#and Thorin’s just. ‘he came out ugly ;-; FUCK’

[ghostzart]

Follow up to this

(Also shoutout to my buddy @khazdmazerb for suggesting dwobbit Frodo to me <3)

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Garage AU - 'nother time - Part 4

So, here's my last part for this lovely AU.

Please...Do read the other parts :D

@middleearthpixie Durin’s Garage AU- Good Trouble (Modern!Dwalin x reader)

@laurfilijames - Durin's Garage (Modern!Fili x reader) Part 1 Part 2

@i-did-not-mean-to - ‘Nother Time (Modern!Ori x reader) Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@fandomfaeryreads (Modern!Kili x reader) - Garages and Gazes - Part 1

@blairsanne (Modern!Bofur x reader) - Homecoming

@middleearthpixie The Chance You Take (Modern!Thorin x Reader) Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Fandom: Modern!AU Hobbit

Characters: Modern!Ori x Reader

Words: 4,9k

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, unprotected sex, cross-dressing

“Ori, there’s a car outside your door and it’s…” Thorin relapsed into silence before going: “Oh, we’ve wondered if you’d come back.”

“I suppose you’re not here for the free tire change?” He cocked an eyebrow at me, taking in the flushed cheeks and the kiss-bruised lips with a sly grin that made his eyes sparkle like that stupid stone Rose had thrown into the ocean like an idiot.

“I…no,” I stammered, trying to twist the skirt of my business suit down again, but it was an irredeemable mess of wrinkly fabric at this point, so I just let it be.

“I’ve locked up,” Thorin grinned and dropped my car keys into a neat little bowl by the door, winking at me and adding: “I guess we all have better things to do tonight. I’m glad your car seems to be working perfectly fine, Y/N, for we really have more than enough work as it is.”

If you spend your time seducing women instead of fixing cars that does not come as a big surprise, I thought, amused by his words.

“I took the liberty of parking it into an actual spot, otherwise neighbours and kinsmen will wonder if Ori has had a terrible accident, and I doubt you want Kí to show up here?”

Thorin looked all too smug still, but with a small wave of his massive hand, he turned to the door and said, without facing me: “I’m glad you came back.”

And then he was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

“What does he mean?” I asked, cocking my head to the side, and looking at Ori who was bright red.

“I might have been just a tad mopey since you’ve left?” he admitted with a small chuckle, twiddling his thumbs, and looking past me at the closed front door.

“Is that so? Tell me about it,” I grinned, tracing the line of his tense jaw with my index as I stepped up to him again, eager to breathe in his sweet smell and feel the heat radiating from his body.

“It was not the sex,” he started, his eyes fluttering shut, “even though that was quite amazing…it…I guess I felt a bit lonely? Robbed? Like I had a perfect thing in the palm of my hand, and I just watched you go…”

“I was at work every day since then, but it took you almost a week to call?” I commented pointedly as my body melted onto his.

“I was not sure you…well, you left? I thought…maybe…you’d call?” he sounded deeply humiliated now.

“Yes…” I nodded slowly, “I should have, I might have, I wanted to…but what was I to say? Hey, here’s the crazy lady who doesn’t really know how to drive and who fucked the secretary out of the blue, destroyed the records, and then took off in a blind panic?”

“How about ‘Hey, it’s Y/N and I am not disgusted by the idea of seeing you again’? I would have come to the city, you know?” A tiny smile flitted over his beautiful face as he clasped his hands behind my back and leaned his forehead against mine.

“I am very obviously not disgusted by the idea of seeing you again,” I groaned. Wasn’t I here? Hadn’t I rushed along empty roads to eat cold pizza in bed with him? Had I not been dry-humping him like my life depended on it only moments earlier?

His lips on mine felt familiar and warm as if I had known him all my life, as if we were meant to be somehow, and – in an instant – all the fear and the stress fell from my shoulders like rocks tumbling down a precipice.

“Did you think of us?” he asked, his eyes burning with intensity now.

“All the time! How drab and ugly the people in the city are compared to you, how bland the food tastes, how cold my bed is,” I sighed, “How can one miss what one has barely even grazed the surface of?”

“We were worried…we can be a handful, God knows, but…I can do better, I swear,” he promised in a low, vibrating voice, “Kí will stay home and be as quiet as a mouse, Thorin is not always that imperious, and Bofur is not always that intrusive. We can…change.”

His tune had changed from ‘come back’ to ‘stay’; such a dangerous, insidiously seductive plea it was.

“I don’t want you to change though, Ori, I want you to be just who and what you are. You’re perfect,” I mumbled, unable to shake the feeling that I had fallen into a fairy tale again; his skin was warm and fragrant under my searching fingers and my wandering lips as he steered me to that bedroom I had wished I had woken up in every morning since the one when I actually had.

“You were meant to end up here,” he sighed, peeling the layers of my well-groomed masquerade of propriety off to lay bare the garter belt and the silk underwear that spoke of a darker need and impulses so devious they put the surface layer to shame.

“You were meant for me, God, you were made for me,” he went on, his body – still fully clothed – feeling like the missing puzzle piece.

“Thorin speaks a lot of keys; he’s a sucker for that kind of thing, and Fíli is adamant about the right fuel for every single engine…and for the first time, I do believe them.”

And I understood what he meant; everything about him complemented my soul, my body, my essence perfectly.

“Do you want me to heat up the pizza? Are you hungry?” he asked, even though his hands were resting on my naked flesh, effectively igniting tiny knots of fire deep within my blood.

“No, it has time,” I breathed, “and I have not. God, get out of these clothes, I am begging you.”

I watched as the secretary, the well-adjusted, slightly shy, definitely upstanding persona, plummeted to the ground along with the garments that brought him to life and the naked, shivering soul gleaming through paper-skin was revealed.

Would I ever grow tired of this spectacle that made the Northern lights and the great waterfalls of this world seem like garish Country Club golf course decorations?

I would not.

As beautiful as he was, he seemed realer than anyone I had ever met before; there was a long, pale scar running along his forearm that looked like an open fracture having been mended and his gait had a slight limp now due to a serious hematoma on his foot.

Most probably, he had been a skinny, angular boy who had grown into a pale, almost mystical fairy without wings.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” I sighed, my hands lifting as of their own will to touch that silken skin on which a thousand small stories were written in invisible ink.

“Am I? I’ve not been under the impression that I tempt women all too much,” he laughed, melting into my caress eagerly.

“I have not thought of much else since…since seeing you for the first time,” I admitted, brushing my lips over the fragrant curve of his neck slowly and feeling him shiver.

“Do you go to work like this?” he asked in a breathless voice, pointing at my underwear accusingly.

“I do; my workplace is nothing like yours. It doesn’t smell like sex; it’s just an office with a secretary quite unlike you,” I hummed.

“And here I was thinking you just went around seducing poor pencil-pushers,” he chuckled, his fingers dancing over the clasp of my bra – matching the silk panties – under which my nipples were already clearly visible, straining towards him like the tiny traitors that they were.

“Oh, I wish. She’s a good, upstanding, completely straight lady,” I grumbled.

“I’m sure Thorin would be delighted to lend you his,” Ori grinned, nipping at the sensitive skin underneath my ear, that white, long-fingered hand curling around my throat carefully, his fingertips scraping along it.

He was playing me like an instrument even though the mewling sounds escaping me were anything but musical; maybe, he was just really bad at it? He certainly looked pleased enough with his own artistry though, so I didn’t worry overmuch.

“Would he? I’d like that,” I sighed, my breath hitching in my throat as his hand slid down from my throat to carefully span around my left breast, that slender thumb rubbing gently over the nub of tangled wires that lay bare. The sparks thus created were enough to set his sweet, little cottage on fire, but he stood – unafraid – while my knees went liquid.

“I’ll convince you yet,” he murmured, steering me gently backwards until my legs hit the edge of the bed and I fell onto it like a sack of potatoes, pulling him along with me in my surprise.

As he collapsed on top of me, mindful not to crush or hurt me, a wave of fragrant warmth hit me and cut off my breath with pure longing and so, I clawed my fingers into his shoulders, trying to pull him even closer.

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, pressing insistent kisses into my shoulder and down my chest, “wake up next to me, quit your job and take one closer to here…”

“I cannot,” I sighed, but as his mouth skimmed along my hip, the idea suddenly didn’t sound so ludicrous anymore.

The wispy hint of silk felt heavy and damp against my legs as it was pulled down only to be instantly replaced by another kind of silk, just as warm and moist, but much more…alive.

“You can,” he hummed as his tongue darted across my writhing flesh leaving gashes of fire smouldering darkly.

It felt as if my body was filled with lava and every single one of his caresses made the thin crust containing the liquid fire crack and break; I felt as if I was flowing, sloshing, oozing around his tender touches.

His ears felt warm against the inside of my thighs as I tensed, every panting, shallow breath I took bringing me closer to that moment where the edge of my pleasure would cut me apart to set my spirit free.

“I’ve dreamed about this, I freely admit that…How I wanted to taste you,” he sighed, one finger trailing along the swollen, pulsating walls of that secret garden where the most torturously exquisite pleasure bloomed into fire and light.

“Please,” I begged as my hips jerked in pursuit of the wet pressure his words had stolen from me.

“Scream for me,” he whispered and dove back, his hands spreading me apart like one should never do to a book, unless one wanted to criminally crack the spine, and propelling me over the edge without warning.

Scream I did, my back arching impossibly and my toes curling into the soft sheets helplessly as I was hurled – blind and deaf – through an abyss of imploding stars and blinding light.

Just as he had that first time, Ori proved himself to be a very considerate partner, anchoring me through the storm and caressing me until my oversensitive flesh couldn’t bear it anymore.

As soon as he withdrew though, the overwhelming need crashed like a wave – having withdrawn for a breath only to return with a vengeance – over me, and I was gasping and begging for him to return to my skin and lips like a drowning woman yearned for air.

“Hush,” he gentled me, “I am right here.”

“Stay with me,” I pleaded in turn, heedless of what my words might mean to him, “closer!”

I was spread out like an Easter lamb on his white sheets, and when he knelt between my legs, gathering them in his hands and pushing into me with the self-evident ease of a man coming home after having been away, a shivering, tremulous sigh left my lips.

“Look at me,” he almost commanded and I could do nothing to escape his piercing gaze as he held my eyes as captive as my legs.

He was glorious; I had never seen anything nearly as perfectly magical as his heated cheeks and the burning passion in his expression as he slammed into me mercilessly, lifting my legs onto his shoulders and alternating between caressing my breasts almost reverently and teasing that aching knot between my legs.

“You were made for me,” he groaned as I tensed around him, the second orgasm washing fast and hot like a summer rain shower over me and turning my muscles to goo within a millisecond.

Oh, I couldn’t deny that nobody had ever made me feel that way. I didn’t even think about the stretchmarks or the fact that the position made me look like a roll of raw dough squished into buns ready to be popped into the oven; all I could think about was how he filled me, how every movement made my toes curl and my eyes cross, how he seemed to fit into every single gaping emptiness that tortured me.

In more than one way, Ori made me feel whole again.

A mechanic he might not have been, but that didn’t keep him from being a repairman in his own right, fixing insecurities and badly healed hurts by tender touches and warm words.

“Stay with me,” he implored again before coming undone around, above, inside of me like an earthquake of beauty, shaking loose the fossilised fragments of my brittle soul.

Again, his hand sought my cheek almost instantly as he melted into my flesh without pulling out; he just lay there, cushioned awkwardly on my chest, breathing small kisses onto the sensitive skin of my temple leisurely while his fingers carded through the hair just above my ear.

I knew not how long we had already lain there, basking in the afterglow of something that exceeded the callous one-night-stand it should have qualified as by far.

“I’ll go and heat up the pizza in just a second,” he promised, slinging his other arm around me, and holding me close as if I could have pulled away from him even if I had wanted to.

A rattling sound came from the hallway, and he groaned.

“I’ve locked the door, I never do,” he grinned and – reluctantly – got up to check who it was and to put the pizza into the oven.

Slipping into a pair of sweatpants, he walked away.

It took me 5 seconds to grab my panties and his sweatshirt and to follow him on tiptoes.

“No, Kí, I cannot now. Ask Thorin,” I heard Ori say.

“What is it?” I asked, coming up behind him and hugging his naked torso from behind, sending a distinctive shiver down his spine.

“Kí says he wants to borrow a car, but I think he’s just bored or nervous and wants to annoy someone,” Ori explained with a grin.

“You’re the only one who has not told me that he’d kill me,” Kíli grinned cheekily.

“There you go,” I laughed and handed him my keys, “You can take my car if you really need one. I’ll be going into work late tomorrow anyway.”

I had decided that just now; I’d grant myself a half-day off – between the sheets if possible – in the countryside, I deserved that.

“Oh, thanks Y/N…Do you like it here?” Kí leaned against the doorframe as if he was really looking for a chat.

“I’ve come back, haven’t I?” I laughed, settling my chin on Ori’ shoulder and hugging him closer as he was shielding me from the cold air blowing in.

“Will you…would you stay here? It’s an okay town and Ori is in love with you?”

I froze.

“He’s not; he doesn’t even know me,” I was quick to dispel the idea and the surge of inane hope within my heart.

“He knows you plenty…and when you know, you know…You get me?” Kíli grinned cheekily, “He gave you his ugly sweater and he’s been talking about you non-stop without ever saying your name.”

I waited to see if the man in my arms would deny that, but he didn’t.

I imagined that he was glaring something fierce at his cousin, but he did not call him a liar or a mouthy brat.

“You’re not helping the cause here,” Ori muttered when nobody had expected him to say anything anymore.

“Thorin was already here earlier! How does that look?” he went on in a huff.

“It looks like you’re all very close?” I hummed into his ear, scratching my nails gently along his naked stomach.

“We are…Cuz, you’re too quiet! If you let her go again, nobody will have pity on you anymore,” Kíli lectured him with me standing right there, hearing every single syllable.

“Good night, Kí,” Ori sighed and just closed the door in the other man’s face.

“Sorry about him, he means well,” he said, “I’m sure Fí has sent a message already as well. As I’ve said, I’m not good with women in general and…I like you, I really do, which makes me all the clumsier and less probable to say the right thing.”

Did he know that this was exactly the right thing to say?

Judging by the way he tried to wipe the tired expression off his face, I guessed not.

Before I could reply, he had padded – barefoot and bare-chested – into the kitchen and turned on the oven; standing in the hallway still, my attention was focused on a candid snapshot featuring him, Fíli and Kíli sitting at a small table in front of some pub or other.

It was late autumn already now, but in the picture, they were bathed in sunlight; rolled-up sleeves and shades all around. My heart cramped with a sudden twinge of deep and unexpected longing.

They were beautiful, but that was nothing new, they always were…they looked happier though than I had ever really seen them, and it came as an astonishing realisation to me that a part of me wanted to see them that carefree and relaxed.

“Ah, yes, we took a small trip,” Ori explained just beside me, and I flinched for I had not heard him come back.

My gaze turned on him hungrily, an avid desire to commit every single movement and line to memory flooding my mind as I realised that I might never get to see him in the sunlight, that there was a strong probability that I’d never have the chance to kiss him by the sea or to clench my thighs in tempestuous desire upon seeing his pale forearms or his knobby knees bared for the golden kisses of those healing rays.

“You want it?” he asked and took the picture of the wall and handed it to me with a smile.

Oh, how my fingers trembled as they closed around the glossy paper at the very edge.

More mementos to remind me that my home was devoid of cousins barging in and of laughter, that there was but the dusty, shallow heat of the radiator instead of the fragrant, living, moving warmth of another body, that I was utterly alone in this world.

I’d remember him though. I’d picture him in an ugly Christmas sweater, surrounded by his family and friends, laughing while the mulled wine drove a charming blush into his cheeks. I’d imagine the surface changing with the seasons while that golden heart would be ever the same: sweet and indulgent, eager to please, and dutybound at all times. I’d remember…and I’d miss him.

The last five days had been but a dark promise, a bitter taste, of the agony to come.

“My clothes look better on you than on me,” Ori muttered and went back to the room to shimmy into my crumpled skirt and blazer, modelling them for me in a ludicrously sexy imitation of a fashion show. Gone were the ugly sweatpants; I could clearly see his long, slim legs and I couldn’t help dying to get my hands on them.

There was something dangerously intoxicating in feeling the silk lining of my own garment brush against the back of my hand while my palm made contact with flesh so unlike my own.

Crowding him against the wall, I pushed his legs as far apart as my skirt would allow it and nibbled hungrily on the skin of his throat while my hand was still rummaging down there, and Ori did humour me by letting his head fall back against the solid wall with a small banging noise.

“Is this your secretary fantasy?” he teased, batting his dark lashes over huge, inky eyes at me in mock innocence.

If only he knew, I thought, feeling the moist heat grow sticky between my legs while he squirmed under the not so gentle caresses I lavished on the parts of him bulging the fine fabric indecently.

“Gotta turn the oven off again, boss,” he grinned and – swinging his hips and winking at me over his shoulder – he went to do just that.

Within three quick steps, I was upon him, tearing the blazer from his shoulders and sinking my teeth into his flesh harder than I had intended to, but his eyes were dark and challenging as he turned around and grabbed the hem of my skirt to inch it up ever so slowly.

I had never met a man who gave into roleplay and the mere idea of accepting to appear even the slightest bit feminine so willingly and fearlessly and I would have lied if I had claimed that it did not unlock a dark and voracious desire in me.

Hopping onto the kitchen table, Ori spread his legs further, settling his feet on the chairs standing around it, and allowing me a view I would not forget until the day I died.

“I can drop a pencil if that’s where your mind goes,” he started, but I crashed into him, slamming him flat onto the table and crawling up over him, my head grazing the light fixture swinging wildly overhead.

Gathering the skirt carelessly and pulling it up, I but shoved my own underwear aside before plunging down on him eagerly with an almost victorious cry of relief.

A chair fell as he pushed against it, but the clatter died off unheard and unheeded as I rocked on my aching knees, as if riding for my life with the devil himself in hot pursuit.

His hands slid up under the formless sweater, teasing the buds of my nipples into full bloom, while his ass made squeaking noises against the polished wood of his kitchen table.

Hunger such as I had never known before burned through me, purging the doubt and the fear, and left me clean and purified as my eyes closed in wordless delight.

Had I seen myself, fucking a man wearing my own skirt on his kitchen table, I might have laughed, but God, he felt so good and the fact that I wanted him again after so short a cool-down phase must have been indicative of something.

In an unexpected turn of events, he rose up, pressing me into the table by the shoulders in a surprisingly graceful spin and – before I could protest – he was standing in front of the piece of furniture, thrusting into me deep enough to make me scream.

The feeling of the linen-blend against my legs, the smile on his face as I looked at him barely able to form a coherent thought, and the pressure of his rhythmic thrusts all made my mind to blank and when his hands closed around my breasts once more, I bucked as if in the throes of a seizure, pulling him with me into the abyss.

This was absurd.

I was sitting, butt-naked, on his couch eating pizza while a rerun of an old show flickered over the TV with the sound turned down.

“Do you like the pizza?” Ori asked, sitting – just as naked – beside me and handing me a napkin.

Truth be told, the middle part was still cold, but yes, it was the best pizza I had ever eaten.

I could only hum my agreement as I didn’t trust my voice; were there no barriers of intimacy that this man would not break as if they were mere shadow walls?

Having sex with someone in their office was something not completely unheard of in the corporate world, but to fuck them in their own kitchen while they were wearing my clothes? To sit naked and unashamed with them on their couch?

“Well, I’m glad you decided to come back,” he laughed, relaxed, sprinkled in gold and crumbs when I merely nodded. Was it only me or did every woman find it weirdly touching to be allowed to see a man’s penis flaccid and warm, nestled in its thicket of pubes like a bird, and did we all feel our heart seize with tenderness when confronted with that much fragility?

This was some couple-level shit, and I didn’t know if I was ready to admit that I felt comfortable and happy despite being startled by how easy this had been. I wanted time to stop just to look at him until my eyes turned to stone and my body to dust.

“Me too,” I confessed, breathing in the scent of his home, of his skin, of his being.

“You’ve yet to meet Dwalin, he’s…I’d like to say ‘a hoot’ but he really is…not,” Ori babbled joyfully, “and Fí is with his girlfriend tonight, but I’m sure he’d love to see you again.”

“I’m sure Fíli doesn’t even remember me,” I protested, shaking my head, but his hand came to rest on top of mine gently as he assured me that they all remembered me just fine.

“It’s not the city for sure, but it’s a nice town. Kí has taken off with your car for real; I guess you’re stuck with me,” he said, moving to the window and peering out.

The fact that he was unashamed to look out of his window while completely naked astonished and amused me; I wore make-up to empty my letterbox. My whole life felt like a bloody ordeal compared to his, I had to admit.

“I guess I don’t mind that,” I smiled.

He came back, took away the empty plates, and wrapped his arms around my naked waist as he slid behind me.

“Let’s go to bed then, I can lend you a book or I could read to you?” he proposed, and I agreed.

I woke up tangled up in his limbs, his warmth like a second blanket covering my soul rather than my body, and my eyes fell on the empty wineglasses next to my head.

Drinking wine in bed while he read to me, my fingers drawing lazy circles on his skin, his tender smile as he kissed my brow and turned off the light, another slew of memories that would rattle around in my head like loose screws if I was to leave.

Getting up, I turned on his coffee machine and looked out of the window only to discover a huge man, his bald pate covered in tattoos, waving sheepishly at me.

I opened the kitchen window and waited.

“Hyah! ‘m Dwalin, ye’re Ori’s girl, huh? Is he in?” the man asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Yeah, come in, I’m just making coffee,” I invited and nodded into the direction of the front door.

“Ori? Dwalin is here,” I padded back into the room and shook him gently.

“LAD!?! Kí brought back a car that isn’t his,” Dwalin roared outside the bedroom as if we were deaf and didn’t know about it.

“Shut up, Dwalin! What do you want?” Ori stepped into his boxers and left the room, taking my hand as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Eh, someone’s gotta open the garage, na?” Dwalin took the cup I handed him and grinned. He looked like he had had a rough night himself, but he seemed – as per usual around here – rather pleased with himself.

A glance at the clock on the oven told me that the best mechanics within an impressive radius were collectively late for work, which – in itself – was hilarious, but…so was I.

“I’ll be heading home for a half-day of work as well,” I smiled, breathing a light kiss onto Ori’s cheek, but – immediately – his hand wrapped around my wrist inexorably, tugging slightly until I was back in his arms.

