honorary Dwarrowdam. Without the beard or height.” We both softly chuckled.

“Thank you Bofur. Say, you wouldn’t happen to know if Bilbo is awake yet do you?”

“He is. The hobbit is currently trying to fit in his second breakfast along with his first.” I smiled softly.

“Oh poor lad. I fear we may have starved him. He hasn’t been able to keep to his feeding schedule since we rested in Rivendell.” I got out from the boy’s grip so that they could continue to rest up.

“Gonna give him some lessons?” Bofur asked me.  “I might have overheard you saying you were going to give Bilbo some lessons on swordplay.”

“Indeed I was.”

“You sure you’re up for it lass? Not to question your skills but—Gandalf did say you burnt up nearly all of your energy trying to keep the tree stable.”

“I appreciate your concern Bofur but I am feeling better. At least better than I was yesterday.”

“Well just know that if you need any help, not only will the lads help you out but I’m willing to give my knowledge of fighting to Bilbo as well.” I nodded to him then walked over to where some of the company were already awake while others were still sleeping.

Oin was checking on Thorin’s bite wounds from Azog’s warg, Dwalin and Balin were standing a few feet away keeping a watch out for Azog or his scouts, Bifur was fiddling with what looked like a child’s toy of an eagle music box, Ori was sketching something in his book and Glóin was looking down at a locket of some sort.

“Aye good morning Hela lass.” Glóin greeted me.  The others looked up and greeted me with a good morning.

“Good morning gentlemen, how are you feeling Thorin?”

“Mahal blessed me with no infection from the bite wounds, thanks to Oin.” He told me.  “How do you fair?”

“I’d say with her being able to stand up on her own is a good sign.” Oin answered for Thorin.

“Yes. Although my head still feels like someone is forging iron onto my brain.” I said as I rubbed my temple.

“I’ll see what I can do about that. No sense in you wasting anymore of your Celestial energy when you nearly came back to us near death.” Oin advised.

“Well they don’t call me the Celestial of Death for nothing.” I shrugged.  I walked over to the fireplace and managed to scrounge up some leftover sausages, eggs and pork before walking over to Glóin and Ori. “You both don’t mind me sitting here do you?”

“Not at all lass.” Glóin bowed his head gesturing to the empty spot between him and Ori.  Ori also shook his head and gave me a friendly smile as he scooted over to make more room for me.  I sat between them and I asked Glóin.

“Is that a family locket?”

“Aye. I keep this personally close to my heart. The family I had to leave back home in the Blue Mountains to go on this quest.”

“Uhh, I know this maybe pushing but—may I…..” Glóin looked at me skeptically but he accepted and handed me his locket and inside were two different pictures.  

On the left side was a dwarf with a bun tied at the corners of his head and what looked like a goatee beard, and to the right was a younger version og Glóin holding a small axe.

“Is this one your son?” I asked pointing to the one on the right. Glóin nodded.

“Aye, my wee lad Gimli. He desperately wanted to come along with me but he’s still too young for such a quest.”

“He looks just like you.” I said with a soft smile.

“People have said the same thing.” Glóin praised with a nod.

“And who is this to the left?”

“That would be my wife.” My eyes widened as I did a double take at the picture.

“Dwarf women also have beards too?”

“Aye they do.”

“Wow. So then—how do you tell apart the men from the women?” I asked.

“It can be tricky especially to those who aren’t dwarves. For dwarf women have not only the same appearance but also the same voice range as dwarf men. But I knew from the moment I saw her, she was my One.”

“She sounds lovely.” I said as I handed him back his locket.

“She is. Though when I first met her, she didn’t make it easy for me to court her.” Glóin chuckled as he put it right back into the pocket just over his heart.

“What of you Miss Hela? Did you ever have your One?” Ori asked me.  

I turned to the young dwarf and secretly rubbed the underpart of my left gauntlet where I kept Haldir’s courting gift to me.

“It’s……it’s complicated, at the moment. But I still love him.”

“Was he a Celestial too?” he asked solemnly, fearing his question had caused me heartache.

“No. No he wasn’t a Celestial. We all just see each other as siblings even if we don’t belong to the same Celestial class or Age.”

“Is he from the world of Men? We’ve read how you’ve fought alongside great heroes from the World of Men.”

“No he is not from the World of Men. I’ve only come to see Men as either brothers in arms or dearest friends.” I thought fondly of all my great friends throughout the Ages, one especially I knew we would probably come across since our path lies just shortly beyond his home.

To quickly change the subject about my courting life I turned to Ori and asked him.

“You know Ori, from the moment I first met you I’ve always seen you writing in that book. Are you planning to become an author of sorts?”

“Not really no. But I do like to keep what I’ve written down in my journals or books. That is the sole duty of a Scribe. My father taught me how to keep my records straight and how to draw. Whatever we come across throughout this quest; I’ve chosen this book to keep it all in. Mostly for my sake so that one day when I’m older, I can open this book and remember it all. The good, the bad, the pain and the joys we had in reclaiming our homeland.”

“May I be permitted to have a look?” he nodded and handed me his book.  I opened it up and was greeted with a whirlwind of words and beautiful pictures. Pressed flowers and plants, and even small poems.  Soon I came across a drawing that he did of my gauntlets.  “Ori, did you really draw this?” I showed him the picture of my gauntlets.

They were beautifully drawn, down to the last bit of detail in the worn out faint scratches, buffers, and gem pieces as well as the remaining sockets of the three gem pieces I needed (at the time).

“Yes. I drew it when you were telling us your story about them and how you found each gem piece out of various objects. If you don’t wish for me to keep it I can tear it out.”

“It would be a shame if you did. It’s beautifully drawn Ori. Keep it in, for me.” He nodded as I looked through more pages of his work. He truly was a beautiful scriber the way his words flowed like a boat on a gentle current, and would change gradually depending on the story he was telling.  From the orc chase through the Hidden Valley to our stay in Rivendell, their travels through the Misty mountains and the goblin town fight, even our last encounter with Azog and the Great Eagles coming to save us.

After I finished looking through his book I handed it back to him and I continued to eat my breakfast.  Once I was done, I stood up and bid them a good day as I went on to find Bilbo.  I found him and Gandalf sitting together conversing quietly together.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” They looked up at me and Gandalf said.

“Oh not at all my dear Hela. Bilbo and I were just recalling old memories from my visits to the Shire during Midsummer’s Eve.” Gandalf said.

“I see, well I hope you don’t mind if I steal our burglar for a little while. I promised him a light training session once I was feeling up to it.”

“Ahh well then. I shall leave you two to it then. Bilbo my lad, there is no one better to teach you to fight than Hela herself.” Gandalf stood up and walked off.  I extended my hand to Bilbo and he took mine and I helped him up.  I placed my arm around his shoulders and guided him to a clear opening where we could train in peace.

I held Aeglos in my hand twirling it around while Bilbo held his small sword.

“Don’t you think it’s unfair for you to use a spear while I have my sword?”

“Unfortunately Bilbo that won’t matter to your enemies. They’ll have many different weapons and you can’t ask them to use a weapon that’ll match your sword. Besides it’s a good sword, I’ve seen what it can do.”

“Balin says it’s hardly a sword. Could be more of a letter opener.” He muttered gesturing to it.

“Lesson #1. A sword is a sword, no matter the size. Just like warriors. Long ago when the Dwarves first came about, people doubted their fighting abilities because of their height. That just because they were short, they couldn’t handle a real weapon like the Elves and Celestials can. Called them imps and fairies.”

“They must’ve felt pretty bad once they saw what Dwarves could really do.”

“Oh they did. Dwarves fight with such ferocity and rawness it’s like seeing a wild animal go rabid. But it was a controlled rabidness. The point is Bilbo, never judge things by their appearances, that includes you.” I walked over to him and held out Aeglos between the two of us.  “Now then Master Baggins, are you ready to begin your lesson?”

“I’m prepared to learn with an open mind and a willing heart to learn, Master Hela.” I softly smirked at him before taking Aeglos back.

“Now the first thing is your stance. Keep your feet firmly on the ground and always face your opponent with your dominant profile, never with your full body.”

“Question; why can’t I face them fully head on?”

“Just because you can wield a sword, doesn’t mean you’re a master with it. Especially if it’s your first time wielding one. Orcs smell fear and doubt, and yes while you stood strong and firm against Azog, he could smell as well as see your inexperience with a blade, especially with the way you were holding it. Never use both hands unless you absolutely have to. That always shows signs of one’s inexperience with a weapon in actual combat.”

Nodding Bilbo took his sword in his dominant hand (his right) and stood with his right profile showing.

“Turn your head to fully face me. Eye contact is everything in battle, if you look away even once from your opponent your as dead as a doornail.” He adjusted his head and his eyes narrowed right at me.  I walked over to him and slightly turned his upper body outward so that it would feel more comfortable for him to properly stare me down.

I walked back over and twirled Aeglos and said to him.

“Now then we’ll be going over the basics first. Blocking is just as important as attacking but you have to know the exact points, height and degree in which to hold your sword to protect yourself. I saw how you managed to block one attack from an orc’s curved blade, however it won’t always work for a longer sword or a spear like Aeglos.”

“Blocking is as important as attacking.” He nodded and repeated to himself.

“It’s always best to remember them by numbers. The basic blocking numbers are 2, 1, 5. Two is when your sword points downward at an angle. 1 is crossing the blades together crossed together like an X. And 5 with your hand to your forehead at a slight horizontal degree. We’ll start off slow.”

I took Aeglos and walked just far enough so that only the blade would cross Bilbo’s personal bubble (for now).  I swung downward and Bilbo did Block 2.  I could feel that his grip wasn’t as firm as I wanted it to be.

“Again. Slightly firmer grip on your blade. You don’t want your blade to go free from your grip. But you don’t want to grip too tight that you blister yourself forcing you to lessen your grip.” He nodded and adjusted his grip taking a quick exhale.  “Two.” I said as I swung Aeglos’ blade which crossed Bilbo’s.  “Good.”

He smiled and I told him.

“Now do Block #1.” I adjusted Aeglos a little higher and Bilbo blocked my blade with his at the proper angle.  “Excellent. Now do them both together.” I circled around him before swinging Aeglos down below which he blocked with Block #2 and then I immediately attacked him overhand which he blocked with Block #1.  “Good. Now to make things a bit more interesting. Block 1 can be used in a triangle like fashion when it comes to blocks.”

“What does that mean?” he asked me as we lowered our weapons.

“When someone attacks you overhanded, you can use Block 1 for a number of positions and blocks. While being used at different points on where you need to block, the wielding position is always the same. So like a triangle steadily going upward, two for the bottom and one at top for the point.”

Slowly I showed him how to do it with Aeglos alone before telling Bilbo to cross our blade together.

“Nice and slow, good. Good!” Two at the bottom, one for the top, two-to-one.  “That is good Bilbo.”

“Thank you.”

“Faster.” I stomped at him as I swung my blade down and he did Block 2.  Circling around him like a dance we did block 1 in the triangle fashion.  I would walk towards him then he would walk towards me. I surprised him with an attack overhand which he blocked with Block #5.  His blade steady and gleaming in the sunlight, the blade slightly tilted upward at the height of his forehead just like I showed him.  “You sure you’re not pulling my leg about not having done this before you joined this quest?”

 Bilbo merely shrugged as he let out a small chuckle. A soft smirk came across my face as we separated from each other.

“Seems she’s favored a new pupil.” Fili’s voice rang out. Bilbo and I turned and I sassed back at the eldest Prince.

“Now remind me again gentlemen just how long did you both last against me in the duel back in Rivendell?”

“We let you beat us that quickly.” Kili said.  I scoffed out a laugh.

“Well then how about a little rematch then? Winner takes all?”

“You’re on!” they both said to me.  I allowed Bilbo to take a rest for training for now.  

Fili and Kili came up to me and withdrew their swords while I spun Aeglos in my hand.  Fili came in front of me while Kili stalked behind me, the two of them surrounding me like two wolves to a kill.  Kili made the first strike but I blocked him with Aeglos’ staff right as Fili came in for the second attack.

I flipped over him and swung Aeglos’ blade towards Fili who blocked it with his sword.  Our blades slowly sliding against one another’s when suddenly I was attacked from the side.  Not by any weapon but a body tackling me down, followed by another.  From the tuff blonde mane and shaggy dark brown hair I knew that Fili and Kili had me pinned.

“For Erebor!” Fili exclaimed.

“Hold her! Hold her down Fili!” Kili laughed which in turn made me laugh.

“Oh by the gods I’ve been bested! I yield! I yield please spare me oh Sons of Durin!” I pleaded in an overdramatic tone.  From his seat, I saw Bilbo grinning at the three of us.

“As well as it is glad to see our Celestial walking and able to train our Hobbit, I think it would be wise to not damage her any further just to be safe.” Fili, Kili and I stopped as we looked up to see Gandalf and Thorin standing together.

“Oh it’s just a bit of fun Gandalf.” I assured him as I ruffled both dwarves heads before they got off of me and helped me stand up.

“We plan to leave by mid-afternoon. If we want as much distance as we can from the orcs we best not delay any more than we can.”  The four of us looked at each other and agreed. We rejoined the others and helped pack up the camp as well as making sure to leave as little trace of us being there as possible.

Which meant dousing the fires, collecting the empty dishes and cups, and I even used just a slimmer of Cersei’s magic to make the earth even again of grass and flowers (since orcs and wargs can’t smell or sense Celestial Magic).

Some of them were worried about me using my magic (Fili, Kili, Bilbo, Oin, Balin, Bofur, Ori and even Thorin) but I assured them that to ease the grass and raise the flowers didn’t take much out of me.  And with that we proceeded onward to continue our quest.

[maggyme13]

Why Licking?(15/?)

AN:Hello again :) I was so thrilled by your comments that ai was able to write another chapter. Thrilled to know what the dwarfs were planing?

Wordcount: around 2400

Warnings: the usual

Why Licking-Masterlist

Masterlist

Part 14

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The door vibrated under the heavy knocks.

This took longer than I thought it would. Almost three hours.

“A moment please.”, you called out to take a last look around your little home. Heaving a last sigh you finally opened the door to face – one single dwarf. Again.

He was tall for a dwarf, and burly. His head bald with tattoos and beard short but impressive. On his back, two heavy looking battle-axes rested on is back and metal plates covered his knuckles.

“Dwalin, at yer service. King Thorin sends me. He is waiting for you in Erebor.”, Dwalin´s words held authority and no room for arguments.

“I thought that much. But I have to inform you, that my eyesight is not as good as it once were. Especially with the changing lights now that it is late.”, you nodded, taking your coat and pulling it around your neck.

“There is a carriage waiting.”, he stated, flexing his shoulders. Though it looked like a habit of his and not a tactic of intimidation.

“I will follow you then. Please lead the way Master Dwarf.”

“Good.”

You did as you had promised, and when you turned a corner in the road a goat drawn carriage was waiting for your companion and yourself.

Half an hour later, you believed you saw the gates of the great mountain appear in the dark.

Arriving at the gate, warriors saluted the two of you.

“The king is waiting in the throne room.”, a white haired dwarf stated.

“Thank you brother.”

“Miss, my name is Balin. I am the kings advisor and will be escorting you to him. Please follow me and my brother. And if you need anything, please let me know.”

“Will do.”, you frowned.

Why are they this polite? They know who I am. What is going on?

The two dwarfs lead you through the huge halls that had been carved into the mountain by skilled masons.

Entering the throne-room, you at once noticed the young dwarf you had met that fateful day. The prince and your reason for being here.

“Is that her?”, a deep timber voice asked and the blond dwarf nodded.

“Yes, Uncle. That is her.”, the prince answered, “Tabrok?”

“Yes, King Thorin. That is the one they call Mabrotnosh.”, now you saw the ex-slave standing next to the King.

“Dwalin?”, he asked an unspoken question.

“She did not resist, and followed every order.”, he sounded almost surprised.

Every single pair of eyes was concentrated on you.

“Why am I here?”, you finally asked, “If you wanted me dead you would not have treated my as good as you did.”

“Why do you think we want to see you dead?”, this time it was the blond prince asking and you answered.

“Of all these dwarfs present, you and Tabrok(?), should know best why I think that.”

“And that is exactly the reason why you are here.”, it was the king. “You saved my nephew and were nearly killed in the process. I want you to thank you for this. But you are right, this is not he only reason why you are here. It was the reason how found you though. Bring him in!”.

The last part was a direct order and not long after the sound of many armored boots echoed through the hall.

Turning around towards the sounds, you noticed thirty dwarfs that surrounded a much larger figure walking towards you.

An Orc.

Dressed in leather armor and wearing a warg- skin on its head.

“Drago.”, you breathed in confusion and wonder, “What-”

“He surrendered earlier this morning close to the boarder of our territory. He was bearing a message.”

“A message?”

“Yes, a message regarding your person.”

“I don´t understand.”

“You see, we were awaiting the arrival of a large caravan of our people migrating to our new home. They were intercepted in a small canyon by a band of orcs. Five hundred lives. Woman, children and men are in the hands of those orcs. The orc you see over there was bearing a message. If we want so see our folk again we have to return their own. Their Queen for the lives of our people. A queen no one knew about. A queen no one had even heard about. You must understand the dilemma we faced. They want us to return something we did not even know we have.“, the advisor continued for the king.

In the meantime Drago and his guards had stopped close enough for you to see his red eyes. Your guard growled, his throat and chest visibly vibrating, in anger or threat you did not know.

“Mabrotnosh. I am sorry that I could not protect you from harm as I had sworn.”, he bowed his head, “But I will make it up to you. I came to bring you home.”

“They said you have taken hostages. Is that true?”, you asked.

“Yes. My orcs are in charge under Ska´al´s command. They are ordered to not harm anyone until your save return.”

“Who gave the order?”, you breathed, needing to know if Azog was still alive, or who now was ruling over your fate, “Was it Azog, or maybe Bolg?”

“You are our Queen.”, was the only answer he gave.

“What if I do not want to go back? Not after what happened to me?”, you demanded to know, the question meant for both dwarf and orc.

The prince was the first to answer. “Then we will have to fight to free our people. Many will die. Many will suffer. My brother and I might lose our mother.”

“Nothing will happen to you, ze Mabrotnosh. We can arrange for you to stay in different quarters. You chose who gets close to you”

You were able to hear the hidden plea in his voice and thought about thinking to return to the mountain.

If you don´t, then hundreds of lives were in danger. Their blood would be on your hands.

Without saying a word, or thinking, you turned around and walked the same way back from once you had come. Well, you tried as well as it worked with your blinded eye. Footsteps followed you, multiple dozens, and you heard someone shout after you.

