#Thorin's in a very bad mood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fizzyxcustard · 8 months

Text

Knife's Edge

Currently on AO3 here

Fandom(s): The Hobbit crossover with Legend (1985)

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader & Darkness x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are living in Erebor. Thorin decides to admit his feelings to you after speaking with Dis, his sister and your best friend. However, you are having dreams of a creature from another world. He is becoming more powerful, trying to lure you into his world where you can be his Queen. When the lust and pull toward the creature become too much, you step into his world and meet Darkness. You have already promised yourself to Thorin. Will Darkness' seduction be enough to overthrow it all? Or will you still have enough strength inside you to follow your heart?

Warnings: Smut, graphic sexual themes, insecurity, anxiety, sex dreams, monster and human sexual encounters, violence, language, breeding kink mention, power/lust/greed themes.

(This fic is very sexually explicit and has a lot of lust/power/greed themes, while also working on the monster/human sexual references. If this is not to your liking then please do not read. You have been warned)

Comments: Currently on AO3 here / Part 2 is in the works.

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from any tag lists.

The dreams had begun one night in the middle of winter, when the stone hallways of Erebor were bitter cold. And you woke in the witching hours, dripping in sweat, despite having wrapped yourself up tightly in the furs. The figure had visited you from the shadows, beckoning you to his palace in which all light had fled from. His voice stirred something from deep within your core, a need and a desire of which you have never felt before.

As you opened your eyes, the pulsing between your legs becoming duller, you reached for a glass of water which was beside your bed. Your hand fumbled around, almost knocking the candle off the wooden surface. Your breathing was still hitched, and your heart was racing.

The figure’s voice echoed in your mind, although his words seem to have become jumbled. All you could keep hold of was the feel of velvet and delectable pleasure which had raged through you upon hearing the voice.

***

At breakfast, which you shared with Dis, King Thorin’s younger sister, you were quiet. Her blue eyes searched for any hint as to if you were ill, or perhaps were in a melancholy mood. Humans had always been unusual beings, she thought. Not as forthright as Dwarves. But still, she loved you like family, welcoming you to Erebor when you had arrived after journeying with Thorin and his Company to re-claim the kingdom of Erebor. In fact, your very existence to everyone was a mystery. You had claimed to have come from a land only known as ‘Earth’, having appeared out on the road very suddenly.

“We have visitors from Dale this morning, and Thorin has asked we be present to welcome them,” Dis announced. Her eyes were still watching you, as you pushed a piece of bread around your plate, not having had the appetite to eat it, or any of the two boiled eggs that had been prepared for you.

Something about the dream had felt so real, and you couldn’t shake the way it had burrowed into your mind.

“Are you alright?” Dis asked, her voice sharp. “You are extremely distracted this morning. Are you ill?”

“No,” you said softly, straightening your back. “I’m sorry. I had a rough night; bad dreams and didn’t sleep well.”

***

Meanwhile, Thorin was sat in his private study. For the last week and all he had thought about was the question that he wished to raise with you. For most of the time that Thorin had known you, he had been in love with you. At first, he felt fear at the fact that his heart was yearning for one who was not of his race and from another world entirely. The idea that you were merely a novelty had crossed his mind early on, but had soon been discarded. The way his chest compressed when he saw you, and his stomach clenched, and all he could do was smile when your gaze reached him. That said it all. You were always in his thoughts. When Erebor had been close to attack from orcs at the Battle of Five Armies, and Thorin had succumb to madness, his mind was still focused on you. He wanted the gold so he could be worthy of you.

Thorin stood from his desk, straightened his robe and picked up his crown, placing it against his raven locks, which were touched with silver streaks. Even the crown upon his head didn’t feel enough for you.

A gentle knock at Thorin’s door broke him from his reverie. “Yes, come!” he called.

Dis slipped into the room and approached her brother, offering him a smile. She said your name and watched as Thorin’s head immediately turned to face her. “I’m worried about her. At breakfast she was quiet, too quiet. Her mind was away elsewhere, and while she denied being ill and blamed her mood on a bad night sleep, I’m not convinced. Have you spoken with her about your proposal?”

A doubt had snuck into Thorin’s heart at Dis’ words. “I wished to ask her to dinner tonight and pose the question, but to hear that she is like this, should I?”

“Maybe such a dinner will raise her spirits.”

Thorin sighed and closed his eyes.

“You doubt her love for you, don’t you?” Dis asked.

“How can I be so certain of it?”

“I see the way she looks as you, Thorin. There is no denying that.”

“I do not feel even this crown is enough for her,” Thorin said, his voice becoming tinged with pain and sadness.

Dis sat down on the opposite side of the desk. “You overcame the self-doubt of re-claiming Erebor from Smaug. How can you not overcome this? She is but one person…”

“Who holds my heart, Dis,” Thorin sighed. “I do not know if I could face rejection from her. If there is part of me that is cowardly, it is this. I would rather fight a thousand orcs than have to declare my love to her, only for it to be unrequited.”

***

Once the visitors from Dale had dispersed to the guest wing, you remained in your seat at the council table. The sight of Thorin had pulled you from the dreams. He raised the flutter in your stomach, the heat in your chest and a smile upon your lips.

Thorin glanced across at you and met your gaze. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of your smile, and he reciprocated that smile.

Dis smirked to herself from her seat beside you. In her mind, the two of you were complete idiots. The self-doubt was astounding, and it was the one thing that made you so alike, along with your loyalty and kindness. However, that was where your similarities ended.

One by one, everyone left the room, leaving only you and Thorin behind.

You got up, ready to leave, when he ushered you back. “May I have a moment with you?” he asked.

Thorin’s heart was pounding, but he was going to do this one way or the other. He would overcome the cowardice that was taking hold of him.

You stepped closer to him, and couldn’t help but smile again. He was incredibly handsome, and you had once dreamed of what his kiss would feel like, of what it would feel like to be one with him, and carry his child. This future you yearned for so ardently. But to be married to a king? It was a ridiculous notion.

“W…would you have dinner with me tonight?” Thorin asked.

This was the first time you had ever heard him stumble over his words. You could sense the uncertainty in his voice and posture. His blue eyes had now dropped to the floor. Reassurance was what he needed in those moments, to show him that you cared for him above everyone else. You took his hand in yours. “I would be honoured, my king,” you said.

Thorin’s gaze then locked with yours and he smiled, on the brink of a chuckle, as if relieved.

There were unsaid words lingering between you both, and the electricity was gathering momentum. Something had to break. “What troubles you?” you asked. On impulse, your free hand reached up and brushed a stray hair from his face. Your other hand was still in his.

“I…I have wanted you for so long,” Thorin whispered. His eyes were ablaze with fear and doubt. “You consume me.”

Sighing, you pressed your forehead to his. “I am not worthy of you, my king. I never was.”

Thorin reached up and removed the crown from his head, placing it down on the table, and then cupped your cheeks. His gaze sank into yours, and then the two of you kissed.

***

“I would raise you up!” the figure snarled from your peripheral vision.

It was the witching hour once more and your dreams had pulled you back to the palace of shadows. The voice now had audible words.

“I will raise you up as a queen!” the voice came again. “He will always treat you as being beneath him.”

You swept through the dark corridors, chasing the voice. The only light was a fire burning in the distance, beckoning you on.

“He took off his crown for you. I would give you a crown, my queen. I would give you the world to do with as you please. Come to me.”

Heat furled in your stomach, spreading outward, causing that pulsing to begin again at the juncture of your thighs. “Where are you?” you called.

You entered a room where the back wall was brightly lit by the fire burning opposite. A huge bed dominated the centre of the room, filled with furs and black velvet sheets. A musky and earthy scent filled the room, and immediately you sensed eyes watching you.

Fear gripped you, mingled with arousal. And suddenly you felt a hand rest on your shoulder and then move downward, ghosting over your breasts, which were now bare. Your whole body was naked, open to whoever this creature was. The hand had long, black claws and the skin was crimson. The creature’s touch caused intense heat to spark beneath your skin as it kept moving, towards your navel. Electricity was surging around you and the pulsing got more intense, making a deep groan to erupt from you.

“He will never let you ascend to the place you should be,” the voice came again. The creature’s breath was hot on your neck. You felt something wet and hot slip up your neck to the point at which your earlobe connected to your cheek. “That is not love. I would worship you as my queen and my mate. Give you everything you’ve ever wanted; give you power.”

Your eyes shot open and you gasped. Realisation hit you: you were in bed, in Erebor. Next to the bed, on your table, was a red rose which Thorin had left you. The red petals reminded you of the creature’s skin, and it made you shiver.

Since your kiss with Thorin after the council meeting, and you had had dinner with him. The two of you shared in your memories of the quest, laughing and holding hands across the table. Then Thorin had shared a glass of wine with you, his silver blue eyes gazing at you in adoration and disbelief that you felt the same way as he. The two of you had walked slowly down the hallway, with your arm curled around his. “Goodnight, my love,” he whispered to you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. A blush flourished on his cheeks as you moved away.

In all the time you had known Thorin and you had always been attracted to him; his voice, eyes, presence. Everything about him made your chest ache, and cause a yearning for a deeper connection. Your heart was frantically beating, wanting him.

And now you were sat upon the edge of your bed, thinking of the caresses of a creature of the shadows. Whenever you were in the company of Thorin, all memory of the creature disappeared. And now that you were thinking upon the creature, Thorin’s face had faded.

***

After you had dressed, a knock came to your door.

You walked to the door and as you opened it, a huge smile curled your lips upward at the sight of Thorin.

The king reached for you, twirling you around, as if dancing. “I have requested breakfast be brought for us,” he said softly, pulling you in close and winding his arm around your waist.

You leaned to him and kissed him, feeling him immediately respond. Your tongues met in a pent up frustration that the two of you had held at bay for many months. All you could feel was sheer joy, delight and love radiating from your chest.

Thorin’s hands cupped your cheeks, his fingers caressing downward towards your jaw, tickling your earlobes.

A sudden flash of memory shot into your mind. The creature’s tongue leaving a trail of wet heat down your neck. The flash of memory made you jump.

“Are you alright?” Thorin asked, his eyes growing concerned.

For the first time and the creature was breaking through into your time with Thorin, beckoning you into the shadows. ��Yes, I’m sorry,” you replied, holding your head in shame and disgust.

Thorin rested his finger against your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his. “You are not alright, dear one. Dis told me yesterday that you had not slept well. What bothers you? All of your cares and worries are also mine.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Thorin,” you replied, stepping back from him.

“Why do you feel I would not?” he snapped.

You sighed and closed your eyes, knowing you had deeply offended him.

I will raise you up. I will give you power beyond your wildest imaginations.

The voice was so real, yet still felt distant. It curled around you, making that arousal snake its way down your spine and between your legs. Your breathing sped up and you sat back down on the edge of the bed. “I can’t,” you gasped.

Thorin’s eyes were dark in anger and rejection, your words hitting him square in the chest so painfully. “If you cannot bare your all to me as I would do for you, then…”

“Thorin,” you said again. “Please. Don’t put this between us.”

“No, you are putting it between us.”

You could see the pain and despair sitting in his eyes, making his shoulders droop in defeat. With a sigh, you began to speak again. “I’ve been having dreams. A demonic creature is somehow connected to me and won’t leave me alone.”

Thorin fell to his knee in front of you and cupped your cheek again. “My love? Look at me.”

You looked into those eyes you loved so dearly.

“The creature cannot hurt you,” he said. “I promise you that while I breathe, I will always protect you.”

Once your breakfast had arrived, you began to eat, temporarily forgetting the creature. Thorin was sat in a chair beside your bed as you remained on the edge of your bed. He watched you eat and as you ate the last mouthful, he reached into the inside pocket of his robe, pulling out a velvet pouch.

“I know that our customs are different, but I wish to indulge the Dwarf custom and ask for your hand in courtship, as is right. And with that, I offer you this ring,” he said, taking a gold ring from the velvet bag.

You looked at the bright gold band which was adorned with amethyst stones, seven of them forming a circle in the gold. “You remembered when I told you that purple is my favourite colour,” you whispered.

Thorin smiled, and that blush rose on his cheeks again. He reached for your hand and slipped the gold band onto your ring finger on your right hand, knowing the left would be kept for engagement and marriage, as was your custom.

***

Thorin wished you a goodnight, and as he did, he kissed your cheek. “If you have any unwelcome dreams again, my love, please come to my chambers.”

The two of you parted ways and you placed another red rose in a vase on your bedside table.

My queen.

The voice swept around you again. This time it was more powerful, sounding as though it were in the room with you.

Sleep and come to me.

You lost all control and slipped away, all consciousness leaving you. But as your conscious mind drifted away, your body rose from the bed and stepped toward the full length mirror at the bottom of your bed. Your eyes remained closed, yet your body knew where to tread. The surface of the mirror looked like silver water, and with one step, you disappeared into it.

***

Were you awake or still dreaming? Everything around you was dark, with only the light from the end of a hallway. You blinked hard and sat up. Everything around you felt so real; the cold surface of the stone beneath your legs and the chatter that you could hear. Distant voices whispered.

She is here. Finally she is here. The Lord of Darkness has finally found his mate and one true queen.

