#young thorin oakenshield

[mrkida-art]

Young dwarf Thorin

[basil--and--sage]

Uncle Thorin headcanons nobody can dissuade me from, part 2: young uncle Thorin

(part 1), (Dwalin)

during Dís' pregnancies he acts like a rock for her and her nervous husband, while he is secretly terrified when she goes into labour

he weeps the first time he gets to hold his nephews (and the 10 times afterwards)

he handles Fíli like a bomb in the beginning, because he is scared of accidently dropping or hurting him

after Fíli is weaned and Kíli is born, Dís and her husband have a hard time, since Kíli is a very restless baby. To give them some more breathing room, little Fíli spends the next few years in a sling tied around Thorin's chest and accompanies him everywhere. Thorin is more than a little sad, when this time ends, but fortunately soon Kíli is weaned and then Thorin gets to carry him around everywhere

he gives them cute nicknames. Fíli is his jewel and Kíli his gem.

he goes into crisis mode whenever one of the lads coughs more than once (fortunately Óin is very patient)

when Fíli and Kíli are small, they often climb into his bed at night, for example when they are cold or scared. It usually ends with Thorin waking up with at least one of Kíli's feet in his face or an elbow in his gut

he cuddles the two all the time and after little Gimli is born, he gets the same treatment

whenever all of them get together, Thorin usually ends up with three Dwarflings on his lap. (he found a way to stack them. Dís doesn't know what to think about that)

the only reason Fíli and Kíli don't call him adad is the fact, that Thorin would never claim that title out of respect for his late brother-in-law

when they are all of a sudden grown-ups, he sorely misses the time when they were small enough to sit on his knee or come running for a hug

he has a box hidden under his bed with his nephews' old things. He gets a little misty-eyed whenever he looks at their tiny baby boots. (one time he shows them to Dwalin, which ends with both of them sobbing. They don't speak of this afternoon)

he is in general a lot more affectionate and caring with them than on the quest, which is one of the reasons Fíli and Kíli are disturbed by his behaviour starting in mirkwood

[redfay]

testin a new brush w/ my young!thorin au

[pilkypills]

jewelry

[queerofthedagger]

Thorin, son of Thrain, Prince of Erebor

[mrbigpepperoninipples]

I DID IT I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!2!2!3!!!1!!11

Drawing from this post

[neil-jortson]

Alright y’all new fandom time someone give me the name of the long form rewrite of the hobbit where bilbo kisses a man

[morningnoodles]

bilbo: hey, has thorin been acting different?

frodo: honestly, i haven't seen him. what did he say, when you asked him what's wrong?

bilbo: uh...

frodo: you didn't ask him? sheesh. it is a wonder you're not a landscaper, the way you beat around the bush.

[osakateto]

Little Frodo with his gay uncles

[logicallyblind]

wait i’m going insane how did i not know frerin was only 48 when he fought at azanulbizar??? he was fourty eight he was just a baby i-

[thewarriorandtheking]

Thorin spam 148 / ?

[mrkida-art]

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

[babe-bombadil]

A Long-Lost Home

Summary: A short story of young Fili and his uncle Thorin

Written for @tolkienfamilyweek Day 3 - Extended Family

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,053

Read on AO3 or below

Thorin kicked off his boots and let out a huff. Winter was coming, and each day the trek from the forge back to the house he shared with his sister became more difficult. He shrugged off his coat and made his way to the kitchen, fully expecting an ambush from his sister-sons at any moment. Young Fili and Kili never seemed to tire of jumping on him as soon as his presence was made known, no matter how difficult his day has been. Eventually, Thorin had learned to accept the inevitable and humor them for a bit before relaxing for the evening. When no tiny arms were flung around him, he cautiously approached the kitchen.

On the counter sat Kili, his tiny mouth and hands covered in pink stains. Dis was furiously rubbing a rag on his face, attempting to scrub some of it off. 

“Mum, that huuuurts,” the young dwarf groaned.

“Well, next time maybe you ought to be a little clearer while eating. Or perhaps just stay away from the raspberry bushes altogether!” Dis gave a little shake of her head and dipped the rag into a nearby bowl of water.

“Uncle Forin!!” Kili screamed as he caught sight of him. The boy had recently lost his front teeth and Thorin had to fight a smile anytime his lisp made an appearance. Unfortunately, however, Kili hadn’t yet learned the value of volume control. It seemed he only knew how to yell. The line of Durin’s eardrums sustained continual damage.