“Is that it?” he asked, hurt vibrating in his voice and radiating from his dark eyes.

“Boy, we’re both terribly late for work…that’s what wine in bed does for you,” I sighed, slipping into my shoes while still wearing his sweatshirt and not much else. “I’ll call you later if I don’t have to work non-stop. Otherwise, I’ll see you tonight?”

His eyes grew round while Dwalin whistled through his teeth quietly.

“Tonight?” Ori asked, breathless, a thousand thoughts and emotions brimming in his eyes.

“Hmmm, tonight. I’ve got to run, but…tonight?” I let him pull me into a crushing embrace, his lips diving to capture mine in a passionate kiss that tasted like coffee and sleep.

“Yes, a thousand times yes, tonight…” he replied against my mouth and the smile that blossomed on his face made the monster commute worth it – just as expected.

-> Interlude

[theartofbeinganeldar]

The Art of Being an Eldar: Legolas x Reader Chapter 2

Summary: You're a fantasy-loving, LARPing human from this world, who's the black sheep of society because of your obsession for the unreal and alienation of what's real. When you're in the middle of a LARP battle with some pretty phony boars, you fall out of a tree and bust your head. You wake up, alone, and are suddenly attacked by some very pissed-off, very real wargs. Without any idea of how you got there, you got dropped into Middle-Earth, with only bits and pieces of memories of Tolkien's masterpiece, though your recollection of everything else is perfectly clear. And of all places in Middle-Earth, you got dropped into Mirkwood, with some suspicious, potentially hostile, Woodland Elves...

Chapter No.: Chapter 1

Key: [Y/N]=Your Name [F/N]= Friend's Name [B/N]= Bro's Name [S/N]= Sis's Name [M/N]= Mom's Name [e/c]= eye color [h/c]= hair color [s/c]= skin color

Notes: Listen to Medieval Pagan Music, Runestones when reading this chapter.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, graphic depictions of gore and violence (Cuz of orc battles y'know?), more angst, slow burn, some light depression in the first few chapters, some amnesia about Middle-Earth because the Valar say you're not supposed to have foresight, hard-core language, feels, lots and lots of feels, mentions of NSFW content, maybe some eventual NSFW content, LGTBQ+ characters, Thranduil being a jackass at first because he's fabulous, Legolas being a hot edgy prince that nobody can handle, Kili being an innocent bean, Hobbits being smol innocent beans, except for Bilbo 'cause he's been through some tough shit, Bard being dad of the year, Thorin being one dumbass boi, awesome dragons, awesome Nazgul, awesome scenery, awesome stuff in general, Elrond isn't listened to by anybody, confused Aragorn is confused,  Denethor's a bitch as always, Boromir lives, brace yourself for creepy as fuck Cream of Worm Tongue Grima Wormtongue, Gandalf. (yes these are all legit warnings don't judge me)

Pairings/Ships: Legolas x Reader, Legolas x you, Aragorn x Arwen, Faramir x Eowyn, Thranduil x Elvenqueen, Galadriel x Celery Celeborn, Boromir x OC, Thorin x OC, Fili x OC, etc. general LoTR standard shippings plus some of my own cuz I can't stand my boys being lonely

Word Count: I try to keep my chapters short, under 2000 words.

Rating: Teen (14+) for now

When I said I hated reality, I didn't mean I wanted to be ripped from it without my family.

How they'd healed you so efficiently was beyond your comprehension, and nobody came to visit you. You couldn't bring yourself to eat much of what they brought you. To think you'd finally gotten your wish, you'd finally, somehow gotten sucked into some alternate reality where fiction was fact and what you'd known and lived in for your entire life was nonexistent... It was amazing. Surreal.

But you couldn't stay here. Not without your family. Not without your mom, not without [B/N], not without [S/N]. [F/N]... You wished you could've at least said goodbye to him. Life without the only people you'd ever had seemed unreal, incomprehensible, and too nightmarish. Too... Alone. You couldn't lose them.

For hours, you waited, pacing the ten-by-ten cell furiously. You had to find some way to get out, some way to find whatever portal you'd triggered... A sound at the barred door made you freeze in place, whipping around like a meerkat. It was Blue-Eyes, and some of his guards, one of which was unlocking the door. "Are you letting me go?"

Blue-Eyes stared at you as if trying to figure out whether or not you were desperate or stupid. Finally, he shook his head, probably deciding it was most likely both in your case. Well, screw him. "My father wishes to see you."

You glanced to each of the guards that came to grip either of your arms. "Is that... Bad?"

Blue-Eyes smirked. "It depends on his mood."

You glared at him as the other two Elves ushered you out of the door, onto the precariously thin ledge just outside of the cell. "You're trying to freak me out, aren't you?"

Blue-Eyes didn't answer, but took up the rear of the procession. They lead you to a platform overlooking all of the mazelike bridge-sets of the dungeons, and opened a pair of elaborately crafted doors. You balked, your jaw fell, your eyes widened as far as they'd go, stunned by the view.

The building you'd thought was surrounded by trees? It was a palace-city, which stretched back from the front wall as far as you could see. And it was made entirely of trees. Bridges of wood, twisting trunks, curling pillars of wood holding up a vaultrf ceiling which opened up to the orange-gold canopy, and beyond, the cloudless blue sky. Huge, arched windows with stained glass of amber filled the front wall, framed in wood, every few dozen feet, letting in a golden light that made the entire place seem more surreal than it already was. Leaves fell too slowly here, as if afraid that touching the ground would destroy their fabulousness. Elves inhabited every floor, sailing gracefully around like gorgeous swans that glared down at the sudden ugly duckling in their midst.

You felt tiny.

"This is your home?" You breathed in amazement, going where the guards took you on autopilot as you drank in the magnificent sight. "It's bigger than the town I live in!"

"This is just a small portion of it," Blue-Eyes had a hint of pride in his voice. You glanced over your shoulder to see him taking in the view with a faint smile on his face. "This part is my father's palace. Only nobles and militia reside here."

"It's beautiful..." You surveyed the palace in awe. I'm here. I'm really here! This is where I'm supposed to be! "Do you all have different floors? Is it flameproof? What happens if there's a forest fire? Can you even get forest fires here?"

"Why would you like to know?" Blue-Eyes demanded sharply, all kindness gone just as suddenly as it'd arrived, replaced with obvious suspicion and disdain.

You sighed, and dropped the subject. You wouldn't be finding anything out about this place today. The guards lead you up a short flight of stairs, which stopped at a huge circular pavilion, lined with a different type of guard in silver armor and navy-blue masks covering their lower faces. They stood almost impossibly still, and each carried a deadly spear.

More stairs, curving upward from each side of the pavilion, lead to a massive throne of carved wood. A regal Elf lounged on it, holding a curled wooden staff. He wore silver robes lined on the inside with a deep crimson, and a crown of thin branches styled like an elk's antlers --or maybe a thornbush-- sat atop his head of snow-white hair. Piercing blue eyes watched you from underneath strangely dark (And thick.) brows, but his catlike face was drawn into an unreadable expression.

Blue-Eyes stepped before you and the guards, and put his right arm over his chest, fist resting over his heart, as he bowed at the waist. "My king, we have brought the prisoner."

Inwardly, you winced. What kind of father forced his son to call him 'my king'?

The Elvenking flicked his fingers toward the guards on either side of you. "Leave us."

As they left with barely a clink of armor, Blue-Eyes grabbed you roughly by the shoulder, forcing you to your knees. His grip was like iron. He leaned down to snarl in your ear, "Show respect. His majesty has shown you a great kindness in allowing you to live."

Aw, fuck. You forgot that these guys had healed you. If Lord Fabulous over there had decided that by even so much as breathing near his lands you didn't deserve for your wounds to be healed, you'd be dead right now. "O-oh..." You quickly fixed your position, and even bowed your head with an arm over your chest, like Blue-Eyes had done. "Sorry..."

"My son tells me he found you trying to escape from warg-bound orcs on our northern border," Elvenking drawled slowly. Wargs... Those big dogs... Why does that sound familiar? Were they in a book? Mythology? A game? You couldn't remember, and Elvenking didn't give you time to. "You were found near-death, and without any apparent recollection of how you came to be there. Is that correct?"

You weren't sure how to adress him. "Yes, sir. My lord. Your majesty. I'm sorry."

Elvenking continued. "Would you like to elaborate on what you do remember?"

His tone wasn't kind. It was "Tell me bitch or I will throw you off into the chasms below."

And there were lots of chasms.

"You won't believe me," You started, and risked a glance; Blue-Eyes and Elvenking watched you warily. You could easily say you were from this world, but you didn't know anything about it. You couldn't lie believably. And even if you could, Elves can sense lies. You figured you'd get some extra points if you were totally honest. "But I'll tell you anyway." So you started out with your explanation of coming from a place called Earth, and that you'd been having a battle against some pretty fake boars played by unconvincing actors in Live Action Roleplay, when you'd fallen out of a tree, banged yourself up, and knocked yourself out. You then proceeded to explain about the big dogs and the orcs.

Elvenking lifted his chin slightly for the sole purpose of glowering at you. "Tell me more of this... Earth." You told him all you could. About cars and trains and jets and phones, then on to TVs and movies, and the huge skyscrapers, and how modern slang was different from what it had been, and how where you came from, Elves and orcs and dragons were all part of a genre known as fantasy. You even tried, for a brief period of time, to explain the subject of eMail and social sites like Tumblr and Twitter, but you gave up at their odd looks as they tried to comprehend the concept. You told them about all seven continents, presidents, world leaders, endless wars, hunger, trashing the planet and all other shit that was wrong with Earth.

You could've been there for hours explaining it all. When you were finished, Elvenking regarded you like he'd just came to the conclusion that you just weren't normal. "It seems, [Y/N], that your world is poisoned."

"It is!" You agreed excitedly. "Nobody cares about it anymore! It's why I grew up to be so... Un-normal, by my world's standards."

"I see..." Elvenking blinked slowly. "Then you are, since you are a spawn of this Earth, equal poison to this world, are you not?"

All the blood drained from your face. "What?"

He looked to Blue-Eyes. "Kill them."

Blue-Eyes gripped you by the back of the head, and your hands flew to his wrist as he yanked your head back. With a flourish, he drew one of his ivory-handled knives and pressed it to your throat. "Wait!" You screamed, and Elvenking raised a hand.

"Last words?" Blue-Eyes sneered.

"I don't know where I am," You choked out quickly; the cool steel of the blade was digging into your neck, cutting a fine line. "I don't know how I got here, but usually when stuff like this happens in movies, there's always a portal. Let me find it-- send an escort if you want! Take me back to where you found me, and I'll find the portal and go home. You'll never see me again!"

Elvenking dropped his hand, and your heart jumped, expecting your head to go with it. "Do you really think that is wise? I sense no dishonesty from you, but you could very well be a spy from your world, which seems so intent on conquering and destroying peace. I will not let this world, much less my own land, fall prey to yours."

"I won't tell anyone about you, or this place, I promise! I don't even know where this is!" Tears of frustration pricked the corners of your eyes. "I'm not a damn spy! I don't even know how I got here! Give me a couple of days to find the portal. Then I'll leave. What if there was a way for you to know I'll keep my word? Like a blood-oath, or something!"

"And if asked where you had gone?" Blue-Eyes countered, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'll tell them I went to Narnia, dammit! They never take me seriously anyway!" Your eyes widened. "This isn't Narnia, is it? Narnia didn't have Elves!"

"No, this is not... Narnia." Elvenking replied. "And you will not know the name of this land. You have three days to find your portal. You will be accompanied by a small assembly of my best warriors. If you do not find the door to your world within the given three days... I will give the order to kill you."

You swallowed hard. The steel dragged across your throat painfully. "Th-that sounds fair." It didn't, but, you just rolled with it.

"Legolas, you will go with them," Elvenking said; something clicked in your mind. You knew that name... You knew that name. But... Why?

Blue-Eyes-- Legolas-- nodded and finally removed the blade from your throat. Lord Fabulous inclined his head once, and you vaguely thanked him, too concerned with how you knew Blue-Eyes's name. He kept a tight, painful grip on your arm, actually digging his fingers in until you were pretty sure he cut off most of your circulation.

When you reached your cell, he thrust you in roughly, making you stumble forward. You whipped around to glare at him. "Could you be careful, Blue-Eyes?"

He paused in locking the door. Confused, he brought his sapphire eyes to meet your [e/c] ones. "What did you just call me?"

"Blue-Eyes," You suddenly felt a little embarassed about picking a nickname for him. Shit, you'd never let that bother you before. He could screw off. "I didn't know your name until a few minutes ago, so... I just picked something to call you."

He raised an eyebrow incredulously. "And you chose to call me after my eyes." It wasn't a question; it was a statement.

You flushed a little, glancing to the side with only your eyes nervously, then back to him. "Uh... Yeah. That's pretty much it."

He rolled his eyes and walked away. Before you even realized what you were doing, you'd ran to the bars and grabbed hold of them, pressing your cheek up against them to watch him walk away. "Blue-Eyes!" He stopped, but didn't turn around. "Your name... Legolas. I think I've heard it before."

He turned his head slightly, like he might be interested, but your hopes fell through the floor when he just continued walking. You immediately wished you'd've said something to get his attention, so he'd come talk to you. Like, Hey, I'm really a spy for Earth, MWAHAHAHAHAHA.

Ok, maybe not that drastic...

But you did wish he'd stayed to talk to you. Even if he'd tried to kill you. Legolas... You slid down the bars, sitting on the floor. Your knees came up to your chest of their own accord. Legolas... What do your Elf eyes see? You knew that you knew his name, but where did you know it from?

They're taking...

Aw, damn. It was right on the tip of your brain. Lord Fabulous looked really familiar, too. He reminded you of Ronan the Accuser from Marvel. Why couldn't you remember? Was it a side-effect of being tossed to another reality? What else did you not remember...?

You sat there for hours, until one of the guards brought you some food. You picked at the meal, as a tune got stuck in your head that you couldn't quite place...

Home is behind...

The world ahead...

Here, the song fizzed out like a radio signal, then you got another bit of it...

All shall fade..

All shall...

...Fade...

~ominous time skip~

You, Blue-Eyes, and a team of Elvish warriors like the ones who'd helped you escape the dogs and orcs set out at dawn, which was way too early for someone used to getting up at noon most of the time. All the Elves showed off their glowy perfect selves by leaping gracefully to pebble to pebble like the regal shits they were, including Blue-Eyes.

Actually, scratch that. Blue-Eyes was the fucking king of being a show-off.

They moved fast, and you were surprisingly able to keep up with them. Not one of the Elves wanted to speak to you; they seemed to consider you an abomination.

You kinda seen what they were getting at, though. You were still in your bright white, blue, and black sci-fi Elf outfit from yesterday, complete with the latex ears and bright blue faux-hawk, which had become much less faux-hawk-y after sleep. You were covered in dried blood, dirt, and parts of your outfit were ripped. You'd tried to clean up as best as you could when you were woken up by using the water from the cup you'd been given to scrub your face and arms with the stunningly clean sheets on your cot.

In other words, you stuck out like a bright blue flower in a field of dark grass. You didn't know the way back to the river, so most of the Elves surrounded you discreetly while Blue-Eyes took the lead. Every one of them had a bow or sword or knife out and ready, so one wrong sniff and you were dead.

You traveled for about an hour before anyone spoke. It was Blue-Eyes, to your surprise. "Why is your hair blue?"

"Huh?" Of all possible questions, that one hadn't been expected. Though, that was kind of dumb of you, to just assume they wouldn't eventually wonder if everybody from your world had crazy hair colors.

"Your hair," Blue-Eyes specified, sounding condescending, like his hair was much better than yours because it was long and perfect and almost white. "Why is it blue?"

"Oh," You cleared your throat. "It's dye. My real color is [h/c]. Lots of people do it where I come from. You can dye it a natural color, or an unnatural color, like so. Some keep their natural color and just add streaks that aren't their natural colors. Some dye their full hair, like me, for the sole purpose of cosplay--uh, dressing up as made-up characters for events--and others dye it just for fun. Or to stand out, I guess. But I wouldn't advise it. It ruins your hair. I just don't care, though."

"Why would anyone want to do that?" One Elf asked in horror, then sneered at you. "I suppose those of your world simply do not appreciate the naturalities of the body."

You shrugged. You should see the LGTBQ+ community... But you didn't feel like explaining any of that to these people right now. Especially when they obviously looked down on stuff like that.

"And what character are you meant to be?" Blue-Eyes asked in a challenging tone.

You flushed. "... A sci-fi Elf."

"...Sci-Fi?" A different Elf asked. "What is that?"

"Science fiction," You specified. "Basically, I'm supposed to be an Elf from another planet. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Is that why you have pointed ears?" Blue-Eyes questioned, and you nodded.

"Yeah. They're latex-- a kind of rubber. Wait, do you even have rubber here?" You waved a hand. "Nevermind. They can come off pretty easily, though. Speaking of which, I'd better take them off before they cause damage..." You reached up to one of your ears, despite the looks the Elves gave you.

Blue-Eyes stopped for a minute, halting the whole group. He looked at you like you were crazy. "Whyever would you put something on your body that could cause damage?"

You blinked. "That is a very good question, Blue-Eyes, and one I don't exactly have an answer for. Almost everybody does it at some point." You felt for the flap of latex, but you couldn't find it. Hell, you couldn't even find the edge of the prosthetic. "Oh shit..." You breathed.

"What is it?" Legolas huffed, and turned around impatiently.

Your eyes widened; you couldn't let them think you were panicking, but, well, you were, and shortly after, you did. "I-I can't get it off."

Blue-Eyes's brow furrowed. "Will it cause permanent damage if they are not removed?"

"Maybe? Yes? My skin goes red and itchy and starts to swell up if I touch latex for too long, so, I'm gonna go with a definitely on this one. Just keep walking. I should have them off by the time we get to the river."

But you didn't. There was no flap, no edge of the latex. If it weren't for the fact that you did put latex ears on, you wouldn't have known you had latex ears on. A suspicion grew in your core, so you grabbed hold of the pointed tip, and pinched down with your nails hard and fast. "Ow!"

Every Elf turned to look at you as you pulled your hand away. Some blood was on the tips of your fingers. "Why, in the name of the Valar, would you hurt yourself?" Legolas sighed like a parent lecturing a child, but you were staring at your fingertips in shock. Valar...

"I'm an Elf..."

"I beg your pardon?" Apparently the mere thought of being the same race as you was too much for Blue-Eyes to handle. It was fucking offensive.

"I'm an Elf!" You shouted, and snatched your hand to your chest. "The ears won't come off! They bled and hurt when I pinched them! I'm a damn Elf! When I fell through that portal, I was a normal human! Now I'm an Elf! I don't know whether I should be freaking out or excited!"

Legolas rolled his eyes. "It won't be permanent. Obviously, here you're an Elf. There, you're not. When we get you through the portal, you'll be a human again."

"But..." I don't want to be human... Yet, you were also trying desperately to get back to your family, on pain of death and loss of cool fantasy land. If only you'd wake up to learn you were in some kind of damn coma...

You waved your hands. "Ok. Alright, fine. Is this where you found me?"

Legolas gestured to a particular rock. "The exact spot. Do you think you could find your way from here?"

You smirked; you'd always been good at knowing your way. "Please. I was born with an innate sense of direction. Now how the fuck do we get over this damn river?"

Legolas grinned. "You're an eldar now, aren't you? See if you can get across it yourself." Eldar... That had to mean an Elf of some sort, right?

You stared him down for a second, hands on your hips. He smirked cockily back, pure smugness on his expression. "Ok. Sure. What's life without risk?"

So you took a deep breath, and headed for the opposite bank.

You and your siblings had this special hiking trail in a park, and on this trail was a creek slash pond area. Several of them. You'd always cross the creek carefully, each step placed just so, and quietly, too, so that you could see the frogs-- it was a frog hunt without actually killing said frogs. The exercise gave you all good balance and a know-how for shit not that rock.

But this river was much different than the creek back home. It was clear, and clean, and strong as fuck, so one wrong move and you'd be whooshed away, with Blue-Eyes giving Lord Fabulous the excuse of "Oh they died in the river tragically oops..."

The rocks were unstable. The river swelled over them every so often to make them slippery. Your rubber boots were less than zero help. But you were an Elf now, right? So that had to make you unfairly agile. You took another deep inhale, then took what you hoped was a graceful leaping step, only for you to slip and nearly bust your ass. Elvish powers have to be learned. Noted.

When you finally got to the other side of the bank, you were stiff, and your heart was pounding. Behind you, the Elves sneered and jeered and all kinds of other "eers". You whipped around, and flipped them off. They looked somewhere between shocked, offended, and terrified. You realized they might not know the symbolism of it, and might think you were cursing them. When they reached you, Blue-Eyes was the first to demand what that was all about. "What was that all about?!"

You panicked under pressure. "U-uh... I-it's a minor insult where I come from. Very minor. We use it frequently as a joke among close friends. A friendly insult. Yeah. Sorry. Won't happen again." He totally didn't believe you. So you quickly changed the subject. "O-oh, uh, this way!"

Scenery seen at night was harder to recognize during the day, and vise versa, but you knew you hadn't gone too far up the river when you came across some massive paw prints and scrape marks from where you'd skidded down the bank. Another bonus clue was the scrap of bright blue fabric, from your skirt/tunic thing, hanging precariously from a branch.

It took you the better part of an hour to find the tree you'd woken up at. "Okay, this it it."

"Are you certain?" Blue-Eyes asked you.

"Wait." You laid down, and yep, everything was the same, except in daylight. Legolas frowned at you as you stood, probably ashamed to even breathe the same air as you. "Yeah, this is it."

Blue-Eyes ordered something in Elvish, jerking his head. The Elves immediately set about making camp. "So, in your world, you fell from the highest branches of an oak, yes?"

"Yep, breaking several things in the process."

"And you lost consciousness after you hit the forest floor?"

"Yep."

Legolas hummed and looked up into the canopy. "Then by all means... The portal should be where you laid."

You glanced down at your feet before bouncing up and down a little. "Nope. Nothing."

Legolas huffed. "You may have to try climbing this tree and falling into this spot."

A deranged laugh escaped your throat, which you quickly stifled. "I'm sorry, but are you crazy? What if I die? We don't have the same healing stuff as you guys unless you can pay for it up front, and I'm very poor. So is all of my family. We can't afford that shit. So if I die, what's the point in going back?"

Legolas glared at you. "I didn't mean from very high. Just high enough to hopefully send you through, but not high enough to kill you. Your healers will mend broken bones, will they not?"