Darkness? Was that his name? The red creature.

You got to your feet and looked around, everything still so dark. Your heart was thumping hard in your chest, in both fear and anticipation. The glow of light beckoned you down the hallway, just as it had in your dream.

As you reached the end of the hallway, you turned the corner and found yourself in a large room with a bed in the centre, and opposite was an open fire. Everything was as it was in your dream the night before. Even the black velvet sheets and furs on the bed.

Suddenly you sensed a presence behind you and for a few seconds you were glued to the spot in fear.

“My queen,” a voice came. That deep, velvet voice. Just the sound of it made liquid fire burn in your belly.

A hand brushed around your neck and that all too familiar scent of musk and earth hit your nose. Even his smell was beckoning you, pulling at your very core, that most primal part of you.

Slowly you turned, and there before you was a creature who towered above you. His skin was crimson, with bright yellow eyes gazing at you in lust and amusement. His face was pointed, with angular features. Huge, black horns grew from his head. His upper torso was muscular, being the body of a man. As your gaze slipped down, you saw that from his waist down was the body of what appeared to be a goat. His waist and legs were covered in black fur. Considering that his form was one that would normally make terror rise in those that looked upon it, you felt fascinated.

“You are not disappointed by what you see, my lady?” Darkness asked.

Your gaze finally met his, and you felt an intense shiver race down the entirety of your body.

Darkness reached for you and picked up your hand, placing it against his chest. It was red hot. He closed his eyes upon your touch. “I have yearned for touch for centuries.” His voice was on the edge of a groan.

You gasped at the feel of him and the pleasure which radiated from his voice. Your hand slipped up his chest, toward his neck. Suddenly Darkness grabbed your hips and lifted you, and on instinct, you locked your legs around his waist.

He walked with you to the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. And as he stopped, hovering above the bed, he took your lips against his. The kiss was hot, heavy, demanding. His long tongue caressed the inside of your mouth, beckoning you forth.

As you parted from the kiss, he chuckled at you. “I will give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Pleasure beyond anything you have ever felt, power, riches. Ask and it will be yours. Never would I keep a crown from you as he does. He would see you without that power.”

Thorin. His face was so far away again, and you shook your head, trying to bring his handsome face back to the forefront of your memory but he would not come. “He knows that I do not feel worthy of him.”

“You are worthy of everything,” Darkness snarled. He lowered you to the edge of the bed and then reached for two glasses which were on a nearby table, pouring two glasses of wine. “The Dwarf would happily keep you beneath him to maintain his own ego.”

“You don’t know Thorin like I do,” you shot back.

“He thinks he can buy you with jewels.”

“And you can buy me with promises of pleasure and power.”

Darkness growled, his eyes locked on your ring. “Remove that ring and be mine; I would love you, worship you.”

You sipped the wine, feeling your body begin to scream for him once again. The intensity of his need of you, and his desperation.

You rose to your feet, placed the glass down on the table and then approached Darkness who had seated himself on the edge of the bed. For a couple of seconds, you studied his face. It was somehow handsome to you, in a way that you couldn’t fathom. You slid into his lap, straddling him and kissed him again. Within seconds and he was sucking your neck, his hands caressing your breasts, and the tips of his claws brushing over the fabric of your clothing.

Darkness’ breath was rising, that animal side of him also breaking out. His hands ripped your clothes and flung them to the far side of the room. “I will make you feel things you have never felt before,” he moaned against you as you rose up onto your knees, still resting on his thighs. Your arms were tight around is neck. “Fuck you until you are numb.”

The words spurred you on and you kissed him again, hard and ferocious. He picked you up in his muscular arms and slipped you around, lowering you to the bed so he was now in control.

Darkness kissed down your body, his long tongue sliding across your flesh. He could taste the first hints of sweat on you, and he revelled in the salty flavour. Your breasts, down your stomach and into the space between your thighs.

“I have never known someone so wanton,” Darkness grinned. “I can smell you. The intensity of it is enough to send me to the brink. And, even better, you are ovulating. I will keep going until you bear my child, no matter how long it takes. If I have to keep you locked in here for days, so be it. I may even call the goblins in to watch.”

The words made your whole head swarm with a haze of euphoria. The pulsing between your legs was so intense now that you locked your legs around his waist again, dragging him in closer.

Darkness laced his hand in yours and eased your ring from your finger. It fell to the stone floor and rolled away. “I will bring you so much more than he could!” Darkness chuckled.

***

Thorin had remained awake that night, unable to rest at the thought of you being haunted by the demon creature. All he could think of was holding you to his chest, fighting away all of those disturbing night visions.

He rose from his bed, pulling a robe on and began his walk down the main hallway toward your chamber. Torches lit his way and as he got to your room, he opened the door, knowing you would probably be asleep. However, as he trailed the darkness, following the gentle glow of the candle at your bedside, he saw you were nowhere to be seen.

Terror rose in his chest at the thought of you having disappeared from him. He gazed around the room, noticing a blue glow coming from the mirror at the end of your bed. The surface was moving, reminding him of liquid silver.

Thorin stepped towards the mirror, confused and shocked.

***

Your whole body was on fire and you writhed on the bed as Darkness’ hands roamed you. The tips of his claws gently scratched your breasts and stomach, drawing a loud groan from you.

“Give yourself to me and seal it, be my mate and queen,” Darkness said, his hot breath wafting across your belly.

You groaned again and arched off the bed, your body needing him.

Darkness may have held the rationale of humans, but he was more animal. That need to possess you and impregnate you was becoming unbearable, and the more you groaned and writhed, the closer he was to forcing himself upon you. His member had risen and was visible through his thick, black fur.

“Will you accept me?” he asked, his tongue licking your earlobe. The palm of his hand was cupping the mound at the juncture of your thighs, and his fingers tickled, circling the aroused flesh.

All you could do was groan again. Your hands were gripping the sheets so tight that it felt you were about to fall off the knife’s edge there and then, and completely succumb. An image flashed through your mind, a picture of you standing before a mirror, clothed entirely in black. Beneath your dress was a huge belly, showing your ability to conceive Darkness’ child. The reflection you only just recognised as yourself; your eyes were completely black, overtaken by evil and the desire for power. And there, behind your reflection, was Thorin. “My love?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“THORIN!’ you screamed suddenly, jerking away from Darkness.

Darkness growled, his whole face turning livid. “Useless bitch!” he shouted. His hand swung outwards and slapped your face, knocking you off the bed.

Terror took over as you scrambled backwards, edging away from him as he circled the bed.

“You DARE raise a hand to her!” a voice came from the room’s entrance.

Your head snapped in the direction of the voice. It was Thorin. He must have been able to slip through the mirror and had followed the corridor.

Darkness chuckled. “I’m going to enjoy this, Dwarf. I’ll make her watch every single moment of me ripping your heart out of your chest. Then I’ll eat it in front of her.”

Thorin’s face remained darkened by anger and hatred towards this filthy beast before him. He looked down to you, and in those moments, the hatred melted as he smiled at you. “Leave when you can,” he told you. “Make for the corridor.” Then his silver blue eyes turned back to the demon who was slowly approaching him.

“You think you can defeat me?” Darkness laughed. “I have lived for millennia, feeding off the pain, hate and need for pleasures. I cannot think you believe I can be defeated so easily.”

Something touched your hand, a cold metal. It was your ring. You slipped it back onto your hand quickly, and as you did, your clothing magically returned to your body, appearing around you.

Thorin was defenceless, without a weapon. His eyes scanned the room, until Darkness was upon him.

A red hand reached out and grabbed Thorin by the throat, pushing him against the wall.

A shriek erupted from your mouth and you lunged at the two glasses on the table, smashing one against the floor. As quick as a flash, adrenaline pumping through you, you slashed at Darkness’ chest, you only just being able to reach. Then as he howled and turned, you aimed for his neck. Blood began to spurt out of the wound, making him drop Thorin to the ground. The creature continued howling, twisting in pain and anger.

Thorin grabbed your hand and the two of you began your race back through the corridor, hearing Darkness’ loud stamps behind you.

Terror gripped you in your chest and you continued running, both you and Thorin keeping at each other’s pace.

“I’ll kill the fucking pair of you!” Darkness howled.

At the end of the corridor was the same silver shine from the mirror, which had covered the entire wall. Without even thinking, the two of you jumped through, landing back on the stone floor of your chamber in Erebor.

Thorin dashed around and grabbed the edge of the mirror just as a red arm reached through. But the demon could not win. With a flash of blue light and an animalistic howl, the mirror was thrown to the floor and smashed.

Shards of mirror sprayed across the floor, spreading the entire width of the room.

You stood still, your heart pounding so hard in your chest and felt tears spill down your cheeks. Shame and guilt hit you so hard that you placed your hands on the edge of the bed and wretched, bringing back a mouthful of red wine mixed with bile.

Thorin heard your wretch and raced to your side, curling his arm around your waist. “My love…”

“Don’t,” you whispered. “Don’t call me that, please.” All you could do was weep, your shoulders juddering in your throes of anguish. “I’m sorry…” you sobbed. “I was so close to being taken from you forever. I know you’ll never forgive me.” You shifted away from Thorin. “Don’t touch me.”

He whispered your name. “Please…”

“I can’t.”

Thorin took your hand, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles. “I promised you that I would always protect you, and I will never stop. That beast attempted to seduce you, my love. The promise of pleasures and wealth can be easy to fall prey to. I know that all too well, yet you seem to forget that.”

“Thorin, don’t talk about that. What happened with the gold…”

“Was a seduction. Mine was of the mind and yours was of the body, but our hearts are what guides us. I heard you call my name, and it was you that called me back from the edge of being completely lost to madness.”

Tears still run down your cheeks and you turned away from Thorin, closing your eyes. You felt nothing but guilt and shame, dragging you down to the lowest you had ever felt. “I can’t do this. I can’t…”

Without another word, Thorin pulled you in to himself and kissed you. It was slow at first, warm and wanting, and then it became deeper. Your whole chest was now alight with such joy and delight; that was how you wanted to feel, not ashamed and at odds with your body. Kissing Thorin was where your whole body became synced and aligned. Your heart was beating with joy, your body was aroused by him, and your mind knew that this was true love.

“That’s how love feels,” you whispered. “It’s at the core of everything.”

Thorin pressed his brow to yours. “Forgive yourself, dear one. Let tonight pass from your memory, and in its place, we shall forge a new life together where our love and lust can exist in equal measure.”

“I cannot believe you can forgive me,” you said, kissing his temple. “I betrayed you physically.”

Thorin sighed. “My love, there have been stories told through time regarding the dark powers that can easily seduce the weakest willed of people. You fought that; this was no ordinary seduction. That beast had power. I could feel it as soon as I entered his domain. You said that he had been coming to you in dreams, beckoning you. Dream walkers have been spoke about for many years.”

“I hope he’s gone now, but I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the end. He’ll come for me again. He wanted me to give myself to him and even removed my ring.”

“Because that is a symbol of our love. Even without it, that love we share saved you.”

You brushed your fingers idly through Thorin’s hair. “You have no idea how beautiful you are,” you told him, feeling nothing but awe for him. “And to think that you want me as I want you.”

“Shh, come now,” Thorin cooed. He took your hand and pulled you up from the bedside. “I will have a bath drawn for us.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” you giggled.

“I wish to pamper you and surely there is no time limit on that.”

Thorin did as proposed and requested that a bath be drawn for you both. As the hot water poured into the tiled bath, fresh towels and soaps were brought to you both. Two serving girls smiled at you in amusement as they dashed back and forth, preparing everything.

By the time everything was ready, Thorin stepped across to you and stood behind you, kissing the base of your neck. “I can feel the tension in your shoulders, my love. Come and relax.”

You both disrobed, neither of you feeling an ounce of shame, considering this was the first time you had seen each other naked.

The bath was large with two steps that led down, it reminding you of a small swimming pool. Steam rose from the water and your first step in stung slightly as the hot water met your cool skin.

Thorin stepped in after you and you couldn’t help but keep your gaze locked on his broad shoulders. He was muscular, toned by years of activity from combat and working as a blacksmith. That also meant that he was littered with small scars. As you had imagined, he was well endowed, showing off quite an impressive girth.

For a second you thought back on your feelings that had been uncovered by your time with Darkness. Everything had been pure attraction and arousal, like molten lava coursing through you. But looking upon Thorin was different; every part of you was awakened. All of your body was ignited in your love for him.

He gazed at you, his silver blue depths bright with love and admiration. There was a contentment in his eyes that you had never seen before his revelation of love. Before that and he had always held sadness in his face. It had always been your belief that behind a lot of Thorin’s frustrations was sadness and hurt. You wanted to heal him.

The two of you embraced and then kissed. Thorin’s hands were slow to move, starting off in your hair and then moving down to your neck, your shoulders, breasts. There was no force or rush like there had been with Darkness.

Thorin washed you slowly, massaging the sponge covered in soap over the skin of your upper back. “You are quiet,” he said.

“I’m just enjoying your presence, and contemplating how you make me feel.”

“Oh? Do you wish to indulge me?”

You giggled. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes,” Thorin whispered to your ear.

You turned around to face him. “I want to give myself to you, now.”