But you ignored it, only coming to a stop a hundred meters away from the main gate and whistled. One loud high-pitched whistle.

It did not take long for a shadow to close in on you. A shadow on four legs. A shadow with ice blue eyes and sharp teeth.

“Unless you want me to walk all the way to the exchange, I do not recommend shooting or hurting him in any way or form.”, you declared, staring the closest dwarf down that had drawn his weapon.

“Hello Akul. I knew you had stayed close.”, you hummed into the black fur of your warg, “And you have become so big in just five months.”

“Is that your decision?”, King Thorin asked one last time.

“What is one life in exchange for hundreds? Mine was over the day my village was  raided.” It was more than a statement than an answer.

“So be it. Dwalin, you know what to do. Bring back our people.”, he ordered and within twenty minutes one hundred dwarfs were mounted on war- goats and ready to ride alongside Drago and you.

-..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..

Close after midday of the second day, the camp that held the hostages came in sight at the horizon.

“We will return to our people, than yours can return to you.”, Drago declared and with no way of arguing or demanding another way, the dwarfs accepted.

That was how you rode alongside your guard into the camp, where every single eye was on you.

“Drago, give the order to let them go unharmed. And then let us leave.”, you ordered and he nodded.

“Get ready to depart! Leave the Dwarfs unharmed. We ride to Moria.”

The two of you stopped in the center of the area, when a dwarrowdam caught your attention. She was clutching her side and looked scared.

“What happened to her?”, you asked no one in particular.

“An orc happened, what do you think?”, another dwarrowdam laughed dryly. She looked an awful lot like the king.

“Which orc did it?”

“Blue skin and white markings.”, she answered with a bit of wonder in her eyes.

“Find him and bring him here.” you ordered and five orcs scurried into every direction. It did not take long for them to find three Orcs fitting the description the dwarrow had given you.

“Who of you hurt the female?”, you demanded to know, “Answer me. It was ordered to not hurt them and yet someone did. That order was given in my absence but in my name. So who of you did go against it?”

The orc in the center and the one on the right looked buffed, it was obvious to you that it wasn´t them. The third one behaved like a little child or dog, he looked everywhere but at you.

“You two,”, you motioned at the two innocent ones, “can return to whatever you were doing. You”, pointing at the third orc,” will answer my question now. Tell me the truth and no harm will come by you from any orc or dwarf. And if I don´t like the answer, you will be banished from the orcs of Moria.”

Dammit, when they want me to be their queen, I can behave like one and use my powers to save others, and maybe change the way the orcs behave.

“Now tell me: did you attack the female, and why did you do it?”

“I wanted to have her, but she refused.”, he sneered and the fierce looking dwarrow clutched her fists.

“Understood. As you can belief, I do not like that answer. Because you behaved unprovoked. If she had tried to kill you and you were merely protecting yourself. I would have understood. But like this. Leave this camp at once. Do not look back. If any Orc sees you from now on, he will be allowed to kill you and will not be punished for it.”

The orc snarled at you, showing his sharp teeth and almost white eyes. He tried to intimidate you into rethinking you judgment, but an even deeper growl from both Drago and Akul had him whimper in submission.

“Mabrotnosh.”, he nodded before standing up and turning towards the trees.

“You let him leave without any harsh punishment? How dare you to speak like this for us dwarfs?”, the king´s twin fumed, “letting him go with the promise that no harm will come at him. He will continue his dark thoughts. He will be looking for his next target.”

“You did not listen. I exclaimed that no DWARF or ORC will be causing him harm. I said nothing about the wargs. Sometimes, predators should know how pray feels like. Don´t you think? Drago, I believe your Wargs have not been hunting for weeks now, am I right? Give him another half an hour, then send them out with one of your riders . Make sure to bring me back his head.”

“My Mabrotnosh.”, he smirked, giving the order to one orc you knew to be Nasck.

“There is a little army send by your King waiting a few leagues down that way. You are free to go and join them. Once the Wargs have returned we will be leaving for Moria. It is your choice when to leave to your blood.”

“Who are you?”, the dark haired dwarrow finally asked the question that was plaguing her mind since the first second she had seen you.

“I am (y/n). I was taken from my village by the pale Orc Azog. Everyone else was killed. He took me with him and made me his Mate, his wife it seems. And apparently that also made me the Queen of the orcs of Moria. Most of these orcs you see here, at least the bigger ones of them, have become my personal guard. Apparently they made it their task, to get me back from the life I was given after the battle of the five armies, and took you as hostages to force King Thorin to release me. This is a hostage exchange.”

She looked baffled. “But in the end, you are nothing more than a hostage yourself. One with a lot of power, but still a prisoner or hostage. If you ever need advice or just an ear that listens, send a raven. My name is Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thor, and sister to the foolish king under the Mountain and mother to two sometimes idiotic princes. Should you ever feel the need to relocate your home. You will always be welcomed by me. You gave up your freedom to return ours. Farewell Queen (y/n). May you live long and prosper.”

“Farewell Lady Dis. May I ask you a favor before you go though? Tell your sons to not walk into an enemy fortress alone. Next time, there might me no one to save them like it happened during the battle.”

“THEY DID WHAT? I will tan their hides so long they can´t sit for months. They told me they were taken from the edge of the battlefield. And my doofus of brother …. Thank you for this information.”, now grumbling and muttering, Lady Dis walked over to the injured woman.

“WE WILL BE LEAVING NOW! PACK YOUR THINGS!”, she ordered and within fifteen minutes no Dwarf was in sight anymore.

“I changed my mind. Send out your wargs. And then we will return to Moria.”, you spoke, knowing Drago was standing behind you.

“Nasck will leave at once.”

Growling and snarling went through the camp when the Wargs gathered to hunt, Nasck mounted his warg and the hunt began.

.--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--.

“Nasck has returned.”

“Send the head to the dwarf as a sign that I kept my word.”

“I will Mabrotnosh. What then?”,Ska´al asked.

“Then we will return to Moria.”

“Yes Mabrotnosh. Let´s return home.”

Home. My new home. What ever there will be waiting for me.

Part 16

Permanent:

@jadepc​​ @pacifyhxlsey​​ @thankyoukarenclifford​​

@thankyouforanonymity​​  @punkrockhufflefluff​​

@scarletraine​ @buckycaptspideypool​  @markusstraya​ @graveyard-groupie​ @markusstrayya​   @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil​

@marshyrebelcloud​

Why Licking:

@pekusofixus @silverclawz  @lasswarrior @ @meziah-48 @crappyimagines​

Please reblog with a comment, send me an ask/PM or comment on this fic .

Feedback is always appreciated ;P

~Maggy

[avaria-revallier]

Chapter 1: The Beginning after the End

The smell of iron lingers in the air. Muffled cries of pain and rage are dancing over the battlefield. Salty tears are rolling down her cheeks. Leaving light trails between the blood and dirt on her skin. Holding a familiar person in her arms. With shaking hands she gently brushes a dark strain of hair out of the kings eyes. His breathing is weak.

„Thorin, you damn stubborn dwarf! You can’t die now! Pull yourself together.“ A heavy sobbing shakes the little hobbit.

Azog is dead, so why, why couldn’t Thorin live to celebrate this victory?

Rough fingers brushing over her cheeks, as if they want to wipe away the tears, the sadness.

„Bella, Bell… don’t cry, my dear.“ Thorin looks her in the eyes. A small smile on his lips. He wants to help her ease the pain, make her feel better. He wants to tell her how he feels, now, that he finally is ‚King under the mountain‘ again. Now that he is worthy of this kind little hobbit. Now, that it is to late. Her crying breaks his heart and lets his soul ache.

„You know I am not very good at comforting, amrâlimê.“ With his last strength Thorin sits up and kisses his hobbit. He wouldn’t want to leave her, not like this, not crying.

Absent minded Bellas fingers touch her lips. How long has it been? One year? Two? No, longer, a lot longer. Her eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be. She can’t take long trips anymore and her memories begin to slip away.

„Bella… Belladonna.“ Startled turns the hobbit around.

„Lord Elrond. What can I do for you? Is it time to go already?“ The elve smiles gently down on her. He hasn’t aged one bit in all the time she had spend with him.

„Yes my dear, I believe it is time to go. We are the last ones to board a ship.“

She stares a moment into his eyes, searching for a hint of… of what? With a deep sight she turns back to the window. The boats had already left or where about to leave. The fog over the lake was getting thicker and thicker as time goes by.

Another deep sight left her mouth. Unconsciously her fingers reach up to her lips again to lightly brush over them.

The hobbit rummages through her pockets to hand a heavy letter over to Lord Elrond. In clear black letters the names of Lord Elrond’s twin sons where written on the envelop.

„Give them the letter once you boarded the boat and you are to far from the shore to turn around.

I will miss those two. You of course as well, Lord Elrond. But I have a feeling that this shouldn’t be. Even thought all my traveling and adventures, I still haven‘t found my place. Maybe I never will.“ With a sad smile on her face she stands up, grabs her backpack and leaves. Hoping that he would understand, but knowing she herself didn’t either.

Belladonna Baggins knew she couldn’t go back to the shire. Bag End, the home her father Bungo Baggings build for her mother wasn’t anymore hers, it wasn’t home. Home was somewhere else, somewhere, maybe someone…

Neither could she go to the lonely mountain. To many memories would await her there and only few of them where good. Her fingertips brushes her lips again, before she angrily banishes them into one of her pockets.

Mirkwood wasn’t that pleasant either, so maybe… yeah, why not. Somewhere where she hasn’t been before. Somewhere without memories, with lots of adventures. Somewhere where the earth is still singing.

A shy smile on her face, Sting on her side and a wooden stick in one hand Bella starts wandering to the woods where tree giants, ents, said to be living.

While feeling a familiar joy rising in her heart the smile on her face widens and the stick in her hand starts growing little leafs and flowers. The grass under her feet seems to grow greener and healthier, while the flowers start to bloom and are tilting their heads towards the humming hobbit.

Between two large oaks Bella set camp for the night.

Her trip didn’t took as long as expected. She reached the forest a week earlier. The journey wasn’t much of an adventure either, she didn’t encounter orcs or wargs, nor trolls. Apart from some minor obstacles like wolves and your every day bandits it was a rather pleasant trip.

Leaning with the back on the rough bark of the oak the hobbit looks up into the starry night-sky. Searching through her memories she found what she was looking for. The memory of a similar night. She was on the road for not more than roughly a few month, together with Thorin and his company. They didn’t light a fire, as it was warm enough without. Just like tonight. Bofur had first watch. With a sad smile she remembers how she tossed and turned that evening, until she finally gave up and joined Bofur. He had been smoking his pipe, silently starring into the night. With that ridiculous hat of his, which he never seemed to take of. That night he wasn’t joking around with her. They both had a lot to think about.

As Bella opens her eyes, she could almost see the sleeping dwarves in front of her. Fíli and Kíli, right next to each other, always worried that they would wake up alone. Bifur, muttering in Khuzdul and sometimes kicking at the invisible enemies. Bombur, who seems to eat even in his sleep. Nori and Dori, tucked together with Ori in their middle. Gloin, Oin and Balin right next to an overhang, snoring one louder than the next. Dwalin, not far from Thorin, the weapon always in reach, ready to protect his king and friends. And Thorin, sleeping without a sound, no movement and even frowning in his sleep. Worrying about more than he should. At first the snoring, the movement and muttering had irritated her, but soon she couldn’t find sleep without these familiar sounds. It is one of those memories that would help Bella sleep. Help her to ease the pain in her heart.

With a sight she closes her eyes for a moment. Holding back the tears she lets the image fade away. A growling not far from her left lets her freeze in the very moment. She knows this particular sound. Warc. Slowly her fingers creep over the ground to reach the hilt of Sting. Her eyes are searching the darkness for a sign of danger. Two dim glowing eyes are penetrating her from where the sound came from. Her back against the tree Bella stands up, not breaking eye-contact with the foul creature.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” a voice like metal on stone.

An Orc, uglier than the ones Bella saw before, steps into the moonlight. The blue shining blade in one and her staff in the other hand she eyes the creature.

“No answer? Well, none needed. We had specific orders for whom we are looking for. An old hobbit lass.” A screeching sound echos through the woods. It might have been a laugh.

“With something very special in her possession. A ring. Give it us! Give it!”

Bella is running. Running for her life.

Another arrow misses her just barely, setting the tree in front of her on fire. A howl from behind motivates her to run faster. Smoke stings in her eyes and lungs, making it hard to breathe. Half blind she lets her feelings guide her. The trees all around are screaming in pain. The forest is burning.

With her last strength, she climbs an old tree.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry! This is all my fault. They where right. I am poisonous, always bringing bad luck to all around me.” The words were no more than a whisper, hidden behind heavy sobbing. The tears just wouldn’t stop flowing and the screams got only louder.

For the second time this night Bella freezes, as someone right next to her clears his throat.

“My dear, not all poisons are only used to kill. With the right dose and understanding they can become the best cure.”

With a shocked squeak Bella lets go of the branch she was holding on to. A large hand catches her in the middle of falling and places her gently back on a save spot.

“What is a child of Yavanna doing here in my forest?” wise eyes are looking at her from between the bark, moss and branches.

“My, my name is Belladonna Baggins, Mister Ent. I came here looking for a place to stay, a place filled with life and the grace of our creator. I was hoping to meet an Onodrim like yourself. Sadly all I found where Orcs, Warcs and bad luck. And again I managed to poison the things I love. It is my fault that the forest is burning. I am so very sorry for this, Master Ent. I regret that I ever set foot out of my door. If it wasn’t for me, they all would have lived.”

The ent listens to her, moving slowly out of the raging fire. Bella clings to the bark, heavily sniveling, finally letting all the tears flow, together with the pain, grief and sadness.

A sudden pain in her chest ends the weeping of the hobbit lass. An arrow hit her from behind and all the way through. Disbelief fills her eyes, followed by pain. She tries to scream, but only muffled sound come out. Hard she hits the ground. In a split second the orc archer gets smashed by a giant wooden hand, the warc kicked against a tree. The screaming of the surrounding trees is getting quieter, till it is completely still. The giant face of the ent appears in her field of vision, only a small distance between them. As Bella tries to say something, only a cough and some blood comes out. Pain rages from her chest and back through her body, blurring her vision. The question of the ent she could only hear like he was speaking into a pillow.

“Child, you are blessed by the goddess Yavanna. I will help you, take this chance and change your fated path. In return, I want you to take this with you. I want you to plant the hope of our race.”

Gently he places a small object in her cold hand. She couldn’t really see it, but what does it matter? Again she tries to speak. Another cough makes her spit blood. Her vision goes dark and she can’t hear the last words of the ent. What did he mean, another chance?

‘If I could just see his face one more time, I’ll die a happy death. I am sure. All I want is nothing more but to hear you knocking on my door. I would give it my all to do better next time. All and everything of me.’ She sends her silent prayers to Yavanna.

Strangely the memories of her first encounter with the grey wizard pops into her mind. The picture of a familiar hole forms in her head.

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with paneled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill—The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the hobbit: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (she had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over her garden, and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.

A knocking on the door made her look up from the book she was reading.

A guest? At this hour?

Slowly the small Hobbit stood up to answer the door.

„Dwalin, at your service.“ A dwarf. A dwarf on her doorstep.

A dwarf she knew a long time ago. A dwarf who died in battle, proudly swinging his weapon.

With a blank stare she scanned the dwarf.

‚Oh Yavanna, how cruel of you‘

Another moment the hobbit stood in the half open door, slowly realizing what was happening. In her empty eyes a spark lit up, after a long and cold winter. A single teardrop ran down her cheek, breaking her numbness.

„You are alive?“ She whispered under her breath.

Before Dwalin could react the small hobbit jumped at him, hugging the big warrior and sobbing at his chest.

A dream, it must be a dream. Maybe Yavanna granted her this dream to mend the crack in her heart. And even if it was just an illusion, she would be more than happy just to see them again. But still, for a dream this was kinda real.

Embarrassed she separates herself from the confused dwarf, wiping away the tears.

“Please, do come in, supper is almost ready. Would you be so kind and leave your shoes near the door? What is with the others? Are they all coming?!” Followed by an even more confused dwarf she heads to the dining room, seating him on the long table.

“Please do wait a moment. I will have to empty my whole pantry to feed thirteen dwarves and a wizard. We also have to save some for Thorin, as he will be running late.” Muttering to herself the hobbit lass vanishes in the direction of the pantry, leaving Dwalin behind. Another knock at the door announces the presence of an additional visitor.

“Master Dwalin, would you be so kind to answer the door? I have my hands full.”

Dazed the tattooed dwarf stands up to answer the door. In the meantime Bella sets the table and prepares some dishes that are easy and fast made.

“Evening, brother!” it echoes through the hallway, followed by the sound of two heads banging together. A dwarf with a long white beard enters the dining room and bows.

“Balin, at your service.” He states.

“It is good to see you again, Master Balin. Please bring the remaining food from the pantry here. I will have to answer the door. Fíli and Kíli will help you move the table.” She cleans her hands on a piece of clothes and goes to open the door for the two younger dwarves of the line of Durin.

“Fíli and Kíli, at your service!” both of them look so young.

Bella has to suppress another flood of tears, as she sees these two familiar dwarves. Before she could restrain the reflex, she hugs both tightly.

Hasty she lets go, brushing her hair out of her eyes and wiping the tears away. To stop her voice from cracking she clears her throat.

“You can leave your shoes and weapons here. I will have to excuse myself to look after the supper.” As she hurries towards the kitchen she scolds herself for reacting like this. They might think she is mad, or worse, unsociable.

Dwalin stops the two irritated dwarf lads from shouting questions at their host by assigning some tasks to them. He even answers the door a second time, just to find the eight missing dwarves literally falling inside. Behind them an amused Gandalf.

They are, as she remembered them, loud and not very well mannered. Yet as familiar as her own home. While the dwarves ate and drank, Bella was busy refilling the glasses and pints, restocking the empty plates on the table and keeping an eye on the portion she saved for their leader.

Gandalf watched the hobbit lass for the better part of the evening. She seems to behave strange, offbeat from the day before. Somehow like she became a different person over night.

She didn’t even flinch when they threw the dishes through the halls, only a slight smile on her face. Also she looks like glowing from time to time, nearly magical… Well, maybe he made a mistake.

Gandalf wasn’t the only one watching Bella. Dwalin, Balin and most of the company eyed the hobbit with curiosity and interest. How would she know about them?

They all went quiet as a someone knocked at the door.