You scoffed dejectedly. "Yeah, but for a pretty hefty bill..." You threw your hands up. "Whatever. I'll die anyway if I don't try. Might as well." With Legolas watching you carefully to make sure you didn't try to jump from tree to tree, you started to climb.

Was it really only yesterday that you'd been having a fun, standard LARPing day with your family and [F/N]? The real world seemed like fantasy, now. This felt real. This felt like where you should be. But if your family weren't here, you wouldn't be able to enjoy it. You'd always feel as if you abandoned them. You wondered, did time pass differently? Did it go faster there, and slower here? Or was it the other way around? Would you find the portal, and return to the real world to find your family long gone and the year a thousand into the future? Then you'd wish you'd never left this place. Or would you find not a moment had passed, and to them, it was still the terrifying moment of not knowing if you were dead or alive, to find you unharmed? Would you then be able to convince them to fall through, even on the chance that the portal could only be used a handful of times, and if it did work, would a millenia had passed here? Even Blue-Eyes would've aged by that point, however slightly.

Once you'd reached a suitable height, you braced yourself against the trunk. "How's this?"

Legolas nodded. "Fine. Jump when you're ready.”

You took a minute... Ah... Better get this over with. One does not simply... Damn, what was that meme? "Ok, ready when you are."

Legolas stepped back, and waited; you hesitated, then jumped, and you felt deja vu as you barreled toward the ground, landing flat on your back. The impact knocked the wind out of you, and you felt a painful snap in your right ribcage. You kept your eyes closed; you heard nothing aside from the birds in the trees. You hoped, then hoped some more, expecting at any moment to hear the frantic footfalls of your family rushing to help you...

"Well, I see I was entirely wrong on the matter," Blue-Eyes stated simply, and you frowned. Fuck...

"Ya think? I'm still seeing priss-ass Elves in a goddamn forest that isn't the one I fell in. Fuck you, Blue-Eyes, for having me break a rib for no good damned reason." You glared at him as you tried to sit up, barely making it halfway before Legolas helped you, albeit roughly.

"Watch your tongue," Blue-Eyes snapped. "If it were not for us, you would be dead."

You pursed your lips. "You're gonna kill me anyway just for breathing on your trees, so why didn't you just let me die?"

For a second, Legolas seemed to feel pity for you. "I am sorry. Truly, I am. Perhaps if we fail to locate your way home, I could convince my father to refrain from executing you."

You huffed, wincing as the action hurt your broken-on-some-level ribs. "Why? So I can live the rest of my suddenly immortal life in a dark cell, underground, just for existing? Hell no. I'd rather die."

"Perhaps you could have another use," Legolas offered, and you shook your head.

"Never in my life have I been considered useful." You eyed Blue-Eyes disdainfully. "Ever. By anybody. If you can find a place for somebody like me that doesn't involve imprisonment, fine. But I won't be able to live with myself if I can't find a way back to Earth. I need my family. They're all I ever had."

Legolas knelt beside you. "You... Seem to be very close with them. You love this..." He looked off into the trees, searching for the word. "...Life, so much, and have wished for it for so long, but you'd give it up, to be with them in a world that does not want you... You have a brave heart."

You took the compliment. "Thanks. Now let's find this damn portal, shall we? I've got a couple more ribs to bust."

Tag List: @tesserphantom​ @thedragonghostofmordor​

@taurlel​ @hauntedsiriel​

[xxbyimm]

Enya’s unexpected journey - Chapter 24

For other chapters of this Journey: Enya’s unexpected journey. Or check out my Masterlist!

To be honest, the task of portraying Thorin's dragon sickness felt daunting. My initial plan was to do one chapter before moving to the rest of the story, but I felt I wouldn't do him justice if I rushed this part too much, so I’ll do two parts on this instead. Thank you @fizzyxcustard​ for advising me, love you! <3

As for now, buckle up bitches! ;D xoxo

Chapter 24

Summary: Smaug is slain and Erebor is safe. Though Enya should rejoice, she can’t help but to feel an uneasiness creeping into her bones. 

Warnings: Heartache. Angst. Swearing. Physical assault.

Taglist: @soradragon​ @pistachiozombie​ @legolaslovely​ @tomisbaeholland​ @swoopswishsward​ @fizzyxcustard​ @deepestfirefun​ @ruthoakenshield​ @mariannetora​ @thequeenoferebor​ If you don’t wish to be tagged in Enya’s adventure, please let me know! Or if you’re not on the list and want to be tagged: check out my lists and I’d like to hear which list you want in on! 

‘I feel this is the beginning The beginning through the end’

‘I think she looks rather pale, what about you brother?’ A soft voice spoke. ‘Yeah.’ The second one agreed. He tried to sound stern, but one could hear the smile in his speech. ‘Honestly, I think she looks dashing. If we’re considering what she has been through.’ ‘You’re right.’ The first answered. ‘I do hope she wakes up soon.’

Enya groaned and then tried to move. Her limbs were heavy and felt restrained, tied up. Now that she mentioned that… She frowned. It did feel a bit uncomfortable. ‘Look! She’s moving!’ Someone cheered. ‘She’s a fighter, huh?!’ ‘Please, do not overcrowd her!’ A higher, more sophisticated voice that belonged to Bilbo Baggins fretted. ‘I doubt that she wants to see all of your ugly faces when she does wake up! The pure shock would send her straight to the dream realm again!’

‘Ugly?! Who did you call ugly?’ Gloín protested. ‘If he calls someone ugly in this room, it has to be you.’ Kíli laughed. Enya recognized the low chuckle of the golden haired son of Durin. ‘Since we’re Thorin’s nephews, Enya couldn’t possibly find us repulsive.’ The youngest prince of Durin added. ‘We can stay.’ ‘No you can’t!’ Oín scolded. ‘You’re awfully mouthy for someone who just has recovered himself. Besides, someone should find our king and tell him miss Blueheart is likely to wake up soon.’

There were some protests and angry muttering as the group of dwarves was shoved towards the door. ‘On that note…’ Bilbo mused. ‘Where is he?’ ‘Who?’ Oín inquired as he closed the door with a loud clank. Behind the wood, the lively chatter continued until it slowly faded away. ‘Thorin.’ The halfling said. ‘I would have expected him to stay at her side, but I haven’t seen him with her since he rushed to her when we brought her through the main gate...’

Thorin… A sharp ache stabbed her in the heart. She didn’t remember anything after her last strike. Smaug had been severely injured, but yet he had charged her with a vigor unlike any other. The thunder storm had found her and she allowed it to rage through her, but… She hadn’t been alone. Four spirits emerged. Four elements… What the hell?! Her eyelids fluttered and she managed to slightly open her eyes. Oín was standing on her right. She couldn’t see the hobbit, but she suspected he was sitting at her other side.

‘I guess he’s busy.’ Oín opted, not aware that his patient was waking up. ‘Or it’s too painful to see her like this.’ He glanced over at the halfling and heaved a sigh. ‘Please don’t look that shocked. Us dwarves aren’t used to show emotions like your kind does.’ ‘But she was badly hurt…’ Bilbo countered. ‘Wouldn’t he want to be there in case she-’ ‘If I would have thought she would die, he would have been right beside her.’ Oín grumbled. ‘Believe me.’

There was a short silence.

‘She’s healing remarkably fast.’ The physician murmured. ‘I’ve seen my fair share of burns, but she’s recovering like she’s got a mere graze. Soon she won’t need the bandages anymore. The only thing I’m worried about is that ugly scratch on her leg.’ ‘That must have to do something with her fire-witch roots, don’t you think?’ Bilbo said. ‘I mean-’ ‘Where the fuck am I?’ Enya muttered.

The halfling shot up and appeared in her view. He let out a relieved cry and grinned from ear to ear. Oín gave her one of his rare smiles and nodded. Her arms were bound in strips of cloth. She was neatly tucked in under a few blankets. Her left leg throbbed. ‘Welcome back, miss Enya.’ ‘Oh Enya, you’re back!’ Bilbo cried out, barely able to keep his excitement. ‘I was so worried about you! I didn’t dare to leave your side!’

Oh, dear Bilbo. Her heart ached again. She couldn’t wish for a better friend. After this whole journey, he had become very important to her.

‘What happened?’ she asked wearily as Oín carefully eased her up into a sitting position. She gritted her teeth when her every cell in her body screamed to leave her be. Well… she might be healing fast but she still felt like she was ran over by a truck. Like, four times. ‘Well…’ the old physician smiled. ‘Young lady, you killed the beast.’ ‘You were amazing.’ The halfling added. ‘You slayed him with a mightiest lightning bolt I’ve ever seen!’ ‘Thank you.’ She grimaced. ‘Wish it didn’t hurt this much though. How’s Bard doing?’ The hobbit and dwarf exchanged looks. ‘We do not know, miss.’ Oín replied. ‘He isn’t here, if that’s what you mean.’ Enya’s brows furrowed together. ‘I do not understand… They need shelter.’ Oín shrugged, but Bilbo looked rather anxious. Enya studied the halfling’s face. Something was up, but he didn’t want to share it in the presence of one of Thorin’s subjects.

‘Oín…’ she began while giving him her most charming smile. ‘Could you make me one of your tinctures that relieve pain? I could use some.’ The physician nodded shortly. ‘Yes, I could. I would need some strong liquor for that though. Let me see if I can find some in the kitchens.’

They watched as the dwarf walked through the door and closed it behind him. ‘Okay. So what’s really going on?!’ she hissed. Bilbo shook his head. ‘Not now, miss. You’re hurt. I’d rather have you focus on getting better first.’ She slumped back against the cushions, feeling exhausted already. ‘Fine, I yield. For now. Can you tell me how I killed that old fire-drake instead? My mind is kind of hazy from the moment I guided the lightning.’

Bilbo sat down on the stool beside her bed and began. After the thunderstorm had struck Enya, four identical figures had appeared by her side. At first, the halfling did not believe his own eyes and thought that he was hallucinating. But his vision had been clear as day. On each side of Enya two females stood proudly, looking exactly like the version in the middle. The only difference that the halfling did see, was the element each of them radiated. While the real Enya was surrounded by lightning, the other ones seemed to represent one of the four elements. Water and earth were standing on her left side, fire and air by her right. The elemental Enya’s raised their hands and mimicked their mistress’ pose. And with that, the bolt divided amongst them, thus protecting the real Enya Blueheart from the full blow.

Smaug had been badly injured, but still he seared majestically towards her. It must have been all the endorphins surging through his enormous body that gave him the strength for one last strike. Nevertheless, it only had taken a minute to finish him off when the lightning bolt hit him. Bilbo swallowed hard before telling her that the dragon’s final howl had been terrible and made the whole mountain shake on its’ foundation. Smaug himself was shuddering uncontrollably, his eyes rolling in their sockets as the electricity demolished everything in its’ way. Then, as it was nothing, the great beast fell from the sky. His body crashed on the ice. The latter gave in under al that weight, the water of the lake swallowing the fire-drake whole and pulling it towards the bottom.

As to the great fire-witch who was responsible for this death: her elemental counterparts had disappeared and miss Enya Blueheart collapsed down on the frozen lake. She did not stand up, nor did she revive when her comrades came to her aid and because Thorin wasn’t with them, Dwalin pulled her into his arms instead. The company took her to the infirmary, or that is, any place with a bed. Oín, Bofur, Fíli and Kíli had joined them hours later.

Though the corpse had sunk to the bottom of the lake, it still reeked outside of burned dragon flesh. The stench was so nauseating that everyone refused to go outside. The people of Laketown hadn’t showed up to the gates of Erebor yet, but Bilbo suspected that moment could come anytime now. There was no shelter but the lonely mountain- and these people were cold and starving.

‘Is Thorin already taking precautions for when they’ll arrive?’ Enya asked. ‘Surely we can house them all, but we have to get ready anyway…’ Bilbo shook his head and watched her face carefully, like he tried to fathom her thoughts. ‘I don’t think he will, miss.’ He shifted awkwardly on his stool. ‘He’s not…’ A dull ache spread through her spine and Enya’s mouth went dry. ‘Oh, please tell me.’ She assured her friend. ‘I know something is bothering you.’ ‘He’s not himself.’ The halfling whispered. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, but he seems different… More distant than the Thorin we know.’ ‘In what way?’ ‘I don’t know.’ Bilbo confessed. ‘We lose track of him all the time. He says our focus lies on finding the Arkenstone, so he makes us search every nook and cranny of this damned treasure room, which also reeks of dragon. When he’s not supervising our efforts, he’s wandering off to god knows where-’

The door was smashed open and they both shot up, startled. Enya winced and eased herself back into the soft pillows.

Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror was standing in the doorway. He had switched his usual attire to something more formal and majestic. The tunic had a deep blue color that complemented his eyes. Over that he wore a frock coat in a slightly darker shade. A black cloak adorned with fur in the same, dark shade hung around his shoulders. Heavy boots with steel toes and dark breeches perfected his attire. Though Thorin must have found it lying around in the mountain somewhere, everything looked like it was made just yesterday. Enya admired the golden threads that were applied in the hem of his shirt. If anything had felt ordinary about him at all, that now was gone. He looked absolutely breathtaking. ‘Love.’ The king breathed while eyeing her with a relieved expression. ‘You’re awake.’

Despite everything Enya had just heard, her heart skipped a beat and she felt a pleasant warmth spreading through her. Oh Thorin Oakenshield… He might not have been there to carry her into safety or when she woke up, but he must have come immediately after hearing the news from the others. That at least sounded like him.

‘I’ll leave you two.’ Bilbo said quickly and he jumped on his feet. He gave Thorin a respectful nod and slipped behind him through the doorway. The latter one raised a brow, but then decided to let it pass and he closed the door. ‘He’s been acting strange lately.’ He murmured at himself while taking a seat on the edge of Enya’s bed. ‘What were you talking about earlier?’ he then inquired matter-of-factly without making eye contact. Enya observed him and as she did so, a smile crept across her face. He was looking so majestic, that his presence felt a bit weird. The room, which was only filled with a wooden bed, a table, four chairs and a stool, was too simple for him. He belonged on his throne in the throne room down below, not in a hastily set up infirmary. Enya blinked slowly. But yet he was here.

‘Nothing too special, I guess.’ Enya finally murmured, her eyes falling shut. ‘Bilbo filled me in on my latest escapades.’ ‘You don’t remember?’ She shook her head. ‘Nothing after I got hold of the lightning bolt, no.’ Thorin’s hand found hers, his rough thumb caressing the bandage above her knuckles. It still was amazing to her how such thick fingers managed to handle stuff so carefully and gently at the same time. Something inside her stirred. ‘You were truly magnificent.’ Thorin confided in her. ‘I regret not trusting you earlier. You have proven to me you’re perfectly capable of handling dangerous foes on your own.’ Enya smirked. ‘I know you hate to hear this, but… I told you so.’ The king chuckled lowly. ‘I’ve never seen so much power and strength combined in someone, I’m impressed. Do you know how-’ he hesitated. ‘How I made the other Enya’s?’ she filled in.

There was a short silence. Enya opened her eyes. He was still sitting the same position, his sapphire orbs watching her intently. The strokes had stopped, though he was still holding her. She licked her lips. Never had she thought to see this day, where Thorin stop-being-so-rash-Enya Oakenshield did finally yield. Her stomach churned uncomfortably. She’d imagined to feel more satisfied than… unsettled, really.

‘I don’t.’ she then continued. ‘And I do not believe I called upon them at all. I think they knew what to do before I did.’ ‘It doesn’t matter.’ The king smiled encouragingly. ‘I can see you’re tired. You should get some sleep. Maybe it all comes back to you after a long rest.’ ‘But I’ve just woken up…’ she protested weakly, but she knew he was right. Her eyes were getting heavier with every moment. Though frustrating, it seemed she had to return to the world of imagination rather quickly. ‘You’re healing faster than we all thought you would.’ Thorin told her and she heard a layer of excitement in his low tone. ‘Which means your body needs its’ rest.’ ‘So they said.’ Enya sighed. ‘Then rest, love.’ He purred. She felt the bed move as Thorin stood up. His hand slipped away. So soon? She wanted him to stay while she slept because that made her feel so safe many times before… But he was probably too busy to do so. ‘Will you come back?’ she inquired drowsily. ‘Of course.’ He muttered and a gentle kiss was placed on her forehead. The short contact made her yearn for more, but he was already gone before she could tell him. ‘I always will come back for you.’ The king promised, sounding more far away now. ‘You know that.’

She listened to the sound of the door falling shut again. He was absolutely right. Before, she always had known that he would never leave her. But now… Something was different. A bitter aftertaste lingered in the air, like it tends to after you’ve been drinking too much and wake up the next morning with a solid hangover. The answer was on the tip of her tongue, but in her drowsy state she could not reach it yet. What she did know was that it didn’t matter how much she wanted to believe him that he still cared for her, like before.

She just couldn’t.

Enya recovered rather quickly, to much pleasure of her physician and the others. Oín was baffled by the fast pace in which her burned skin had healed. The only thing that remained was a Lichtenberg figure on her lower right arm- at least that was what they called such things on earth. A fiery red line started on her wrist and stretched up like a branch to her elbow. Though a part of her mourned for the loss of her untainted skin, she figured she earned her stripes and should wear them with pride. If it would bother her that much, she could always just cover it up.

The other thing that hadn’t healed as quickly, was the wound in her leg. Although Enya had ensured to Oín that she was fine (really!) and it didn’t hurt that much anyway, in reality it still seared with every move she made. Nevertheless, stubborn miss Enya Blueheart had enough of wasting away her time in bed, when there were far much more important things to do.

She had been wandering through one of the many corridors of Erebor for hours, unsure if getting lost in this labyrinth of passages was really an useful investment of her time. Her real goal had been to get to know at least one part of her new home, but all she really did was getting more lost by the minute. When she discovered yet another dead end, Enya sighed and crouched down on the ground. The wound in her leg was throbbing painfully and she wouldn’t be surprised if it had started to draw blood again. She didn’t dare to take a look. A faint smile crossed her face when she thought of the many times little Thorin must have gotten lost in here. Her own sense of direction was failing miserably, so she couldn’t imagine how someone with zilch skills in orientation would get by… A soft giggle escaped her.

‘Enya!’ Somewhere in the distance, Thorin’s low, distinguished tone resounded. She bit her lip to stay quiet. ‘Well my my…’ her mind mused. ‘Will this be the first day he’s actually able to FIND something?!’ ‘Yeah?’ she then called. ‘Mahal, I thought I’d never find you.’ she heard him mutter as his footsteps were nearing the place she sat.

Clapping her hands before her mouth, Enya choked back laughter. If Mahal was at it anyway, he could help her retaining a straight face….

‘Wat do you think you’re doing?’ Thorin informed sternly when he got her in sight. Oín told me you discharged yourself this morning.’ ‘I went exploring.’ She told him. ‘Needed a change of scenery.’ The king chuckled and crouched down next to her. ‘I fear I can’t agree that this particular corridor is more appealing than the view from your bed…’ ‘Oh, do not fret! I wasn’t planning on staying here.’ she replied. ‘I just needed a little break.’

His hand moved to her breeches and a sharp sting shot through her leg. Enya flinched. Even in this dimly lit corridor she knew he could see that the fabric near the wound indeed was drenched in blood.

‘Enya.’ Thorin growled. ‘You’ve been putting too much pressure on that wound for the last few hours.’ ‘Did not!’ she hissed. ‘I can look after myself. Don’t you have more useful stuff to do?’ He huffed. ‘Making sure the queen understands her duties is one of my top priorities.’ he told her before reaching out and lifting her into his arms with ease. ‘My duties?’ Enya protested. ‘Put me down! I can walk!’ ‘No, you’re not walking anywhere anymore until that wound on your leg has properly healed.’ The king insisted as he took her in what she assumed was the direction of the infirmary again. ‘Injuries like this need time and a vast amount of patience from the injured. And by that I mean it’s your duty to rest and heal.’ ‘I don’t have time for this!’ She complained, but she threw her arms around his neck anyway. ‘We have to prepare for the people of Laketown! We-’ ‘That’s none of your concern right now.’ Thorin interrupted. ‘May I remind you that you killed Smaug only yesterday?’ ‘Yeah and a whole town of people is coming this way.’ Enya snapped. ‘They need help.’ ‘I’ll deal with that.’ He grumbled. ‘You already contributed enough by killing Smaug.’ ‘But it’s also my responsibility-’ ‘Enough!’ Thorin rebuked. His grip on her tightened, his hand clasping her left thigh firmly. ‘T-Thorin.’ She whined. Her fingers dug into his neck, squeezing with equal force. ‘What!’ he barked, glaring through her. ‘You’re hurting me.’ She hissed through clenched teeth. His expression changed. The harshness from earlier disappeared and made room for a certain softness in his eyes she was more acquainted with. His mouth twisted slightly. ‘Forgive me. I did not mean to.’ He murmured. ‘I just meant to say you’ll encounter plenty of opportunities to prove your worth, but this will not be today. Today you will rest.’ ‘Prove my worth?!’ The words prickled on her tongue, leaving a bad aftertaste. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?!’ ‘Figure of speech.’ The king muttered. ‘Do not pick apart every word.’ ‘I kind of have to, when you keep speaking in riddles.’ She replied.

They already were at the infirmary’s door again. Wait what? Enya turned her head and watched the direction they came from. How the hell she could have missed that? Thorin seemed to understand her thoughts, as he heaved a sigh before he carefully put her on her feet.

‘This place is a maze.’ He informed her. ‘Next time, I might not be able to find you as fast as I did now.’ ‘So you think there will be a next time, huh?’ she said with a smirk, carelessly leaning against the doorpost. She flinched when her leg protested in the form of a sharp sting. Thorin watched her with narrowed eyes. ‘Somehow I can’t shake this feeling that it doesn’t matter how many times I bring you back there…’ he mused. ‘You will slip out the moment I turn anyway.’ Enya shrugged, knowing that she’d probably would sleep for a few hours first before doing that. ‘What would you like to hear, my king?’ ‘The truth.’ ‘Fine.’ She gave in. ‘Then, yes. I probably will.’ ‘What do I have to do to get you to listen to me?’ he grumbled. ‘I’ve heard you’re a great diplomat.’ She suggested with a wink. ‘You can work it out.’ A trace of a smile appeared on his face. ‘Are you flirting with me?’ ‘I’m always flirting with you.’ She purred. ‘Can’t seem to help it, I suppose.’ Thorin gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Then his fingers followed the soft curve of her jaw, the featherlight touch causing goosebumps all over her body. She briefly wondered how on earth he always was capable of making her feel this way, but then the thought evaporated as he leaned in and kissed her.

