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alleksistrash · 4 months

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The Stone On The Wall

Chapter 2 of (?)

TW: Description of Seizure

Previous Chapter:

They really needed to clear a way to get out through the front, Bilbo thought to himself. He stumbled a few times on the rocks leading down the mountain path, his body still trying to fully come to. If he hadn’t been watching his feet to see where to step, he would have noticed Thorin slightly turning back every time the hobbit made so much as a noise of annoyance. They managed to safely make it down the path, and started to make their way to the front of Erebor. It didn’t take long, and as they neared the bridge they noticed that most of the elves had dispersed, leaving a handful with Thranduil. Bilbo assumed they were his personal ‘security’, and took notice of the red-headed elf woman he had seen Kili talking to in the dungeons. His eyes were also able to help him see another elf that looked familiar, with a striking resemblance to Thranduil. He could also see Bard and Gandalf talking, Bard having dismounted from his horse. Gandalf turned as they approached closer, and smiled when he noticed Bilbo had joined them. “Bilbo! I am glad to see you are alive my friend, we were quite concerned when you fell. Bard and I were just discussing what had been promised to the people of Laketown, and any help they would need to repair Dale thanks to the dragon.” He turned to Thorin and Balin before continuing, “I take it you are here to discuss these matters as well? I am certain there is enough gold under that mountain for you to part with and still have enough to rebuild Erebor.” He leaned against his staff, looking down upon the dwarves with a mixture of light-heartedness and stern.

Thorin was glaring daggers into Gandalf, he knew he should keep his end of the deal but that didn’t help to soothe his pride. Before he could speak, Balin stepped forward. “We would be happy to discuss our payment to Laketown, and will lend our assistance to rebuild Dale once our kin have come back to Erebor.” He clasped his hands together and smiled, showing his sincerity. Thorin dropped his shoulders, and could hear Kili and Fili grumbling behind them. He turned to Bard, trying his best to offer a voice that didn’t sound too annoyed. “We are grateful for your generosity, and I will not go back on my word.” He noticed Bilbo smiling out of the corner of his eye, and felt a wave of relief wash over him. He straightened his back and continued, “Once we have opened the gates to Erebor and we send word to our kin to arrive, we will be able to go through the treasury properly and give you what you are owed.” Bard nodded his head at this, which Thorin was happy for. This was short-lived though, as Thranduil came over, still mounted on his elk.

“And what of which is still owed to the elves, Oakenshield?” Thranduil drew out his words, disdain dripping from them. Thorin’s face contorted into anger, ready to spit out a string of Khuzdul at Thranduil. Before he opened his mouth, Bilbo piped up. “What, exactly, is owed to the elves? I don’t remember this being discussed, unless I was missing from that conversation.” Thorin looked at Bilbo and could see the serious look on his face, his nose twitching. Pride swelled through Thorin’s chest, realizing that the hobbit would still do anything to defend him and the company. ‘Mahal above, thank you for giving us this burglar,’ he thought to himself quietly. He looked back to the elf king, who had turned to face Bilbo. He could see the smirk on Thranduil’s face, taking delight in the hobbit trying to stand his ground. “Do not fret, Master Baggins. I merely want the white gems of Lasgalen, something promised to me long ago by King Thror. I’m sure a reasonable hobbit such as yourself would find no reason as to why I shouldn’t still collect them.” Thranduil tilted his head down towards the hobbit, as if trying to placate him.

Bilbo shuffled his feet, immediately uncomfortable with the conversation. He twitched his nose, unsure of how to respond. If all the elves wanted were some gems, who was he to argue? But no, he had to go and stick his nose in places where it didn’t belong, he truly was his mother’s son. He looked between Thranduil and Thorin, and could see how Thorin’s face had softened slightly. It was hard to pick up, but there wasn’t as much fire behind his piercing blue eyes. He looked back to Thranduil, a defeated look on his face. He cleared his throat before speaking, “I guess I am in no place to argue, but I do believe you could have approached this better.” He shook his finger at the elf king, because as much as he respected his authority, he knew the king had no power over him. Bard laughed at his actions, a short bark. “Master burglar, you are truly honest and brave. I can see now why Gandalf had you accompany the dwarves on their quest.” Behind Bilbo, he could hear the princes chuckling and Dwalin letting out a snort.

Thorin rubbed at his face, still angry with Thranduil and his kin, but realizing he needs the alliance if he wishes to restore Erebor to its former glory. “Fine,” he spits out, “We will give you your gems, but only on the condition that you re-establish trade routes with us as well.” He glares at Thranduil on his elk, despising the fact that he has to turn to the elves for assistance after they abandoned them all those years ago.

That was when they heard it, the battlehorn of the dwarves of Iron Hill. Thorin turned towards the sound, a great smile spreading across his face. He could hear the dwarves on the ramparts cheering, along with Fili and Kili. Dain and his soldiers breached the top of the hill, Dain mounted on his war pig. He turned back to Thranduil, still grinning. He had a face of slight disgust, which Thorin took great joy in. “We will be staying in Dale to discuss trade and rebuilding. We will discuss our trade routes with the dwarves once you return to me the gems.” With that Thranduil left, leaving Gandalf and Bard behind. Bard mounted his horse, turning to leave as well. “I look forward to our alliance in the future, master dwarf. Thank you.” He smiled warmly at Thorin before kicking his heels into his horse and riding off to return to his children.

Thorin turned to Gandalf, the wizard still leaning against his staff but now having an amused look on his face. He raised his eyebrow at Thorin, before realizing what the dwarf would be asking for next. “I suppose you are wanting the Arkenstone back, but you need not worry,” he reached into his robes, pulling out the glimmering stone, “I will hold onto it, until the mountain has been reopened.” Thorin’s blood boiled at this, lunging for the stone which was held just out of reach. “I will not play these games with you, wizard! Hand over the stone, or I will pry it from your cold, dead, hands!” Thorin growled at the taller being, reaching for his sword. Bilbo jumped in between Thorin and Gandalf, holding his hands up. “Thorin, do you really need the stone right now? You have the mountain, and there are more dwarves coming!” The halfling gestured wildly in the direction of Dain, who was nearing the group, “You’re acting like a right git! If you want to be king so badly, then act like one!” Bilbo’s brown curls bounced on his head, his green eyes piercing into Thorin’s with a fire behind them that Thorin had grown accustomed to. Thorin seethed at the hobbit, moving to shove him out of the way just as Dain rode up to them.

“Cousin! I see ya made it without dyin’!” Dain eyed Thorin, taking notice of the anger in his face. His eyes wandered to the wizard as he was putting the Arkenstone back in his robes. “Tharkun, ya tall bastard! Didn’t expect to see you here!” Dain dismounted from his war pig, patting her head with his calloused hand. He surveyed the other dwarrow surrounding Thorin, noticing they all had either worry or anger etched onto their features. “Alright, what’s the problem ‘ere? Shouldn’t we be celebratin’ and drinkin’?” That’s when he spotted a halfling just behind Thorin. “Who the hell is this? Some pet you picked up along the way?” Dain laughed to himself, wondering why there would be a hobbit this far east.

Bilbo stepped out from behind Thorin, his anger rising again at being called a pet. “Excuse you! I have a name you know! I am Bilbo Baggins, and I am part of this company! Who exactly are you!?” He spat out at the dwarf, because of course he had to be cursed by Yavanna to have another arrogant dwarf to deal with. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest and started to feel woozy. He tried to take deep breaths to calm down as his vision began to swim, and he could barely make out the ginger dwarf laughing as he said his name. He shook his head as pain shot through him, his hands and feet starting to go numb. He tried to turn and speak to Thorin, Balin, any of them to communicate that something was wrong, but his tongue wasn’t cooperating and all that came out was a garbled mess of words. He thought he could see panic sweep through the dwarrows' faces before feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around his torso. The last thing that crossed his mind was ‘not again’ before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

Next Chapter:

#bagginshield #battle of five armies #bilbo baggins #fanfic #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #the company #twigger warning #seizure #The Stone On The Wall

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mikathemonster · 2 years

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“kisses and fireworks”

author’s note: happy new year everyone! I'm so excited to go into 2023, I feel like things can only go up from here :D and while I'm feeling very hopeful and optimistic, I figured I'd write a little treat to commemorate the new year with the classic tradition of a new year’s kiss! I hope you all enjoy :)

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 5,165

summary: Finally being able to witness the majesty of Erebor on the anniversary of Durin’s Day was already enough for your hungry heart, but maybe there was more to these mountain halls than just architecture...

content warnings: Post-BOTFA, Everyone Lives! AU, knives, fireworks

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

Five years. That’s how long it had taken to rebuild Erebor from the aftermath of Smaug’s conquest, to rebuild Dale into the prosperous city it once was, and for the rich trade of Laketown to return. Five whole years. And in those five years, news of Thorin Oakenshield had spread like wildfire; people gathered to tell stories of his great journey and monumental accomplishments. He was like a dwarven god, a figment of heroism built upon a true and very real legacy. Portraits were made of him, and the great city of Dale had even erected a statue in his honor. He was the picture of dwarven royalty; a hard-worn and steely gaze followed by an aura of immense power and dignity. You had come to know his face well, catching tales of the stories all the way in The Angle. In fact, it was for that reason you had journeyed east of your home, hoping to see the majesty of Erebor for yourself. Your journey took place on the fifth anniversary of Erebor’s reclamation.

Now, it had been ten years since Smaug’s demise, and five years since your own journey. When you had originally traveled east, you had come to find out through merchants in Laketown that the dwarven kingdom of Erebor prohibited outsiders from entering, save for the few dignitaries of Men and Elves that had aided Erebor in their time of need. Despite being let down by this, your determination hadn’t been swayed. Onward, you pressed on, eventually settling down in Dale for the better half of the last few years. Keeping a trade, you had gotten into smithing, setting up a small shop for yourself where you crafted decorated chains and knives of silver steel. You were known for your highly-detailed decorative work, especially when it came to hilts of blades. And for a while, you were satisfied with your new life you had made for yourself. But as days went on, you often wondered if there was any chance to see more than simple daydreams of the proud dwarven kingdom.

And just your luck, there was! News spread fast throughout Dale of a banquet to be held in the massive halls of Erebor, and the invitation had been extended to anyone who wished to come. You all but jumped in delight at the thought that after all this time, you’d finally see the great city-kingdom. More news of the banquet came to pass, and you wasted no time in finding a suitable outfit. It would be held on Durin’s Day, the anniversary of Thorin’s company reclaiming Erebor with the death of Smaug, and would commemorate the tenth year of Erebor’s reclamation. Another new and prosperous year was to be celebrated, and you had even heard word that Gandalf the Grey would be conjuring up fireworks for the spectacle. How excited you were to see a wizard! How excited you were to see Erebor! You were so wildly excited for this, wondering what could possibly lie beyond those bedrock gates. Perhaps you would even meet a jeweler who would be willing to supply you gems for your craft! Oh, it felt like the possibilities were truly endless.

The next few days, as Durin’s Day was merely a week away, seemed to whizz by rather quickly. Within two days, you had already found your outfit: a billowing cream-white tunic tucked into a long brown skirt, which was embellished with silver embroidery along the seams and edges. Bringing everything in together was a quilted green vest, also embroidered with silver thread resembling leaves. You decided this would be a fine opportunity to showcase your handiwork, and so all your jewelry was your own: a thin bronze band engraved with feathers on your right hand, a delicate silver chain adorning your neck with a blue pendant, and a chain belt of shining bronze wrapped around your waist, with the metal peppered in decorative carvings. It was modest, surely, but you felt regal enough to grin every time you caught yourself admiring your silhouette in a mirror.

Two more days passed, and you had found yourself busy with your latest order: three knives, all sisters, and all to be made with your finest work. The customer, a young dwarrowdam named Bralva, had insisted the knives be prepared and finished before the banquet. You would’ve refused the order for the lack of time if she hadn’t promised to reward you handsomely. Fueled by the notion that you would need to buy new tools soon, you had taken her on.

“But what for, if I may ask?” You were perplexed by her need to rush. “For Durin’s Day? I thought weapons wouldn’t be allowed at such a banquet.”

“Oh Mahal, no!” Bralva chided. “They’re not for me, dear. Ten years I’ve waited to see my homeland again, and I won’t risk the chance to not marry well into Durin’s line while I’m at it! I plan on offering them to the king and princes, in hopes I marry off.”

“Marriage?” You scoffed. “At a celebration of a new year?”

“You think of me as a joke, but I know what I’m doing,” she insisted. “All three royals of Erebor sit unmarried as it stands. With gifts such as these, I’m bound to make my presence known well!”

You simply laughed her off, not wanting to risk insulting her and therefore lose a customer. “Alright, alright, then I wish you well, Miss. But how can you be so willing to marry a stranger?”

“It’s a new year, dear. How can you be so unaccepting of wishful thinking? Besides, banquets like these are such romantic places to find love. Or lust…” She muttered the last bit, her cheeks glowing as rosy as her magnificent beard from thinking such thoughts.

That was the last you had seen her in all her glory, and since then you had been set to work on making the most exquisite knives you had crafted yet. Now, on whether or not they’d be worthy of a royal marriage, you weren’t sure. But you would damn well try your hardest! You had immediately gotten to work on the blades once she left, and spent the next two days working on the hilts with such a ferocious intensity and tenacity that by the time she came to collect them on the morning of Durin’s Day, you were exhausted. Sleep tugged at your undereyes and you were in desperate need of a shower.

“My, the skill! I dare say you have almost the talent of a dwarf! ” Bralva cheered, holding one of the delicate blades up to her face for a better look. And, just as promised, you had indeed been rewarded quite handsomely, with a pouch full of gold pieces in your hands. Unfortunately, in your exhaustion, you had missed her compliment and only picked up on her muttering about dwarven princes and marriage.

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course,” you mused in your sleepy stupor.

“My dear, I hope you intend to bathe before tonight,” she chuckled, waving a hand at your disheveled appearance. “Luck will not be on your side if this is to be your attire!”

You sighed, casting a quick glance in the mirror. By the gods, she was right. You shrugged her off, letting out a tired groan. “I’ll be fine, there’s still a whole rest of the day before the banquet tonight. Besides, luck should favor you more if you plan to be wed so soon.”

She blushed at your words, giggling to herself. “But still! You are young, and you won’t get any younger! Take it from an old dwarrow, my dear.”

“Old?” You scoffed, running a hand through your hair to get it out of your face as you got a better look at her. “Look at you! You’re so beautiful and young, yourself! How old can you possibly be?”

“A woman never tells her age,” she chuckled, leaning in. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “But if you must know, I’m to be 183 soon.”

You bit your tongue from cursing in shock. It seemed you had forgotten the differences in life spans between man and dwarf. “What? Surely you jest!”

Again, you were graced with a blushing and smiling Bralva. “Still, my dear, don’t refuse love to come to you! Who knows, with three single royals, maybe we’ll both end up with one!” She winked, and you silently hoped she’d buy your wares again in the future. She was cheekily amusing, and good gossip and entertainment was hard to come by when you were always holed up to work on your chains and knives.

“Well how am I to know if I’m in the presence of a prince?” You leaned in, humoring her despite the slight ache in your back. Once you wrapped up with her, you were intent on taking a nap after a vigorous bath. “I hardly think they’d be impressed by me, after all.”

“Well, your looks are certainly considered more… unorthodox to most dwarves, and considering you’re not a dwarf yourself…” She trailed off, realizing that maybe she hadn’t fully meant it when she jested about you both marrying off. “But nevermind that! The princes are as strong as they are young! Too young for me, I'm sure, but I’ll certainly still try!” She gave another wink, and you chuckled, realizing she still hadn’t answered your question.

“Yes, but I’ve only seen portraits of King Thorin. How will I know which ones are the princes?” You smiled, enjoying the conversation. It was nice to talk to someone after working for three days straight.

“Well, they both have the same powerful looks as they’re uncle, that’s for sure. I myself haven’t seen them, but I’ve heard tales that the oldest one carries beautiful metal beads in his mustache braids, and he’s skilled with swords and knives! He’s a natural warrior, he is!”

“And the other?”

“I’ve heard less of him, only that he once took a Morgul shaft and survived, and that he cannot grow a beard,” She sighed, muttering. “Poor thing.”

“Surely you know more about these two than their beards, or lack thereof?” You scoffed.

“I know enough to gift them your beautiful work! That’s all I need!” She grinned, boasting. “And speaking of which, I’ve got to go get ready! Time moves quickly when corsets and gowns are involved, my dear. Take care!”

You waved as she left, saying your own goodbyes, and soon as she was out of your eyesight, you immediately closed up shop. If she was already getting ready and it was still morning, it seemed you’d need to hurry yourself as well.

Hours passed, and after bathing yourself and falling asleep in the bath, you deemed yourself hygienically appropriate for a banquet. The dirt and grease from your trade had been scrubbed off, your hair now brushed and freshly cleaned, and you smelled more like a normal person and less like a furnace. A job well done, I’d say! Now, all that was left was to get ready for the night.

Now, while you hadn’t planned on arriving particularly early, you were mildly annoyed with yourself and how late you had become. Bralva was right to mention getting ready takes time; you had spent a whole hour trying to do something with you hair! Eventually, you settled with wearing it down and peppering it with small braids hidden within the tresses.

The trek from Dale to Erebor wasn’t terribly long, and it was more of a hike than a trek, as the path was already lit with torches that beckoned visitors into the night mountain fortress. You couldn’t help the excitement you felt, which pressured your feet to walk faster as you tried not to practically run to the mountain. Oh, Erebor! Finally, you would see if all the legends of its majesty you had heard were true!

As you stepped into the halls of the mountain, you couldn’t help but gawk in awe of the architecture. Hell, you had thought Dale to be lovely and beautiful, but even the glorious city not too far away now paled in comparison to the extravagance of Erebor. Glittering gold accented every wall, every pillar, every carving into the darkened stone of the mountain. Each shadow in the halls cast a green glow about the place, luring you in like a moth drawn to flame. It was enchanting, alluring, and breathtaking. And despite finding yourself taller than almost all of the folk around you, you looked up at the terrifically high-vaulted ceilings of the mountain and found yourself feeling small. The ceilings themselves were beautiful as well, gems glittering in the mountain-rock that even underground, it felt like you were stargazing.

After minutes passed by of you taking in the scenery, you found yourself being led deeper into the mountain halls where the true festivities began. In one of Erebor’s many great halls, it seemed the banquet had been going for quite some time already (which made sense, after all you hadn’t exactly been on time). Tables filled with sweet meats and good drink with an endless amount of laughter and drunken shenanigans, and the back of the hall served as a ballroom, where many regal-looking dwarrowdams were seeking the attention of any young dwarrow who they deemed fit to dance with. A part of you wondered where Bralva might have wandered off to. At the very head of this hall lay a large stone table littered with delicacies and fine wines, fit with four grand thrones behind it. You only recognized one of the two seated at the table: Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. Next to him sat a dwarrowdam of immense beauty, her beard beautifully braided down her dress. She shared the same steely gaze as the king, and you wondered if they were related. The two thrones on each side of them sat empty, and you assumed that meant that the princes were off somewhere.

Eager to dip your toes into the culture and wonder of Erebor, you quickly made your way down to the tables to fetch yourself a bottle of ale, finding the taste as delicious as it was potent. You wandered around the outskirts of the hall, snacking on foods here and there and occasionally being dragged in to dance with random strangers that beckoned you onto the dance floor. And how could you not? It was the celebration of a new year! And what a mighty celebration it was, as your night quickly began getting filled by being whisked onto the dance floor by men and women alike. Amidst the dancing bodies and jigs being played, you spotted Bralva merrily along, and eagerly returned an exciting wave. She was bladeless, which meant she had successfully completed part of her mission: gifting the royalty your best works. It was an honor, really, and you wish you could have seen their reactions. Better yet, you wondered how much more of Erebor you could see before the night ended, considering you weren’t sure whether the kingdom would remain open to all after tonight’s feasting. If you snuck off of the ballroom floor right now, there was still a chance you could sneak into the kingdom’s halls scot-free with none the wiser.

And so, armed with your second bottle of ale (not that you needed more, you were already starting to feel tipsy), you snuck out of the great banquet’s hall and found yourself meandering through the dark stone corridors, lit only by torches. It began to seem to you that a place like this would be impossible to live in. Hardly anything was marked, every hallway looked the same, and no matter how grand the architecture was, you found yourself incredibly and hopelessly lost. Leaning against a wall, you slumped down onto the floor, legs sprawled out in front of you as you quietly drank your ale. What were you to do? You’d rather be caught by a guard and thrown out of the party than risk trying to find your way back and only getting more lost! At least for now, you could live in your dream that had up until now been simply that. A dream.

