#and bilbo gives almost the same response..........

[fantasyinallforms]

Let's talk about this scene. It's one of the most popular, and the writers and actors knew exactly what they were doing when they filmed it. This is going to be a LONG, long post because I will be breaking down and analyzing looks as well as dialog. Don't worry, I will add in a cut! Let's start with the look on Bilbo's face. Specifically, I've slowed the GIF down so you can get a good look at his face.

Bilbo stated quite clearly to Gandalf the night before this that he was not afraid of Thorin, but he is not so naive as to think that he will stay in Thorin's good graces after this. Hitched breath, sluggish movement, rapid blinking, and a look of dread on his face. This is a funeral march for whatever future might have been brewing over the course of the journey.

Thorin, by comparison, is almost slow to comprehend. There is doubt about what he is hearing written all over his features. He shakes his head and says "you" like he expected to turn around and see someone else standing there using Bilbo's voice. What I really want to get at is the conversation right after. Because it's always struck me that Thorin and Bilbo are not having the same conversation with each other.

"I took it as my fourteenth share," followed immediately by "You would steal from me?"

Now, it's, of course, important to note that Thorin is at peak dragon sickness at the moment and not in his right mind. That said, Bilbo stealing something from him was truly the last thing he could have possibly imagined happening. He suspected his kin less than a day ago but never Bilbo. I've said this in a previous deep dive, but the way that the dragon sickness reconciled Thorin's love for Bilbo and the gold was to place them in the same category. You don't expect what is entirely yours to be capable of theft. We're going to skip ahead slightly in the next GIF.

Ok, so this is where we start to see the conversation diverge. Bilbo says, "Steal from you? No, no. I'm a burglar, but I like to think I'm an honest one." Clearly trying to articulate to Thorin and the entire company that he didn't do this as a betrayal or out of greed. Thorin's response is chilling and very telling.

In the first GIF, I have no subtitles because I want you to look at his face, not what he's saying. This is the laughter and smile of a madman who just had the last thread tethering him from true madness cut. He descends very quickly from here.

Now, "You have no claim over me" is a very strong statement. In his mind, the gold is his and bound to him in every way. Bilbo, after this, is desperate. His words are desperate, and his expression is desperate. But what's more heartbreaking is the look in Thorn's eyes. Like the real Thorin is trapped behind those pretty blues, helpless to do anything.

Then, finally, after all of this, we have the full snap. The final break.

"Throw him from the ramparts."

This single line gives us probably the most heartbreaking look in the entire movie. To me, even more so than Thorin's death. This is the true "end" the final break. Bilbo's head was bent low. He was willing to take the vitriol the hate. He understood where it was coming from and was prepared for it. But those 5 words ended everything. Thorin is gone, and Bilbo knows that now.

We haven't seen true fear in Bilbo. Not once. The closest we got was when he was about to charge an orc but even that was not fear alone. There was determination and resolve that colored his expression.

That last hollow look in Bilbo's eyes is properly terrified yet if I had to name this GIF I wouldn't name it terror I would name it

Loss.

[utilitycaster]

this might be a weird question but i’d appreciate your take: do you feel like characters were made to behave in out of character ways to make room for bells hells and their decisions? like Essek going out of his way to reveal himself to save ashton (someone he has very little connection to), or Taliesin’s assertion that Caduceus believes that BH forcing the gods to become mortal was the kindest thing for everyone? Even the gods stared behaving in strange ways this campaign, at least to my eyes. Am I looking too far into this?

You are looking a little too far; I think it's case by case but for the most part, no, other characters mostly behaved in character within the bounds of D&D, ie, yeah on some level this always happens. A good example of this happening in an earlier campaign is if you recall a lot of the discussion of Yeza, people tended to call him toxically positive or too agreeable sometimes. And the thing is, he's an NPC and Veth is a PC and it's just the way things go, that Matt wasn't going to have Yeza blow up at Veth or leave her unless things went way beyond the pale because Veth is the character who makes choices in this format. [I do have thoughts about Party of NPCs that I should write up later because it's a big digression but suffice it to say PCs always get more space to make the choices; it was just more noticeable for Bells Hells because they then often didn't make said choices].

Anyway to go through the specific examples:

Essek? yeah, does feel kind of that way, though it could also be that he feels responsible for Ashton in a way - indirectly, the potions of possibility are due to his actions, and he does take his idea of atonement quite seriously. Hard for me to be a gut check on this one because I found the unwillingness to treat what could have been an incredibly poignant sacrifice as such the true "oh, this finale and campaign are not good" point of no return, honestly.

With the exception of the gods leaving by lottery, apparently, and not by actual character and personality, which did not come into play in the game, thankfully, I felt them to be pretty in character! The Dawnfather is both life-giving and sustaining and also deeply harsh, not unlike the sun, and Ayden specifically was an aspect of the Dawnfather more capable of forgiveness than his entire self. The Raven Queen was, frankly, more of the main character in the end to me than Bells Hells, but I think was played excellently throughout. I think bringing in Abu without direction was a terrible DM-ing choice on Matt's part in terms of the overall story having a coherent arc, but I found Abu's interpretation of the Arch Heart to be incredibly well-played. The Wildmother scene with Orym could have easily been a scene with Fjord or Caduceus in Campaign 2. Honestly, the Prime Deities come off as far more compelling and sympathetic than Bells Hells in this story, half the time, and I think they are consistently played.

I think Caduceus would indeed find this to be the kind choice of the ones they were given. I think it is! And I'm going to leave bullet point mode to again quickly cover why I think Campaign 3 failed as a narrative.

The problem with Campaign 3 is not the specific outcomes of the ending; it is how the narrative to get there was an impossibly muddy slog. Most of the endings fail to feel earned because outcome and action feel decoupled. It's like...if you're familiar with Lord of the Rings, imagine that LOTR was like. Bilbo's party was almost the entire first movie and everything about the ring and the formation of the fellowship took place in 30 minutes at the end. The second movie almost exclusively followed Frodo and Sam arguing about Gollum in circular fashion. And the third movie was more of that until the ending, when Aragorn suddenly showed up and startled Gollum, who had taken the ring, into falling into Mount Doom and then infodumped the entire rest of what happened. The same broad strokes of plot occurred and the ending is pretty much the same, but it falls flat because time was not spent on the right story elements. That's C3. Outcomes fine, setup piss-poor.

I think that the finale of C3 was a uniquely weak episode of actual play but I think that for the most part that was due to DM-ing choices that failed to set this up; people who think it was set up are people who filled in all the blanks themselves based on personal self-indulgence, because that was the core motivator of the outcomes in the end, an external self-indulgence. However, I think overall what happened was the kindest option of the ones we were aware of (personally I think killing Predathos might have been kinder, but we were not aware of it and honestly if the cast didn't watch Matt's fireside they aren't either, so I wouldn't expect Caduceus to be); the problem is that we had no time to see the characters consider it or be motivated by anything other than "I don't want to do anything that someone on twitter could construe as bad" or "fuck yeah I get to boss around the gods," and in doing so did something that people on Tumblr largely construed as dull and unrewarding and unearned. The characters were not at any point motivated by kindness, but they did stumble on the kindest option available/known to them for selfish or ooc reasons and Caduceus is only judging the outcome.

[scary-grace]

hey, if it isn't too much to ask, in the next few days im gonna go through some tough changes, could you share some fluffy hc/little facts about the characters in kairos? (love how my comfort fic is also the one that fucks ne up the most but oh well wouldnt have it any other way lmaokdnak)

I can give you some fluffy headcanons! Here are just a few:

Kili has a very hobbit-like view of birthdays, even before he meets Bilbo. He likes to give people presents rather than receive them, because the best present for him is everyone being happy at his party.

Bard's radio was a gift from his mom. He's been using the same one for twenty years, and he's able to repair it whenever it breaks, however it breaks.

Tauriel makes friends easily following the move to New Hampshire, but when it comes down to it, she would rather be with her family than anywhere else. She has grand plans of hosting a sleepover at the estate.

Thorin owned exactly one record before he met Bilbo, and it was Simon and Garfunkel's greatest hits, which was released in 1972. His favorite songs are The Sound of Silence and Mrs. Robinson, and his family has developed almost Pavlovian rage responses to hearing either one.

When it comes to clothing and decor, Thranduil secretly enjoys bright or rich colors. He inherited most of his furniture, but if he had a choice, he would go with whatever caught his eye. His preference for color also appears in his artwork. Left to his own devices, he'd probably get really into Impressionist-style works.

Thank you for the ask! I can do a few more characters as well if anyone would like. I hope your tough times go as easily as possible and you feel a little better soon. <3

[alleksistrash]

The Stone On The Wall

Chapter 16 of (?)

Previous Chapter:

Bilbo was sat behind Thorin, legs crossed in front of him when the group returned. Fili and Kili had begun talking louder and laughing as they approached the tent, making sure to give the two plenty of time to ‘fix themselves’, as Tauriel had put it last night.  They had filled Oin in on what they were doing, earning them a grunt of acknowledgement, but he had a smirk on his face all the same. 

Bilbo was too focused on Thorin’s hair to take notice of the approaching group, and Thorin didn’t want to make the effort to stop him. He was far too comfortable to care what the others thought, and only felt a small bit worried at the teasing they would receive from his nephews.

Ori and Tauriel were the first to enter the tent, despite Fili and Kili protesting. When they opened the flap and saw Bilbo sitting behind Thorin, Tauriel let out a small gasp. Ori squeaked when he noticed that Bilbo was still working through Thorin’s hair, pausing at moments to just run his fingers through the raven locks. Fili and Kili bustled their way in, with Oin hobbling his way after them, already giving them both a lecture on not being gentle enough for their wounds.

“Uncle!” They shouted in unison, causing Bilbo to almost jump out of his skin. He whipped his head around to face the group, a deep blush and scowl already setting in. Fili and Kili were both grinning widely at the pair, excited to see that their plan worked. They meandered back to their cots, brimming with questions. As they began to unlace their boots, Ori and Tauriel sat in the chairs between their cots. Ori looked bewildered, picking at his gloves as his eyes darted between Thorin and Bilbo, who was still working on the knots in Thorin’s hair. 

The king seemed unphased by the group, eyes still closed and leaned back against Bilbo. Bilbo was still red in the face, but his scowl had been replaced by a soft smile as he combed through Thorin’s hair with his fingers. It wasn’t until Kili broke the silence that Thorin opened his eyes.

“So, uncle, did you two have fun while we were out?” The brothers snickered, earning a disapproving eye roll from Bilbo. Tauriel was trying her best to hide her smirk, much to Kili’s delight. Ori looked as though he was going to die on the spot, taken aback by Kili’s boldness.

“Actually, we did. I absolutely ravished your uncle, sucked him clean off while you lot were gone.” Bilbo didn’t even stop working on Thorin’s hair while he lied, causing Thorin to go bright red with a snort. He grinned to himself at the sounds of Fili and Kili gagging and Tauriel busting out in laughter, only looking up when he heard Oin start to go into a tirade about how his patients needed rest. Bilbo gave him an incredulous look, letting him know that they didn’t actually do anything. He received a glare in response, and Oin continued on about how he would hurt Bilbo if he found any signs of Thorin getting worse. This earned him a growl from Thorin, who then received a bop on his head from Bilbo. “He’s just doing his job, don’t be giving him a hard time.” Thorin grumbled but conceded, crossing his arms across his chest.

It wasn’t much longer until Bilbo finished working through Thorin’s hair. Fully satisfied with his work, he moved to get off the cot. He made it up with a small stumble, his legs having fallen asleep. He grabbed Thorin’s shoulder to steady himself without thinking, looking up as Kili started snickering again. He rolled his eyes at the childish act, but was smiling warmly all the same. He was glad they wouldn’t have to fight for their approval, and was hopeful the rest of the company would treat them the same. He was worried about how the other dwarves from the Iron Hills would react, but decided that was something to deal with later. For now, they had to worry about getting everyone inside the mountain before winter came, which was already starting to creep into the camp.

Bilbo wiggled his fingers out as he stretched, having developed some cramps from working through the knots. He wasn’t going to complain though, in fact he was quite glad that Thorin would trust him to touch his hair. He thought about growing his hair out longer than it already was from the journey, only if it meant Thorin could braid it. He became giddy at the thought, already being swept up in the possibilities of their budding relationship.

Next Chapter:

[fellowshipofthefics]

Happy Sunday, Fellowship and Hobbit fans alike!

We’re pleased to announce the official timeline of our “An Unexpected Collaboration” event, as well as a general overview of what this event entails and what you can expect.

This post will be pinned to the FOTFICS blog until further notice! To see our masterpost regarding the blog’s purpose, discord, etc, you can find it here!

We’d like to thank everyone for their responses to our interest check earlier in the month and hope to see you all as we celebrate the tenth anniversary of An Unexpected Journey. We’d also like to take this moment to welcome @ahufflepuffhobbit to the FOTFICs moderator squad.

Without further ado, the important information regarding this new Hobbit-centered event.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Collaboration 2022

Creators of all sorts get paired up together to pay tribute to The Hobbit and the world around it. This means you can feature the characters directly from the movies/books in almost any way you want. What happens to Thorin, Bilbo and the company during the quest? What if they had met Estel in Rivendell? Modern AU? What about some focus on the White Council? If it has anything to do with The Hobbit (and some mild ties to LOTR), then we want to see it!

During sign ups there will be a place for “wants” and “do not wants”, we will compile a prompt sheet out of the wants which will be released to the creators after people are paired up. Pairs will be determined based on their wants and do not wants, so be as thorough as you like. Then the groups will have a bit of time to look over the prompts and decide on their top few to try and snag when claims come. 

Claims will be first come, first serve on claim day. More updates on exact times will come later.

Then it’s up to you, the creators, to do the story you want to tell. Everyone is following the same timeline (below), which means all works are due on the same dates to keep check ins and deadlines easy. 

Check ins will be simple - it’s a progress update, but please be honest with us if you feel you’re falling behind or need to drop so we can assign a pinch hitter as soon as possible.

Timeline

July 3rd: Sign ups open (SIGN UP POST!)

July 24th: Sign ups close

July 31st: Partnerships are announced and suggestion sheet distributed for pairs to look over.

August 7th: Check in #1 (make sure pairs are okay to work together, drop outs, pinch hitters assigned if necessary)

August 14th: Prompt Claims

September 11th: Check in #2

October 16th: Check in #3

November 9th: Final request for extensions

November 12th: Works are due in collection (But can be edited up until launch date)

December 6th: Works are released and @fellowshipofthefics begins to fill the staggered queue

The Roles

The roles are pretty self explanatory, but just to give a quick run down, this is what we can expect from each role you’re signing up as. NOTE: For the sake of it being our first year, it will be ONE project per person, unless there is an uneven amount or individuals drop out and we are in need of pinch hitters to take on multiple projects.

Writers: Writers are expected to provide a minimum of 1500 words - if paired with another writer, this is a 3000 word minimum project.