There he was. Standing on her doorstep as if this was their first meeting. Broad shoulders that look like carrying the problems of the world. Sharp blue eyes, that pierce through hers, dark hair with some braids. Sadly without the small bells Bella gifted him.

“Gandalf… You said this place was easy to find. I got lost. Twice.” Completely ignoring the host of this home Thorin enters the hobbit hole.

“So this is the hobbit?” His attention shifts to Bella. “Tell me Mistress Baggins, have you done much fighting? Axe or Sword? What is your preferred weapon?”

Bella watches him, unsure how to answer.

“Thought as much, she looks more like a grocer than a burglar. And a lass non the less…”

“If this is a joke, it is of very poor taste!” She angrily stares up to Thorin. The relief and disbelief turns into anger. With her finger she pokes into Thorins chest, ignoring how muscular he is.

“After all we went through? You think you can just cast that aside? Do you have no shame? Do you even know how much I suffered? Just because you were to proud and stubborn to accept help!” With every sentence she pokes him again, urging him to take a step back.

“This wasn’t funny the first time and it won’t be…”

A whispered comment interrupts her angry speech. Bellas burning gaze finds Bofur.

“Oh, so you think I am cute when I am angry? Well, get ready because I’m about to be GORGEOUS!”

The whole company flinches under the angry gaze of the little hobbit. As she turns around she finds Thorin taking another step back.

“The wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” He tries to allay her anger.

The gate broke and the tears are rolling down her face. Her anger has vanished and a sharp pain strikes within her heart. This was no dream, no illusion or trick of her mind. Nor was she in Yavanna’s garden. Something happened to her. It isn’t them who are acting curious, it is her.

“This isn’t possible.” She takes a step towards Thorin. Careful she touches his cheek, looking him doubtful in the eyes, as if he could vanish any moment right before her eyes.

“Y-you are okay?” she gasps quietly, one hand over her mouth.

“How in the world is this possible? By Yavanna, what is going on? No, this is wrong…” unsteady she takes a small step back, then she faints.

Chapter 2

Masterpost

This is the first chapter of my story, what do you think?

[amerrierworld]

Stronger Than Diamonds

Part III of Fiercer than Fire

Pt. 1: x

Pt. 2: x

Summary: Thorin is stubborn, though secretly beginning to crumble under the persuasion of Fili and his comrades. You, however, have no time to worry about his opinion with goblins capturing your friends.

Characters: Fili x fem!reader, Thorin, Company

Word Count: 2,664

Warnings: Goblins

-

You’d lost count of how much you had been sneezing since you had started the hike up the Misty Mountains. Having reluctantly left the blissful haven of Rivendell, you’d been brainstorming options on how best to survive the oncoming storm and encounters you were going to have inside the mountains. Nothing was coming to mind.

Maybe you should’ve stayed behind with Gandalf and joined him as he left Rivendell. But no, you thought, you belonged with the Dwarves. You would see this through to the end, even if it meant facing near death in the mountains.

As you were thinking, your hand gripped Fili’s tighter without realizing and he looked over at you.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly. Your head snapped up and you managed a wry smile at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just worried, is all. Rivendell was such a nice place compared to- well, everything else we’ve encountered so far.”

Fili chuckled in agreement.

“No need to worry, Y/N. You have me by your side, and the others. In case anything happens, we’ll all have your back.”

You smiled and felt someone staring at you. You looked over your shoulder to find Thorin, once again, glaring at the two of you. Your face fell immediately.

“Maybe not all of you,” you mumbled.

-

Thorin was unhappy. As usual. Though he was content with leaving the wretched Elves behind, he hadn’t expected you and his nephew to grow even closer, defying his orders so blatantly and seemingly enjoying it too.

He was marching, brooding and trying to remind himself why you angered him so, and why you were no match for the Durin family.

The two of you chuckled up ahead and the sound made Thorin’s eyes look up, landing on your hand entwined with Fili’s, walking side by side. It made his blood boil.

“Ah, young love. What a wondrous thing, isn’t it laddie?”

Thorin was startled to find Balin next to him, not realizing the white-haird Dwarf had joined him to interrupt his thoughts. He, too, was looking at you and Fili up ahead.

“I do not know of what you speak,” Thorin retorted gruffly. Balin pressed his lips together in a tight line.

“Come, come, now, Thorin, have you ever seen Fili this happy before? Certainly not with any lass like this.”

Thorin furrowed his brows, ready to argue. “Nonsense. Fili’s been perfectly happy with other courtships. This quest has simply got in the way of that. I’m to make sure one of them continues after we’ve taken back our home.”

Balin raised an eyebrow, much like Dwalin had mastered to do. “Name one.”

Thorin blinked in surprise. His mind raced to respond, not letting down so easily.

“There were plenty of potential suitors. The young noble lass from Ered Luin, ginger.”

“Ran off with one of the stableboys more than once, if I recall correctly.”

“They liked each other.”

“But they didn’t love each other, Thorin.”

Thorin frowned at Balin. “That daughter of one of Dis’ friends, then. The seamstress, they got along just fine.”

Balin laughed. “Oh, aye, but only to ogle other pretty ladies together. She was never interested in Fili, my lad.”

Thorin cast his eyes down in thought. Had he really been so blind to all those suitors?

“Look, Thorin. You are meant to take the throne at Erebor when we reclaim it. And if Fili does become King after you, what harm would having Y/N as Queen do?”

“She’s of the race of Men.”

“Yes, but not the race of Men here. She’s been beyond this world, Thorin. Seen things, learned things that we can hardly imagine. Wouldn’t that be an advantage for Erebor at least?”

Thorin hadn’t thought of it that way. He had never thought of you being an asset to the rebuilding and growth of his kingdom, only a hindrance. He was silent for a moment.

“All I’m saying lad, is that you and I have both seen Fili grow up, and he’s still growing into a fine young Dwarf to this day. We both know that there hasn’t been any other lass that’s made him smile so.”

Thorin looked back towards the two of you ahead of him and Balin. You turned your head to meet his gaze and the smile you had for Fili faded instantly. Something in Thorin’s chest felt heavy after the glare you two shared, something like guilt.

He pushed it aside as rain began to fall. He’d worry about it later.

-

“Y/N! Are you alright?”

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?”

“Y/N, wake up! Please.”

“Dwarves, Your Malevolence.”

“Y/N, it’s Fili, please, please wake up. They’ll throw you over or torture you if you don’t.”

“Dwarves?”

“Hm, huh? Fili? My head hurts…”

“We found them on the front porch.”

“It’s me, darling. It’s me, please wake up. Open your eyes.”

“Well, don’t just stand there; search them! Every crack, every crevice.”

Claws were tearing at your skin and pain seared through you. Your eyes flew open and immediately you began fighting back. The stench of goblin filled your senses and you remembered where you were. The blow from falling down from the trap had knocked you unconscious, and blood was dripping down your face. You blinked and shook your head to wake up, struggling against the goblins as they tore off your coat and emptied your pockets.

“What are you doing in these parts? Speak!” The Great Goblin cried out, swinging his staff and staring the Company down.

None said a word, and you wormed your way through all the bodies to stand flush against Fili. His chest was rising rapidly, and your own skin was covered in a cold and terrified sweat. His eyes glanced over to you quickly, and you saw a moment of relief in them, but only briefly.

“Well then, if they will not talk, we’ll make them squawk! Bring out the Mangler! Bring out the Bone Breaker! Start with the youngest.”

He pointed a gnarled finger at Ori, who’s face was one of shock. Nori grabbed his arm and tried to wrestle the army that began grabbing at his younger brother. Thorin stepped forward.

“Wait.”

Everyone halted and turned to him. Thorin took another step forward, blocking Ori and met the Goblin King’s gaze, who looked on in surprise.

“Well, well, well, look who it is. Thorin son of Thrain, son of Thror; King under the Mountain.”

Your eyes were flickering about, stepping even closer to Fili. The goblins were eyeing all of you hungrily. Whether for sport or for a meal, you couldn’t tell.

“Oh, but I’m forgetting, you don’t have a mountain. And you’re not a king. Which makes you nobody, really.” 

“You don’t think goblins like man-meat, do you?” you whispered to Fili, trembling. “I mean, the Trolls were picky about eating you lot, so maybe these won’t wanna eat me.”

“I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A Pale Orc astride a White Warg.”

Fili smirked a little. “I don’t think they’re going to care about what we taste like when they’ve skinned us and hacked us up in pieces, lass.”

You grimaced and nodded weakly.

“Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago,” Thorin was practically spitting the words at the Great Goblin, his hands in fists at his side.

“So you think his defiling days are done, do you?” The Great Goblin chuckled lowly, moving towards a small creepy goblin hanging in a basket. “Send word to the Pale Orc; tell him I have found his prize.”

The tiny messenger goblin was cackling as it left, and your blood ran cold.

“You’ll be pleased to know that your long-term rival is still very much alive,” The Great Goblin snickered. “And your battles against him have meant nothing.”

Thorin visibly sneered and hurled forward as if to attack the giant monstrosity single-handedly.

“Uncle, no!” Fili exclaimed, grabbing Thorin’s arms before he could foolishly attack. You stood close behind him, keeping a hand wrapped around Fili’s upper arm, his presence being the only reassurance to prevent you from going into full panic-mode.

“Uncle, eh?” The Goblin King repeated. “Oh, what a wondrous mistake you’ve made there, King,” he snarled the word, “bringing your own kin into my realm.”

The cackling grew loud around them and echoed in the cave. Your ears hurt from the goblins’ laughter and you held onto Fili firmly. Then, four goblins dashed forward to throw Thorin to the side and seized Fili by a limb each.

The scream that ripped through your chest didn’t sound like it belonged to you, but your throat hurt nonetheless. Fili was struggling, trying to reach for one of his many daggers hidden in his clothes, but the goblins were holding him firmly, tearing through fabric and skin as they hauled him forward.

“So, you’ve managed to have a pathetic little bloodline after all?” The Goblin exclaimed, leaning down a little to examine Fili closely. “Hm, a little thin-looking, but I suppose he’d make a good meal or two for this lot.”

The goblins holding Fili down snickered maniacally. Your face went pale and you tried to reach for him, but Bofur held you back.  They forced him to his knees. One of the larger goblins held up a thick whip with many tails. Cheering ensued around them.

“Whip him til he breaks!” the Goblin screeched. “Make him bleed!”

Your cries mixed with those of the Company, and you managed to worm your way out of Bofur’s grasp as the whip came bearing down.

What happened next was all a blur to you. You were shoving bodies out of the way and hurled yourself over Fili’s crouched figure just as blinding pain coursed through your back. Fili gasped as he felt your body cover your own, turning his torso to catch you protectively.

“What’s this?” The Goblin cried. “A saviour for the pretty little princeling?”

“Y/N, what in Durin’s name are you doing?” Fili whispered raggedly in your ear. The goblin was rearing to slash the whip across your back again and you looked him in the eyes.

“Protecting you,” you whispered back. Your hand trailed over his cheek, damp with sweat, before reaching into his coat and grabbing one of his many hidden daggers.

Before the goblin could strike again, your blade was in his throat and he dropped the whip before the goblins could register what had happened.

“What?” The Goblin King was infuriated as goblins began falling at your hand, your battle skills having improved thanks to the Company’s lessons. “No! Slash them! Beat them! Kill them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!”

Your back was in pain, but adrenalin got the better of you. The Dwarves sprung into action as you began fighting back, grabbing their weapons and attacking the goblin army who were caught off guard.

Then, a blinding light threw all of you down on the floor. You yelled at the pain as you landed on your back, but relief spread through you as you made out Gandalf’s figure approaching the group, staff and Glamdring in hand.

A hand grabbed you by the bicep and hauled you up to your feet. You were surprised to find Thorin getting you up and ushering you down the rickety bridges, following the Wizard as the lot of you sprinted for your lives.

-

Somehow, you were still alive. The blood had become crusty on your back and your head was spinning from flying so high in the air.

You remembered vaguely what had happened after Goblin town. Bilbo had come back, you all rejoiced at the sight. But Azog sent you all running up into the trees. Fili had held onto you like a lifeline as your loss of blood began weakening you even more. Your vision had blurred when the fires began.

You recalled Bilbo running to save Thorin, and then you were being supported by Bofur as Dwalin, Fili and Kili all jumped into battle to fight against the Wargs.

Then everything had gone dark. Until Gandalf brought you back.

“Now now, lass, we need to take a look at those wounds.”

You waved Oin away, leaning heavily against Fili. “No, not until we get off this rock.”

“You were brave,” Fili whispered softly at you. “You saved my life, but you’re in no state to climb down yet.”

“I’m fine, Fili.”

“No, you’re not,” Thorin spoke up. “Do as Oin says. We have no time to wait for your stubbornness.”

Despite his kind words to Bilbo not mere minutes ago, his attitude was once again harsh and crisp towards you. You saw Fili’s eyes harden and he gently lowered you to sit on the ground as he marched towards his uncle.

“Her stubbornness may have saved all our lives in those caves, Uncle,” Fili said defiantly. You blinked in surprise. His tone had lowered menacingly and he didn’t waver one bit.

“She has tried time and time again to meet your approval!” your love continued. “And yet, even on the brink of death, you still cannot bring yourself to take a liking to her?”

“Fili-,” Thorin began.

“She has done more for this Company than any of us! And for what?”

“Fili…”

“Erebor isn’t her home, and yet she still comes with us. She owes us no allegiance, and yet she still fights for us! She puts up with all the foul words you throw at her, right up to the moment where she could die, saving my skin! Why would she do any such things when you still treat her like vermin?”

“Because she loves you, Fili.”

Fili froze mid-rant. He tended to ramble when passionate about something, you remembered fondly. You stared as the King Under the Mountain looked past his nephew at you. You clambered to your feet as he came closer to meet him at his height.

“I am realizing many things, Y/N. I realize that Hobbits may be more stubborn than us Durinfolk, and that the dead still live.” He paused a moment and his eyes flickered to the ground. “And I also realize that I was wrong about your intentions with my nephew.”

Your ears couldn’t believe what they were hearing. You stared at Thorin, dumbfounded at his confessions.

“I apologize it took me so long,” he apologized! “and that it took a brave but foolish action on your behalf to make me see that, truly, the two of you were destined for each other.”

Fili had rejoined your side and your hand squeezed his tightly, both for support and in disbelief.

“What are you saying, Uncle?”

“I’m saying that I give my blessing to your courtship. Though I hardly think that would’ve stopped the two of you from getting married anyway.”

You grinned at that, because it probably was true. “Thank you, Thorin.”

You wanted to scream, celebrate and cry all at once, but you slumped against Fili in exhaustion. All your resources were almost spent. Fili wrapped an arm around you.

“Let’s get you fixed up, love,” he murmured before looking back up at Thorin. “But, Uncle, all the things you said. The traditions we’ve had, the expectations of me as crown prince…”

Thorin rested a hand on Fili’s shoulder and smiled. “Let me deal with that when the time comes, Fili. None will stand in the way of me and my family’s happiness. Even old laws and their rules.”

Fili smiled and tears formed in his eyes. The two Dwarves pressed their foreheads together for a moment before he picked you up in his arms and lead you to Oin and Gandalf, promising to take care of you from now on until the end.

-

So! I promised this third and final part a very, very, very long time ago, and many of you had asked for it back then. Then I disappeared and never looked at Tumblr for years, up until now. I’m beyond sorry for not writing for so long, and I hope I’ve made it up to you with this. Let me know what you think, or if you want to see me write more. Even after all these years I’ll always come back to Middle-Earth and their stories.

[rattyoakenbitch]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐰𝐧 ➳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯: . . 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩

— summary: after getting out of the storm, it just seems like the company keeps getting themselves into more and more trouble. they ultimately end up at the bottom of the mountain, all the way down in goblin town. they fight for their freedom, all the while aramina and her stubborn dwarvish leader, thorin, sort out their complicated relationship.

— warnings: fic will include smut, language, angst, ptsd, depictions of gore.

— pairings: thorin oakenshield x female oc (oc info here) masterlist

Aramina fell in and out of consciousness after the hard fall despite Thorin’s efforts to keep her shielded from the rough landing. Though she was barely able to stand, she was pulled on her feet, getting roughly dragged along by the Goblins. Thorin noticed her head fall back and limbs go limp several times, but the Goblins disregarded this and tugged her with them, some even slapping her awake, laughing while doing so. Thorin grunted at their harsh treatment. He wished he could move to the front to support Aramina in her weak state, but he too, just like the rest of The Company, was being held back and bound. 

The Company finally arrived before the Goblin king, who was sitting on his tiny throne that was crushed beneath his weight. After the Great Goblin finished his little song and received The Company’s opinions, he spoke, “Who are you?” The Goblin king started. “Spies? Thieves? Assassins?!” 

“Dwarves, your malevolence,” one Goblin spoke up as the Goblin king searched among The Company, Aramina catching his eye. As soon as the king gestured to her, the Goblins pulled her to the front. 

“And a Fawn! What a surprise,” the king chortled. “Now, wouldn’t she make a good little pet?” At that, three Goblins brought Aramina down on her knees, as another tied a collar-like chain around her neck, pulling her to the Goblin king’s side while she writhed around. She tried to shove the Goblins off her but all efforts were in vain. “See? Good pet!” the king mocked, tugging at Aramina’s ‘leash’. She gasped for air as the chain around her neck grew tighter with each pull, all while The Company watched in distress but could do nothing. Until.. 

“Do not touch her!” Thorin’s deep baritone voice echoed as he came forward into the Goblin king’s sight. Aramina looked up at Thorin, her gaze meeting his. A concerned expression was etched onto his face, but Aramina gave him a small reassuring smile. 

“Well, well, well! Look who it is! Thorin! Son of Thrain, Son of Thror,” The Goblin king announced, stooping down. “King Under the Mountain!” Then the Goblin king stood to his full height, looking down at Thorin with a smug smile playing on his lips. “Oh, wait! But I’m forgetting! You don’t have a mountain. And you’re not a king..” The Company cringed upon hearing the words spill from the so-called king’s mouth. “Which makes you.. nobody, really.”

“He’s more of a king than you ever will be,” Aramina snarled, resulting in getting her collar pulled to a tighter setting. She held her chest, coughing as she felt the air get knocked out of her lungs. Thorin looked at Aramina, then back at the Great Goblin.

“Let her go, or by my oath, I will kill you all,” Thorin said through gritted teeth. The king simply laughed and leaned back into his throne, his grip still on Aramina’s leash, twiddling with it teasingly. 

“I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head,” The king started. “Just a head! Nothing attached.” He smiled maliciously. “Perhaps you know of whom I speak. A pale Orc, astride a white Warg.”