Time passed slowly, and your only measure of it was your ale reaching the halfway point in its bottle. You were starting to get bored of sitting around, and desperately craved something to do. Perhaps you should try and explore some more? Maybe try to find the rumored treasure halls of Thráin? Or perhaps you could try to steal a peek of the forges, if you were even that lucky?

Unfortunately, time waits for no man, least of all one stuck in a decision. For in your pondering, you hadn’t realized that a certain dwarrow was running right towards you, seeming to try and escape someone or something else with a cheeky glint in his eye. But right when you noticed him, it was all too late; in his haste, he hadn’t seen your extended legs, and tripped over them like a blithering fool. You quickly got onto your knees, horror creeping on your face as you’d realize what you accidentally did.

“Oh. Oh my gosh! Oh my, I’m so sorry! I really didn’t mean to, truly!” You pleaded, extending a hand on his back for reassurance. “Are you okay? I didn’t even see you, I’m so sorry!”

The dwarf sat up, propped up on his elbow while the other hand went to his nose to check for blood. Nothing. It seemed he was about to scold you until his eyes met yours, and suddenly he was looking at you with such wonder that you thought maybe he really had hit his head.

“Are you alright? Is anything bleeding?” Your eyes scanned his features, looking for any sort of bruise he could have suffered, and trying to stay focused all at once. My, he was handsome. Tousled brown hair that fell down in waves upon his shoulders, wondrous brown eyes that seemed to glimmer in the dark, and rough stubble growing out of his face in a sort of ruggish beauty.

Finally, his speech returned to him. “I’m fine, really. I’m so clumsy, it seems we both didn’t see each other.” He smiled, and for some reason you were so enamored by it. You had only just met this man, and yet you already couldn’t get enough of that charming smile.

“Well, that’s a relief!” You sighed, sitting back on the floor, distancing yourself lest you find yourself flustered in front of this beautiful dwarf. “You had me worried there, you could’ve really hurt something.”

“Well, it’s not every day I find myself tripping over people in the hallways,” he mused. “What are you doing in here? You’re not from here, are you?”

You offered him your bottle of ale, and he obliged. “I live in Dale, I have a smithing shop there. I moved here years ago to see Erebor, and the one night I’m let in, I get myself lost!” You groaned, frustrated but still seeing the humor in your misfortune as you chuckled dryly. “I mean, a grand kingdom such as this, and I’m lost! Nothing is marked, there’s no signs anywhere! How do you even get from here to there in a place like this?”

The dwarf laughed at your plight, and despite the embarrassment you were enduring, you couldn’t help but smile at him. “The halls are marked, they’ve always been!”

“What?” You were awestruck, mostly out of ignorance. “Where?!”

“Look at the floors, they’re marked,” he said, moving closer to show you as he pointed his finger at a corner of the floor. As you leaned in to get a better look, you found he was right. Each hall was color-coded by the gem embedded in the stone flooring. Your jaw dropped, but you were quick to pick it back up.

“Wait, but how is any of that supposed to help me? I don’t know which means what!” You leaned back, exasperated, much to the dwarf’s amusement.

“That’s the point. Each gem holds a meaning in our culture, which makes it easy for us to navigate these halls and even easier for trespassers to get lost. It worked for everything except a dragon,” he smiled, looking at your annoyed expression. Suddenly feeling all too noticed as you caught him staring, your face felt hot and flushed, and you were sure it wasn’t just the ale this time.

“Alright, fine,” you lamented. “You caught me. Next time I sneak around these halls, I’ll just bring you along to make it easier.”

“Well,” he spoke, getting up from the floor and offering a hand to help you stand back up, his other hand holding your bottle of ale. “I can’t say I would mind, you already seem like such great company.”

You politely took his hand, standing up yourself to find the dwarf only coming up to your chest. You felt your face heat up again at the sight, taking in how… cute he looked. “I’m sorry,” you took a step back, shaking your head. “I don’t think I even got your name? I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N…” He whispered it to himself, almost like a secret, and found himself smiling after. “It’s beautiful.”

You chuckled nervously, not sure how to handle all the sweet attention. “And yours is?”

He thought for a moment, seeming to ponder whether or not he should tell you, which seemed a little absurd after how friendly you two had been so far. The least you were owed was a name.

“Kíli,” he said with a bow. “At your service.”

“Oh my, it seems your tripping has caused me to trip over my words,” you joked, returning the bow. “However will I repay you?”

He immediately sprung back up, an idea already in his mind. “Your company, perhaps?”

You seemed playfully shocked, putting a hand across your chest. “Who, me? Well who would I be if I declined?”

He smiled at your answer, taking your hand into his as he led you down the halls of Erebor with a swift tenacity just like he had entered with. “This way, I want to show you something!”

You let yourself be dragged across the mountain kingdom with Kíli leading the way, a giddy but nervous smile plastered on your face from holding hands like this. Perhaps it was the alcohol or the excitement of the night, but you were having a grand time being lost, so long as it was with Kíli.

After three minutes of twists and turns within the mountain rock later, suddenly you found yourself on a balcony high above the great hall of the banquet, so high up that the ceiling no longer felt so big. In fact, you yourself felt much bigger now that you had the view of the whole banquet, where everyone else seemed like little partying ants. You were speechless, there simply weren't any words left to describe how amazing this secret spot was. You quickly turned to Kíli, smiling wide like a cat.

“This.. This is amazing!” You shouted, but quickly hushed yourself amidst Kíli’s own shushes, which were accompanied by the most precious smile you’d seen. God, that smile of his shone brighter than any of the precious gems you had seen tonight, brighter than even the stars themselves. You so desperately wanted more of that shining light, especially for yourself.

“Isn’t it?” He smiled, inviting you back down to the floor to sit down. “It’s my secret little spot, I come here whenever I want to be alone, or away from the throngs of people. Not even my own brother knows how to get up here.”

“Well neither do I, so consider your secret kept safe,” you laughed, taking in a moment to look back down at the party scene below. With squinting eyes you could make out Thorin Oakenshield, who now was in deep conversation with a younger, blonde dwarf. Despite the distance, you could make out metal beads in his braids. “That must be one of the princes, look!” You pointed, scooting closer to Kíli so he could see it from your eye line better.

“Really?” He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, but you were too excited to notice. “How do you know?”

“A customer of mine bought some knives from me — beautifully decorated, may I add — in the hopes to present them to the princes and king and maybe even marry them!” You giggled at the last bit, the alcohol making Bralva’s boasts even sillier in your head. Quickly, you searched for Bralva’s beard amidst the sea of dancing ants. “Look! There she is!”

Kíli leaned even closer now to see, his cheek grazing yours, and it made you turn your head to look at him. Reading his expression, you could tell the exact moment his eyes found Bralva, his eyes glimmering once again with that devilish smile of his. You don’t know what led you to be so bold in this next moment, but by some small amount of courage, you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek.

He was quick to turn and look at you, his face shocked at your gesture, before his shock melted into a giddy smile of joy. A small laugh left his lips, and he raised a hand to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Mahal…” he whispered to himself, smiling softly. “Even the stars cannot compare to how radiant you are tonight…”

Your eyes widened at his words, unsure of what to say. You’d never been told such sweet things before. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Then don’t,” he chuckled, leaning in closer. Ever so slowly, he leaned in, his lips drawing ever nearer but not quite touching as if to ask for a silent confirmation of what was about to happen. Happy to give it, you leaned into him, your lips finally joining together in a kiss that was soft and slow. Your hand took its time to reach into his hair, and you felt him smile into the kiss as you did so, his own hands coming to rest at the nape of your neck and caress your jawline. You felt like you could keep kissing him like this forever, but all too soon, you pulled away, nervous.

“I’m sorry,” you sputtered. You weren’t ashamed, just a little anxious. “I’ve.. Well I'm not... I’ve never-“

“It’s alright, Y/N,” he smiled, petting your head reassuringly as he placed a kiss on your forehead, lingering for just a sweet moment. “There’s no need to explain. We could go somewhere quieter, if you’d like.”

You thought for a moment, catching your breath. You very much wanted to keep kissing him: there was something so addictingly sweet about kissing him. But it seems you definitely needed a moment to collect your thoughts first. “Yes, please. I’d appreciate that.”

“Of course,” he spoke softly, his voice so kind and gentle. He was kind and gentle. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

You nodded with a smile, standing up in tandem with him, when all of a sudden…

BOOM!

Up in the air, the fireworks show had begun, startling you and causing you to jump, knocking you and Kíli back down as you stared at the sparkling fireworks that lingered in the air, resembling butterflies. A sigh of relief washed over you, and you laughed to yourself before looking back to Kíli, who seemed to be in pain. “Oh my gosh!” You quickly got back up, not wanting to crush the poor dwarf. “I’m so sorry, I just got startled, and-“

“No, no, don’t be! It’s not you, it’s-“ he winced, pulling something from under his vest. He must have landed on it, but what he pulled out surprised you more than anything about tonight. There it was, shimmering in the light of the fireworks. Your own handiwork on full display as he held one of the knives you had crafted for Bralva.

“You… You’re…” You pointed a finger at the blade, still so overwhelmed and shocked by the nature of it all. Could it be? There was no way! What were the chances?

“What?” He feigned innocence, getting up. “Charming? Rugged? A sight to behold?”

“You’re the other prince!” You exclaimed, still in shock.

“Ah, right,” he nodded sarcastically. “You know, I always seem to forget that one.” He chuckled to himself, looking away for a moment before turning back to look at you, holding the blade out to you. “It truly is a wonderful gift, Y/N. I'm honored to have met the craftsman behind it.”

You scoffed, now coming back to your senses. “I think you’ve done a little more than ‘meeting’ the craftsman, Kíli. Or am I supposed to call you Your Highness?”

“Just Kíli will do, I can assure you, love.” He smiled, amused at your aloofness towards his title. “And as for doing ‘more than meeting’,” he took a step closer to you, offering his hand. “If you still feel the same, I’d love to continue ‘meeting’ you…”

Love. He had called you love. Gods…

You furrowed your brow, contemplating for a moment, all too worried of what this would implicate for both you and him. He was a dwarven prince, a direct descendant of Durin himself! And you? You were just a smith from Dale, with nothing to your name other than your skill. Could it even work?

Just as you tried desperately to reach a decision, another round of fireworks went off, the sparklers erupting into silvery leaves that fell onto the crowd. And suddenly, you knew. There was nothing else to wonder, to ponder, to overthink.

You turned back to him, leaning in as you dove for another kiss, this one slightly more fervent and desperate, just in case you’d risk never seeing him again. He was a stranger, but he was starlight. He was the sun, and you weren’t sure if you’d bloom again if it wasn’t by his rays. Your hands reached into his hair, tugging slightly, and he eagerly smiled into it, his own hands snaking up your body to rest on your waist, pulling you closer despite the height difference. He laughed between the dance of your lips, pulling away for a moment.

“So I take it that’s a yes?” His child-like eyes seemed to lure you in and drown you in their murky waters, and you wanted nothing more.

You smiled, looking down at him. “My prince, I believe you’d be correct.” And before the shorter one could get another word in, you took his hand, leading him away to somewhere quieter where you two could escape.

And while you may continue to get lost in the halls of Erebor, it was beginning to seem as though having Kíli as your compass, your guiding light, wouldn’t be too bad.

#kili #kili durin #kili fanfic #kili x reader #kili durin x reader #LOTR #LOTR fandom #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fanfic #The Hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #lotr x reader

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the-journey-was-the-point · 3 months

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Reunion

Finally, something on Linnéa! This is about a key moment, so it contains a lot of exposition for this whole AU. Summary: It's a little awkward to reunite with the Dwarf you kidnapped. Especially when you're also the person who saved his life. In any case, it's complicated.

Linnéa had been waiting in a parlor in Erebor for half an hour, thinking up ways to escape a windowless room in a mountain full of Dwarves. When Fíli arrived, she immediately tensed.

“I mean you no harm,” he said.

“You sent armored guards to bring me here."

The last time Linnéa saw Fíli, he was being held over a ledge by a pale orc with a sword for an arm. Now he was dressed in finer fabrics and gems, befitting a Prince Under the Mountain.

He also had a burn mark on his right cheek.

“I had to make sure you’d come,” he replied, I needed to talk to you.”

Linnéa eyed the Dwarf prince with caution as he readied himself to speak again.

“Kíli nearly died.” he said.

“Yes, I heard. Poisoned by an Orcish arrow. You went to Bard for help.” Then Tauriel and the Mirkwood prince came in. Tauriel stayed behind to heal Kíli.

“We went to your apothecary first,” Fíli started, “but when we got there, the place was deserted.”

Linnéa glanced at the closed door behind Fíli. He hadn’t taken any further steps after crossing the threshold into the parlor. He stayed near the door while she had her back to the innermost wall in the room.

“My cover was blown,” she said easily. “My handler told me to steer clear from Laketown, also in anticipation of a dragon attack.“ A dragon attack that ended with the town in ashes.

“Were you at the battle then?” he asked. “Between Dwarves, Elves, and the Men of Laketown?” The one that had ended with an ambush by Orcs.

“I stayed in Dale. Disappeared during the thick of it.”

Fíli only nodded in response. He seemed to be in deep thought as he, at last, slowly moved towards the center of the room. Linnéa watched each step warily. Fíli stopped in front of the table with refreshments that were laid out for her. Tea and cakes. She had touched none of it.

“Back then,” Fíli spoke once more, “on Ravenhill, I was caught by Orcs who meant to wipe out my line. Nearly did. The only thing that saved me was an arrow laced with poison so strong that Azog dropped me in pain when struck with it. I landed on my brother. I was injured from the fall, burning from the poison where it grazed my cheek, but nothing as bad as what could have happened.”

The dwarf prince gingerly picked a cake and seemed to examine it as he continued, “I had Nori keep an ear out. We were the only dwarves on Ravenhill, and Mirkwood elves don’t use poison.”

He set the cake back down and looked up at her meaningfully.

He didn’t speak, but she understood. “Does it still hurt?” she asked, eyeing the inflamed skin on his cheek.

“It itches sometimes. Oín hasn’t been able to completely heal it.”

Of course. That poison was a cocktail of her own making, so only she had the cure.

“I’ve thought about it this whole time. I don’t understand why a spy from Mirkwood like yourself would save me.”

“You’re an honorable sort.” she said, “Noble. And kind. I didn’t think you should die for your uncle’s decisions.”

And it wasn’t personal, she said as much last time. The only reason she was working for Mirkwood as a spy was because she had been stuck in Middle Earth for over a hundred years, with a chunk of that time spent trying to find a way to sail to the Undying Lands with the rest of the immortals. Unfortunately, her half-Elven blood and Mannish features weren’t doing her any favors.

So when Mirkwood’s spymaster, who just so happened to know her Elven father, offered her an ultimatum (her services in exchange for a good word to get her onto a boat headed West), she accepted.

“I’m going on a quest soon,” Fíli suddenly said. “Really just a small errand, but uncle doesn’t want me traveling alone. He said I could choose my companions. I’d like you to be one of them.”

Ah, yes. His uncle. Thorin Oakenshield. Now the King Under the Mountain. The one Linnéa had been tasked to kidnap, but couldn’t. So she settled for Fíli that night, drugging his ale and taking him across the lake to her handler from Mirkwood.

She quirked an eyebrow.

“If you come with me,” Fíli continued, “I could make good on my promise to get you to people who would help you sail.”

At that, Linnéa heaved a deep sigh. She brought a hand up to her head, frustrated at having to hear this offer again.

The Dwarf prince had made it back then too, when he learned of her predicament, when he tried to bargain with her from behind bars.

“It’s not that simple,” she replied.

“I’m not asking.”

Linnéa felt her stomach drop. Her eyes widened a fraction, but she kept her composure. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Linnéa, no one knows about what happened between us. No one but Kíli.”

“Why?!” she snapped, irritated at his gall, for forcing her into this position, here, in this mountain full of Dwarves, in this parlor underground. “Why not just set your axes upon me? Why make me abandon my one hope of sailing to Valinor to accompany you?“

“Because I believe you’re good!” he fired back. “I believe things would have been different if someone had helped you.”

Linnéa’s face twitched slightly in bewilderment. Fíli seemed to study her for a moment before continuing.

“My family lives,” he said, “we’ve reclaimed our home, because Bilbo helped us. I live now because you helped me. And now I’d like to help you too. I’d like to help you, but you need to get out of here first, away from your handler. And you need to trust me.”

Linnéa swallowed. She looked away, no longer willing to see the sincerity that glimmered in the dwarf prince’s eyes. He had faced dragonfire and nearly died by an orc’s blade– by all accounts, he shouldn’t still be so earnest.

Trust me. He said that back then, too. He said he’d help her once they reclaimed their mountain.

If they reclaim their mountain, she had pointed out. They were to face a dragon after all. And she was already so tired, she didn’t know if she could last another hundred years in this land she no longer felt joy in. She told him then she couldn’t place her hopes on an if.

And then they faced a dragon. And now the mountain was theirs.

“Bard wouldn’t let go of his only apothecary,” she mumbled.

“You’re a big lass, he doesn’t tell you what to do.”

“And what of my handler?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She turned back to him. Trust me, his eyes seemed to say. Before she could respond, Balin entered to tell them they best be heading to the dining hall soon to meet with Thorin.

Linnéa mulled over his offer throughout the meeting.

Later, Bard would be at the gates, waiting for Linnea. He would be relieved to see her hale, then admonish Thorin for taking one of his without seeking permission from him, and with armed guards no less.

Fíli would glance at Linnéa, she would glance back at him.

After a moment, she would nod.

#the hobbit #the hobbit oc's #tolkien oc's #my fics #oc stuff #linnea (oc)#fili #edited from original #no beta we just keep revising

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sunnyrosewritesstuff · 10 months

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Once upon a time, I got this prompt from @mrgraveside that was AMAZING for a 99 Problems, but then couldn't ever seem to deliver on it. 😅

Well good news is that it is finally here! 🤩 Taking the concept of 'what if Bilbo didn't think Thorin was goldsick' mixing it with a little 'we think the company is goldsick' to get this one-shot! I really hope you enjoy. 🥰🥰🥰

#53: The goldsickness (is believed to have) made an appearance in other dwarves in the mountain.

No Small Amount of Courage

Rating: T

Warnings: N/A

Words: 5015

Bilbo was worried about Thorin. How could he not after turning the sword on him while he was escaping a dragon? Bilbo hadn’t known what to think at that moment, but Smaug’s words about Thorin being driven mad firmly planted itself at the forefront of his mind, unable to retract its claws. Even now as Thorin had the dwarves working tirelessly to search for the stone sitting quite comfortably in Bilbo’s pocket, he had to wonder if Thorin was truly of sound mind.

“What is that?”

Bilbo looked up as Thorin approached him, scrambling to his feet, before revealing the acorn Thorin demanded to see. And that one moment…changed everything. Thorin’s entire demeanor softened as Bilbo spoke of his hopes for the acorn. His attached memories to the little seed. How lucky he was to be alive. And at that moment, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say Bag End when he told Thorin where he would plant it.

“I thought Erebor might need some new life after all this.”

“That it would.” Thorin remarked softly, taking another step closer to him.

“And that way you can remember. Remember certainly how Erebor used to be, but mostly what it is now. A home returned to you.”

Thorin was now standing close enough for Bilbo to feel the heat radiating off his body. How badly he just wanted to lean forward into the dwarf, especially when Thorin took to tracing the acorn in his palm.

“Is that how you see it then?”

“How I see what?” Bilbo questioned.

“Erebor.” Thorin breathed, his eyes piercing straight through Bilbo. “Could it be a home to you?”

A small gasp seemed to steal all of Bilbo’s words away. Especially as Thorin’s fingers left the acorn to map the contours of his hand. Meanwhile, his steely blue gaze was locked on Bilbo as if in anticipation of his answer. Bilbo licked his suddenly dry lips as he tried to string together words again.

“I…That is…I think…”

“Thorin!” Dwalin’s voice carried to them before the dwarf appeared in the doorway. “The survivors of Laketown are streaming into Dale.”

Bilbo watched as Thorin’s expression immediately closed off, wanting to glare daggers at Dwalin for his untimely appearance. Thorin dropped Bilbo’s hand, and the hobbit mourned the loss as his gaze fell down to the little acorn. Unable to watch Thorin disappear after he was so close in getting the dwarf back. He was surprised when Thorin’s voice carried softly towards him. When he looked back up, he could see the warm expression had returned.

“I have something to show you. Will you meet me back here just before sunset?”

“O-Of course!” Bilbo answered, unable to hide the joy from his smile.

Thorin gave him a small nod, his eyes twinkling before following after Dwalin. Bilbo felt himself shiver in his glee. Perhaps not all was lost after all.

***

“Thorin! Where are we going?” Bilbo asked breathlessly as he was pulled through the dark and the rubble after the dwarf.