Artists: Artists are expected to contribute one piece of finished artwork for the event.

Creators: Moodboards, playlists, handmade crafts, etc, are welcome.

Pinch Hitters: If someone drops from the event or there is an uneven amount of sign ups, pinch hitters will be asked to fill in to help complete this event out. (You can sign up to be a pinch hitter only, or sign up to pinch hit alongside your main assignment.)

Some of the possible collaborations could look like...

Writer x Artist/Creator (Writer does the fic, artist/creator creates a collaborative piece to go with it)

Writer x Writer (Alternating chapters/one shots, different POVs, Different stories in the same universe i.e. Ori x reader in modern au + Thorin x reader as well)

Artist/Creator x Artist/Creator (Comic, Lineart/Coloring swap, two pics for the same story, moodboards, playlists, etc)

If there are any questions in regards to the information above or need clarification, feel free to send us an ask and we’ll get back to you as soon as possible! @lordoftherazzles (razzy) @sunnyrosewritesstuff (sunny) @ahufflepuffhobbit​ (robyn)​

SIGN UPS OPEN ON JULY 3RD AND WILL CLOSE ON JULY 24TH

[neostriatum]

ešretū of a burglar

[AO3] [Dreamwidth]

-

The hoard of gold is cursed. Bilbo looks at Thorin and suspects the Arkenstone is, too. This beautiful, thrice-blasted stone weighs heavily in his hands and he would like nothing better than to give it to another’s. Whose hands, he thinks bitterly, could hold the Arkenstone without breaking under its thrall? No mortal being, and that is certainly the truth.

-

It is one dreary day, nominally no different from the last, when Bilbo finds himself in conversation with Balin.

“If- if the Arkenstone were to be found,” Bilbo asked, refraining from cringing at Balin’s sharp, knowing look, “Would that help him?”

His friend sighed, “No. No, I do not believe it will.” They both looked at the corridor, where Thorin doubtlessly lurked beyond it, focused only on a symbol of his kingship rather than how much loyalty he already had from his Company, “Tis best if it remains lost.”

He watched Balin watch the air in front of them, face composed in the stare of one traversing memories no one could accompany, heart falling.

“Mahal help all of us, it will not help him.” Balin heaved a weary breath that seemed to rattle down his beard, walking by to pat him on the shoulder.

Bilbo remained rooted where he was, staring at the self-same green stone comprising the mountain, “Mahal help us all,” He said wonderingly, fingers drifting into his pocket, “Indeed.”

-

It was no small thing to sidle up to a brooding Thorin – certainly he had enough practice of it in Laketown, where thoughts of the mountain consumed his friend until nothing else had any room. But manage it he did, or else he could not call himself a burglar if he could not even steal but a moment of time.

They walk side-by-side across the hoard of gold for a while, Bilbo waiting for Thorin to be roused from his thoughts. Were his heart not feeling so treacherous, he could almost enjoy it.

“Burglar,” Thorin greets him, when they have reached one corner of the room and must pivot to avoid the wall.

“Master Oakenshield,” He replies gamely, his smile thin but earnest.

A scoff is his reply, but Bilbo knows enough to tread lightly. He stares at the gold, wondering if he’ll ever forget the sight of so… much of it. Instead, he sighs, almost wistfully, “Erebor must have looked beautiful.”

Thorin is distracted by his comment, and chuffs a quiet laugh, “Aye, Burglar,” The king turns toward him, all that focused attention on him instead of the hoard, and it’s a little dizzying, if Bilbo’s honest with himself, “Erebor was once the pearl of dwarvendom, a center of trade between East and West where all could gather and rest in its halls.”

Bilbo feels himself smile in response to the affection and takes the chance to start slowly drifting, trusting that Thorin would follow him while he asks guileless questions about the man’s home – it works, and he holds his countenance in carefully attentive repose. All we need is a cup of tea, he muses, and this would just be like elevenses in the Shire.

They’re slowly moving out of sight of the treasury and all its glittering, placating malevolence, and Thorin’s face softens with each step in boyish remembrance at the beauty of his home, voice a fond murmur as they traverse the dusty halls. Eventually it is only them, breaths reverberating in the silence.

Thorin’s face isn’t suspicious, not quite, not to the same carven veins of anger that lurked the same way Smaug did. But it isn’t quite the same loveliness that had pushed the pall of sickness away just moments ago. “Burglar,” the king intones, voice low, “What did you want? Truly?”

He inhales, heart unsteady, “Truly?” Bilbo wishes to sink into Thorin’s side, hide away from the legacy of so much death reeking and sneaking in this mountain, “I- I wish to give thanks. We have survived, and retaken the mountain. That… is no small task, and- and I’d like to be grateful properly.”

This king in front of him is melting back into Thorin, all sweet-eyed and awe-faced. It lingers between them, drying his mouth and making him blink away the emotion quickly. Another breath for courage, and he continues, “Surely there is a place for that, here?”

“Aye, my burglar,” Thorin says warmly, and it almost sounds like an endearment. A hand is placed on his back, branding as it guides him gently further into the mountain, “There is such a place, where we give our thanks to he who crafted us. Many used to pilgrimage there, and our inn was always full of well-wishers.”

Bilbo nods, wondering when his incessant string of gambles is going to run out, but nevertheless he leans into the supporting hold of Thorin’s arm. Were it another day, another problem, he would have more sincerely enjoyed this stroll through the dim corridors.

As it was, he contented himself with imagining what Erebor would look like with all of its glittering lights renewed, winding halls and towering columns bustling with life and laughter. With Thorin at his side, the silence was companionable now, and Bilbo could tell himself that it was because he was there with the king.

Maybe it had taken mere moments to arrive at their destination, or maybe Thorin’s hand drifting to his and nestling him closer to the man’s side folded hours neatly into minutes, but eventually they were at a gate. No mere door was this, polished silver inlaid with carefully-formed inscriptions and gems alike that likely told some story repeated to every dwarf-child upon their family’s knees, but to Bilbo’s eyes was an unknown, grave beauty.

A man, taller than any of the others depicted, was hard at work on an anvil, a forge so bright in colour that Bilbo imagined he could feel its heat alongside the smaller figures in the image. Both of them stood before it, taking in the sight. Its mere presence seemed to drop Thorin’s shoulders lower, his head bowing with it.

It wasn’t tense, this posture, but it was… humble. Something in the lines of Thorin’s shoulders reminded him of the guest who had met him at the door of Bag End, and of the eyes who had stared at him unflinchingly over the evening campfire for most of their quest. Were it another life, Bilbo imagined he could see the young man who carried the duties of his line with pride rather than grief, and suddenly he felt abruptly glad for this hare-brained idea of his, even as he burrowed deeper into this king’s hold.

This is a king I could follow, he thought, remembering Balin’s quiet words, so early in their quest that he felt like a different person entirely. They swayed there in each other’s embrace, madness seeming a far-off concept that only lurked in stories meant to urge children to bed.

The god of every dwarf, Mahal, felt warmer in his engraved image than the entirety of this mountain, one arm perpetually raised to strike at the metal held securely on his anvil. It was a sight that burned into Bilbo’s eyes, bright and clear despite his eyes being firmly shut and ensconced as he was in the buckled folds of Thorin’s coat.

Words were murmured above him, deep and rumbling like the mountain itself, and for a moment he merely sighed contentedly. “Mh?” He mumbled, flexing his warming hands in the wool caught between his fingers, “What is it?”

A laugh then, equally as quiet, and Thorin ran hands down his back to part them gently, “Thank you,” He said, smiling and clear-eyed, “I had nearly forgotten of this.”

Bilbo couldn’t help but smile back, feeling altogether like a puddle held upright, “Of course,” He replied, gentle, “Thank you for showing me.” There was a tap to his forehead, Thorin looming close even as his smile was closer, “I would show you the whole of the mountain, Master Baggins, if you would let me.”

His breath caught on a forgotten sob, hoping such a venture would actually become the truth, “I would more than let you, Thorin,” He said, “I would be there step for step.”

It was a moment that began to stretch thin, the hold of madness never lurking further than the pull of poisoned gold, and he watched as Thorin’s face shifted in remembrance of what they had briefly snuck away from. The warmth of Mahal’s image at his back was soothing, but scarcely so over the dreadful draft of sickness warping over the king’s features once more.

“You may be the only one, Master Baggins,” Thorin intoned, a frown worming onto his face, hands that previously restrained their strength now gripping firmly as the king straightened, “Be careful where you step in this mountain, burglar; one step could easily be your last.”

And Bilbo nodded, feeling his throat clog with despair as the king led him away from Erebor’s carefully-sealed respite.

-

The treasury, if possible, seemed even colder than before. Bilbo flexed his toes into the pile of gold and trinkets he stood upon, attempting to warm them and his heart to something above frozen. He saw that the rest of the Company was unaffected, a net of digging hands cast over the hall in search of something already sequestered in his pocket.

It wasn’t the only precious item hiding in his pocket, and he resisted the urge to squirm in place as he watched over the others raking through the coins. In a way, he was grateful that Thorin commanded he remain apart from the search for the Arkenstone – he wasn’t sure he could handle pretending it was a useful activity.

Balin was sitting off by a divot of columns, ostensibly resting his legs. Their eyes met across the expanse, and Bilbo sighed a nod, making his way over to the dwarf. Clinking coins made for an unsettling background noise to his thoughts, encouraging him to make haste.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Balin commented mildly, breaking off a chunk of cram and passing it over.

“Thanks,” He muttered wearily, settling down beside the older man and hoping he didn’t slide right down to the bottom of the hoard if a coin or two decided to unearth itself. Such stress made his heart patter, and he wasn’t sure how much of it he could take.

Biting into the cram, he realized it smelled vaguely like the ones from Rivendell, and he raised a questioning brow. Balin laughed quietly beside him, “You were the only one to take a washing in the river, laddie. We had repacked the last of it in some oilcloth at Beorn’s. It seems to have held up rather well, I believe.”

Experimentally, Bilbo rapped it against his knee. Limb thus smarting, he grimaced, “It’s well-aged.”

“That is true!” Balin grinned, “And all the better, otherwise it wouldn’t have survived the journey.”

He nodded, letting his gaze follow to where Balin was looking, the youngest of their group a little more merry than their own weary souls. Fíli and Kíli were holding up various objects for Ori’s inspection, the dwarf’s notebook open on his perched lap as the young man no doubt sketched everything held before him with the same swiftness as he recorded the events of their journey.

It made him feel old, all of a sudden, drained and in want of burrowing under the covers of his old bed to weather away the winter in peace. “They have much to celebrate,” He said quietly, “They’ve never been here before, have they?”

“Aye,” Balin agreed, smile fading but eyes retaining their warmth, “A whole new Erebor through their eyes. I am glad, that someone here will not remember the terror of Smaug’s desolation.”

Even Thorin, brooding as he was on his own pile of gold, frowned less severely at the antics of youth, guised as they were under the propriety of taking stock of the hoard. His heart squeezed at the sight, and he chipped off a piece of cram with his teeth, stomach growling.

They sat in silence, observing the others and observing the one overseeing it all. Bilbo sighed, wishing for the warmth of Thorin’s smile, “Are the winters very harsh here?”

Balin chewed on his own bite of cram, sliding a glance at him in acknowledgement. Eventually he nodded, hiding the motion in his beard, “That they are, laddie. These old bones remember it well, how we would close off the main gates and stoked our great forges to weather the northern winds blasting down upon us. I expect it to be no different this year.”

The cram sat like the ash most of this Company remembered half an eon ago on his tongue, tasteless and all-obscuring. Desolate though the lands around most of the mountain may be, there was still game to be hunted in the area – food that had yet to make its way into these halls, no matter how deft the aim of Kíli or how soft-footed Nori was.

Bombur’s enormous cooking pot had lain empty for too long, and a draft curling around his ankles froze his shivers into determination. They would be starved out of the mountain before any imagined enemy came stalking, and Bilbo had no wish to wield a shovel in the service of grave-digging family members so soon after the last. Two graves thus far in his life was two too many, and thirteen more would break his heart into fragments not even the most skilled craftsman could piece back together.

He inhaled, eyes dry and pockets heavy. There was one craftsman he had yet to try.

-

It was while he was convincing himself that he should venture forth into the deeper parts of the entombed mountain that Thorin caught him by surprise, wresting a gasp from the gentle touch upon his shoulder.

“Bilbo,” And, oh, he had never heard his name in that tone, softly rumbling apprehension that turned his fears into liquid. He turned, nodded for Thorin to continue, “There might yet be a war upon our mountain, and I would not wish for you to be unprotected.”

He bit back the daft, instinctive thought to reply with But won’t you protect me?, knowing it was a foolhardy venture at best, no matter how mended their fences were. Thorin was a king, and he… he was a hobbit. The two were nothing alike, and so he swallowed, looking into Thorin’s eyes and awaiting the next pronouncement.

A rare showing of hesitation made its way across the king’s face, subtle and fleeting and yet all the more precious that he was able to bear witness to it. “Thorin?”

Something in his tone must have trod over the silence, and maybe Thorin did hear the wavering, faint impression of his heart reaching forth and saying the My king? that his lips could not muster, for in Thorin’s hands was a glittering drape of chained metal. It looked so delicate in the other’s hands, and he wondered how such a thing could exist in this time, and how something so obviously precious had escaped Smaug’s notice.

It seemed not to have escaped Thorin’s, however, and it was held before Bilbo as if in offering, “I would know you are safe,” He murmured, “Please. Put it on.”

“What is it?” Bilbo breathed, shedding his coat and holding his arms out in acceptance as he wondered aloud.

“Tis silver-steel, as you would know it,” Thorin replied, hands as gentle as they were before Mahal’s image, setting the mail over Bilbo’s head and he could swear not a single hair was rustled in the action, “Mined by our forefathers, it is rare now, but was once the beauty of all who beheld it in our first home.”

The one you lost, Bilbo wanted to say, biting back the words the same as he bit his lip. The action drew Thorin’s attention as he was adjusting the armor over Bilbo’s frame with careful pinches of his fingers, eyes dark and encompassing. He was not quick to forget the story Balin told all of them, of the home of Durin that earned Thorin his battle-name and felled half his family in the same breath.

A woeful day, and yet here they both were, memories caught between them as a fragile wisp woven into what must assuredly be a strong material, for Thorin was never the type to cut corners on what he considered important. He caught the king’s hands before they could leave him, holding them close as his heart thumped.

“Thank you, Thorin,” And what else was there to say? Nothing, nothing in the wake of a slim edge of joy in the man’s gaze upon him.

He would do anything to keep that joy, and stoke it higher.

-

Mahal looked ever the same, and now, fingers threading uncertainly over the armor protecting him, Bilbo wondered if it was in fact every precious scrap of mithril that faceted their god instead of silver.

Silly me , he thought fondly, No dwarf would ever use less than the best.

He ran his hand down part of the door, feeling the coolness of the metal. It was rather like a river – life-giving, and strong. Perhaps that is what made him such a fitting spouse for a goddess like Yavanna, and for a moment Bilbo could fool himself into thinking he also heard the rustle of trees in the wind along with the perceived warmth of Mahal’s forge.