Though it was nothing like the long, heated making out sessions they were quite familiar with, this kiss surely did what it had to. Enya lost track of all other senses but one. She moaned when Thorin suddenly, too soon, pulled away. Sapphire burned into pale blue. Dear mahal, would she ever not be a panting mess of female hormones? She exhaled shakily. ‘Try to sleep.’ He finally spoke. ‘I’ll be back in a few hours.’ ‘Sure.’ She murmured while watching her One striding away. ‘I can try…’

After a good deal of tossing, turning and being fussed over by a particular judgmental physician, Enya managed to get some of the advised sleep. When she finally woke up, her leg wasn’t as painful as it felt a few hours ago (yay for heavy pain medication!), but Thorin still wasn’t there. She knew he’d always kept his promises, so she waited.

Patiently, at first. But after she had checked her appearance for the zillionth time, and tried to convince herself that he’d never seen her wearing eye makeup so it didn’t really matter if she thought her face looked bleak… She was fed up with the nervous tingles in her stomach. For God sakes! It wasn’t like she was going on a date with this dwarf, nor was she an helpless lady who needed to wait for her chaperone. If her fiancé had forgotten about their agreement already, then she’d…

‘Fiancé…’ she murmured to herself. ‘That does sound ridiculous, doesn’t it. I mean, I’m only… twenty-four- I mean fucking eighty-nine.’ Eighty-nine… that was still young, right.

Right?!

Enya heaved a sigh and gave herself a last look in the hand mirror Bilbo had fetched for her. She still missed her cat-eye look, but other than that she was doing fairly okay. She put the mirror on her bed and made for the door. If Thorin wasn’t coming for her, she might as well find her other favorite lads and see how they were doing. Besides, she still had not seen the enormous pile of gold and gems in Smaug’s former hoard.

Just when she grabbed the door handle, the wooden surface was pushed in her direction. ‘Fucking hell!’ she cried out while jumping backwards. The wound in her leg protested and Enya winced. Thorin was standing in the door opening, and he looked rather amused. ‘What are you up to?’ he inquired. ‘I thought I said I was coming back.’ ‘Yeah well, you’re late.’ She accused him as she gently rubbed her leg. The king merely lift a brow. ‘Did we discuss a time?’ Enya huffed. ‘Not precisely, though I’m open to debate the true meaning of the concept you stated as “a few hours”.’ ‘Just like I said.’ He answered. ‘A few hours.’ ‘Two, four, a hundred… What is time to a king anyway, eh?’ she jested. ‘Is that a new habit of yours, to keep the ladies waiting?’ Thorin smirked. ‘One of the kingly duties, I’m afraid.’ ‘You’re an ass.’ She muttered under her breath. Thorin gently pulled her into his embrace. ‘That’s no way to speak to a king…’ ‘Accept my sincerest apologies, then.’ She replied with the straightest face she could manage. ‘I did not mean to offend your highness.’ ‘Somehow I do not believe that…’ he said. ‘But no matter. Do you want to see something worthwhile?’ Enya watched him. His sapphire eyes were twinkling with joy and a boyish grin appeared. Good gracious, now she knew where Fíli and Kíli got that charm from. How was she supposed to decline when he looked at her like that?

‘Sure…’ she began, but then shrieked as he swept her from the ground and into his arms. ‘Seriously Thorin… this again?’ ‘I told you. No walking.’ He insisted. ‘Now, grab a hold of me.’ She laughed and obliged. ‘So you’re going to carry me around the mountain like a sack of potatoes?’ ‘That’s a rather unflattering comparison.’ Thorin said. ‘I’d say you look nothing like a potato.’ ‘Oh my king, you flatter me!’ she chirped. ‘Is that a compliment?!’ ‘Though potatoes are rather tasty…’ he remarked. ‘Ah, there it is!’ Enya exclaimed. ‘So on a scale of potato to fire-witch, how tasty am I?’ Thorin pondered for a while and then shrugged. ‘That depends on my mood.’ ‘You’re unbelievable.’ She sniggered. ‘It shouldn’t even be a-’ Her words got lost as he kissed her fondly. ‘I wish I had the time to show you all the secrets I discovered when I grew up here...’ Thorin whispered against her lips. ‘You mean like the hidden passage in Thraín��s library?’ Enya informed sweetly. She still hadn’t forgotten how he tried to lock her up in it. ‘I think I will pass.’ The king chuckled. ‘That wouldn’t be a surprise anymore, would it? No, since we only can do some of the highlights, we surely won’t visit my father’s library…’

Their first stop was the treasure room, former home of Smaug. Though the lair still reeked of dragon, if you’d breath through your mouth, the sight was magnificent. The vast hall was filled with an ocean of golden coins, gems and other valuables objects. ‘Oh!’ Enya gasped as she took in the immensity of the wealth beneath her, not knowing where to look. Dozens of torches were placed through the hall. The treasure glittered in the soft, yellow light. Mahal, the beauty! She wasn’t the first of her race to admire the exquisiteness of the treasure of Erebor and she surely wouldn’t be the last…

Thorin had let her down on one of the lower balconies, the one before the last flight of stairs. Still, she was way too high above the ground for her liking. She suppressed a shudder and took a step back, leaning against her One. There, for a moment in his arms, she felt home.

‘Isn’t this worth all the trouble we went through?’ he inquired softly in her ear. An hint of excitement in his tone betrayed how pleased he was. Enya glanced behind her. Thorin Oakenshield stood proudly, watching his treasure with a content expression of a dwarf who has reached his one of his most desired goals. Just like the gold before them, the flames glistered in his eyes. He looked more majestic than ever in his heavy mantle. Her heart fluttered.

‘I believe it is.’ She concluded, leaning backwards to place a kiss on his cheek. ‘Please don’t mind me asking… but what should we do with it?’ ‘Protect it, of course.’ The king replied shortly. ‘We came from too far to just let go of it again.’ She stepped away and studied his sharp profile. Something in the back of her mind prickled. ‘Protect against whom?’ ‘You know who.’ Thorin growled. ‘That’s why I gave Dwalin and a few others the task of fortifying the main entrance again. We don’t need unwanted visitors.’ ‘You mean the people of Laketown?’ she guessed. ‘Amongst others.’ Enya heaved a weary sigh. ‘Thorin, that’s not fair. They are not-’ ‘Will you be quiet-’ he said with gritted teeth. ‘-THE ENEMY-’ ‘-I SAID QUIET!’ Thorin raged. Enya put her hands on her hips and braced herself. ‘I will not remain silent if you’re going to be this unjust!’ ‘Hush!’ The king barked. ‘You know what is unfair? When a dragon takes away your home, burning everyone and everything you’ve ever known in the process! YOU KNOW WHAT’S UNJUST? ROAMING THESE LANDS, SEARCHING FOR A WAY TO SURVIVE!’ ‘Precisely my point!’ She snarled. ‘Don’t let others suffer the fate our kin was forced to. Tell me, what’s the difference between Smaug destroying Erebor compared to Laketown?’

Thorin closed and opened his eyes. His breathing was ragged, his hands balled into fists. He muttered something under his breath, but Enya couldn’t make out the words. ‘What’s that?’ she asked. ‘Do tell me.’ ‘I SAID’ he hissed. ‘That they had it coming.’

She wanted to make a sharp remark about others who should have seen their fate coming, but she knew that was below the belt. He wouldn’t forgive her if she said it. Not even for the sake of making a point. So instead she drew in a long breath and bit on her tongue. Thorin watched her, his eyes glittering with anger. ‘Where does your loyalty lie?’ he seemed to ask wordlessly.

‘As much as that may be true...’ She finally managed to say. ‘We brought it on them.’ Thorin brushed with his hands as if he was shooing an unpleasant insect. ‘That dragon would have awoken anyway.’

She watched as he paced back and forth on the balcony. ‘But all of that won’t matter unless we find the Arkenstone.’ He muttered while gesturing vaguely in a random direction. ‘There has to be a faster way to sort through our gold…’ ‘So, we know for certain…’ she treaded carefully. ‘that this is the place where it was last seen?’ The king nodded shortly. ‘According to my calculations, it still should be here… somewhere. I don’t suspect that vile beast would’ve moved it.’ ‘That seems fair.’ She agreed. ‘I don’t think Smaug ever dreamt of having to hide it anyway.’

She looked down and eyed the treasure once more. Her legs shook slightly. ‘I don’t think there’s a fast way to find this jewel… It could be anywhere.’ Thorin took a step forward and eyed the pile directly below them. ‘We have to search…’ he murmured. ‘But that will take weeks, if not months…’ ‘Do not stand near the edge.’ Enya said nervously as she tried to control her trembling limbs. ‘You have the powers of the wind.’ Thorin told her with a shrug. ‘Even if you would fall, your instincts would save you. I saw it with my own eyes. There’s nothing to be afraid of.’ ‘Easier said than done.’ She said unhappily. ‘Even fighting a-’ ‘Wind!’ The king suddenly cheered. ‘Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?’ ‘Sorry, what?!’ Enya faltered.

Thorin lunged forward and swept her from her feet. ‘You!’ he beamed. ‘You, my beautiful queen, are the solution to everything!’ ‘Everything?!’ she repeated. ‘Er- That’s a bit… too much credit isn’t it?!’ ‘Do you think you could do it?’ he said, breathlessly. He was gazing at her, beaming with joy and the biggest smile she’d ever seen on his face. She stared back, completely dumbfounded.

Hello, mister mood swings. Excuse me if I don’t follow…

‘Eh- I could try…’ she gulped. ‘I mean, I guess. Can’t promise-’ He rewarded her with a kiss that took her breath away. ‘So that’s settled then.’ He whispered against her lips. ‘When you’ve healed enough, you will find the Arkenstone for me…’

‘Mahal, Thorin! No!’

Her laugh vibrated through the room. The last stop of Thorin’s tour of highlights turned out to be the royal quarters. His outburst from earlier seemed to be long forgotten, because the king was beaming as he showed her the places in which the majority of his childhood had taken place. The walk in closet in his sister Dís’ bedroom was magnificent and Enya could not stop gawking at all the rows of beautiful dresses that still hung there on the racks. Only a layer of dust betrayed that the owner hadn’t worn them for a long time. Most of them, as Thorin informed her, turned out to be new.

Somehow the king also convinced her to try something on. She had protested at first (‘these are not mine, they probably won’t fit anyway’), but once Thorin had given her the famous puppy eyed look that Kíli obviously learned from his uncle, she obliged.

‘Oh come on.’ The king encouraged her. He was occupying the bed and waited impatiently for his One to show up. ‘Let me see.’ ‘Promise you won’t laugh.’ Enya begged. ‘Why would I possibly do that?’ She snorted. ‘Because I look absolutely ridiculous!’ ‘That’s not possible.’ ‘Oh no?’

Enya took a deep breath and twirled around the corner. She had chosen a pink, lacy dress that had looked pretty on the hanger, but on her body… The neckline was too high for her liking and was adorned with a huge, pinkish ribbon. Ruffles decorated her shoulders and parts of the skirt. Tiny ribbons were sewn all over the fabric, making the overall result a little bit… too much. ‘Well?’ she winked while planting her hands on her hips. ‘What do you think?!’ Thorin bit on his lip, but the corners of his mouth already curved into an ominous grin. ‘It’s-’

‘Don’t you dare Oakenshield!’ She warned, but it was already too late. Thorin threw his head back and burst into laughter. Enya watched as the sensations consumed him whole. It was a deep, rumbling sound that eased the tightness in her chest and she couldn’t help but smile helplessly like a total idiot.

But still… he had made a promise…

‘You promised not to make fun of me!’ she shrieked and she jumped on the bed, toppling over her One. A sharp jolt of pain surged through her leg, but she ignored it. ‘Forgive me…’ he panted between two fits. ‘I told you!’ she giggled, placing a hand on each side of his head. ‘This thing is too extra! Look at all that lace!’ ‘Uzfakuh…’ he grinned. ‘You are truly suffocating me with all that fabric. You should try another one.’ ‘And be your main source of entertainment again?!’ she mused. ‘Not before you apologize. Or… choke to death. Your choice.’ ‘The fact that the dress is a monstrosity has nothing to do with you, my queen.’ Thorin told her with a fond smile, while his hands grazed her bum. ‘You are always breathtaking.’ ‘Now, now.’ She muttered. ‘Look who’s being king charming in the flesh.’ ‘A king charming?’ he replied with a grin. ‘Technically in the fairytale he was a prince.’ She told him. ‘But you’re no prince, so…’

Her left leg throbbed. A soft hiss escaped her and Enya rolled off her king, to her right side. Thorin narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and placed a sweet kiss on her lips. Enya heaved a sigh and melted in his embrace.

She must have dozed off, because once she woke up again it was already getting dark. Enya woke with a shiver and soon discovered why. Thorin had disappeared. She pushed herself in an upright position and glanced through the room.

Where did he slip off to?

With a groan she got up and fiddled with the laces of the dress. Of course she should look for him, but not in this ridiculous thing. She walked into Dís’ closet and scanned the racks. Thorin had been clear that he did not like the rags (as he called it) Bard had sent her off in and her favorite pair of skinny jeans was either turned to ashes or at the bottom of the lake, so as a future queen she’d better find something more suitable. She dropped the heavy, pink fabric on the floor and went through the options. Most dresses were too chic for everyday wear, but in the back she found a simple, midnight blue dress with long, loose sleeves. A cord adorned with golden thread was tied around the waist. It was almost too Elvish to be a part of the royal wardrobe of the princess of Erebor, but Enya liked it. She carefully took it from its’ place, patted the dust away and put it on.

She whirled around and gasped when she suddenly saw Thorin leaning in the doorway. ‘Mahal!’ she cried out. ‘Where have you been?’ ‘You’d think I would let my fire-witch all alone out there?’ He replied with a faint smile. ‘After what happened yesterday?’ She shrugged. ‘That doesn’t answer my question.’ ‘I had to verify a thought.’ He gave in. ‘To be sure.’ ‘Care to tell me what it was?’ ‘A place where the Arkenstone might have slid into.’ Thorin obliged with a slightly tensed undertone in his voice. ‘You were sleeping anyway, so I didn’t think you would mind.’ She figured he did not find it, otherwise he would have been far more excited. ‘Nothing?’ He shook his head. ‘No.’ ‘It has to be somewhere in that huge pile of gold.’ Enya mused. ‘Or that ugly beast has swallowed it whole. I think I saw his belly radiate this strange, blue light when I killed him.’ In a split second, his face went from blank to horrified. Thorin surged forward and grabbed her shoulders. His fingers dug in her bones. ‘WHAT?!’ he roared. ‘YOU BETTER NOT TELL ME THAT YOU LET THAT VILE FIRE-DRAKE SINK DOWN THE LAKE WITH THE ARKENSTONE!’ ‘I was kidding, Thorin! A joke!’ She swore. ‘Stop that! You’re hurting me!’ ‘Oh.’ He said stiffly and his hands fell to his sides again. Then he took a step back. There was hurt clearly displayed his eyes. Enya sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I was just-’ ‘No matter.’ He said and he turned on his heels before pacing into the bedroom again. ‘I don’t expect you to understand what it means to me.’

Ouch. All she had wanted was to lighten the mood, but it was clear she had struck a vein instead. Enya followed him pulled him into her arms. Though he did allow the move, he didn’t embrace her back like he usually did. Her heart ached. ‘Maybe I don’t fully understand, no.’ she whispered against his chest. ‘But I meant no harm.’ ‘I know that.’ Thorin grumbled, but his jaw was set and a vein in his temple throbbed.

Did he?!

Enya kissed him on his unrelenting jaw. ‘You know.’ She began softly. ‘We’re in this together. I don’t want to you carry all the responsibility of this kingdom on your own, but then I need you to let me in.’ ‘I have told you already that this task isn’t yours to bear.’ Thorin insisted. ‘You’ve honored your part of the bargain and killed the dragon. Now I need you to rest up.’ ‘I’m doing that right now, am I not?’ ‘Barely.’ The king reiterated. ‘You’re running off to Mahal knows where every time I turn my back! I have far more important stuff to do than making sure you’re where you’re supposed to!’ ‘I know, forgive me.’ Thorin glared at her. ‘I need to forgive you a lot.’ She smiled innocently. ‘I just want to make myself useful. And lying in bed all day waiting for my leg to heal properly, doesn’t count.’ ‘You could try to search through the treasure room.’ He opted. ‘If that isn’t too tedious for you.’ ‘Of course I can do that!’ she shot back. ‘But you said that I-’ ‘No.’ he interrupted her. ‘You and opinionated self have proved to be healthy enough to roam through Erebor, so I think you can manage this unimportant task.’ ‘For God sakes’, Thorin!’ she cried out while letting him go. ‘I said I was sorry! And you’re the one who dragged me through Erebor today!’ ‘My mistake.’ He hissed. ‘I didn’t mean to bore you with my childhood background.’

Enya swallowed hard. He was standing proudly before her, arms crossed and a terrifying scowl displayed on his face. His sapphire eyes were cold and harsh. She didn’t know what had caused him to switch, but now everything that came out of her mouth seemed to set him off. She probably should tread with care, but she wanted answers. And if he was mad at her already, well… She cleared her throat.

‘I know the Arkenstone is the only thing that will give you the right to rule over all the dwarf clans, but why do we need that right now?’ ‘Why?’ he mocked and shook his head. ‘Clearly you know nothing of warfare.’ ‘Well it wasn’t a subject I got tutored in school, no.’ She shot back. ‘So enlighten me, please.’ ‘Are you really that arrogant to think that other’s aren’t eyeing the lonely mountain?’ he spat. ‘Once the word spread that Smaug’s dead, they will flock Erebor like vultures!’ ‘Only more reason to give the people of-’ ‘SHUT UP!’ ‘-PEOPLE OF LAKETOWN REFUGE BECAUSE-’ ‘-I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP ABOUT THE PEOPLE OF THAT ACCURSED TOWN!’ he boomed. ‘How can I shut up about numerous starving humans, Thorin?’ she seethed. ‘How am I supposed to do that?’ ‘If you’re attached to them and that bowman so much, maybe you should join them.’ Thorin rebuked. ‘We will not let that filth into our home.’ ‘Filth?!’ she repeated. ‘That filth you speak of was kind enough to grant you passage over the lake and take you into hís home!’ ‘Only after demanding all of our money.’ Thorin growled. ‘He left us with no choice. There’s no honor in that.’ ‘And how about upholding your own?’ Enya sassed. ‘You gave them your word!’

There was a short silence. Thorin’s eyes now flashed with anger and Enya had to resist the urge to look away. Though he wasn’t much taller than her, his demeanor was frightening. It seemed like he towered over her, his scowl sending her in the deepest pit of shame.

They had fought many times, but she had never feared him before, for the simple reason that she knew he cared for her. It never had been his goal to hurt her -or worse- humiliate her. But now she didn’t know what he wanted. As Thorin, son of Thraín, son of Thrór, stood before her in all his might, she instinctively knew that he would do anything to keep his beloved mountain and the treasure in it to himself. He would hurt anyone who dared to get in his way. Even his queen.

For dwarves covet gold more than anything… It’s a fierce love… And theirs would not be enough…

‘Are you against me, Enya?!’ he finally hissed. ‘What kind of question is that?!’ she retorted. ‘Why would I be?’ ‘Because you refuse to see it my way.’ ‘I refuse to see anyone’s way if they stuck their head in the sand, thank you very much!’ she bit back. ‘If it’s true what we should fear incoming armies from others, then we have all the more reason to protect the people that have nothing to do with it!’ ‘And having them prance through the halls of my forefathers?’ Thorin scoffed. ‘Despicable.’ She gritted her teeth. ‘I don’t think they’re in any shape to prance.’ ‘Do not mock me, miss Blueheart.’ ‘I merely try to help you!’ she swore, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. ‘Help?!’ Thorin taunted. ‘You really think I would need help from you, you insolent girl?!’

Enya gasped for air and took a step back. Before, he’d only called her names when he reached the outmost borders of his patience, mostly followed by a passionate kiss. He never meant what he said, at least not really. But this… This was heartfelt and downright vicious.

‘That’s what you think of me?’ she breathed, but Thorin ignored her. ‘I did not need your help when I lead my kin to victory at the battle of Azalnulbizar, after I lost not only my grandfather, but also my brother.’ He said hotly. ‘I did not need YOUR HELP when I built a new life for them in the blue mountains. And I SURELY DID NOT NEED YOU ON THIS QUEST!’ ‘Thorin, that’s enough. Stop it.’ She whimpered. ‘I beg you.’ ‘No.’ he snapped. ‘I have warned you many times before. You are being disrespectful and it’s time you learn.’

Cold chills ran down her spine and her throat went dry. Her heart hammered in her chest and she swallowed hard. This wasn’t good. At all. ‘Learn what?’ she inquired carefully while taking another step backwards. She didn’t want to admit it just yet, but in the back of her mind she was thinking of safe places to run to.

‘That I am not one to be trifled with.’ The king growled as he watched her backing away from him. ‘You are scaring me.’ She said quietly.

He didn’t seem to hear her, because he already surged forward and pushed her against one of the sturdy bed poles. It creaked violently as it both of their weights crashed into it. The carved wood poked in her back and Enya whined. Thorin seemed to move mechanically. There was no love in his eyes, no tenderness. All she could see was a harsh, lustful glare as he intended to take what was his... His mouth sucked on the soft flesh of her neck before biting hard on her shoulder bone, his hands were clawing in the seams of her skirt, rucking it upwards.

But Enya was in no mood for a session of hot, angry lovemaking. He had intended to hurt her in a truly awful way and though that should be bad enough alone, he still had the audacity to make demands. Didn’t he know that the body isn’t as nearly as willing when the mind is severely occupied? If she was to be his wife, he needed to understand that there were boundaries. And king or not, fear or no fear, Enya could not accept someone behaving like a disrespectful asshole towards her. Thorin was no Jason. And if he turned out to be just like that, she’d rather be alone.

‘No.’ she told him firmly, while pushing him away. ‘Not like this.’ He immediately stumbled backwards. His expression was pained, like she had actually slapped him in the face. ‘You…’ he mumbled. ‘You’re not you! I don’t know who this person is, Thorin.’ She managed to tell him, though tears were straining her eyes and her throat was thick with emotion. ‘But this is not the dwarf I know and whom I love!’