Thorin looked back over his shoulder to give Bilbo a coy grin.

“You’ll see.”

Bilbo huffed, but failed to summon any real heat, especially when Thorin squeezed the hand he was using to tug Bilbo along. Not that the hobbit had any reason not to trust the dwarf. Perhaps before, he might have. But when Thorin came back to meet him, it was like he was a completely different dwarf. The teasing and the heartfelt eyes. There was nary a trace of whatever Bilbo had conceived to be ‘goldsickness’. Could it all just have been stress? A hallucinogenic nightmare brought on by the silky words of a dragon?

“Ope, a bit of a climb here.” Thorin declared as he released Bilbo’s hand for a moment.

“Thorin, I can’t see.” Bilbo complained.

“There’s a pillar in front of you. Climb over it and I’ll help you on the other side.” Thorin’s voice carried to him.

Hesitantly, Bilbo reached out until he was able to feel the collapsed pillar Thorin spoke of. Luckily for Bilbo, it barely stood above his shoulders. Shouldn’t be too bad then as he gripped the stone and attempted to pull himself up and over. He could tell by Thorin’s light chuckles that he probably looked about as graceless as he felt. However, once he was at the top, two hands came around to support his waist, pulling him gently back towards the ground.

Bilbo’s breath caught at how close he was standing to Thorin. He could feel his heart pounding beneath his hand, and Thorin’s breath warm his cheek. Bilbo looked up, only to have the fond look in the king’s eyes by the fading orange light freeze him on the spot. Wait a minute. Where did the light come from?

Bilbo turned his head, shattering the moment completely. Thorin didn’t seem to mind as he tilted his head indicating they should move closer. A doorway stood before them, pouring the fading sunlight into the stone vestibule.

“Prepare yourself, Master Baggins, for the greatest view on Arda.”

Bilbo had a playful response on the tip of his tongue, but that died the moment they stepped out onto the mountainside.

“Goodness Thorin!” Bilbo gasped. “When you’re right, you are actually right.”

The dwarf chuckled from beside Bilbo, draping his arm across his shoulders, but Bilbo hardly noticed as his eyes were locked on the range of snow capped mountains in the distance. The setting sun caught their sides making them look more purple than gray, as was their namesake. Even more captivating than that was the valley that stretched before them was the river cutting through the center before disappearing below the mountain in a gorgeous waterfall. The fact that the valley was currently barren could not detract from its beauty for long.

“I was thinking, if you weren’t opposed, that this might be the perfect place to grow your acorn.”

Bilbo whipped his head, jaw dropped as he shamelessly gaped at Thorin. “My acorn? Here?”

“If you’re amenable.” Thorin teased. “I could see an entire garden spanning this valley eventually if there were someone with a greenhand to maintain it.”

Bilbo felt heat rise to his cheeks as he coughed into his fist. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, Master Oakenshield, but I don’t have any Greenhand in my blood. That’s why I hired a Greenhand. However, I’m very good at checking up on references if you need a project manager.”

When Bilbo felt brave enough to look back up at Thorin, he found the dwarf looming far closer than before, that fond look returning in his cornflower blue eyes. There was a touch of a thick dwarven palm against his face before he was meeting Thorin’s lips. His hands got tangled in his mass of hair as he tried to bring him closer. Pressing their mouths together with an almost bruising force, finally getting to taste. Finally flaming the heat that always seemed to settle in his stomach whenever he saw the dwarf.

Air became a necessity, and Bilbo reluctantly pulled away only to smile at the same hesitance and longing burning in Thorin’s eyes. The dwarf gently pressed his forehead against Bilbo’s just holding him there.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Thorin groaned.

“Unless you’ve also wanted that since Beorn’s, I’m afraid I’ve got you beat.”

Thorin smirked as he said two words that had Bilbo pulling him down for another earth shattering kiss. “Bag End.”

The next time they pulled away, Bilbo could feel the relief coursing through him as he reached down to take Thorin’s hand.

“I’ve thought…I’ve worried that the sickness of your grandfather took you.” Bilbo confessed.

Thorin frowned, and Bilbo immediately cradled his hand as he pressed a kiss to his knuckles before looking back up at Thorin proudly.

“But I can’t tell you how happy and more importantly, proud I am that it’s not the case.”

Thorin weaved his other hand carefully through Bilbo’s curls, giving him a dreamy smirk.

“Your faith gives me strength, Ghivashel (treasure of all treasures). Thank you.”

Bilbo wrapped himself around Thorin, recreating the hug that changed everything as he closed his eyes in his euphoria. It was like a bad dream, and how silly of him to put stock in the words of a dragon.

“However…”

Bilbo looked up, only to see how sad and defeated the king had turned. His brows pinched together wishing he could ease the dwarf’s pain any way he could.

“I don’t believe we are past the goldsickness completely.” Thorin continued. “In fact, I fear it has taken the Company.”

Bilbo’s first thought was to dismiss Thorin’s concerns, unable to believe they would be betrayed for even a second by their friends. Yet, he knew the look in Thorin’s eyes well. Worry, paranoia, a hint of anger. Everything he had been looking at for the past few days believing it was the dwarf before him who had gone mad. He would not have taken it well if anyone had tried to blatantly deny it.

“Why…do you think that?” He asked carefully.

“They stay in the treasury, all day and night.”

Because Thorin ordered them to.

“They line their pockets with coins when they think I’m not looking.”

They were promised one-fourteenth of the treasure.

“And we still can’t find the Arkenstone! I hate to say it but I fear one of them has…”

Bilbo perked up as his hand went straight to his pocket. Thorin trailed off, at Bilbo’s odd behavior, and he found himself having to give Thorin a sheepish grin.

“Thorin…I meant to tell you earlier today, but then Dwalin came and…well, I think you should look at what I found. At least I certainly hope this is the right stone. Doesn’t seem like anything else in there.”

Thorin stared down at the glowing gem in Bilbo’s hand with a dumbfounded expression.

“The Arkenstone. You’ve…had the Arkenstone?”

“Well you see, when I entered the treasury…”

“You’re…amazing!”

Bilbo gasped before giving a breathless chuckle as he was picked up and spun by Thorin. When he was set back on his feet, Thorin nearly bent him in half with the force of his kiss.

“You are truly the greatest treasure in my mountain.”

Bilbo giggled in response, looking up only to see Thorin’s eyes had settled on the Arkenstone once more. A warning tickled at the back of his mind, but he ignored it. He had made enough assumptions about Thorin. Instead, Bilbo gave an over exaggerated bow before presenting the stone.

“Your Majesty.”

Thorin smirked, but took the outstretched gem with glee. Bilbo almost would have been jealous of the pretty rock had the dwarf not thrown an arm around Bilbo’s waist pulling him in close to nuzzle into his neck. Goodness! Bilbo was going to have to get used to all this physical affection, not that he was even remotely complaining.

“Come! We should tell the Company of your discovery.”

Bilbo followed after Thorin with a quick wistful look back at his valley. There would be time to visit again soon, he was certain. He just hated how this felt like a goodbye. His fingers found the acorn again, remembering Thorin’s declaration and following his king with a large grin. Everything was all going to work out. There was no need for Thorin to know just how long he held onto the Arkenstone. Certainly not with all the other concerns on his plate, and Bilbo hoped the Company would be ecstatic not to have to dig in treasure all day anymore.

***

Bilbo kept his smile in place as much as he could after Thorin’s declaration, but something was wrong. The Company was not happy to see the Arkenstone in Thorin’s hands. While most watched with a blank expression, there were several who seemed downright angry at the sight. Alarm bells were sounded in his head. Perhaps Thorin had been right about this too! Just how much had Bilbo missed by being so concerned over Thorin’s mental wellbeing.

“And now, a reward for my ghivashel (treasure of all treasures) for finding the greatest treasure in the mountain.”

Bilbo tried not to be too offended by the sounds of disgust as Thorin held out a glittering piece of mail for him. He could tell from Balin’s gasp that this must be a great prize indeed.

“Oh Thorin, you don’t have to…”

Thorin gave him an imploring look, and Bilbo stopped his protests, swallowing thickly. It went against his hobbit sensibilities to accept something so fine without protest. Especially considering he hadn’t given the Arkenstone to Thorin right away and therefore didn’t deserve it. However, he felt obligated to show his support to Thorin in the light of so few of the others being able to.

“I mean, of course, my King. I accept your gift gladly.”

Bilbo slipped off his coat and vest allowing Thorin to help him get the blasted thing on. He was more than a little surprised by how lightweight the mail was considering it had to be made of some sort of metal, and when he felt it the cool rings were woven so tight, it was like lace. It was extraordinary for sure, and he was certain it was far too grand for a simple hobbit. However, Thorin smiled so brightly to see him clad so, his eyes almost hungry in a way that sent a shiver of excitement through Bilbo’s being.

“You have shown yourself to be a true friend, Bilbo Baggins. Something that is hard to come by these days. I hope to count you as such for years to come.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Bilbo breathed, his eyes twinkling as all he wanted to do was kiss him silly.

With that, Thorin concluded the ceremony of sorts and led Bilbo away. When they were out of sight of the Company Thorin wrapped Bilbo in his arms, and found his lips immediately. It seems he had the same idea as Bilbo.

“My clever, beautiful hobbit.” Thorin groaned between kisses.

Bilbo felt his ears wiggle as he pressed closer to Thorin, running his hands through his greasy hair and making his chainmail jingle every time it rubbed against Thorin’s own. Bilbo began to wonder just how far Thorin wanted to take this as he sucked on his lips and tongue when Thorin pulled just slightly away. His grin assured Bilbo of nothing being wrong.

“You can’t even imagine how badly I want you right now.”

Bilbo’s eyes flickered down to his crotch before giving a cheeky grin.

“I may have an idea.”

Thorin threw his head back in laughter before pressing his forehead against Bilbo’s own.

“If only we had more time.”

“More time?” Bilbo questioned in confusion.

“The men and elves send their armies against us. As if they haven’t degraded us enough, they surely mean to march us out of our mountain in chains while they loot our halls.”

Bilbo frowned. Just where was this coming from?

“And to make matters worse, my company does not seem to support me.”

Bilbo softened at this before giving Thorin a soft chaste kiss. The company’s attitude was definitely a problem. A problem Bilbo intended to solve. And if they were truly goldsick and intended to harm Bilbo, that’s what his ring was for.

“I’ll deal with the company. And then we’ll sort out this nasty business with Bard and Thranduil together. You shall never have to carry such burdens alone again.”

Thorin laughed again before pressing another kiss to Bilbo’s lips and his cheeks and his forehead.

“How did I ever get so lucky as to meet you?”

“A grumpy dwarf I know once told me he doesn’t believe in luck. We make our own luck.”

Thorin pinched Bilbo’s side, and the hobbit jumped away howling in laughter.

“Cheeky thing. Be off with you or else.”

“Or else what?” Bilbo pressed.

“Or else I’ll ravage you.” Thorin promised, his eyes dark with desire.

Bilbo felt himself go breathless. “That doesn’t sound like much of a threat. Can we turn it into a promise instead?”

Thorin pressed another long, lingering kiss to his lips that had Bilbo’s toes curling.

“Very well. It’s a promise.”

Bilbo was practically skipping as he dodged the rubble of Erebor’s halls to find the company. He thought he would start with Balin. The older dwarf was usually capable of seeing common sense, and he was the one who warned Bilbo about giving the stone to Thorin. It was Bilbo’s best test for whether the company truly suffered from goldsickness. He didn’t know what he would do if that turned out to be the case.

He blamed his distracted state for what happened next. Thoughts full of Thorin and what he would do to him later, Bilbo didn’t even notice the boots sneaking up on him until it was too late. One hand was pressed over his mouth and another wrapped around his middle as Nori whispered in his ear.

“You’re coming with us, Burglar.”

***

“Let me go! Let ME GO!” Bilbo demanded, fighting Nori and Bofur the entire time they hauled him along.

They had his hands bound behind his back so there was no chance of reaching his pocket, leading him further and further away from the main halls and the treasury. There was very little chance Thorin could hear him, and it was a fact that was blaring in Bilbo’s mind. He’s never been so terrified of his friends than he was right now. He had no idea what they were capable of under the influence of the goldsickness. And that was the only explanation for this behavior. His friends would never treat him as such otherwise.

“Quit making such a fuss, hobbit. We’re almost there.” Nori grunted.

“He’s certainly a slippery thing.” Bofur commented as Bilbo briefly managed to get out of his hold before he tightened it again.

A room appeared at the end of the hallway, and Bofur and Nori all but shoved him inside before closing the door behind him. Bilbo stumbled for a moment, regaining his balance, only to look up and feel his heart plummeting. They were all here. The whole company. Going along with this insane plan to…what? Ransom him to Thorin for treasure? They already had a fourteenth share each! Why would majority of the treasury not be enough?

“By Mahal…I said lead Bilbo to us! Why is he tied up?” Balin cried aghast, giving Bilbo pause.

“Because the little sneak kept reaching for his magic ring. I figured this was the better option to him being invisible and running back to tell Thorin on us.” Nori explained.

Bilbo turned to Balin with hope in his eyes. Maybe they weren’t all gone just yet.

“Please, my friend. You must see this is madness! You’re all sick, but it’s okay. We can help you find a cure. You just have to let me go.”

Everyone ducked their heads, avoiding Bilbo’s gaze except for Dwalin who gave a snort.

“It’s not us who are mad, Hobbit.”

“I’m not mad.” Bilbo defended.

“No, but your friend is.” Nori snapped.

“My frie…”

Bilbo’s eyes dropped to the mithril just visible under the collar of his shirt. He could feel his cheeks blazing as he wondered if the others were aware of just what kind of regard Thorin truly held for him. He imagined from some of the smirks on their face that the answer was ‘yes. They were quite aware.’

“Bilbo,” Balin stated, trying to get the conversation back on track. “Thorin…he’s sick. Very sick. And you giving him the Arkenstone…might have just pushed him into the abyss.”

Bilbo shook his head, ears ringing, as he denied everything Balin was telling him. Thorin wasn’t sick! Bilbo checked, he…he has been making odd claims but that could just be stress!

“He told me he loved me.” Bilbo confessed quietly.

Gloin was the one to speak up in the deafening silence that followed. “Lad, I need you to think long and hard because your answer might just change everything. Did he actually say that?”

Bilbo nodded immediately even as his mind began to whirl thinking back on all their interactions of late. His insistence slowed, and his thoughts went numb. He’s never…actually said it. He’s not confessed anything about his regard except his desire to ravage him. However, Bilbo hasn’t exactly said it to Thorin either. What’s it matter if the words have been spoken or not? So lost in his thoughts, Bilbo didn’t even realize he was being released until his hands flopped down to his sides. He glared at Nori for good measure as he rubbed his wrists.

“Under the goldsickness,” Gloin continued as if reading Bilbo’s mind. “You can love nothing more than the gold. Even if that person is your One. Make him say it Bilbo. You have to if we want the old Thorin back.”

“Why would I do that? Why should I trust you not to be as goldsick as you claim Thorin to be after everything you’ve done? Friends don’t kidnap each other after all!”

Everyone looked around, sharing sheepish looks when Fili stepped forward. He stopped right in front of Bilbo before gently bumping his head.

“I love you, Uncle Bilbo.”

Kili followed soon after declaring his love for his ‘Uncle Bilbo’ as well. After that everyone in the company declared their love in some form or another. If they couldn’t tell Bilbo they loved him, they declared their love for their brother or their wife and children in Bombur and Gloin’s case. Bilbo felt himself so overwhelmed by the magnitude of what was happening that a tear or two escaped his eyes.

“Okay,” He finally agreed quietly when everyone finished. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“We can ask nothing more, Master Baggins. Thank you for always being the most courageous of the lot of us.” Balin stated kindly.

It didn’t feel like courage. In fact, as a stone seemed to sink deep into his stomach at the mere thought of Thorin not saying it, Bilbo would rather put on his ring and run far away.

***

Bilbo found Thorin in the treasury amongst the gold which did not bode well for what he was about to do. He could feel his hands shaking as he approached the king.

“Bilbo!” Thorin greeted brightly as soon as he spotted him. “How did it go?”

Bilbo thought about telling him about his haphazard kidnapping, but decided he didn’t need Thorin incensed if he was going to get him to say ‘I love you’. What if they weren’t there yet? What if Thorin didn’t love him? Just liked the idea of having sex with him?

“Bilbo?” Thorin questioned, his brows knitting in concern.

“Fili told me he loved me.” Bilbo blurted, confusing them both. “You know in a ‘I think of you as an uncle’ kind of way.”

“Okay?” Thorin responded.

“I love them too, so you know.” Bilbo continued as he walked closer to Thorin. “They’re like the nephews I’ve never had. I hope you don’t mind.”

Thorin’s smile turned breath-takingly bright. “No, it brings me great joy to know you care for my sister-sons.”

Care. Not love.

“Because you love them, right?”

Thorin gave him another perplexed look. “Bilbo, where is this coming from?”

“I’m just…trying to establish a base here. You love Fili and Kili. Do you…love me? I mean, it’s alright if you don’t. I understand if it’s too soon. Leggy Goold used to say ‘you should never use the l-word unless you’ve danced with that person at least three times, but he was a bit promiscuous after all and…”

Thorin silenced Bilbo’s ramblings with a kiss. It was so gentle, yet insistent, that Bilbo just wanted to melt into a pile on the floor. Thorin’s smile when he pulled away was soft and indulgent, and Bilbo couldn’t believe for a moment that he even thought to doubt this dwarf. Then he opened his mouth and Bilbo’s heart plummeted.

“I treasure you.”

Bilbo took a step back, his eyes wide and knees knocking. Thorin looked so lost and hurt, that Bilbo felt himself ache.

“What’s wrong, ibinê (my gem)?”

“Say you love me. If that’s how you feel, then say it. Those exact words.”

“Bilbo, what’s gotten into you?” Thorin demanded.

“I need to hear those words Thorin.”

“Why?” He questioned, his brow raised in suspicion. “Why do you need to hear it all of a sudden?”

“Because…”

“Because?”

“Because I fear for your mind!” Bilbo finally snapped.

Thorin stopped, his expression pained before a dark look overtook him. He began stalking towards him, and Bilbo backed up for every step Thorin took forward.

“I thought we had already been through this before.”

“I didn’t know what to look for then.”

“And you do now?”

“The company told me…”

“The COMPANY?!” Thorin roared, shocking Bilbo into slipping and falling on the gold. “Of course they would turn you against me! And you actually fell for it?! Do you not trust me?!”

“I trust you!” Bilbo shouted back at him. “I trust the real you! The Thorin who wouldn’t go back on his word when dealing with the men. The Thorin who would never doubt the loyalty or love of his kin! You have changed Thorin Oakenshield, whether you see it or not!”

Thorin took another step, reaching out as if to snag Bilbo by the collar of his shirt, and the hobbit panicked. Slipping on his ring and out of sight of the sick king, he scrambled to his feet running for the door. Pausing just for a moment when he heard Thorin call out his name, followed by a litany of apologies. Tears in his eyes, he ran back to the company. They needed to know that Thorin was as sick as they feared.

***

Bilbo didn’t get another chance to see Thorin again during the battle that followed until he arrived just in time to pitch a rock at Azog’s head, saving Fili’s life in the process. He had been to see both his honorary nephews in the healing tents. Fili’s leg was broken but should heal. Kili managed to escape with naught more than a good sized gash in his side, thanks to Fili and Tauriel’s quick actions that kept it from ramming through his heart. Then there was Thorin.

Bilbo wandered into the tent, after many company member’s encouragement, almost unable to stand the sight of Thorin so broken and weak. His final showdown with Azog nearly cost him his life, but thanks to Thranduil’s better nature was able to save him.

As soon as Bilbo was close enough to make out the steady breathing of the body before him, Thorin’s sky blue eyes lazily drifted towards him before widening in surprise. He tried to push himself up in a seated position, but Bilbo quickly rushed to his side. He gently pushed him back down with whispered soothing demands.

“Don’t get up. Rest now. You’re okay, Thorin.”

“Bilbo, I love you.” Thorin rasped, his throat rough with disuse.

Bilbo froze, almost unable to believe what he was hearing.

“Thorin, it’s okay. You don’t have to…”

“No!” Thorin urged with a groan before shakily reaching for Bilbo’s hand. “I need you to know…I’m not sick. Not anymore. You broke through the madness, you saved me Bilbo.”

Bilbo smiled weakly. He was glad to hear it. So glad to know Thorin was free. But a part of him still mourned.

“And is that why you say it?” He asked brokenly. “Because you can?”

Thorin shook his head, his breathing becoming laborious.

“Because it is the truth. I do love you. And I need you to know that. Even if you must leave me for your Shire. I will plant a thousand acorns to honor you.”