Thorin looked up at the Goblin king intently, his chest rising and falling fast. “Azog the Defiler was destroyed.. He was slain in battle long ago!” His voice became shakier with each word. Could the Goblin king be telling the truth? The Great Goblin leaned in, his repulsive breath fanning against The Company’s face.

“So you think his defiling days are over, do you?” He turned to one of his minions, and with a chuckle, told it, “Send word to the pale Orc. Tell him; I have found his prize.” 

“Bones will be shattered! Necks will be wrung! You’ll be beaten and battered! From racks you’ll be hung..” The Great Goblin’s voice rang out, echoing against the stone walls. Aramina whimpered at both the irritating song and lack of breath. She felt her head become light, and neck grow numb. Her vision darkened and the surrounding noises became more and more faint. She was going to die. 

“Aramina!”

“Lassie, can you hear us?!”  

“Aramina, no!” Thorin’s voice shook her awake. She looked up at him with half-lidded eyes as he writhed around, trying to escape from the Goblin’s grasps and get to Aramina. The Goblin king looked between the two, laughing mockingly and yanked on the chains again, straining the collar around Aramina’s neck. 

“Aw, she’s special to you, is she?” The Goblin guffawed, watching Thorin’s expression change into a painful one as Aramina struggled to breath, her body growing weaker by the second. “It matters not. She will die like the rest of you.” His laughing was cut short when a Goblin pulled out Orcrist, promptly throwing it on the ground and scattering away from it. “I know that sword! It is the Goblin Cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!” The Goblin creatures surrounded The Company, jumping and pushing them to the ground. “Slash them! Beat them!” Thorin was especially whipped, and tackled with a dagger getting pointed to his neck. “Cut off his head!” 

A blast of light, followed by a gust of wind knocked the Goblins off, stunning them briefly. In the center of the clearing smoke, there Gandalf stood. “Take up arms. Fight!” When the Dwarves were out of their bonds and got ahold of their weapons, it was over for the Goblins. Left and right, they were slain mercilessly. As soon as Thorin got on his feet, he immediately made his way to Aramina. Thorin’s breath got caught in his throat as he feared the worst had happened. He kneeled by Aramina’s side, picking her up in his broad arms. 

“Aramina!” The chains around her neck were shattered in the explosion, but she didn’t stir. She laid almost lifeless in his hold, if it wasn’t for the slow rise and fall of her chest. “Aramina, wake up!” Despite the fight raging around him, Thorin didn’t leave Aramina until she showed any sign of consciousness. When she did, Thorin let out a sigh of relief. Her eyes fluttered open, instantly falling on Thorin. “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Excuse me,” she coughed, still regaining her strength. “I almost died! But hey, it’s good to know you have feelings.”

Thorin couldn’t help but crack a smile. Aramina was back. “Can you walk?” Aramina’s eyes left Thorin’s face, drifting away to the battle behind him.

“Guess I don’t have a choice.” At that, Thorin picked her up as she clung to him weakly. 

“Stay close.”

“I can handle myself, Thorin. I’m not a baby,” Aramina claimed, despite her staggering and clumsiness. Oh yes, Aramina was back and still as snarky as ever. Thorin rolled his eyes at her.

“Be quiet! You may act like an ass later but first, let’s work on getting out of here.” 

The duo fought side by side, protecting and backing up one another despite having a nasty argument the same day. 

“And to think you wanted me gone not long ago,” Aramina said with a grunt while beheading several Goblins all in one swing.

“If you’ve forgotten,” Thorin started, still effortlessly fighting off the crowd of Goblins. “You were threatening to kill me, so who do you think is in the wrong?”

“I like to think I had a good reason to after your unfair treatment with the Hobbit--!” Aramina spun around to see Thorin on the ground, two small Goblins tackling him. She kicked the Goblins off into the depths below them and helped Thorin up. “Don’t worry; you come from a strong line of lunatics, your majesty. You’ll be fine.” Thorin grumbled at her remark, but brushed her off as they ran side by side, killing any and every Goblin in their path. Aramina raised her dagger at one particular Goblin, until said Goblin was pushed off into the cave below them by Thorin. “Hey, that was my kill, you numbskull!”

“Hm, such poison from a pretty mouth,” Thorin mused, causing Aramina to furrow her brows in annoyance, despite the blush forming on her face. Thorin noticed the blush on her pale skin, causing a small, smug smile to play on his lips despite the situation and clashing around them.

“Oh, don’t let this fuel your ego,” Aramina huffed, lunging forward to kill off the Goblins and clear The Company’s path. “My face is only red because you’re making me mad!”

“It’s not good to lie to yourself,” Thorin called from behind. Aramina scoffed.

“Keep up, old man!” 

Thorin growled, running after Aramina, determined to ‘win’ the race and establish his dominance instead of being treated like a kid playing a game. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t entertained and amused by Aramina’s childlike yet headstrong attitude. “I do not deem that fair! If I knew you were fully capable of running, I wouldn’t have helped you up!” The Company kept their pace as they ran through the Goblin tunnels, trusting that Gandalf knew the way out. The Company, especially Kili & Fili noticed the change of atmosphere between Aramina and Thorin considering they fought side by side, literally flirting while doing so. They were sure going to tease him for it afterwards. 

Just when they thought they had got away, the Great Goblin king stopped them in their tracks, blocking their escape. 

“You thought you could escape me?” He pushed Gandalf back with his scepter, “What’re you going to do now, wizard?!” Without giving Gandalf the chance to react, Aramina lunged forward and in one swift motion, kicked the Goblin king back and sliced his sagging throat open. The Goblin king paused, “That’ll do it.” His body collapsed onto the bridge, his weight bringing it down. The Company hung on tight as they rode the broken platform down the cave at an immense speed, hitting the bottom of the cave with a hard impact, yet miraculously surviving without any broken bones. 

“Well, that could have been worse!” Bofur exclaimed, shortly before the Goblin king’s body piled on top of them. “Oh, you’ve got to be joking me!” The weight of the Goblin king’s dead body and debris kept them down briefly, until the sight of a Goblin army charging at them shook them awake. “Gandalf!” The Company fought their way out of the rubble, turning to Gandalf. “There’s too many of them! We can’t possibly fight them all off!”

“Only one thing will save us.. Daylight!” The Company hurried out of the cave, but Thorin stayed behind to look for Aramina under the mess. He eventually found her small figure and pulled her out.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Thorin said, referring to the Goblin king. Aramina just scoffed in response.

“I was fully capable of kicking his ass. You needn’t worry about me.” 

“Aramina, don’t be a fool. You’re bleeding!” Aramina got to her feet and looked down, where the bloody outline of a shallow gash ran along her ribcage to her abdomen. 

“I’m fin--”

“Would you listen to me for a second?!”

“It’s been a second!”

They paused their petty argument, looking up at the Goblins getting nearer and nearer.

“Do you trust me?”

Aramina gulped. “Yes.” Thorin swept Aramina off her feet, securing her tightly in his arms as he carried her out the Goblin tunnels, running after The Company. Aramina couldn’t help but smile. “This is new.” Thorin rolled his eyes at her.

“Don’t get used to this, Aramina. We still have plenty to sort out.”

“Oh, be quiet. You don’t need to act so brash all the time,” Aramina huffed. “I try to lighten the mood and you still manage to hold a grudge against me!”

“You’re hurt, Aramina! I do not understand what’s so relieving about that!”

“Well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” The two kept quiet after that as they approached The Company, who noticed Aramina in Thorin’s arms. They wanted to smile and make a joke about it, until they realized Aramina was hurt. Thorin set her down on a rock and called Oin over. “Hold still, this may hurt,” he warned. Aramina braced herself, but the wound didn’t hurt as badly as she thought it would. Thorin came forward to talk to Aramina as soon as Oin was finished cleaning and patching her wound up.

“I would take back what I said in the cave,” Thorin apologized sincerely, a guilty expression crossing his face. “I realize I had gone too far with my words. Forgive me, Aramin--” Aramina threw her small arms around Thorin’s slightly larger figure, engulfing him in a tight hug. She pulled away shortly after to get a good look at Thorin, a small smile playing on her lips.

“I would say the same.. T-Thank you for saving my life.. Even after I threatened to take yours,” she stammered. “Well, I mean, I never would have killed you over a petty argument in the first place--!” Thorin cut her off with a laugh at her awkwardness. Aramina pursed her lips, huffing. “Well, I’m glad I was able to squeeze a laugh out of you. You should do it more often-- I mean you should laugh more often! You know you’ll get forehead creases if you’re always brooding!”

- - - ♡ taglist ♡ - - - @tschrist1​

[dragonslayer-5fanfiction]

My Burly Love Chapter 5

Alright, I got it done. The picture credit goes to @umetakenoko, who has the most amazing artwork, please go check it out. It’s stunning!

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

I was sad to leave Rivendell behind, because there I knew we were safe, and I was getting some training in. I knew that once we stepped out of Rivendell, training would be put on the back burner. I valued the one on one time I had with Dwalin. I could hardly get that outside of training. I sighed as I knew we would be thrown to the wolves once on our journey again.  

We were traveling for a couple of days when we came across the mountain pass. As the day started to come to a close, angry black storm clouds started to gather. This looked like a horrible storm, nothing like the deluge we encountered earlier on in the journey. The pass was narrow and with the wind and rain pelting us, it was a miracle we were making any progress. Lightning lit up the sky as the mountain shook. Bilbo almost fell off, but Dwalin had quick reflexes and caught him. 

“We must find shelter!” Thorin shouted over the noise of the storm. Dwalin pointed somewhere in the distance. 

“Look out!” He yelled and I ducked against the rock face, grabbing hold of Dwalin’s cloak to keep myself from falling off the steep edge of the cliff. A huge boulder was hurtling its way towards us. It hit the mountain directly above where we huddled, a cascade of small rocks and pebbles bouncing and falling toward us. In the midst of all this, Dwalin reached back to make sure I was still there.

Balin stepped forward and pointed at the sky, “This is no thunderstorm! It's a thunder battle! Look!” A giant stood up from nearby and ripped a chunk of rock off the mountain. 

“Well, bless me! The legends are true! Giants; stone giants!” Fili called out. They continued to throw rocks at each other, the debris continued to fall on us. We tried to take cover as much as we could on a narrow path. Out of nowhere the ground beneath began to shake and it split, “Kili, Kili, grab my hand!” They were separated moved farther apart as the giant stood to full height. One of the other giants came over and head-butted the giant we were on. It fell back into place and Thorin, Oin, Gloin, Kili, and I scampered onto a safe part of the path. We stood watching as the giant stood back up ready to fight. A third giant came out of nowhere and punched our giant. 

“No! No!” I screamed as the other half of our company was crushed between the giant’s knee and the mountain. Kili grabbed me to keep me from lunging forward and falling. I was fighting against Kili as much as I possibly could, I think my heart shattered when the rest of them were crushed, however, I could only think of Dwalin. The giant managed to stand up straight and none of them could be seen. I watched as the giant fell unceremoniously onto the narrow canyon floor. I scrambled over to where they were and just around the bend they were all hanging on for dear life. I counted heads, and realised we were missing Bilbo. 

“Guys, we’re missing Bilbo. Where is he?” I yelled kind of panicked. 

Everyone started to look around for him. “There!” Fili yelled spotting him over the edge of the cliff, hanging on for his life. Everyone gathered around him, trying to pull him up. Finally, Thorin had it, and hopped down the side of the mountain and pushed him up. Dwalin helped Thorin up, who was pissed he had to save Bilbo.

“I’d thought we’d lost our burglar,” Dwalin said. I was standing next to him looking over Bilbo to make sure he wasn’t hurt. He was merely shaken by the near-death experience. 

“He’s been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us.” Thorin replied Bilbo looked hurt by what was said. I gave Thorin a dirty look and went back to tending to Bilbo. “We need to keep moving.” 

We started back up the path, but I was so upset by what had happened that I was shaking the entire way up. At one point I grabbed Dwalin’s cloak, to make sure that I didn’t fall. 

“Ey, lass don’t worry I won’t let ye fall.” We finally made it up the hill and into a small cave away from the raging elements. I looked around and saw how exhausted everyone was. We all laid out our bedrolls and got ready to sleep. Thorin assigned Bofur to the watch. I laid down betweenh Bilbo and Dwalin. I don't know how long I was asleep when I felt Bilbo get up. I opened my eyes and listened to him and Bofur talk. Bilbo wanted to leave, to go home, he missed it. I understand I miss my home too, but something about being here with my friends felt just like home too. Maybe not quite exactly the same, but it was close.

I heard sand shifting like there was something moving. Thorin sat up, “Wake up! Wake up!” Before anyone could even respond, the floor opened up and after a moment of being suspended in the air, we plummeted downwards. I swear I was plummeting to my death. We all landed in a heap of elbows, knees, and beards. I couldn’t distinguish one dwarf from the other. I sat up and was greeted by the face of some greyish purple chin. I stared at the warted created with disgust and fear. 

“What is that?!” I shrieked and pushed myself backward away from it. Even more of them rushed forward. Dwalin grabbed me and pushed me behind him. He tried to fight the creatures that came to grab me. There was no way he could have won, there were too many of them. He finally relented and made sure that I stayed behind him, holding my hand. They grabbed everyone and guided us over these rickety bridges that I swear, could not hold all of our weight. Whenever we went over one, I squeezed his hand a little tighter. We made it to this area where there was a giant Creature sitting on what looked like a rickety throne. Under his feet was a pile of smaller creatures. 

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?” He got more crazy at the end. As they were talking I leaned into Dwalin

“What are these things?” I asked. 

He turned his head slightly and whispered, “Goblins.” my eyes widened and I stepped back again. He was about to bring out something called a mangler. Thorin stepped forward to stop this. 

The great goblin was surprised by this. “Well, well, well! Look who it is! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the mountain. Oh! But I’m forgetting you don’t have a mountain, and you’re not a king. Which makes you nobody really. I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just the head, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak, an old enemy of yours. A pale orc astride a white warg.”

 “Azog the Defiler was destroyed. He was slain in battle long ago.” Thorin responded with disgust.  

“So, you think his defiling days are done, do you? Send word to the pale orc, tell him I have found his prize.” The goblin responded and his scribe scooted away on a zip line. He continued to shout at his minions, telling them to bring some things up. As they were doing this, he started singing. “Bones will be shattered, necks will be wrung, and you’ll be beaten and battered, from racks you’ll be hung. You will die down here and never be found, down in the deep of Goblin-town.” They brought the devices up, and some of them were rather terrifying to look at. I stepped closer to Dwalin and grabbed his cloak. 

He glanced back at me, with a raised eyebrow. “What are those? Am I going to die here? I’m not fit to be tortured.” I whispered to him. With my hand on his back, I could feel him sigh.

 He turned towards me, “Lass, don’t ye worry about a thing. Ye will not die, and ye will not be tortured.” I had tears gathering in my eyes, they were threatening to flow out. “Lass, as long as I am alive, I will protect ye with my life.” He grabbed my arms, pulling me into him. “Nothing will happen to you. I swear to Mahal.” I didn’t know much about their culture, but I knew that swearing to Mahal, was a very serious thing. I smiled and leaned into him, finally feeling safe for a brief moment in his embrace. 

I looked up at him, directly into his eyes, “Thank you Dwalin.” I thought for a brief moment about giving him a kiss on the cheek, but before I could do anything the head goblin gave out an ear-piercing shriek.

“I know that sword! It is the Goblin-cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!” He was scurrying away from Thorin’s sword. He looked like I do when I see a mouse. Balanced on his throne, standing on one foot, the body turned, pointing at the thing like it was emitting toxic gas. It would have been comical had we not been in a life-threatening situation. “Slash them, beat them, peel them, kill them all!” They started to thrash the whip harder against us. The pain was debilitating. I felt the split on my back and knew I was going to have scars. He then turned on Thorin, “Cut off his head!” It was chaos, the dwarves started to fight against the goblins even more, and out of nowhere BOOM! 

Just to the right of the throne came a blinding white light. Goblins went flying everywhere, and I collapsed onto the ground. I sat up, and a shadowy figure was walking towards us. Upon closer look it was Gandalf. Gandalf was here!

“Take up arms.” He commanded, when we didn’t pop up immediately he began to yell some more. “Fight! FIGHT!!” We all fought to get up, and while we worked to gather ourselves, Gandalf started swinging. 

“He wields the Foehammer! The Beater! Bright as Daylight!” The Great Goblin hollered. Bombur stepped up and started to throw the weapons to their respective owners. I pushed the goblins away from me as much as I could, seeing how I still don’t have a good handle on how to wield my weapon. It was pure chaos after that. We stood there fighting the goblins off until Gandalf found a way out, and we followed him. 

We ran over the bridges, and I had to fight my hardest to not fall off. The Great Goblin popped up out of nowhere and swung at Gandalf. The dwarves caught him from falling and pushed him back up. Gandalf poked him in the eye, cut his stomach and his neck. When he collapsed on the bridge it shook it loose, we went sledding down the side of the chasm. The walls saved us from dying, however, when the Great Goblin fell on top of us, I thought I was going to die. He was so heavy, it was awful. Some of the others managed to get out of the rubble easier. I was struggling, so Dwalin came over and helped pull me out. I smiled in thanks to him, we didn’t have time to converse.

Kili let out a yell, and we all looked up. Those goblins were like a million baby spiders coming down the wall. I let out a scream and turned to help the others get out of the rubble. 

“There are too many to fight! We don’t stand a chance.” Dwalin said looking at Gandalf. 

“There’s only one thing that will save us, daylight,” Gandalf said and we headed towards the exit of the chasm. We were running for our lives, and they were hot on our heels. We made a mad dash and believe it or not, I’ve managed to build up some endurance over the course of this trip. We came flying into the clearing. It was downhill, and we were coming out fast. I tripped over a tree root, that I didn’t see. I reached forward and grabbed onto Fili’s coat. He just so happened to be in front of me. 

“I’m sorry. I tripped.” I squeaked out when he turned to look at me. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” We finally came to a stop and Gandalf took a headcount. We realized Bilbo was missing and I started to panic again. 

“Curse the halfling, now he’s lost?” Thorin bellowed out. Then a fight erupted between the company, all arguing about who he was with, where he was. “I'll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth......since first he stepped out of his door.” He looked to the side, and I rolled my eyes. He has had no faith in him the entire time. I think he’s wrong, Bilbo will come back. “We won’t be seeing our hobbit again. He’s long gone.”

“No, he isn’t.” Bilbo literally appeared out of nowhere. I looked around, trying to figure out where he came from. 

“Why did you come back?” it was accusatory. 

“Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag-end. I miss my books. And my armchair and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back. Because......you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can.” I smiled and walked up Bilbo giving him a hug. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I knew you wouldn’t leave us.” I pulled back and held him at arm's length giving him a sincere smile. We heard the thundering steps and turned to look up the mountain. 

“Out of the frying pan…” Thorin said. 

“And into the fire. Run!” Gandalf yelled guiding us further down the mountain.

Chapter 6 

Tag list: @fentah, @reignofglitter, @perseny-blog, @xxdragonagequeenxx,  @captainrainbowpanda, @hufflepuff25

[berjhawn]

Elastic Heart - Part 17 - Agreements

Warnings: Fighting, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, ETC

Pairings: Hobbit X OFC; Thranduil X OFC; Fili X OFC; LOTR X OFC

A/N: Since Tumblr is Broke you’ll have to go to my master-list to find all the other parts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait! Please wait!” Bard yells as the two of us run toward where Thranduil had gone. When we arrive I scowl at Thranduil while Bard says, “You would go to war over a handful of gems?”

Thranduil stares forward not meeting our eyes as he says, “The heirlooms of my people are not likely forsaken.”

“We are allies in this; my people also have a claim upon the riches of that mountain. Let me speak with Thorin.” It isn’t until Bard says Thorin’s name does Thranduil turn toward us.

“You would try to reason with the dwarf?” He asks and I nod as Bard says, “To avoid war, yes.”

“Then I am coming with you.” I say as I interject into their conversation causing them both to stare at me. “If anyone can get Thorin to understand it’s me.”

Bard slowly turns toward me as he whispers, “I do not think this wise.”

“Who knows him better than I? I have been with them for months; I can get him to understand.” I could sense that Bard was not a hundred percent happy with my coming along but I was right. I could help.

“You will remain here Lady Melethril.” Thranduil says and I narrow my eyes at him as I say, “My name is Randír, and I do not take orders from you.” Turning back to Bard I could sense he was curious to our relationship but he just shakes his head as he says, “Come with me.” I follow him over to a horse and after he climbs into the saddle I take his arm and pull myself up behind him. I glance over to see Thranduil looking at me with worry and sadness in this eyes but I just ignore him.

We ride through the city and the plain below until we come upon doors of Erebor. I look around Bard’s shoulder and smile as I see Fili standing a few feet away from his uncle. “Hail Thorin son of Thrain, we are glad to find you alive beyond hope.”

“Why do you come to the gates of the King under the mountain armed for war?” I hear Thorin call out and my heart clenches. There is something wrong; I can sense it in his voice.

“Why does the king under the mountain fence himself in? Like a robber in his hold.” Bard calls out and I instantly have the urge to step in.

“Perhaps it is because I am expecting to be robbed.”

“My Lord we have not come to rob you, but to seek fair settlement. Will you not speak with me?” Bard asks and I watch as Thorin nods. I smile as I climb down off the back of Bards horse and a familiar voice makes my heart flutter. 

“Randír?” I hear him say and I smile as I turn toward Fili who is staring at me in shock.

“Randír,” I hear Bard say and I reluctantly pull my eyes away from Fili and back to him and nod.

As we walk up to the barred gates I see a lone raven fly out of the mountain and head toward the east. When we reach the wall I see a hole in the center and follow closely behind Bard as he nears it. 

“I am listening.” I hear Thorin say and I follow Bard’s gaze through the hole to see Thorin standing on the other side not looking at us.

“On behalf of the people of Laketown, I ask that you honor your pledge. A share of the treasure so that they might rebuild their lives.”

“I will not treat with any man, while an armed host lies before my door.”

“That armed host will attack this mountain if we do not come to terms.”

“Your threats do not sway me.”

“What of your conscious? Does it not tell you our cause is just? My people offered you help and in return you offered them only death and ruin.”

“When did the men of Laketown come to our aid in promised of wealth and gold?”

“A bargain was struck!”

“A bargain? What choice did we have but to barter our birthright for blankets and food? To ransom our future in exchange for our freedom. You call that a fair trade? Tell me Bard the Dragon-Slayer why should I offer such?”

“Because you gave us your word? Does that mean nothing?” Bard says and I watch as Thorin leaves the sight of the whole before he yells out, “Be gone! Let our arrows fly!” My heart drops and Bard smacks his hand against the cold stone before he turns away.

“Wait!” I call as I look back through the opening.  “Thorin please listen to me. We do not need to go to war.”

“But we do Randir,” He replies still not showing his face.

“Thorin please, remember how I told you that my father was done in by his pride, you are doing the same, please stop this madness. I cannot lose you like I lost him.”

“I offer you a chance Randír, rejoin us or return with Bard and become our enemy.”

“You cannot ask that of me.” I say as I feel my heart being torn in two.

“I can and I am, what say you?”

My heart clenches as I slowly look back toward Dale; all those people who had just lost their homes and were on the borderline of starvation. I let out a heavy sigh as I realize that my choice would take me away from my family. “I am sorry, but the people of Dale need my help.”

“Then you are my friend no more.” He says and I feel tears threaten to fall from my eyes. “Be gone!” he yells out again and I feel a sudden anger fill my body.

“Can you not see that this is not you? You have the dragon sickness and it is tearing you down making you a shell of your former self.”

“I said ‘Be gone’ Elf wretch!”

“Fine I’m leaving!” I yell out as I slowly start to walk away from them mountain. I fight the urge to cry as I look back toward the mountain to see Fili staring off after me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper as I once again climb onto Bard’s horse. I clutch to his sides as we ride of at a full run back to Dale. As we reach the city Thranduil is sitting right outside its gates upon his elk.

“He will give us nothing.” Bard says when we reach him.

“Pity, although you tried.”

“I do not understand, why? Why would he pick war?”

“It is fruitless to reason with them. They understand one thing,” Thranduil says as he draws his sword and stares at it for a moment before exclaiming, “We attack at dawn!”  As he starts to ride away I hear him ask, “Are you with us?”

I follow Bard’s gaze back to the mountain and I can once again feel my heart longing for a certain dwarf inside. “Come we must prepare.” Bard says and my heart clenches at the thought of fighting my friends. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like a moment alone.” I say as I slowly slide off the back of his horse. He gives me a knowing glance before he rides off into the city. I slowly turn back toward the mountain and I contemplate whether or not I had made a mistake.

The wind blows around me causing my hair to thrash around my face. I feel a single tear stream down my face as I turn and slowly make my way back to Dale. I watch halfheartedly as the men of Laketown ready for war. I glance over at the Elves and see them raise their noses at me. My hear clenches as I realize I am once again alone. I chose wrong.

“Make way!” I hear a familiar voice and I turn to see Gandalf riding into the square. My heart lifts a little in my chest and I smile as I start to walk toward him when Alfrid yells out, “No, No, no! Oy! You! Pointy hat!” I roll my eyes as I quickly start to walk over to him. “Yes you!” he yells out and I grab his arm silencing him.

“That is enough Alfrid!” He slowly turns toward me and I jerk my hand away from his arm as I walk to my old friend. “Gandalf my friend I have missed you.” I say as I wrap my arms around him.

“Where is the rest of your company?” He asks and my smile fades.

“They are in the mountain, I fear Thorin has lost his mind to the Dragon-sickness.”

“Who’s in charge here!” Gandalf cries out as he stares Alfrid down.

“Who’s asking?” Bard says from behind me and I slowly turn to him as I say, “Bard this is Gandalf they Grey, Gandalf this is Bard.” The two of them quickly get acquainted before Bard leads us to where Thranduil is camped.  When we enter his tent I keep my eyes from his as Gandalf speaks.

“You must set aside your petty grievances with the dwarves, war is coming. The cesspits of Dol Guldur have been emptied. You are all in mortal danger.” Gandalf says and my heart clenches.

“What are you talking about?” Bard asks but is instantly interrupted by Thranduil as he stands and walking over to a small table pours a glass of wine as he says, “I can see you know nothing of wizards. They are like winter thunder on a cold wind rolling in from a distance. Looking hard an alarmed, but sometimes the storm is just a storm.”

“Not this time!” Gandalf interjects and I feel my heart clench as the suddenly memory of my father fills my mind. “Armies of Orcs are on the move. These are fighters; they have been bred for war. Our enemy has summoned his full strength.”

“Why show his hand now?”

“Because we forced him! We forced him when the company of Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim their homeland.” I clench my fist closed as I follow Gandalf out of the tent followed closely by Thranduil and Bard. “The dwarves were never meant to reach the mountain. Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them; his master seeks control over the mountain. Not just for the treasure within but for where it lies. Its strategic position, this is the gateway to reclaiming the lands of Angmar in the north. If that failed kingdom should rise again, Rivendell, Lorien, the shire, even Gondor itself will fall.”

“These Orc armies you speak of Mithrandir, where are they?” Thranduil asks and I feel something come over me as I turn and slowly look toward the hills my eyes glossing over with a silver film. “They are coming,” I feel myself say as I can clear as say see them before me. I look around to see thousands of them all around me and say fear filling my voice, “So many,”

“Where do you see them my lady?” I hear Gandalf’s voice ask and I look around but I can’t tell because we are underground.

“It is dark, the stench of Orc is strong for there is nowhere for the scent to escape. They are underground.” I turn to see Azog riding his white Warg toward me and I feel my body burn with anger. Then as soon as I saw them the vision was gone. I shake my head as I slowly turn toward my companions to see them staring at me. I feel a familiar feeling that I had felt in centuries wash over me causing me to smile. I knew this feeling. I look around me as I sense a familiar presence. 

“Ada?” I say barely above a whisper as the feeling once again washes over me it was as if he was there hugging me.

“Melethril, my child; too long have you lived in fear. It is time to rise above your fears and claim your birthright.  This war will be won not through brute strength but through perseverance and compassion. Go now and lead our people, be the strong courageous leader they deserve; and remember, Amin mela lle.” 

As soon as his voice was there it was gone again. He was right; it was time for me to move on with my life. I had a lot to be grateful for. I was alive and well and as a bonus I was in love with a wonderful dwarf.

I smile before I turn back to Gandalf as he says, “Something has changed about you my lady.”

“I feel like I haven’t in many centuries,” My heart warms in my chest and I slowly turn toward the Mountain and say, “I have a feeling before this is all over with Thorin will beat his sickness and the battle against the Orcs will be won.”

“How do you know?” Bard asks and I smile softly as I turn to him and say, “Because I have hope.” Bard nods before he returns to help his people. I slowly turn to Thranduil and Gandalf and follow after them as they walk back inside Thranduil’s tent. I watch as Thranduil pulls something from behind his chair and my face lights up as I see the familiar sight of my father’s blade, Ithildin.

“If you are to join in the fight you will need a proper sword.” Thranduil says as he hands Ithildin to me. I smile brightly as I pull him from his sheathe to see that he had in fact been clean. I turn toward Thranduil and say, “Diola lle mellonamin.” (Thank you my friend.) I slowly turn and walking away tie Ithildin’s sheath to my belt. I walk back over to look at the mountain and I silently say to the wind, “I will save you from yourselves.”

Will Continue - 

[amarabliss]

More Than A Pretty Face - 9 (Thorin Oakenshield/Reader)

IMAGINE MEETING WITH THORIN OAKENSHIELD BEFORE GANDALF AND SHARING A VISION WITH HIM OF WHAT COULD COME TO PASS…

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

How a simple motion could set a person into action. Thorin felt his first step forward when your knees hit the ground, and his voice came crying out as locks of your hair fell to the planks, “Wait!”

Your eyes looked up meeting his causing his heart to ache when he saw them lined with tears. The cruel goblin had not cut much away but the damage was done. It took everything to pull his eyes away from yours and look to the king.

“Oh…” The great goblin leaned forward looking at him, “Thorin…son Thrain…son of Thror, king under the mountain.”

He felt his jaw clench at his next words, “Oh wait…you don’t have a mountain and you’re not a king, which makes you nobody really.”

“Let her go.” Thorin spoke quickly, “If you would see harm come to anyone here, let it be to me.”

He heard his men behind him disagree, stepping forward themselves to take his place. Never did the dwarf king take his eyes off the large goblin who only began to chuckle, “Why would I do that? I will get to you when it’s your turn. You see…I know someone who’s been looking for you, well, not necessarily all of you. Just your head.”

Thorin’s eyes glanced to you as they pulled your arms back further causing another cry to escape your mouth. His eyes were drawn back to the king when he spoke, “Perhaps you know of whom I speak…An old enemy of yours. A pale orc, astride a white warg.”

He swallowed down the instant knot in his throat, “Azog the Defiler was destroyed…He was slain in battle long ago!”

“So, you think his defiling days are done, do you?” The goblin king laughed before turning to a small pathetic goblin on a swing, “Send word to the defiler, tell him I have found his prize.”

“Until then…” The king turned back to Thorin, “I can see you care for this one. This disgusting specimen…let me see her again.”

Thorin made a move to help you and two large goblins pounced on him. He watched as you were forced to your feet to face the king. Your fists clenched as you looked up to him. He reached out to touch you making Thorin jerk against his captures, “You are not a dwarf…but you will die among them.”

You winced away at his oily touch. Your voice was only a whisper as you spoke, “I will not die here today…you, however…would you like to know how you die?”

“No one would dare.” The goblin took his hand back spitting down at you, “No one would try.”

“A sword…from the most unlikely of creatures…” Your voice was louder, so all could hear, “…you do not scare me vile thing…”

The king growled leaning down close to your face, “You will live regret that. Finish her make over boys…cause her great shame.”

“No!” Thorin growled pulling trying to break free as threw you to ground again. The goblin who had cut your hair before moved to the pile of weapons taken from them. He reached down pulling up Thorin’s blade.

Everyone watched him recoil when he began to unsheathe it. It scurried backwards as the king him self recoiled, “I know that sword! It is the goblin cleaver! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!”

Immediately the group was pounced upon as the king shouted for their heads. Thorin the ground his head thunking against the wood planks. He cried out pushing the goblins away as much as he could.

“Cut off his head!” He heard over the shrieks that towered over him. His arms were pinned down as a goblin towered over him a jagged knife raised above it’s head.

“Thorin!” He heard you but could not see you through the mass of goblin bodies piling around him. He braced himself for the knife that was about to impale him.

Just as the hideous creature moved to do so a great wave of energy passed through the cave sending goblins flying. Thorin swallowed down his racing thoughts feeling his arms free again. He rolled over to go help you as a grey wizard began to speak, “Take up arms…”

“Y/N…” He reached down pulling you up. He saw your jaw clenched and eyes focused. He understood, now was not the time for concern, but survival.

“Fight…” Gandalf drew his sword as the company began grabbing their weapons and gear, “Fight!”

Thorin was quickly tossed Orcist as goblins began to try and over take him. He slashed them down putting himself between you and them, “Stay behind me!”

“Y/N!” You turned putting your back up against Thorin’s as Dwalin tossed you your pack. You grabbed it quickly putting your attached bow around yourself securing it before dropping the bag pulling out the sword.

Thorin glanced back at you holding it out in front of yourself. He’d only ever seen you use a bow, “You know how to use that?”

“We’re about to find out.” You let out a cry as you swung low take out a goblins legs. Thorin went over your head seizing the opportunity to behead a few others.

He’d never been in combat with someone who’s movements were so fluid. Yes, dwarven units moved together and kept a formation together. But fighting alongside you was like an extension of himself. You finished each other’s attacks, stepped in when the other countered. It was exhilarating and intimate.

You ran next to him looking ahead, “We’re running out of bridge!”

“Do you trust me!?” He shouted above the echoing shrieks. He saw your eyes widen thoughts racing through them before you nodded. Running still, he put his sword arm around you.

You looked forward seeing a rotted piece of rope hanging out from the bridge. You tensed shaking your head, “No…”

“Yes!” He jumped half dragging you with him as he reached out grabbing onto the rope. It swung forward before breaking under the strain. He felt you grab onto him tightly as it finally snapped sending them falling forward into a roll.

You were quickly back on your feet hoisting him up seeing the rest of the company hurtling toward them. Gandalf in the lead he shouted, “Move!”

Thorin nodded pushing you forward as the rest of the group crowded around them. The twist and turns became confusing as the run continued. Finally every skidded to a halt behind the grey wizard who stood before great goblin.

“What are you going to do now, wizard?” The goblin king spoke confidently.

Thorin made a move to help the old man, but you pulled onto his coat making him stop. He watched the wizard stab the goblin before cutting his throat. He was surprised that Gandalf was capable of such an action, but he did not have time to ponder on it long as the piece of bridge gave out from under them.

Everyone cried out as the bridge tumbled and fell through the chasm. Thorin grunted as you slipped through his grasp when landing against the side. You looked up at him wide eyed reaching up feeling a strong hand clasp yours.

Thorin breathed easily as Dwalin pulled you next to him as the bridge began to slow down between two walls. Everyone began to move slowly off the bridge, and Gandalf helped you down as Bofur spoke, “Well that could’ve been worse.”

You jumped as the body of the goblin king landed on them causing them to cry out. Dwalin who was just about to roll of the pile groaned, “Oh, you’ve got to be joking…”

Fili and Kili ran up beside you. As Fili began asking if you were alright Kili looked above them at the approaching horde, “…there’s too many of them!”

“Run!” Gandalf shouted as they all began to run again.

Thorin noticed you cringe holding your side as you took off next to him, “Will you make it?”

“I have to, if I want to live.” You told him breathing heavily. You felt him put his arm around you, “Thorin, I will slow you down.”

“I will not leave you behind.” He told you firmly as he helped you keep up.

Everything after exiting the mountain was a firey blur. He felt fear and anger and he let it cloud is judgement. He sat along the ridge where the eagles had left them staring off at the Lonely Mountain. It was a beautiful sight, but he could not enjoy it like he wanted to.

He looked up at his nephews taking a seat on either side of him. He smiled a little as they stared off into the distance, “Soon you will both look upon the halls of your father and see it’s wonder.”

“We will together, uncle.” Kili looked at him with a smile, “You are feeling well?”

“Well enough.” Thorin sighed looking down at his hands, “It will not stop me from our travel, but I know of a city not far from here. We’ll go there. I’ll get some work and the rest may find some rest.”

“Uncle, you fair worst then the rest of us…we will pull our weight.” Fili told him confidently worry for his uncle’s wellbeing racing through his eyes.

Thorin looked him nodding, “We will breach the topic when the time comes.”

The three fell silent staring off into the distance as the sun began to reach it’s afternoon high. Finally, Thorin glanced back at the group assessing their situation. Everyone had their things spread out, while Bombur began to cook them something. His eyes narrowed when he couldn’t find you, “Boys, where is our lady companion?”