Without waiting for his response, she turned away and broke into a run. Her leg hurt, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. Tears blurred her vision and she had no idea where she was going. She dashed through stairs, hallways and rooms without noticing. She ran until she was out of breath. She ran until the pain in her leg became unbearable. Only then did she allow herself to stop long enough to lift her skirt and view the damage she had done. The wound had torn open again and thick blood gushed through the slash.

Desperately, Enya crashed down the floor and wept.

‘Miss Enya.’ A voice whispered near her ear. ‘Are you awake?’

‘Wha-?’ she murmured.

‘Miss Enya!’ the voice insisted and at the same time two hands groped her shoulders and shook her awake. ‘It’s me!’

With a shriek she shot up, knocking over something that gave a soft cry in the process. A thud followed. Her flames filled the palms of her hands and drowsily she looked around, but nothing was there.

Huh. This was strange. She remembered being absolutely exhausted from all the running and crying, and passing out somewhere in Erebor. But it seemed that she was back in the infirmary after all, safely tucked under the covers. She shifted on the soft mattress. Really, she had to stop this ridiculous habit of waking up in places and forgetting how she had ended up there. Or stop the person who dared to move her around.

A fleeting memory brushed past her consciousness. Sturdy arms, picking her up and enveloping her against a hardened chest. Soft mumbling, a kiss against her temple. The covers rushing as she was gently being tucked into bed. Lips against her cheek, a calloused hand caressing her hair. A whisper. ‘Forgive me...’

Thorin…?

‘Who’s there? What time is it?’ she groaned. ‘I swear to Mahal, if that’s you Thorin, you’d better have a long apology prepared or there’s the door.’

‘It’s me!’ Bilbo Baggins revealed. ‘Where the fuck are you?’ ‘Next to your bed.’ The halfling replied unhappily. ‘You knocked me over.’ ‘Oh shit, I’m so sorry!’ Enya whispered and she peered over the edge of the bedframe. The hobbit was lying on the wooden floor and he smiled encouragingly at her. ‘Oh fuck! I didn’t mean to hurt you!’ Enya apologized. ‘Doesn’t matter, no harm’s done.’ Bilbo hushed. ‘I was the one scaring you anyway, so I should’ve seen that one coming.’

He crawled up and took a seat next to her on the bed. Enya did bend forward and gave her friend a hug before making room for him to sit more comfortably. The fact that the halfling did not object against a cuddle from his favorite fire-witch like he usually did, told her he was in great distress. ‘Oh Bilbo…’ she murmured. ‘You’re sure you’re okay?’ ‘Fine, fine.’ He said. ‘I’ll manage. How are you?’ ‘My leg is still hurting, but that isn’t strange considered I ran through Erebor today for God knows how long.’ She answered while she stretched her legs. The wound throbbed. ‘Where did you find me?’ ‘In here, in your bed.’ Bilbo said. ‘No one has seen you after you and Thorin went upstairs to the royal quarters. What happened?’

Enya’s mind traveled back towards the events that happened earlier today. Tears prickled behind her eyes and she swallowed hard. ‘Thorin and I…’ she began. ‘One moment we were so happy, flirting and laughing… and then the next…’ ‘He changes.’ The halfling whispered. She nodded vigorously. ‘Yes. There’s this switch and I don’t know what causes him to flip it, but…’ she suppressed a shiver. ‘He changes into this vicious person I don’t know. I mean…’ she sniffled. ‘I know we quarrel sometimes-’ Bilbo let out a disbelieving snort. ‘Okay a lot- but before I always knew that he cared for me and he would never harm me in any way. But right now, he scares me! He seems to intend to hurt me in the cruelest way possible, just because I try to help him!’

‘It’s worse than I feared.’ Bilbo mumbled. ‘I’ve been watching him for quite some time now and… I noticed too that things are not well, miss.’ ‘What did you see?’ Enya asked. She knew she didn’t want to hear the answer, but it slowly daunted on her that she had to. It was the disease Thorin had told her about, the one he had feared succumbing to his entire life. It was slowly consuming him, taking over his mind. He wouldn’t be able to resist it on his own…

‘He’s down there all the time.’ The hobbit told her. ‘In the treasure room.’ She winced. ‘Since when?’ ‘It started around the time we brought you back into Erebor.’ The halfling explained. ‘Once he met us at the main entrance had made sure you were going to be alive and well, he was off.’ ‘He said he was busy.’ She mused. ‘I thought he was making plans to defend ourselves against outsiders or even how to rebuild this grand kingdom…’ ‘None of that, I’m afraid.’ Bilbo grumbled. ‘All he does is walking in circles and talking to himself. I can’t make out what he says exactly, but he seems to repeat the words gold and Arkenstone all the time.’ ‘Oh Bilbo…’ she cried. ‘What should we do?’ ‘I don’t know.’ He said as he awkwardly reached out and rubbed her arm. ‘I wish I knew.’

They sat there in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Enya thought of Thorin, surrounded by treasure and muttering nonsense under his breath. She was losing him. A crippling fear crept around her heart and she found it difficult to breathe. What if she could not save him? What if she failed? She’d never forgive herself that… What was it worth to live after killing Smaug, when she knew that the costs were Thorin’s to pay?

‘I spoke with Balin today.’ Bilbo broke the silence. ‘What?’ Enya whispered absentmindedly. ‘I found him in a rather.. desperate state. In one of the storage rooms.’ The hobbit mumbled as he stared at the wall in opposite of them. ‘We discussed a theory.’ He swallowed hard. ‘You can tell me.’ She told him. ‘What did you two talk about?’ ‘You must promise me that you won’t tell Thorin.’ Bilbo squeaked. ‘Because if he knows, I’m… He’ll…’ ‘You’d think I’d betray my friend?’ she gasped in disbelief. ‘He’s your One, your king.’ The halfling replied. ‘You’re bound to him, even more than any of us.’ ‘I think my duties as future queen are to protect the king even when it’s against himself.’ She vowed. ‘The king is not in his right mind and I know you’ll do as much to save him as I would. You’re one of my dearest friends, Bilbo. I’d never betray you.’ ‘Thank you.’ Her friend said quietly. ‘I knew you’d say that.’ ‘Then why did you ask?’ she smiled faintly. ‘To be sure.’ He confessed. ‘Because I… I have found the Arkenstone.’

‘Excuse me?!’ she gulped. ‘You did what?!’ ‘Ssssh!’ Bilbo hissed while watching the door, though it was silent on the other side. ‘Keep it down!’ ‘Sorry!’ she whispered. ‘I just… WHAT THE HELL BILBO?!’ ‘Let me explain!’ he said feverishly. ‘Right after my almost fatal encounter with Smaug, I managed to get a hold of the Arkenstone. I’ve been carrying it with me since then, but I did not know if I should tell Thorin or not…’ ‘To hell you don’t!’ Enya hissed. ‘That will only trigger him! I joked about knowing its’ whereabouts today and he went crazy!’ Bilbo flinched. ‘That’s what Balin said. I… I asked him theoretically speaking, what would happen if the king’s jewel was found.’ ‘And what did he say?’ ‘He said he feared it would make everything worse.’ Enya licked her lips. ‘I’ve got the same feeling. He must never find that wretched thing.’ ‘So what should we do with it then?!’ The halfling fretted. ‘I can’t keep it forever…’ ‘We’ll figure something out.’ She whispered. ‘Listen, what if we…’

Thank you so much for reading my humble story. Feedback is always welcome.  Next up… more gold sickness... I’m not sure if I can take more... Alas the characters have more heartbreak for us in store.

Did you love Enya? Spread the love and reblog this chapter! :) For the rest of her journey: Enya’s story or check out my Masterlist.

[fizzyxcustard]

Thoughts Of You (Part 2)

Part 1

Fandom: Richard Armitage RPF

Summary: From the imagine of ‘Imagine Richard is in a loveless relationship but can’t stop thinking about you’. In the first part, Richard broke up with his girlfriend, forcing her to leave their shared apartment. Now Richard is looking forward to seeing you. Part 2 requested by @patanghill17 @legolaslovely and @deepestfirefun

Pairings: Richard Armitage x Fem!Reader, Richard Armitage x OFC

Warnings: Angst, yearning, requited love (but not acted on), swearing, text harassment, mentions of overweight!reader, insecurity

Word count: 1379

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be added to my tag lists for a particular fandom, character, or even everything, please send me an ask or a private message and I will add you. This idea actually came into my head from looking at a GIF set of Lucas North. Your background with Richard and also the woman he’s with have been left open for you to fill in your own gaps.

Music inspiration/listened to for this piece: Piano music and rain sounds (3-hour video), found here. 

Masterlist of fan fiction here

As she left that night, taking only her essentials for now, and crying the whole way to the door, Richard tried not to look. She had mascara in streaks down her cheeks, paired with glistening tears. “Please, Rich,” she begged again, hesitantly reaching for the door knob.

“Just leave,” Richard said coldly, opening the door for her.

He watched her depart, the beginning of the end. No doubt she would come begging him to forgive her when she visited to pick up the remainder of her possessions. But Richard had already got a hard resolve in his gut. She would not sway him. The door was now open for him to follow his heart and seek out your light.

***

Your flight got into JFK airport the next morning. As all the passengers filed off, you yawned, bracing yourself for the immigration queue that was about to ensue. New York had always been one of your favourite destinations and whenever your work needed someone to visit, you were always the first to offer your help and volunteer to go. In actual fact, most of the time now, no one was even asked, apart from you. Your boss made sure your name was put forward.

Midtown Manhattan was to be your home for ten days, and you took the cab from JFK, like you normally did, to your hotel. It was the same place you always stayed; middle of the road, not too extravagant, but clean, with friendly staff and was somewhere you found comfortable.

When you had checked in, you made your way up to your room on the third floor, trailing your suitcase behind you. In the elevator, you shared the space with a young couple who were more interested in the taste of each other’s faces than you. You blushed and looked down, trying not to take too much notice of their public displays of affection. Instead you looked at your reflection in the mirror and looked down sadly. Slightly overweight. Nothing special.

It seemed like an age passed until there was the familiar ping!

The room was clean, the smell of polish and fresh sheets still hanging in the air.

The first thing you did, like always, was throw yourself on the bed, testing out the mattress. Ahh, Memory Foam! Always able to send you to sleep within minutes.

Your iPhone chimed loudly. You were hoping it was Richard, but instead it was an unknown number.

You’ve fucked with the wrong bitch. I know you’re seeing him behind my back.

What on earth? Seeing who? The number was international, so it was someone abroad, no doubt from the States.

Another text chimed.

Ha! You are one ugly bastard!

Your heart began to race, pounding and sending heat all around your body. Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks in both anger and sadness. Whoever would be sending you these disgusting insults?

And another text.

You are seriously joking to think he’d want you over me?

Were these texts even meant for you? Your hands shaking and you holding back sobs, you blocked the number.

Rain was falling outside your window now, and not even that relaxing, calm sound could cure you of the hurt and disrupted nerves. You sat down on the end of the bed, resting your hands on your thighs and let the tears fall. You knew you were ugly, fat and the kind of woman most men walked past without a second glance. And here you were, waiting to see Richard, an actor and absolutely beautiful man in all ways. What kind of planet were you living on to think he’d everconsider you?

As if on cue, your phone began to ring and Richard’s name flashed upon the screen.

“Umm, h…hello,” you stuttered, trying to gather your nerves and thoughts together properly.

“Are you okay?” his voice came back, concerned for you. He must have noticed the tremor in your voice.

And you sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore.

“Love, what’s wrong?” his voice came again. “Do you want me to come to you?”

“N…no. Don’t put yourself out for me, Rich. I’ll come and see you later. I just…”

“Just, what?” Richard pressed.

“Nothing,” you said softly. You sniffed, trying to push your hurt away. “Are you alright?”

“No, you’re not doing your usual and diverting the conversation,” Richard replied, chuckling.

His chuckle made you smile.

“I’ll get a cab up to you. Are you in the same hotel as usual?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

“Give me half an hour, and I’ll be with you.”

What you would give for this man to be a permanent part of your life. To feel his kindness every day, be enveloped by his compassion and held steadfast by his faithful nature. But he belonged to someone else.

Like always, you were early. You sat in a leather seat in the lobby, sipping quickly on a free coffee you had made yourself by reception. It was bitter, but decent enough for a free beverage. The rain began to pound against the panes, and soon hailstones hit the ground outside, bouncing. Pedestrians rushed on past, some dashing inside the hotel for temporary refuge from the terrible weather.

Then you saw him. Dressed in jeans, an open neck navy shirt and his usual white trainers. That smile.

You stood up and he stopped in front of you, his arms twitching at his sides.

Richard felt his breath become caught in his lungs. Your eyes looked swollen, the window to a crushed spirit. “Are you alright?” he asked, his hand reaching out a little and then dropping back at his side.

“N…not really,” you replied.

“Come on,” he said, his hand reaching out for you to follow him. “Do you want to go back to your room or shall we get a drink in the restaurant?”

“Can we go back to my room because I’ll probably start crying again,” you replied, swallowing hard.

Richard remained silent as you both made your way back upstairs to floor three. You noticed the concierge eyeing you both as you disappeared into the elevator.

In the room and you sat down on the edge of the bed. “I haven’t even unpacked anything yet,” you told him.

Richard took out the chair which accompanied a small desk in front of your mirror and wheeled it to in front of you. He sat down, his knees only inches away from yours. You noticed his hands were resting at the very end of his knees as if wanting to reassure you and take yours in his.

“I had some really nasty text messages, saying I was ugly and that this person knew I was seeing someone behind their back,” you said. Tears rolled down your cheeks again. “They said they’d seen me and something about him wanting me over them. I have no idea…”

“What was the number?” Richard asked suddenly, his face having grown contorted into an expression of anger. “Show me the number.”

“I don’t know…I blocked it.”

“Please, show me the number…”

You grabbed your phone and brought up the blocked numbers.

Richard’s jaw clenched. “The fucking bitch,” he growled.

“What?”

“Miranda!” Richard hissed. “She got your number off my phone.”

“Your girlfriend?” you asked. Why was Richard’s girlfriend texting you?

“Not anymore. We broke up last night. That smashing you heard in the background, that was her. She’d been looking at my phone and it was the last straw. I’m going to…”

“Rich, calm down,” you said, taking his hand.

Richard looked down at your hands and tightened his own grip around yours. “I won’t let her get away with this. She doesn’t hurt you. No one does. I’d wanted to break it off with her for some time, last night being the reason I could use, but at the bottom of it all, it was because of you.”

“Me?”

Was Richard leaning in to you? His head was coming closer, until you felt his lips on yours. You took a huge intake of air, completely thrown off guard by this situation. Richard’s stubble tickled your skin and you smiled beneath the kiss. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away your tears.

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[thewarriorandtheking]

Galadriel

The Warrior Queen: The Warrior and The King Book II

4. Galadriel

*******************************************

Early the next morning when it was time to set out Thorin could not raise Kaylea. She had laid down when they stopped and passed into the deep sleep she had warned him of. He checked her wound, it was open and draining a white fluid but it continued to look very ugly. The edges were black with dark tendrils spreading from it. Thorin was just debating how he was going to get her on her horse when Hector came running into the campsite. He nosed at Kaylea, seeing she was unresponsive he looked pointedly at Thorin. Thorin met the wolf’s eyes, trying to prepare himself. An image of warg-mounted orcs filled his mind, a distance off on the crest of one of the brown hills behind them.

Thorin’s heart sank, how could he fight them off by himself? He would have Hector’s help, but would that be enough? He could not communicate with the wolf as well as Kaylea did. There could be no doubt the wargs had their scent and were hot on the trail. He looked at the wolf, trying to think of the best way to prepare a defense. Another image came into his mind, a long, flat-sided metal weapon with a stock on one end and a sighting spyglass on the top. Thorin looked at the long scabbard under Kaylea’s saddle, then back to Hector.

Hector snorted at him and started to trot off up the nearest hill, he looked back to see if Thorin was following. Since he had no better ideas Thorin reached into the scabbard and drew forth Kaylea’s metal weapon. It was heavier than he expected, he put it on his shoulder and followed Hector, trying to recall every detail of the way he had seen Kaylea use the weapon.

As they reached the top of the hill, the wolf lay down and crawled forward on his belly, Thorin mimicked him getting down on his hands and knees. From the top of the hill they could see quite a way south. Thorin could see the wargs plainly, a group of six on top of a hill almost directly south maybe half a league away, another two down on the trail he and Kaylea had travelled last night. They seemed to be paused in their hunt, maybe deciding if they wanted to go on in the light. Thorin lay down, holding Kaylea’s weapon to his shoulder, as he had seen her do. The weapon reminded him very much of a crossbow, as soon as he put his fingers on the trigger he felt the weapon vibrate slightly. Looking through the glass again he could see the orcs as close as if they were standing before him. The glass had a sort of red cross in it, he braced himself on his elbows and lined it up with the orcs chest and felt for the release. He squeezed it and heard a soft sigh, the orc fell back off his mount, hit in the shoulder. Thorin moved the glass to the warg, aligned the cross differently and fired another shot. The warg dropped, shot in the head. Thorin quickly moved the glass from one orc and warg to the next, dropping them where they stood. When he adjusted his aim to find the two that had been at the bottom of the hill they were both running back toward Mordor, so he shot them both in the back. He then sat up on his knees and looked at the weapon in his hands. This weapon, whatever it was, could change the way wars were fought forever. Is this how they were fought in Kaylea’s land? He saw now it had little doors on it, he flipped one open and a flat metal case slid partway out, he pulled it out and looked in it, it was filled with tiny metal cylinders. Thorin inspected them carefully, so this was the secret. Shaking his head to clear it he got to his feet, he slid the case back in the weapon and closed it up. He did not have time to waste pondering these mysteries. He had to get on the trail again, hopefully they could reach the Anduin today.

When he got back to the campsite Thorin put Kaylea’s weapon away and saddled the horses. It took him a moment to figure out how to get Kaylea on her horse, she was surprisingly heavy and her horse very tall, but he could put her over his shoulder and slide her face down over her saddle. Hector helped him by standing on the opposite side of the horse and pulling her over by her sleeve. It took them two more days to reach the river where they turned to follow its course, Thorin leading Kaylea’s warhorse with his mare. Thorin and Hector developed a system for getting Kaylea on and off her big horse, every time they stopped Thorin would lay her down and check her wound. It pained him to keep inserting a knife in it to keep it open which he had to do at least once a day, but he told himself she could not feel it. Her wound continued to look uglier, the black tendrils growing longer. Once he had checked her wound Thorin would lay Kaylea’s head in his lap and put his hand on her chest to feel her breathing. He was too worried now to bother looking for food, he just ate her cram and hoped he would get to the Lady of Lorien in time.

After two days along the river the mountains were getting very close, they came to a wide, fast flowing stream that wound its way out of an impressive wood. Thorin could see many tall trees that seemed to get thicker further in. Unlike Mirkwood, this forest had a welcoming feel, the ground carpeted with thick mosses and grass, the sound of the wind in the leaves almost musical. There was a level path along the stream, lined with white stones. Thorin followed it, wondering how long he would travel before he ran into the border guards Kaylea had warned him about. He had been following the path for a couple hours before he realized that Hector had disappeared. He stopped to look around for him, but saw no sign. When he turned his horse’s head forward again there were a group of Elves standing in the path, bows at the ready.

“Who are you and what are you doing in this land?” The foremost Elf asked, stepping forward. Other Elves came forward to take hold of the bridles of the horses.

Thorin dismounted his horse. He bowed as low as he could make himself. “I am a stranger in this land, but my errand is urgent,” he began in Elvish. “My companion Kaylea Wolf is known to you. She has been stabbed with a Morgul blade and needs the healing skills of your Lady if she is to survive.”

The Elves looked at each other. One of them came forward to look at Kaylea lying face down across the back of her horse, he moved her to look at her face and saw the wound. Thorin heard his sharp intake of breath as his fingers touched the edges of her wound. He traced both edges carefully, as if feeling for something. Thorin heard Kaylea take a deep breath, he looked sharply at the Elf. The Elf looked back at him, his face concerned.

“He speaks the truth about his companion,” the Elf said, turning toward to the others.

The first Elf looked at Thorin curiously. “Who are you that comes asking aid from the Lady of Lorien?”

“Give me your name and I will give you mine,” Thorin replied gruffly. He never liked dealing with Elves and his patience was already near the end. They could see Kaylea was wounded, why did they hesitate?

The Elf smiled. “So, you are a Dwarf. I thought at first you were too tall to be one. Very well, I shall speak first. I am called Elrik, a Captain of the Guard of Caras Galadhon.”

“I am Thorin, son of Thrain. Also called Oakenshield.”

Elrik’s eyebrows shot up. “Also called the King of Erebor.” He regarded Thorin with renewed suspicion. “What is the King Under the Mountain doing riding a horse into Lorien with a Human woman wounded with a Morgul blade?”

Thorin took a deep breath. “That is a long story, Master Elf. And while I do not mind telling it, better it be done as we travel to your Lady.”

“I have not yet decided to admit you into our land, your majesty. Dwarves are not allowed to pass the borders of Lothlorien, that is our law. Because of your companion I may allow it, but I must consider carefully.”

The Elf who had inspected Kaylea’s wound put a hand on Elrik’s arm. “I do not believe our Lady would refuse to help one so injured.” He led Elrik away, the other Elves not holding the horses joined them. They had a long discussion out of Thorin’s earshot.

Thorin stood by Kaylea, knowing he could do nothing now but wait. He leaned his head against Kaylea’s back, listening to her breathing. It was low and shallow, sometimes with long pauses between.

After a time, the Elves came back. The Elf who had checked Kaylea’s wound stepped forward. “There is not a question of admitting your companion to our land. We will take this Kaylea Wolf to the Lady Galadriel, you will have to remain here and await her permission to continue.”

“No,” said Thorin flatly. “I go where she goes.” He looked from one Elf to the other. “I am no spy, and I do not believe I should be treated as one. I have told you Kaylea Wolf is well known to the Lady of Lorien, indeed to all the White Council. Do you really want to face your lord to tell her you let an Elf-friend suffer on her doorstep?”

Elrik looked at Thorin skeptically for a long moment, considering his words. “An Elf-friend she may be, but we do not know you. I am responsible for the safety of this land,” he said at length. “Our security must be protected, if I allow you to accompany her when we have set foot in the Naith, you must go blindfolded.”