“There is no rush, my love. Considering what you have been through tonight…”

“That doesn’t matter. I want you, Thorin. Every part of you. If you’ll let me have it.”

Thorin never answered and pressed his lips to yours hungrily, letting you know his answer. It would only ever be a resounding yes.

The two of you slipped out of the bath, drew towels around your waist and made your way back to your chamber. Once inside, you stood before Thorin and let your towel drop to the floor. He rushed at you again, drawing his hands up your cheeks and groaning at the impact.

You leaned back on the bed, him following you.

Thorin’s lips trailed down your body slowly, his beard tickling the hot skin. That arousal was surging again, only this time it was mingled with something far deeper: love. This time you wanted to bond with Thorin, connect with him in every way that was possible.

You felt his fingers delve into the curls at the juncture of your thighs and immediately you felt your inner core begin to want more, so much more. A groan escaped your lips and slowly Thorin’s fingers circled your sweet nub and then delved into your womanhood.

Thorin kissed your neck as he began a rhythmic movement inside you.

You clutched his shoulders, feeling the waves begin to ascend. That all too familiar sensation of wanting to get as high as you could to feel that powerful burst. His name fell off your lips, feeling so right and such an integral part of your soul.

“My love,” he whispered in your ear. He kissed down your cheek, wanting you to feel his love radiating through his hands to you.

“Stop,” you told him, pulling his hand away. “I want you.”

Thorin swallowed deeply and felt a sliver of arousal shoot down his spine upon your words. He’d imagined this so many times over the last few months, unable to let the fantasy go. The elation in his chest made him smile at you.

His smile was the most beautiful sight to behold. “I love you,” you told him.

You kissed again, and this time, Thorin took your hands in his while his member rested between your legs.

That intense pulsing was beckoning him in, wanting him to ride you towards heaven. You nudged yourself forwards, reassuring Thorin that this was all you wanted in those moments.

As you joined, you groaned into his neck and wrapped your legs around his waist. You remembered Darkness’ words about you ovulating. And as Thorin rocked against you, you saw a vision flash before your eyes. It was you in a wedding gown, with a circlet upon your head. The circlet matched the design of Thorin’s crown. Your gown was midnight blue, matching Thorin’s signature colour of choice. And there, beneath your resting hands, on your stomach, was a bump. This was the future you wanted, you needed, and which was destined.

You and Thorin continued your thrusts against each other, wanting to reach the pinnacle of physical pleasure together, and topple off hand in hand, hopefully creating that precious life you had just envisioned.

The waves of euphoria kept on building as Thorin maintained his rhythm, until the final wave crashed out, pouring heat and electricity outward from the pit of your stomach.

Thorin felt you shake and contract around him, and your moans of pleasure caused his peak to also come. He kept his lips against yours, groaning into the kiss.

Panting, the two of you embraced as Thorin withdrew from you.

Thorin didn’t have to keep reminding you of being a queen, you already knew that in your heart. All that mattered was you knowing that he loved you far more than anything else in his life.

***

The defeated Lord of Darkness sat upon his throne, a mirror in his hand. He had watched the whole spectacle unfold before his eyes; you had given yourself to the Dwarf King of Erebor, and there had been no persuasion on his part. Everything had been so freely given.

Darkness had already kicked one goblin across the room, as one gawked over his shoulder, enjoying the show inside the mirror. He enjoyed it so much that he had started masturbating behind the throne, hiding away so his master couldn’t see him.

“You cannot outrun me,” Darkness growled, watching as you and Thorin lay together in each other’s arms. “I can wait and when the times comes, I will strike again.

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The Hobbit: @flowerniche @kryshopes

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middleearthpixie · 1 month

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The Ties That Bind ~ Chapter Four

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

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

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

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Eirlys of Mirkwood

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.8k

Read on AO3

Sunlight streamed in through the canopy and bounced across the bed to hit Thorin square in the face, waking him far earlier than he wished to be woken. He regretted opening his eyes as soon as he did so, and brought up a hand to shade them as he rolled onto his side to offer his back to the offending light.

His bed was soft and comfortable, he was cozy and snug beneath smooth linens and warm quilts. But despite the comfort and coziness, Thorin’s mood wasn't a good one. He’d hoped that the previous evening would have ended with him realizing what a mistake he’d made in fighting Dís about marrying Princess Eirlys.

However, after having met her, he was convinced their union would be doomed from the start. He’d expected her to be demure and reserved, to by shy and blush when she met his gaze.

In short, he’d expected her to be a very different person from the one she was in actuality.

Perhaps it was foolish of him to assume how she would behave. After all, her father was not the most diplomatic of men, so why should she be? He was a fool to think she was anything other than the brash, lippy woman who seemed to speak her mind without hesitation.

Going back to sleep was impossible. His mind whirled too much for him to even attempt to sleep. So, with a sigh of irritation, he kicked back the linens and sat up, then slid to the edge of the bed to rise.

The room was chilly, biting into his bared skin as he stood, then padded to his trunk, where he pulled out fresh small clothes, trousers, and a heavy dark gray henley. He was just buttoning his trousers when there came a knock at the door.

“Who goes?”

“It’s me, Thorin.”

His henley in his hand, he padded across the room to pull open the door. “Dís? What’re you doing up at this hour?”

“Same as you, I’d imagine. The sunlight doesn’t often stream into my chambers back home.”

He smiled despite his heavy mood. “You would be correct. I don't even know what time it is.”

“Not even seven, I think. May I come in?”

He stepped aside. “Of course.”

She swept by him and as he tugged the henley over his head, she said, “Last eve did not quite go how we thought it might, did it?”

“And how did you think it would go?”

“Well, I thought the princess would come back out onto the dance floor.”

He emerged from the neck hole of his shirt, frowning as he moved to lace the front. “Why? Dís, I think you expect too much, too quickly.”

“Well, she certainly didn't look happy when she left the great hall.” She offered up a long look. “Why might that be?”

“Why are you asking me? I assure you, I had nothing to do with it.”

“Thorin.”

“What?” He shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“She seemed all too happy to let me step in.”

“As I said,” he sank onto the edge of the bed to tug on his hose, and then boots, “you expect too much, too quickly. She is no happier about this marriage than I am.”

“Well, with the way you brood, I can hardly fault her.”

He looked up. “What is that supposed to mean? Dís, I don't know this woman. And yet you think what? We should have been sneaking off to find a darkened corner?”

She gave him a long look, then rolled her eyes. “There is a happy medium, you know. Something in between mortal enemies and aroused lovers.”

“There is no happy medium, as there is nothing there at all. I’ve only just met her, remember.” He finished tugging on his first boot, then reached for the second boot. “I know her name and that she says what she thinks and not much else.”

“Oh, from your tone, I gather you do not like what she thinks?”

“I do not care for what she thinks, no.”

“And what does she think?”

He didn't answer, but finished pulling on his boot, then rose. Dís stared balefully up at him, arms folded across her chest. “Thorin? What did she say that was so unacceptable to you?”

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“Thorin.”

“No, Dís. This was a terrible idea and we should not have come here. I should never have agreed to this and I am sorry that I did.”

With that, he turned and thumped out onto the terrace, where he braced his hands upon the railing and drew in a deep lungful of crisp, wintry air. There was no way to explain to his sister what an ass he’d made of himself by allowing himself to be overheard by Eirlys.

But Dís, being Dís, did not take the hint and followed him out, wrapping her arms tightly about herself. “Thorin, what happened?”

He ignored her, staring out at the trees and foliage, all dusted with a layer of snow. Snow sparkled across the forest floor, where a path wound away from his terrace, and into the woods. Perhaps a walk through those woods would do him good, would help clear his head some, for he rarely had a chance to be alone in Erebor and even when he did, completely getting away from everyone often proved difficult, as it meant either crossing the plains to Dale, or going up behind the mountain, where Ravenhill was, and while he didn't mind being in Dale, the latter was also to be avoided if at all possible.

“Thorin?” Her hand came to rest on his forearm. “What happened?”

“It’s none of your concern, little sister.” He slowly turned toward her. “So, let the matter drop.”

Her brow furrowed. “Did the princess insult you? Did Thranduíl?”

His irritation bubbled over and he snapped, “I told you to let the bloody matter drop, and I meant it! Now, if you’d not mind, I think I wish to be alone.”

He didn't wait for her to reply, nor did he think twice about the hurt that swept across her face, but instead swept past her to step down from the terrace and onto the path that wound deeper into the forest.

He didn't know where the path led to, but at that moment, he didn't much care. The last thing he wanted was yet another lecture from his sister. Dís meant well. She always meant well. But she always meddled and always overstepped and rarely realized it until he pointed it out. It aggravated him each time, but today he’d had enough.

The blanket of snow muffled his footsteps, muffled the sounds of the forest around him. Every now and again, white powder filtered down through the treetops and more than once, a snowy owl swept overhead or a deer bounded across the path. The woods were peaceful. Tranquil. Perfect for thinking.

However, the way the path wound up and down and around meant that it didn't take much or very long for him to lose his bearings. In his irritation at Dís, he’d forgotten that one simple rule in regards to Mirkwood—it could and did muddle one’s mind and toss their bearings if one failed to pay attention to their surroundings.

In short, he was lost.

A muttered oath rose to his lips as he turned about to first his left, than his right, only to see that everything looked the same. Each tree looked identical to the other, and so did the bushes and even the path looked odd. Snow began falling once more, and it didn't take long for his tracks to be obliterated by it. Still, he turned to try to follow the path back, only it seemed to him that it no longer ran in an east/west direction but now he felt as if he moved south. Or perhaps north. Without being able to see the sun, he had no idea which way was the right one.

Still, he plodded on. Snow fell more heavily now, the gray skies darker by the minute. The temperature dropped just as quickly, and since he wore only his clothes and no outer garments, the chill settled into his body until he shivered even as he moved.

How could it grow so dark when it was midmorning at the latest? He’d forgotten how Mirkwood could bend time until it meant nothing. Had forgotten how it liked to play games with one’s mind over all.

He wrapped his arms about himself as he stopped once more to look about. For all the good it did. If anything, he thought he might be even more lost now.

“Wonderful.”

Branches crackled around him. The hair along the back of his neck prickled. He whipped about to glare into the shadows. “Who goes?”

No response.

The wind picked up to whip through the treetops, sending even more snow swirling about him. He felt very much as if he’d gotten trapped inside a snow globe, only this was far more disorienting. His stomach roiled as if the ground rose and fell beneath his feet. Dizziness set it, slowly at first, but it took almost no time before the entire world seemed to spin around him.

He reached for something—anything—upon which to steady himself, but as he did, he stumbled. He swung out his hand to grasp whatever he could reach as his head spun with more force now and the terrible feeling that he was about to be sick surged through him.

The arrow came from nowhere. Whistled by the left side of his head, splitting the spindly tree around whose trunk he’d wrapped his hand. A sharp sting rose in its wake, along his cheek, grazing the top of his ear to knock the heavy silver ear cuff he wore to the ground with a soft tink.

He staggered back, reaching for the sword that he’d actually left in his chambers, and let out a loud oath as he realized he’d foolishly stormed off unarmed.

Another arrow split the air, only this time, he saw a flash of movement from the corner of his eye and as he turned, the flash became a person who, with a flick of a dagger blade, sent the arrow careening off to Thorin’s left.

“Are you mad or just a fool?”

He stared at Eirlys, who now stood before him, tucking a silver-bladed dagger back into its sheath. Unlike him, she was dressed for the wintry weather, in heavy-looking trousers and tunic and thick, fur-lined boots. Her white blonde hair had been drawn back into a heavy braid that fell to her hips and at the whistle of yet another arrow, she spun about with lightning-quick reflexes to knock it off its trajectory with the blade she’d just re-sheathed. Her movements were fluid and fast, as if she knew exactly where the next arrow would come from.

“Come with me.” She grabbed him by the wrist and jerked him forward, out of his stupor, dragging him behind her deeper into the forest. “We need to go. Now.”

“Where are you going?” He tried to tug his arm free, to tug her in the opposite direction, but her grip was like iron and not so easily broken. “The path is that way, isn’t it?”

“No.” She didn't look back at him, nor did she slow down. “It is this way and you were a terrific fool to go wandering off as if you know these lands. You’ve been here but twice and still haven’t learned, have you?”

That rankled him, as did her assessment of him as a fool, no matter how right she was. “I beg your pardon?”

“You are fortunate your sister knows you’re a dolt at times. One of those arrows might have found you, and then where would you be. Now, the guard has been dispatched and I am to bring you back to the palace, but if you’d rather die out here…”

Embarrassment seared him from head to toe. “Lead the way.”

“I thought I was.”

He fell silent, his gut churning as she led him back down a path that showed itself so clearly now, he couldn't believe he’d gotten lost and wandered so far away from it. He thought about tugging free of her grasp, but then thought better of it, knowing that if he did, the path would most likely vanish on him once more.

“You know where those arrows came from?”

“I do, I think.” The covered walkway came into view and Eirlys slowed her stride, then turned to face him. “Orcs have been testing our boundaries, coming a bit closer each time.”

He turned to look down the way they’d come. “Orcs? Here?”