“Okay, shh now.” Bilbo ordered, noticing his increased agitation.

He ran his free hand through Thorin’s hair, squeezing back on the hand still trapping his own. There was still one more matter that needed to be cleared up.

“I could never leave you. I love you, Thorin. But you should know…I hadn’t just stumbled upon the Arkenstone. I had it in my pocket. Ever since our battle with Smaug.”

Thorin gave him a perplexed look, and Bilbo continued to run his hand soothingly through Thorin’s hair. As if that would stave the anger he knew the dwarf should be feeling, and yet, Thorin’s next words stole his breath away.

“Why should that matter, azyungel (love of all loves)?”

“Because.” Bilbo blurted with not a clue where he was going with it. “I…stole from you! I knew you desired that stone, but would have gladly hidden it from you. I…”

“But you didn’t.” Thorin interrupted.

He shakily brought Bilbo’s hand up to press a kiss against his knuckles.

“You kept it out of a desire to see me well, and entrusted it to me when you thought it was right to do so. Truly Bilbo, you are no Burglar.”

Bilbo laughed alongside him as he pressed a kiss to Thorin’s forehead, far too relieved to feel anything else. Bilbo began to daydream about living in Erebor and having many years with his dwarf staring out on the mountainside where they shared their first kiss. Their conversation did wonders for Thorin as he finally was able to settle down. His body relaxed and his eyes closed against his will, ready to drag him back into the healing power of sleep. Strangely, it brought to mind another promise made by the dwarf king.

“You know,” Bilbo smirked. “You owe me a ravaging.”

Thorin’s laugh was more like a cough, but a grin remained fixed in place.

“I promise, amrâlimê (my love). As soon as I am able to.”

“And after that?”

“Many times after that.”

Bilbo petted his head until he fell asleep, thinking that was certainly a promise worth holding onto. Bilbo reached in to grab at the little seed that had led him to this point. How lucky he was indeed.

#sunny's fics #the hobbit #bagginshield #99 problems but our love ain't one #goldsickness #bilbo and thorin against the world mentality

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luna-writes-stuff · 9 months

Text

Chapter XLIII

A Kili X OC fic

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Tw: Feelings. A long awaited chapter, if you will. Emotions??? Crying?? Really mild for my doing.

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You know what’s scarier than a dragon? Feelings.

Raewyn didn't remember falling asleep in his chambers that night. Everything had gone by in a flash. She remembered waking up before him, slanted against the wooden frame of his bed, still seated on the floor, the slight brush of his arm against hers. It was enough to raise a sinking feeling in her stomach. Not one of desperation or grief - it was a nice feeling.

She remembered gently waking him and thanking him for comforting her. After that, one of the younger girls from Laketown helped her into one of her dresses, most suitable for a funeral. She had helped the girl back to her mother in the big halls of Erebor, before entering the Gallery of Kings, now littered with a golden floor. On the higher steps of the stairs, she could already see Thorin, Bard and Thranduil, accompanied by a handful of elves and men. What caused her breath to hold momentarily was seeing Fili and Kili up there in regal robes, standing beside Thorin proudly. With the time spent on their quest, Raewyn had slowly begun to forget that the two were indeed royalty, and had lawfully been considered princes. They never held that atmosphere of authority that Thorin seemed to ooze; it was easy to see past the fact that they had a right to a throne. And though she had been raised without hierarchy and with disdain towards kingdoms, she couldn't help but bow her head slightly to the pair.

The commemoration of the fallen soldiers had been long and emotional. Raewyn hadn't lost anyone close to her - thankfully - but the sobbing of men and wailing of children was enough to cause her to blink back a few tears. She couldn't deny that the loss had been too great for words, even though the kings had done their best to try so. She didn't know how long she had been in that room, but when they came back out, sun had already set. Granted, there had been a big dinner and party afterwards to celebrate the lives and future of the people of Erebor and Dale, but she hadn't anticipated for an entire day to pass by.

All throughout the party, all she truly felt was anxiety. Bilbo would be leaving the next day, and she had yet to answer Thorin's offer. There was fright and fear in accepting the proposal for reasons she could not quite place. She wanted to stay, but simultaneously felt as if that would be intruding, even if everyone in the mountain would personally assure her that that wouldn't be a necessity. She had done her absolute best to hide from Kili, a new-found fear climbing out her body every time someone would even mention his name. She couldn't place where that had come from.

The flash of events came to a halt when she escaped to that all-too-familiar spot above the broken gates to Erebor. She had sneaked some food out for Farris, who was peacefully eating it in front of her. A plus that came with a somewhat magical owl, was that she ate everything and never got sick. That way, Raewyn could sneak out a handful of desserts; a few for her and a few for Farris.

"You were awfully absent today." A voice suddenly cut through the silent ambiance, alerting both Raewyn and Farris of the new presence. Neither seemed surprised by it. Raewyn turned around slightly, forcing a smile onto her face. "Did you follow me here?" Kili grinned at that, walking up to the two.

"Perhaps."

The Asha scanned his figure, that same atmosphere as this afternoon suddenly flushing through her. He seemed to ooze royalty now.

"You look regal." She remarked. Immediately, his energy seemed to change, his eyes rolling around as he made a silly face, clumsily lifting the great cloak off of his shoulders. "It's so heavy." He exaggerated in true Kili fashion. The material hit the floor with a heavy thud, before Kili sat down next to it, rolling his shoulders back. "That's better."

Raewyn couldn't suppress the brief chuckle at his antics, shaking her head at him. Kili's eyes found hers, slowly drifting to her dress. "How is your back?" She shrugged as if it was nothing, ignoring the scratching of her bandages.

"Aching. Burning. Nothing new."

Kili didn't seem to catch on to her nonchalant figure, his eyebrows furrowing together in hurt. "It's been worse. You shouldn't worry about it." She tried to reassure. He just nodded in a mocking manner.

"I'll stop worrying when you can't feel it anymore."

"How are your hands?" Raewyn tried to change the subject, referring to his still bandaged hands. "Sore." He muttered, flexing his fingers as if to make his point. A mischievous smile climbed onto his face as he looked up at her through his lashes. "It's been worse." Raewyn scoffed at that in humour, leaning her head back slightly. She tried to regulate the expressions on her face. As long as he thought you were okay, a voice echoed in her head. Her smile, however, seemed to fall quicker than intended, now replaced by a far-off stare. Kili noticed it immediately.

"Are you alright?"

She looked at him, mentally cursing herself for dropping her mood so quickly. "Peachy." She tried to placate, but when Kili didn't answer that, she knew he didn't believe her. With a heavy sigh, she fed Farris another piece, ignoring the rough tugging on her heartstring. "I feel tense - on edge." She confessed, now looking down at the owl, somewhat anxious to meet his gaze. It didn't help that he seemed to look at her regardless of where her eyes fell. She could feel his worried eyes on her.

"What for?"

"I don't know." She muttered. "It's like the imminent dread of some sort of event. It feels inescapable."

Kili let out a silent 'ah' of understanding, nodding along with it, even though she couldn't see it. "Any way I can help?"

"No," She answered. I think you're actually making it worse.

She didn't dare to say that out loud, even if it was the truth. She was already feeling inner turmoil, but at the mere mention of his name or brief glances of him thrown her way seemed to only amplify it, a heavy pit settling into her stomach. Him actually talking to her made her want to dig a hole in the concrete floor and lay in it for an undecided amount of time.

When it became clear she wasn't going to comment on it any further, Kili tried to change the topic: "Bilbo is leaving as soon as the sun rises." And the sinking feeling in her stomach seemed to have reached the bottom, an almost nauseating feeling now rising up. She hated it. Even when facing Smaug, she hadn't felt like this. It was terrible - she hated it. She felt incredibly hot, and began to pay a lot of attention to her breathing. Not because it began to speed up; because it seemed to be the only thing she could hear clearly.

"So he told me." She tried to play off. "It's weird - I'm already missing the little bugger." Kili mumbled, his voice hitting her even harder.

"I'll tell him you said that." She mused absentmindedly. She didn't know if she actually said it out loud, because the dwarf didn't speak afterwards. It was just a sudden silence - perhaps comfortable for him, but it was dreadful for her. She needed to talk about something else. Anything else.

"What will happen once the dwarves have returned to the mountain?" She managed out, still not meeting his eyes. She heard Kili laugh slightly at her question. "All the dwarrowdams will be wearing all kinds of silly dresses. And I don't doubt there will be many awfully stupid meetings. A kingdom back on the rise will likely do that." Trying to copy his sarcasm, she nodded along: "That sounds entertaining." "It's dreadful," He claimed. "But if you'll stay, I could talk with the fun captain of the guard."

That felt like a direct shot to the heart. A shallow breath escaped Raewyn as she coughed, trying to cover up the deep sigh. "Yeah, perhaps."

Kili frowned at that. Perhaps he had been oblivious to the sudden shift in her mood, but the sigh definitely did not go unheard by him: "Does the offer cause you stress? Because, if it does, you can take your time making the decision. Dwalin could take over in the mean time."

Yes, she wanted to scream. Instead, what came out was a curt "it feels odd".

"The dragon is dead, Erebor is reclaimed. Dale will be rebuild." "Yes," The dwarf agreed. "The start of a new era. It's odd to see it happen, I suppose. It's something you only ever hear in tales."

She didn't know what it was in his words, but she hated it. Her hands had begun to shake and she was having a hard time covering it up. Something was so terribly wrong. The whole situation seemed wrong. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to do with Thorin's offer, she didn't know what to do with Bilbo's leaving, she didn't know what to do after Erebor had been reclaimed. She never imagined ever meeting Kili. He was the reason she went through all this unneeded stress right now. If it wasn't for him, she would have easily rejected Thorin. She would have left with Bilbo days ago and she would have never thought of Erebor again. Kili had ruined everything. And she hated that she couldn't even hate him for it.

Standing up quickly, she heaved another deep exhale, forcing back tears that had sprung into her eyes during the stress. She wasn't even sad. She just didn't know what to do. It was so much at once and she couldn't talk about it. She couldn't even properly think about it.

God, Kili terrified her.

"I'm not feeling too well." She managed out, leaving all the desserts on the floor for Farris. Before she could even walk past Kili, he had also risen from his spot, his hand finding hers. The skip in her heart was almost enough to let her crumble right now.

Almost.

"Should I get Oín?" He wondered in concern. "No, I'll be fine." Raewyn dismissed, ripping her hand from Kili's, doing her best to regulate her breathing. "I think I shall return to my chambers."

"Should I walk with you?"

"No." She spoke immediately, a gesture that made Kili recoil slightly. "I'm sorry," She apologized. "I appreciate the gesture, but..." I don't want you around me. She didn't tell him that. Of course she wouldn't. Why was this so hard all of the sudden?

"I can find my way. Bard was asking for you a short while ago. That's likely more important." "I doubt that." He countered stubbornly. "Kili, please?" Raewyn pleaded. "If only to soothe my mind?"

Whether it was the terrified glance in her eyes or her rigid form, Kili seemed to adamantly agree to her words. "Alright," He sighed. "Get some rest." She nodded quickly, before rushing towards the entry to the mountain. She could feel her heart pound against her chest with every move. Not in a cliche way, but in a way that left her truly scared. She was scared that she was this frightened. The last few weeks had been lived on pure adrenaline, but she had never been this terrified. Not when facing Smaug, not when battling with the orcs, not when plunging into a freezing lake. Not when she was facing nearly certain death. She was frantic in a way she had never been before and she couldn't understand why.

The second her feet stepped through her bedroom door, she collapsed to the floor, her shaking hands slamming the door shut, before her shoulder rested against it. It was all his stupid fault. She wouldn't have gone through this if it wasn't for him. She knew he would never want her to feel this just because of him, and part of it made the entire ordeal even worse. It made her hysterical. This was awful. This was sickening. Who was to say what would happen if she stayed? Would she have to go through this every single day? That would be a true nightmare.

The flurry of events and anxiety didn't calm down until she had fallen asleep against the hardwood door, her cheeks puffed and her skin red, in that same black dress the girl had given her that morning. She felt little peace in her sleep, but at least she was out. It was the most rest she'd get for now.

——

The sun had just risen when Raewyn found herself in front of Bilbo's chambers, her old recovered armour covering her figure. She only had to knock once before the door was opened, her familiar friend welcoming her with a brief smile before returning to his packing. Wordlessly, she stepped into the room, watching him sort out the last of his things. When he finally closed the bag, she gave him a hopeful glance. She could see some sort of turmoil in his eyes, and she had only hoped he hadn't changed his mind.

"Ready to go?" She asked him hesitantly. Bilbo looked at his own stuff, before letting his eyes run over Raewyn, doubt clear in his features. It didn't soften as he spoke his next words: "Are you?"

His words took aback, and she couldn't help but let out a scoffed chuckle at it. "Why would I not be?" Bilbo stopped his movements, exhaling deeply as he patted his hands to his side uncomfortably. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself quickly. When Raewyn didn't respond to it, he resumed his notion: "Look," he sighed. "I know this isn't my place to say, but there is so much keeping you here. Why would you leave?"

Silence filled the room upon his question, and neither of them could really predict what the other was going to say. Of all the things Raewyn had expected, she never expected her friend to insinuate she should stay here. She figured he'd be delighted that she came with him. It would offer extra safety, she thought of them as close friends, and he had always spoken to her about the Shire. And now he was asking her why she would join him?

Why did she join him? It wasn't because it was her goal in life to find a home in the Shire. It was too calm for her liking. She'd be surrounded by hobbits who would continuously stare at her, and she'd be obligated to bother Bilbo every second of the day. There were no conflicts she could help with, or spaces she could explore when she'd grow bored. She'd inevitably grow bored. However peaceful it sounded, the Shire was no place for an Asha, even if they spent their lives defending it.

She also didn't want to go back into the wilds. It'd be much too different now. Somewhere along the journey she had begun to forsake the life she had grown so accustomed to. Perhaps she wanted to return to it just for the familiarity of it; not because she liked it.

Bilbo's voice tore her out of her thoughts, which she hadn't even known she was stuck in. "You don't want to go." It wasn't a question; it was a statement. If it had been a guess, it would have been an excellent guess. She wasn't going to admit that out loud.

"They don't want me here, Bilbo. Not really." Raewyn spoke up. Not in a defeated tone, or a tone laced with sadness, no - she spoke it as if it was a well-known fact. To her, it was. "I'm not a dwarf; this isn't my place."

"You're scared." Bilbo countered, shocking even himself that those words tumbled out so easily. Furrowing her eyebrows together in offence, she stared at him. "No, I'm not." "Yes, you are," The hobbit returned, surprised at himself for going against Raewyn, who could easily knock him out if she wanted to, especially if she was angry. She seemed angry now. Be that as it may, he continued: "You're scared that you won't belong."

"Of course I don't belong," She noted in a slightly raised voice, as if it was the most apparent fact of all time. There was no emotion behind it. And if there was, Bilbo couldn't hear it. "I've known that all my life. It doesn't scare me." "It doesn't scare you to be alone?" The hobbit repeated confused. "No." Raewyn denied, shaking her head to emphasise her point.

Swallowing thickly, Bilbo balanced on the balls of his feet, nodding his head in feigned belief. His friend didn't notice the faked expression. "You're stronger than me," he simply stated. "I'd be terrified."

A soft smile appeared on Raewyn's face as she listened to him: "You're a hobbit. You're sociable by nature. I was raised alone." Her justification didn't seem right to him, but he refused to completely argue with her logic. "That doesn't mean that it shouldn't scare you." He mumbled in empathy, refusing to meet the Asha's gaze. When she figured out he wasn't going to look at her, she just closed her eyes in frustration, turning around as she pointed towards the door.

"Can we just go?"

The hobbit followed her instructions silently, risking one last look into the room he had slept in for the past days, before ultimately closing the door. Raewyn let him lead the way. The dwarves had prepared their departure from Bilbo, but she hadn't told them anything about her own choice. Bilbo was going to say goodbye, as they had planned, and she'd wait outside. Perhaps keeping her venture a secret wasn't the best idea, but knowing the company, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

The morning air was cold, hot clouds forming from her mouth as she stood outside, watching Farris circle her continuously. Gandalf had stood beside her in silence, though his looks said enough. He knew arguing with her would be futile, but the least he could do was give her a couple glances. She felt it. She wasn't going to respond to them.

Before long, Bilbo finally emerged from the gates, a troubled expression on his face. He awkwardly nodded towards the pair, contradicting what both the ranger and wizard had expected - Bilbo was ecstatic to go home. They had expected a slight smile or relieved sigh. Not this uncomfortable nod. He didn't speak, he didn't mutter - nothing. The pair just followed him silently, unsure of what to say or do. A heavy feeling settled in Raewyn's pit the further they strayed from the mountain. They weren't even in Dale yet when the lump in her throat had become scratchy and painful.

Almost as if he could sense it, Bilbo turned around, stopping in his steps. Swallowing down the unpleasant lump, Raewyn tilted her head slightly. "Bilbo?" "What makes you happy, Raewyn?" He asked without skipping a beat, giving her an accusing look. It was the first thing he had said since leaving Erebor.

It wasn't the fact that they had been walking for a handful of minutes now and those were his words - it was the stone cold undertone to his question that had taken her aback. "Beg your pardon?" "What makes you happy?" He repeated, his voice even colder now, as if she had just committed the greatest crime known to him. Be that as it may, she tried to make light of the situation, not looking forward to days of walking in another hostile silence.

"Um, rain?" She thought aloud. "The smell of freshly baked bread?" Bilbo refused to answer, which caused her to let out a hesitant 'hedgehogs?'.

"Not that." The hobbit dismissed. "Well, that's what makes me happy." "No, it doesn't." Bilbo interrupted. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the wizard shift slightly, chuckling under his breath with an ever-so-prominent smile.

"Sorry?" "Rain doesn't make you happy." The hobbit went on. "I don't think you truly know what can make me happy." Her tone had dropped slightly, no longer amused with Bilbo's speech. "Oh, but I do," He ignored her underlying threat. "So, I'll ask you again; what makes you happy, Raewyn? Genuinely happy."

"Warm sheets." She deadpanned. When she received the same glare from Bilbo, she rolled her eyes, genuinely thinking her answer over. There were a hundred little things she could mention, but she knew it wouldn't satisfy Bilbo. She didn't know what would. There was truly only one thing that she dare speak aloud that might give him some contentment: "Peace?"

"Peace?" Bilbo repeated with a somewhat relieved sigh. "For who?"

For who? She could have wished peace upon everyone - wishing it for herself would seem selfish. But, then again, it had been the one thing she had been longing for for years: a home. Somewhere safe and content. A happy place, without malice or hurt.

"Myself," She confessed, but not without a scoff. "To not fight every day. A place I could call home." She then pointed to her friend, a heavy breath following her words in defeat. "Kind of what you have." "A home," Bilbo voiced with content, finally satisfied with her answer. "That's here. Why do you run from it?" There was that dreadful lump in her throat again. Just when she had begun to forget about it, it returned, now twice its weight. Bilbo was her friend. If she couldn't be honest to him, who could she be honest to?

"What if I am scared?" She whispered, her lower lip shaking slightly. Bilbo's face softened at her question, even though it did not come as a surprise to him.

"You are?" "What if, one day, he wakes and doesn't want to see me anymore? There'd be nothing left for me there." He couldn't resist the sympathetic smile forming on his face, his shoulders dropping with his words.

"Raewyn, I don't think anyone will ever love you more than he does. I don't even think Gandalf makes a valuable opponent." The hobbit spoke, as he nodded his head towards the wizard, who had simply stood there and watched the endeavour unfold. "I'm not ready to settle for that life," Raewyn mumbled, swallowing thickly. "I might never be." "You'll never be if you keep wondering." Bilbo answered gently, his unrelenting attitude finally calming down.

The Asha turned to Gandalf in slight panic, hoping to seek aid from him. "Gandalf-" "Don't look at me," He smiled. "You've been on your own for far too long." The desperation was clear on her face. Having already been in turmoil, her friend's word didn't exactly offer her any form of comfort or reassurance, and Bilbo could see it written all over her.

"Actually," He coughed. "I don't want you on this journey. I don't want you to travel with me." It wasn't spoken in a soft manner, for he knew it would be futile. No - this was a command. "You should go back."

With a crestfallen expression, she looked upon her friend, unsure of what to do. She could only bow her head in understanding. "The Shire isn't what you're looking for, not really," The hobbit continued, his tone much more gentle as he walked towards Raewyn. "And maybe you don't know this yet, for whatever dull reason, but you're not looking for a place. You told me this yourself. Home isn't somewhere; it's someone." His hand found her lower arm, giving it a comforting hold. "'Home isn't a place, Bilbo. It's people'." He quoted. "Weren't those your exact words?"