Fili looked at him frowning, “She went down to the river below some time ago…”

“Alone?” Thorin looked at him concerned.

“Yes.” Kili got his attention, “None of us had the heart to follow her. She looked very…sad…”

Thorin swung his legs up from the ledge and began to walk toward the path leading down, “Uncle!”

He turned as Fili ran up to him, “Uncle we were all there…we all know…”

“Fili, speak your mind.” Thorin frowned watching his oldest nephew struggle to find words.

“I just…worry that we will all say something wrong. Something to offend her and scare her away.” Fili looked him in the eyes, “And for some reason, I think she needs to be here with us. So, please, be delicate. She is…fine glass amongst hammers.”

Thorin smiled at his nephew before putting his hands on his shoulders, “I appreciate your concern for her. I too worry that we will be too brash and scare her away, but I assure you that I have every intention to treat her like the finest of jewels. Gently.”

Fili smiled a little as he nodded, “Good…I like her, uncle, and I am glad that you like her as well.”

Thorin’s eyes lit up surprised, “I…”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Fili told him quietly, “I saw the way you looked at her at Rivendell when she walked down those stairs…and how you reacted in front of that beast back there. We all did.”

Thorin took a deep breath in holding it for a moment before he spoke, “And…what does every think?”

Fili’s eyes lit up as he smiled, “Uncle…your happiness is our happiness.”

“That did not answer the question…” Thorin whispered to him as he began to step away from his uncle, “Fili…”

His nephew stopped looking at him, “You have nothing to fear. She is a beauty and a wonder that we all respect.”

Thorin watched him rejoin his brother flicking him in the ear to get a rise out of him. He chuckled as they swatted at one another before he turned heading down the path. The river was insight just around the corner and he could just begin to make out a form he assumed was you near it.

He didn’t know what he was going to say to you. You’d done so much for the entire company in the last day and saved him countless times with the goblins. He knew he needed to say something…he knew he needed to say many things.

He came up behind you kneeling at the calm river looking down at your reflection. You were touching the loose locks that hung from the rest of your hair. His heart hurt seeing how deeply this pained you, “I am so sorry…”

You jumped looking at him. You let out a sigh putting a hand over your heart, “You scared the life out of me…”

“I am sorry for that too.” He took a few more steps toward you as you stood up.

“For the later, I forgive. For the former…I don’t know what you are referring to.” You told him brushing your hair behind your ear. A foreign movement to you.

“I’ve put you in so much danger…” He took another step closer to you making you look up to his face, “I have put you in a position that-that made you lose a great deal…and hurt you.”

You looked down the hair slipping back out from behind your ear, “You did not do anything. I put myself next to you and your company. What has happened, happened because I chose it. You did not put the knife to my throat.”

“But I should have been in your place.” He told you firmly.

“No.” You shook your head, “If you had been there, you would be dead. That is not something that can happen. Besides…it is hair…it will grow again.”

He watched you frustrated, push the hair behind your ear. He swallowed before licking his lips, “I could help you…braid your hair.”

You looked to him again surprise written on your face. You flushed as you spoke, “I couldn’t let you…I know that means you care deeply for someone.”

“It does.” His heart skipped as your eyes met with his. He reached up slowly letting his fingers grasp the loose bits of your hair.

Your face flushed more as your gaze never left his, and you spoke at a whisper, “I am not dwarf.”

His head tilted a little, “Does that matter to you?”

“No…I just…” You looked down for a moment, “I thought…”

“It does not matter to me.” He whispered his fingers still playing with your hair.

You stared at him the sound over the river all that greeted them. You spoked finally when the silence became too much, “What will this mean? I know it’s…important…but what are the...promises, if you do this…”

You were being careful with your heart. He could understand. You were not a young person who would throw their heart out carelessly. He took a deep breath in before he spoke letting his hand drop to his side, “The braid would mean that I am courting you…with the intention of proposing.”

“Thorin, we barely know one another…” You stepped away from him at the word propose looking away.

He could see this fear well up in you and it concerned him, “Yet you do feel it. This ease…this connection. I know I love you.”

Your eyes snapped to his face as he went on softly, “I love you…I know it seems…foolish. I know. The idea is frightening, but there is this old belief within our society that there is one soul out there in the world that we connect to, our One.”

“And you believe that, I, am your ‘One’?” You swallowed staring at him as he nodded slowly, “And you intend to propose.”

“Truthfully, I would do it now…but I know it is not a normal pace.” He told you feeling his nerves begin to boil, “I do not mean to make this rush…but I cannot keep my feelings for you hidden any longer after seeing how close we all came to death this past day.”

You looked away for third time now staring at the river. You smiled shaking your head a little as you spoke softly, “Tho a'o llha' ha'rcs iya'aum hooam llarr fao nnaghriy.”

He’d never heard you speak such a language before, “…what does that mean?”

“Hm…” You turned back to him letting your arms fall to your sides, “it’s something my father said to me a long time ago…all you need to know is…I will allow you to court me, but I cannot accept a proposal…it will take time.”

His heart swelled at the simple fact that you did not reject him, that you didn’t deny that there was something between the two of you. He smiled offer his hand to you, “I can accept that, as I do understand.”

You slid you hand into his feeling warmth spread through you instantly, “So…how does this…work?”

He guided you over to a nearby rock releasing your hand to take off his coat laying it on the ground for you, “It’s very simple…please sit…and relax.”

“Relax?” You tilted your head a little confused.

“That is the idea.” He took a seat offering his hand to you again helping you down between his legs, “The idea of this custom is to spend time with one another. Braiding can take a long time.”

“Do we have the time?” You glanced back at him concerned.

“I will make the time, do not worry, kurdel.” He smiled at you again putting you at ease as he began to undo the ribbons in your hair.

After a moment you spoke slowly, “That word…kurdel…it’s an affectionate term?”

“Yes.” He nodded placing a ribbon on his knee gently. He knew they were important, “It means heart of hearts…my heart.”

He watched the tips of your ears redden, “I see.”

“Does it embarrass you to be referred to as such?” He asked pulling out another ribbon.

You sighed shaking your head a little, “It’s not embarrassment it’s…unusal. I’m used to just being a traveler, a guest, a friend…it’s been a long time since I’ve been a homashoc a'o.”

He chuckled a little seeing you smirk a little, “I assume that is an endearment?”

“You’re not the only one who can speak something other than common.” You told him playfully, “Yes it means one who’s to be cherished.”

“Can you say it again?” He asked you quietly.

You swallowed speaking slowly, “Homashoc a’o.”

“Homa…” He found the language soft compared to Khuzdul.

“-ashoc…” You turned your head as he repeated you, “a’o…”

“…a’o…” He nodded a little as you blushed, “I wish cherish you, every single day.”

You turned your head back so he could continue undoing the mess you always made when you put your hair up. You had no response for him. How could you? You known him a few weeks and that was it.

You brought from your thoughts from a quick sharp pain that came from your head, “Ah…”

“I am sorry…” He sighed trying to be gentle.

“This is not uncommon.” You told him with a huff, “I am not the best at keeping my hair maintained on the road, and we did travel through snow and a storm and goblins…do what you must, you will not hurt me.”

Several yelps later you wild main was free from ribbons. Your hair was not actually wild he began to find as he combed his fingers through it. He smiled as you sighed slowly relaxing as he began working the braids through out your hair. The goblin had only managed to cut the front portion of the left side. Enough that it was a nuisance to you, but braided it was rather delightful to look at.

It took a while to finish but once he was satisfied he put his hands on the sides of your arms. You jumped just slightly as you had fallen back against the rock between his legs watching the river, “It’s finished…”

You looked back at him, “Already?”

“Did you imagine it would take all night?” He chuckled a little as you moved over to the river. He watched as you stared down into the reflection seeing the braid fall over your right shoulder neatly. He smiled when you touched a smile coming to your lips.

As you turned your head as small gasp came as you saw the ribbons woven in on the left side giving you the length you lost back and allowed him to make a colorful design through the braid, “Thorin…”

“I know they mean to you…” He stepped over to you, “It’s the one thing that is from your father and mother…It would be wrong of me to keep that from you.”

You turned to him tears at that corners of our eyes, “Thank you…it’s beautiful…all of it.”

He nodded putting his hand to your cheek gently brushing an escaping tear away, “I should be thanking you for the honor.”

“We will have to talk about customs more.” You sniffed wiping a hand over your face. He could tell that this moment was affecting you in more way then one, “I feel there is a gap that we should connect.”

“Y/N…” You paused as you moved away. He looked at you with concern, “This is more than ribbons in your hair, isn’t it?”

You looked away feeling surprised. You could feel his concern for you. You always did. You felt everything when you were around him. Perhaps they weren’t meant to hide anything from each other, if they really were destined for each other. You swallowed and nodded, “Yes…”

“What is it?” His brow came together as he offered his hands to you. Something you didn’t expect. You had always been used of people just taking their affection. He offered it, but never expected it in return.

You turned to him putting your hands in his slowly again feeling the warmth spread up your arms, “I…am not used to feeling…pretty and this gift you given me tonight in the form of braid of all things…it’s wonderful. I know it’s silly…”

“It’s not silly.” You looked into his eyes not seeing someone who found the confession trivial. You teared up more as you stared up into his eyes. You looked down shaking your head, “Amrâlimê…”

“It’s too much…too soon…” You whispered feeling him step away his hands linger on yours, “I’m sorry Thorin…I’ve been hurt to deeply for you to be so kind so fast…”

His heart stung as he stood there holding your hands a world between them as you looked up showing your tear stained cheeks, “Y/N…I will work everyday to prove to you that I love you. That I have no intention of hurting you. You have nothing to fear from me. I am not that person who hurt you.”

You nodded slowly looking at him his eyes full of sincerity and conviction. This was a man you could love, for when you looked into his eyes you felt home. You were only scared that it would be taken from you again like it had so many times before. You couldn’t risk your heart unless you were sure he’d stay.

He smiled giving your hands a soft squeeze, “We should go back to camp. I’m sure supper is ready.”

You nodded instantly feeling the absence when he let go of your hands and moved to pick up his coat. Your eyes followed him watching him a moment before you spoke, “I do feel something…it is there…you should know.”

He looked at him hope glimmering in his eyes as he smiled, “I never doubted it amrâlimê…”

You sniffed as you stepped with him toward the path, “Are you going to tell me what that means?”

“I’m going to let you figure that one out.” He smiled helping you up the ridge, “I’m sure it won’t take you long.”

The walk up the slope was quiet. The pair simply enjoying the presence of each other. Stealing soft glances when accidently, or not, bumping each other’s hands stealing moments of touch.

Thorin watched the company look up as the pair walked into the camp seeing smiles, approving looks and what he could only describe as pride as their new queen walked beside him. Well, potential queen.

Dwalin who’s face was blank stood up walking toward the pair. He stopped in front of you looking over to Thorin before his eyes went back to you again, “My lady, you have arm no matter the request, I will always be at your service.”

You watched him put a hand to his chest and bow, “I…I…thank you, Dwalin.”

Soon the rest of the company was standing behind him all a hand to their chest bowing low. Thorin smiled proudly before moving next to Dwalin putting his hand over his heart looking you in the eye as he bowed as well, “May we serve you well, amrâlimê.”

The moment was over just like that. You stepped up to Thorin whispering, “You said of that…”

“As you said, we should discuss customs…” He smirked a little seeing distress, “Fret not…they anticipate you becoming queen…I will let them all know you have not accepted such a role and to treat you no differently. It will be hard for some, but you will be no worse for wear.”

“All this over a braid…” You sighed walking with him over to fire smirking a little at him.

He was about to give some sass but Fili and Kili jumped up at once. Kili smiled at you brightly, “Does this mean we get to start calling you Auntie?”

“Uh…no…not yet.” You blushed a little.

“Kili, back off. I’m sure uncle and Y/N have things planned out in their own way and time.” Fili was also smiling, but his maturity shown through as he looked at you, “You look lovely…may I get a better look?”

“Oh, I wish you would, he did such an amazing job…look at what he did with my ribbons!” Thorin new you had no idea what it meant that you were telling everyone how wonderful of a job he did. The praise was enough to make his heart sing for days.

Balin stepped up to him as you were pulled away, “You did a fine job lad.”

“I am only half way there…” He glanced a Balin as you continued to gush over his handy work to more of the troupe, “I have yet to propose.”

“But you did tell her everything?” Balin questioned him seriously, watching his king nod slowly. Relief spread through the old dwarf’s shoulders, “Good…it will not come as a surprise then.”

“Balin…she has been hurt so badly in the past…” Thorin turned to him finally.

“Laddy…the way she praises you now…” Balin smiled brightly, “When the time comes, you will have nothing to fear.”

Thorin watched him step away going over to you to inspect the braid. He watched your smile brighten as Balin began to speak to you. Your gaze drifted to him across the fire. You smiled again, but it was different. It was for him.

He nodded to you and stood unassuming to the rest of the group, simply watching you with everyone feeling full for the first time in many years.

[catbowserauthor]

Hobbit Story: Anchored 4

So, this story occurs before my “Calling in a King’s Favor” and it actually was the start of my AU universe. I plan on finishing my re-write/AU of BOTFA in the near future but this story is what started it.

A missing scene from the Jackson movies, following the first battle with Azog. Emotions comes to a climax while the company stays with Beorn. Thorin has been playing Leader and King for the entire journey but he sometimes forgets that Kili and Fili need him to be an uncle too…and that some things cut deeper among family.

Fourth Part!

Under normal circumstances, Beorn’s homestead was actually quite pleasant. Fili, like most dwarves, was not a huge fan of large open plains and prairies, preferring the comfort of hard stone and rock but even he had to admit that normally the fields and scattered trees were quite a lovely sight. Right now though, he couldn’t see anything except potential ambush sites, places where orcs or goblins might be lying in wait, places that were out of range of the safety of the company. He couldn’t hear anything pleasant about the night, just foreboding growls, grunts and howls.

Wolves he had dealt with before, as had his brother. Truthfully, despite the dangers they could sometimes bring, both Kili and himself had a fondness for the furry beasts and had tried on more than one occasion to sneak one home. Had it just been Uncle Thorin home at the time, he was pretty sure they would have succeeded. Despite the harsh dwarf he presented himself as, Fili and Kili had grown up with quite a different dwarf. While hardly what one would call a pushover, Uncle Thorin could certainly be persuaded. Kili, being younger, one would think could win him over easily and while Kili had a talent for persuading Thorin on the short term, it was actually Fili who did most of the convincing for a lasting change. Like his uncle had often told him, he had a talent for politics and that included being a very convincing debater on him and his brother’s behalf. He recalled quite vividly preaching about how the small white pup that Kili had stuffed into his bag could be trained for hunting and tracking and after all, had not dwarves utilized wolves as companion beasts before, to Thorin’s small growing smile.

Mother’s sudden return home had destroyed his fine work. Her huffing and shouting had led to only one conclusion and Kili had set the pup loose with an indignant cry of “But Uncle almost said yes!”

Thorin never confirmed or denied that accusation but the way he had smiled at Fili later and commented that he could “sell a sword to a handless warrior” had been telling enough to fill his chest with pride.

Kili even being allowed on this journey was due in no small part to him convincing his uncle of the skills and desire of the youngest Durin. Kili, while indeed full of spirit, had never been very good at conveying what benefits his energy, skill and enthusiasm could do and it had always ended up sounding like begging. Fili would always manage to translate that into something that would win over Thorin’s protective nature. The older prince knew that while Thorin was quite proud of both of them, despite their less than stellar performance (in Fili’s mind at any rate) on this adventure, he still could not dismiss years of bonding and that any attempts to draw them away from danger were the uncle trying to push through the king.

He knew it but that didn’t make it easier.

And what would either of them think of you now? He argued at himself. The King would think you foolish and the Uncle would say you were paranoid and worried too much.

Shaking his head back and forth, he glanced back towards the small home of Beorn. Truly, this was ridiculous. He had seen Gandalf heal his Uncle, seen Thorin awake, though slowly and rise to his feet. He had seen him even give their burglar one of his rare but strong embraces. Thorin was well known for using other means to express emotion—gently clamping the shoulder, a nudge with the side of his head, a smile, a back slap. His hugs were to be cherished and you never forgot them. When he and Kili were younger, they used to love getting lost in them, burying their faces into his furs. On a special occasion, their uncle might even indulge them with a dwarven kiss, a gentle touch to the forehead with his own. Fili could count on one hand the number of times he had received that: when he had broken his leg while doing a foolish dare as a child and ended up trapped in a small pit before they could extract him, when he’d been very ill as a child, and when he’d received a harsh injury during training, a deep slash across the belly. Physical affection outside of family was so rare for Thorin. If he had bothered to do so then—

See? His inner voice snarled again as he made his way across the field. See? Something’s wrong. Your Uncle is still hurt, he’s still injured. He’s probably bleeding and not telling anyone and when he finally collapses, Kili won’t know what to do and he’ll bleed out and die.

Okay, no, this was getting ridiculous. Shaking his head, slamming the heel of his hand into his temple, as if that would chase out the thoughts, Fili paused, again. He scolded himself. He was giving into ridiculous fears that had no basis in reality. He was meant to be a leader, a king one day. A king did not give into fear. A king would not be interfering when something was already handled. Thorin and Kili would settle the issues and return before long. Much as Thorin was hard headed and stubborn, his little brother had inherited that same fire and he could work through whatever emotions had finally sprung out of his heart. He was only going to be making things worse by barging into things as he was. The best course of action was to turn around and try to get some sleep before the night slipped away entirely.

Yes, yes, that was what a reasonable leader would do.

Pushing aside the few branches and maneuvering through the speckle of trees throughout the fields, it occurred to him, briefly, that his mind’s rationalizations were being utterly ignored by his body. He pressed onward as if propelled by an inner force that simply would not relent. He argued against it, pushing every type of reason he could muster but that dream, that vision of his uncle lying limp in the eagle’s talons, that pool of blood caking the furs and ground, he couldn’t force that from his mind. He was suddenly wishing for a large mug of ale to force such thoughts from his mind but given he was out here and his heart seemed content to push onward despite his protests, he reluctantly caved.

He heard the whispered Khuzdul after a moment. Soft spoken and whispered but not out of shame. No, this was the tone he had not heard for years. He had never forgotten it though.

It was always spoken softly as it was meant only for one person. It was meant to be a private moment, one that was to be treasured and honored. It was rare for Uncle Thorin to engage in sweet nothings exchanged but it did happen. There were those, some in their Company, no doubt who would have laughed at such a concept. After all, Thorin was a warrior, a king and a leader. Typically, whisperings of heart-feelings were reserved for mothers to their young ones but Fili had grown up with his uncle’s stern but gentle voice in his ear. He knew not to speak of it openly, as the appearance of a stoic leader was important but there was never any doubt that his uncle’s love equally matched his mother’s in passion.