“They’ve been growing bolder of late. It’s part of the reason my father is so eager to marry me off to you. He fears they’ll grow brazen enough to simply storm our borders and swarm the palace.” A hint of resignation crept into her voice. “And he will not allow me to face them, as Legolas does.”

“And you think you could do so?”

“Of course I could.” She gestured to the dagger still in her hand. “I’ve been trained with both bow and steel and am just as skilled as my brother.”

“That’s good to know,” he replied softly, carefully drawing his wrist from her grasp, “for then I will not have to worry about you being able to defend yourself, should the need ever arise.”

“As if you would worry.”

With that parting shot, she turned and started back toward the palace, as he called after her, “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

She stopped once more, slowly pivoting to meet his gaze again. “You would?”

“Of course I would.” He closed the distance between them. “I am not a monster, you know.”

“Well, of course you aren’t. To suggest otherwise would be silly.” She cast her gaze downward for a moment, but then brought it back to meet his. “But you don't want this marriage.”

As her eyes met his, he was temporarily lost for words, for he’d never seen eyes as blue as hers. And when he remembered was words were, he struggled to make his voice louder than a whisper, failing as he murmured, “It isn’t personal.”

“Even so…” She held his gaze.

“I would still not want to see any harm befall you, Princess.”

“Then it must ease your mind to know I’m quite capable of defending myself, as you said.”

He didn't say anything at first, but instead just gazed down at her as the maddest urge to curve his hand against her cheek, to see if her pale, smooth skin was as soft as it looked surged through him. Mirkwood casting its spell once again, no doubt, but the air crackled around them as she held his gaze, her eyes seemingly softer with each passing moment. His heartbeat sped up, but not in the same way as it had when he’d realized he’d gotten himself lost. No, this and the heat that seemed to swell within him had everything to do with the way she looked at him and with the sudden need to lean in and kiss her.

“There you are! Where did you find him, Princess Eirlys?”

Thorin started, but kept himself from leaping away from her as Dís came hurrying down the path toward them. A hint of color rose along Eirlys’ high cheekbones, but it was gone so quickly, he thought he must have imagined it.

“I found him on the northeastern border. Just as the orc pack found him.”

Dis’ eyes widened. “Orcs?”

Thorin sighed softly. “I was an idiot for wandering off the path as I did. I should have remained close. A mistake I’ll not repeat, I assure you.”

“I think you owe the princess a show of gratitude as well, Thorin, since she went after you.”

He nodded, turning to smile at Eirlys, whose eyes were no longer so soft. “I do thank you, Princess.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t do it again.”

With that, she turned and hurried off, leaving him there with a puzzled-looking Dís, who peered up at him. “Did something happen out there?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Only that she saved my sorry skin.”

“Really?”An impish smile accompanied her words. “Because I almost feel as if I’d interrupted a moment.”

“Well, worry not, because you did no such thing.” he told her, brushing by her. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am nearly frozen through and wish only go indoors and warm up by the fire.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” He strode back to his chambers, fighting to keep his mind from wandering back to that moment in the woods, when all he wanted was to kiss Eirlys of Mirkwood.

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

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#Richard Armitage #AU #The Hobbit #Thorin Fic #Thorin Oakenshield #Is it hot in here?#Hobbit Fic #Romance #Hobbit Fanfic #Thorin x OC #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

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wordbunch · 1 year

Text

The Hobbit re-read: favorites, thoughts and honorable mentions

thank u to my tumblr besties for encouraging me to rant abt this book for a little while, and brace yourselves for a LOOONG post; aka We're Going On An Adventure!

this quote abt Gandalf: "tales and adventures sprouted up all over the place wherever he went, in the most extraordinary fashion" like. THIS exactly is Gandalf to me ✨✨✨

the whole good-morninged sequence (as if he was selling buttons at the door! can you imagine! By belladonna tooks SON of all people!!!) 😱

"a cake or 2 would do him good after this fright" me too bilbo

"he had a horrible thought that the cakes might run short" me too bilbo 🍰

Gandalf constantly selling Bilbo's skills to the company and just hyping him up and believing in him all the time!!!! most excellent and audacious hobbit!!! 😎

"this was thorin's style... if he had been allowed he would probably have gone like this until he was out of breath" aka he is Dramatic and Important

"bilbo was getting excited and interested again so that he forgot to keep his mouth shut" how many times will i write ME TOO BILBO in this post

"THE EXPLANATION DID NOT SEEM TO EXPLAIN" 💯💯💯

gandalf: i found him in the dungeons of the necromancer; thorin: girl what were YOU doing at the necromancer's??? 🧐🧐🧐 gandalf: finding things out as usual O M G like what else would he be doing there 😚

bilbo constantly wishing he was back home as soon as he left

"off bilbo had to go before he could explain that he could not hoot even once like any kind of owl" yall this book has so many funny moments but like in a very chill humor way

the fact that one of the TROLLS is called WILLIAM 😂😂😂

"i am a good cook myself, and cook better than i cook" okay bilbo rizz 😏🔥

"they had not at all enjoyed lying there listening to the trolls making plans for roasting them" you don't say. i love this deadpan humor SO MUCH jrrt snapped

that whole beautiful iconic description of kind as summer elrond

"their clothes were mended as well as their bruises, their tempers, and their hopes" WHEN will i go to rivendell 😩

"there is nothing like looking if you want to find something" thorin life coach realness 👏🏼👏🏼

thoring gesturing at a miserable desolate land: these tRuLy hOspiTabLe moUnTaiNs 😍

then gandalf lit up his wand. oF coUrSe it wAs gaNdaLf, but they were too busy to ask how he got there. 4ever mood

he thought of himself frying bacon and eggs in his own kitchen ME TOO BIL- 🍳

"Gollum brought up memories of ages and ages and ages before, when he lived with his grandmother in a hole by a bank by a river" this kind of made me cry. it brings unexpected humanity to such an appalling character; kinda makes you want bilbo to spare him eventually

and the fact itself that bilbo felt so bad for him he decided to just leave him be

"you would have laughed (from a safe distance)" LOVE how JRRT puts random little comments addressed to the reader

gandalf just being like ok i gotta go do other things now. good luck besties. ✌🏼😚

beorn: what are you, a traveling circus? and he is actually right 🤪

"you have got to look after all these dwarves for me, gandalf laughed" and i cried

bilbo being like hmm how will i get down from this tree (except by falling)

bilbo's song while killing gigantic spiders "not very good...but you must remember he had to make it up himself in a very awkward moment"

the dwarves starting to respect him and bowing down until they FALL OVER is such a comical image to me

the whole alluring magic of the elvish feast in the forest which disappears when they get closer!! a whole fairytale mr tolkien!!! 😍

thranduil is a greedy b <3 and especially VERY fond of wine 🍷🍷🍷

"i will lock you all in again and you can sit there comfortably and think of a better plan" bilbo badass mode and we love to see it 💋

tolkien being like WELL u can laugh but you wouldn't have done any better if u were him. real.

when they're in dale i love the numerous references to "songs and stories of old" and all of them basically being a living legend and turning their stay in dale into a public holiday and spectacle

thorin is cocky af

/freeze frame/ "you are familiar with thorin's style on important occasions so i will not give you any more of it" its ok jrrt, let him be a drama queen 👑

bilbo when he takes some gold from smaug being like "this will show them!!!1!1" 😠😠

sassy bilbo strikes again with "did you expect me to trot back with the whole hoard of thror on my back? if there's any grumbling to be done i think i might have a say" GO OFF KING 👏🏼

i just rly love him okay, he stole my heart in this book like a real legitimate professional burglar that he is

"i am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly" etc. basically this whole exchange btw bilbo and smaug is pure gold (pun not intended) 🤫

talking birds that eavesdrop. enough said.

the descriptions of the arkenstone which make you actually want to have it too. genius. there could be no two such gems, even in so marvellous a hoard, even in all the world." 💎💎💎

the harps (untouched by the dragon who had a small interest in music).. WHY is this so funny to me

bilbo putting on some elvish DRIP and being like ✨✨ i feel magnificent ✨✨ (but probably look dumb 😩)

"this is the great chamber of thror" ok thorin the tour guide king

BARD MY KING i love one (1) man 🎯

bilbo being absolutely against any wars or battles and just wanting to go home BUT also being a sneaky lil shit who takes the arkenstone to bard and thranduil BUT also still not wanting to leave his dwarf buddies

when he gives them the gem "not without a shudder, not without a glance of longing" AHHH i want it!

ambiguous gandalf returning. always love to see it

"if you don't like my burglar, please don't damage him" 🙄 ffs thorin chill

"you are not making a very splendid figure as king" yes gandalf call him out

defeat seems "very uncomfortable, not to say distressing" to bilbo. we love.

the fact that he was just knocked out cold during the battle so thur we know very little abt what really happened?? jrrt genius writing hack. might use this one 🤔

fili and kili deserved a better sendoff than just mentioning that they died. come on.

thorin's last words and reconciliation w bilbo... PLEASE I WILL CRY until i throw up. "it has been more than any baggins deserves." "no! there is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly west. some courage and some wisdom blended in measure. if more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world."

i might still be crying

"tea is at 4 but any of you are welcome at any time" my heart... ❤️😭 Guess he's no longer scared of running out of cake

bilbo gifting thrandy a necklace as an apology for eating and drinking his stuff secretly, king shit 😉

bilbo having the absolute NERVE to say to ELVES "your lullaby would wake a drunken goblin". wig wig

he deadass borrowed a handkercheif from freaking ELROND 😳

bilbo arriving home to being presumed dead and his stuff literally being auctioned off

"it was a long time before he was in fact admitted to being alive again…" and sackville-bagginses having sm beef with that HAHAHA

he lost his reputation but he lived his best life so who's the winner here 😌😌😌

the closing lines "you are a very fine person, mr baggins, and i am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all" "thank goodness! said bilbo laughing."

like. THIS. literally embodies everything. he is just a little guy. just some smol person. BUT STILL had a say in how BIG things happened. BUT he remains happy to be just a smol simple person.

overall an incredibly fun read and it was way more genuinely FUNNY than i anticipated. bilbo is a whole mood. thorin is a diva. gandalf is there to start shit and hype up bilbo. jrrt with random author's notes throughout the book gives me life.

#the hobbit #jrr tolkien #tolkien #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #lotr #Bagginshield #fili and kili #Gandalf #Lotr #Lord of the rings #Lotr meta #Lotr shitpost #from my pocketses

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bluebellhairpin · 2 months

Note

Hey! It’s me again (your new fan of smth, anyway). I really enjoy your small posts and saw the one abt chatty mood so.

I see so many fandoms on your page. Do you maybe have a list of your personal loved characters, like your all time favourites?

If you don't wanna answer it's fine, I don’t want to burden you anyhow. I just felt like getting to know a writer that I like and who is a tad bit more active.

idk if you're prepared for the can of worms you've just opened, but considering you asked, I'll try not to hold back. I've got my top 5, plus a few honorable mentions - just for you <3

HONERABLE MENTIONS;

Levi Ackerman (Attack on Titan) - I had such a phase for a while (one that lasted about 25 fic oneshots). As with most, he was the reason I got into aot in the first place. The rest is history.

Poe Dameron (Star Wars) - Again, huge phase (14 fics long this time). What can I say, I really liked that spunky pilot.

Thorin Oakenshield (The Hobbit) - Proud owner of my longest fic series (both in word count length, and how long it's taken to write - I started it in hish school, and I've been out of school for four years now. smh.)

Kenny Ackerman (Attack on Titan) - Like nephew, like uncle. I just think he's sexy.

Number 5 spot is held by our one and only BMI hero - Taishiro Toyomitsu! (My Hero Academia) (art by @/fittsythesnail)

I just think he's neat LOL. He's so soft, and he makes me so happy - tbh he's such an underrated fave of mine. He'd make sure I was always well fed, not just full but full of good food - something I often lack. He's very loverboy coded to me <3

Number 4 spot is taken by - Ser Harwin Strong! (House of the Dragon) (art by me)

Harwin is running in circles in my mind right now. He's the only selfship I've got with such an intense storyline. idk if it's something you can get behind, but hey if not you might be by the time I'm finally able to write anything for him.

Number three is our commander - Erwin Smith! (Attack on Titan) (art by @/veggiebr0th + @/54prowl)

Erwin is probably the character that's truly stood on this list the longest. And hardest. I love him a lot. Probably too much. I definitely find writing for him fun, especially when it comes to darker, grittier themes.

The newest character on this list takes out spot Number 2, no doubt aided by how fresh the love is - Kyojuro Rengoku! (Demon Slayer) (art by @/fittsythesnail)

What can I say. He set my hear ablaze.

And our last spot, Number 1, is taken by the one and only - Arthur Morgan! (Red Dead Redemption 2)

I just love him so so so much. So much that I can never sit down and write anything I'm happy enough with to publish. I hate how I can't write anything for him, because that mean's I can't really enter the community - ik it's not the only way, but it's the way I know best. WHICH THEN MEANS I can't really make mutuals to talk to. ABOUT HIM. Honestly that might not be a bad thing, because I probably wouldn't shut up.