"I don't recall saying that." "Misty Mountains, after we encountered the stone gi- look, it doesn't matter." He trailed off. "What matters is that you have people who want you with them. Even the one person you've spend your entire life loathing wants you to stay." He paused shortly, trying not to get worked up over Raewyn's indecision. "You have something good there, Raewyn. I don't even think I have that in my house. You're not going to find that anywhere else, ever again."

Hopeful eyes met hers as she did her best to keep her emotions in, frightened it would be too much once it would flow free. However, Bilbo's next words seemed to break the dam building in her eyes: "Please, go back."

Quickly wiping away a stray tear, Raewyn grabbed onto Bilbo's shoulders. "I'll miss you," She managed out, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I'll miss you too. Very much, so." Careful not to put too much pressure on her back, the hobbit wrapped Raewyn into a warm hug - one that she was quick to reciprocate. "I've grown fond of you, Bilbo." She sniffed, parting from him, yet keeping him at an arm's length distance. "Don't do anything stupid. Keep yourself safe, for my sake." He nodded his head feverishly at her words, bowing his head in farewell afterwards: "I do hope you'll come to visit sometimes." A heartfelt snicker tore from her as she once wiped away another tear that had fallen.

"I'll visit you so often, I'll begin to bother your neighbours." He smiled in return, his eyes now glossy as well.

"That'd be lovely."

Before he could fully break, Raewyn had turned to Gandalf, her smile fading into an unsure expression. "My dear Raewyn," the wizard began, his eyes narrowing with his joyful expression. "I've been alone before, but this just seems much harder." She confessed, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around him, silently memorising the way he hugged her back. Just in case.

"Oh, but you won't be alone, will you?" Gandalf chuckled, parting from her with a grin. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks, but refused to comment on the matter.

"Don't become a stranger."

"You won't have to worry about that." The wizard winked, walking up to the hobbit, grasping his shoulder in acknowledgment. Bilbo got the silent hint and offered a final wave to his friend.

"Goodbye, Raewyn." "Farewell," She whispered back, remaining there on the frozen floor as she watched the two descend further down the mountain. It wasn't until she saw their two tiny figures near the city of Dale that she finally turned around.

New-found confidence surged through her as she climbed back up, huffing in protest of the sudden exercise her back muscles had gotten. Thranduil had been kind enough to return her armour after the funeral, but it had been nowhere near injury-safe. In fact, the thumping of the metal might have made it worse. She was just grateful Gandalf had healed the most part, and she was left with nothing but scars and a dull ache. Be that as it may, she had laid down for days - she hadn't this much exercise since the battle upon Ravenhill. By the time she had gotten back to the gates of Erebor, she was severely out of breath.

Her heart began to speed up at the thought of facing the dwarves after she left them without telling. Scratch that - she had to face him. Forcing the anxious feeling down, she grunted loudly, shooting a helpless glance at the sky, as if someone was going to help her. "Fighting a dragon was easier." She mumbled under her breath, before ultimately walking back into the gates.

She was confused to see no one stand guard, but figured it had still been too early. The entry hall was empty, and her footsteps echoed through the halls. Farris, who had loyally followed Raewyn inside, had now found a spot upon the unlit chandelier, already pecking at her feathers. Confidence faded into hesitance when she saw Nori's figure walking the empty halls, his back to her. She must have been too loud, because he turned around quickly, a surprised look on his face. He was swift to notice her weathered armour and heavy cloak around her. It was easy for him to piece two by two together.

"Lass, you're leaving too?"

"Where's Kili?" She dismissed, completely out of breath, but still on the high of her adrenaline. Wordlessly, the dwarf pointed towards the large hole in the wall that led to the hall of kings. Raewyn nodded in gratitude, immediately taking off in that direction, not giving herself more time to overthink it.

In the room was a small group of dwarves picking up the rubble from broken pillars Smaug had left. Among them, Raewyn recognised Gloin and Bifur. On the other side, she could see a second, even smaller group of dwarves, who seemed lost in conversation. Kili found her before she could even see him, pushing through the dwarves with a relieved look on his face. She could vaguely hear his brother utter an apology, but she wasn't focused on that right now. All she could really focus on was trying to keep her breathing down and praying that no one could hear her pounding heart.

"Thank Mahal, you're alright," The dwarf sighed as he ran up to her, grabbing her arms as he inspected her face, trying to look for any form of distress. "We couldn't find you."

When his eyes trailed to his hands, he seemed to realise hadn't been holding on to her tunic - he was holding onto her armour. "You're leaving?" He stuttered out, his face falling immediately.

"I am. I-I was." Raewyn corrected, wincing slightly when Kili's hands dropped from her arms. Heartbroken, he looked at her, his eyebrows furrowed together in hurt. "Why didn't you tell me?" A hesitant sigh slipped past Raewyn's lips as she tried to smile the discomfort off: "Because you'd ask me to stay."

"Is that such a horrible thing?" Kili countered, his voice breaking, causing Raewyn to finally let down her defences. She glances around the room, noticing the crowd of dwarves who had begun to look at the pair of them. Part of her couldn't care less about who saw them now, but she couldn't deny that it still left her feeling slightly out of place. "Kili," She began softly. "I don't belong in the mountain."

"Forget the mountain," He dismissed, not following her eyes. Instead, they looked directly into hers. "You'd leave anywhere without telling me?"

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, her hands squeezing together in attempted reassurance. "I know that wasn't-" "I'm not going to ask you to stay." The dwarf interrupted. Immediately, that build-up courage dropped, all her weight falling into her shoes. "Oh," She breathed, the lump in her throat returning. She had made a fool of herself. Of course he wouldn't ask her to stay if she decided to leave. He respected her wishes, but for once, she wished he would fight for her.

Her mind had already convinced her of rejection, so when he dropped to his knees in front of her, clutching her hands, she stood there frozen, staring at him in clear surprise. "Stay."

"What?" She whispered, her voice almost inaudible. "I need you to stay. Please." He wasn't asking her to stay - he was begging her. She could have cried in relief upon the realization.

"Kili-" "Forget the mountain!" He repeated, fearing she would start arguing again. "I do not care about where or how. I need you to stay with me. That is all." His hands worked to remove one of her gloves, squeezing it tightly when he managed to do so. She didn't fight it. "I need you to stay with me. We could go anywhere. I'd run with you." A deep breath came from him as he looked up at her, the sight of him almost having her drop to her knees as well. "I have spent a lifetime looking for you, and I'm not going to let you leave without at least trying. And I am sorry I didn't try sooner. I should have. But I was scared and stupid and you were truly all I could ever want." He cried. "So, please, don't leave me."

Finally, she held onto his hands, no longer letting them hang loosely beside her. With wide eyes and an open mouth, she stared at him. "I'm not leaving." She whispered. Now, it was his turn to be confused:

"What?"

"Well, I was going to, but- hobbits can be quite rude." She rambled, dropping to her knees in front of him, joining him on the golden floor. "I was terrified," She admitted. "I have never been that scared in my life. Kili, my hands were shaking at the mere thought of you, because all I could think about was how you would eventually tire of me." Tears of lament began to gather in her eyes at the thought.

"How could I ever tire of you?" Kili asked genuinely. One of his hands let go of hers, now raising to her face, cradling her cheek gently. "Raewyn, you could burn down everything and everyone I care for, and I'd still have you."

A choked sob escaped the ranger at his words, a sorrowful smile on her face as she dropped her head, chuckling at her own sadness. "I'm sorry," Kili looked at her, fearing rejection would hit him next.

"No, it's..." He mumbled, trying to push his pain down. "It's alright."

"I didn't- Ki, that's not what I meant." Raewyn corrected, lifting her head to look back at him. "I'm sorry it's me. You deserve more."

"More than you?" He grinned, the tears gathering in his eyes slowly slipping down. "I don't think that exists." She could only laugh poorly at that, sniffing as she attempted to regain her posture. "Stay. Please." The dwarf pleaded for a final time.

The Asha rose to one knee, her hands fumbling with the outer layer of her clothing, seemingly looking for something. When she found it, she took it out of her pocket, dropping it into Kili's open palm. The dwarf stared at the object, his vision now blurring through the emotions. Though he couldn't see it clearly, he knew what she had lain there. A small, silver piece of jewelry, finely engraved with a Dwarvish rune that was only carried by one bloodline the world still held. One bead that Thranduil had returned to Gandalf after the battle.

"Rae-" "It is yours," She cut him off with a hushed tone. "As is my love. But, please," She closed his palm, looking into his eyes with a look he had never seen before. "Put me in a silly dress and take me to your stupid meetings."

A pathetic chuckle came from him as he wiped his tears off on their intertwined hands. "What colour should your silly dress be?" She laughed with him, her forehead falling against his, relishing under the touch.

"Whatever colour you'd like."

Slowly, his head rose from hers, that same boyish, yet emotional grin on his face. It was more mature now, but no less attractive. Before she could really come up with anything to say, both his hands cupped her face, his thumbs rubbing against her cheeks. Gently, he leaned forward, trying to seek any form of discomfort on her face. In response, she copied his movement, halting his hesitance by placing her lips on his. The one leg that had sat up when finding her bead returned back to the floor as her hands wrapped around his neck, forcing herself into his hold, its familiar embrace soothing her still swirling nerves. The way his thumbs were still brushing against her skin did nothing to help the mayhem of butterflies in her stomach, though.

She did not wish to part from him. Not this soon - not now. But in the heat of the moment they forgot they still had an audience, and thus, she parted from him, but not before lingering just a little bit longer than would have been usual.

"You really want to spend the rest of your life with me?" Kili tried to joke, still holding her close. "I'm going to get very annoying."

"I'd burn down kingdoms if it meant I'd get to live my life with you." "Please don't." The dwarf whispered, placing a quick kiss on her lips as she went to move back. When they were separated, his hands ran to his own pockets, pulling out a second bead, similar to the one he had given her before the battle. "Then, I believe this is yours." He placed the tiny piece in her hands, watching the way she clutched it tightly. "My lady." She snickered at his teasing tone, but was happy to copy it nonetheless, letting one hand run through his hair, gazing at him in silent admiration.

"My prince."

——

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

#tolkien #the hobbit #starcrossed losers #kili x reader #kili #kili durin #thorin oakenshield #kili imagine #raewyn asha #fili and kili #kili x oc #Kili x Raewyn #gandalf the grey #Bilbo Baggins

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the-vast-corner-of-the-galaxy · 2 months

Text

The Way It Comes To Be- Chapter 4

Chapter summary: Everything seems to be going okay, but now Thorin has to face his own destiny.

Link on Ao3

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Thorin x Bilbo, Kili x Tauriel

***

Chapter 4: Dawning Renewal

The days in the Lonely Mountain were getting colder as they passed. The leaves of the few trees in this area were bright shades of yellow and orange, and the winds got even stronger and faster. This wasn’t exactly helping the rebuilding of the Kingdom Under The Mountain and Dale since the winds would constantly overthrow the newly built walls or pillars. This placed an insane amount of pressure on all the workers who were trying their best to have everything built by the time winter arrived.

Everyone in both places had a role to play in reconstructing the city: men, elves, and dwarves all worked in rebuilding the houses and buildings from the outside. Most of the women and some elves were working on building farms for agriculture and to make the city aesthetically elegant with plants. Many of Dain’s surviving soldiers, some humans, and Thorin’s Company were rebuilding the palace from the outside and the inside.

The company of the soon-to-be-king was constantly moving everywhere around Dale and Erebor to complete several tasks: attend diplomatic meetings with Thorin, verify the constructions in Dale, go to the constructions on Erebor, and reconstruct the palace.

Despite the chaos, there was a sense of unity and determination among the workers. Dwarves and elves, once sworn enemies, now worked side by side. The men of Laketown, grateful for the refuge and support of their allies, toiled tirelessly to repay the debt they felt they owed.

Bilbo found himself increasingly involved in these activities. Though not a builder by nature, his sharp mind and keen eye for detail made him invaluable in overseeing the progress in construction and ensuring that nothing was overlooked. He often found himself running between sites, relaying messages, and coordinating the efforts of the different groups. The hobbit was becoming a familiar sight to all, his small figure darting through the bustling crowds, his presence a comforting constant amidst the upheaval.

One chilly morning, Bilbo stood atop a scaffold, looking out over the bustling scene below. He could see Thorin in the distance, directing a group of dwarves as they hauled a massive stone into place. The king’s regal bearing and commanding presence were unmistakable, even from afar. Despite the challenges, Thorin's determination never wavered, and his leadership was inspiring to all.

As Bilbo watched, he felt a surge of pride and happiness. The Lonely Mountain was slowly coming back to life, and he was a part of it. The thought warmed him against the biting wind. He knew there was still much to do, but with each passing day, the dream of a restored Erebor came closer to reality.

Below, in the bustling streets of Dale, Bard was equally busy. The townspeople respected him greatly for his leadership and bravery, and they followed his guidance as they worked to rebuild their homes. Bard’s efforts were focused not just on physical reconstruction but also on ensuring the people’s morale remained high. He often visited families, listened to their concerns, and offered words of encouragement.

Meanwhile, in the newly established farms, elves and women of Dale worked together, their hands deftly planting seeds and tending to the growing crops. The collaboration between elves and humans was a rare and beautiful sight, symbolizing the newfound alliances forged through shared hardship and respect.

Inside the mountain, Thorin’s company worked diligently. Balin, with his extensive knowledge of Erebor’s history and architecture, directed efforts to restore the grandeur of the palace halls. Dwalin, ever the warrior, took charge of reinforcing the defenses, ensuring that Erebor would be well-protected against any future threats. Fili and Kili, young and energetic, were always eager to lend a hand wherever needed, their enthusiasm infectious.

Bilbo’s frequent interactions with Thorin grew more meaningful each day. They shared brief, intense conversations about the progress and the future, their bond deepening with each encounter. The tension between them, a mix of unresolved feelings and mutual respect, simmered beneath the surface, adding an unspoken layer to their interactions.

One evening, as the sun set over the mountains, casting a golden glow over the land, Bilbo found himself standing beside Thorin at the top of the palace. They watched in silence as the workers below finished their tasks for the day, the sounds of hammers and saws gradually fading into the air.

“We’ve come a long way,” Thorin said quietly, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

Bilbo nodded, feeling the weight of the journey they had all undertaken. “And we still have a long way to go,” he replied with determination.

Thorin turned to look at him, a rare, soft smile playing on his lips. “With you by my side, Bilbo, I believe we can accomplish anything.” He embraced Bilbo from the side with his right arm, and the hobbit found it very pleasant to be in the dwarf's embrace.

Bilbo also felt a warmth spread through him at Thorin’s words. He smiled back, the bond between them growing ever stronger. Together, they would see Erebor restored to its former glory, and their relationship, forged in the flames of adversity, would be the foundation upon which their future was built.

Both men kept watching the sunset in comfortable silence. Having each other's reassuring company was the only thing they needed to feel safe and sound.

“Thorin?” Balin called from afar. Thorin and Bilbo turned around and faced the white-beard dwarf.

“Balin, is everything alright?” Thorin asked.

“Yes. There is someone waiting for you at the gates. He wishes to see you,” Balin answered.

“And who is this mysterious person you're talking about?” asked Thorin.

“Come see for yourself,” Balin teased. Thorin's expression changed to an inquisitive and serious one, but he still followed Balin. Bilbo was also really confused about who would be looking for Thorin right now. Could it be anyone dangerous?

When they got to the main entrance, both Bilbo and Thorin approached the gate carefully. A tall, lean figure was approaching them from the shadows.

“Greetings, old friends,” the figure greeted, got closer, and revealed himself.

It was Gandalf.

Thorin and Bilbo couldn't believe their faces. He left shortly after the Battle of The Five Armies and said he would return at some point, but didn't say when. The dwarf and the hobbit ran to Gandalf and hugged him. After such a treacherous battle, the old wizard was delighted to see both of them alive and safe.

“Gandalf!” Bilbo gasped, “I can't believe you're here!”

“I wouldn't miss the rebuilding of the great Kingdom Under the Mountain,” said Gandalf happily.

“It is a pleasure to have you here,” said Thorin, smiling.

“I am honored by your hospitality, Your Majesty,” Gandalf kneeled in front of the dwarf to show him the uttermost respect. Bilbo decided to copy Gandalf, not really sure of what he was doing. Thorin was left speechless and didn't know how to react at the moment.

“Well, thanks,” Thorin said awkwardly.

“Oh, Thorin, you haven't changed a bit,” Gandalf laughed, but the comment made Thorin feel very uneasy since Gandalf didn't know about the Dragon Sickness affected him. Thorin and Bilbo then decided to show Gandalf around the palace. He was amazed by how quickly it had been rebuilt in just a couple of weeks, and congratulated both men on the efforts they placed into rebuilding Erebor.

“There is still a lot to be done,” Bilbo told Gandalf, “We haven't even started on reconstructing the back of the palace!”

“Well, I think that without Bilbo's great attentiveness to detail, the palace would be a horrendous mess,” said Thorin, looking attentively at Bilbo. The hobbit got flustered and smiled sheepishly at the dwarf king. Gandalf noticed this and simply smiled to himself, sensing the bounded connection these two men have developed.

“Now, Bilbo, if you don’t mind, I need to have a little talk with your dwarf about a very important matter and to get updated about the last few weeks I have been gone,” Gandalf told Bilbo. The hobbit simply smiled at both men and left the hallway. Once he was out of sight, Gandalf began speaking.

“I can see that you two have become inseparable,” Gandalf said. Thorin slightly blushed and smiled. Thinking tenderly about his hobbit.

“Well, you can put it that way,” said Thorin, “Bilbo was been such a skilled burglar… and an amazing person. We’ve grown close.”

“Oh, it’s very obvious,” Gandalf teased, “It looks like my decision on bringing Bilbo along with the Company on the quest has been a very asserted one.”

“It was a good decision, Gandalf,” replied Thorin,”At first, I underestimated Bilbo’s courage and abilities, but he proved that he was braver and more skilled than anyone I’ve fought with. He saved my life multiple times, and I don’t know how to repay him for that; my gratitude is eternally endowed to him. I don’t want to leave his side, ever”

Gandalf smiled understandingly at Thorin, knowing what was going on. He knew the dwarf had intense feelings for the hobbit. In all the years Gandalf has known Thorin, he has never cared about someone the way he cared about Bilbo. He seemed to be extremely crucial for Thorin’s life, and was probably the only one keeping him together.

“You feel something deeper than a friendly feeling towards Bilbo, do you?” asked Gandalf, trying not to sound prude.

Thorin was silent for multiple seconds. The dwarf king has developed feelings for the dwarf since he saved his life from Azog when he encountered him after years, but he didn’t have the courage to acknowledge these feelings during the whole journey. He grew to care for Bilbo, even more than his own kin, and didn’t tell anyone a single word about those hidden emotions. The Mithril shirt he gave Bilbo was like a courting gift in his mind, but it seemed like Bilbo was a bit oblivious about it. Additionally, he was too scared to show his true intentions, until just a few weeks. Now, he had recently confessed his feelings to Bilbo, sort of, but nothing has been formalized between them.

“I do,” responded Thorin in a serious tone, not sure how Gandalf would react to that answer, “I do have feelings for Bilbo.” His heart was beating rapidly just thinking of the hazel-eyed hobbit. Thorin was picturing his face in his mind, with that beautiful smile and stunning eyes.

“That is wonderful!” responded Gandalf joyfully, “I am so glad you have found someone you care about like this, Thorin. Bilbo seems like a great companion, and I am sure he will make you ecstatic. Does he know about this?”

“Well, yeah… he reciprocates, and we talked about our feelings, but there is no formal arrangement between us yet,” replied Thorin, trying to hold his sheepish smile.

“Oh! Well, I suppose soon enough there will be an arrangement,” teased Gandalf.

Then, shifting the tone, Gandalf began talking about how he had found Thrain, Thorin’s father, in Dol Guldur. Thorin couldn’t believe that his father was alive after all these years. It seemed almost unreal, especially considering the conditions he had endured under the Necromancer's capture. But Gandalf then had to break the news that Thrain had been taken by the darkness and was dead, which shattered Thorin’s heart. Even if he and Thrain hadn’t been very close, he still wished he could go back in time to talk to his father again.

“I am so sorry, Thorin,” Gandalf whispered. “Thrain was taken completely by the wrath of the Ring of Power. He was driven into madness by its influence, and there was no way of saving him. He was already too damaged by the evils of the Necromancer.”

Thorin bowed his head, a heavy silence enveloping them. The pain of his father’s loss mingled with the new, fragile hope he had found with Bilbo, creating a complex web of emotions that left him feeling both bereft and determined. He took a deep breath, gathering his strength from the knowledge that, despite the sorrow, there was still something precious to hold onto in this tumultuous world.