The young dwarf reached his hands out to his uncle but before Thorin could lift him off the counter, Dis turned and shot her brother a glare.

“Oh no you don’t! This one’s not going anywhere till I get him cleaned up.” Kili looked back up at his uncle, big brown eyes pleading to be saved. Another time Thorin may have taken the boy’s side, but he knew there was no use provoking Dis when she was already in a sour mood. She too had the legendary Durin temper.

A frustrated shriek and the sound of something crashing echoed down the hall from the direction of the bathroom. Dis, still scrubbing Kili’s face, turned to Thorin with a sigh.

“Would you please go see what that’s about? Fili’s been in there half an hour, doing Durin knows what.” Thorin squeezed his sister’s shoulder and turned in the direction of the commotion.

Fili was standing on a chair and glaring in the mirror. An unfinished plait laid partly done across his scalp. Well, if you could call it a plait. It was more like extra knots added into already very tangled hair.

“Now, now Fili my boy. What’s the matter?” 

Fili’s words came out in a rush.

“I was trying to braid my hair but it was so tangled cause me and Kili were playing in the bushes today but I couldn’t brush it out so I just tried braiding it but it won't work and now my arms hurt so bad and-“ Fili let go of his hair and buried his face in his arms with a frustrated huff. Thorin felt a touch of sympathy for his nephew. He very clearly remembered his own frustration when first learning to braid his hair. He laid a hand on Fili’s back.

“I felt the same way when I first learned to braid.”

“You?” Fili turned large eyes up to Thorin. “But you’re good at everything, Uncle!” A gruff chuckle escaped Thorin’s throat. 

“Not at first I wasn’t. It took a lot of practice and patience.”

“But I’ve been practicing so long !” Fili cried. “And I’ll never get these tangles out of my hair. I’m doomed to be ugly forever!” Thorin couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth lifting at that. His two nephews quite enjoyed catastrophizing.

“Let me help you then,” Thorin offered. He reached up into one of the shelves and pulled out a brush. Starting at the ends of Fili’s golden locks, he gently worked through each tangle. Fili’s head wasn’t as sensitive as his brother’s, who refused to even have his hair brushed, much less braided. Still, he involuntarily winced a few times when Thorin pulled a little too hard. When the brush finally passed unencumbered through the golden strands, the elder dwarf set it down and began parting the hair. He separated it into five thin bundles and began braiding.

“Um, Uncle?” Fili asked tentatively. Thorin raised an eyebrow.

“Can you tell me some more stories of home?” Thorin paused and looked down, swallowing an unexpected lump in his throat. Fili hadn’t yet been born when the dwarves had fled Erebor. He had never known the kingdom under the mountain. Yet, he still called it home. While Kili often begged his uncle for tales of adventure and bravery, Fili tended to like the tales of the lost kingdom more. The home he had never known.

“Uncle?” Fili’s small voice broke Thorin out of his reverie.

“Oh course, dear nephew.” He took a deep breath. “In the kingdom of Erebor lived a great king…”

Fili leaned into his uncle’s touch as Thorin gently pulled his hair through intricate patterns. While he weaved the hair, he weaved tales of Erebor. He let his love for his homeland shine through the stories. He told of the noble king Thror, whose rule was so great that even the elves paid respects to him. He told of the magnificent statues carved of ancient dwarf kings. He told of the vast riches the treasury held, of the prosperity of his people. He described great feasts held in the mighty halls of Erebor, the sound of laughter echoing off the high ceilings.

He did not speak of Smaug, nor of the gold sickness that took his grandfather. He spoke not of the Pale Orc nor the mines of Moria. Those tales could wait. For now, he would speak of happier times. Of golden days spent in his grandfather’s halls under the mountain.

At that moment, Thorin made an oath. He had always known one day he would reclaim Erebor, but today he promised himself that when he did, his nephews would be right there beside him. The line of Durin would return to their rightful place on the throne, where they would rule for centuries to come.

Thanks to @psyche-the-ya-protagonist for being my awesome beta reader!

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Let me know your thoughts or personal headcanons!

[redfay]

little pic for my young!thorin au

[xxsircharlesxx]

Young Frodo: Uncle Thorin?

Thorin: Yes?

Frodo: How do you spell docile?

Thorin: B-i-l-b-o

Frodo:

Frodo: That’s Uncle Bilbo’s name??

Bilbo: *Thinking*

Bilbo: *Realisation*

Bilbo: Oh you cheeky fuc-

Meaning of docile: Ready to accept control or instruction; submissive.