#nemo answers #justatypicalwizard <3 #levi ackerman #poe dameron #thorin oakenshield #kenny ackerman #taishiro toyomitsu #harwin strong #erwin smith #kyojuro rengoku #arthur morgan

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babe-bombadil · 10 months

Text

A Long-Lost Home

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

Written for @tolkienfamilyweek Day 3 - Extended Family

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,053

Read on AO3 or below

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fili’s words came out in a rush.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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linasofia · 2 years

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A Shooting Star

Part 3

Fandom: The Hobbit

Relationship: Thorin Oakenshield x OC Vega

Summary: Lady Vega loves to sneak out to Erebor’s rampart to study the night sky, but one night, an unexpected visitor joins her. It is the beginning of a story whose end only the stars can tell.

Warnings: none

A/N: This is the third part of this fic. You can find the previous parts here.

Balin read the edict in his hand and then met Thorin’s steadfast gaze.

”Thorin, are you certain of this? I agree with you, the ancient books are in need of restoration, but not many dwarves care for old tales about the stars these days.”

”They should, Balin,” Thorin growled. ”The tales are fascinating. Some of them actually tell our history—our legacy—both the good and the bad. And it’s done in a less heavy way than any of the dusty books I read with my tutor as a young boy.” He pointed at the thickest of them all; a book with a leather cover adorned with seven stars. ”Have you ever read this one, Balin?”

The prudent white-haired dwarf in front of him shook his head, and his long beard swayed.

”You—who have read more books than anyone I know—are not familiar with the true gems in the Royal Library?” A small mocking lingered in Thorin’s voice, but Balin chose to ignore it. Instead, he shifted tactics.

”Why are you suddenly so interested in our conservators’ works? Not only do you interfere with the planning, you interrupt their current work too. Master Kvasir will most certainly question your personal interest in these books.”

”Then let him come with his questions,” Thorin muttered, and the thought of the unpleasant—but highly skilled—Master Kvasir made his mood sour. ”I do not think I need to explain my motives to him, or anyone else.”

Balin raised a hand in defense. ”I do not mean to question your motives, I am merely asking out of curiosity.” Thorin glared at him, and Balin knew better than to keep pushing his old friend for a reason he was certain he would find out sooner or later anyway. ”Very well,” he stretched his back and folded the edict, ”we shall see it done.”

***

A paper scroll with the king’s wax seal was open and on full display on the dining table when Vega returned from her visit to the seamstress. Neither her father nor mother seemed to be home, and therefore she dared to read the letter without permission. Her father’s post was clearly not for her eyes, but she could not resist when she saw the royal blue ribbon next to the roll. Only members of the royal family were allowed to use that specific shade of blue, and it was easily recognizable. The letter contained an invitation to the welcome banquet upon Lord Dain’s arrival, something Vega had never attended before. Usually, the king’s cousin stayed for a couple of weeks at the time, and several feasts were held in the meantime—all meant to entertain the large entourage traveling with him. The invitation was for the whole family, and Vega wondered what her father would say of such an event. Especially now, when the news about the delayed building start for the new giant furnace was fresh in his mind. He had worked so long for this—an opportunity to double Erebor’s capacity—and due to a single error in the agreement, King Thorin refused to sign it. She stroked the letter, fully aware that the king did not write it himself, but her heart made a flip at the thought of potentially seeing him soon again. Thorin. She closed her eyes and summoned the picture of him from their last meeting on the rampart. A sigh fell from her trembling lips—he was so distracting.

Vega did not have to wait long for an answer to her question; her father brought up the topic during their family dinner the following evening. He was pleased to finally receive an invitation to the prestigious welcome banquet, a night reserved only for the kings’s closest circle. It was considered a great honor to be invited and it was said the king used to redraw that circle every year, depending on the performance of his advisors and negotiators. Vega’s father had always worked hard and finally, he was rewarded in a way he thought was fitting for an advisor with his reputation. He admitted the invitation arrived at the very last minute, but it was clear that he could overlook this minor mistake from the royal administration. As she listened to her father’s too-long explanation of his important work, her mind drifted, as it did so often recently, to the alluring sound of the king’s deep voice. She longed to hear him speak again, and a small seed of envy grew in her heart as she thought of how her father often spent hours in the king’s presence. Vega wished it was her. She knew her father sacrificed a lot for his work, but her silly heart kept whispering about another—more unrealistic—reason for the invitation. Ashamed of her ungrateful thought, she lowered her gaze and finished her meal in silence.

King Thorin’s cousin, Lord Dain of the Iron Hills, arrived at the front gate of Erebor on a misty afternoon when the grass was damp and the air smelled of wet soil. The red-bearded lord instantly pulled attention to himself by refusing to wait for the welcome committee; he simply marched directly to the royal wing and demanded to see his kin. Dain was not a man of small words or gestures; he was big, loud and with a fiery temper—just as his cousin. Nobody who saw Dain that afternoon doubted what he longed for the most after his journey; amber-colored ale, strong Dorwinion wine, and smoked meat in large portions.

The welcome banquet would be held the following evening, not in the main hall where a very large number of people could fit, but in a smaller hall, closer to the royal wing. As Vega stood by her mirror and watched the maid tie her corset on her back, she felt nervous. The thought of the king—Thorin—had kept her awake far longer than she intended, and when she woke in the morning, she had dark shadows under her eyes. But her mother discreetly slipped her a small jar and told her to put the smooth content on the skin. Whatever miracle her mother had hidden in her drawer worked, and Vega now looked as if she had never slept better. Her hair was arranged in a festive creation, with only a few locks framing her face. The maid held up her gown and Vega easily slipped into it and patiently waited while the maid finished her work. Vega’s mother was a modest woman, despite their increasing status, but when it came to clothing on gatherings of this dignity, she was very specific in her demands. Lady Vanadis would never accept anything less than the best for her family. Vega had accepted it for evenings like this, as part of their new lifestyle, but she was not really comfortable with having someone else dress her.

When Vega entered the banquet hall, she tried to focus on her conversation with her mother, but her gaze expectantly searched among the many faces in the hall, and it did not take long before she spotted the real reason for the excitement she felt in her chest. The king was in deep conversation with his cousin, and among the guests next to him, she noticed both his nephews and the captain of the royal guards. King Thorin had not seen her, and it gave her the possibility to admire him from a distance. Vega put on a kind smile, mingled with advisors and their families, was greeted by people she dreaded she would never be able to remember the name of, and gave polite hugs to a few daughters in her father’s small circle of friends.

Massive tables stood head to head, creating long aisles between them and at the end—the table of honor—reserved for King Thorin, members of the royal family, and a large number of the king’s legendary company. Food and beverages were carried from the kitchen by an endless stream of servants, and no plates remained empty for long. The wealth of Erebor was flaunted—a reminder of the enormous treasure safely secured deep in the Mountain. Vega secured a good seat for herself, far from the king, obviously, but she could spot him if she leaned back a little. She was accompanied by a merry group of women, who—unlike her—found banquets and balls a perfect opportunity to see what was on the exclusive market, as they unashamedly called it.

Dinner lasted—as always, under the Mountain—for many hours. Vega’s mother was seated next to her father at another table and Lady Vanadis had insisted on Vega being allowed to choose her own place instead of the awful suggestion her father had; next to the son of one of King Thorin’s top negotiators. The son went in his father’s footsteps and had already made a name for himself. Privately, his reputation was far from pleasant; he was an unpredictable snake; he would always smile but hide a dagger behind his back, ready to threaten or even stab if he found it necessary. Vega assumed her father had no knowledge of the rumors surrounding the young lord, but she was relieved she did not have to endure yet another dinner in the company of a potential suitor. Even though she was a grown woman, her father still tried to steer her in the direction he thought was suitable.

As the endless servings finally ebbed, dwarves from all tables rose to stretch their full bellies, exchange words with new acquaintances, or just refill their pints from the large barrels waiting along one of the walls. Even though her company was far more enjoyable than she first expected, Vega still felt the need to be alone for a short while. A break, a chance to breathe without the constant chatter in her ears, would do her good. She excused herself and walked, without even a glance over her shoulder, out from the banquet hall.

The huge corridor held a more pleasant temperature, and the air was not filled with the heavy smell of roasted meat and ale. She took a deep breath and let her shoulders relax. A few moments were all she needed; nobody would know or miss her. Especially not her parents—or the very occupied king. She was not even sure he had seen her. But what had she been expecting? That he would come and sweep her off her feet, like the hero in that book she loved to read as a young girl? Or ask her to join him at his table, in front of his kin and friends? Vega sighed—it was ridiculous.

Dain was just telling Thorin about some recent raid of orcs near the Iron Hills when Thorin suddenly witnessed Vega rising from her table and walking out of the hall. It took him only a blink of an eye to decide, but he quickly got on his feet, muttering a few words to Dain about his needs after the many pints they had been drinking. His cousin let out a rumbling laugh and turned his drunken focus to Fili, seated on his other side. Thorin had seen Vega the moment she entered the hall together with Lord Vimar and his wife, but since his advisor was seated separately from his daughter, Thorin found no excuse good enough to approach her. Now, however, he saw an opportunity too good to miss.

He used the side door—the shortcut to the royal wing—but it gave him the possibility to leave the room without raising questions. If he hurried, he could make it to the other side, catch a glimpse of where she was going and eventually make her aware of his presence. He hastened, in a very unkingly manner, down the corridor, and just as he predicted, he saw her as soon as he turned around the corner. Thorin had to force himself to slow down; it would not make a good impression if he came storming after her. Vega had stopped by the large tapestry hanging to the left of the entrance to the hall. It was a beautiful piece—created to impress—and welcome guests to his kingdom. She must have heard him, because she turned when he came closer and the expression on her face made his heart sing. Thorin stopped at a respectable distance, suddenly uncertain if his presence would make her uncomfortable. They were alone for the moment, but a large group of dwarves were laughing and singing on the other side of the colossal stone wall. He tried to make up a reason for his sudden appearance, but as her beautiful emerald eyes widened in surprise, he found none. At least not one he could tell her. Not here. Maybe never.

Vega did not believe her eyes when she saw who was approaching her from an unexpected direction. As the king stopped in front of her, she curtsied gracefully—deeply affected by the powerful aura surrounding him. His dark hair resembled the night sky, with the light from a hundred tiny shooting stars creating the silver strands in his thick mane. His temple braids were recently braided, and his beard was trimmed to perfection. The black tunic was generously embroidered with thick golden threads, and a sharp line of gorgeous dark chest hair peeked up from the open collar. Vega swallowed hard at the sight and forced herself to meet the king’s azure gaze. The raven crown rested on his head, and Vega could not remember seeing Thorin more regal than at this moment.

“Lady Vega.” His deep voice made her shiver. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.” A small smile danced over his lips, and Vega noticed how his upper lip twitched as he waited for her reply. Confused thoughts crossed her mind. Was it possible that she was right in her silly imagination; had the letter been sent to her father with the intention of bringing her to the banquet? Surely her mind was playing tricks on her again, just as it had done on the cold rampart.

“My father was very honored, My King. Thank you.”

“And how are you faring this evening? Would you rather be watching the stars?” The twinkle in his eyes brought a smile to Vega’s face.

“There will be other nights to study the sky.”

“And other full moons,” he added. Then he lowered his voice and leaned in ever so slightly, but it was enough to make Vega’s heart beat faster. “Together, I hope.”

“I hope so too,” she whispered, but as soon as the words fell from her lips, she realized she had allowed him to see too much of her feelings. But he smiled back at her, the same warm smile that kept her awake the previous night. And she could not help thinking that he was a thief—dressed like a king—for he had truly stolen her heart.

Thorin watched Vega as her eyes glimmered, and when the sweetest blush spread on her smooth cheeks, he wondered what path her thoughts took. Could it be him—did his presence affect her in any way? He could not ask her; it would be highly unseemly, but deep down, he hoped he was the reason for her delicious reaction. He knew he was older than her—maybe even too old—but she awoke a longing in him, a feeling he accepted years ago was never meant for him. His obligations to his people and the safety of his family had always been his highest priority, and he fulfilled both duties without even thinking of his own sacrifice. Vega, however, was shaking the pillars he was standing on. His inner vault was trembling.

“I bring news which I hope you will find interesting.” He grasped a sensible reason to stay with her for a little while longer.

“My King?”

”Please, Thorin for now.”

Vega smiled apologetically but nodded. It was easier to try to think of him as only Thorin when he was not wearing the legendary crown on his head.

“I made inquiries regarding the books in the Royal Library. There is a fine collection of old books with star maps and they are all to be restored. We cannot allow them to be neglected any longer, they are simply too valuable for future generations.”

“This is fantastic news!” He could hear the amazement in her voice. ”Thank you, for letting me know of this important work.”

Vega’s face lit up in the most beautiful smile, and Thorin wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her. The exquisite gown she was wearing made him slightly dizzy, as it offered him a delightful glimpse of her body's curves. She wore her hair up and it brought his attention to her exposed, delicate neck. Her skin appeared to shimmer, and it made Thorin think that Vega truly was a rare gem. One of a kind. If anyone could match the raw beauty of the Arkenstone, it was her.

”I am glad it brings you joy, Vega.”