Home. It felt like home, and Bilbo felt his eyes dampen at the thought of what Thorin must have felt to have seen this after so many years. An enveloping sense of safety that beckoned him forth, and a firmer press upon the door had it swinging open on silent mechanism.

The inside was dim, removed as it was from the sunlight and bits of renovated lighting that showed through the main expanse of the mountain. Still, he found his steps sure, only the faintest traces of dust swirling around his feet in such a well-maintained room.

The love poured forth for Mahal from an entire mountain’s hands was prevalent here, with each chiseled word and inlaid image. He felt as if he could rest here for a thousand years, until Mahal’s halls emptied and the world, as his Company told him, was remade once more. It was a place of giving, and a place of receiving, so strange from the Shire and yet tended with as much care as a hobbit’s hearth and garden.

Offerings still rested upon the large anvil, set as it was just a little ways from one wall. There was a real forge, one that had gone out. Bilbo walked around it in search of some way to start it again – surely no offering would be received unless the forge was lit? This part, at least, was reminiscent of his home, the yearly bough carefully wrapped in ribbons and wishes to be laid in the hearth, sung into ashes with merry wishes for the new year.

A barrel, plainly-wrought and sturdy, was full of rocks that looked and smelled an awful lot like the charcoal Bofur had once described to him. Surely if there was a source of heat, there must be some way to light it? Alas, the wisdom of Thorin’s nephews would not help him here, nor would the pipe and matches laid in his pack half a mountain away.

Some inspection and dusting later revealed a lamp, and Bilbo squinted at it, wondering if it produced a flame in the same mechanism as the one his father had bought from a dwarven trader many years ago. He cleaned it off with the cuff of his jacket sleeve, muttering a short prayer and twisting the knob at the front.

A terrifying noise of sparking cloth almost made him drop the entire contraption, but the smell of burning oil was sweet and reassuring. It firmed his grip upon the wood-encased handle, and the new source of light flung itself across the room, highlighting more details to his untrained eyes. What sparkled dimly in the light was now a cacophony of wonder – what must be thousands of gems creating scenes of dwarven history, reading like a scroll across the expanse of the room, one scene at a time.

For a moment all he could do is stare in awe, turning slowly as his eyes scanned the unknown language and richly-illustrated scenes they accompanied. Everywhere he looked, even in the depths of remembered despair at the attempted destruction of the original dwarves upon Eru’s commandment, there was an abiding affection in every line. His shaking breath echoed back to him, the swaying of the lantern from the depth of his revelation making the scenes feel alive.

Thousands of years stared back at him, and the knowledge of how steadfast the endurance of dwarves were settled over him as surely as the feather weight of silver-steel Thorin had draped so abidingly over him. Bilbo nodded quickly, not sure if it was for himself or the people remembered upon these walls, and turned on one heel back to the forge.

Once his determination was found, Bilbo found it a simple matter to light the forge before him. Everything was arranged in a practical matter, and it was short order to shovel charcoal into the grate, a kit for lighting it on a shelf nearby. The rocks were their own brilliant and unusual colours, but his faith in the Company’s anecdotes proved true when the fire quickly started.

The fabric of his trousers was quickly stained by the charcoal dust, but it was no matter to him as he stood, roughly patting the worst of it out. No great thing happened, but he felt a sense of peace at his accomplishment come over him, anyway. It felt quite similar to lighting the great yearly fire in Hobbiton, something he had presided over as a Baggins for many years now, and his nerves tingled at the comparison.

He turned toward the anvil, knowing the general gist of what he wanted to do, but uncertain quite how.

“Um,” Bilbo addressed the anvil, or perhaps the room at large – and it was certainly large, wasn’t it? He sucked in a breath, remembering the warmth he felt at the gates of this chamber, and nodded firmly, “Hello. I- I would like to give you something, in thanks. For… for keeping us safe. And I would like to ask – if it isn’t too presumptuous, of course! - if you could keep us safe still. Please.”

The forge was warm behind him, and the anvil imposing, so he stared briefly at the ground in front of him. His feet, which before he always thought were quite normal and sensible, now seemed utterly out of place, covered in charcoal and other detritus. The disparity of the sight in such a hallowed place almost made him lose his nerve, but he didn't think someone as- as fatherly as Mahal would throw him out on his ear for the simple negligence of being a hobbit.

He stuttered out a laugh, shaking his head. It bolstered his confidence that this was the right action, and with a quick glance that the grand entrance was still closed, Bilbo swiftly removed the Arkenstone from his pocket and deposited it upon the anvil. Nothing happened, no utterance from above or a shocking display of might, so he let his shoulders down an inch.

“I- I know this is considered a sign of kingship, but-” Bilbo wet his lips, twisting his hands together, “But this is not the Thorin I know. It’s- it’s not the Thorin I love.”

The quiet admission didn’t bring the mountain down about his ears, so he figured everything was quite alright. It didn’t stop his hands from trembling, nor his heart from pounding, but he ventured forth. He had found his courage, after all, and its meagre supply was in great need right about now.

“He is quite changed,” He whispered, “I know he cares, about- about all of us. He would not have fought so hard if he didn’t. And I feel as if… as if we’re running out of time. For what, I don’t know. But I know the look in his eyes, and I don’t ever want to see it again.

“Call me selfish,” Bilbo shook his head, “But it cannot be good for him, this fear he has of betrayal. We all love him, we have all quite literally followed him across the land. I never thought I’d see past Bree! But he has accomplished so much, and I- I do not believe the answer he wants is the one he needs.”

He could not see the gleam of the Arkenstone from beneath its haphazard wrappings, and in this room he could admit to himself he didn’t want to. No matter its beauty, all he could see was the deadened glare in Thorin’s eyes, how it made him quick to anger and quicker to suspect treachery. Thorin was fearless, in the way kings in stories always were, and it made his heart break to see desperation seeping through and Smaug’s curse warping it.

No, the Arkenstone would do no good for Thorin, and he could think of no other’s hand but the one that crafted Thorin. He pressed a hand against his mouth, stifling the sorrow that hounded such thoughts.

“I will not dig another grave,” Bilbo said fiercely, “Not for him! Not for any of them!”

He beat his other hand on his thigh, struggling for composure in a place that held only him and history. The path Thorin was forging now would only lead to death, and it would not even be a useful one. Smaug’s words echoed in his ears, and he gasped a lonely breath, and then another, choking on them.

Whether he could see the Arkenstone upon the anvil was moot, now, eyes blurred as they were with tears. All he could see when he looked upon that stone was death, its light false in comparison to the very real, very warm forge burning behind him. He brought dirtied hands to his eyes, pressing harshly until the fear subsided, chest heaving with the effort of calm.

“Please,” He muttered, “Please. Save them, if you can. For I cannot.”

His thoughts were gently tumbling, like sand shifting under a footstep, sliding and uncovering the blackened tendril of terror that had gripped him since he had travelled through another mountain. It felt so out of place, a stark contrast to the sparkling of polished gems laid in reverence and stories woven with love. It took him more than a single moment to realize his hand was wrapped around his trinket of a ring, and a rush of cold washed over him.

“You,” Bilbo said aimlessly, feeling disconnected from himself. It could be grief, he told himself, of a future within eyesight. It could be, but he knew it wasn’t. His own voice was low, and it startled him to realize how closely it sounded to Thorin’s in the depth of Smaug’s thrall. Precious.

But was it? He realized he was scarcely better, and his hand spasmed over the ring, keen to release it but equally unwilling. I will not part with a single coin! and My precious… sounded awfully alike in the solemnity of this hall. He shuddered, stumbling forward on numb feet and unclenching his fist from its gnarled grasp before he could truly think about it.

“Please,” He said again, feeling almost like his hand had been severed and burned, knees weak from fear, “Please.”

Bilbo sucked in a breath, mind swirling, “Help me.”

-

Later, it could not be recalled what the tremendous noise was. Some said it was the mountain tumbling in on itself, but that was clearly untrue, given that it was still standing.

Some said it was some pall cast over the mountain by Smaug, a dying breath of revenge. But that was also untrue, given how fervently the Company swore that it sounded just like a hammer striking upon anvil, clear and true.

Others, if anyone asked, said it sounded like a curse breaking. Thranduil, in his march upon the mountain, had felt an echo of dragon-fire once more upon his face and then never more, an old scar contented to fade into memory.

Dain, many miles away and still en route only on the word of a long-lost raven of yore, felt the ground shake and his mind clear of long-held anger. He had spurred his army on faster, uncertain what he would find but knowing it was momentous.

Bard had no concept of it, save a comparison to the shuddering crash the dragon’s body made as it collapsed over his home and drowned whomever it didn’t burn. His heart lightened, and he knew to trust it, bow heavy on his back and mind occupied with the fate of his children.

The Company who retook the mountain, they… they could only watch, as Thorin stumbled where previously he was sure-footed, a pained gasp none of them were close enough to decipher, their king running out of the treasury with such haste they were compelled to follow.

It seemed there was no quarry to find, only a straight line between them and their destination. Deeper into the mountain they went, scrambling across stairs as if they were hills, following their king as he went where only he seemed to know. Only when they all happened upon the long-forgotten hall of Mahal did they tumble into a stop, Thorin alone unchanging in momentum as he swung the doors open.

Later, it is said, that Mahal’s anvil had created one more gift for the dwarves. Shattered stone, banished of its tempting glow, and icy shards of gold with broken letters laid upon it, lit by a simple forge and accompanied by a simple, extraordinary hobbit.

The “ešretū of a burglar”, they called it. A one-tenth tithe paid to Mahal in all sincerity for peace, out of a love their burglar later said came from the love he could see around him.

And that, they thought, was a good use of Mahal’s benevolence and wisdom.

-

Author's Notes

An ešretū is “the Ugarit and Babylonian one-tenth tax” (Wikipedia).

It occurred to me, perhaps because Tolkien had his own motivations when writing The Hobbit, that a reasonably simple fix-it would be to just... give the Arkenstone to Mahal (figuratively). It would neatly side-step the issue of who's supposed to own such an item, and reform the ideas of kingship back to pre-Arkenstone levels. Maybe it's an essay for another time, but who knows why exactly Thrór latched so quickly onto it. I'm sure a ring of power didn't help matters, and on that line of thinking I added the One Ring alongside the Arkenstone for similar reasons. Mount Doom the forge of the One Ring it might be, but it's still of the mortal realm - I doubt anything Mahal wishes to hammer on his own anvil would remain as it were.

Accordingly, dwarves probably have their own, thought-out culture in terms of their place in the world and how to navigate it, and I figure it was likely neglected in favour of Tolkien's personal opinions of a narrative and its worldbuilding. Most of my own worldbuilding places aspects of their culture further east, closer to Central Asia (where unsurprisingly, and coincidentally, a lot of mountains are). I figure something like Mahal's Hall has a religious function to it, where one can dedicate a prayer - that isn't at their own hearth - and make an offering. I like the idea of numbers having significance to dwarves, but at the time of this story I'm undecided which shape this room should have, so pretend it's something like an octagon for now.

As for the breaking of the Arkenstone and One Ring, I also like the idea that it's a Silmaril that's been buried beneath the mountain (and dwarves wouldn't know to avoid it, hence A Problem), so breaking it would also break whatever's causing it to glow from within and also its ability to sway the minds of whomever is around it. Bilbo isn't unaffected, but he has priorities of his own that make him also a reasonably good Ring Bearer - there's echoes of Frodo's difficulties in there, because I doubt Bilbo would be able to escape such a repercussion.

The broken letters on the ring is pulled from ancient Egypt, in that they had considered certain hieroglyphs inherently capable of evil and would "break" them by erasing a part so it would be rendered harmless. The One Ring is cold because it is, to my interpretation, literally soul-sucking as a mechanism for how it can both extend a bearer's life but also twist it to its suiting.

Bilbo's comparison to his own culture I drew upon the Yule log (Wikipedia) and Gävlebocken (Wikipedia), with some nudging around to make it more Hobbit-like. I can't imagine that Yavanna, in particular, would be pleased with more burning of wood, but alas if her husband can convince her then I'm sure hobbits can probably get away with it for particular occasions. There's also some obscure mentions to the Fell Winter and Bilbo's parents in there, because every character has their own history tagging along with them, and I imagine Bilbo's altruism has to come from somewhere.

[luna-writes-stuff]

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

Mixed signals, Fili Durin (platonic Kili x reader)

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

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

Headcanons, female s/o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- And that was when Fili finally decided to speak.

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

- And now Kili was confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[long-cosmos-overhead]

Hi, I really like your blog! Can I ask: "how will Haldir, Lindir, Thranduil, Torin, Fili and Kili behave if they fall in love with s/o, but She is human and does not know that they love her)) Sorry for my English 😅

Thank you 😊. Also don’t worry your English is perfect 💞

Thorin

First off he acts so kind and protective it’s definitely noticeable the way he treats the company compared to you but it’s mostly because he knows he can be rough around the edges.

He shares his stuff with you which was very very surprising especially since it consisted of his cloak when he saw you were shaking from the cold, his share of the food and he even tossed you his dagger when you were in a tight spot

You and Thorin definitely grew as friends but he also got frustrated as time went on you were human and didn’t understand that sharing blades and clothes was a thing strictly kept between family and lovers therefore you didn’t understand he was being more than friendly

Someone else would have to tell you what Thorin meant for you to understand his motives or if Thorin got really frustrated he would grab you and kiss you roughly to convey his point and feelings for you

Fili

He gets cuddly and sweet, Fili is usually a nice person to be around and he’s compassionate to those he likes but around you it’s like he’s finding a way to pay off an endless debt

He has definitely gone to Kili, Bilbo and Gandalf if not the entire company asking what stuff you like and how to convey that he really likes you or even just to rant about how much he loves you

He will cuddle you in a friendly way but deep down he wants nothing more than to call you his own you’ve both fallen asleep with each other before and that was the best nights sleep you’ve both had

A bit like Thorin he gets frustrated as time goes by and you’re still oblivious but he gets more desperate than frustrated until one night he can’t help himself and just straight up confesses he can’t deal with keeping you at an arms length anymore

Kili

He’s like an excited puppy constantly all over you, very needy for your attention, compliments 24/7, cuddles and not just the gentle embrace he full on tackles you for a hug, shares everything he owns in short he’s adorable

There’s also a fiercely protective side to him which can be rather scary to whoever manages to upset you and you best believe Kili with fight whoever talks bad or gets under your skin

It’s so obvious he’s crushing hard on you just the way he looks at you says it all but for some reason you’re still oblivious and he takes this as rejection and gets really sad when once again you’re just friendly with him

The way you finally find out that he really likes you is when the company tease him over it, you were sat right there and watched him go bright red then he admitted he really likes you and has for a while now

Thranduil

Very jealous this elf is more jealous than words could say he wants you to himself, he wants to call you his queen, kiss you, cuddle you at night you name it he wants to do it

He uses his position of power to his advantage, he often calls you to meet with him he gets very dependent or what would seem dependent on you he’s just making excuses and he gifts you with riches you could only dream of

Though you still don’t know he’s being more than friendly he’s persistent but he loses a piece of his calm and collective nature each day you treat him as just a friend

Eventually he gets drunk and tells you absolutely everything, every little detail is spilt he would’ve told you when he was sober at some point but his drunk self caught up to him and exposed his little secret

Lindir

He’s shy but that doesn’t mean he isn’t the sweetest person around you he respects you completely, gives you flowers, let’s you borrow some of his stuff including cloaks and a few things here and there

He adores you in fact Lindir would drop all his duties and responsibilities if you needed him for anything, he’s always the first one to help you and he even offers to take your workload so you can relax for a while

Lindir loves taking you to the prettiest parts of Rivendell to see your face light up or hug him as a means of thanks you really get his heart racing and in these moments he almost breaks and confesses but gets really shy at the last minute

Elrond is the one that can’t stand to watch you so clueless and unintentionally break Lindirs heart so he tell you how Lindir is feeling confident that you feel the same way too

Haldir

He’s actually a little mean to you elves only fall in love once but he’s never felt so strongly to someone before and needless to say you mess with his head you’re on his mind every minute of the day and it started to affect him

He always went out scouting with you or to fight with you so he could keep you safe but always kept you at arms length and sometimes you felt he pretty much hated you

It was no wonder you didn’t understand he had any sort of romantic feelings towards you in fact you were convinced he never wanted to see you in any circumstances but after a while Haldir came round and it ate away at him that anyone or anything could swoop down at any second and take you from him

It’s not until he begins to come round and realise he could well lose you for good that he confesses and shows you the side to him that’s been begging to show since he fell for you

[floral-and-fine]

Linger part 1

Beorn x female human reader

Summary: Beorn worries about the reader's safety shortly after meeting her and the company.