“There is still hope in this world, Thorin Oakenshield,” said Gandalf, breaking the silence, “You are hope itself. With you as ruler of Erebor, the people of Middle Earth will slowly begin to trust again. Your victory at the Battle of the Five Armies is spreading like wild fire across the lands.”

Thorin simply nodded silently, feeling the intense pressure of his role as king heavy on his back. The dwarf always desired to rule Erebor someday, but actually facing that reality felt even more daunting and intimidating than ever.

“I know I have to do this, but I wonder how I will be able to rule over this kingdom if I do not even have hope in myself,” Thorin replied in a tone of surrender.

Gandalf looked at Thorin with a mixture of compassion and firmness. “Thorin, the strength of a king is not measured by the absence of doubt, but by his ability to rise above it. You have faced dragons and armies with courage. Now, you must face your own fears with the same resolve. Hope is not something you find, it is something you create. And it is clear to me, and to all who follow you, that you have the power to do so.”

The wizard smiled gently, seeing the realization dawning in Thorin's eyes. “Exactly, Thorin. You have always had the strength within you. It’s the same strength that led you to reclaim Erebor and to protect those you care about. Now, that strength must guide you as a ruler.”

Thorin’s mind lingered on that thought for a while. Gandalf did have a point about how hope is something that is created, yet the task felt so difficult to Thorin. He has faced thousands of foes in the last 24 years since Erebor’s capture and today, but how? He wasn’t so sure how he actually found the strength to do so, but he actually did. That courage in him was still inside him, stirring his body and his heart. Thorin soon enough realized that he was the one who created that wave of moving energy that gave him the courage to face any threats, and he could use it to face his fears and weave veins of hope.

He was the only one who could change his destiny.

He was the architect of his own destiny (1).

The battle was finally over, and now, it was time to face the real challenges ahead: to rule Erebor. It was finally time to do what he wished to since his use of reason, time to face what was soon to come once and for all.

Gandalf placed a reassuring hand on Thorin's shoulder. “Remember, Thorin, you are not alone. You have your kin, your friends, and allies by your side. Trust in them, as they trust in you. Together, you will rebuild this kingdom, and hope will flourish once more.”

Thorin looked into Gandalf's wise eyes and felt a renewed sense of determination. “Thank you, Gandalf.”

Gandalf nodded, his eyes twinkling with pride and affection. “Then go forth, Thorin Oakenshield, and lead your people into a brighter future. The road will be difficult, but I have no doubt that you will succeed.”

With those words, Thorin felt a surge of resolve. He turned to face the vast halls of Erebor, the kingdom he had fought so hard to reclaim. The challenges ahead were daunting, but with hope and drive, he knew he would lead his people to greatness.

***

Notes: 1. Amado Nervo, a Mexican poet, wrote "porque veo al final de mi rudo camino / que yo fui el arquitecto de mi propio destino," meaning "because I see at the end of my rough road / that I was the architect of my own destiny."

#bilbo baggins #the hobbit fanfiction #tauriel #thorin x bilbo #thorin oakenshield #thilbo #thilbo bagginshield #bagginshield #battle of the five armies #the hobbit movies #kili durin #kili x tauriel #the hobbit #lotr #gandalf

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neostriatum · 1 year

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Somewhere ages and ages hence

[AO3] [Dreamwidth TBA]

It was marriage season in Dale, the first in generations. What need did Thranduil have, to sit here instead of in his woods?

Laketown had been scarce in festivities, due mostly to its precarious building upon the lake and its capricious series of Masters that left the rest groveling upon what they could catch.

That was a chapter completed, though, much as Bard wished for it with the trappings nostalgia often carried. Dale was a complex beast, and its steady reconstruction had not only merited its own celebration, but also the headache that came with the formal re-establishing of ties between other kingdoms.

It was not a simple life, no, but it was an eventful one.

Thranduil sent him an amused look from where he was sitting, faint creasing of his lips that would hardly be discernible to any but an elf. He cocked an eyebrow in return, pressing his lips together firmly to dissuade anyone’s notion that he was anything other than dutiful and vaguely grim.

He had to hand it to the one neighboring king not in attendance – Thorin certainly had the right of it with such a countenance. It was easier to keep up than smiling at every turn.

Another toast went up from those assembled for his neighbor’s wedding, and he raised his tankard on muscle memory alone, wondering vaguely if the beer Dain had sent in a message of goodwill would get them as drunk as the formal reopening of the city. Bard watched Tauriel clank her drink with those sitting beside her, hoping it would at least be an amusing mess to preside over.

Rounds were made in which everyone was invited to speak. Given that the woman who had once been a fishmonger as he had been a bowman, it was certainly an event of elevated status now that she had been entitled a lady, particularly so since her remarriage was to one of the first travelling merchants that had accompanied a diplomatic envoy from Gondor. He was happy for her, truly, but it seemed the so-called “wedding season” was in the air, and Bard was internally groaning at how many children would be born by the end of the year.

It was enough to making him consider retiring to his room with a glass of wine and a good book. Still, he needed to be considered mannerly for a lord of Dale, and he dragged himself into mild carousing for the third wedding in a month.

Thranduil had found him among the festivities, himself having elected to stand to the side in a polite manner. Secretly, Bard thought he was just using the imperious, distant reputation of elves to get away with people-watching at leisure, and said as much when his tankard was refilled.

“It is good to see the people of Dale have much to celebrate,” The elf smoothly redirected, smiling at his frown. Smiles were something Thranduil was coming by more often these days, and Bard thought it was perhaps because so much death could only warrant so much grief.

Perhaps elves had the better end of the stick with their long lives. He shrugged, eyeing the beer dubiously and wondering when the polite cut-off point was. Given that the elf king himself had refilled it, he was willing to wager this wasn’t it. Taking a sip, he sighed at how perfectly smooth and malty it was; good for mending one’s goodwill, no doubt.

“Is this why you’re here for yet another wedding?” Bard asked wryly, mimicking a toast to the man. He was obliged with a tilt of the head, provoking a grin out of him.

“No,” Thranduil said simply, setting the pitcher down with an ease that belied the strength his willowy form held, sliding into a chair next to him amidst the faint gaping Bard was sure he was doing, “Though I admit it is pleasant to see so much joy after the battle, and that there is so much one can find to celebrate.”

“That… there is that, yes,” The beer was looking more tempting, although he was sure being deep in his cups wouldn’t make this situation make any more sense, “I’m remembering what Master Baggins said once, that he was always presiding over the weddings in his home town. He seemed glad to have escaped it.”

A laugh, low and threading easily through the noise of the musicians and dancers closer to the center of action. It made his skin prickle, wondering how the sound paired so well with the first stars beginning to sparkle on the dusky horizon. He looked away, lest his gaze be caught, and found his attention pinned to the incongruous paleness of the king’s hands upon the wood of the table.

Thranduil was dressed more casually for the event, if one considered less layers of robes than usual a degree of casual- and he was stopping those thoughts right there before they could wander off. Another sip of beer settled finely on his tongue, and he was beginning to wonder if he would surpass his limit by the end of this conversation.

Maybe there was something to be read into his flushed cheeks, but the elf settled more easily into his own chair. Lounging, almost, and those thoughts were quickly shuffled away, too. There was no gaping tunic to politely ignore the depths of , but the shimmer of cleverly-woven silk played well with the almost-invisible blondness of Thranduil’s hair.

“I do believe he traded one quirk of society for another,” Thranduil mused, looking out at the revelers with a fond gaze, “There will be multiple caravans converging on the mountain in the next two years, and the toils of immigration are usually followed by at least a few weddings.”

“Was it the same for you?” He asked, trying to pull up the wisps of memory he had learned about the elves of Mirkwood. They were a mix of people, that he knew, but little else beyond that the king of the wood was an outsider.

T ilting a brow at him, Thranduil looked both amused and curious at his question, then leaned abruptly forward to grab the tankard from his startled grasp. An apology at the tip of his tongue, he could only watch as the elf smirked and took a hearty swallow of the beer, Bard’s face most assuredly red at the sight and its accompanying thoughts.

“We were not necessarily well-liked when we ventured into the woods, no,” Thranduil admitted, licking his lips of foam, “I suppose venturing in to another’s home after your own battle was inspiring of trepidation.”

B ard nodded, finding it easier to focus on the subject rather than the sight out of sheer curiosity, “One would think you well-acclimated. You command their loyalty well.”

“Hmm,” Thranduil cut a glance at him, “I suppose marrying one of them was good cause to unify ourselves.”

A thought niggled at him, and he voiced it before he could think better of it, “I thought elves weren’t ones for arranged marriages.”

“We do not,” Thranduil confirmed, a faraway look in his eye that wasn’t quite grief, but the shadow of it, one as tall as the trees of the king’s wood, “Mirimelle rather sought me out, despite the behest of her family. She told me once it was curiosity that overruled her senses.”

H e watched the man take another sip of his purloined beer, the ethereal grace somehow scarcely touched by such a mundane action. Perhaps it was the setting sun that gave him confidence, or the reflected glow of the moon on Thranduil’s skin, but he couldn’t help but murmur, “I can see why she did so.”

Another lifted brow in his direction, and what did it say that Bard found the expression captivating? “Can you?” Thranduil asked, face open in receptive curiosity, “My wife often had a way with words, but danced away from my questions when it pleased her.”

And here Bard thought of his own wife, wondering if in another life the two would have met. Certainly the kind pragmatism would have been well-met by such an illustrious spirit, if Thranduil still loved his own strongly enough to follow on war’s footsteps for a token of her memory. It made him smile, wondering if they both thought their husbands fools from wherever they were resting. Perhaps that is why the man sitting beside him with an astonishingly-slouched posture in the rickety chair glowed in the oncoming starlight.

He shook his head, “ I think perhaps it was love that drew her toward you, to see if your heart spoke the same as hers .”

T hranduil stared at him, not quite a smile lingering on his face, but he didn’t dare interpret it as a measure of awe in his direction. He was loathe to let the moment break, meeting the look with one of his own, not sure how many of his emotions were on his face to be read as clearly as a story.

“I think…” The elf murmured, leaning toward him, “That perhaps you are right. You are a font of unexpected wisdom, Bard, and one that is appreciated.”

Abruptly, it occurred to Bard to wonder how long this Mirimelle had been dead – how long Thranduil had been carrying that grief with him, allowing it to fester and attract darkness upon his thoughts. He covered the man’s resting hand upon his own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

That Thranduil seemed as entranced by the sight of their fingers twining over the handle of the tankard did not escape him, but rather made his heart flutter in a way it had done little since the passing of his own wife.

“It would do them a disservice,” He murmured, leaning in as Thranduil had done, “To lose ourselves in grief, and forget what can draw a smile toward us.”

Thranduil’s eyes shone in the approaching moonlight, creased as they were with some warm, unknown emotion, “I agree.”

Author's Notes

For barduil month, hosted by @bi-widower-dads. This prompt fill is "marriage".

The title is taken from Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken".

Thranduil's wife's name picked mostly out of a hat (this one, to be precise). It's a mix of, if I'm interpreting correctly, "mirima" which means "free", and the feminine suffix "-elle", which composes thereabouts to "she who is free". I'm not actually sure if Tolkien's stated anything on that particular subject, but regardless, here she is a native to the Greenwood and probably bewildered Thranduil just a smidge. I'm sure Bard would likely agree with the sentiment of ruffling Thranduil's... well, feathers, a bit.

#barduil #my stories

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goingsparebutwithprecision · 2 years

Text

Elders and Betters

Bilbo meets a dragon.

“Oh,” said Bilbo, faintly.

He looked up at the dragon. The dragon looked down at him. It was larger than the largest building in the Shire, larger than the hall of the Elvenking; if it had wanted to destroy Laketown all it would have had to do was sit down. The last of the gold that had concealed it cascaded off its scales and rang in beautiful harmony as it hit the rest - goodness, that really was a lot of gold, wasn’t it?

“Oh,” he said, again. “But. You’re only a baby.”

The baby reared back, affronted, and Bilbo took in the treasure hall properly for the first time.

It was. Such a lot of gold. And the hall was quite lovely, too, Thorin hadn’t been exaggerating. Bilbo could see that, now.

“You dare-” the infant began, and Bilbo wrenched his attention back to it. Priorities, Baggins, he scolded himself.

“I do, I do indeed,” said he, fixing the baby with his fiercest business look. “The way those dwarves were carrying on, you’d think you were Ancalagon the Black come again.”

“I - I am Smaug,” the infant said, as though Bilbo didn’t already know. Its agitation caused three showers of silver and a rain of jewelled fish. It was mesmerising, it truly was.

“Desolator of Dale! Destroyer of Dwarves! The Lord of the Lonely Mountain!”

“Yes, yes,” Bilbo said, flapping an impatient hand. “It’s all very impressive, I’m sure. Whatever can Gandalf have been thinking?” he muttered to himself. “The dwarves, I can understand; never make a fuss when a bother would do, but a wizard really ought to know better - “

“I am SMAUG,” the baby howled, rattling the pillars and shaking loose jewels from its encrusted hide. “Last of the great wyrms of the North!”

That got Bilbo’s attention. “Oh,” he said, again, “oh dearie me. No.”

“What do you mean, no-”

“Goodness,” Bilbo said to himself, “is that mithril? And sapphires, how lovely.” He patted his pockets, looking for his pipe. “Now where did I put the -” oh, he’d lent his matches to, to Bofur, wasn’t it? Or maybe Balin? His memory wasn’t what it was. He stared at his pipe for a moment until the pipeweed smoldered and caught. He took a deep puff, satisfied, and it was at this point that the dragon attempted to eat him.

“No,” said Bilbo, in a voice he hadn’t had to use since the last time he caught Lobelia reaching for the teaspoons; it was a whole choir of voices, the song of avalanches, command over majesty over power. The mountain quaked to the root. Outside, the last of the birds took flight.

Smaug froze.

“Well, really,” Bilbo said, aggravated beyond belief. He huffed angrily at his pipe for a few moments, the drifting smoke a sudden, sullen red. “What manners! No better than a Sackville-Baggins.”

The baby didn’t answer. Its eyes twitched above its still open jaw.

“No respect,” said Bilbo. “None at all.”

He tucked his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets, the better to pace in a lecturing style.

"As I was saying,” he began again, while above him the dragon moved not a muscle, not a scale. “I really had only intended to have a little look around. Get the lay of the land, so to speak. Maybe pick up that little white gem they all seem so het up about, what do they call it? The Arkenstone? Such a lot of fuss over one shiny rock, honestly. You'd think it were a silmaril, the way they carry on. I don't like to cause trouble," Bilbo said, turning back to the infant and treating it to his sternest glare. “But trying to eat me. Me! I ask you.”

His eyes were yellow. The pupils slitted.

“Anyone would think you were raised by wolves,” said Bilbo, around slowly elongating teeth. “It simply won’t do. I won’t have it.”

He could feel the shadow of his wings stretching up the wall. Up, and up, and up.

“And besides,” he said, in a voice quite unlike his usual polite, hobbit-hole voice, “I haven’t had a meal worthy of the name in an age.”

* * * * *

The dwarves were all gathered round in anxious attention when Bilbo came back up out of the mountain. He tossed the Arkenstone to Thorin, who fumbled it in his shock and nearly dropped it.

"Well, there you have it, gentlemen," he said, and sat down on the thrush rock, the better to balance ankle on opposing knee and have a pipe.

He fished it out of his pocket and was patting down his jacket for the little pouch of longbottom leaf he'd been saving for just such an occasion, when he felt the gaze of thirteen sets of stunned dwarvish eyes.

"Problem?" he asked, looking up.

"What about the treasure?" said Fili.

"What about the dragon?" said Kili.

"Oh, that," Bilbo said, turning his attention back to his pipe. When it was set just the way he liked it, he looked around for a light and Bofur struck a match for him on the side of the mountain. His eyes were wide as saucers. It didn’t suit him, but Bilbo was hardly going to say so. He wasn’t a savage.

"Yes," Balin said, spluttering, "that!"

"No dragon," Bilbo said, succinctly. "I checked quite thoroughly."

"No... no dragon?" Balin said. Thorin ignored all of this, staring at the Arkenstone as though it contained the wisdom of Durin and the secret of mithril and the light of the Two Trees all in one, which Bilbo tried to find amusing and not at all worrisome. He was quite full, thank you, and he’d never been fond of indigestion.

"Indeed, no dragon," Bilbo said, rather than think about that. "Must have got bored, or something. Wandered off. Can't imagine why, it's a lovely place."

This provoked a flurry of noise as the dwarves competed to be incredulous about the first and smug about the second to the greatest volume and length.

"In fact," Bilbo said, drawing in a breath and letting it out in a puff of smoke that twisted, fanged and reptilian, before dissolving into the dusk, "I rather think I'll stay."

#goingspare writes #the hobbit #middle earth #lotr #i know nothing about tolkien dragons that isn't in the hobbit don't @ me #unrelatedly i can't decide if Gandalf knows Bilbo's a dragon in this #i think it's funnier if he doesn't but Bilbo assumes he does #anyway #enjoy!

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shy-blue-blossom · 1 year

Text

The Unseen Princess

Chapter Three: Secrets come to Light

Chapter 2

Normal PoV

As Laketown was getting burnt down to the ground Tauriel was getting the girls out of Laketown while Kili and the others were making their way to the mountain. As they were trying to get out of Laketown and Bain remembered that his father had hidden the black arrow in a boot next to a statute, but they didn't know where y/n had gone. Bard and Bain had finally taken the dragon Smaug down. When everyone was on the shores the girls were looking for them. As they were looking for them, Alfred was making trouble with one of the ladies.

"Alfred I wouldn't do that if I was you." Bard's voice told him as he grabbed his arm that was about to strike the lady.

Tilda and Sigrid couldn't wait to go to him and give him a hug. The Laketown people then began to argue, what they didn't see was the elf that was upon a gorgeous, pure white horse.

"What going on here?" Her question made everyone stop what they were doing to see her now standing next to her horse.

"Y/N!!!" Tilda shouted as she ran to her and hugged her.

Y/n hugged her back as she looked up to see Sigrid smiling at her, and she got a smile in return.

"Bard you might want to get everyone to shelter before dark." She told him and that's what he did, he took them all to Dale.

When they got to Dale they all found places to sleep while Alfred took night watch. When Bard asked if anything happen, he said nothing could get past me, yet an army of elves did. They had brought supplies for the. Bard had talked to the Mirkwood king, Thranduil. Bard had tried talking to Thorin, but he did not listen. So Thranduil thinks it's wise to attack during the day, first thing. While they were talking they didn't notice y/n was standing there watching them. As she was about to say something a man with a pointy hat and a stick was standing by the entrance of the tent.

"What is going on here?" The old man asked them.

"GANDALF!!" Y/n happily called out his name as she ran up to him and hugged him and while doing so her hood to the cloak she was wearing fell off her head, Thranduil couldn't believe his eyes.

"You can't be from them." Thranduil let out a whisper not believing his eyes.

Y/n froze along with Gandalf but she soon let go of Gandalf and turned to look at Thranduil. When he saw her crown his eyes widened in surprise. Before he could say anything a hobbit appeared by the tents entrance.

"Bilbo you're alright," Y/n said with a sigh of relief as she ran up to him and bent down to his height.

He looked at her strangely not knowing who it was but he soon realised. He then gave the Arkenstone to Thranduil and Bard who knew what to do with it and hopefully not go to war, but they didn't know what the orcs were up to. As they were talking they didn't notice y/n disappear from the tent. Soon the night was over and they were going to confront Thrion again to see if he is willing to trade or will they go to war. Thrion chose war with the help of his cousin Daín.

The time came when they talked to Thrion but he would not listen and soon his cousin Dain of the Iron Hills came to help fight in the war, but as they were about to fight, Orcs began to come and attacked. As everyone was fighting no one noticed the extra elves that were there helping to keep Dale safe. As Thrion, his nephews and Dwalin were on top of Ravenhill fighting Azog and Bolg, but they didn't realise that y/n was helping them as the war ended they still didn't notice her.

When the war was over Myriil came and got her and took her back home. When they got there she was taken to the healers to get a checkup since she had fainted in his arms. While the healers were looking after the unconscious Princess Myriil went to tell the king and prince that she has returned. Once they knew she was home they raced to the healers to see her sleeping on the bed. They sat by her bed waiting for her to wake up and when the healers talked to the king, they told him she fainted from using too many spells and energy. They didn't leave her bedside unless it was for food or an emergency to do with the realm. There was a knock at the door when they were talking about the realm.

"Come in." The king Acluce called out as he stood up with Eltaor next to him.

In came Myrill with another elf that had brown shoulder length hair, and with him was another elf with blonde hair.

"How can I help you?" Acluce asked them.