All the same, to hear it now, his eyes watered slightly at it.

Following it, he kept his steps soft and quiet but his elder still heard him. It would have been a shock to him if he had not. While Thorin’s eyes were not as strong as they had once been, which was something he and Kili tried to compensate for without stating that was what they were doing, his other senses were sharp as ever. He had grown into one of their best fighters for a reason and one of those reasons was his near god-like ability to know his surroundings. When Fili had been little, he remembered asking his uncle several times how he accomplished it and Thorin had only ever told him that life was the best trainer one could have.

There’d been such darkness in his eyes that the young prince had never asked again.

Now, rounding the corner of a large tree, he found what he had been seeking.

Sitting on the ground, Thorin had Kili nearly curled into his lap he was pressed so close and was stroking his hair, root to tip, whispering softly to him in Khuzdul. Kili’s eyes were wet but he wasn’t openly crying, at least not anymore. Fili could see the remains of the tear rivers on his face but he said nothing of it. Setting his sights on his uncle, he tried once more to convince his racing heart and all-together-too-active imagination that their fears had been for naught. After all, wasn’t his uncle sitting there on the ground in front of him with nary a problem in sight? Not even any strain visible on his face. No blood, no sweat, nothing. He was fine. He was fine.

He’s fine…

“Fili.”

Head lifted at his uncle’s firm call, he met the blue eyes of their family patriarch for a moment.

All those thoughts, those rationalizations died away and he swore he saw it all again: the fire, the sword swipe, the attack by the warg, the threat to take his uncle’s head, all flashing before his eyes even as he stared into the very alive gaze of Thorin, sitting not even five feet away. They would not fade. They would not go away. Why were they not going away? He had killed in battle before and it had not hurt him this badly. He had wept and found himself shaking for a day or so but not like this. At least then, all he saw when he closed his eyes was what had happened. None of this things that had never happened nonsense replaying over and over like a sick theater performance.

“Fili. Come.”

Thorin set a hand on the patch of ground on his other side. “Come,” he said again.

Fili battled it within himself. He should not come. He should say that he did not mean to intrude and merely was checking on them. He should say that if they wished to return, their bedrolls were already laid out and a guard rotation established. He should say that he was merely keeping an eye on Kili and that…

Slumping against the nearby tree, Fili slid his boots into the dirt and slowly lowered to the ground on his uncle’s free side. He didn’t look at him. Much as he wanted to, much as he wanted to see, to reassure himself, yet again, that there was no blood flowing off his uncle’s face, that his uncle’s head was still firmly attached, that the teeth of that warg had not torn his ribs apart…he didn’t trust himself to look. If he did so now, when they were not separated by distance, when he was within arms’ reach, when he could feel the warmth of the dwarf who had been with him since the day he was born…

He wasn’t sure he could maintain the dignity of an heir.

 He felt like kicking himself.

He should have seen it. He should have seen the tenseness in Kili and the distance in Fili.

He should have heard the fear in Fili’s tone and the horror in Kili’s false laugh.

It was clear as day now that he had one of them on either side of him. The tears in Kili’s eyes cut his heart and the unspoken fears in Fili’s made him sick to his stomach. When had they stopped coming to him? When they were little, you could always find them, lingering around his legs. Had he distanced them so much on this quest that they could not come to him with their worries? He knew that both of them fretted far too much over what he thought of them, of how he appraised their skills. Kili would not want to worry him and Fili would put everyone else before himself, no matter what the damage to himself.

He should have expected as much. Fili was loyal, a type of loyalty that was hard to find and the kind that never faltered. As soon as Kili had snapped, he should have been calling to Fili to come with them because if Kili was snapping, then Fili was containing. It was a pattern as familiar as the sound of the lads’ voices and yet he had not seen it. He had been completely blind to it. Thorin did not feel bad about his decisions very often, as you couldn’t be second-guessing yourself as either a leader, a king or a warrior but he certainly felt the regret of THIS oversight.

Fili still hadn’t looked up at him.

Shifting slightly and moving his hand free, Thorin reached out and gently laid his hand into his eldest sister-son’s golden locks, gently rubbing them, as he had to the younger one. “Fili, look at me.”

No words but a slight shake from side to side.

Thorin could count on one hand the times that Fili had refused to obey him. Even as a child, he was so obedient at times that it was frightening. The exiled king distinctly recalled, more than once, telling the boy to ‘get in trouble, Mahal’s sake!’ Kili would naturally convince his sibling to take advantage of that and Thorin was never sure if he should praise or curse the mischief that followed. He tended to do both.

On this quest however, aside from the incident with the ponies, which he’d contributed to the simple impatience and boredom of youth more than anything, both his sister-sons had been strikingly mature, all things considered. They had a lot to learn but they had grown up knowing of the importance, the integrity of this mission. He had told a great many stories to them, a great many tales and songs. When the time had come, when the realization that they could reclaim their homeland was here, neither of them had been expected to come but they had both met him nearly with their bags already packed. They had yet to fail him since they left the Blue Mountains.

It appeared, however, that he had failed them. Perhaps not as a leader or a king but as family, as an uncle.

Had they been in the Blue Mountains, he would have seen it, heard it, felt it the moment they entered the room that the something was amiss. He and Dis were both experts at it. Now that he was not consumed with rage, with vengeance boiling his blood, it was like he had not noticed a bleeding gash down Fili’s face. It was as if he had not noticed an infected wound in Kili’s gut.

He had bound Kili’s and while there was much left to be done, Fili needed him more right now.

He tightened his massage on the boy’s head, while still keeping his other hand in Kili’s (a technique mastered by years of practice encouraging frightened lads to dreams) and said softly.

“Look at me.”

Grasping his nephew under the chin, he forced his head to turn, forced their eyes to meet and he intoned, in a gentle tone that he had been neglect to use for several years, “I know you hurt, do not lie to me. I will not have you suffer needlessly. Talk to me.”

“I…Uncle, I am…” He began but it fell like ash in his mouth. Ash and fire. Blood and sweat. That battle, that laugh from that orc, that blade…

“Fili,” Thorin hardened his tone, just a bit. His eldest nephew, by virtue of being the one burdened with responsibility, had always been harder to crack but if he did not, Thorin did not like the possibilities. The wildness he saw in Fili’s eyes was barely contained. Just as Kili’s had erupted in tears and shakes and screams, Fili’s could not endure forever. Taking an inhale himself, he cast the King and Leader aside and was left with only Uncle Thorin. Leaning forward but not quite touching foreheads, he moved his hand from the chin to the hair again, brushing the braids back and saying, “Talk to me, targ mim.”

Fili cracked.

 Khuzdul Translations:

targ mim--"Little Beard" could be translated also as "Beardling"

[ratwrites]

Dialogue Prompt P.10

“The best part of…”

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Masterlist.

If you’d like to be added to this stories taglist please let me know! If you’d like to be added to a specific character’s taglist or my forever taglist please let me know!

Warnings: Death, Gore

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield X Reader

Word Count:  2,832

A/N: I’m sorry. I may have cried while writing this. To make things worse listen to Paralyzed by NF or Hold On by Chord Overstreet.

I watched as Thorin and his chosen company disappeared out of sight. I tried to fight my anxiety, but all was in vain. My eyes narrowed as I scanned the battlefield for a ram of some sort. I wasn’t going to lose Thorin. A new wave of orcs came from the holes in the ground. My eyes caught wargs and their riders. I locked my eyes on one warg. If I had to I would rangel one of them and ride it onto the mountain. Something was coming up behind me. I whirled around and found Fili’s sword against a dwarf’s neck. It was the rider I had encountered at the start of the war. “(Name)?” He breathed, warm tears swelling into his eyes. My only thought was Thorin. “Do I know you?” I asked, lowering the sword from his neck. A sad expression crossed his face. It hit me. “Brother?” I asked, tilting my head slightly. A smile replaced his sad expression. He moved forward and embraced me in his arms. I found myself unable to hug him back my thoughts traveling away from him. I should’ve been happy to see my brother, but he was distracting me from my task. I pulled out of his arms. “I need a ram,” I said, holding my sword at my side. “What?” He asked. Our conversation came to a halt as two wargs leapt toward us. I went for the closest warg. I had no intentions on killing the beast now that it was close to me. I pulled the wargs rider down into the ground and slit it’s throat, it’s tar like blood splattering onto my clothes and face. I let out a yelp as the warg’s teeth sank into my chain mail and tossed me from my feet. I recovered quickly. The warg lunged and I rolled. I swiftly jumped into the beasts back sliding uneasily into the saddle. I grabbed the beasts fur and pulled. For a moment I struggled with the warg until it was broke to my will. “What are you doing?” My brother called, coming to stand by the warg. The warg snapped at him, but I pulled roughly on its fur to stop it. This warg had surprisingly given up very easily. “I am going after Thorin,” I replied, blandly. My brother frowned. “Father never approved of your relationship with the prince,” he called, giving me a dark look. “It’s a good thing he isn’t present then isn’t it?” I snorted. The look on his face put me on edge.

My attention was drawn from my brother. For him being my kin I had no interest in communicating with him. “Are you really going to leave me for him?” He called, as I began to direct the warg away. I held the warg in place. “Yes,” I called, over my shoulder. I didn’t wait for a reply as I kicked the warg into action. It fought me, but I held on. Full of frustration I pulled Fili’s sword to my side and sliced a cut through he wargs soft skin. The beast let out a yelp and began to buck like a horse. I sliced again. “The more you fight the more I hurt!” I snarled, slicing another cut into the warg. It wasn’t as dumb as I had hoped. The warg rolled over crushing me under it. My breath left my body as it stood up. A large clawed paw came onto my stomach and pressed down. “Bad idea,” I snapped. I swung the sword and relieved the warg of it’s paw. I jumped to my feet as the warg fell to the ground flail in pain. I moved and put the beast out of its misery. “(Name)!” I looked up to see my brother riding toward me. He was atop a large ram. “What do you want?” I growled, as he came to a halt next to me. “You want to get to Thorin, right?” He asked. He help out his hand to me. I hesitated unsure on whether I should trust him or not. My eyes turned to the ridge as another horn rang out. I could see the small shape of dwarves struggling against orcs. I let out a yelp as an arm pulled me into the back of the ram. “If I can’t convince you then I will have to force you,” he growled. I suddenly understood the panic that the warg must have experienced. He pulled me in front of him and wrapped a strong arm around my waist. With one swift motion I tossed my head back allowing it to collide with his face. I pulled against his strong grip. I felt his arm slip away from me. My body began to move off of the ram. I swiftly grabbed his arm and dragged him off with me. Once we hit the ground I rolled away from him and put the tip of my sword to his throat as he stood. I stepped back toward the ram. “Would you really kill me?” He asked, a hurt expression crossing his face. I did not answer him as I turned and mounted the ram. “Thank you for the ram,” I spoke. I kicked the ram into action. It was much easier to control than the warg. I kicked the ram to move faster as we reached the base of the ridge. The ram began to climb the mountain at great speed. When we reached the top I dismounted and raced toward the sound of fighting. I pulled my sword up as I lunged at an orc that was standing over Dwalin. I took the orc down. “(Name), what are you doing up here lass?” Dwalin growled, as he got to his feet. “Aiding amrâlimê,” I replied, sharply. Dwalin gave me a gentle look. Something wasn’t right. “Where are they?” I asked, my sword falling to my side. “(Name)..” Dwalin muttered. “Where is my amrâlimê and my baruf,” I growled, stepping toward him. “(Name)!” A baritone voice echoed, behind me. I whirled around to see Thorin. “Oh thank Mahal,” I breathed, a breath of relief. 

“I told you not to follow us,” he spoke, coming to stand in front of me. “And when have I ever listened to you?” I asked. More and more memories came back minute. Sometimes they were happy memories;  other times they were sad. I looked up into those ocean blue eyes drowning myself in them for a moment. “Where are Fili and Kili?” I asked, drawing my eyes away from Thorin’s and to the ridge where Azog was taking his stand. “They are scouting out area,” Thorin replied. “You sent them in here?!” I hissed, turning to face him again. A look of shame crossed Thorin’s face. I turned away from him and looked to the mountain. “I’m going after them,” I spoke. “(Name), no,” Thorin said, grabbing my wrist as I moved to leave. I felt a twinge of pain as Thorin held my wrist. He quickly let go realizing that he had injured me there before. I gave the dwarf king a sad stare before rushing off. “(Name)!” he called, after me. I did not respond. I raced to the mountain spotting Kili by the edge. “Kili!” I whispered, running to him. “(Name), they took Fili,” he whimpered. I opened my mouth to speak, but was cut off as as strangled cry reached my ears. Kili and I turned our gaze above us. “Fili!” Kili yelled. Azog held the golden dwarf prince over the edge of the ridge. “See here Oakenshield! I will kill this one first, then the brother, then the queen,” Azog spoke, in the human tongue. My heart began to pound in my chest. Azog’s eyes came to rest on Kili and myself. I let out a yell of anguish as a sword pierced Fili’s chest. The dwarf prince gasped out for air before falling limp in Azog’s arms. Warm tears serged out onto my cheeks like waves. I fell to my knees and buried my hands in my face sobbing. I flinched violently as a loud crash landed next to me. I knew what it was. I raised my head resting my teary gaze on the body of Fili. His eyes were open wide glazed with the leftover fear and pain. I let out another cry of anguish as I moved on my knees to his body. I laid my head down on the dwarf’s bloody chest not caring about the red liquid catching in my hair. I continued to cry as a pit of fire began to form in my stomach. I looked up to see the same fire in Kili’s eyes. “Kili no!” I shouted, as he took off up the ridge. I jumped to my feet and chased after him. I was enraged, but we could not throw our lives away. “Kili!” I screamed. He paid no heed to my calls as he threw himself at an orc who approached him. I attacked another orc that came to aid his friend. I sliced my sword through the hard skin on its stomach grunting as its innards fell to the ground. I moved away from the body. Kili and his orc had disappeared from my sight. I whirled around to see Azog making his way out onto the ice where Thorin now stood. “Thorin!” I screamed. His blue eyes met mine for a brief moment before Azog attacked him. 

Panic rose in me. I needed to find Kili, but I needed to help Thorin. My heart was pulling in multiple directions. My eyes caught a small body lying off to the side. Bilbo.. I hadn’t seen him when I got here. His small form was lying motionless on the ground. I could see the small movement of his chest. I turned away from the sights and began my search for Kili. I heard a loud yell above me. I took off up the ridge toward the noise. “Kili!” I yelled, my voice vanishing slowly. I reached the top of the ridge to see Tauriel and Kili fighting together. I joined the fight coming by Kili’s side. There was nothing but rage in his eyes as he let out a cry of hatred as he lunged at an orc. I aided Tauriel as an orc knocked her from her feet. My attention was drawn away from her as I heard Kili let a cry from his throat. I watched as the dwarf was knocked from the ridge and down onto a small platform beneath us. “Kili!” I ran to the edge as the orc jumped down after him. The world moved in slow motion around me as the orc impaled the young dwarf. More tears serged out onto my cheeks. I felt paralyzed as the orc stood from his dying body. Everything came back into motion as I leapt down on top of the orc burying my sword in its miserable head. I threw the body aside and came onto my knees by Kili. I pulled his head into my lap. “Kili..” I sobbed, brushing a strand of hair from his bloody face. His breathing was ragged and labored. He opened his mouth to speak, but was choked up by blood. “You’ll be okay Kili.. Please don’t go..” I sobbed, pressing one hand against the wound trying to stop the bleeding. I removed my tunic revealing my beaten chainmail. I ripped the cloth in half and pressed one half against his room. “Take care- of- of uncle,” he choked. “You’ll be able to take- take care of him yourself,” I smiled, weakly. His eyes dilated. “Kili,” I called, softly. I shook his head slightly. His body began to fall limp in my arms. “Kili,” I called, a little louder. My voice cracked as I spoke. There was no movement from his body as his breathing came to a halt. I sat silently for a moment. “Kili!” I screamed, pressing my forehead against his. I had lost my boys.. My thoughts quickly moved back to Thorin. I slid out from under Kili and turned my gaze back to the ice. The two were still fighting. Tauriel jumped down next to me tears in her own eyes. I stepped aside with great effort and began to walk toward the ice. I picked up my pace as Azog slipped under the ice. “Thorin!” I called, running down the ridge. He had won. He brought his cold gaze to me. I came to a skidding halt as a sword pierced his foot. 

Thorin let out a cry as he was knocked off of his feet. “Thorin!” I screamed. I moved to go to him, but a weight hit my back knocking me onto my stomach. I rolled over and away from the blade of an orc. I jumped up and fought with the orc before slaying it. “Thorin!” I yelled, turning my eyes back to the fight at hand. I raced out onto the ice slipping and collapsing. My legs felt weak as did the rest of my body. Azog had Thorin on his back in no time. Fear coursed through my body. I couldn’t lose my whole family in one day… “Thorin!” I screamed, as Azog’s sword came down onto him. I managed to get back onto my feet as Thorin beheaded Azog. I wanted to let out a cry of victory, but there were other matters more important to me. Thorin stood to his feet. I tried to call out to him, but my voice failed me. He walked toward the edge of the mountain looking out over the frozen waterfall and onto the battlefield. A loud cry was heard overhead. I turned my eyes to the sky to see eagles coming down from the thick clouds. “The eagles!” Bilbo cried, behind me. I turned my head to see him and Dwalin standing a ways away. I began to hobble toward Thorin. “Thorin?” I choked, softly. He turned to face me. There was a soft yet painful expression on his face. He collapsed. “Thorin!” I cried. I ran to him, ignoring the pain in my body. I fell next to Thorin and pulled his head in my lap. “Thorin it’s okay, I’m here,” I sobbed, tears continuing to roll down my dirty cheeks. “(Name),” he coughed, looking up into my eyes. I tried to drown myself in his eyes, but I couldn’t. “Thorin don’t speak, you’re going to be okay,” I sobbed, running my thumb over his beard. He had a large cut down his forehead which had dripped down to his neck. “You’re going to be okay,” tears blurred my vision but I blinked them out onto my cheeks. “I’m sorry- for everything,” he choked, bringing his hand weakly to mine. I gripped his hand. “I am not angry at you Thorin,” I sniffed, trying to hold back the tears that continued to roll. “I- I do not deserve you..” he spoke. “Do not say things like that Thorin,” I whimpered. “I am sorry amrâlimê,” he said, his fingers tightening gently on my hand. “You are forgiven,” I whimpered. “I know that- that you may not- remember our love… but know- that even through all of this… I will always love you,” he choked, crimson blood forming in the corner of his mouth. “Thorin..” I started. “The best part of…” I paused, trying not to choke on my voice. “The best part of- of forgetting is..” An unreadable expression crossed his pained face. “Is I get… to love you all over again,” I ended, giving him a weak smile. He turned my smile. He let out a violent cough that caused me to flinch. “Take care of- everyone,” he rasped. “No Thorin, you’re not going to die. You’re going to take care of them yourself…” I whined. I had told Kili almost the exact same thing.. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces as Thorin’s grip became very weak. “Thorin please hold on.. I cannot lose you..” I cried, giving him a gentle shake. 