A/n: This idea is based on that deleted scene where Gandalf introduces the company to Beorn. I just love that scene so much! I'll probably write another part to this. And thank you @luna-xial​ for the help!

You jumped every time you heard the loud hollow thud the ax made as it connected to the tree trunk. Peeking through the window, you saw a beast of a man. He was taller than anyone you had ever seen before, with long wild hair.

With seemingly minimal effort, he swung the large ax again, splitting another log straight through the middle like it was made of butter.

Your body shivered, imagining how he could easily make quick work of the company if he chose. Not to mention, if last night was any kind of example, it would seem he wasn’t too keen on any of you.

The rest of the company were bickering about what to do next. They were all rather cautious or afraid of the skin-changer, and they had reason to be. The bear all of you encountered last night was large, fast, and fearsome. The man seemed to be the same.

It was no use listening to them though, they all talked over one another and they were getting louder by the second.

Instead, you focused on watching your mysterious host chop firewood without pause. Your face began to heat up as you noted the way his back muscles tensed as he lifted the ax again, preparing for another swing.

“There’s no point in arguing,” Gandalf spoke up, silencing everyone. With all eyes on him, the wizard explained that the company needed Beorn’s assistance.

“Now this will require some delicate handling. We must tread very carefully the last person to have startled him was torn to shreds,” he explained heading towards the door. All eyes followed Gandalf, especially at the mention of being torn to shreds.  “I will go first, and Bilbo, you’ll come with me.”

No one was envious of poor Bilbo as they all made room for him to get to the door.

“Is-is this a good idea?” Bilbo stuttered, his hesitation obvious about joining Gandalf outside.

“Yes,” Gandalf answered firmly. “Now the rest of you wait here,” he instructed. “Only come out in pairs, well Bombur you count as two, so come out alone.”

Just as he was about to head out through the door, he paused and turned back around. “Oh and Ms. Y/n, you will be the last to come out,” He added, facing you.

Your eyes went wide, but you nodded.

“Yes… That should be fine,” Gandalf muttered mostly to himself.

“Should?” You squeaked, but he didn’t hear you. He was far too preoccupied worrying about greeting your host.

“Remember, wait for the signal,” Gandalf warned one last time before heading out.

…

The rest of the company filed out, leaving you and Thorin as the last ones to exit.

Beorn didn’t hide his distaste as he stared down all the dwarves before him. A snarl practically formed on his face as his eyes reached the end of the line. However, his features immediately softened as soon as he spotted you.

Gandalf noticed the immediate change in their host’s expression. “Ah, and that’s Miss y/n,” he spoke up. “She’s one of our companions as well.”

You waved shyly at the skin-changer. Who slowly lowered his ax, setting it down beside him.

The giant man sighed, wringing his hands together. Beorn’s eyes flickered from you to the dwarves then back to you again. He was obviously mulling things over, trying to decide what to do with his unexpected house guests.

With a drawn-out sigh, Beorn walked past Gandalf and approached the company.

“You must be hungry,” He said looking directly at you.

“Oh, we’re starving,” one of the dwarves chimed in, but Beorn chose to ignore your companions. His focus solely remained on you, patiently awaiting an answer.

“A little,” you admitted with a shrug, feeling rather bashful over the attention.

With a curt nod, he ushered you forward, back into his home. Beorn gestured for you to take a seat at the table.

“Your home is beautiful,” you complimented, admiring the beautiful details carved in the wood. You didn’t get a chance last night or this morning to really take in the craftsmanship. There were a lot of fine details that must have taken a lot of time and skill to complete.

He gave you a soft smile but it only lingered for a brief second and was replaced with a frown as soon your companions started taking their seats beside you and around the table.

Beorn started placing food out, everything looked so delicious. There were various cheeses, fruits, nuts, and types of bread.

Your host made sure that your plate was full first, not trusting that the greedy dwarves would be considerate of someone as soft-spoken and kind as yourself.

He didn’t understand how you were a part of this company, how someone as well mannered and delicate was associated with such loud brutes. You didn’t appear to be a warrior of any sort, and you weren’t a dwarf, so why were you assisting them at all?

You observed Beorn carefully as he towered over you, despite his great stature and strength, he was cautious of his movements, and despite his obvious dislike of dwarves, he was still fairly hospitable. Being in his presence had you feeling quite small, not in a bad way, necessarily, in fact, almost as if you were made of glass with the way he treated you so attentively.

Holding a large pitcher, he poured milk in your cup first giving you a generous amount which you doubted you would be able to finish.

“Thank you,” you murmured as he moved on to the next cup.

After making his way around the table and back to you, he held the pitcher in both hands, looking down pensively as he shared what had happened to him and his people.

His story made your heartache, much like it did when your companions shared their story. Without thinking, you reached out placing your hand on his forearm in an effort to comfort him. You couldn’t imagine what he had gone through, what he had to do to survive, or how it felt to be the last of his kind.

When he offered his assistance to Thorin, you were honestly surprised.

Beorn provided provisions and ponies to the company in order to get all of you to the forest in time.

…

As the company started preparing the ponies for travel, you couldn’t help but notice Beorn acting apprehensively. He was pacing about, double checking things, and kept asking Gandalf if they needed anything else.

You approached him quietly clearing your throat to draw his attention towards you.

“Thank you for everything,” you said, smiling sweetly at him. “I know it’s not easy, dwarves might seem unappreciative and careless but I do think they’re grateful.”

Beorn sighed, taking your hand in his, his thumb caressing lightly over your knuckles.

“Must you leave with them?” He asked, his voice sounding rather defeated.

“I made a promise.”

“It’s not safe,” Beorn whispered, feeling how delicate the bones of your hand were and soft your skin. “I know what Azog is capable of…”

Beorn wasn’t quite sure why, but he cared for you, and he truly feared what might happen to you on this journey. He hasn’t known anyone like yourself to encounter an orc in which the outcome wasn’t death. He frowned at the idea, the unsettling image of the hand he was holding lifeless and limp appearing in his mind.  

Tilting your head you whispered his name, he had gone quiet but appeared to have something else to say.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, shaking his head slightly. “Is there nothing I can say to change your mind?” He asked, almost on the verge of begging.

“I’m afraid not,” you said, giving his hand a slight squeeze.

His expression conveyed his disappointment, but he nodded, accepting that you had to leave and finally dropping the subject. Slowly, Beorn led you back to where the ponies were and reluctantly released your hand.

Without another word, he walked back towards his home. He wasn’t good at saying goodbye and was struggling with the fact that you were leaving. He felt like he was allowing you to walk straight to your death.

Before mounting your pony, you took a deep breath and looked around one last time, really taking in the scenery, before leaving. This place really was beautiful, so serene and peaceful. Might be the last time you’re at a place like this, who knows what you might encounter next.

As your pony slowly started trodding along, you turned back to see Beorn, who was standing by his garden with a solemn expression, you wondered if he felt lonely out here alone with just his animals.

You wouldn’t mind visiting him again after this was all over, maybe spend a longer visit here, perhaps even help him out with the garden or the animals.

You waved goodbye, a small sad smile on your lips. He gave you a small nod in response watching as you and the company disappeared past the horizon.

He fought every urge he had to go after you. Trying to convince himself that you would be fine. You had managed to get this far more or less unscathed.

Beorn stayed outside, working on the fields and tending to his animals until his ponies finally returned. He led them back to the barn, making sure they were all accounted for. Lingering by the pony you rode, he ran his hand through its mane.

“I wish she had stayed,” he admitted, regretting that he let you go or didn’t offer to join the company in order to protect you. He gave the pony another good pat before heading into his home.

[rogue-durin-16]

HER HAIR

Request: may I ask for a kili x dwarf F reader? They first meet at bilibos house and Its like kinda love at frist sight for both of them and as the quest gos on Kili asks to braid her hair as Dwarven tradition of courting ? Tha k you for your time!

Pairing: Kíli x Dwarf!Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Requested by: @stars-shaped-clouds

Permanent taglist: @queenofmankind @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722

Warnings: none

A/N: the masterlist will be up after this one uwu. For those who sent me a request and it's not published yet, give me time plz I'm going through it lately. While the rest of the stories are on the making, enjoy this fluffy oneshot <3.

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Gandalf," Bilbo glared at the wizard the moment the knock on the wooden door was heard. "if this is another dwarf-"

"I will get the door myself." the wizard cut him off, almost rushing to reach the entrance. Thorin was already here so I wasn't sure of who was left to join us.

"Ah, Y/n." Y/n? That was a female name. I turned to meet my brother's eyes, which held the same confusion mines did.

Thorin stood up with a shocked face, somehow eager to welcome the newcomer, who was soon entering the already too crowded room.

"I was... not expecting you to join us." He murmured before turning to us. "This is Y/n, daughter of Y/f/n."

"At your service." after a bow, she took off her cape and handed it to Bilbo, who was soon besides her. "I am terribly sorry for the delay. These roads are a labyrinth."

She was the most radiant being I had ever seen. My jaw dropped, and I was left dumbfounded until my brother's elbow dug into my ribcage.

"Ouch!"

"You're staring." he subtly muttered. "Be polite."

"Sorry." I mumbled in response, looking down ashamed. Not for long though, but could anyone blame me?

When I looked up again, I found her y/e/c eyes fixed on me, and I did my best to hold back the silly smile that wanted to tug the corner of my lips when her eyes seemed to gleam.

"Is there somewhere I can sit?" she questioned, lingering his gaze on me for a moment.

As she turned to face Bilbo, I, as fast as lightning, stood up from my chair, almost making it fall back.

"You can have my seat." she gave me a kind smile at the same time as I heard Dwalin's snort and my own brother's muffled laugh, which stopped when I kicked his chair.

"Thank you very much," Y/n responded, "but I'm afraid it would be too difficult to reach your place."

"Sit here, I'll stand." Thorin offered, and Y/n accepted with a smile. A frown established in my face and I was tugged back to my chair my Fíli.

"I beg you, behave." he warned me.

"I'm behaving."

"Glaring at your uncle is not behaving." I rolled my eyes at him because I was clearly not glaring at Thorin, it just puzzled me that she had accepted his offer and not mine, I mean, it was obviously due to the difficulties to reach me but still, did he have to be so—

"Bilbo!" Bofur was the first one to run towards the hobbit, now unconscious, and we all followed him.

I was the latest to arrive, and Dwalin and Bofur were already carrying him to his armchair.

"Will he be all right?" a voice besides me asked, making me aware of Y/n's near presence.

"I hope so." I replied, turning around to meet her beautiful gaze. "I'm Kíli."

"You are then Thorin’s youngest nephew." I replied with a nod. "The troublemaker one."

"Oh... Did he speak to you about me?" I inquired, crossing my arms over my chest. "What did he say?"

"Only the bad things I suppose." she replied with a grin. "Maybe you can tell me the good things?"

I, sticking my chest out with a cocky smile, replied, "Well that would take us longer than you expect."

"Seeing the state of our burglar," she pointed at Bilbo, who was now recovering the conscience. "I think we may have time."

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

At some point in the night, we had fallen asleep. Thorin woke us up a little bit after dawn; I, reclined on the wooden bench under the window, her with her head and arms over my thighs.

What a pity that he had to wake her up too; she looked so peaceful over me with the first rays of sunshine falling upon her crown, making her hair gleam.

Her hair.

I felt a sudden urge to run my fingers through it, though that would be intrusive and inappropriate.

To my dismay, said urge stayed with me during the rest of our journey, but again, could anyone blame me?

The more I got to know her, the deeper I fell for her. She wasn't only beautiful, she was strong, wise, she had seen the world —even more than I had— for which she was extremely interesting to me.

I wasn't blind, so I had noticed she was fond of me, too.

Maybe I had needed Thorin’s help, to do so, but that was not the point, the point was that her smile grew bigger when I spoke, and when she laughed, her eyes traveled to mines.

The point was that she would have an excuse to sleep near me, and her hand would more often than not search for mine.

Not that I complained though, on the contrary, I pretty much cherished those moments.

It was thanks to those moments that I gathered the courage to ask her something I had never thought I would ask, at least not in that journey.

"The lass got you smitten, huh?" Dwalin commented with a chuckle. "What are you waiting for?"

"The right moment." I replied with my eyes on her while she helped Ori pick some herbs Bombur had asked for.

The moment had come earlier than I expected.

It was my turn to guard the camp at night, and Y/n was so kind to keep my company, despite assuring her that it was no necessary.

"—and there we had it, in front of our very eyes," she continued her narration, "the sea, the same sea that the elves are said to cross to never return." my mouth had stayed opened in awe the whole time. "the moon reflected its light on it and, Mahal Kíli, you must see it."

"Will you take me there?" I questioned in a whispered, already dreaming of seeing what she was describing by her side.

"Some day," she replied, her pinky brushing against mine, just like our thighs. "After we take Erebor back, I will take you there." she smiled and, without hesitation, she carefully tugged a strand of my hair behind my ear, making both our cheeks redden a little.

As her hand fell back on her thigh and her eyes averted from mine to stare into the horizon, I swallowed the anxiety flooding my body and made the question.