"We were wondering if you know an elf with middle thigh length h/c hair and e/c because we would like to thank her." The blonde hair elf asked him.

"And what do you want to thank my daughter for?" He asked them again.

Before anyone could answer the was a moan of pain from behind Acluce and Eltaor. They turned around to see y/n up but holding her head as she was in pain. Both Acluce and Eltaor went up to her and asked what hurts and all she could do was hold her head as she wined. The brown-haired elf moved to her and healed her and she fell forward into her hanar arms with an exhausted sigh as she looked at the elf that helped her.

"Thank you...for helping me." She tanked him slightly exhausted before sitting up straight with help from her hanar.

"It is my honour to have helped you, princess. I am Elrond, Lord of Rivendell." He introduced himself as he bowed to her. "And this is Thranduil king of the woodland realm." He introduced him to them as he bowed his head to her as well.

They then left the room with her father to talk. Her hanar stayed and helped her to stand back on her feet to get the strength back into her legs. It's been a while since then and y/n has been visiting Bilbo and his nephew Frodo and it was soon to be Bilbo's 111th birthday which she can't go to since her home has been found by the Orcs again. She has sent a letter to Bilbo explaining her reasons for not being there. There is also the reason with the dark is getting closer to her home and that is not good.

When she heard the flute she gave Gandalf be played she began to make her way to Rivendell and while she was making her way, Frodo had been stabbed by a morgue blade and was being healed by Lord Elrond. As Boromir was talking about the ring and was about to grab it and before Gandalf could say anything another voice spoke and was speaking a forbidden spell from her people.

"Do not touch something you don't know the power of." The person said as she walked in and looked like she was about to fall over, but before she could Elrond and Aragorn were next to her and holding her up.

"You made her utter forbidden words, do you know how that will make her feel," Gandalf spoke as he stood looking at Boromir.

"I'm sorry but I do not know who she is," Boromir said as he pointed to y/n who is now sitting down in the seat Aragorn was sitting in.

"This is y/n Cormyth, princess of the Ornarta Casmasto realm, the realm of the sun and moonlight elves." Elrond introduced her to everyone and she had finally pulled her clock off revealing her crown.

Once everyone saw her crown it went dead silent. Soon everyone was throwing questions around but not about the ring but about her.

"If you want to know why I am here then you need to find out what you are going to do about that ring if not there will no more be a realm of the sun and moonlight elves. I would like it if we could talk about what all the races are going to do about the ring. Isn't that right Frodo?" She asked and explained as she smiled at them, then to Frodo.

They then talked about the ring as if they completely forgot about it for a while. As the others were arguing with each other, y/n was watching Frodo to see what he was going to do. He soon did volatile to be the ring bearer and Gandalf was to be his guild since he did not know the way. Aragorn gave him his sword to help, Legolas came forward and gave him his bow, Gimli with his axe and Boromir also gave him his help.

"I see you are almost complete." Y/n spoke up.

But before anyone could say anything three little hobbits stood next to Frodo. Elrond looked at her and she stood up and stood in front of Frodo, then kneed to his height with a smile on her face.

"Just like your Uncle Bilbo who helped to reclaim the lonely mountain and I stayed by his side, you have my people's trust, but most of all you have my power as the sun and moonlight elves princess," Y/n said as she never took the smile off her face.

Frodo couldn't help the smile that made its way onto his face and he jumped into her arms. He kept whispering thank you's into her ear as she hugged him back. Y/n pulled back and kissed his forehead before starting to her full height and turning to Elrond.

"Now the fellowship of the ring is complete," Elrond told them. "Now get ready for your journey ahead because it's going to be long and hard with your new friends." He finished as he looked at all of them, as y/n had stood next to Aragorn and Gandalf.

Chapter 4.

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

The Unseen Princess

Masterlist

#x reader #reader #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #lotr #legolas x reader #legolas #legolas greenleaf #legolas greenleaf x reader #the unseen princess

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soralinklokidottirofmirkwood · 2 years

Text

The hobbit x neko heterochromic teen reader part 10

Dale and the race of men.

You go to Dale with the Mirkwood elves to help the people of Laketown. (Above is your armor.)

You are awaken to the sound of a racket outside your bedroom followed by your adoptive Father bursting in wearing armor "Y/N armor up! we are heading to Dale." He said as Anna came in with clothing that wasn't from your wardrobe. You quickly bathed, Anna put the clothes on you with Thranduil helping you with the little armor (Image above but change the cape to the white cloak.) then Anna did your hair and put a circlet that looked liked the one Thranduil's wearing on your head.

After getting dressed you were escorted to the stables were Thranduil and an army of elves are waiting with a wagon of previsions.

You walked up to Thranduil who is astride his giant elk that looked at you with its Beady charcoal eyes.

One of your bodyguards helped you up with Thranduil picking you up from your underarms and sitting you in front of him on the majestic beast "Hello little one." A deep mellow voice said making you look to the elk in wonder but Thranduil looked like he was going to have a heart attack "Hello." You said to the majestic bull "My elk is talking." Thranduil said in amazement "Yes I am." The bull told his rider "So this is one of your new powers?" He asked giving orders to the army to move out.

After hours of riding you and the elves of Mirkwood arrived to Dale. You and Thranduil rode to a human man with shoulder length hair and some stubble on his face. They began talking but you could only stare at Erebor in awe as you are so close to it 'It's even more amazing up close.' You think to yourself "I thought Neko's went extinct fifteen years ago." The man said looking at you in surprise "she's proven use all wrong." Thranduil said glancing down at you.

Later on after yours and Thranduil's tents are set up You ended up meeting Bard's children. His son and older daughter are your age a bit older then you while the youngest was about 10 years old. You found the son Bain quite handsome and found yourself very fond of him and his sisters Sigrid and Tilda whom you got along very well with.

You and Bain are walking around with you healing the wounded with your healing powers which Bard was really thankful for "Thank you so much Lady Y/N." He said "your welcome Lord Bard but please just call me Y/N." You said to the human who smiled "Only if you call me Bard." He said happily upon seeing his people happy that their was help until a familiar voice was heard and Bard walked out to investigate.

Your POV:

After I finished healing the wounded Bain and I went our separate ways for the day, I made my way to Dad's tent but stopped upon hearing the familiar voice again.

Raising my eyebrow I looked in to see "Gandalf!" I said running over to the Wizard and hugging him since I haven't seen him after we left Beorn's house "Y/N L/N? By my beard It's been awhile my dear," He said hugging me back while Dad rolled his eyes "Of course she knows Mithrandir." He said to Bard “It’s now Y/N Greenleaf.” I said to the grey wizard.

Bard looked surprised "So she also knows the dwarves?" He asked making me nod "I've been with the company for three months after orcs destroyed my village, then when we went to Mirkwood Dad and I made a deal I stay in Mirkwood he lets the dwarves go before Durin's day. After he adopted me I've been living in Mirkwood since." I said to Bard while Gandalf had a look that screamed *what happened while I was gone?* but it turned serious as he spoke of the fact that the dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor while Bard, Dad, and I followed him to the edge of the tower mines and Dad's tents are on as he says that there is an army of orcs and that they could destroy all of the lands. I nearly choked when he said the name of my homeland and I couldn't help but look at Dad "I thought you said K/N was destroyed." I said in sindarin making Gandalf turn to Dad "Thranduil? Please tell me you didn't tell her!?" Gandalf asked making Dad have a look of terror and he swore in Sindarin. All of them unaware of a group of orcs listening from a distance.

Somewhere else no one's POV:

A man with sickly grey skin, a few strands of Dirty brown hair, one Green eye and one Amber eye, he also had cat ears and a tail. He sat on a throne of silver with violet silks with a few orcs surrounding him with Azog the defiler himself standing in front of him talking in black speech "Yes Azog once we find my sister she will be your bride weather she likes it or not." The twisted neko said looking at the pale Orc until four orcs entered the room "Master Arrow! Master Azog we found the girl." A small and skinny Orc said with a twisted smile showing his sharp rotten teeth making the neko and pale Orc give twisted smiles of their own showing sharp and crooked yellow teeth "I'm coming for you my bride." The pale Orc said in English.

#thranduil #bard #mirkwood elves #platonic #neko reader #the hobbit #heterochromia #the company of thorin oakenshield #fanfic

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bisexualbumblebee-writes · 2 years

Text

Returning Home Chapter 13- Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Thorin Oakenshield x Bellarose Baggins

Description: After arriving in Laketown under some rather unsavory conditions, it's up to the Company to find weapons suited for their mission when Bard's weapons don't hold up. That leads to trouble when Kili unfortunately ruins the plan.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: GUYS!!! This is officially my 500th fanfic!!! I cannot believe I've reached such a big milestone but I am so proud of myself!

The barge docked soon after. Before Bellarose knew it there were no more fish covering her and Thorin. Bard helped her out of the barrel with Thorin lifting her. She stood there watching as the rest of the Company struggled to climb out of their own barrels. She felt disgusting, and it took all she had not to full body cringe at the slimy feeling she had on the upper half of her body. Bard walked up to the dock keeper, who stared at the Company in shock, and handed him a coin.

“You didn’t see them, they were never here. The fish you can have for nothing.” With that, he led the Company away. After only a few minutes of walking a boy no older than sixteen approached them worriedly.

“Da! Our house, it’s being watched,” he informed Bard urgently. The Man looked around for a moment in thought, seemingly forming a plan in his mind.

The Company was told to go around to the lower floors of a nearby house and enter through the toilet, which was open to the water below the entire town. The Company waited there patiently (we’ll, that may have been a bit of a stretch for the Dwarves, but still) for a few minutes before they heard a knock on the wall above them three times. They (unfortunately) had to go through the toilet so they wouldn’t be seen, which meant they had to dive into the water and swim up. Dwalin was the first to do it, signaling when the next person could go.

When it was Bellarose’s turn it took all she had not to seize up the second the freezing water touched her skin. She forced herself to move and swam up to the hole, popping her head out. The boy who she’d come to know as Bain held out his hand and helped her up.

“And there’s a Hobbit!” A girl no older than eleven exclaimed to another girl who seemed to be around Bain’s age. These must’ve been Bard’s other children. Once everyone was inside they were given blankets to warm up with. Bard’s youngest daughter Tilda was kind enough to provide Bellarose with a new shirt as hers was too wet and smelled too much of fish for her liking.

“Thank you dear,” she muttered with a grateful smile as Tilda wrapped a blanket around her. The young girl offered her a small smile before moving on to help her sister pass out other blankets to the boys.

“A Dwarvish Wind-Lance,” she heard Thorin mutter in shock, making her face him. He was looking out of the window, almost in an awed trance.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she joked half heartedly.

“He has,” Balin responded for Thorin. “The last time we saw such a weapon, a city was on fire. It was the day the dragon came.” He gestured out of the window. Bellarose stood, her curiosity piqued, and looked out. Atop a tower not too far away was a giant crossbow looking weapon, only this had four arms. She pursed her lips, impressed by the build of the weapon, then looked at Thorin when he looked away sadly.

“The day that Smaug destroyed Dale, Girion, the Lord of the city, rallied his bowman to fire upon the beast,” the older Dwarf continued. “But a dragon’s hide is tough, tougher than the strongest armor. Only a black arrow, fired from a wind-lance, could have pierced the dragon’s hide, and few of those arrows were ever made. His store was running low when Girion made his last stand.”

“Had the aim of Men been true that day, much would have been different,” Thorin concluded, slightly ruefully.

“You speak as if you were there,” Bard mentioned as he approached them. Thorin stared at him for a moment, quickly figuring out how to answer.

“All Dwarves know the tale.”

“Then you would know that Girion hit the dragon,” Bain retorted as he walked up behind his father. “He loosened a scale under the left wing. One more shot and he would have killed the beast.” Dwalin laughed rather loudly at that - in fact it was more of a guffaw that nearly made Bellarose jump out of her skin.

“That’s a fairy story, lad. Nothing more.”

“You took our money,” Thorin changed the subject. “Where are the weapons?”

“Wait here,” the Man responded before walking out.

“Bella, come sit by the fire. You’re shivering,” Bilbo instructed, moving her to sit in a chair beside the fireplace.

She sat there in silence with the others while Thorin, Balin, Fili and Kili whispered to each other off to the side. Part of her wished to know what they were talking about that they didn’t want the Company to know, but every time she moved Bilbo would shoot her a reprimanding look that forced her to sit back down. She rolled her eyes at the way he flocked after her like a mother hen, especially after everything they’d dealt with thus far.

However, she didn’t have time to say anything before the door opened again and in walked Bard. He was carrying a long, wet and wrapped package that he ultimately set on the table. The Company gathered around as he loosened the wrappings, revealing a few different weapons - obviously hand made. The Dwarves stared on in shock, then a couple of them picked them up and examined them, disgust written all over their expressions.

“What is this?” Thorin questioned, holding up one of them.

“Pike-hook,” answered Bard. “Made from an old harpoon.”

“And this?”

“A crowbill, we call it, fashioned from a smithy’s hammer. It’s heavy in hand, I grant, but in defense of your life, these will serve you better than none.”

“We paid for weapons,” Gloin complained. “Iron-forged swords and axes!”

“It’s a joke!” Bofur agreed, throwing the weapon he held on the table. The other Dwarves followed in suit while Bard shook his head.

“You won’t find better outside the city armory. All iron-forged weapons are held there under lock and key.” Bellarose noticed Thorin and Dwalin glance at each other. There was a mischievous glint in their eyes that made her nervous.

“Thorin,” she called softly, catching his attention. Out of the corner of her eye a sense of familiarity appeared on Bard’s face, but she chose to ignore it and focus on the task at hand. She stood up, wrapping her blanket closer to her, before walking over to the Dwarf.

“Why not take what’s been offered and go?” She asked hesitantly, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“The lass is right,” Balin agreed, walking up beside the Hobbit. “I’ve made do with less; so have you. I say we leave now.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Bard suddenly said, making everyone look at him in shock and extreme anger.

“What did you say?” Dwalin all but yelled.

“There’s spies watching this house and probably every dock and wharf in the town. You must wait till nightfall,” he explained, which made the Dwarves calm down. He then went outside to clear his head or think of a plan - Bellarose couldn’t quite tell. She understood his reasoning for either option.

Part of her felt bad that they’d all but taken over his house with their sheer number (even if they were smaller than Men). So, she began attempting to clean up around the house - even if it was rather difficult with so many people around. She’d been in the middle of folding the blanket she’d been using when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Bellarose, come on. We’re leaving,” Thorin said, making her look at him.

“Bard said we couldn’t leave,” she reminded him confusedly. “There are spies watching the house.”

“Until night,” he responded simply. “And the sun is nearly behind the horizon.” He pointed to the window, and she turned to see that it was in fact practically dark now. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but nodded at him.

“Very well. Let’s go.” With that she walked to the front door and chanced a peek out the door. The watchmen were gone, which gave them free reign to go.

The Company snuck around Laketown, attempting to locate something (Bellarose didn’t actually know what they were searching for to be honest). Thorin pulled the girl behind a boat as two watchmen walked by, then once the coast was clear they continued moving.

“Shh! Keep it down,” Dwalin whisper yelled.

“As soon as we have the weapons, we make straight for the mountain,” Thorin spoke as they stopped outside a building. It was the armory.

“Weapons?” Bellarose repeated confusedly, stopping mid step. “Bard provided us with weapons already.”

“Those ‘weapons’ were a joke,” the Dwarf scoffed. “If there is still a dragon in Erebor we will need more than old harpoons and smithy hammer.” His words did nothing to help her feel better, and she found herself taking a step back.

The Dwarf didn’t notice however as he turned away from her. He pointed to Nori, who got a running start and ran up to the pyramid that several of the Dwarves had formed. He jumped up each Dwarf tier until he finally reached the second floor window of the armory and slipped inside.

“Next,” Thorin instructed quietly, pointing at Bilbo. The Hobbit followed Noir’s footsteps before slipping into the window behind him. Once he was gone the Dwarf faced Bellarose.

“Next,” he whispered, gently pressing a hand to the small of her back to urge her forward. The girl hesitated, but ultimately sighed.

“I’m so glad I’m wearing pants,” she muttered before getting a running start. She copied her brother and Nori’s movements to slip into the window. She sighed softly as she moved to the side. Kili, Fili, Thorin and a few others entered the armory and began collecting the weapons stored there. Bellarose handed an axe to Kili, who was taking them downstairs for the others to grab. She paused when she heard Thorin speak.

“You alright?” Upon looking over she realized Kili seemed to be struggling over the pile of weapons in his arms. He looked like he was just barely managing to stay standing.

“I can manage. Let’s just get out of here,” the young Durin brushed off. Thorin stared at him for a moment, then laid another sword on Kili’s weapon pile. Kili began walking downstairs, but then cried out in pain. Everyone whipped around then froze in place when he fell, the weapons making an awful and loud clanging noise when they fell out of his hands. Bellarose covered her mouth to stop herself from squeaking in surprise, then her eyes met Thorin’s when she heard the watchmen cry out before running towards the armory.

“Run!” She heard Dori cry out. Before she could even process it a small group of guards were standing in front of them, pointing pikes directly at them. Bellarose gasped when the tip of the pike pointed at her pressed against her throat, and she found herself looking at Thorin.

He merely offered her an apologetic look before all of them were forced out of the armory. The Company was dragged to a large mansion with what appeared to be the entirety of Laketown following. There was a lot of yelling from everyone as they stopped just before the stairs of said mansion. Bilbo pulled his sister close to him as the doors to the mansion were opened by a guard. Out walked a big Man with a rather angry expression while he slipped on his coat.

“What is the meaning of this?” The Man questioned.

“We caught ‘em stealing weapons, sire,” the captain of the guard explained, making the Man’s eyes raise in surprise.

“Ah. Enemies of the state, then.”

“This is a bunch of mercenaries if ever there was, sire,” Alfrid (who Bellarose only recognized by his voice because of the toll gate incident) added.

“Hold your tongue,” Dwalin snapped. “You do not know to whom you speak. This is no common criminal; this is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!” He gestured to the Dwarf in question, who stepped forward. Behind her, Bellarose could hear the townsfolk murmur to each other in amazement.

“We are the Dwarves of Erebor,” Thorin announced, earning whispers of shock and amazement. “We have come to reclaim our homeland. I remember this town and the great days of old. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, filled with silks and fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake! This was the center of all trade in the North. I would see those days return. I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!” The people around them cheered and clapped excitedly. It was almost immediately cut off when Bard’s voice suddenly called out over the crowd.

“Death!” He exclaimed, striding forward. “That is what you will bring upon us. Dragon fire and ruin. If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all.” That caused the crowd to whisper amongst themselves anxiously, but Thorin countered quickly, speaking to them rather than to Bard.

“You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this: if we succeed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!” Once again that earned him cheering.

“All of you! Listen to me!” Bard exclaimed desperately. “You must listen! Have you forgotten what happened to Dale? Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm? And for what purpose? The blind ambition of a mountain King so riven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!” He and Thorin stared at each other angrily as the townsfolk began to rally around Bard, but all attention turned to the Master of the town when he spoke.

“Now, now, we must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let us not forget that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!” He pointed at Bard accusingly, causing everyone to clamor. Bellarose merely stared at the Man in shock as he looked away.

“It’s true, sire,” Alfrif agreed. “We all know the story: arrow after arrow he shot, each one missing its mark.” The crowd yelled angrily at Bard, who looked around before striding forward to speak directly to Thorin.

“You have no right,” he muttered earnestly. “No right to enter that mountain!” Thorin glowered at him before responding in a low voice.

“I have the only right.”

“Thorin,” Bellarose said, though she couldn’t tell if it was in shock over what he said or reprimanding him for the way he said it. Either way he didn’t listen, and instead turned to face the Master.

“I speak to the Master of the men of the Lake. Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?” He asked, earning stares of anticipation from the crowd in the Master’s direction. “What say you?” The Master was silent for a few seconds in thought, then he smiled and pointed his finger at Thorin.

“I say unto you...welcome! Welcome and thrice welcome, King under the Mountain!” He exclaimed, opening his arms welcomingly. The crowd erupted in cheers as Thorin climbed up a few steps leading up to the mansion before turning to face the townsfolk. He and Bard stared at each other silently.

Bellarose looked between the two, feeling a sort of sinking feeling settling in her stomach. She hadn’t anticipated any of this happening, and she had no idea whether what they were doing was a good thing anymore. Her eyes landed on Thorin when Bard finally turned and left, and that same mischievous glint in his eyes from earlier returned, which did not help her. Now, all she could do was hope and pray that they were still on the right path.

Tag(s): @atomicsoulcollecto

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #thorin oakenshield #thorin imagine #thorin x oc

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everardentarchived · 2 years

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tag dump two !!