“I will not,” Thorin replied, crossing his arms. “I have done your people no wrongs. When your people came to Erebor they were not treated as criminals. I have been a guest in the house of Elrond, I must say he is a much more welcoming host than his kindred on this side of the mountains.”

Elrik glared at Thorin. “Lord Elrond does not have a host of goblins living on his doorstep thanks to your people!”

Thorin scowled at him. The word Kaylea had used back in Udun came to his mind, he had no idea what it meant, but he had liked the way she spat it out: Fucking Elves!

The two of them stood staring at each other for several seconds, Thorin willing himself not to strangle the Elf. Finally the other Elf who had examined Kaylea stepped between them. “My captain, a gravely wounded warrior is at our door, she is fading. Can we not come to some agreement?  Send a runner, he will be back when we reach the Celebrant, then we will know our Lady’s decision in the matter.”

Elrik looked at Kaylea and seemed to consider for a moment, then he nodded. He turned to the other Elves and they had a conversation in hushed tones, one took off running through the forest, the others surrounded the horses and Elrik led the way along the path. Thorin took the bridle of Kaylea’s horse and started after the others, who were leading his horse ahead. The Elf who had spoken fell in beside him.

“Thank you for your words, Master Elf,” Thorin said gruffly.

“I am Vanya, I am a healer,” the Elf said. Thorin looked sharply at him. “I could not stay silent, not once I had set eyes on that wound.”  

“Can you heal her?” He asked.

Vanya shook his head. “No, she has passed beyond my skill,” he said. “The Lady Galadriel can, you were right to come here.” He looked at Thorin, his face grave. “You must not give up hope.”

Thorin nodded, but did not reply. The forest of Lothlorien was one of the wonders of Middle Earth, but Thorin remembered little of it. The trees became larger, with white bark and golden leaves, the stream they travelled beside ran fast and clear, making a merry sound. The Elves talked among themselves. Late in the day they came to a kind of ford, the Elves quickly strung up a rope bridge to cross, Thorin mounted his horse and led Hadrian across. On the far bank the Elves paused. Now they were in Naith, the heart of Lothlorien, it was their law that all strangers must go blindfolded from this point. As they were obviously going to wait for the messenger, Thorin pulled Kaylea off her horse to check her wound, and sit with her while they were waiting. Vanya came to help him. Kaylea’s wound was starting to close again, it was almost ridiculous how fast she healed. Thorin took out his knife to open it when Vanya spoke.

“If you will permit me?” He asked. Thorin nodded and the Elf carefully probed the edges of the wound. Thorin watched as he closed his eyes and spoke softly to himself. Kaylea took a deep breath, a tiny shade of color came to her face. The wound gaped open, Vanya carefully wiped the white fluid and blood away with a cloth, then handed it to Thorin so he could continue. He wondered at the Dwarf king. He could see by the way Thorin touched this woman, how he smoothed her hair away from her face, the way her wound pained him, that he cared for her deeply. Vanya could see the same braids in her hair as the king, Were they married? A very strange couple, if they were. He could sense the Dwarf had pushed himself beyond exhaustion and was moving almost on instinct. The king took a seat against a tree and gently lowered the woman’s head into his lap, he leaned his head back and almost immediately dozed off. Vanya sat nearby to keep an eye on them, that wound worried him.

The sun had set and stars were just beginning to twinkle overhead when the runner came back. He went immediately to Elrik and they held a long, hushed conversation. At length Elrik came over to stand beside Thorin, who saw him coming and stood up.

“I have received a message from the Lady of the Galadhrim,” he said. “She gives you leave to travel freely in her realm. Your companion is known to her, as you said. She asks that you make haste to her at Caras Galadhon, she knows what has brought you.” Elrik bowed to Thorin. “It seems I owe you an apology, your majesty. I hope you will forgive me and understand I only acted as I did to preserve the safety the realm.”

“I understand,” Thorin replied, his face dark. “Forgiveness I may grant you some other day. Now, if you let me ride I can bring Kaylea Wolf to this Caras Galadhon before dawn. Or is it another rule that we must walk?”

Elrik smiled. “It is not our way to travel about on horseback, but the Lady has bid you come with all haste so you are free to ride, if you wish.” Thorin nodded and turned to lift Kaylea back on her horse. He shortened the stirrups, as he intended to ride her horse. There was no way he was going to let her ride with an Elf. He looked at Vanya who was standing beside him.

“If you would give me a leg up, Master Elf.” Thorin said. “Whoever is to guide us can take my horse, the sooner we are on the move the better.” Vanya gave Thorin a boost as another Elf caught the reins of Thorin’s horse and jumped up lightly. “Lead on,” Thorin said. He clicked his tongue and Hadrian leapt forward, Thorin had to hold him back to let his guide get ahead. The Elf set a fast pace through the forest, Thorin holding Kaylea against him in the saddle, ducking to avoid low hanging branches. In the grey before dawn the path led them toward a hill crowned with immense trees and enclosed by a high wall. The Elf led them along a paved road to a gate and knocked, it swung open though no guards were visible. A wide paved path was laid between the trees, as Thorin looked up he could see many wooden platforms overhead. Though he saw no one Thorin felt there were many Elves in the trees, a hum of conversation drifted on the air and he felt many eyes were on him. They came at last to a huge white tree with a sort of covered stair leading up it. There were two guards who came forward to take the reins of the horses. Thorin jumped down and pulled Kaylea off her horse, putting her over his shoulder. The Elf who had guided him came forward to help but Thorin waved him off.

“I will carry her,” he said. They started up the stair and climbed for many long minutes before they reached a huge platform on which was built a wide structure, doors at the end flung wide. Two Elven women came out to greet them and guided Thorin to one of the rooms. It was furnished like a bedroom, with a wide sideboard beside the bed and table and chairs. Gratefully Thorin laid Kaylea on the soft bed, feeling real hope for the first time in days. He sat back in a soft chair and watched as the Elves removed Kaylea’s outer clothes and bathed her wound in hot water from a basin. The steam from the water filled the room with a cool fragrance and Thorin found himself feeling refreshed. The Elves finished their task and left him alone with Kaylea. Thorin moved to sit on the bed beside her, taking her hand in his. The attention from the Elves had brought a faint hint of color back to her face, but her hand was still cold. Now that she was wearing only her undershirt Thorin could see the dark tendrils spreading from the wound now extended across her chest and down her arm, the wound itself open and ugly. Her breathing was slow and shallow, he had to listen to make sure she was breathing at all. Thorin brought her hand up to hold it against his face.

“Do not leave me, my love,” he whispered. “I could not bear it...stay with me.” He had been sitting there for some time when the door opened and the two Elves returned. Behind them came a tall, regal Elf who could only be the Lady Galadriel. She was dressed all in white, a circlet of fine silver on her brow. Thorin rose and bowed low to her, she reminded him immediately of the other golden-haired Elf Lord he had met in Rivendell. The same grace and sense of concealed power. The lady inclined her head to him.

“Thorin, son of Thrain, it has been since another age that a member of the House of Durin has walked in this land. I am sorry you were so long delayed at the border, but we must guard the safety of this land. Welcome to Caras Galadhon, your majesty.”

“Thank you, Lady Galadriel,” Thorin replied, bowing his head. “It has been a hard road I have travelled, I only hope I have not come too late.” He cast his gaze to Kaylea.

Galadriel turned to her then, she stood beside the bed and bent over her, her hand just over the wound in her shoulder, fingers moving like she was searching for something. “When did this happen?” She asked. Thorin had to think for a moment, the last days had been a blur.

“Two days over a fortnight, my lady. At the pass of Udun.”

Galadriel looked quickly at him, her surprise evident. “She has carried this for sixteen days? And across the Dagorland?” She turned her attention back to Kaylea. Thorin felt the energy in the room shift, Kaylea suddenly drew a deep breath. Galadriel straightened up. Thorin immediately went to Kaylea’s side, more color had returned to her face, her breathing was deeper. He took hold of her hand again.

He looked up at the Elven lady, she smiled at him. “It was good work keeping this wound open, if it had closed this task would be much more difficult.”

Thorin looked back at Kaylea. “She mostly did that herself,” he said. “She has only been in this sleep for the last five days.”

The three Elves looked at each other. “She was awake all that time, with this wound?” One of the other Elves asked, she seem astounded. Thorin smiled at Kaylea.

“She is very strong,” he said, he looked up at Galadriel as he spoke. “If you know her, you know that.”

Galadriel nodded. “I do indeed, your majesty. But still this surprises me, most who are stabbed with a Morgul blade live only a few days.” She looked at him closely, her voice turned serious. “I will try to remove the fragment of this blade now, it is not a pleasant thing to see.”

“I will not leave her,” Thorin replied, daring the Lady to try to send him away.  

“I did not think you would. I wonder if there is anything that would keep you from this woman’s side,” she said. “Do you have what remains of the knife?”

It was in the pocket of Kaylea’s coat, now hanging over a chair. Thorin went and retrieved it, Galadriel took it and examined it closely, turning it over in her hands. She then laid it aside and stood beside the bed, the other Elves stood across from her, their heads bowed. Thorin felt the energy change in the room again, but this was different, it was far more intense. The temperature dropped and he could feel Galadriel gathering power to her. She spread her hands over Kaylea’s body, holding them a few inches away and began to chant softly, almost to herself. Thorin did not understand the words but he saw Kaylea’s body move, her back arched, the wound turned blacker and started to bleed, slowly at first, then blood poured from it. She started to thrash violently, the two Elves held her down, Thorin grabbed hold of her arm and held it down, his other hand on her hip to keep her still. This went on for some minutes, Kaylea continued to fight the arms holding her. She was so strong the three of them could not have kept her down, Thorin guessed something the Lady was doing was also holding her. Galadriel continued to speak, more stridently now. The temperature continued to drop, until Thorin could see his breath and there was frost on Kaylea’s wound. The Lady moved one hand directly over it, her fingers searching, Kaylea suddenly went still, her body rigid. Thorin felt the energy shift again, sharply. He found it hard to breathe, then as he watched a tiny triangle of metal rose out of Kaylea’s wound into Galadriel’s waiting fingers. She plucked in from the air and brought it close to her eyes, it vanished in a puff of smoke, just as the knife had. The room suddenly grew brighter, the silver light returning. The two Elves quickly moved a dish to catch the blood flowing from Kaylea’s wound, but they did not try to staunch it. Her color was already returning, her breathing deep and regular.

He looked at Galadriel in amazement, she smiled at him. He could see the fatigue in her face.

“Kaylea Wolf is out of danger now,” she said. “We will let that wound bleed until the blood is a normal color, then bind it. We must be sure all the poison is flushed from it. That was the large piece of the blade. She will sleep for some days yet.” The Lady looked thoughtful. “I have done all I can to heal her body, but I fear her mind has gone far afield. Now she must come back to us on her own.” The Elven queen laid her hand on Thorin’s shoulder. “You have travelled a long road, burdened by much sorrow. You could use some rest yourself, your majesty. Will you not bathe and at least treat yourself to some clean clothes and hot food? Your lady is safe here.”

Thorin looked at Kaylea. He really did not want to leave her, but the Lady Galadriel’s words reminded him that he had not bathed in many days and had not eaten in at least two. Kaylea was in good hands now, he knew he could leave her for a few hours.

“You are right, my lady,” he said at last. “I am in need of all those things.”

“And you shall have them, but first I must ask one more thing of you. I wish to know how Kaylea Wolf was wounded, and also about the orb we found on her horse. Where did you find it, and where are you taking it?”  

Thorin and Galadriel sat at Kaylea’s bedside while he told her about the fight in the old watchtower. Thorin also told her how they came by the palantir, and that he had no idea what Kaylea had planned to do with it. This seemed to satisfy Galadriel, and when he had answered all her questions she took her leave. One of the other Elves stayed to tend Kaylea’s wound while Thorin followed the other to a nearby room where he found his bags had been brought up, a bath already drawn and food laid out on the table. He took advantage of both, and put on the soft clothes that had been provided for him. He was not overfond of the idea of wearing something made by Elves, but they fitted him well and it did feel good to lay aside his heavy travelling clothes for a time. With clean clothes and a full belly he returned to Kaylea’s room. She also had been washed and changed, her silver beads shining in her clean hair, her body wrapped in a soft white garment. Her wound now bound in fine cloth. The black tendrils had already faded. Thorin thought she looked as beautiful as he had ever seen her. He laid down on the bed beside her, his arm across her body, his head against her shoulder, and immediately fell into a deep sleep.

Read the complete adventures of The Warrior and The King on AO3 & FanFiction, author is akdogdriver. All three books also on Wattpad, author is dogdriver.

If anyone wants to be added to the tag list for this one, let me know!

[malkaleh]

January Talking Meme

January 5 - Book versus Movie Elrond

Okay. Firstly I want to make a disclaimer that like, I do not think people are terrible in any way for liking movie Elrond or anything and like, it’s a difference in taste thing - a cake thing (some people love X kind of cake and while I really don’t it’s not a character flaw either way). And so on with my Salty Opinons. 

The thing to know about Elrond Not Actually Half Elven it’s more like ‘human, two elvish lines and um, an angelic being who helped create the world’ is that above all, he truly is “as kind as summer” and also oh my G-d his life has been, how does one say A Tonne Of Trauma. 

His parents are both refugees in different ways - one from the fall of Gondolin, one from what I can only say is a very ugly inter elven war over some Shiny Jewels (no, not the rings of power. Different shiny jewels). And then, then when he and his twin brother Elros were very very young their father sailed away looking for Valinor and then their home was attacked by the faction of the Elves After The Shiny Jewels. His mother threw herself and the shiny jewel into the sea, was turned into a bird, found her husband and um yes. 

Elrond and Elros were then raised by one of the very people who had been Very Involved in the attack on their home. Actually Elrond is the name this elf gave him - we don’t ever know his birth name as such. Now apparently ‘love grew between them’ but you can imagine that growing up with that was...A Lot. 

And then comes the war that ends Saurons boss and okay, now their father is a constellation and neither he nor their mother can ever come home. Their foster father is driven mad by an oath involving Shiny Jewellery (which is why Elrond is later so adamant about No Oaths because well, he’s seen what they do. He’s seen how much they break). His twin brother makes the choice to be mortal and by all accounts Elrond is very close to him and his descendants (until um, Sauron helps their land get sunk beneath the waves). 

He marries Galadriels daughter, they have three children and then...his wife is attacked by Orcs and is so traumatised that she has to leave Middle Earth. 

It’s a lot. What book!Elrond does is...he chooses to make Imaladris a place of sanctuary, of refuge and healing and kindness. And welcome. Elrond is an extremely well respected lore master, healer and diplomat. Movie!Elrond doing that ‘I’ll just go out and HUNT ORCS and then hostilely circle around this group of guests and speak in a language they don’t’ is just NOT A THING HE WOULD DO. In the books, they are specifically making for Rivendell, Thorin very much respects and likes Elrond, Elrond is very helpful and kind because like THAT IS WHO HE IS. And also largely he hates the devastation Smaug has caused. 

Also, book!Elrond does not lie to Arwen to get her to go west. He does say that he would like if Arwen and Aragorn wait until Aragorn is king before they get married but he certainly does not keep them apart or anything. He actually specifically raised Aragorn and considers him a son/is very fond of him (and has been doing so with all the descendants of the Kings of Gondor) and like, PJ I don’t know where the weird Aggressive Hostility Came From but it’s Not My Elrond. He is not snarky at people - he doesn’t want Merry and Pippin to go because they are so young. He is kind, he is extremely compassionate and also has a sense of humour and after all of this loss he has suffered? That’s what he keeps. He keeps a refuge. He keeps kindness. He says yes, my beloved daughter will choose a mortal life and I will not stand in the way of that. He says, I will love and I will be kind even through the pain. 

And that is not what I got from movie!Elrond at all. 

Also he has a RING OF POWER and no, he would not just LEAVE RIVENDELL BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE A TERRIBLE IDEA WHAT THE FUCK PJ. 

[oraclesoftime]