“(Name)! The eagles!” Bilbo’s shaky voice called, from behind me. I looked up to the sky to see a large bird coming down to rest beside me. I carefully moved Thorin out of my lap and stood up. “Take us to Erebor,” I cried. The eagle seemed to nod. I leapt onto the birds back. It took off scooping Thorin into it’s large talons. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I suddenly felt tired. The energy drained from my body leaving me swaying on the eagle. Was I dying as well? I felt my grip on the eagle’s feathers slip as darkness swirled in my eyes. I tried to blink it away, but all was in vain. The darkness took over my sight leaving me in a dark place where the world was gone. This was it. Everyone I loved was dead, and so I was. I was ready.

To Be Continued…

Khuzdul Translations:

amrâlimê - my love

baruf - family

Taglist:

@evyiione @tschrist1 @nelswp @lillee-nika  

[ijustwant2write]

You Have Changed-Thorin Oakenshield x Reader Part 2

(GIF credit to owner)

Masterlist

Part 1

(A/N: This was originally a one shot but @tschrist1 requested another part and I had a good idea. I’m so bad at keeping things as one shots 😂)

Summary: Thorin and (Y/N) grow further apart, unable to see eye to eye. Each day his sickness gets worse. With a raging temper, his decisions become irrational. Now an army of elves and humans (with orcs not far behind) waiting beyond the castle walls, they finally realise the importance of the situation.

Characters: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)= Your name

Warnings: Fighting, violence, death

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Slowly heading down the corridor, I spotted my fiance, looking out of a window. He had that expression face, I knew what it meant, he was worried. Thorin knew that this has got way out of hand but now it was too late.

Bilbo had tried to stop all of this, we all had. The little hobbit had the Arkenstone the whole time, taking it to Thranduil and the humans. When Thorin was confronted by the armies beyond the castle walls, he had not anticipated this battle plan. Everyone was shocked by Bilbo’s attempt to bring peace, Thorin on the other hand was furious; he almost killed Bilbo!

And now a war was coming.

“Thorin?” I called out.

He stayed still.“Look what I’ve done.”

I approached him slowly.“It’s not the best situation, I know. But all we can do now is fight.”

“Orcs have joined the fight.”

I gasped. This was escalting too quickly.“Thorin, w-we need to stay strong.”

“(Y/N), you do not have to act brave. It is clear that everyone is frightened.”

I sighed, grabbing his hand on instinct.“How could they not be? Can you not take back what you said?”

His eyebrows furrowed.“What sort of king would that make me?”

“A king who puts the lives of his people as well as others before his pride.”

“No, that would make me a fool.”

“Thorin-”

His hand slipped out of mine.“I have to go prepare for battle. I do not want to see you on the battlefield.” As he finished speaking, his eyes softened slightly before walking away again.

I wasn’t sure what he meant by his last sentence. Did he just not want to see me again or did he want me safely tucked away? I was a good fighter and it looked like we needed all the people we could get. Storming away in the opposite direction, I made my way to the armory, knowing that I needed to get out there. This was my home too, I would be queen one day, I had to fight for it.

Most of the weapons were gone, as well as the armour. Desperately seeking some form of protection, I managed to find a suit of armour, though a little big, but it would have to do. Grabbing a sword and a bow and arrow, I finally tied my hair back, praying that I would love to tell this tale to my children. I could see it now; Thorin and I would be sat with them on a late night, they wouldn’t be able to fall asleep so we would tell them this story. We would laugh at how stubborn their father had been, shocked at the battle that commenced but so proud that we won our home back.

Slipping out of the already open doors, my eyes laid upon the ferocious battle before me. I could not see the ground, there were so many men and creatures. My heart started to beat faster than it ever had before, sweat already profusely running down my face. Taking a slow, shaky breath, I conjured up any bravery I had left in me, charging towards the fight as a loud roar left my throat.

Your mind changes during a fight. It suddenly becomes more aware of your surroundings, heightens your senses. However, as I neared the first wave of people, I realised that they too were dwarves. Where had they come from? This must have been a kin of Thorin! We finally had help. Pushing through the men, I searched for any of my friends, hoping they were somewhere along the crowd. But when I didn’t find them, I was able to spot someone else I knew.

“Dáin!” I screamed out, breaking through into a clearing. It was Thorin’s second cousin, he had made it just when we needed him.

“(Y/N)! What are you doing here?!” he threw his arms around me, almost squeezing the air out of me.

“I came to fight. I can’t believe you’re here. Have you seen Thorin?!” I yelled.

“The last I saw of him, he was heading up that mountain. You must get back inside!”

Why would he be headed that way? The battle was down here. His family and friends were here, what pushed him that way? Then it clicked.

Dáin grabbed my shoulder, shaking me.“Do as I say. Thorin would not want you here.”

Ignoring his pleas, I broke away from him, shoving my way through more people. To anyone seeing me run in the opposite direction, they would think I was a coward, a scared little girl. But my mind was set on one thing.

Azog.

Coming to an abrupt stop, my eyes widened as I spotted a lone Warg. It lifted its head in my direction, snarling with its teeth bared. I took the bow off my torso, preparing an arrow. It raised a paw, scraping it across the dirt before growling. For a moment we stared at each other. There was no one else around us, we were in a clearing in the field; making me more vulnerable. Without thinking, I started running towards the Warg, letting out a scream to try and seem more scary. It too started to sprint, obviously a lot faster than me. As its mouth opened to snatch me up, I jumped over the head, pulling back on the string of the bow, sending the arrow flying through the air before piercing the Warg’s head. Rolling on the floor as I came to the ground, my head darted up, making sure that it was definitely dead. Just for good measure, I slashed its throat. That felt good.

I could see the Orcs and Wargs patrolling the area. Clearly their leader was here. Tucking my sword back in my belt, I started to carefully climb the mountain. Luckily, they seemed distracted by the armies below them, I didn’t have to go near any of them. Ruins of old castles and buildings covered these mountains, making easy hiding places. As my eyes scanned the area, I remained low, not wanting to be spotted or caught off guard. Mist was rolling in, making it harder to see anything.

An almighty roar made me jump, followed by the confusing sound of what I thought was glass breaking. Looking below me, I finally spotted him, my love.

“Thorin.” I breathed out.

He and Azog were duelling on ice that was now breaking. They were wary of their surroundings, trying to not slip or fall into the freezing water. On instinct, I began to hastily make my way toward them, falling over as I stepped on the ice.

“Thorin!” I screamed out.

He briefly glanced at me before ducking away from Azog’s swinging stone. This repeated itself, but as I kept on trying to get to them, Thorin was finally knocked over. At a disadvantage, he had to roll on the floor. I began to grow frustrated. I couldn’t get up, and when I did, I just kept falling back down. The ice was breaking even more now, the water making it extra slippery.

I couldn’t bear this much longer. He needed help, I needed to help him. Both suddenly stopped fighting as they heard a cry of a bird. Swooping down from above, a group of eagles flew past us and down to the battle. Yes, more help! Scurrying to my legs, I heard the drop of Thorin’s sword. What was he doing?! Quickly, he picked up the stone, throwing it into Azog’s hands. Confused by his actions, I watched as he stepped back, making Azog fall off the block of ice, Thorin slightly grinning. Was he dead? Was he finally gone?

Finally, I was steady again, able to get closer. Thorin was looking down at the ice, probably too caught up in the moment. Though slow, I was making progress, happy tears forming in my eyes until he let out a cry of pain. Again, I fell back when Azog burst out of the ice, knocking Thorin over. Their swords collided, Thorin trying to stop Azog from impailing him. Grabbing the bow and arrow, I loaded it, aiming for Azog. It was as if it was all in slow motion. The arrow flew through the air, scraping Azog’s cheek as his sword pierced Thorin’s chest.

I didn’t realize I was the one who was screaming. It didn’t sound like me. There was so much pain behind it, so much that I had never felt before. My heart physically hurt, but that didbt amount to the pain of losing my love.

For a moment, I thought my eyes had deceived me. Thorin’s sword struck through Azog also, rolling on top of him before shoving it further in. Running (more like gliding towards him), I called out his name again as he stood at the edge of the ice.

“Thorin, Thorin, are you alright?” I was out of breath as I reached him, wrapping my arms around him.

He went limp in my arms, collapsing to the floor. I tried to hold his weight in my arms, almost dropping him. Resting his head on my legs, I smoothed away his hair. Something was telling me that I had to saviour this moment. Forgetting about the blood on his chest, I smiled down at him.

“You did it, you defeated Azog.” I grabbed his hand gently.

He smiled too, coughing slightly.“I told you to stay inside.”

“You know I never listen.” tears were falling onto his chest.“Besides, who else would have seen your finest moment?”

“No. Th-that wasn’t m-my finest moment. That was when I asked you to marry me.”

I laughed.“Yes, it was.”

“(Y/N), I l-love you. I-I’m s-sorry for how I t-treated you before.”

“I’m sorry too. But that doesn’t matter anymore. We’ve won. You got your kingdom back.” I leaned down to kiss him, so proud of all that he had accomplished. Pulling back, he still hadn’t opened his eyes. I waited, hoping that I would see those beautiful eyes one more time.

I shook him slightly.“Thorin? Thorin, please wake up.” As usual he didn’t listen. I waited and waited. A part of me knew they would never open again, another told me that it was over. Striking his cheek with the back of my hand, I laid one final kiss to his forehead, my surroundings suddenly silent. I broke it with another cry, this one filled with more pain and suffering.

He was gone.

My king, my fiance, my love….

Gone.

[maggyme13]

Why licking? (14/?)

AN: I apologise for the long wait and the mistakes you will 100% find in this chapter. It is late, but I did not want you to wait any longer for this next chapter

Warning: angst, injury

Wordcount: around 1700

Why Licking-Masterlist

Masterlist

Part 13

„Azog, this is madness!“, you awed seeing the elven army gathered in the valley below you stand.

“They will fall and we will be victorious, my little mate.”, he hummed reassuringly, “Oakenshield and his brood will lay at your feet when I have won.”

“Azog-”, you tried again, but one look of the great male shut you up at once, “-I will go inside.”

He turned back around and you took it as a sign of approval.

And all of this because a lost arm.

“Ze Mabrotnosh.”, Drago called from somewhere to your right, “Food ready.”

“Thank you. Will you not join the battle?”, you wondered.

“My place is at your side. We are your guards.” You must have looked as lost as you thought because the warg-skin wearing Orc tried again using Westron, “We guards. We protect Mabrotnosh.”

His voice was filled with pride and you finally understood the whole depth of the situation: these orcs were not only Azog´s most trusted, but also your personal guards.

Akul jumped up and down with happiness when he noticed your presence. He had been taken on a hunt with Ska´al earlier that day as a training and was now covered in dirt and leaves.

“Akul,”, you laughed, “you were not supposed to take the whole forest with you. Did you bring something? Except a lot of leaves?”

“Mabrotnosh.”,it was Ska´al. “Akul is doing well. He will soon be strong enough for you to use him as a mount. He killed his first game today.”

But you were not really listening and more concerned about how long it would take you to clean his fur.

“At least I have something to do while they fight.”, you groaned. One of your fingers had just gotten stuck in a slimy something and Akul licked you exited.

.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hours past. You could hear the distant, and yet too close, clanking of weapons mixed with the shouts and screams of the fighters. With every passing minute your worry grew; were they losing? Drago and his orcs seemed to become agitated.

“Drago, I want to go outside. Is that possible?”, you demanded more than asked.

He nodded a yes. “But we need to be careful. Information has it that Oakenshield is coming for Ravenhill.”

Following your guard through the pathways, you suddenly stopped dead in your tracks.

“Release the dwarf.”, you ordered without really knowing why. Deep down you knew the battle was lost and the dwarfs would win.

“Let him go. He will die on the battlefield by one of our orcs, the elves or even his own.”

Hatred and confusion crossed the dwarf´s face.

“Go.”, you whispered to him,” Live or die with your kin. Your faith is back in your hands again.”

You had given him back his freedom. A freedom you no longer had and will never have again. Even though you believed you loved him, you also knew that if you ever tried to leave, he would hunt you down. Taking your own life was no possibility either. It would dishonor your father´s ultimate sacrifice.

“Have someone escort him as close to the battlefield as possible.”, was the last order you gave before disappearing into another dark hallway.

Drago just wanted to say something, when a servant orc appeared out of nowhere.

“Master Azog wants to speak to the Mabrotnosh. One of Oakenshield´s kin had been caught.”, it spoke, motioning to follow him to the head of the tower.

-..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--.

“Ah, (y/n) witness my revenge on the line of Durin.”, Azog exclaimed once he had noticed your arrival.

At his feet laid a young looking Dwarf with blond hair and beard. Blood tickled down his temple and others had splattered over the clothes you were able to see.

Noticing the orc´s change of focus, the hostage lifted his head and disbelieve crossed his face. Never had he dared to think that there would be a female of the Race of men with the Orcs. At least not one who wasn´t a slave.

“Where is the other dwarf? I had ordered for him to be brought here as well!”,Azog continued with anger in his voice. You believed you knew why, you had understood the words for´Dwarf´ and ´bring me´.

“I had him escorted to the battlefield, so his hopes for freedom can be crushed. Maybe even by his own kin.”, you admitted, hoping he would not look straight through your lie.

“WHAT?”, now his anger was directed at you and you took a step back. “You had NO RIGHT.”

Fear crept up your spine.

“He was mine! My enemy! My Revenge!”

In his anger the orc lashed out. Unfortunately for you, it was his prosthetic.

A pained cry echoed through the ruin. He had sliced your face, and trusting the pain he had hid your eye.

I need to leave!

“(y/n).”, Azog breathed himself in shock, “Please.”

But you did not listen, the pain and fear was dominant in your mind. Instead you tumbled back, further and further away from his voice.

Somewhere, you noticed Drago to call out for you while Ska´al was growling, but you did not understand what they said. And there would no time for you to react. The moment you heard them, your foot hid nothingness and you fell.

Seconds felt like minutes; in the end, you did not hit the cold floor as you would have thought, but freezing water of a river below.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-.

The battle was five months ago. You had started to live in a small run down hut at the edge of the ruined town you had learned was called Dale.

They believed you to be a former slave and so the Elves and Villagers had treated your wounds and allowed you to stay.

Another thing you had learned was that the blond dwarf had been a prince and able to survive  thanks to your little ´sacrifice´.  Azog was defeated, but no one knew if he was really dead or still alive; an orc that fit the description of Drago, had pulled him atop a Warg and away from the battlefield. Followed by most of the remaining orcs.

The peace that had followed the battle was only interrupted by stories of huge beastlike footprints hunters had found in the nearby forest. And hearing rumors about floating ghost eyes in the dark, you were sure Akul was roaming around.

Happy tension laid in the air: the dwarven princes were on their way to visit Dale for the first time in months. Your tension was not one of happiness though. There was no fault in your mind, that the prince must have seen you that fateful day. He would now that you were no former slave. And then the little freedom you had gained would end in death or jail.

A sigh left your throat.

“(y/n).”, one of the old village women called out for you, “Where are you going? The princes want to see every female who was injured during the battle. That includes you as well.”

What have I done for the Valar to hate me this much?

With a groan you turned around. “I don´t feel well. The sun is hurting my eye. If they want to see me, they can come and visit.”

“Many of us have scars from that day. No need to hide away!”, she called after you and you wanted to curse.

“It is the sun. And if you don´t want me to puke my guts out right here, you let me go on my way.”

Not waiting (or caring) for her answer, you went home.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was late in the evening when a knock sounded from your door.

“You may enter!”

Just a second later the door opened and one single dwarf entered. Silence followed the sound of the closing door and you anticipated him to start the conversation.

“So it is really you.”, he ended the silence. It was the dwarven slave you had freed during the battle.

“Will you dkill me now? Or will you just call other guards?”, you sighted.

“Why don´t you turn around?”, he asked and following a bit of consideration, you did as asked.

“I see you were injured during the battle. I wonder how it happened with how protective the pale bastard was of you.”

“Azog was angry that I had led you go.”, you explained, “He slapped me and the next thing I now was that I had fallen into a river.”

“Why did you stay hidden?”

“Where did you want me to go? Back to the orcs after the only reason for me staying alive slapped me of a mountain? To the Dwarfs ? I was with the most hated orc ever alive. I would have end up in jail or worse. Into the wilderness? I think I don´t need to explain why that would have been an idiotic thing for me to do. Home? I am the sole survivor of my village.

“This is our luck then. King Thorin is searching for you.”

“Why?”

“To see the person that had saved his heir.”, the dwarf tried to reason but you did not believe it.

“Glad that he is indeed alive. But if that is the reason they surely took their time. Would they not have come earlier to see to me?”

“Truth is. I do not know the whole reason behind their search.”, the dwarf admitted.

“Then I will not come with you. Not without knowing why.”

“I could make you.”, he threatened, “But I will not. You gave me my life back. I will not take yours in return. Until we see each other again, Mabrotnosh.”, and with these words he opened the door.

“You just called me queen.”, you dryly laughed.

“I know. You might not be mine. But that is who you are. Who you became, if I like it or not. We are addressing that Elfking accordingly as well after all.”

“Never thought the two of us would have something in common.”, you mumbled, and when you cast your attention back to your guest, you noticed him gone.

Better get ready for the next visitors. They might be my last.

Part 15

Permanent:

@jadepc​ @pacifyhxlsey​ @thankyoukarenclifford​

@thankyouforanonymity​  @punkrockhufflefluff​

@scarletraine @buckycaptspideypool  @markusstraya @graveyard-groupie @markusstrayya   @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

@marshyrebelcloud

@marshyrebelcloud

Why Licking:

@pekusofixus @silverclawz  @lasswarrior @ @meziah-48

Please reblog with a comment, send me an ask/PM or comment on this fic .

Feedback is always appreciated ;P

~Maggy