"Y/n?" she hummed, prompting me to keep talking. "Would you let me braid your hair?"

Her eyes widened and the blush on her cheeks intensified. "I— Uh... Y-yes." a beam lightened up her face and the night. "Would you let me braid yours?"

I nodded faster than I would like to admit and immediately moved to sit behind her, running my fingers through her hair before picking up a section and separating it to start braiding.

Though I was more than eager, I tried to do it slow, so I could extend the moment as long as possible.

DWALIN'S P. O. V.

I held back a triumphant laugh when my eyes repaired in the youngest of all, sat at the edge of a rock.

I kicked Thorin, who rested besides me, and then Fíli, lying a little further from us. They both grunted in response, and, when they opened their eyes and saw what I was seeing, they grunted again.

"I can't believe I lost a bet related to my brother against you." the young dwarf murmured, silently, grabbing his bag to give me the promised coins.

"One day." Thorin grumbled, doing the same as his nephew. "One that and I would have won."

"At least I'll be able to tease them tomorrow morning." Fíli mumbled to himself. "I will get up early," he continued before I could reply. "you will not win me on that too."

"Whatever you say." I assured, taking one last check on them.

They had now switched places, and Y/n was carefully braiding the prince hair. Despite the distance, I could appreciate the happiness in both their faces, and it made me smile.

[lord-of-the-queers]

So...I wish to hear the parallels.

OH IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED, HOW PLEASANTLY UNEXPECTED (/s /j)

Ok so I’ve seen too many posts comparing Thorin and Aragorn. I mean I get it?? But it’s surface level compared to Boromir and Thorin. The first is a given; both Aragorn and Thorin are lost kings. They’re also not the main protagonist (Frodo/Sam and Bilbo respectively) but they’re still pretty significant characters. That, and having dead parents is abt as far as it goes for me. (If anyone has any more im happy to hear them.)

However, Boromir and Thorin’s storylines and characters as a whole are so similar it’s crazy.

We’re gonna bulletpoint this bitch. Just off the top of my head:

Boromir and Thorin are sons of rulers. Now I know what you’re gonna say. “What’s Aragorn then, just some bum that everyone liked well enough to hand over the Throne of Gondor to? Did you not read the book at all??” Again, going back to the “lost king” idea. I know. But the thing is, Denethor and Thrain we’re still ruling over their people; a people that had once been renowned in Middle Earth for their might, majesty, wealth and knowledge but have since “sunken low” through some form of great catastrophe. For the dwarves of Erebor it was Smaug and the loss of their home and riches, for Minas Tirith it was decades of constant battle with the growing strength of Mordor. Both Boromir and Thorin lived through it (or in Boromir’s case, had been exposed to it his entire life) and watched their fathers and their people as this was happening. Aragorn has seen some of this, true, but it wasn’t as personal and the times when he did witness a part of it, he was really just a passerby. There’s emphasis put on the fact that the line of kings (of which Aragorn is a descendant) was broken well before his time.

Next, their arcs are very similar as well. Both, after watching the steady decline of their once might people, are made aware of a chance to restore it and end their people’s suffering. They go on long journeys trying to fulfill this goal (though aiding Gondor is more of a secondary goal in FOTR, it’s still a goal (Elrond, Aragorn and Boromir even vaguely make a plan in the books for Aragorn and Boromir to go to Minas Tirith, and it’s also part of the reason why Elrond agrees for Boromir to be a part of the Fellowship), and Boromir’s main motivation for even going with them in the first place). As the journey goes on, you can feel their sense of urgency to make it back. Thorin has a physical deadline, Durin’s Day, whereas Boromir knew the dire situation Minas Tirith was in and wanted to make it back to make sure there was even a city left to save. Although Thorin manages to physically make it back to his home in his lifetime, both die before their goals are completed.

Which brings me to my next point: their deaths play a big part in redeeming them. As we know, Thorin is overtaken by dragon sickness, which as we understand it is extreme greed beyond ones control. It’s interesting, because that’s also how we come to understand the effects of the Ring too. One could even go as far as to say that dragon sickness is like the effects of the ring, only less extreme at its end stages and being caused by different things. You see both Thorin and Boromir feeling the effects of that greed akin to illness early on in their journeys, and it appears to worsen slowly but steadily until the very end, when both seem to snap. Thorin does this by going back on his promises to the men of Esgaroth and being (partially but significantly) responsible for starting the Battle of the Five Armies. They even have a more personal episode with them and the main protagonist of their respective stories. Thorin, upon finding out Bilbo stole then gave the Arkenstone to his enemies, attacks him. Boromir attacks Frodo in an attempt to get the Ring in Parth Galen. It seems to be fleeting, because both also seem to snap out of it soon/immediately after. This also comes just before their deaths.

Once again, their death arcs are almost the same. Upon snapping out of it, they realize the wrongs they’ve done and immediately try to make amends, by stepping up and doing what seems right. Thorin does this by coming to the aid of Dain, the Men of Esgaroth and the Elves of Mirkwood, and providing much needed support. For Boromir, it comes by helping to search for Frodo. Then, by following and protecting Merry and Pippin. Both ultimately lead to their deaths.

When they die, they both have had time to think over their wrongs and prepare a sort of confession. In the books, it’s said Boromir was laying there dying “for no small amount of time” before Aragorn finally found him. Thorin was the same before Bilbo was lead to him. Then they give this final confession, stating their specific wrongs and begging for forgiveness. Aragorn and Bilbo do forgive them, and they give a final farewell before taking their last breath. Though both were tragic, they were crucial to their redemption.

Finally, their personalities are incredibly similar. (maybe it’s because of how similar their storylines were, who would have thought?) Boromir and Thorin are both very honor driven, having strong moral codes that guide their decisions. For example, in the book, part of what gets Thorin to not kill Bilbo is Gandalf reminding him of all Bilbo had done to help him get there the first place. I can’t remember specifics for Boromir off the top of my head, but I’d argue that it’s still very present in his character. Both have seen many battles. This links to their sense of honor. They also value loyalty. (This one is probably a bit of a reach, but they’re also distrustful of elves. I say this because of how Boromir is in Lothlorien, especially after Galadriel does her mental test thing with the Fellowship when they first arrive.) Both also are bound by a sense of duty to their people and their ancestors. You could say they also hold a deep sense of nostalgia and pride for the former glory of their homes.

Granted, they have their differences, but those dwarf (sorry) in comparison to their similarities. I should also note that this is just off the top of my head. I’m sure if I looked harder I’d find more. It makes me wonder sometimes if Tolkien made them so similar on purpose, or if it influenced his decision to change Boromir’s storyline from a traitor that sides with the enemy (like Saruman) to that of an otherwise noble hero brought down by an antagonistic element in the story.

But yeah. There you go.

[unsettledink]

Comfort (Re)Reads Recs

It's been a rough couple of weeks, both personally and just *waves hands around* you know, everything. I found myself going back to some of my comfort reads again and again and thought – you know, I bet other people are in serious need of that too.

So here's a handful of some of my favorite comfort reads across a bunch of fandoms. Most are pretty long, or series. Everything has a happy ending, but I like h/c so plenty have some hurt or angst on the way. I put the ones that have the most near that bottom.

For all of them I'd suggest looking at the author's other works too! And if you liked what you read, please tell them that it made your day a bit better. I'm off to do so myself.

Leader Of The Free World, @copperbadge

Marvel (MCU) - Steve/Tony, Bucky/Clint, 15k

Summary: Clint Barton's presidential campaign started as a joke. It didn't end that way, except for Steve.

Sixpence In His Shoe, @scifigrl47

Marvel - Steve/Tony, 100k

Summary: Steve and Tony should really read the fine print on what they're signing. Then again, some mistakes are not really mistakes.

Always Starts the Same, with a Boy and a Girl, lightgetsin

White Collar - Neal/Elizabeth/Peter, 21k

Summary: Summer, 1998. Neal Caffrey robs the gallery where Elizabeth O'Dell is working late, and comes away with a lot more than art. Agent Burke has no idea what's about to hit him.

Take Me Out,    @setepenre-set

Megamind – Megamind/Roxanne, 10k

Summary: The Metro City Wolverines are the worst team in the MLB. So Megamind, using the disguise watch to manage the stadium’s illegal betting pool, is understandably shocked when Miss Ritchi (at the stadium on a ‘date’ with Metro Man…and his mother) wants to place a bet that the Wolverines can win against the best ranked team in the league. But then, maybe the luck is turning for all of Metro City's underdogs…

My Heart Comes Tumbling Down, @devildoll

Teen Wolf – Derek/Stiles, 5k

Summary: "This is a casual, adult relationship based on sex, and it is awesome." In which Stiles and Derek have a great time buddyfucking until a burrito ruins it all.

Technical Support,    @astolat

Person of Interest – John/Harold, 13k

Summary: The IFT Plaza security team wasn't what John would have called the brightest stars in the firmament. (Written for the tech support AU prompt.)

From Thy Bounty, @ibby-writes​

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 30k

Summary: Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Gift of Choice, @everysecondtuesday

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 11k

Summary: Tony Stark had a thing about giving Peter stuff.

Feels Like Something, Maybe It Fits, @learned-foot

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 7k

Summary:  Peter’s still not used to hearing that voice. Four months, and part of him thinks it’s a lie every time.

Better Than, unsettled (yup, it's mine. It feels weird to include it? But it was the comfort reread that set this off, so)

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Peter, 40k

Summary: Maybe there isn't really a fixed point where it starts, where any of it starts, nothing Tony can point to and say, there, there is where I made my mistake, there is where I could have stopped this, there is where I can stop it from happening again. Maybe it shouldn’t have been something Tony tried to stop. (or: the one where Tony is going to be responsible for once, ok? He is!)

The Swear Jar, @allthemarvelousrage

Marvel (MCU) – Clint/Laura/Tony, 12k

Summary: In the last three months, she’s seen Tony go through a lot of mood changes and shifts of introspection, but she doesn’t think he’s ever been close to leaving. Then again, she doesn’t think he’s actually aware of how intertwined his life’s become with theirs, because half the time, he’s exhausted from Avengers business or exhausted from engineering binges, and the other half of the time, he’s either trading one-liners and witticisms with Clint or coloring with Lila or building things with Cooper or letting Nathan crawl all over him.

This, You Protect, @vmohlere

Marvel (MCU) - Steve/Bucky, 64k

Summary: The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

have you heard, peradi

Star Wars - Finn/Poe, Finn/Poe/Rey, 42k

Summary: "I heard FN-2187 was a Stormtrooper."

Transfigurations, Resonant

Harry Potter – Harry/Draco, 71k

Summary: Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

Something Blue, Lapin

The Hobbit – Bilbo/Thorin, 34k

Summary: Thorin marries Bilbo after the Battle of Five Armies, a marriage of convenience, not love. Slowly, they must come to make the best of it, Bilbo resolves. After all, he's a Hobbit. They make the best of things.

Nothing Gold Can Stay,  @bilboo

The Hobbit – Bilbo/Thorin, 296k

Summary: Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

Like a Comet Streaming On, @sineala

Marvel (616)– Tony/Steve, 32k

Summary: Tony escapes Afghanistan with a functioning Iron Man suit and a perfectly normal heart. He even manages to bring Ho Yinsen home safely at his side. But he may as well have lost everything... because his wolfbrother is dead. Six months later, the Avengers find Captain America, frozen in ice, miraculously alive. Everything and everyone Steve has ever known is gone -- except his wolfsister, the recipient of the lupine version of the super-soldier serum, who was frozen in his arms. Tony has everything but his wolf. Steve has only his wolf. This is how their lives fit together.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare, @firethesound

Harry Potter – Harry/Draco, 149k

Summary: Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

The End Where We Begin, @ingu

Man From UNCLE (Movie) – Illya/Napoleon, 21k

Summary: Illya kills an American spy in Zurich. Three days later, he’s staring into the face of a dead man standing in his hotel room.

A man turns around., spqr

Marvel (MCU) – Tony/Steve/Bucky, 6k

Summary: Liver failure or a lone assassin with a long-range weapon will get him eventually. He doesn’t think it will take too long, now that he’s retired. He wishes death would hurry up. If happiness were coming his way, it would’ve gotten here by now. All that’s left to do is wait. Languish in the "later life" section of his Wikipedia page. Wake up in the morning and go to bed at night. Exist, until it’s over.

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Perception pt. 1

The Company x Reader

I’ve always had the idea that, while men and elves seem to like the slimmer built type of women, dwarves and hobbits like theirs a little more curvy/voluptuous (whatever term you like). Maybe it’s all the eating and beer drinking that makes me think that lol. Anyway....the human reader would be confused at first about why literally the entire company is acting like major show offs. But, once she figures this out she uses it to her amusement/advantage. There doesn’t have to be a specific pairing, or you can pick one yourself if you feel like it. ---middleearth2asgard

---

Fat.

Ugly. 

Pig.

These seem to be some of the favorite insults of those who didn't like you in your past life on earth. 

The stereotype that every woman must be and look a certain way, be a certain height and have a certain weight, has always weighed you down heavily; and while you often pretended that it didn't hurt you very much and you did your best to ignore it, at some point you began to believe those things. 

A person can only go on for so long hearing something before their beliefs change, after all. 

Obviously, you're not ugly in the slightest, for all people are beautiful when their lovely on the inside. Not to mention, physical attraction is merely something based on opinion. Ever heard of the saying 'beauty lies in the eye of the beholder'? 

In this specific group though, everything is a lot different. 

Not that you particularly know it, but for them you've got to be the prettiest thing around. 

Healthy is the way the see you, healthy, strong, and gorgeous, and that topped with you wonderful personality... well, they're done for. 

Not all of them, obviously, because some are married, unaware, or just not interested, but that doesn't mean they don't like you or anything like that. 

The first time Kili called you pretty, you got angry and told him to stop teasing you. 

When his brother did the same a few hours later, you became furious and refused to speak with them for the rest of the day.

Balin asked you why you were in such a bad mood that night, and when you explained it to him he only smiled and shook his head, telling you in a soft and understanding voice. "I do not understand how you feel of yourself, my dear, but please rest assured that they were not teasing you. You're lovely." 

Since Balin was the one who said it you kinda felt obligated to believe him, and so that next morning you sought out the sheepish brothers and apologized for getting so angry, though you offered no explanation to your behavior.

When Bofur called you lovely one afternoon, you didn't get as angry though you did deny it, mumbling something about your weight before riding off away from him. 

Dwalin's compliment of you was more of a gruff, "You look nice today," and it embarrassed you and only uttered a disbelieving, 'okay' in response. 

Eventually, you grew more used to the compliments given to you on your appearance, though you preferred the ones about liking your cooking or laugh more so since you could actually believe in someone liking that. 

Little did you know, however, that your reluctance to have faith in their praises has sparked quite a bit of debate amongst them, and rather quickly did an agreement to show you how lovely you truly are come to be.

Another thing you've noticed besides the constant compliments, is the boastful and swanky behavior of some of them (like Thorin's nephews, Dwalin, Bofur, Thorin himself sometimes, and even sweet Ori to name a few). 