Futures Known But Unspoken

CHAPTER 24 Trepidation The group dashed down the hill as quickly as their feet could carry them, a pack of riderless wargs chasing after them, their eyes gleaming in the slowly darkening forest. As a handful of the others killed the few wargs that were chasing them, the rest of the group, including the women ran until they met the ledge of the cliff, shoes digging into dirt to stop themselves from falling over. “Up into the trees! All of you, come on!” Gandalf called out, motioning for everyone to start climbing. Lane ran up to the nearest tree, her boots allowing her to scale the first few feet before she managed to grab onto one of the branches. Climbing up and tucking her feet around the branch, she swung down and let her arms hang down. “C’mon Izz, just like we practised~!” “Now is not the time to tease me!” Belle barked, reaching up to grab onto her friend’s wrists. Lane couldn’t keep the teasing grin off of her face as she managed to help Belle climb the trunk and grab onto the branch beside her own. Once Belle was settled on her branch, Lane tried to swing up to sit on it properly, only for her hand to slip and swing back down. Another pack of wargs dashed towards the trees, someone tugging on the shoulder of her tunic helping her to sit properly on the branch before a warg could take a bite out of her. “Just hangin’ around, Champion?” Nori panted, a small smirk spread across his lips. “Oh haha, you’re an absolute riot,” Lane deadpanned, rolling her eyes at him but unable to keep a smirk of her own off of her features. “Lane… he’s here,” Belle called out quietly, her eyes towards their approaching foe. “Who’s the ugly thing?” Dwalin asked in a hushed tone. “Azog the Defiler,” Lane growled, glaring down at the orc and his white warg. The two dwarves gave her a shocked look before turning back to the orc in question. After a small monologue in orcish, Azog's wargs dashed forwards and began their attempt to reach those in the trees, Belle giving a frightened scream when one of them barely missed her foot before she climbed higher. The wargs continued to attack the trees until finally, their weight caused the one Bilbo and a few of the others were in to topple over, causing an unwanted domino effect. The dwarves helped Lane and Belle to jump from tree to tree until all members of the company were standing in the last one, which just so happened to be precariously perched on the cliff side. “Gandalf! For fuck sakes DO SOMETHING!!” Lane barked, pushing Belle onto a higher branch when a warg came close to snapping at their feet. The wizard quickly reached into the leaves of a nearby branch and plucked a pinecone from it, using his staff to set it aflame before hurling down at the wargs, the creatures giving barks of pain when the embers caused a fire to separate them from the company. Quickly lighting another pinecone and using it to light a third, Gandalf began passing out the small balls of fire to everyone, Lane floundering to catch one for Belle before having to toss them both before they burned her hands. “Lane Lane LANE!” Belle quickly yelped. “What what what??” Lane yelped back, quickly looking down in case a warg was once again trying to climb higher into the tree. “Your arm!!” Belle shrieked, swatting at her friend’s elbow. “Your sleeve is on fire!” Lane paused for a second before lifting her arm and turning her head back to see a small fire was indeed creeping up her sleeve. “Well I’ll be damned…” “LANE!” Belle shrieked, quickly slapping her hands up and down her friend’s sleeve to try and smother the flames. The wargs below them began to yelp and retreat away from the flame causing everyone to erupt into cheers of victory. Their celebrations were cut short however when the weight of the tree caused it to lean back, everyone grappling onto whatever they could to try not to fall down the cliff. Belle and Lane both gave a short scream when the tree came to a halt, nearly laying on a 180 degree angle with the ground they once stood on. Ori’s hands slipped off of his own branch, managing to grab onto Dori’s foot before he could meet his end, the eldest brother giving a short cry as he pleaded Ori to hold on. “Mister Gandalf!” Dori cried as his own hands began to slip. Gandalf reached out with his staff, allowing Dori to grab onto it just as he began to fall, Ori still latched onto his leg. Belle and Lane managed to get a good grip on their branches, looking up and over just as Thorin stood on the trunk and began walking towards Azog, Orcrist in his hand. “Thorin!! Are you out of your fucking mind!?!” Lane roared as he charged towards the pale duo. Azog and his warg charged Thorin, managing to knock him to the ground before charging him again and hitting the dwarf leader across his head with Azog’s club. Bilbo climbed up onto the trunk of the tree as Azog’s warg clamped down around Thorin’s torso with its jaws, Thorin giving a cry of pain as its teeth sank into him. With a roar, Thorin swung Orcrist up at the white warg’s head, slashing the blade across the beast’s snout causing it to toss him away in pain. The hobbit dashed down the tree with his blade drawn, tackling the new orc that was about to lop off Thorin’s head. Stabbing it repeatedly in the chest, Bilbo scuttled off of the orc and stood between Azog and Thorin’s now unconscious form as more wargs and their riders came to stand behind their leader. As the wargs approached him, Bilbo swung his sword in an attempt to scare them away, the fear evident on his features. “Fuck this!!” Lane roared, pulling herself up and pulling one of Fíli’s swords out of its sheath on his back before dashing down the tree. “Lane!!” Belle yelled, her voice a mix between fear and bewilderment. The other dwarves quickly followed after the taller woman as Lane ducked under the nearest orc’s blade and slashed at the back of the warg’s legs, cutting its achilles tendons and bringing it to the ground before thrusting the blade into the stunned orc’s chest. “Duck!” Lane quickly did as she was told as an ax was thrown over her head, embedding itself into a warg causing it to collapse. She straightened and gave Gloin a thankful nod before continuing her own fight against their enemy. A loud screech filled the air as a set of massive talons came down from the sky and picked up one of the warg and riders before tossing them off of the cliff. “Eagles,” Lane grinned. Her grin quickly fell however when she caught sight of Belle struggling to climb up onto the trunk of the tree. She dashed over to her friend and helped her the rest of the way before getting punched in the shoulder. “Did you just ditch me you jerk! I can’t believe you!” Belle roared, a glare etched onto her features. “What if you’d gotten hurt! What about your head! And you’re on fire again!” “Why thank you for the complimen-” “Lane your leg!” Belle barked, pointing at the flames. Lane followed her friend’s finger and leaned down before casually patting the flame out. “Look at that, i’m so hot even fire is attracted to me~” “Lane!” Lane simply chose to roll her eyes and sigh as her friend continued to yell at her about lacking a single brain cell. Lane caught sight of the eagles making their rounds and picking everyone up and a grin grew onto her face. Grabbing onto Belle’s hand, she jumped out of the tree and off of the cliff, Belle screaming as she was dragged down with her. Only falling about forty feet, the two women landed on the last eagle’s back, their hands instantly gripping the soft feathers as it flew after the others. “I! AM! GOING! TO! KILL! YOU!” Belle roared, slapping her friend on the shoulder with each word, Lane letting out a loud round of laughter despite the pain. The eagles continued to carry them across the sky, over hills and mountains until the sun began to rise in the east. “Thorin!!” Fíli’s voice cried out, finding his uncle’s limp body in the lead eagle’s talons. The eagles soon began dropping everyone off atop the carrock, Thorin’s body being placed down first, quickly followed by Gandalf who rushed to the leader’s side. When Belle and Lane’s eagle landed briefly to allow them to slide off, the two kept their distance, knowing that the others would want to be by his side. Gandalf hovered his hand over Thorin’s face before chanting a few lines, Thorin’s eyes opening and turning towards the wizard beside him. “The halfling,” he asked, his voice pained and only above a whisper. “It’s alright. Bilbo is here, he’s quite safe,” Gandalf said. Bilbo, who’d chosen to stand with Belle and Lane away from the group, gave a deep sigh of relief upon seeing Thorin was alright. As their leader rolled over and attempted to stand, needing Dwalin and Kíli’s help to do so, he quickly brushed them off and stared straight at the hobbit. “You!” Thorin growled. “What were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say you’d be a burden…that you would not survive in the wild! That you had no place amongst us...” Thorin continued, slowly walking towards the trio. Belle and Lane exchanged knowing looks, Lane pushing Bilbo forward slightly causing the hobbit to release a small whine from the back of his throat. “I have never been so wrong, in all my life!” Thorin sighed, quickly pulling Bilbo into a tight embrace. A few of the other dwarves let out a small round of cheers as Gandalf looked on with a proud smile, Lane and Belle exchanging smiles that they attempted to hide by biting their bottom lips. “I am sorry I doubted you,” Thorin apologized, pulling back from the embrace. “No, I would have doubted me too,” Bilbo claimed, shaking his head. “I’m not a hero, or a warrior, or even a burglar.” Gandalf silently chuckled before everyone turned to watch as the eagles made one last circle before flying away. “Ohh, come baaack,” Belle booed under her breath. “Take us the rest of the waaay…” Lane snickered and placed a comforting hand on her pouting friend’s shoulder. Thorin’s eyes shifted over Bilbo’s shoulder and past the two women, his expression becoming one of astonishment. “Is that… what I think it is?” Bilbo asked, having turned around to see what their leader was staring at. The company made their way to the top of the carrock, Thorin in the lead as they caught sight of a lone mountain off in the distance. “Erebor. The Lonely Mountain,” Gandalf claimed. “The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of middle earth.” “Our home,” Thorin added, a rare smile spreading across his lips. “A raven!” Oin called out, pointing as the bird flew by. “The birds are returning to the mountain!” “That my dear Oin, is a thrush,” Gandalf corrected. “We will take it as a sign,” Thorin hummed. “A good omen.” “You’re right,” Bilbo smiled. “I do believe the worst is behind us.” Lane and Belle turned towards each other and traded apprehensive looks, only wishing that Bilbo’s words could be true. “We should get some much needed rest before we continue,” Gandalf claimed, looking around the carrock. “No enemy will find us easily here.” The group nodded and slowly dispersed, sitting around the carrock to sleep, eat and rest their minds. Belle and Lane rested near the back of the carrock, Lane splayed out like a star with her eyes closed while Belle sat by her shoulders simply watching the clouds pass by in the sky above. “Here,” Bilbo offered, walking over to the two. “You two must be thirsty.” “Thank you Bilbo,” Belle smiled, taking the water skin from him and taking a sip. “Though I think you may have to come back again later to ask Lane…” Belle paused and shifted her eyes down to her friend, Lane’s breathing having become even with her eyes still closed. “She’s… out like a rock~” Bilbo gave the smaller of the women a look causing Belle to giggle, handing the water skin back with another small thank you before the hobbit returned to Gandalf’s side. Belle turned back to her friend and gently brushed aside some of the hairs on her forehead. Her eyes drifted down to the now dirty bandages around Lane’s head and noticed a small red spot had accumulated on them. “Lane… Lane,” Belle urged, shaking her friend’s shoulder. “Ffffffcck ooooooofffffffff...” Lane whined, her eyes not opening. “We should change your bandages; we don’t want your wound to get infected,” Belle claimed, patting the top of her friend’s head. “I’ll go get Oin.” Lane groaned as she managed to heave herself up into a sitting position as Belle stood do to and fetch their medic. “Umm… Oin?” Belle asked, walking over to the small group. “I was wondering, do you think you’d be able to change Lane’s bandages?” “Arrange a dame’s blueberries? I’m certain I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about dear,” Oin hummed, raising his earpiece to his ear. “No, change Lane’s bandages,” Belle sighed, speaking clearly so that the medic could understand her words. “The lassie’s bandages? Of course, why didn’t you simply say so,” Oin said, grunting as he stood from his spot. Belle rolled her eyes as the dwarf passed her and walked over to a groggy but awake Lane. “Alright lassie, let’s have a look see here,” Oin hummed, sitting down on Lane’s left side before reaching up to begin unwrapping her bandages. “Now, this may pull a little…” Lane flinched and clenched her jaw and eyes shut when the bandages pulled on one of the scabs by her stitches, her fingers coiling into her trousers to try and get her mind away from the pain. “Easy goes it lass, almost got it,” Oin hummed, gently continuing the process. “Oh for fuck sakes, just rip it off like a bandaid!” Lane growled, eyes still shut in pain. “Like a what??” “Lane don’t!” Belle squeaked, quickly grabbing her friend’s hands when she went to rip the remaining wrapping off of her head. “What if you tear out your stitches?” Lane released a small whimper but nodded, Oin continuing to pull the bandages off with one hand while the other followed along her stitched up wound so as not to rip it open. When the bandages were finally off, Lane released her grip on her trousers and allowed her jaw to untighten, opening her eyes with a sigh. Belle patted her friend’s shoulder as Oin began to inspect Lane’s head. “The wound’s healin’ nicely; the elves did a fair job of stitchin’ ya up,” Oin reported. “Though just for safety, I’m gonna put some of my special salve on it to help it along,” he explained digging into his pack before pulling out a metal tin. “I call it ointment, named it after meself~” Lane couldn’t help but laugh at the astounding coincidence. Oin. OINtment. Hilarious. The medic gently spread some of his special salve across her temple, careful not to put too much pressure on her stitches. “I think that these should be ready to be taken out within the week. Be a bit tender, but the wound’s all but sealed itself shut.” Lane nodded in understanding as Oin wrapped her head back up with new bandages from his pack. Lane and Belle both gave the dwarf their thanks before he nodded and walked back over to his brother and a few of the others. “You’re not going to teeter away on us again are you?” The women turned to see Kíli walking over, his brother by his side. “Our journey is nearly done, twould be a shame to have to carry you the rest of the way.” “You should be so honored as to carry me Kíli, if you’re not crushed under my weight halfway there that is,” Lane smirked, giving him a teasing look. Kíli opened his mouth to state the opposite only for Fíli to nudge him in the side and shake his head, stepping forward to kneel by Belle’s side, looking at the taller woman. “How does your wound feel, are you still getting lightheaded?” Fíli asked, concern laced in his tone. “I’m fine Fíli, I’m too stubborn to be offed like that...” Lane hummed, reaching over to pat him on the arm. “I’ll just be glad when I can take these stitches out, they itch like Mary-Jane’s hairy balls…” The two prince’s gave her an utterly confused look to which Belle groaned and hissed “Language!” before Kíli sat down beside his brother so that they formed a square of sorts. “We were talking to Bilbo, he told us about the few months that you two spent with him at the Shire,” Kíli began, resting back on his hands. “Yes, he also mentioned this… odd way your culture greets others,” Fíli added, his arm resting on his propped up knee. Belle’s eyes went wide in realization, swinging towards her friend to see a grin had stretched across Lane’s face. “Lane don’t you dare,” Belle warned, giving the taller woman a pointed look. Lane ignored her friend’s words as her eyes zeroed in on the hobbit in question. Quickly standing from her spot, she dashed over to where Bilbo was now standing alone, gazing towards the Lonely Mountain far in the distance. “Bilbo old chap!” Lane grinned, smacking him on the rump before throwing her arm across his shoulders. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet when we’re nearly there!” Bilbo simply sighed as Lane’s ear picked up the brothers bursting out into laughter from their spot behind her. “I’m not getting… cold feet as you say,” Bilbo huffed, looking up at her. “I’m… just feeling a bit tired.” “If you’re tired then you should be resting, not gazing out into the distance to a mountain that we won’t reach for nearly another month or two,” Lane scoffed, giving the hobbit a scolding look. Bilbo sighed but nodded, dodging under her arm to walk over to where Thorin and Gandalf were seated to try and get some rest as Lane walked back over to the trio. “I can’t believe you just did that in front of everyone! Poor Bilbo,” Belle chastised, glaring at her friend as she sat back down in their square. “Is that truly how you greet each other in your homeland?” Fíli asked, a wide grin spread across his lips. “If it is, I like it!” Kíli added, a grin of his own gracing his features. “Why is it that you didn’t greet us in the same manner?” “Because every time we saw any of you, you were either seated on a pony or on the ground, or getting yourselves into trouble,” Lane answered with a small laugh. “Oh, this is yours by the way Little Prince,” Lane added, reaching behind her to grab the sword she had stolen from the blond prince. The brothers rolled their eyes but couldn’t keep the smirks off of their faces as Fíli took his sword back, returning it to its scabbard. The company remained on the carrock for the day, the sun slowly beginning to set as everyone pulled out their bedrolls and got tucked in. “Fíli, take first watch,” Thorin ordered, looking over to the still chattering four. Fíli gave a small sigh but nodded, bumping his brother playfully in the shoulder before packing up his swords and moving over to the top of the carrock. Everyone nestled into their bed rolls and quickly fell asleep, the chilled night air causing many of them to unconsciously shuffle closer to one another. Lane sighed as she opened her eyes again to glare down at Belle, the smaller woman having shimmied closer to Lane’s body and wrapping her arms around the taller’s waist, a content smile now spread across her sleeping face. “You’re ridiculous,” Lane scoffed quietly. “I know you’re cold but now I’m overheating…” Lane managed to pry Belle’s arm off of her person and sat up, quickly standing and stretching her arms over her head when Belle shuffled over some more in an attempt to find her again. Rolling her eyes, Lane took her bedroll and used it as a second blanket for Belle, tucking the corners in so that she was swaddled like a newborn baby. “There, now stop hugging me,” Lane laughed quietly before standing straight again and cracking her back. The taller woman’s eyes shifted towards the top of the carrock, instantly catching sight of Fíli sitting with his legs dangling over the ledge while smoking his pipe. Lane casted a look down at Belle, before grinning and tiptoeing her way over to their guard. “You just can’t get enough of me can you?” Fíli teased, a smirk stretched across his lips as she sat down next to him. “Well it’s not my fault that Izz keeps cuddling me and your brother keeps throwing his leg over mine,” Lane huffed, swinging her feet in the air while upturning her nose away from him. “Yeah he tends to do that. Amad always used to say that Kíli was the type that had to be touching someone while he slept or else it would be a restless slumber; I’ve gotten used to it,” Fíli hummed, offering her the pipe in his hands. Lane’s face nearly split in half from the smile that stretched across her lips, greedily taking the dwarf’s pipe and taking a deep, long drag, holding her breath for a few moments before exhaling. “I only know her name, your mother, but not the kind of dwarrowdam she is,” Lane began, still holding Fíli’s pipe in her hand. “What’s Dís like?” If it’d been possibly, Fíli’s smile would have grown. “Amad’s amazing. She was very young when Smaug attacked and caused the dwarves to flee Erebor, but she stayed strong and proud. She grew up and met Adad, later having me and Kíli,” he began, nodding behind him to his sleeping brother. “Adad was killed while Kíli was still young; he doesn’t remember him much, so Amad basically raised us on her own. Thorin would come every now and again, he’d play with us and tell us stories about Erebor.” “I can’t imagine Thorin indulging you two for story time,” Lane snickered, her elbow resting on her knee as she took another deep drag from the pipe. “He was a gentler soul back in those days, before Erebor and his father began haunting his mind,” Fíli hummed, turning to grin at her. “But he’s still our uncle; we’d die for him and him us.” Lane felt her heart stop, the smile dropping from her face and pipe lowering to her lap. “Does that notion bother you?” Fíli asked, noticing her now stoney expression. “No, it’s not that…” Lane began, her fingers tracing the small but intricate designs along the bowl of the pipe. “Then what is it?” “It’s just… I’ve never thought of that… as a good thing, dying for someone,” Lane dodged. “Because if you die to protect them, you’re just leaving them with the burden of your death and the phantom memories that now only they have, stories that you can’t share…” Fíli hummed and raised his head back to look up at the night sky as a cold breeze swept across the carrock. Lane’s eyes remained trained on the pipe in her hands. Back in their world it had been mid-late 2014; the third movie, Battle of the Five Armies was still in post-production and not even the extended edition of Desolation of Smaug had been released yet. Her and Belle had read the books years ago and didn’t have very many memories from them. From what little Lane did know about what was supposed to happen; the line of Durin was supposed to end, which meant… A shiver passed over Lane’s body at the thought of the two smiley princes and the bull-headed Thorin dying before this was all over. Fíli noticed her shiver and, believing it to be the chilled night air, couldn’t suppress a snicker. Shuffling with his cloak for a moment, he reached out and wrapped an arm around Lane’s waist, managing to pull her larger form into his side before pulling his cloak up so that it covered both of their backs. “You know, you claim constantly to be the stronger of the two of you, yet you still shiver in the night air,” Fíli teased, keeping his arm around her. “Well excuse me your highness, I’m not made out of this legendary stone that you dwarves are supposed to have been crafted from. I’m all fleshy and squishy and get lonely when I wrap my friend like a burrito,” Lane scoffed. “Like a what?” Fíli asked with a small laugh. “I swear it’s like you two come from a completely different world with all of these words you spout sometimes.” Lane couldn’t help but snicker, taking another puff from the pipe before offering it back to the blond. “Trust me Little Prince, you have no idea.” Fíli gave her a confused look for a few moments before a soft smile spread across his lips, turning his head back to the night sky and taking a small puff from his pipe.

[nelioe]

Post-it

Here is another little fic. Dunno where those short ideas come from at the moment, but I’m certainly not going to complain. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy these two adults acting totally like adults and solving their problems like adults... *coughs* sure... as if.

The silent treatment was becoming ridiculous, but if Fili believed it would get Kili to crack and grovel at his feet he was mistaken. He was a master when it came to holding grudges. Once he had even managed to avoid talking to his mother for a whole month after a major argument. It had taken one of his uncles to help them to reconcile again. Fili wanted war? Then he could have it!

His anger was merely fuelled by the bright yellow post-it note sticking on the fridge.

We are out of milk. Buy some the next time you head out.

Kili narrowed his eyes, barely believing Fili’s commanding tone screaming at him through these few words. The brunet headed over to one of the drawers, reached for the self-stick notepad and a pen and began to write.

Buy it yourself.

*

* 

When he came home the same day after work, a third note was hanging on the fridge.

Don’t be a brat about it. I’ve got the night shift next week and won’t be able to. Just buy the milk, okay?

“Go fuck yourself, Fili,” Kili muttered, grabbing the notepad more forcefully than the first time.

Oh, sure! Because I’m lazy and not working hard? The shops are still open when you have to go to work. You want milk? Get it yourself!

*

*

“How the hell did you manage not to talk to him in one week? You are living in the same flat!” Tauriel stared at him as if he’d grown a second head or lost his mind… or both.

Ori seemed equally baffled, the piece of cake on the fork he just wanted to shove into his mouth momentarily forgotten. Although Kili didn’t want to admit it, he began to feel uncomfortable under their scrutinizing looks and took a big sip of iced coffee to put off answering just for a little while longer.

“Well… he sleeps in the guestroom at the moment,” Kili answered meekly.

“You. Live. In. The. Same. Flat,” she emphasised again. Leaning forward, his friend eyed him critically. “Did you even try to talk to him?”

He wrinkled his nose.

“Why should I? He is the one who started it! I’m not going to apologise for something that’s only going on in his head!” The steadily increasing volume of his voice earned them curious and scolding glances from the other guests of the little ice cream parlour.

“Oh yeah, that’s very mature,” Tauriel scoffed.

“None of us is saying you should apologise,” Ori tried a little calmer. “But you two avoiding each other doesn’t sound like a healthy relationship.”

“I’m not avoiding him on purpose!” He shrunk a little under the warning glare Tauriel darted into his direction. “Well… at least not completely. He is the one avoiding me, always staying hidden in the guestroom… I just… I just let him have his way.”

Shaking her head in exasperation, the redhead huffed, her long fiery hair almost dunking into the bowl of whipped cream on the table.

“You know you have to talk with him sooner or later? That or break up with him.”

Kili froze. Breaking up? Was that how it sounded for his friends? While he admitted that the situation was a little ridiculous, especially for Tauriel in her long and harmonic relationship with Legolas, breaking up wasn’t an option for Kili. Not yet at least…

Were they truly moving into this direction? Was Kili just too proud to see it? Of course the argument had hurt him and of course he was still angry and didn’t even think of apologising, but he was still stupidly in love with Fili.

The conversation gave him food for thought.

At home another post-it note was sticking at the fridge.

I didn’t say you don’t work hard. I’m just knackered. Can you please buy some milk?

Fili hated the taste of coffee without milk.

*

* 

Bought the milk. There was an offer on your favourite chocolate. Got you a bar as well.

Thanks, was written on the first note. Kili’s gaze slowly wandered to the second. I’m sorry I called you a slut.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably with the memory of pain returning to the forefront of his mind. Even written like that the words hadn’t lost any of their ugliness.

You hurt me, the writing was slightly messy, but he couldn’t shake the trembles from his hand.

Kili fled to the bedroom for the night.

*

*

I know. I’m so very sorry. I was jealous and scared. Sometimes I wonder how a guy like you can love someone like me.

He had actually planned to have breakfast, but the new note Fili must’ve left for him in the evening felt like a punch to the guts, dispelling the hunger and making him nauseous. His boyfriend had never hit him as someone battling insecurities. Then again, maybe he was just a genius in hiding them well. Either way, Kili was at a loss. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, just stared at the gathering of words and the heart-breaking meaning they formed.

In the end he was late for work because he was busy with covering the fridge in post-it notes.

Are you serious? You are the best thing that ever happened to me.

I love your smile.

I love the way your hair feels between my fingers.

I love the sound of your laugh and how you murmur in your sleep.

I love that special chicken soup you make whenever I’m feeling sick.

I love the way you curl around me at night, as if you want to protect me from the monsters in my nightmares.

I love the way you hum along your favourite songs.

I love the way you look at me, how you seem to block out the whole world… as if I’m the only one that matters to you.

I love your stupid unfunny jokes.

I love how patient you are with me, whenever I’m stressed or panicking.

I love your adventurous moods and impartiality.

I love that you don’t make fun of my fear of spiders and rescue me every time I ask.

I love how you whisper my name in the dead of the night.

I love the way your hand feels in mine, how you hold me close.

I love the way you kiss me, the way you touch me, the way you feel inside me, the way you make me feel whole.

I love that whatever happens you will be there for me.

*

*

By the time of his lunch break, Kili spotted a couple of missed messages on his phone. A grin wandered to his lips.

Gods, Kee. You are… you are the most amazing man I ever met!

I love you more than I can put into words.

I’m so sorry for forcing this stupid fight on you.

I’m so sorry I almost ruined things between us.

Please, forgive me.

The brunet headed slowly to a corner of the room, away from his colleagues so he could reply in peace.

I forgive you, he typed. And I’m sorry for calling you a control freak, I know you are just trying to watch out for me.

He didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Fili was up surprisingly early for doing the night shift all week.

It’s fine. I deserved it. I was awful to you.

You won’t hear any arguing from me.

Despite being unable to see his boyfriend right now, Kili still knew he would snort with fondness.

I took the day off. Do you think we could have dinner together and talk when you come back home?

The brunet frowned.

Can you do this just like that? Won’t you get in trouble?

You are more important right now. I can handle a little yelling from Thorin.

Warmth spread through Kili’s chest. Even though he would prefer for the blond to avoid such a lecture when he went back to work, he couldn’t deny that he felt deeply moved. And yet…

Only under one condition.

Which is?

You will come back to our bed.

Deal.

[fizzyxcustard]

Etiquette

Fandom: Pilgrimage (2017)

Summary: Raymond has found himself in 2019, somehow time travelling 800 years into the future. You have taken him in, but you must teach him modern etiquette to keep him safe.

Pairings: Raymond de Merville x fem!Reader (I say this now as I may just write more to this if it proves interesting)

Warnings: Language, modern day setting, comedy, banter, slight flirting

Word count: 1254

Comments/Notes: Requested from the imagine ‘Raymond has time travelled to 2018 and you must teach him modern etiquette and manners’ by @meganlpie and @lokilove3112. If you wish to be added to my tag lists for a particular fandom, character, or even everything, please send me an ask or a private message and I will add you.  

Raymond woke with a start, jumping up from the warmth of the sheets which were suspending him on the bed. He cursed in French, forgetting for a moment where he was. Then his eyes focused on the vase of flowers on the chest of drawers directly opposite.

“Pfft, still in this godforsaken pit of a place,” he growled.

You were in your kitchen, cooking breakfast and dancing to your music which played through the Alexa system. “Alexa! Play songs by Bon Jovi,” you called.

A blue light lit up on the edge of the black sound system. “Playing songs by Bon Jovi,” replied a robotic female voice.

You went back to preparing the food, not noticing Raymond as he came wandering into the kitchen. A shape caught your vision in the corner of your eye and you jumped, soon after realising who it was. “Morning Ray--,” but you stopped dead in your tracks, holding a pan with sizzling bacon. There, directly in front of you, Raymond stood completely naked. “Um,” you coughed.

Raymond smirked at you, noticing your eyes travel south down his body.

“Please, put some clothes on!” you snapped, breaking from the embarrassment. “Whatever you want to do in the privacy of your own space is up to you, but when you’re staying with someone else, for fuck sake, cover up!”

You turned away, a blush vivid red across your cheeks. The pan in your hand was moving, shaking with your nervousness, which you desperately tried to hide. Men knew how to use that against you, you thought.

After a few seconds you could still sense Raymond behind you. “Have I got to come and dress you again?” you barked.

“Now that is a proposal I would not turn my nose up at,” Raymond chuckled.

“Just get back in your room and get dressed. You’re a grown man, not a child!”