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lotrthobbit · 3 years

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The Line of Durin

Fili x Human!Reader

Warning: contains Sexual Content, Minors DNI !!! 18+ only

Contains: Breeding, size Kink, DOM Fili, Fingering, Female and Male receiving

For the sake of this story, Only Thorin and Kili died in the Battle of Five Armies, Fili has become King Under the Mountain and you both met in Lake Town and now are married for 2 years.

Pronouns: Any ( I will be using the female anatomy bc that is what I am familiar with, but you may change it as you like, I'm sorry)

(Y/n) = Your name

(f/n)= friend's name

It has been two years since I have been married to Fili, King under the Mountain, 4 years since Erebor was reclaimed. The death of Thorin and Kill left a hole in both of our hearts. We were shattered to hear their death, Fili unfortunately saw it happen in front of his eyes, I was In the city of Dale fighting off orcs alongside both the people of lake town and the elves of Mirkwood.

When I made my way up to the Mountain I could not help but fall into tears as Fili looked at the two lifeless bodies of his uncle and brother. Kili was being held by Tauriel. Both were weeping for the death of their loved ones. Despite only meeting them for a short amount of time, Kili had helped me confess to the golden boy when they both were at Laketown.

I owed him a lot, he was kind and so was his uncle. His last words to Fili were to live on and carry the line of Durin.

Now this leads us to know where I currently am laying in bed..

The art of seduction.

Why did I even listen to (f/n) ? My mother in law has also been pestering for Fili and I to have children, I feel like a fool.

Here I laid in bed with rose petals on the floor, laying in nothing but a silk robe.

(f/n) said that once he comes in, I should simply just drop it, I was worried how this would turn out considering Fili and my first time was after our wedding, but we were both to drunk out of our minds to remember. After that he became too busy with Kingly duties, and I was put under the care of Dis to learn the history and rules of Erebor.

I began to hear footsteps... oh god oh god

I feel my stomach drop, " you're okay." I kept whispering to myself as I stood up facing the door.

I leaned on one side of my hip and grabbed my robe, ready to drop it once Fili came in.

Suddenly the door swung open revealing the man himself. On cue I dropped my robe to the ground showing off my body. The cold air instantly hit my breasts making my nipples hard. I felt the cold air between my legs and the sight of him looking me up and down with a smirk made it become wet.

" Darling, what do we have here ?"

Confidence..." Why don't you come and relax with me ?" He began to smirk as he closed the door behind him and locking it then proceeding to walk up to me and caress my cheeks.

He then moved on to my neck, I let out a moan as he began to bite and suck on it probably leaving marks, but at the moments I could only moan in pleasure. I began to rub my legs trying to cause friction, but he parted them," Now now darling, let me slowly enjoy you." He then slipped off his coat and tunic revealing his chiseled chest littered with scars from the war. He was handsome standing in all of his glory, the golden light from the window casting a beautiful glow on his golden hair. Such beautiful Maine.

He kicked off his boots and pushed me down onto the bed kissing me once again while kneeding my breasts and pinching my hardened nipples.

" Fili.. please."

" patience my dear." He whispered into my ear as he kissed down my chest and began to suck on my bud, slowly biting it and abusing it. He began to pinch the other one.

" Such a beautiful chest." he whispered. Such a lewd sound came out of my mouth as he took one of his hands and dragged it down to my wet entrance. He began to part my lips and rub at my clit.

I felt paralyzed with pleasure as he continued to rub at the bud in between my legs and slowly dragging his finger into my hole and inserting it. I let out a gasp as he began to move it in and out.

I moaned more at the feeling of his fingers inside me, he began to add another one making a scissoring motion within me all the while he used his thumb to rub my clit.

" Fili.. God that feels s-so good." I moaned. He kissed my lips once more," Let me hear more of those beautiful moans darling."

I could not help but moan louder when he began to go at a faster paste. I felt this knot in my stomach," F-fili I feel w-weird."

" Just let it go my sweet. "

I felt the knot release and my legs become wetter. I was breathing heavily, Fili then took out his fingers and brought them to my mouth," suck." he said which I obliged. The sight of him made me become even more tuned on. I swirled my tongue around his fingers and sucked before he pulled out of my mouth.

" My, my , you made quite a mess, my queen." I blushed at his words.

He grabbed my legs and put them on his shoulder, " I guess I should clean you up." Then he blew at my entrance and began to lick up all my juices. The foreign feeling was driving me crazy. I almost felt myself scream when he inserted his tongue, thrusting in and out. The pleasure was immense. He began to rub my clit against with his thumb as he sucked.

"F-fili" I felt my stomach began to knot again as he pulled away and told me," Cum my sweet, let me taste you more."

I moved my hips against his mouth and finger as I began to feel the Knott become undone and I came once again. I was panting, feeling overstimulated. I sat up seeing him lick his lips. I pulled him on top of me an kissed him and flipped him to lay on his back.

" Let me please you my love." I whispered as I lowered myself and pulled his pants and underwear down, revealing his hard cock which sprung up and hit him against his abdomen. I stared at the bright pink tip and it stood in all of its veiny glory. I felt my mouth water at the sight. I began to lick at the tip and pump him. He let out breathy groans. I looked him in the eyes as I took him into my mouth. He moaned when I began to suck and pump him.

" God, you minx" he moaned. I took more of him in and used my hand on what did not fit in my mouth. I felt the veins of his cock on my tongue as I swirled it around it.

" Y-you feel so good my love." He moaned and groaned louder as he began to push my head forward causing him to his the back of my throat. I felt my eyes water at the feeling, but at the same time I felt myself become wetter by the minute.

" Ahh" he moaned as I kept deep throating him , the grip on my hair was strong as he began to ride my face.

He then pulled me off and flipped us over so he was on top of me," Not yet, not until I am inside you." He panted.

" May I ?" he asked to which I nodded and felt him enter me and stretch me out completely.

"Ah" I moaned as he swirled his tongue in my mouth and held my hands.

He inserted himself all the way in, I molded around him as he kissed my tears away. I looked him in the eye and nodded which caused him to begin thrusting. I felt myself lose complete control and I began to moan more at the feeling. He felt so amazing, hitting every spot within me.

" So tight" he moaned into my ear as he quickened his pace causing me to arch my back. "Such a dirty little thing." He continued and flipped me on my stomach. He kissed my back and reinserted himself, I felt him even deeper, so deep it brought me to tears

"F-fili.." I moaned

He placed his hand on my stomach," you feel this buldge, that is how deep I am inside you, I am going to shoot my seed within you and fuck you till you're pregnant."

His eyes became darker as his pace quickened, almost felt inhumane. He was hitting the right spots as I moaned and he slapped my ass.

" Such a pretty whore." He whispered in my ear as I arched my back when he grabbed my arms pulling my back into him as he thrusted at the same time causing him to hit my cervix.

" T-too much" I began to whimper, tears coming out of my eyes.

" Take it." He demanded and continued until I felt my stomach knot, it felt painful, I was overstimulated, but that did not stop him from thrusting at a fast pace.

"Fili" I moaned to which he flipped me over and kissed me," Cum for me my love."

We both came at the same time, Fili made sure to continue thrusting into me, not letting a single drop of his cum go to waste.

After we road our highs, he kissed my head pulling me into his chest.

" I love you."

" I love you too Fili."

" Shall I fix us a nice bath my love?"

I nodded.

" Maybe we can have another round." He winked as he got up and walked into the restroom.

I felt my cheeks turn red.

How will I survive the night ?

A/N: This is my first time every writing smut lol, so please bare with me. Remember to touch some grass (:

#lotr #lotr fanfic #fili imagine #fili durin #the hobbit fili #fili #fili smut #lotr x reader #the hobbiit #hobbit x reader #dwarf #dwarves prince #erebor #reclaiming erebor #smut fanfiction #fili oneshot

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lem0nshark-writes · 3 years

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"The City of Ruins"

Thranduil x Male (elf) Reader

Word count: 2344 Summary: Lost lovers reunite 🌙☄

Warnings: angst at first then fluff w/ smut later on, the begining of smut is marked tho so don't worry, reader's a bottom

🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄

After the battle for Erebor you stayed behind in the city of Dale, it wasn't on your own accord, no. If it were up to you you would have returned to Mirkwood with your king, but you were banished from your home.

Such events came to be because you defied your king's orders to fall back and leave the dwarves to deal with orcs on their own. But you weren't gonna let your friends die, you weren't gonna let them fight on their own, even if it meant going against your king's will.

So you stayed behind, betrayed look on your king's face coming to haunt you more often than you'd like to admit. But you knew you did the right thing.

Many moons passed since the battle and you managed to fix yourself a home, it wasn't much, just a lower floor with a fireplace and a spot to lay on, but it's all you could muster up from the city in ruins.

You took it upon yourself to slowly clean and build around yourself, salvaging what you can of the city. And short trips to Laketown took care of your need for food and liquids.

It was a decent life, but terribly horribly lonely.

Your only friend being your thoughts and a bittersweet longing for your rín meleth*.

(*crowned love)

You feelings didn't come as surprise to you, they've been lingering for a while now but you've never acted on them, fearing he wouldn't feel the same and you'd cross a line. And besides, you were just a regular elf, no royalty, why would you ever be a match for him.

Dark stormy clouds gathered around the mountain and the city of Dale, heavy rain moments from being released.

You rushed to your small home in the heart of the city, arms full of twigs and branches, racing the time against the rain. And you made it in in the last second because just as you closed the door the sky came crashing down in big droplets.

You let out a sigh of relief and made your way to the fireplace, placing the newbrought wood at the side of it and started the night's fire. After making sure it's well lit and strong, you moved the remaining wood on the side for later.

You got up and took off unnecessary layers of clothes and your boots as the room started to fill up with warmth, setting them on their spot near the door.

Fixing your hair up in a messy bun you sat down on your bed and just as your were about to lay down for your daily rest, an unexpected knock on the door broke the comfortable silence mixed in with the crackling of the fire.

You looked up at the door and slowly got up, wondering who could it be as no guests announced themselves for the following days.

Creaking the door open your eyes widened in surprise. There in front of you, soaked in rain head to toe, stood none other than your ex king.

Your shock was soon pushed away by reminiscence of betrayal and old memories that came flooding your thoughts.

"How could you do that to me?.." pained expression pushed it's way through on kings face, trying to overcome the angry one that he tried so hard to keep.

"I already told you, but I guess you've gone deaf on your ears, I wouldn't and I won't let my friends die because you were too much of a coward to fight!" you started slow and calm but by the end of the sentence got louder and angrier, fire of the old argument rekindling fast.

"I am no coward! I did that to save the lives of our people! To save your life!" he growled back.

Anger gushed through your body but you said nothing, staring at his icy blue eyes.

"You might be-You maybe were my king, but my friends' lives are more important than your orders," you turned away, walking deeper into the house.

Thranduil followed, doors closing after him, and looked around a bit, feeling bad seeing how you lived since he threw you out of your home.

"You're so stubborn.." he sighed heavily, "What if something happened to you? What would I do then? What would I do without you??"

You turned around slightly and looked over at him. Worry of past events and what-ifs ridden across his face mixing with anger towards your stubbornness.

"You did just fine.." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking back away to hide your tears, old feelings starting to become too much.

He looked at you in shock for a few moments before regaining his ability to speak, "What… You think I enjoyed banishing you?? You think I enjoyed returning home without you and spending months an months with you nowhere in sight?? You think I like that?? .. When people ask me where you are?? .. Not seeing your face ever day??…"

"You think my soul isn't tearing into pieces without my meleth.." he looked at you, sadness twisting his face into a pained expression.

Your eyes widened at the last part and you turned around swiftly, standing there with your mouth agape for a few moments before speaking, " . . . Your meleth?.."

Thranduil's eyes widened a bit as well after he realized what he had said but then closed slowly as his expression melted into one of saddened agreement.

"You loved me?.." you asked softly.

He nodded, ". . . I still do.."

"Why didn't you say anything?.." you took a few steps towards the taller male, closing the gap between you two almost completely, and searched his eyes with your own.

"I feared you wouldn't feel the same.. and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you if that were true.." he finally gazed back at you.

"Silly king," you muttered through a slight smile forming on your face, " I loved you for hundreds of years, and I still do," you took his hands in yours and held them to your chest.

At your words his face lit up like forest in spring waking up from a long winter dream and he leaned I swiftly, locking his lips with yours, something he's been yearning to do for so long.

Without thinking you returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace and he did the same, his strong arms washing away all the worries and making you feel like the whole world around you disappeared.

"Return home with me my meleth, rule as a king by my side, let's never part again," he whispered into your neck.

Your lips spread into a warm smile as you gazed upon his eyes, "I'd like that very much."

((smut continuation from here on))

The two of you settled down on a crapet by the fireplace, setting your journey back to Mirkwood for tomorrow, when the storm hopefully calms down.

You forced the king to take off the outer layer of his clothes to put to dry by the fire and he undid his wet hair too, allowing it to dry easier on the warm air.

The two of you rested in each other's arms for a while, letting the fire warm you both up as you chatted exchanging some old stories and talks of your lingering feelings.

He smiled down at you, arms wrapped around your body as you rested your back against his chest. You looked up at him, returning the smile, "What?"

"Nothing. I just am wondering why we didn't confess sooner," he placed a warm kiss onto your jaw.

"Me too," your eyes instantly closed as he did that, "I guess we are two completely oblivious idiots," you added with a chuckle.

He let out a chuckle as well, "That we are." He grinned and kissed you deepy, passion spilling out from his lips.

You smiled into the kiss and returned just as passionately, cupping his cheeks in the process.

The bigger elf moved slightly, allowing your bodies to face each other, before wrapping his arms around you again.

The two of your kept on kissing, the kiss turning from slow and passionate to yearning and with a lot more tongue.

His hands started roaming your body and soon enough your vest was off, and shortly after your shirt too.

At the motion you parted your kiss and the two of you exchanged a knowing look. And just as quickly his lips were back on yours and your hands now undoing his top.

Once you won the battle with his shirt he moved his lips to your neck, tracing kisses and licks before the same turned into bites and sucks, leaving hickeys behind that ended up littering your neck and your chest.

You moaned on his actions, running your fingers through his hair and giving it a gentle thug on each bite he left on your soft skin.

He moved his attention to your lower stomach, leaving warm kisses there as he slipt your pants off with a single swift move.

You looked up at him, the two of you locking eyes, as you bit your lower lip. His gaze trailed around your body, taking in every bit of it, "Y/n.. you're beautiful.." he said, lust-laced desire dripping off his words.

The tone he spoke in made you shiver under his touch. He gave you a deep kiss and then proceeded to take his pants off too and soon enough both of yours undergarments followed.

He laid you down and got on top of you, kissing you deeply once again.

Your eyes stayed locked with his abs and, well, lower parts, being slightly taken aback by how good he looks.

He quickly caught up on your thoughts and smirked, making you in return blush like mad.

"Like what you see?" Thranduil smirked at his smaller lover who by the looks of it was about to burst into flames from the redness his cheeks reached caused by his words and that smug smirk Thranduil proudly wore.

He chuckled at his lover's sudden shyness and let his hand trail to his already errect memeber.

You gasped softly at the feel of his fingers on you and your eyes closed from pleasure, hand rushing to your mouth to silent the escaping moans.

Thranduil's hand reached for yours and moved it from your mouth, pinning it above your head, "I like your moans, don't hide them," he smirked and left kisses across your yaw and neck once again, as his hand worked magic bringing you all the way to the edge before abruptly stopping.

You looked up at him in wonder, unpleased and yearning for the pleasure to come back. He smirked softly at you and pulled you by your thighs closer to himself and his face went down.

You looked up at what he was up to and gasped in pleasure when you felt his slick tongue move against your hole. You fell back and your eyes rolled in sweetness as his tongue made it's way into you. It twisted and turned inside you, sending waves of pleasure all throughout your body, his hands squeezing your butt cheeks as they held onto them.

Once again you were on the edge of an orgasm and once again he pulled away just as you were about to reach it.

You whined slightly this time, pouting at his repeated action.

"Shhhhhh you'll like what comes next better-," he smirked at you and sat himself up again, grabbing at the sides of your thighs as he positioned himself at your now wet entrance.

You propped yourself up just enough to reach his lips and kiss him deeply, which he gladly returned, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek.

"Ready?" he smiled at you warmly as you two held your faces close to one another. You gave him a soft nod, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

He slowly started pushing in, giving you enough time in-between each little push to adjust to him in you, moans rolling off your tongue along with rugged breaths.

Once he was all the way inside you he kissed you deeply, distracting you from any lingering pain till it all melted away into burning pleasure.

Holding at your sides he slowly started moving his hips pushing his big length in and out of you, at first slowly before picking up the pace. Moans streamed out of both of your mouths mixed up with muffled breathing between kisses.

"Ahhhh hhhhhngggg…" moans left your mouth one after the other as he picked up the pace even more, hand back on your ass and squeezing it.

Your finger nails raked his back in pleasure causing him to moan your name out between paced breaths, "Y/n… ahhh-."

You moved your lips to his neck, leaving the tall elf an even bigger moaning mess as you left hickey upon hickey against his skin.

He slapped your ass in the moment as he pushed in even deeper, reaching that sweet sweet spot, making you moan his name out even louder than before. He picked up on that and started hitting that spot repeatedly with even greater strength making you melt completely underneath him.

He could tell you were very close and so was he, and with a few more strong thrusts both of you came hard, moaning each other's names and spilling, you on his and yours stomach and him inside of you.

Panting he brought himslef down and placed a loving kiss on your lips, exhausted with pleasure and still riding your orgasm you returned.

He gently pulled out and plopped down next to you, pulling you close into his warm embrace.

You two stayed like that for a while, hugging and unable to reach your breaths.

Once your breath returned to your lungs you snuggled up into his chest and kissed his yaw, "I love you my king."

He smiled down at you and hugged you tighter, placing a long kiss onto your lips, "I love you too meleth."

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neostriatum · 1 year

Text

Somewhere ages and ages hence

[AO3] [Dreamwidth]

It was marriage season in Dale, the first in generations. What need did Thranduil have, to sit here instead of in his woods?

Laketown had been scarce in festivities, due mostly to its precarious building upon the lake and its capricious series of Masters that left the rest groveling upon what they could catch.

It was not a simple life, no, but it was an eventful one.

He had to hand it to the one neighboring king not in attendance – Thorin certainly had the right of it with such a countenance. It was easier to keep up than smiling at every turn.

“Is this why you’re here for yet another wedding?” Bard asked wryly, mimicking a toast to the man. He was obliged with a tilt of the head, provoking a grin out of him.

Maybe there was something to be read into his flushed cheeks, but the elf settled more easily into his own chair. Lounging, almost, and those thoughts were quickly shuffled away, too. There was no gaping tunic to politely ignore the depths of, but the shimmer of cleverly-woven silk played well with the almost-invisible blondness of Thranduil’s hair.

Tilting a brow at him, Thranduil looked both amused and curious at his question, then leaned abruptly forward to grab the tankard from his startled grasp. An apology at the tip of his tongue, he could only watch as the elf smirked and took a hearty swallow of the beer, Bard’s face most assuredly red at the sight and its accompanying thoughts.

Bard nodded, finding it easier to focus on the subject rather than the sight out of sheer curiosity, “One would think you well-acclimated. You command their loyalty well.”

“Hmm,” Thranduil cut a glance at him, “I suppose marrying one of them was good cause to unify ourselves.”

A thought niggled at him, and he voiced it before he could think better of it, “I thought elves weren’t ones for arranged marriages.”

He watched the man take another sip of his purloined beer, the ethereal grace somehow scarcely touched by such a mundane action. Perhaps it was the setting sun that gave him confidence, or the reflected glow of the moon on Thranduil’s skin, but he couldn’t help but murmur, “I can see why she did so.”

He shook his head, “I think perhaps it was love that drew her toward you, to see if your heart spoke the same as hers.”

Thranduil stared at him, not quite a smile lingering on his face, but he didn’t dare interpret it as a measure of awe in his direction. He was loathe to let the moment break, meeting the look with one of his own, not sure how many of his emotions were on his face to be read as clearly as a story.

“I think…” The elf murmured, leaning toward him, “That perhaps you are right. You are a font of unexpected wisdom, Bard, and one that is appreciated.”

That Thranduil seemed as entranced as he did by the sight of their fingers twining over the handle of the tankard did not escape him, but rather made his heart flutter in a way it had done little since the passing of his own wife.

“It would do them a disservice,” He murmured, leaning in as Thranduil had done, “To lose ourselves in grief, and forget what can draw a smile toward us.”

Thranduil’s eyes shone in the approaching moonlight, creased as they were with some warm, unknown emotion, “I agree.”

Author's Notes

Title taken from Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken".

Written for @bi-widower-dadsds April 29th prompt, "Marriage".

#the hobbit #barduil #my stories

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