He really meant it; Thorin thought as he stored the memory of her warm exclamation in his heart. She had reacted exactly how he wanted, and his satisfaction mingled with her joy, until he suddenly came to think of the reason behind their possibility to meet tonight. His cousin was probably already questioning everybody at their table where the King Under the Mountain was. Thorin would have preferred to stay in Vega’s company for a while longer, but he knew far too well what would happen if Dain spotted him with a beautiful, unmarried lady. He would never hear the end of it.

”Now, if you will please excuse me, I need to see if my cousin is still reasonable,” Thorin declared with a smirk. Dain’s drinking games were well–known, and he often challenged Dwalin to follow him. ”If I do not have the pleasure of speaking with you in private again, I wish you a good night.” He allowed himself to linger in her warm gaze one final time, but when he turned to leave, his boots felt unusually heavy. ”I will see you beneath the full moon, Vega.”

💙 If you like my writing, please consider spreading the love and reblogging.💙

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @bitter-sweet-farmgirl @kibleedibleedoo @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knittastically @quiall321 @medusas-hairband @fulltimecrazy @s0ftd3m0n @emrfangirl @glimmering-darling-dolly @lilith15000 @clumsy-wonderland @theawkwardbutterfly @exhausted-humxn-being @beenthroughalot @chaikittie @piscesvancouverite @sotwk

#thorin oakenshield #thorin #the hobbit #thorin x oc #erebor #richard armitage #fanfic #thorin fic #thorin fanfic #pining #the hobbit fanfic #a shooting star

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gulnarsultan · 2 years

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》 Where the fate is sealed 《

You had decided to join Thorin and his friends in their quest to reclaim their home. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that you have just arrived in Middle-earth. The Ancient Fairy race had moved from Middle-earth and migrated to other lands. However, since you were the only one left of your relatives, you decided to come back. You didn't understand why the dwarves, especially Thorin, were so angry when you arrived in the Rift Valley. Honestly, your blood boiled over them for treating you like family after they trusted you. The dwarves said that a threat was coming, and put you in the middle of the circle. Meanwhile, Lord Elrond, who had returned from the expedition, had seen the intruders. However, when he saw the beautiful woman in the center of the dwarf circle, he thought his heart had stopped. Moreover, her beautiful wings made her think that she was an angel.After Lord Elrond and Gandalf greet you, you decided to wander around the garden until it was time for dinner. When the dwarves were causing chaos at dinner, you easily managed to calm them down.

"Please guys. Calm down."

The soft tone of your voice made the dwarves sit down. With your magic, you cleared the mess in a few seconds. After the meal, while watching the sunset, you had a good idea. You spread your beautiful wings and reflected the rays of the sunset through them. One of the lucky elves to see this sight of light was Lord Elrond. He had taken from Gandalf all the knowledge he knew about you. Although Gandalf understood what his old friend was up to, he ignored it. By the time it was time to leave, you had good conversations and friendships with Lord Elrond and the other elves. On the day of your departure, Lord Elrond was visibly in a very bad mood. You were confused when Lord Elrond asked to have a few minutes of private conversation with you. It would be a great lie if you said that you were not ashamed when Lord Elrond revealed his feelings to you. In fact, his demeanor and speech attracted you to him. You promised Lord Elrond that you would visit him after this war was over. After you left for your adventure, the idea of Lord Elrond remained with you. After your adventure was over, you returned to the Rift Valley. A few months went by too quickly for you and Lord Elrond. Lord Elrond has been watching your sleeping form at night, knowing that it would be time for you to go. He brought up this issue while he was having breakfast with you one morning. Lord Elrond had taken you by surprise when he knelt down before you to propose. Lord Elrond had already prepared his excuses to keep you from going if you said no. You didn't know you were sealing your life with Lord Elrond when you said yes. Yandere Elrond's tendencies were hard to spot. But her inclinations betrayed her not letting you leave Rift Valley and the way some men acted when they got too close to you. A little more than seventy years of marriage had taught you that it was better to accept the conduct of your husband, Elrond. After all, it was an inevitable fact that his patience and tolerance had limits.

#yandere elrond #yandere elrond x reader #elrond peredhel #yandere lord of the rings #yandere lotr #yandere character #yandere concept #yandere hobbit x reader #yandere hobbit #yandere the hobbit #yandere silmarillion #yandere silmarillion x reader

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mithrilhearts · 2 years

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I am so excited to share a bit more of this fic - you’ve read the plot bunny from back in the summer, but now I can cross one of those off of my list!! (Once I finish, we’re almost there!) In a WEEK the Hobbit Collab will launch and you can see the amazing collab I’ve gotten to do with @consultingpacha!

→ Plot Bunny

Here’s a little sneak peek from “The Night We Met”, which will fully launch on Dec. 6th!

“I have to get back to the vegetables, but if you need anything–”

“Yes, I’ll holler,” Thorin insisted as he cut Bilbo off, watching the hobbit’s face visibly wilt. Swallowing thickly and feeling a tug on his tunic, Thorin glanced down towards his nephews who gave him that stern look that Dis often wore if he stepped out of line. It was a gentle little reminder to try to make light of the moment–something his sister insisted on time and time again. “Thank you, Mister Baggins. We appreciate the hospitality.” Thorin even forced the corners of his mouth upward.

Wouldn’t Dis be proud?

That seemed to brighten Bilbo’s mood. His pointed ears nearly stood straight towards the sky. “Of course!” At least Thorin didn’t seem to hate this arrangement entirely, and perhaps the dwarf was growing more comfortable now that rain wasn’t dumping on his head constantly. Whatever it was, Bilbo took a little pride in it as he exited the washroom, not quite closing the door, but giving the dwarves their privacy and returning to his duties as proper host and tending to the food.

“Uncle? Are you okay?” Fili asked, flinging his tunic aside and picking off his socks before pulling at Kili’s.

“I’m fine, Fili. This is all just very…”

“Strange?” Fili’s big blue eyes stared up at Thorin’s own, a frown on those tiny lips, only to be accompanied by Kili’s wide-eyed stare.

“What’s…strange?” Kili stammered, struggling to get his voice around the words. “Is it bad?”

“It’s not bad, just different, now let’s get you two washed up, you look like you’ve been rolling in the dirt.” Poking at Fili’s bare belly and Kili’s side, earning squeals and giggles from the young pebbles, Thorin was happier to distract them than to dive into his uncertainty. Even if it meant he got another dose of being soaked–but at least this time it was by lavender scented soaps and bath water versus the rain from outside.

#the hobbit #bagginshield #thilbo #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #fili #kili #tuesday teaser #raz wips #fic: the night we met

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 1 year

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To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 14

OK SO APPARENTLY I MISSED POSTING LAST WEEKS CHAPTER??? I mean I was panicking about going on holiday, BUT STILL?? THE FACT THAT I DIDN'T EVEN REALISE. Guys if I don't post feel free to ask me why because 9/10 times it's my dumb adhd ass forgetting cuz she's stressed. But on the bright side - I GOT INTO UNIVERSITY!!! So I'm in a very good mood rn and managed to write this entire chapter in less than an hour. It hasn't been proofread, but I'm gonna have to do that another time. Enjoy! <3

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1732

Warnings: Mentions of Minor and Major Injuries from last chapter.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

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< Chapter 13 // Chapter 14 // Chapter 15 >

Part 2: Chapter 14 -

Thanks, I hate it.

Skreigh (Definition): To utter a harsh abrupt scream (Noun / Origin: Gaelic / Sk·r·ay)

Eventually, Kay lifted her head up. Her grey eyes were rimmed by a crimson red as they blinked up as the two of us, and if you looked closely, you could see a tremble in her hands as they came up to wipe at her face.

Bilbo immediately sped into action, marching over to the bed and swiping the second blanket that laid at the end. Shaking it out of its folds, he draped it over Kay’s shoulders, and I handed over her tea, making sure that the shaking in her limbs didn’t spill the hot liquid down her front. Taking a small sip, she let out a shaky sigh.

“Are you okay?”

Bilbo was the first to break the silence with his question, kneeling down in front of my friend, looking at her with both concern and slight fear.

Kay nodded. Bilbo got up, murmuring something about food helping before he left for what was probably the kitchen. I waited a second before speaking.

“That was so scary.” I whispered, too shocked about the ordeal to take note of my volume.

“I’m fine, really.” Kay croaked, taking another sip of tea.

“Kay, I thought you were dying.” I protested, “What happened?”

She opened her mouth, taking a few seconds to get the words out.

“I wanted to tell Bilbo about where we came from, where our home is and–” She welled up, taking deep breaths to calm herself down as I waited patiently in silence. “My head just started to hurt. Like, worse than the concussion, as if someone stuck knives in both sides of my brain and shimmied them around. And then… I tried again to say something out loud and my throat just closed up.”

I shuffled over next to her, and she leant on me, resting her head on my shoulder as she cradled the tea in her hand.

“I guess I also thought I was dying.”

I tensed up at her words, now scared about what would happen to me if I tried to do anything similar, whilst simultaneously being scared for Kay. Though I was brought back out of my thoughts at the sound of her voice again.

“–It was as if something didn’t want me saying anything.”

I felt the hairs on my neck stand up at those words, and I suddenly got the god-awful feeling – you know – the one where you feel like you’re being watched. But I knew that surely, we couldn’t be, since the only door was closed and the curtains drawn. But that attempted reassurance did nothing to stifle the uneasy sensation that grazed itself along the back of my neck and down the sides of my arms.

“Maybe that something doesn’t want people finding out about us?” I suggested to try and reassure Kay, and also distract myself from that weird feeling. “It could be to protect us.”

“Protect us from what?” She whispered nervously.

“Perhaps from those who… want to use our knowledge to cause harm?”

I felt Kay’s head shift on my shoulder slightly, and I could see the way her brows furrowed in confusion.

“What knowledge? Half the stuff we know is too advanced for them. Like, not to brag, but A-Level Sciences are something they’re a long while away from understanding.”

I nodded in agreement, feeling a small smile appear on my face at the thought of being the smarter one for once. Though all those thoughts were washed away as an answer to Kay’s question came to mind.

“Maybe… knowledge of what is to come?”

Kay froze.

“Shit. You’re right.” She hissed.

A beat passed as more thoughts invaded my mind. One stood out, and I quickly shuffled to sit opposite Kay, facing her.

“We need to find out what day it is.” I blurted.

“Day? I heard Bilbo say what day it was earlier, but it was a weird word…” She mentioned, scratching at her head in thought.

“Can you remember what it was?” I asked, the desperation in my voice crawling through.

“I’m pretty sure it began with an M?” She replied.

I immediately racked my brain, sifting through all the obscure Middle Earth facts I had read over the years. I knew that the Shire had its own calendar, including days of the week. They were the same as our days of the week, but some days had a different name. From what I could recall, Sunday and Monday remained the same, and I could easily remember that Tuesday was Trewsday, due to them both sounding so similar, but the rest were still tucked away, hidden in the confines of my mind that only resurfaced once in a blue moon, and believe me, it is as frustrating as it sounds.

“Mer-something?” She added.

“Mersday!” I half yelled. “I think that means Thursday?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” She said confused.

I fiddled with the corner of the blanket that was draped over Kay, then twisted towards the door.

“BILBO?!”

A crash was heard, then the rapid slapping of feet on wood, before Bilbo rounded the corner with frantic eyes.

“Yes?!” he gasped.

“What’s the date?” I asked with a smile.

He paused, a deadpan look on his face as he realised no one was dying again, and he straightened up with a heave, in an attempt to retrieve his breath.

“Date?”

We both nodded with a grin, and with an unamused sigh, he answered.

“It’s Mersday, the twenty-ninth of September, if you must know.” He huffed with a shrug, slapping his hands on his legs. “Any other obscure things you wish to know, after almost dying for no reason?”

The two of us looked at each other, and he rolled his eyes with a groan.

“Yes, what?” He asked sarcastically.

“The year?” I said.

He gave us a strange look, as he has done every time we did something out of the ordinary over the last couple days.

“Twentyyy… nine, thirty nine.” He answered slowly.

“Thirty-nine?” I repeated.

“Y-yes.” He said exasperated.

“Ok,” I said as I did the math in my head, before looking back up at Bilbo. “Thank you.”

He nodded slowly, a little unsure about what just went on in the last few minutes, and began turning back towards the door.

“That’s no problem. I’m gonna… make myself a cup of…” He pointed awkwardly at the doorway, “Chamomile. Yep. Chamo – Goodnight.”

He disappeared promptly, and I twisted back towards Kay.

“So it seems that we’re a little early.” I whispered.

“For the…” She made a walking motion with her fingers.

“Journey, yes.” I nodded. “A whole 20 months before Gandalf shows up, if I’m correct.”

Kay grunted in frustration, most likely at the thought of waiting for an entire year and eight months for Gandalf to commence O.D.R – Operation Dwarf Rave, in other words. Or Bag End’s demise, if you will.

Stifling a yawn, I lifted Kay’s arm up to squint at the time on her Hello Kitty watch she had retrieved from her suitcase earlier, to see it was almost midnight. I got to my feet and shuffled over to the door.