Truthfully, you find it to be pretty funny. How they'll randomly challenge each other and walk around all big headed when they win one of those challenges, showing off their skills and boasting. 

It's pretty funny though you don't really know why they do it, and you haven't really bothered to ask about it either so... 

---

"Hey, Y/N!" Someone calls suddenly, capturing your attention from the conversation you were having with Gloin, "Watch this!"

You turn toward the noise and see Fili and Kili looking at you with matching grins. 

As soon as your attention is on them, Fili pulls out some bite-sized dried mutton and aims as Kili runs a few paces ahead. Fili throws the food and Kili follows it with his mouth open, catching it perfectly.

A bright smile spreads across your face and you clap your hands a couple of times, "Wow! If I couldn't do better, I'd probably be impressed!" You exclaim, unable to keep the confidence from your voice.

Kili's bright smile melts into a frown and he furrows his eyebrows, meanwhile Fili just raises an eyebrow and asks skeptically. "You can do better?" 

"I sure can. I can catch food in my mouth from almost any distance." You say as a smile spreads across your face, fondly remembering all the grapes and marshmallows that you've 'trained' with over the years. It's just a natural talent, really. 

"You don't mind if I put that to the test now, do you?" He challenges, pulling off another bite sized piece of his mutton.

Oh, he really thinks he's gonna psyche you out right now? You are so about to put this mans in his place. "Not in the slightest! Hit me with your best shot, pretty boy!" You exclaim rather assertively. 

You drop what you're doing and jump up to your feet, stepping back further a few paces. 

"Wait, you're going really far." Fili warns, looking at you in perplexity. 

"Are you afraid you don't have the arm for it?" You taunt, crossing your arms over your chest with a smirk quirking at your lips. 

His eye twitches in annoyance at your teasing, but he only pulls his arm back to show he's ready. "Well, you asked for it." 

You drop your arms back to your side and watch his hand carefully, and when he finally throws it and it sails through the air you keep your eyes trained on it the whole time. 

As it grows closer you adjust your stance and position, and then you open your mouth when it's less than a second away and...

It lands right in your mouth!

You throw your arms up in the air and cheer, chewing the hard jerky while everyone else looks on in amazement. 

Once the mutton is swallowed you smile brightly and drop your hands back to your sides, "I told you!" 

"T-That was astounding!" The blond dwarf breathes, looking over at his brother with the same look of shock and admiration on his face. 

Right before you respond a small voice in the back of your head whispers, 'Now they know how you got to be such a pig.' And the grin immediately falls from your face.

"No... it wasn't anything." You deny softly, walking back forward to grab your things. 

Your sudden change in demeanor is almost as shocking as the hidden talent you just displayed, and as soon as you walk droopily over to the items you discarded they began to exchange confused and slightly concerned glances with one another. 

For the majority of the day, you don't say anything else. 

---

That night when dinner time rolled around you hesitated to eat anything.

In fact, you fully intended not to have anything at all if it weren't for the fact that Thorin approached you and reminded you that you haven't eaten yet. 

Obviously, you cannot tell the leader of the group 'no' to eating like a petulant child, so you concede and get a bowl for yourself and, ultimately, give your left overs to Bofur despite him insisting that you finish your own food.

It was the same story the next morning at breakfast. 

You kinda poked at your food, had a few mouthfuls, then gave the rest to someone else. 

Of course, that didn't go by unnoticed either. 

---

After everyone picks up on your odd mannerisms and realize that there's something deeper going on, they end up having a conversation about it while you're out bathing in the river away from everyone else. 

"The lass has been acting awfully odd, recently..." Dwalin brought up suddenly while everyone settles in for the night, catching everyones attention in no time. 

"She has, but does anyone know why?" Nori adds, his eyebrows furrowing. 

Everything is quiet as they think it over, trying to find out what has changed. 

"Maybe the compliments are bothering her?" Ori offers quietly, his head tilted slightly to the side. 

Balin shakes his head a bit, taking a puff from his pipe before adding, "Yes, but she's always been rather touchy about acclamation and flattery. It has to be something else." 

"Well, after we bet her on catching food in her mouth is when she started being all weird." Kili pipes up, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Or at least, it developed more. She's never refused dinner before." 

Thorin listens along quietly, occasionally taking a puff from his briar while he too tries to figure it out. 

"Let's put all of our facts together, hows about?" Balin suggests, leaning forward a bit. "She refuses to accept compliments on her appearance, she expresses a skillset and shuts down, and she won't eat properly."

Once more there is silence as they consider the facts, and then Bilbo adds, "The food catching skill, right?" He sounds like he's onto something, and the brighter of them see what he's getting at. 

Balin nods his head slowly, stroking his beard gently, "Yes...," he begins, "Well, this is less concerning than I thought. I was worried she was sick, at first." 

Thorin nods his head, putting his pipe down as he leans forward and finally speaks, "As was I. It's still bothers me though..." 

"What? What bothers you?" Bofur asks, looking between those who seem to understand what's going on. 

"I don't get it either." Kili adds, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

"The lass doesn't value herself, my boy." Balin explains in a quiet voice, his expression grim. 

"Oh..."

"Well what are we going to do about it?" Fili asks, crossing his arms over his chest with his own pipe hanging from his hand. 

"There isn't much we can do other than show our appreciation and express our disagreement with her self evaluation." The older dwarf explains. 

Everyone nods, and at that moment they decide the best course of action is to prove you otherwise. 

[omgkatsudonplease]

[ficlet, bagginshield] all’s fair in love and war (bridgerton au)

If there had been days between the Great Smials Assembly and the Bywater Ball, Thorin doesn’t notice them. The sun rises and sets as always, while he goes on visits to the Tower Hills and the Elostirion, talking with the wardens who maintain the white towers looking out to Sea. 

He’s seen so much of Eriador that he’s almost sick of it, but he just needs to tough it out for a couple more weeks before the hunt season starts in the Ered Luin. They’ll be getting there just in time for the Firebeard Midsummer Feast as well, which will be quite exciting to see. 

On the night of the Bywater Ball, Thorin forgoes his usual coach and pony. The venue is within walking distance, after all, and the night is wonderfully warm. Other people seem to have had the same thoughts, because the roads are fairly clogged with ball-goers dressed in finery. 

The dance is down by the Water, not far from the Party Field where the season-opening ball had been. Thorin can’t help but chuckle at that, remembering Bilbo colliding with him while trying to avoid Miss Bracegirdle. Why had he been so rude? He could kick his past self for it.

“Thinking about our first meeting?” wonders Bilbo’s voice at his elbow. Thorin turns, unable to stop his smile when he sees the crown of daisies in Bilbo’s hair. 

“Where did you get that?” he asks. 

“Oh, this?” Bilbo chuckles. “My cousin Prim.” He laughs. “It’s not clashing with my outfit, is it?”

Thorin’s heart skips a beat as he takes in the blue-and-silver ensemble for tonight. It’s so close to Durin blue that it hurts.

“We almost match,” he says instead. “One of us is going to have to change.”

“You should try wearing red once in a while,” replies Bilbo. “I think it would be quite fetching on you.” 

Thorin huffs in amusement, as the next dance for the ball starts to play. “Dance with me, Bilbo,” he suggests. Bilbo nods happily, and Thorin takes his hand and leads him out into the crowd. 

This dance goes in lively circles. Bilbo lets him take the lead, spinning in and out of Thorin’s arms without a second thought. Each time, Thorin counts down the seconds until Bilbo is in his arms again, his heart still weighed down by the choice he has to make tonight. 

He has to tell Bilbo his feelings. He has to apologise for breaking their agreement. And he has to prepare himself for the possibility that maybe Bilbo is still pretending, and doesn’t truly love him back. 

Thorin is so lost in thought he makes a wrong step, colliding with the other couples in their group as he does so. Bilbo apologises on his behalf, smoothing over ruffled feathers without a second glance. Thorin falls back in line quickly, gripping Bilbo’s hands behind their backs for the promenade.

Bilbo’s gaze doesn’t leave his own, not even when the lanterns in the trees surrounding the Water begin to flicker into life, drawing excited gasps from the other revellers. In the golden lantern-light, Bilbo’s face seems to glow ever-so-softly, his lips slightly parted as he continues to hold Thorin’s gaze.

It’s not the first time Thorin has imagined what Bilbo’s lips would feel like. He’s certain it won’t be the last, either. 

“Something on your mind?” wonders Bilbo as he spins out of Thorin’s arms again, changing hands with their neighbouring dancers. Thorin chuckles, especially when Bilbo returns to his side.

“You have keen eyes, Master Hobbit,” he remarks. 

Bilbo laughs. “Well, your smile is a little sadder tonight, that’s all,” he replies, and Thorin almost freezes on the spot at that.

“Sadder?” he echoes. 

“You tell me.” Bilbo gives him a bracing smile. “If I were a betting Hobbit, I would say it’s because you miss your home.” 

Thorin chuckles at that. No, if there’s something he’s going to miss, it’s probably Bilbo. Bilbo and his eggs and paintings and wit and smile — every aspect of him almost perfectly tailored to what Thorin thinks a home should be. Happy. Full of laughter. 

(No magnificent stone pillars or fluted golden banquet halls. No fear of dragons or gold, and no grief over long-lost fathers.)

The tug-of-war between his heart and his duty is making his head spin. As soon as the song ends, Thorin makes his excuses and pulls away from Bilbo’s side, striding away from the lantern-lit venue of the Bywater Ball towards the Party Field and the stately oak tree at its centre. It doesn’t take long for him to seclude himself underneath its boughs, sitting down among the roots as he tries to catch his breath. 

He’s suddenly brought back to the garden of wisteria at Long Cleeve Hall, just before Bilbo crossed paths with him that night. He’d been cornered by so many inquisitive Hobbit-lasses at the time that he’d given them all the slip at the first opportunity. This time, the only person he’s running from is the same person he wants with all of his heart to run towards. 

“Thorin?” 

Mahal’s beard, thinks Thorin in frustration. How did he know I would be here?

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” says Bilbo, suddenly appearing in front of him, kneeling down a little ways away. “You did seem a bit peaked, and... and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t through some fault of my own.”

“No,” says Thorin quickly. “It was not.”

Bilbo nods solemnly. “Okay then. I know we have one more dance, but if you needed to leave early, I can make your excuses to the rest of the lot.”

“That will not be necessary,” replies Thorin, already rising to his feet. “I do not require your pity.”

Bilbo’s eyes narrow as he rises to his feet as well. “Well, pardon me for my concern,” he replies a little peevishly, and Thorin realises a little too late that his desperation to put some sort of kingly affect to his words has evidently hurt the Hobbit. “None of this is part of the charade, if you must know. I was genuinely concerned about you, because for some Giver-forsaken reason, I’ve come to genuinely care about you.”

“I cannot afford to look weak,” says Thorin, even though this is the weakest his resolve has ever been. With his figure silhouetted by the lights of the party, Bilbo looks not of this world. Ethereal. A true-life Giver of Fruits. 

“No one said anything about you looking weak!” exclaims Bilbo, now stepping closer to him, topaz eyes flashing dangerously. “I know most of your existence is putting on a brave face for Erebor, for the Shire, for everyone else in Middle-earth, but — have you thought — have you considered that maybe there are people out there who would think you even braver if you’d step back and let them worry about you for a bit?”

Thorin is briefly struck by the sheer absurdity of it all. This Hobbit is but a brief spark in the timeline of his own life, and yet that brief spark of his is all that’s needed to set the rest of himself aflame. 

And with that flame now burning into a bonfire inside him, Thorin steps forward and captures Bilbo’s lips with his own.

~~

Bilbo cannot believe this is happening to him. Of all the possibilities out there for how this conversation between them would go, he had not seriously considered kissing to be on the table. And yet, here they are. 

Alone. Together. Kissing.

When they break apart, the Dwarf-king’s eyes fly wide open, almost apologetic. Bilbo quickly disabuses him of that notion, stepping forward and pressing Thorin into the trunk of the Party Tree. Thorin’s hands come up to tangle in his hair, pulling him close, pulling their bodies flush against one another. 

This is everything Bilbo has ever dreamed of, and more. 

There’s a sudden pause, and then the world moves so fast Bilbo’s head spins at it. The trunk of the Party Tree slams into his back, the momentary shock bursting back into white-hot pleasure as Thorin captures his lips again, and then ventures away from his lips down the curve of his jaw, the line of his neck. Bilbo gasps, arching into Thorin’s touch, his hands tugging Thorin forward by the lapels of his coat. In the distance, the Bywater Ball plays on, and they are ensconced in the distant shadows of the Party Tree, mostly hidden —

Bilbo freezes. Are they mostly hidden? What if someone saw? His respectability would absolutely come crashing down. To be caught taking such liberties without a betrothal? Why, that was absolutely unheard of for a Hobbit of his pedigree! 

Almost as if in response to Bilbo freezing, Thorin freezes too, reality crashing into him just as quickly. He steps back from Bilbo, wiping his lips with his hand. 

“My deepest apologies, Mr Baggins,” he says, the formality of his words like a knife to Bilbo’s gut. “I did not mean to behave in such an unseemly fashion.”

“N-nor I,” stammers Bilbo, his heart still rabbiting frantically in his chest. He inhales, though the very act of it feels pained at the sight of absolute misery on Thorin’s face. “But I did enjoy it.”

Thorin’s expression somehow sinks even further at that. “As per our agreement, this courtship cannot go anywhere. Even though... even though...” His expression pinches, like he’s choking on the words he needs to say. “Even though I hold you in the highest regard, I still do not intend to marry.”

Bilbo wants to laugh at that, laugh at how un-Thorin these words are even though they’re coming out of Thorin’s stupid mouth. He wants to tell Thorin to take those words and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine. But instead, all he manages to say is:

“So you would sooner see the Golden Hare hunted for another season than marry me?”

“Bilbo.” How can his name on Thorin’s lips sound so much like a prayer, even when he’s in the process of hammering Bilbo’s heart to pieces? “You know that is not what I meant —”

Bilbo sidesteps him, stumbling back from the Party Tree. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” he replies, with an almost comical bow, “that I could not be of more use to you.”

And with the pieces of his heart still rattling in his chest, Bilbo turns away from the Dwarf-king and heads back towards the party.

[elles-writing]

Fun times ahead - The Company x reader - Day 8

Fun times ahead

Pairing:  The Company x reader

Warnings/triggers: none

Genre: fluff

Word: Cemetery – Day 8

Word count: 943

A/N: We’re over a half of this writing event, I can’t even believe that, I’m also really enjoying it! Thank you so much for all of your comments and responses, I always read them and I’m glad you enjoy my work! Also, I tried to do some research before I wrote things down, so I hope I got it right.

Tags: @dumbassunderthemountain​ @moony-artnstuff​ @artsywaterlily​ @trxblemaker​ @claraofthepen​ 

  It was funny, that of all of the places, you’ve ended up in Middle-Earth. It was a Halloween party, and you suddenly weren’t with your friends, but surrounded by dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard!