“Right, I’m gonna head to bed and attempt to rid my brain of the image of you dying. And you’re gonna sleep until you’re fully energised after all –” I gestured at her, “–that.”

She nodded in agreement, and flopped onto her bed, wrapping her arms around her teddy.

“And no talking about our world.” I said in a mocking strict voice.

Kay rolled her eyes at me, and I ducked through the doorway as a pillow flew in my direction. I yelled goodnight as I made my way back through the house to my room, extinguishing the low burning candles on my way, allowing the darkness to follow me until I reached the glow of Bilbo’s room, who was already watching the doorway as my footsteps neared.

“Is she alright now?” he asked, a slight undertone of worry in his voice.

I nodded. “Yea she’s gone to bed. Still a little shaky, but she’s managed to calm down.”

“Ok.” He said, reassuring himself with a nod, before looking back up at me. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I smiled as we both bid each other goodnight, and I carried on down the hallway. Ducking under the last archway, I finally made it to my room and closed the door behind me. Taking the last lit candle, I placed it on my bedside as I changed out of my clothes into one of Bilbo’s nightgowns, which acted as more of a shirt for me. Shuffling under the covers, I turned around towards the headboard. Manoeuvring the pillows around, I took some and scrunched them in an out in an attempt to fluff them up. Placing the final one down with a pat, I kept my body facing the head of the bed as a leant over to the candle. Opening my mouth slightly, I prepared to blow out the flame, only to halt in my tracks.

I felt myself freeze in place at the sound of a rustle within the room. Moving only my eyes to the left, I stared in the direction of the noise, which sounded like something heavy being knocked around. It was soon silent again, only the sound of the wind and the faint hoot of a distant owl from outside, along with the roaring of blood from my rapidly beating heart, could be heard.

Slowly but surely, I turned my head, until I was finally able to see the entirety of the dimly lit room. Staring with wide eyes, my sight fell upon the wardrobe in the corner.

Whilst being half the size of my one at home, it was still large enough to hide someone, which was exactly what I was panicking about. As silently as I could, I slipped off the bed, candlestick in hand, along with the small stool from another corner, and I crept towards the tall piece of furniture.

Now, I understand that in horror films, this is exactly how someone gets killed, but I needed my sleep, and I wasn’t going to let some hobbit burglar that wasn’t Bilbo take that away from me.

Pointing the stool legs towards the doors, I placed the candle on the chest of drawers next to the wardrobe, and slowly stretched out my hand.

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

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thekingofwinterblog · 7 months

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The fundamental differences between Martin and Tolkien

What separates the works of Martin and Tolkien?

Both created vast, sprawling worlds, good, strong characters, and detailed histories.

Both are Gardner style writers, of a perfectionist bent, but whereas Martin wanted a world where you never could be fully certain about anything of the past, Tolkien created a timeline so deep and well constructed that there is only one single mistake that has to be chalked up to bad in universe sources(a couple of dates during Bilbo's journeys).

Tolkien focused on creating a mythology, whereas Martin wanted a fantasy world that put a lot more emphasis on the nitty gritty.

They have a lot of differences and overlaps, and Martin is the first to tell you that his own works in created very much as a response to what he saw as flaws in Tolkiens works.

Some of these do raise some interesting questions, while others showcases that Martin's thoughts on Tolkien for good or ill formed and crystalized very early in life, and he's never really delved deep enough into the lore that many others have, else he would know the answers to a lot of the questions he asks(For example, we actually know way more avout the constitutional limits of Aragoen's power as a king than we do the legal limits of any kings of Martin's).

This is not to just throw shade at Martin as not "Getting" Tolkien, but that very much comes back to the big, big differences between them, because Martin very did not, and does not get Tolkien's ultimate philosophy.

Martin's biggest Philosophy as a writer is the phrase; "The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself".

This is not a bad philosophy as a writer. A lot of the best works of man is very about this, one single consept.

But it's not a be all, end all to story telling. Many great stories have been told about characters who's desires were very much NOT in conclift with itself.

A lot of Tolkien's stories is about this consept, but not all of his characters were. Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo, Sam, Smeagol and Boromir would very much fit into this catagory, but Gandalf the grey would not, being a force of nature who serves as the big good in both the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.

Pretty much all of Gandalf's storybeats is about his limitations, and how it affects his mood and decision making, not the ethical questions thereoff.

And of course the most important Heroes in Tolkien's legendarium as far as Tolkien was concerned, Earendil, Beren and Luthien, do not fit this whatsoever. Their stories like Gandalf is about them seeking a goal, and how to reach it, the physical obstacles in their way, and how to overcome them, not any ethical dilemma they face on the journey.

And this in turn comes back to the biggest difference between the two of them.

For Tolkien had his own personal philosophy regarding what all stories worth telling are all about.

"Human stories are practically always about one thing, really, aren't they? Death. The inevitability of death."

"Nothing that ever happens to man is natural, since his presence calls the whole world into question. All men must die, but for every man his death is an accident, and even if he knows it he would sense to it an unjustifiable violation."

All men must die, and it is the reality of this that all actions people make is in response to.

Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim Erebor because duty demanded it, because if he did not, he and all his people who still remembered Erebor would die withouth ever seeing it again.

Beren was a mortal man, and so was doomed to die... But he eventually did as many men did, and fell in love, and like all who do, he wanted to spend his life with the person he loved. Meanwhile Luthien's story was about the fact that as an elf, she was not part of the cycle of death, but having to confront it head on, and feel what it was to lose the man she loved, she made a plea to to the Valar of death and so was able to enjoy life together with her love in exchange for giving up her immortality.

Gandalf is immortal, but the people around him who he loves dearly is not, and as everyone eventually dies, he is forced to find new companions again and again amongst the then younger generation.

Boromir was tasked with saving his people and country, with the very real reality that if he failed, he and all he loved would die, and this drove his actions for good or bad.

Bilbo, having finally settled into a standard hobbit lifestyle, still felt the pull to go out and seek something exciting in his life, and was given the choice of living comfortably until death claimed him in Hobbiton, or wheter to take a risk, and set out into the world on an adventure.

Meanwhile Tolkiens elves do not die natural death... But rather than this making them free from all such suffering, it instead just introduces other ills and challenges, having to either give up on the physical world, or fade away, with the forging of the rings of power being a mistake rooted in trying to stop their innevitable decay, so they can enjoy their immortality forever.

Meanwhile, all the societies Tolkien shows us, just as real life, imare built around the concept of the innevitability of death, and what we do in order to pass it on to the next generation after our death, and the consequences thereoff if we fail.

These ideas are not something Martin does not explore in great depths in his own way, just as Tolkien does not shy away from the human heart in conflict with itself, but it's not the rock upon which Martin bases all of his tales, the same way that the conflict of ones heart is not the basis of Tolkien's tales.

I would say neither is completely correct either. You can base a story about either concept as the core, or both, or neither, for there are other cores to structure a tale around that uses neither as the rock of the story.

#j r r tolkien #george r r martin #meta #philosophy #writing

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fizzyxcustard · 2 years

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Jealousy.

Masterlist of this series

Comments/Notes/Housekeeping: Thank you to everyone who reblogged and commented on my last of the RA Character Headcanon Series. I appreciate it very much. I know I sound like a broken record, but please do consider a reblog if you like a post, and if you wish to be added on to my tag lists, please let me know. You are also very welcome to request head canons as well, so I can continue on with this series and open it up to a lot more scenarios.

This head canon post was requested by @sunflwrnsunnieshine Thank you very much, hun. You're very welcome to request head canons with these 9 characters. Just send the request via my ask box, please. This instalment will focus on how all the characters handle jealousy, more precisely, jealousy which involves you, the reader. Enjoy!

GUY OF GISBORNE: Guy does not handle jealousy at all well when it comes to other men flirting with you. He makes his complete and utter distain known to the other man, and even becomes threatening. Most people are scared of Guy, so the men back off as soon as they see his icy glare from across a room. You know that Guy's jealousy comes from a place of insecurity, so you need to remind him regularly that you only have eyes for him.

RAY LEVINE: Ray Levine holds a lot of his emotions inward and will become distant with you if he feels there may be any kind of hint of another man sniffing around you. His answers become clipped and short, and it's up to you to question him thoroughly to see exactly why his mood has changed. However, when you reassure him that you're his, he apologises profusely.

FATHER LORENZO QUART: Father Quart is not a jealous man, but when it comes to you, jealousy is not something he is immune to. He holds it inward and tries his best to push the thoughts away as to not fall into bitterness. You notice his behaviour (of extra glances and sighs when the other man is in the room) and bring it up with him, and he admits that he did feel jealous and apologises, knowing he trusts you implicitly.

THORIN OAKENSHIELD: If Thorin sees another man making advances towards you, you immediately see a change in the Dwarf's demeanour. He becomes quite passive aggressive, giving short answers and appearing a little hostile. But when you get to the bottom of his negative feelings and reassure him with plenty of touch and love-filled words, he apologises to you. He is scared to lose you.

FRANCIS DOLARHYDE: Francis will watch you and the other man, not acting physically on his jealousy. However, he begins mentally plotting ways to harm the man, enjoying the thought of causing pain to him. Francis even admits to you that he had bad thoughts and considered violence, but then begs you to forgive him.

JOHN THORNTON: John Thornton becomes quiet and distant, backing off as soon as he feels in any way threatened by another man sniffing around you. The normally brooding man becomes even more cold toward you, hinting at his jealousy through hints in his words, mentioning the man in conversation. Eventually you sit him down and talk it through with him that nothing will ever happen between you and the other man.

RAYMOND DE MERVILLE: Raymond will not entertain the idea of another man serenading you. In fact, he is quite happy to threaten men and even become violent. Any man who only looks at you for a few seconds too long and they're immediately found on the sharp end of Raymond's sword.

JOHN PORTER: John tries to down play his jealousy and won't talk about it, until you bring it up to him. If he notices you interacting with another man, he will distance himself a little, but you notice him still sneaking glances to see what's going on. Eventually you have to confront John and tell him that he's stupid to think you'd even consider any other man but him as you've fancied him for as long as you've known him.

LUCAS NORTH: Lucas doesn't like to show vulnerability at first, so his jealous behaviour will depend on how long you've been with him and the stage you're at in your relationship. Any initial stage, weeks to a couple of months, and Lucas will try his hardest to not think too much about it. However, the longer you are with him, then the more his jealousy will show. It becomes clipped words, the cold shoulder and icy stares at you and the other man from across a busy room.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @knittastically @guardianofrivendell @luna-xial @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @asgardianhobbit98 @meganlpie @eunoiaastralwings @sunflwrnsunnieshine @tschrist1 @quiall321 @lemond57 @missihart23 @evenstaredits

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stoplookingupforheaven · 2 years

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rain liveblogs the hobbit an unexpected journey but it’s just one post

NOT THE SPOONS

thirteen men barging into my home unexpectedly? yeah this was written by a man

WAIT WAIT IS THIS WHOLE THING THORIN’S MIDLIFE CRISIS???

far over the misty mountains remains unironically one of my favorite songs and this movie came out when i was eleven

not bilbo immediately handing the contract to balin and not thorin. power move

okay say what you will about this hobbit but he is advocating for himself!! yes u Do need that pocket handkerchief sir!

spooky scary storytime

every time i watch these battle scenes i just. imagine being at the back of one of these giant-ass armies. all full of adrenaline cause it’s combat, but you just gotta wait

i’m sorry but i just don’t Get thorin

“died of his wounds”

narrator: azog had not died of his wounds. azog was alive and well and tracking the dwarves

i just see hedgehogs now and i think norman

river plate fireworks going off in the background really set the mood for this movie

IS IT TROLL TIME I THINK ITS TROLL TIME

biLBO JUST LEAVE THE FOOD

oh my god bilbo just leave the scythe alone- EEEEEEEW

and then kili, in an act that would set the tone for his entire character arc, did something stupid

do- do any of the dwarves know what the word “parasite” means

i would be very interested to study the geology of stone troll

dwalin might be my favorite dwarf. he Always passes the vibe check

this movie refreshes my fear of spiders every time i watch

radagast brought the receipts

geologically, this route into rivendell does not work

thorin. grow up

“hidden pass” THATS NOT A LOGICAL LAND FEATURE

OH LOOK. ITS THE ORC. THE ONE WHO DIED OF HIS WOUNDS

it occurs to me that the bad blood between gandalf and saruman predates the sauron issue

EXCESSIVE CONSUMPTION OF MUSHROOMS??? can’t decide if it’s funnier if saruman is implying that radagast is constantly tripping or that an Actual vegetable is ruining him

i am an hour and forty-three minutes into this movie and i am Just now remembering that gollum, who arguably kick-starts the entire lord of the rings trilogy, is going to make an appearance

HOw in the motherfuck did bilbo hold onto sting when they just both went rocketing off a cliff

i gotta give the goblin king points for theatrics

WELL WELL WELL, LOOK WHO IT IS

“if baggins loses, we eats it whole” was delivered SO matter of factly

teeth…? TEEEEEEEEETH

paused the commentary to ice my shins but. goblin kingdom escape scene my beloved

andy serkis ate this role up

GANDALF’S EYE TWITCHING

the Zoom™ of shock when thorin sees azog

ah yes this is the best way to defeat the orcs. start a forest fire

thorin what in the fuckery

this is giving new meaning to the term “hot girl walk”

me every five seconds: i really wanna go to new zealand

i did forget thorin got a partial redemption arc in this movie

there better be a way down from their very convenient outcropping the eagles have dropped them on because like. the company can’t fly

YOU HAD TO SAY SOMETHING BILBO. YOU HAD TO SAY SOMETHING

overall lovely and now i really miss fifth grade. rain out

#i had a Lot more thoughts that i just didn’t manage to get in here #plus it was already so long #lotr #the hobbit #an unexpected journey #rain talks

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secrettyrant · 7 months

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CHAPTER 4

CHARACTER UPDATES

HOLLOW COVE

WOLF CROSS: Joining as many searches as possible while also trying to keep morale up and things running smoothly with his pack, i.e people's moods primarily. Wolf will be scatterbrained and probably very different to how people have seen him, perhaps resembling how he was when Josie was killed. Lots of angst to be had. Is for the revision of the 3 day grace period, and not pulling his weight that much around the town like he has previously. There will be some strain between Jones and Crosses at this time as Jackson and Wolf will clash with things to do with Jack and Sophia.

BEAU SULLIVAN: He's had a revamp! Is still somewhat similar to bitchboy!Beau but is back to his og roots now and is more of a rounded personality. He'll be going on searches for Teddy and Sophia. Is for the revision of the 3 day grace period. Has a few opinions about what happened with Jack that previously he kept quiet but is making them known now that he didn't agree with how it was handled. Lots of angst to be had if he's on a search with Crosses?

CARLO RAMOS: Will be doing whatever he can to look for missing Cross members but Carlo remains focused on searches for Cece and Amaris. He's a genuinely quiet person around people he isn't comfortable with still, so would be good to see him teamed up or doing something out of his comfort zone. For the revision of the 3 day grace period but he isn't about to get political, so he isn't vocal about it. Possible angst if he's got a lead on something to do with Amaris and Cece but is told to hang onto it and wait, and possible doesn't.

CALEB GRIFFIN: Will be primarily focused on searches for Kenzie and Alana and Kel at this time, and generally any Vaisman wolf. He's an easy going personality so he can be teamed up with anybody. He's probably busy around the town too. Doesn't think the 3 day grace period is a bad idea, is considerate of resources and manpower that could be wasted if it's any shorter.

EVERETT JONES: Is pretty much family focused always, and is more worried about Hazel and Bodie at this time than anything else due to Maren's return. He is also, obviously, worried and focused on finding Teddy and even, possibly, the Crosses. Which would be good development for him lol. Is against the revision of the 3 day grace period, and has plenty of reasons as to why but settles that it should be 2 instead.

BENJAMIN WALTON: Is more worried about what's happening with the Belcourt coven. Diplomatic as ever and is for the revision of the 3 day grace period. He's working frequently through the town and is easy going so any thread works for him. Is probably a little bit distracted because he's concerned about the situation with Felix.

THUNDER RIVER

THORIN JANSEN: Will be part of the escape so everything is pretty plot specific for him. Obviously hilarious if he has threads with non-Visser wolves. Chaos always? So, anything goes. But ultimately he will work hard to aid the escape plan.

STORR ALFFSON aka STOLL: Pretty much the same as Thorin minus Chaos. Storr is a great person to get on board the escape plan, he's very practical and steadfast. But anything goes for him too.

BRENDAN MURPHY: A little less chaotic than Thorin but more chaotic than Storr. Will be a team player for the escape, and helpful too as he's resourceful. Could do something that he's already got a hoard of supplies that are useful and trying to convince him to hand it over

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deadlymistletoe · 1 year

Text

Men and Flowers

Pairing: Dwalin x human!F!Reader

Genre: Angst/fluff

Description: Insecurities creep up on Dwalin when he sees you with a young, human man. How could you ever want a dwarf like him compared to that? Little does he know, there's only one person you want, and it’s not the human man.

Warnings: None

Word count: 2080

It started when Gandalf convinced the company to stop for supplies in a little human town on their way to the mountains.

Well, technically it started as soon as Gandalf introduced you to the company. He’d always thought that if he found his one it would be a darrowdam with a long, thick beard, but no. Instead he felt a warm rush of feelings he wouldn’t admit to having when you, a very beardless human lass smiled at him.

Thorin would never let him live it down if he found out.

So here he stood, with the other dwarves, watching as you spoke to a lad running a market stall filled with fresh fruit and flowers.

The humans weren’t used to seeing dwarves (or hobbits) in their town, so naturally, you had been chosen to do the shopping and communicate with the humans while Gandalf had disappeared off to who-knows-where yet again.

Dwalin could feel a frown creeping up on his face as you laughed at something the young man said. The man was around your age, he could tell, and he was everything a dwarf wasn’t.

His light brown hair was neat and tidy as it hung around his face, and he had less of a beard than Kili which was saying something. His face was scar and tattoo free, without any signs of living a hard life, and he clearly knew how to make a girl laugh.

You had lingered at the store longer than you needed to, admiring the bright flowers as the man chatted easily with you, and now Dwalin was scrutinizing things he wouldn’t have had you been anyone else.

The man certainly wasn’t bad looking when it came to humans, and Dwalin’s mood soured even more as you smiled, accepting a single periwinkle blue flower from the boy who was clearly trying to charm you-and succeeding.

Dwalin was knocked out of his brooding when someone nudged him in the side, and he turned to see Thorin looking at him knowingly.

“You're glaring. If looks could kill the lad would be dead ten times over.” Thorin’s voice was low, if slightly amused, to keep the others from hearing.

“Am I?” Dwalin muttered, glancing back at where you were slowly making your way back towards them.

“I don’t think you could be more obvious if you tried.” Dwalin sent a scowl at his friend for his offhand comment.

“Can’t you point out the obvious elsewhere then?”

All Dwalin received in reply was a shrug as Thorin moved away towards his nephews, most likely to break up their bickering before they began tussling on the ground in front of the humans.

That night Dwalin let out a quiet sigh as he leant back against the rock he sat by, his pipe in his hand as he took the first watch.

He knew it shouldn’t bother him, but his mind kept going back to your smile at the human man.

For the first time in his life, Dwalin was feeling something he’d never felt before; insecure.

Then again, since he met you, he’d been feeling a lot of things he’d never felt before. He’d never wanted to win someone's love and affections before.

In Erebor, and Ered Luin he was built like any other dwarf; stocky and strong with scars and tattoos that would only be admired. But it was different now. You were a human, so wouldn’t you prefer a human man? Someone tall enough to kiss the top of your head, without any scars or imperfections that other human women would frown upon.

And don’t even get him started on building a family. He didn’t even have a home, or a job. He couldn’t offer you any of the stability required to start a family, or even just make sure you had a safe, warm home to go back to every night. Besides, he was way too old for you being 169 while you were only in your twenties.

Surely a young human man, your own age, in a peaceful village with a stable job would be better suited to give you these things, to have a human family with.

Dwalin didn’t even have the resources to make you a courting bead, let alone gift you the jewels you deserve.

Dwalin winced, thinking back on how he’d treated you when you’d brought back the supplies. He’d been rash, still sour from seeing you with the young man, and given you nothing more than a displeased grunt when you tried to speak to him, brushing you off. And he’d still had a scowl on his face too.

He’d seen the hurt and confusion in your eyes before Fili and Kili had whisked you away to see what you’d bought. Even Thorin had given him a raised eyebrow once you were out of the way.

It had only given him a small bit of satisfaction when you’d handed the flower to a blushing Bilbo whom he knew you had no romantic interest in rather than keep it for yourself.

As he lay down on his bedroll (he noticed you’d put yours further from his than usual, and therefore closer to Thorin of all people) after waking Ori for his watch, he promised himself he’d make it up to you, whether he had a chance with you or not. The least he could do was have your friendship.

It was the next afternoon, when the company was setting up camp and you went to collect mushrooms from a small patch you’d seen earlier that Thorin nudged him.

At his questioning look, the king nodded towards where you’d disappeared into the forest. “She shouldn’t go alone. We don’t know what may be following us.”

Surprisingly, after the initial cold treatment, Thorin had warmed up to you. Maybe it was the dwarven instinct to be protective of their women as there were so few, but the king, and the rest of the company, had silently agreed to make sure you came out of this alive and as unscathed as possible.

Dwalin glanced at where you’d disappeared before picking up his axe and nodding, following your path into the forest, only pausing when a patch of delicate purple and white flowers caught his eye.

You hummed quietly as you crouched down on the forest floor, using your small dagger to carefully cut mushrooms from the patch growing and tuck them into the small bag that hung across your body. They would go nicely in the stew Bombour was going to cook that night.

You thought back to the previous day. It had been nice to stop in the town, seeing other people for a change. The dwarves and Bilbo had certainly grown on you, but they were all men and you hadn’t seen anyone else for a while, so it had been nice to see some other people, and the fresh groceries were worth it.

The only thing, or rather person, that confused you was Dwalin. When you’d first met, he was silent and said next to nothing, but you’d thought he’d been warming up to you.

He was happy to answer your questions, and even took the time to teach you to fight after the troll incident. He smiled at you sometimes, and you’d taken to sleeping not far from him, feeling safe with the warrior nearby.

You knew, if you’d been talking to a group of human girls like those you grew up with, you all would have been giggling over your crush. Because that’s what it was. A crush that was strengthening every day, and you were sure that by the end of the journey you would be fully in love with Dwalin, whether he cared or not.

But between visiting the town, and leaving it, something had changed. You weren’t ignorant. You had seen the glare he’d been giving you while you were at the final stall, and seen the scowl he’d been wearing when you’d tried to talk to him after and he brushed you off with an annoyed grunt.

He hadn’t talked to you since then, and the last night you’d even moved your bedroll away from him, lest he not want you near him and get annoyed.

You let out a harsh sigh as you put your dagger back in your boot and stood up.

“You sound frustrated.” You spun around, hand going towards the hunting knife strapped to your waist before you saw who had spoken.

Dwalin. You stiffened. “You startled me.”

The dwarf stood in front of you, leaning against a tree, axes strapped in place on his back. “That was not my intention. Thorin sent me to make sure you were alright.”

Well there went any hope he’d come because he wanted to. “Of course he did.” You headed for the path back to the camp, intent on ignoring him.

“Y/N.” You would have kept walking but a strong hand caught your arm, forcing you to stop. You huffed, refusing to look back at the dwarf.

There was a moment of silence, which you were about to break when Dwalin spoke. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you upset with me.”

You turned around, surprised. “Upset with you? I thought you were the one upset with me, although I can’t figure out why.”

The dwarf shook his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “I wasn’t upset with you. I had no good reason to be.”

You furrowed your brows, confused. “But you were glaring at me. At the market. And then you seemed annoyed.”

Dwalin looked surprised. “You noticed that?” Before you could speak he continued. “I wasn’t glaring at you. Not really.” You were about to ask just who he was glaring at then but he rushed on. “It was the lad. The young man serving you. He was flirting with you…”

You tilted your head. Yes, he’d been flirting with you, but you really weren’t interested. You much preferred a certain dwarf. “So?”

“So I was…” Dwalin broke off, looking to the ground. Flustered, you realized. “This is stupid.” He mumbled quietly.

He threw a bouquet of purple and white flowers you hadn’t realized he’d been holding behind his back to the ground at his feet.

You don’t know why it hit you then, but you blinked as you stared at the fallen flowers, realization washing over you.

“Were these for me?” You crouched down as you spoke, gently picking up the bouquet and brushing dirt off the petals. As you stood back up you noticed that the leather strip holding the stems together was the one Dwalin usually wore on his wrist, occasionally using it to hold his hair back.

You looked questionably at Dwalin who looked embarrassed as he watched you examine the flowers. “Like I said… It was stupid. I shouldn't have even hoped…” He paused, taking a breath. “You don’t have to say anything, lass. I get it.”

“Get what?” Did the warrior not realize he was making your wishes come true?

“You’re better off with that human man. He’s your own age, he’ll be able to give you a family… he’s not old, and scarred like me. You can’t tell me he’s not the ideal man every human woman in her right mind would hope to marry.”

You took a breath. You never thought you’d see this. Dwalin was insecure… because of a human man.

A rush of boldness hit you. “Then I guess I'm not in my right mind. Because I’d much rather marry you. Yes, he was sweet… but I much prefer strong, grumpy dwarves with lots of tattoos.”

The expression he gave you only made you continue. “I don’t need a house, or promises of a family. I want to be with someone because I love them, human or not, wealthy or not, it doesn’t matter.”

His expression grew more hopeful, although you could tell there were still doubts.

“I want someone who picks me flowers because they make him think of me. I want you Dwalin, can’t you see that?”

He moved closer, his voice rumbling as he brushed his fingers against your cheek. “I think I see it now.”

You smiled softly. Finally.

“Kiss me?”

“Of course. As many kisses as you want.”

And that night, when Dwalin set up his bedroll right next to yours and put his arm around you, the last thing you heard as you drifted off to sleep was his whispered words.

“I love you, Y/N.”

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