Well, at least I didn’t ended up somewhere alone, you thought. You shivered about a thought about an old cemetery. Yes, it could’ve ended up much worse.

They got scared when they noticed you, and pointed all their weapons on you. Thorin growled towards you something about telling them who you are and what do you want, and you, being shocked of everything that suddenly happened, could get out only a cry and motion your hands.

It was Gandalf, who told them to put their weapons down. Though Bilbo was hidden behind Thorin (who pushed him there), he was the first to carefully come to you (though he growled at him to not touch you, because who-knew-where you were from and what you were) and ask you, if you’re alright.

„A-are you okay, miss?“

„Are you sure it is a female?“ Kili asked. You just rolled your eyes.

„It doesn’t look like anything we know. It looks like a monster,“ One of the dwarves (you thought maybe Dwalin or Gloin stated this, but it was hard to tell) said. You huffed.

„Well, it’s just a mask! A costume! It’s-we celebrate this day this way. With costumes and parties,“ You were trying to explain. Your voice was trembling, because their glares (and weapons) and like, you were in Middle-Earth.

Thorin glared at you, not trusting anything you said, and you just sighed. You hesitantly pointed towards your face.

„This is just a makeup. If you would gave me some soap, I would wash it and prove you that I am a human, if that would calm you down.“ Then you pointed towards your clothes, which were black jeans, black tight turtleneck and a jean jacket. And sneakers.

„I’m not from this world, as you may have noticed already.“

It took a long talk of Gandalf and Thorin, and then almost the whole Company, before they decided to take you with them.

To be honest, you could overhear their conversation, because how loud they were, so you weren’t surprised when they told you that you can join them. You knew it was mainly because of Gandalf though, but you were quite glad anyways. You weren’t sure if you’d survived there for like even an hour.

Someone gave you a soap. You looked a bit down (they were taller than you thought) and noticed a lots of curly hair.

„I’ll show you where you can wash your face,“ said Bilbo kindly and your heart almost melted.

„That would be nice, thank you.“ You smiled and followed him.

He stayed there while you were washing your face, so you’d found your way back. When you came into the camp, you’ve overheard gasps all the way around you.

„Who’s this beautiful lady, Master Baggins?“ Kili asked from the other side of the camp. You blushed.

„It’s-uh-well, it’s me.“ You noticed how their eyes widened in realization, and you huffed and rolled your eyes.

„Told you just to give me a soap and I’ll wash the makeup,“ You murmed. A sudden cold voices made you freeze.

„So she is a human,“ Dwalin and Thorin. Oh boy. You slowly turned around and looked at them, then quickly at the axe and a sword they were holding.

„What else should I be?“ You asked. You’ve heard someone (perhaps Kili or Fili? Bofur? Balin? Nori? You had no idea) to chuckle.

Let’s say, Thorin was too majesthetic to deal with this guessing-asking-game shit, so you were probably allowed to walk away from his sight (or, well, it was safer to stay away).

You sat down with Bilbo and quietly talked with him for a while, about Halloween and all of that stuff, your costume and makeup.

„I got inspired by makeup that people do for Dia de los Muertos, which is a day, when people from certain countries celebrate a first day of November, when it’s believed the border between the world of living and world of dead is the thinnest, it’s basically celebration, an acceptence of a death. It’s a joyful event.“ You explained to him.

„Pretty strange,“ Thorin commented quietly when he overheard you from the other side of the camp. Kili, Bofur and Balin sat near you, to ask more and listen more.

„I got inspired by that makeup, which is called Calavera. I’ve been celebrating Halloween, which is on the last day of October, in my world, with my friends, and somehow I fell here.“ You explained.

„How do you celebrate that Halloween?“

„What is it?“ They started questioning.

„Well, nowadays it’s about putting on some costume or a mask or something and opportunity to be celebrating with friends. Though not everywhere it’s celebrated or it’s celebrated differently.“ You explained futher.

„I think that around the same time you’re celebrating a Durin’s Day, aren’t you?“ You asked.

„How do you know about it?“ Bofur asked you, but basically, almost everyone was questioning it. You took a deep breath, realizing everyone was listening to you.

„So-uhm-basically, this world is a...well, it’s a fictional place in my world. There’s a book and you’re in it,“ You shrugged your shoulders nervously. Their eyes widened.

„How do they decribe us?“ Fili asked.

„Well, not really. But you look much more different. You don’t have a blue cloaks,“ You said and pointed towards Fili and Kili. They looked confused.

Everybody looked confused. Only Gandalf didn’t.

You chuckled and shook your head. Well, now, this will be an adventure.

[luna-writes-stuff]

CHAPTER VIII

A Kili X OC fanfic

Previous chapter (main storyline) // Previous chapter (bonus + main storyline) // Next chapter

Tw: MORE ANGST. Thorin being a bitch, but that's kind of the main subjects now. Truly hurtful words. Stone giants, mentions of bruises and cuts, near-death situation, but you've seen the movies/books.

——————————————————————————

Let’s play two truths, one lie; 1. Raewyn carries a necklace for luck. 2. Raewyn could have been a great poet. 3. Raewyn might not hate Thorin that much.

"Be on your guard; We're about to step over the edge of the wild. Balin, you know these paths. Lead on." Thorin commanded, to which Balin responded with an 'aye'. "Master Baggins, I suggest you keep up." The leader remarked.

Raewyn had been right the night before; Thorin had been planning to leave just before the first light. Had it not been for Fili, he probably would've left Raewyn in Rivendell. With her foot restored to it's former condition, she would no longer have troubles keeping up with the company, yet part held her back as she watched Bilbo look back at Rivendell with a deep longing in its eyes.

"You'll come back here some day." She reassured the hobbit, planting a hand on his shoulder. She received a heartfelt smile in response, before the two continued walking at the back of the group.

Days passed as the company walked through plains and mountains, setting up a camp every night before leaving the next day, the moment sunlight hit the ground. Kili hadn't spoken to Raewyn ever since Rivendell. The only company she had herself, were Bilbo, Fili and, on occasions, Ori and Bofur. Bilbo walked beside her every single day, as she had been the closest he could find to Gandalf and a sense of security. Fili had been walking beside the two of them at least twice a day, keeping them company by telling them stories of his home or sharing information about old dwarven tales. Raewyn never did find the heart to tell him that she already knew them, and that Bilbo had already read half of the stories told.

Ori had joined her and Bilbo on a few occasions. At first, it was out of trouble keeping up with the rest of the group, but as he spend more time with them, he found himself asking questions about the hobbit and the ranger.

Bofur had only joined the pair out of his love for bringing cheer. Up front of the group, there were, according to the dwarf, the dull people, who never let him sing nor speak. Down the back, he brought a happy environment, although it had been for the hobbit mainly. Raewyn never did enjoy the awfully positive people, even though they were usually the ones who made journeys more bearable.

As Raewyn sometimes conversed with the dwarves, she could always feel Kili's eyes on her. Perhaps it was her dwarven stubbornness or her human pride, but she did not once look back at him. She had found herself immature for speaking about his uncle the way she did in Rivendell. It had not been remorse she felt, or even guilt.

On the contrary; she had let Thorin come off as reasonably kinder than she should have, but sharing those thoughts with his nephew, his kin, might not have been her best idea yet. It wasn't until five days that she realized that might have been the reason Kili stopped talking to her. Perhaps he had talked with his uncle, who obviously manipulated him in staying at his side, or maybe he just decided to give Raewyn the same treatment she gave Thorin, which he would be failing at miserably since he hadn't made any threats yet.

Whatever it was, it was starting to get on Raewyn's nerves.

The first day of silence, hadn't even been that bad. In fact, it had been welcomed and, almost, enjoyed. The second day, Fili had come for company, which wasn't the same as his brother's, but was appreciated nonetheless. The third day, Raewyn noticed her mood drop rapidly. Had it been the lack of cheesy remarks, or had it been the lack of shameless flirting attempts? She had never gotten any compliments before, but ever since the journey began, she had grown accustomed to them, which did terrible things to her self esteem. Still, somehow, she didn't really mind it. At first, it had been really weird and sudden, but after the first week, it had become Kili's way of greeting Raewyn. And, although she would never admit it - as she hadn't even thought of it that way yet -, she had begun to miss it. It wasn't until the fifth day that Raewyn decided to speak up about it.

"What's wrong with your brother?" She asked Fili, who was tracking beside her and Bilbo again. "He hasn't spoken to me in five days. He hasn't even acknowledged me when we switched for watch last night."

Fili smiled at her, before retorting her question. "Afraid he might not be interested in you anymore?"

Raewyn's face dropped, shaking her head in misunderstanding. "You know what? Forget I asked." She answered, now looking back towards the rest of the company, who had started to ascend onto the mountains.

Fili let out a laugh at her response, but spoke again. "I wouldn't know. I had the same question yesterday, but when I asked, he dismissed it and told me it was 'none of my business'." "That's not very nice." Raewyn mumbled with fake-sympathy, which caused the blonde-hair dwarf to smile at the woman.

"No, but if he doesn't want me to help, it's his own little problem." Fili said a-matter-of-factly.

"Well, it's mine too as I'm the one he's ignoring."

"I wouldn't worry about it." Fili assured, pulling Bilbo up so they could resume the road that had begun to grow smaller every step.

"When we were dwarflings, he once ignored me for two weeks because he ate the last of my cookies and he was afraid I'd find out." Raewyn laughed Fili's words, shaking her head at the mental imagine. "He'll come around. Whatever it is." The blond dwarf spoke, bringing words of comfort to the young woman. With his statement, the pair grew quiet again.

For the remainder of the day, no other conversations were exchanged, as they just enjoyed each other's company. Bilbo was the only one who occasionally remarked something or took the courage to talk about the Shire, where Raewyn had found much interest in. There wasn't anything exciting about the Shire, yet it brought her a sense of peace, knowing that there still was a small part of Middle-Earth that had not been a victim of hate, rage and war. At the end of the day, Raewyn had even trusted Bilbo with her own story of Eryn Vorn, the forest where the Ashas used to live. She told him about pieces of her culture and the language of her people. The hobbit had appeared very fascinated when she told him about the Clan of Six, even though she had left certain parts out.

When dusk began, rain had began to pour out of the sky, alerting Raewyn of an oncoming storm. Quickly stopping her tale, she pushed through the dwarves, reaching Thorin up front.

"There's a storm coming. We need to find shelter." The woman warned him, but all she got in return was an ignorant huff, not paying heed to Raewyn's warning. She looked towards Kili, as if silently asking him for back up, but when he remained quiet she turned back to the company's leader.

"Listen, I understand you care nothing for my words, but I can promise you this; wind and rain on mountain paths often lead up to heavy injuries. I know you want to quickly finish this journey, but it'll serve you little when the dwarves you lead are in need of medical attention." She stared straight into his eyes as she finished her last sentence.

"You don't give the orders here." Thorin dismissed, causing a quick wish of pushing a certain dwarf lord off the paths to shoot through Raewyn's head.

"I'm not ordering anything, I'm advising you something. If you are only half the king these people claim you to be, you would be wise to listen to my words."

When Thorin gave no response, voice spoke up behind him. "Uncle, you should listen to her. She's a ranger. She knows much more about travelling than any of us do." Kili stated, yet didn't look towards Raewyn. A moment of silence passed before Thorin made his decision.

"The nearest cave is ours." He spoke, alerting the rest of the company. "Stay together and remain sharp." A few grunts of agreement were heard as the group wandered again. Thorin looked towards the ranger in an intimidating way, though Raewyn did not appear frightened at all.

"I suggest you will do well to shut up next time."

——

Thankfully, there were times Raewyn did know how to shut up. The rain was pouring out of the sky and many dwarves had complained about the weather, but not once had the woman stated 'I told you so'. Instead, she kept her comments to herself and stayed beside Bilbo, which she had her own personal reasons for;

One, it would make her feel better about protecting at least one like-able person on this journey, and two, if she was to keep walking up front, she might have pushed Thorin off the cliff and at the moment, she could not deal with the negative feedback she would get from the rest of the company afterwards.

How long the rain had been washing over them, she did not know. The mountains and clouds left her unable to see the sun, therefor leaving her without a sense of time. They might have been here for mere minutes, or a few hours; there was no telling.

She also did not know whether they had already passed a cave or not. Thorin might have heard her warning and had perhaps obeyed, yet the amount of walking they had done between that moment and the raging storm right now, left Raewyn distrusting towards their leader. The thunder that echoed throughout the valleys and mountains left a defying sound, constantly startling the hobbit and several dwarves, but it did not usher Thorin to let the group get closer towards one another, something that Raewyn would have done. That way, it would've been easier to tell whether they had lost somebody or not. And combining this weather with these surroundings, losing a company member might not be such a crazy thought.

She remained silent nonetheless. Would she walk up to Thorin, he would dismiss her without a doubt, leaving her even angrier than she was now. And that was not a clever position to be in. So she stayed at Bilbo's side, occasionally dragging him closer to her while making sure the dwarves in front of her remained the same.

"Hold on!" She heard Thorin shout over the storm, probably speaking to the dwarves up front, who seemed to struggle with the heavy winds. Raewyn held onto Bilbo a bit tighter at the announcement, making sure he couldn't slip away.

But he did.

He took a misstep, getting his feet on a slippery piece, causing him to lose his balance. Raewyn quickly pulled him towards her, slamming him against the wall to ensure that he wouldn't fall off. She quickly sought his face for injuries, but when he only appeared shocked, she distanced herself from him and offered the hobbit a hand. He didn't dare say or do anything but accept the ranger's offer, as it was the only way he felt secured crossing the Blue Mountains.

"We must find shelter!" The leader yelled again. At the comment, Raewyn glanced towards the hobbit, her face in an exasperated look. The hobbit responded with forming his lips in a thin line, lightly shaking his head.

"Watch out!" Dwalin now spoke up, pointing towards a boulder in the sky that was nearing the group at a rapid speed.

Quickly, Raewyn ushered Bilbo behind her as she took a quick glance towards the other dwarves. The rock hit the concrete wall above them, causing multiple small pebbles and stones to fall down, crushing upon the company. Out of reflex, Raewyn held an arm above Bilbo's head, making sure none of the falling bricks would get to him. They got to her though. A sharp piece of rock cut her cheek in the progress, but she did not yield. It wasn't until the last pieces fell into the cliff that she returned her arm. Looking up, she spotted movement amongst the mountains.

With a sharp intake of air, she turned to the hobbit. In one swift movement, she reached for her necklace, which consisted of a strong leather rope and a remarkable gem; completely blue and shaped as a small owl, and removed it from her neck, placing it around Bilbo's.

"Don't lose it. It'll keep you safe." She commanded sternly, looking into the hobbit's eyes. "Safe? Safe from what?" He asked worriedly, searching Raewyn's face. Instead of a verbal answer, the woman's eyebrows furrowed in hesitance.

From the distance, they heard Balin shout. "This is no thunderstorm; it's a thunder battle! Look!" Bilbo took one step to the side, looking towards the spot Balin had pointed to. From there, he could see a large creature, hurdling multiple rocks towards the mountains. His breath subtly quickened at the sight as the dwarves took cover yet again.

"Well, bless me! The legends are true; Giants! Stone giants!" Bofur yelled.

The hobbit looked back at Raewyn, whose eyes remained on her necklace. "From stone giants." She answered his earlier question. "They won't hurt us intentionally, but right now, we're in between the giant and its opponent. It will not spare us as long as we are here." With those words, she turned back to the company, which was still staring towards the creature in awe.

"Stay together! Stone giants can hit large surfaces. The less ground we'll cover, the less likely we'll be hit!" The ranger commanded, urging the dwarves to huddle closer to one another. She grabbed Bilbo's arm and shoved him in between the dwarves, much to his own protest.

"Be careful with each step you take! Stone giants are impressive, but lethal nonetheless" With these words, the company began moving again, a slower pace than before, but much safer. As Raewyn remained at the back of the group, Bilbo was being pushed forward by the herd of dwarves. She assured herself he'd be safe as she slowly followed the company, making sure they'd take safe steps. That was, until the giant on the left side threw a large boulder towards the mountain they were standing on.

"Step away from the ledge!" Raewyn quickly warned, before the giant behind them stood back up. With fast movements, the woman grabbed onto the mountain itself, making sure she didn't fall off. The ground beneath them began to shake, the dwarves now shouting curses and warnings, moving towards the walls too. In front of Raewyn, she saw Ori struggle to find a hold onto the stones. When the shaking kept increasing, she grabbed the back of the young dwarf's shirt and pulled him against herself, ensuring his safety.

As soon as the giant they were standing on got knocked back, the ground split, resulting in chaos and panic amongst the company. She heard multiple members shout to one another, trying to stay together. The two giants resumed their fighting, causing multiple rocks and pebbles to fall down on the dwarves. The company had now split up thanks to the fight, ensuing much worry to flood across the group.

As Raewyn kept Ori next to her, she urged the rest to try to remain against the wall, and not walk around in order to jump across. Would one of the giants fall down, both groups would be in huge trouble.

But, of course, the moment this thought crossed her mind, a third giant appeared, knocking a huge boulder across the head of the giant het group was currently occupying.

The mountain began to shake violently as their platform rushed forwards at an alarming rate. Adrenaline started to pump through the ranger's veins as she prepared herself, sending a quick prayer to the sky. Ori was trembling against her, and for a first time, she couldn't find the words to soothe him. Instead, she turned him around, making sure Ori was facing the wall and she was facing the cliff. The hard impact of the walls clenching together caused the company to fall off. In a last attempt to calm down, she sought the group, trying to spot a familiar face among them, but time passed quickly and before she knew it, the group hit a harsh platform.

Silence struck the company for a few seconds. It wasn't until one of the dwarves let out a cheer of luck that everyone got back up. The ranger carefully rolled Ori off of her, who had a much softer landing than everyone else. Multiple rocks had come into hard contact with Raewyn's back when they collapsed, but thanks to her armor, bruises would be formed instead of scars.

"We're alright! We're alive!" Balin announced to the rest of the company, which had appeared around the corner. Raewyn slowly stood up, her back hurting with each movement, but she knew it would fade over time.

When her feet found the floor again, she let out a quiet sigh, the heat of the moment fading away again. Her breathing had grown heavy and her heart was beating rapidly, but at least they were safe. Fate had smiled upon them that day and she could not be more thankful. Her belongings were, surprisingly, still in place, meaning she hadn't lost anything. Seeing everyone up and standing, made her let out a quiet laugh, but she was cut short when something harshly impacted onto her once more.

"Thank Mahal." Two arms wrapped around her strongly, making Raewyn resist the urge to hiss when they came in contact with her back. Peeking over their shoulder, she could see Fili standing behind them, a tiny smile on his face. Drained off by the adrenaline, she tiredly reciprocated the hug, not questioning Kili's actions. She was grateful he didn't hate her, to say the least.

"Where's Bilbo? Where's the hobbit?" Bofur suddenly wondered.

Reality hit her like a ton of bricks, her breath now hitching in her throat. She had not seen Bilbo ever since she pushed him into the crowd. Anxiety filled her system, her heart rate suddenly picking up again.

Quickly, she broke her hug, her eyes frantically searching the group. She could count multiple dwarven heads, yet none of the familiar hobbit. Walking past them, she glanced over the ledge of the mountain. As her eyes scanned the dark abyss below, she was thankful not to see Bilbo dangling there somewhere. A silent sigh escaped her lips, but her anxiety had not yet been removed. Scanning the floor, she hoped to find something that belonged to the hobbit. Perhaps a bit of fabric or a form of footprints.

"He's here!" Raewyn heard Gloin announce. She ran up to him and looked towards the boulder the red-haired dwarf was pointing to.

"Poor bastard." She heard Oin say, his head already bowed down.

"The mountain must've taken him." Dwalin spoke glumly.

With a quick roll of her eyes, Raewyn walked up to the boulder, muttering something close to 'pessimists'. Getting a hold of the top of the rock, she tried to nudge it back. When it did nothing but create a small noise, she tried again, pulling harder this time. Little movement was made, yet change in position was visible.

"Move, you stupid brick." Raewyn mumbled, adjusting her hands around the boulder, preparing herself to drag it back again. When taking a quick look around, she noticed the dwarves conversing with one another while staring at the woman. A sigh left her lips as she focused on the obstacle in front of her.

"Sure, I don't need help." She whispered, already tightening her muscles.

With a final shove, the boulder started moving quicker, granting the hobbit the opportunity to slip out. Within a matter of seconds, Bilbo had crawled out of his spot, to which Raewyn immediately released the huge stone monstrosity. A few cuts has found their way to the inside of her palms and her fingers, but she ignored the feeling, looking straight towards Bilbo, who was clutching the necklace Raewyn had given him.

"I don't think it worked." Was the only thing the hobbit uttered.

A small laugh escaped the woman's mouth, a smile creeping onto her face. "No? You don't think it's luck that that boulder didn't crush you? Or that you didn't fall down?" With those words, Bilbo's face contorted into confusion, but he didn't reply to her questions.

"I thought we'd lost our burglar!" Dwalin spoke relieved, walking up to the pair and giving Bilbo a friendly pat on the back. One that nearly sent the poor hobbit into the mountain wall.

"He's been lost ever since he left home." Thorin suddenly countered, his brooding expression ever so prominent. "He should never have come. He has no place amongst us."

Those words were all it took for the ranger to march up to Thorin, her face now showing obvious irritation and annoyance.

"This never would've happened if you had just listened to me!" She spoke venomously, now standing face to face with the leader. None of them backed away, even though they both knew that this would, without a doubt, eventually reach a more violent turn. "Would we have done it my way, we would've been safe and you wouldn't have had to listen to my talk again! Instead you insist that your word is wisest, risking the lives of your kin; your family!"

Raewyn had expected a strong word from him now, but instead, he remained staring at her, his face not revealing anything. Would she have been smart, she knew she had to shut up, but she was fed up at this point. Rationality and common sense had been long gone.

"I can spoil this entire thing for you already, Oakenshield. There will be a time where you will be so close to reaching the mountain. And then everything will go downhill because you insist on making rash decisions! You lack all patience and honor. You would risk the lives of those who chose to follow you; those who believe you will change the world for them. You don't care about them. You only care about your own goddamn throne!" The woman opened her mouth to speak again, but Fili had already dragged her back, creating a bigger space between the two hostilities. She tried to slap his arms off, but his grip remained iron, barely budging for the woman.

Thorin had remained surprisingly calm the whole conversation, but the small tic under his eyes revealed himself to Raewyn. "When we leave these mountains, you will be on your own, Asha." Her eyes widened in wonder and disrespect.

"That's it? You won't even defend yourself?" She asked, a surprised laugh leaving her lips with her words.

"A king doesn't need to explain himself to people like you." Thorin stated, his face as stoic as ever. Raewyn's eyebrows furrowed in something that almost seemed like loss. "So, you'll go down that road?" She quietly mumbled. "I wonder how long your reign will last until the people will rebel."

"Unlike you, my people will know what is best for them!" He roared, stepping towards the woman violently, but Fili was quicker to shove the woman back and place himself in front of her. Not necessarily to protect her, but more so to ensure no more bloodshed.

"Death? That's what's best for them? Because that is what you will bring them, Oakenshield. Fire and death. And you will feel no remorse, for you are safe on your throne inside the mountain."

That did something to the lost king. He pushed his nephew aside and stood in front of the ranger's face. Both of them held their head high, nothing on their faces but anger. Raewyn had expected for him to shout at her, perhaps even lash out towards to her, yet he didn't.

Instead he did something the woman would have never expected from him. He leaned in closer, almost taunting her with his daring eyes, and with a low and quiet voice, he spoke words that she should have killed him for on the spot.

"I should have killed your father on that battlefield." The woman's face fell for a quick second, her eyes suddenly holding a deep emotion of grief and sorrow, but is was quickly replaced with more anger and venom when noticed the satisfied look on Thorin's face.

"You already did."

——

"Looks safe enough." Dwalin spoke upon entering the nearest cave.

Raewyn had stayed with Bilbo at the back of the company, not truly feeling the need for social interaction anymore. Not that she did before the whole stone giant debacle, but at the moment, she was not in the right frame of mind to talk to anyone. Bilbo had stood beside her, that much was true, but he made no effort to speak to the woman. It was obvious she needed to be alone and he would grant her that opportunity as much as he could.

"Search to the back. Caves in mountains are seldom unoccupied." Thorin commanded, following the dwarf's lead. Dwalin walked around in the cave for a short while, making the company halt outside. Fili had been keeping a closer eye on Thorin as Kili's gaze kept wandering from his brother's to Raewyn. She knew he had been watching, but she had too caught up in her head, Thorin's words taunting her with every thought. She ignored his eyes, instead, looking at the empty ravine in front of her.

"There's nothing here." Dwalin concluded, walking out of the, ushering the company in. Gloin threw down the wood he had collected during the travels, rubbing his hands excitedly.

"Right then. Let's get a fire started." He announced, but he was quickly stopped by the leader of the company.

"No, no fires. Not in this place." Thorin decided. "Get some sleep." He told the company. "We start at first light."

"We were to wait in the mountains until Gandalf joined us. That was the plan!" Balin defended, confused by his leader's words. Yet, as Thorin shot the older dwarf, he quickly shut up. "Plans change." The dark-haired dwarf concluded.

He turned to Bofur, who was in conversation with Bombur. Behind them, Thorin could see Raewyn checking on Bilbo, presumably making sure he had no injuries.

"Asha, take the first watch." He commanded, not sparing her a second look. Instead, he turned back around, trying to find a place for himself to rest.

When Bilbo was sure Thorin was out of earshot, he looked towards Raewyn's face, having to adjust his neck slightly, as the woman had been taller than the hobbit. "Why does Thorin hate you? Did you not give him your allegiance?" He inquired. The tension between Raewyn and Thorin had been nothing but visible the entire trip, and Bilbo, being the curious hobbit he is, had enough of it. In his eyes, Raewyn had been kind and helpful, and was willing to support everyone in the company, except for its leader. True, Bilbo had more knowledge about Raewyn's family than half of the dwarves had, yet this had been a question without an asnwer to him.

"I did not give him anything. My father did." The woman confided, her voice breaking slightly as she held his bead. "And all he got in return was betrayal. I would never be stupid enough to make that same mistake." With those words, she walked away, moving towards the entrance of the cave. As she sat down on a rock in the archway, Bilbo threw his bag off his shoulders, running back towards the ranger.

"But your father fought for his. He protected the family, did he not?" The hobbit resumed, standing in front of the woman, who lightly scoffed, removing the armor that had dug into her hands. "He did." She confirmed, setting down a leather glove.

"Then why would Thorin hate you?"

"Because he's an asshat." Raewyn spoke, her words not faltering once.

"That's not a real answer." Bilbo pressed. The woman shot the hobbit a glaring look. Not one of anger or confusion, a look that told the hobbit to stop talking. A look that silently told him to drop the subject.

But he didn't.

"What did you do to make Thorin hate you?" Bilbo questioned again. Raewyn shook her head, looking down at her hands, who were busy untying the wraps around them. "Nothing." She replied. "I did nothing."

"Thorin wouldn't hate you if you did nothing." The smaller creature objected.

"Bilbo, you're very likeable and clever." Raewyn began, looking the hobbit straight into his eyes. "Obviously you have figured out this is a subject I do not wish to talk about, why push me?"

"I wish to help you." He answered honestly. Raewyn formed a tiny smile at his response, but averted his gaze again. "You cannot." She assured, dropping her second glove.

"How certain of that are you?" Bilbo wondered, his head tilted slightly.

The woman rolled her eyes slightly, annoyance slowly creeping up on her. "So certain, that I promise you, the day you are able to help me, I will come to you."

Apparently, those words worked, because the hobbit finally began to shut up. "Now get some sleep. I don't think tomorrow will be better than today." Raewyn disclosed. Bilbo nodded silently at her words, now walking back to the bag he dropped earlier. He quietly pushed it over the floor, placing it closer to the Asha.

"I can't wait to be back home." He remarked, rolling out his blanket. "Don't you miss it?" He wondered, changing the earlier subject, trying to somehow find a way to talk to the woman again. "Miss what?" She asked, not having heard the hobbit's earlier words, too caught up in her own thoughts.

"Home." Bilbo clarified. Raewyn's face slowly fell, her fingers subconsiously reaching for the ruby ring around her pointer finger, fiddling with it lightly. Muffled shouts and pleas reached her ears, but she knew it wasn't there.

It was in her head. Again.

"Yes. I do." She mumbled.

"I cannot wait to lay back down in my armchair, in front of the hearth with a good book." The hobbit resumed, oblivious to Raewyn's shift in behavior. "What is your home like?" He asked, laying down in his make-shift bed, his head resting on his pillow.

"Home isn't a place, Bilbo." Raewyn explained. "It's people."

At those words, Bilbo's head shot up, looking up at the ranger in wonder. "If you find the wrong people in a place, you can't call it a home, but if you meet those who love you as much as you love them, you found yourself a safe spot." She elaborated, answering his unspoken question.

"That's a home. Somewhere where you can drop your worries. Let your guard down for once. Where you can go to sleep without thinking you'll wake up alone again." The last words were a mere mumble. Bilbo barely heard it. Better yet, he did not even know whether he had heard her correctly. He knew better than to question it now. He would not try to get on Raewyn's bad side. Not when she had warned him. Instead, he bid her "That's beautiful.", followed by a kind goodnight. He had hoped Raewyn would have changed her shift before he left, yet he knew he could not wait the entire night. He'd just have to be patient and hope for the best. All that mattered now, was getting the dwarves to sleep first. He'd deal with the ranger later.

——

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