It was still a mystery how this man had suddenly appeared in your garden one night. There had been a flash of blinding light as you stood in your kitchen, washing dishes and then a raving lunatic of a man was stood at your window, banging on it. He was wearing old style knight clothing, looking like something from a medieval reenactment.

What was the light? That was the one aspect of this whole insane scenario that made you cling to a shred of belief in that Raymond really was from the year 1209.

Raymond appeared back in the kitchen a few minutes later, wearing the clothing you had brought for him the day previously. And again, the zip on his jeans was down. You sighed and stomped over to him. “You’re going to have to master this, Raymond,” you hissed. “You can’t walk around with your zip down.” As you reached out to attack the zip, you noticed that he was not wearing underwear. “Uhh, oh God,” you grimaced. “I brought you underpants!”

“Why should I wear an extra layer when they are not needed?” Raymond replied, narrowing his eyes and standing to his full height. He was considerably taller than you, standing a foot taller.

“Look, I’m not going to keep explaining everything to you,” you replied sternly, crossing your arms. “It’s for cleanliness. Our time is a lot different to yours. We’ve come along in terms of hygiene. Going commando isn’t exactly practical and especially with jeans. That’s going to rub something awful.”

“You’ve overcomplicated things,” Raymond said.

“Oh, like with toilet paper? You’re telling me that it would have been better if that hadn’t of been invented? What are you going to do, go back to wiping your arse on your hands and having skid marks in your trousers?”

Raymond smirked at you again. He did that a lot.

Finally, Raymond began to eat his breakfast, enjoying the bacon and eggs you had fried for him. He seemed happy to be eating something that reminded him of his own time period. You decided on a bowl of cereal.

“What is that?” Raymond asked as you poured granola into a bowl and poured on milk. “It looks like the food we use to feed horses.”

Irritated, you dropped your spoon into the bowl with a loud clank and stared at Raymond. “Have you finished? You eat your food and I’ll eat mine. Now, shut up!”

After breakfast you tidied the crockery away. Raymond, as usual, was asking what everything was and raided your pantry, holding up cans of macaroni cheese and spaghetti hoops. Then he looked down at an ugly looking contraption with a metal pole on the end. He kicked it, almost certain that it would rise up and begin attacking him.

“Would you mind not breaking my vacuum, please? It was my mum’s and is already about fifteen years old. And before you ask what it does,” you began sarcastically, still drying plates and utensils, “it sucks up bits out of the carpet.”

“Sucks?” Raymond asked, pulling a puzzled face. Then he nudged it again with his foot.

“Yes, it has air which pulls all the dirt out of the carpet,” you explained.

There came a knock at your door so you quickly dried off your hands and dashed to your front door. It was the postman, holding a parcel for you. The smiley man who was easily ten years older than you offered the parcel to you, his eyes not leaving you. You knew full well that he liked you.

“Thank you, Martin,” you said, giving him a smile.

He stood for a few extra seconds, waiting for you to say something else.

“Thanks again,” you said, feeling uneasy, and began to shut your door.

“Wait,” he said, his arm stretching out to stop the door.

“Yes?”

“Would you like to maybe go out one of the nights?” Martin asked, adjusting his bag of letters on his shoulder.

Suddenly a loud voice echoed down your hallway. “I have put the underpants on as you said!”

“Oh,” Martin said softly, seeing the tall form of Raymond soon appear. “I didn’t know….”

“No, it’s not like that, Mart,” you replied. “Raymond is my roommate for a while.”

“Who is this?” Raymond asked, his voice drifting towards the open front door. “Has he brought you a gift? Does he wish to court you?”

“Raymond, shut up!” you growled. “Get back in the fucking house now!”

“Have you asked her father before you consider courtship?” Raymond asked, stepping up beside you. He looked down at the short, startled postman. “Or do I need to draw my sword?”

“Um, I’m sorry for bothering you,” Martin said sheepishly and turned away, half running down the path.

You stormed back into the house and threw your parcel down on the kitchen table. “One piece of advice, Raymond. When you see me talking to someone: shut up!”

“That man wants to court you. It was plain to see,” Raymond replied.

“I know that. But did you have to start with your courtship and drawing your swordspiel? Courting isn’t the same now, and you’ve got to understand that. And don’t you dare take your sword anywhere with you. You’ll get arrested and jailed for that. It’s illegal to carry weapons; I’ve already told you that.”

“I enjoyed watching him squirm,” Raymond said with a grin.

“You’re a cruel man,” you scoffed. “Now, get ready because we’re going to get you a haircut. You can’t walk around with your hair like that. We need to get it more up to date and styled.”

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@himoverflowers @shikin83 @theincaprincess @deepestfirefun @nowiloveandwilllove @houseofrahl @mynameisnoneya1991 @blankdblank @captainrainbowpanda @cd1242 @c-s-stars @thorins-magnificent-ass @patanghill17 @trees-and-ink @inumorph @leah-halliwell92 @msjava1972 @bespectacled-bunny @ghostlyandee @raindancer2004 @dottiechan @captain-almighty @hobbitlover23 @catthefearless @epicallychrissy @nelswp @adaliamalfoy @spn-obsession @armitageadoration @peneigh-dzredfohl @here2have-fun @greendragonette @littlebird54 @thophil2941btw @princessoferebor94 @banlaochranda @wilhelmyna @gabrieleaquaman @rachel1959 @serpensortia06 @rcrispina @kategorically-challenged @tigereyesf @jumpingmanatee @alae-megallen @tschrist1 @inlovewithamantwicemyage @aspiringtranslator @princessofthefandomrealm @letsbeinspiredby @lilith15000 @lealina-scarsdale @scarsfanfictiontrash @mechromancing-cinnamon-roll @ra-of-light @jassy2101@durinsqueen @hariclea @sherala007 @onewithleaf @legolaslovely@michelem703 @bthtallmadge2 @marieannetora @ladybugg1235 @valuedabovehoardedgold @tiredwritersworld

Richard Armitage tag list: @inkededucatednnerdy @crazytxgradstudent

Raymond de Merville tag list: @hails270105

[fizzyxcustard]

Just To Let Go (4)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Masterlist here

Full fic on AO3 here

Fandom: Real Person Fiction (Richard Armitage)

Summary: You and Richard Armitage are best friends and during a meeting in London, the two of you find that your relationship takes a very serious turn. You are terrified of letting yourself go and loving Richard, despite knowing deep down that you adore him. Your insecurity is keeping you both from being together, and you also find pictures online of the two of you in public. Richard begs you to accompany him in New York and make the move, but will you overcome it all and finally find your strength?

Warnings: Bad language, sexual references, angst, insecurity

Pairings: Richard Armitage x Fem!Reader

Comments/Notes: Originally posted under fizzy-custard as an imagine with no official story title. Now condensed into 4 parts. If you wish to be added to any character, series or fandom tag lists, message me or send an ask. Thank you @tigereyesf for requesting the final part of this fic...which I forgot to post as I felt everyone has lost interest. This is for you! ;) 

Follow Forever tag list: @himoverflowers @shikin83 @theincaprincess @deepestfirefun @nowiloveandwilllove @houseofrahl @mynameisnoneya1991@blankdblank @captainrainbowpanda @cd1242 @c-s-stars @thorins-magnificent-ass @patanghill17 @trees-and-ink @inumorph @leah-halliwell92  @msjava1972 @bespectacled-bunny @ghostlyandee @raindancer2004 @dottiechan @captain-almighty @hobbitlover23 @catthefearless @epicallychrissy @nelswp @adaliamalfoy @spn-obsession @armitageadoration @peneigh-dzredfohl @here2have-fun @xxbyimm @greendragonette @littlebird54 @thophil2941btw @princessoferebor94 @banlaochranda @wilhelmyna @gabrieleaquaman @rachel1959 @serpensortia06 @rcrispina @kategorically-challenged @tigereyesf @jumpingmanatee @alae-megallen @tschrist1 @inlovewithamantwicemyage @aspiringtranslator

Richard was watching as each person walked through the arrivals area at JFK airport. He smiled as families were reunited, couples embraced and friends met for the first time in years, or maybe for the first time. He held a rose in his hand, waiting for you. The rest of the roses, all three bouquets, were back at the apartment, arranged on the bed for you with a bottle of wine and two accompanying glasses.

He checked his watch as the dozens of passengers disappeared through the terminal and off towards their final destinations, and then he looked up at the arrivals board. Your flight had definitely landed: United Airlines from London Heathrow came in at midday.

Richard saw an immigration officer walk past and enquired as to whether the plane you had been scheduled to board had landed. The officer, a middle aged, white haired man, grunted, saying that it had and walked on. Surely the officers wouldn’t have had any issues with your visa and entry, so you being detained was highly unlikely.

Back in England and you had resorted to calling upon your parents for help and you were temporarily living with them until you could get yourself back up on your feet. Your mother had already told you how much of an idiot you were for giving up your job and home for a man you had only just gotten into a relationship with.

Two days before you were due to join Richard and you had been messaged by an ex-colleague from the cinema you had just resigned from, with a link to an online article. The article had shown pictures of you and Richard walking hand in hand down a London street, both of you completely unawares to any photographer in the area. But the worst part had been all the degrading comments you had read beneath, slating you for being with Richard and calling you very disgusting names like ‘dog’ and ‘ugly bitch’. You knew these were just jealous fans, but the comments had cut you deep, re-rooting all the insecurity that you felt you were just putting to bed.

The comments kept playing through your mind as you slept, when you showered, when you ate, and in the end you had decided against joining Richard. But you were a coward and couldn’t be up front and tell him.

Around early evening of the day you were due to land in New York, you looked up at the clock, knowing that it would be time your flight would land and Richard would be in arrivals waiting for you. Your father was too busy watching a quiz programme to even be concerned with your worries, and your mother was taking a nap after an overnight shift at the local hospital where she worked as a nurse.

Your phone began to vibrate on the coffee table so you grabbed it and disappeared into your room. Your heart hammered painfully as you saw his name across the screen in large letters.

“Where are you?” he asked, sounding frantic as you accepted the call.

“I never got on the plane, Rich,” you told him, the pain in your chest rising upwards so you began sobbing.

“W....wha? I’m stood in ARRIVALS WAITING FOR YOU!” he shouted down the phone. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? What’s going on? I can’t keep this up!”

“Well, you don’t have to,” you snapped back at him. “Thank all your wonderful, dedicated fans for this.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Richard growled.

You closed your eyes and exhaled, gathering your thoughts as much as you could from the fog that had descended on you. “Photos were published online of us, and some of the comments made against me were disgusting. I’ve never been called anything like that by people who KNOW me, let alone people I’ve never met before. I can’t stand that.”

“Why should anyone else’s opinion matter?” Richard’s voice had lowered in volume, but the frustration was deepening. This was when you knew he was at his worst; he didn’t shout, but his voice became a quiet growl. “You’re playing me around now, and I can’t carry on like this with you, not knowing what’s going on and when you’re going to break up with me next. I mean, come on, you’ve sold your stuff and moved out. Where are you now?”

“I’m with my mom and dad.”

“Who you don’t get on with?” Richard almost mocked. “You gave up your job and flat to now let this stupidity get to you.”

“Why is it stupidity?” you argued.

“I have this every day of my life. My name and my job are dragged through shit by critics and God knows who else. You’ve got to learn to get over it. And I know that’s easy for me to say, but you need to stand against it and go for what you love in life. That’s if you love me...”

“You know I do,” you whispered, tears falling down your face. “I love you more than anything.”

“Then you need to focus on me, on our future, and fuck everyone else.”

***

Those horrible, degrading comments that Richard’s fans had put online about you still raced through your mind. You would lie in bed, constantly sifting through the words, wondering if they were right. Your relationship with Richard was still on the brink of breaking down due to the fact that you would not agree to go to New York.

Richard had been on the phone with you again, and it was now a week since you had been scheduled to meet up with him at JFK airport. He slumped down on the bed and sighed in exasperation; he was tired, frustrated and didn’t know how long he could continue fighting for you.

Each day that passed, that you were physically absent, and it became harder for Richard to function. The brief taste he had had of you back in England had left him hungry for more, pining for you more than ever. In meetings regarding an upcoming play he was considering, and Richard was distracted, slipping into daydreams, imagining you saying ‘yes’ and finally coming to New York to be with him.

He looked at the large wine stain in the carpet where he had smashed a bottle of wine against the wall a week earlier in a fit of rage once he had returned to his apartment, without you. The roses had been stuffed away in the rubbish as tears had fallen down his face, and his hands bled from thorns digging into his flesh.

And things now were still no better with you. Your whole relationship was hanging by a tiny thread, threatening to tear apart at any moment. It was barely even a relationship, and had only been anything remotely like what it should have been for a handful of days.

In bed you let your mind think of wherever Richard was. All you could feel were his hands on you, him inside you, and his lips slipping over every inch of you. You had never been so wanted, cherished and needed. Richard treated you right in every way a person should be in a relationship. The truth was this, you adored him, loved him more than you had ever loved anyone before, and it was all scaring you. You had put your fear aside once, giving in, and now those hateful comments were plaguing you. There was no one you could tell, apart from your parents. Richard’s career was always something you kept quiet; when you were both friends, you only said that he worked in London and New York to other people, never elaborating on the details.

All you had done was consider your own feelings, never Richard’s. Everything, so far, had been about you. You looked at your clock and saw it was nearly midnight, so it would be evening for Richard. You had already text a few times that day, passing the usual pleasantries to each other, but with tension lingering behind your words.

You picked up your phone and let it call out to him. Within half a dozen rings and he answered.

“Hi,” he said softly. You could sense a smile behind the greeting, as though you could hear it pouring down the phone line.

“I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you, Rich,” you apologised, pulling yourself up in bed.

“You never bother me,” he replied. “I’m just glad you called. I...erm, miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too,” you said, closing your eyes. You squeezed your lips together and tried to push the painful lump in your throat away. “I lie awake at night and I want to be next to you. I imagine how it all felt when we slept together.”

You heard Richard’s light chuckle down the phone. “Then come out to me. I’d come to you but I have so many meetings to finalise my contract for the upcoming play.”

“So you’ve decided to do it?” you asked.

“Don’t dodge what we were talking about. I know you. Come out to me.”

The more you heard his voice, and the way it pleaded for you, and the easier it was for him to break your resolve. All you wanted was to feel him, see him and be wrapped up in his arms.

“Alright, and it’ll be a definite this time,” you promised.

***

You laughed as Richard called you just as you were sat at the airport gate, waiting to board your United Airlines flight to JFK airport. “Are you sure you’re boarding this time?” he asked, chuckling. Then two minutes later into the conversation he playfully interrupted you and asked again.

“Oh, shut up, you daft idiot,” you laughed back at him. The tension and frustration that had lain between you both the last couple of weeks had dissipated, leaving peace, happiness and excitement in its place. Your interaction with Richard had become what it once was: playful banter, heart to heart conversations and philosophical debate. Usually the philosophical debate came from a book that Richard had been reading, and you had no idea what he was talking about, but would try your best to keep up.

Suddenly a voice came over the tannoy. “Welcome to this United, non-stop flight to JFK International Airport. All business passengers and Star Alliance card holders are now welcome to board.”

“Boarding is starting,” you told Richard. “I should land at around two, and hopefully the queue through border control will be quick.”

“I can’t wait to see you,” he replied with a sigh. “I love you. Safe journey, angel. I’ll be waiting in arrivals for you.”

“I love you, too,” you told him, meaning each word.

The flight seemed so long, so much longer than seven hours. However, this was only your second ever flight. Normally Richard came to you in London, and the only other time you had flown was when you had gone on holiday to Spain in your teens with your parents, and hated every minute of it. The take off was the exiting part but once you were in the air, you felt the tension in your muscles at every tiny bump. The loud sound of the engines did not ease your nerves either. The landing was even worse; you braced yourself for the whole descent, feeling as if you were crashing.

Finally you were on the ground and you saw the terminal. You followed everyone out, holding your large weekender bag with your valuables in. The sights and sounds were completely alien to you, but the thought of being with Richard again meant that you didn’t concentrate on the new environment as much as you should have.

Immigration was swift despite the long queues; an officer asked you a couple of questions regarding your entry clearance which showed up against your passport. You gave Richard’s address where you would be staying, and explained you were coming to join your partner. Then you had your fingerprints taken. The officer stamped your passport, smiled, and allowed you to go.

Next you collected your large suitcase from the carousel and began your walk to the main arrivals area where friends, family and taxi drivers waited.

Your heart began to race and you felt the butterflies hit your stomach as you walked through the vast terminal towards the exit. You walked through the door, exhaling loudly, and then you saw him.

The butterflies flapped viciously and you laughed, dashing towards him. You never noticed the large bouquet of roses in his hand as he grabbed you tight and kissed you, not caring who was watching.

You looked at him for a couple of seconds and brushed your hand down his cheek, feeling his beard beneath your touch. “This is it, Rich. I’m yours,” you whispered.

Fin.

[xxbyimm]

The bet - A Thorin x OC series

For anyone who’s interested: here’s a link to my Masterlist OR if you love Enya, check out her story: Enya’s unexpected journey. 

Based on this imagine that I posted on Tumblr that everyone seemed to love. I decided that Thorin needed a strong OC for this series to work, so... Yes. I ended up with Enya. The characters did their own thing, so my first chapter turned out a little bit... different than I anticipated. I hope y’all like it anyway. xoxo

Phase I - The bet

Summary:  Our OC Enya lands in a fierce argument with her king, because she has seen him staring at another dam’s ass. She offers Thorin a challenge: to prove to her he does has, in fact, decent self-control, he has to refrain four weeks from physical contact. He thinks he can make it. Easily. He is a king. But who says the queen is gonna let him win this easily? Let the games begin…

Taglist: @symphony25 @oakenshieldsmizimel, @nelswp, @bellastellaluna, @imagines-for-multiple-fandoms, @leah-halliwell92, @sassytyphoondetective, @jotink78, @armitageadoration, @patanghill17, @sweeticedtea, @evyiione, @fergrigori, @thegreyberet, @maioneill, @mycabin13-blog, @deepestfirefun - Tumblr doesn’t want to tag some of you properly, I’m sorry!!! If you wish to be on this list, please let me know.

Warning: Enya’s swearing. Contains smut. 

All men were the fucking same.

No exceptions. Her mother had told her that once, many years before. Enya remembered the night vividly. There had been a party, hosted by a guy from her math-class she really, really liked. She had spent all day perfecting her look: trying to find the right outfit, adding just another layer of mascara… She had been all fired up; ready to receive that first kiss. Alas it turned out to be a disaster; the object of her affection broke her heart by kissing her best friend. Enya went straight home and sat on the patio for hours as she tried to remember what she had done wrong to deserve something like this. The tears that kept falling down her cheeks ruined her makeup and turned her into a sad panda. It didn’t matter, her life had ended anyway. Looking back, she had to conclude that back then, she had already been quite the drama queen. At some point her mom joined her and pulled her daughter into a tight hug. At first Enya didn’t want to talk to her mother and tried to shove her away as any teenager would do. The two of them fought all the time (and would spend a great deal of their time quarrelling after that day anyway), and Ailva seemed the last person on earth capable of comforting her. But at that moment, Ailva just held her daughter and understood the agonizing feeling of an heartbreak.

‘All men are the same, En.’ She confided. ‘They can’t help it, it’s the weakness in their flesh.’ ‘But we were meant to be!’ Enya had cried out, too hurt to see the boy in question clearly wasn’t. A soft smile appeared on Ailva’s face, only too familiar with puppy love. ‘You’ll find your soulmate, honey. Don’t you worry. And when you do, you’ll know.’ ‘How?’ Enya had sniffed. This wasn’t helping her at all! A faint promise of meeting someone in the future who she didn’t even know yet, how was that supposed to cheer her up? ‘You just know.’ Her mother replied. ‘Trust me.’

Looking back, Enya wished she should have been wise and listened to the warning. But, naive as she was, she didn’t. She broke her heart many times after that night, always being left with the echo of her mother’s promise. She often wondered if she already met her soulmate, and why he hadn't found her yet. Ha, she bet the poor bastard probably took a wrong turn somewhere and was lost, too stubborn to ask for directions.

Turned out that was more true than she ever could imagine. The love of her life often lost his way, but was too proud to admit it. Even to her. A smile crossed her face. Her mother had been right after all. The day she met Thorin… It had been fireworks from the start. The intensity in which she wanted him, the fact that they couldn’t stay away from each other... They were bound to each other, meant to be. Designed by Mahal himself to match. Although their journey to Erebor hadn’t been easy and adjusting to their new roles as king and queen proved to be more of a challenge than both of them had expected, they had each other. She knew she could count on him. She knew the passion never died, because behind closed doors they were still as insatiable as in the beginning of their relationship. They were rock solid.

Or so she thought.

‘All men are the same, En.’ She repeated to herself. She huffed. Just mankind? For a long time she believed that dwarves were different, but right now she wasn’t so sure anymore. All males, every race included, were bastards. She’d never thought that Thorin would be the same, because he was no ordinary male. He was a dwarf lord, for god’s sake. But that obviously didn’t protect him from falling for the oldest trick in the book.

The other woman.

Enya Blueheart heaved a sigh and stood up from the huge boulder she had been sitting on for the last few hours. Since she lived in Thorin’s renewed kingdom, this rocky area on the quiet side of the mountain had been her refuge. She came here to practice her powers and to meditate- a vain attempt to keep herself sane. The mountain slope provided enough cover from prying eyes, allowing her to unleash her rage fully. On top of all that, from this point it only was a twenty minutes’ walk to Dale. She liked to come in Dale. After the BOTFA she had become good friends with Bard, and she couldn’t be more proud of him. The way he handled his position as lord of the city was admirable, and he had managed to transform the town into a thriving center again. The relationship between Erebor and Dale was, thanks to Enya, finally improving. Thorin wasn’t too happy about the bond between his wife and the bowman, but she simply told him to get over it and he did. For some time, things seemed to be right.

Enya slowly began climbing the path towards Erebor again. She had been outside all day, first helping out Bard with his letter to king Thranduil, and after that she spent the remaining afternoon on her hidden spot. The sky was already darkening, but she dreaded to go home. Not now, not when… She clenched her jaw, scolding herself for growing into a weak version of herself. Old Enya would have scorched any female that came near her king; after that she’d probably throw the ashes off the mountain and get away with the murder. But old Enya didn’t know the court, nor the powerful nobles that resided there. This new version of her, the more polished queen, had to change her tactics. She had to proceed with caution, and acting like pre-queen Enya would only lead to disaster. She groaned, wishing she’d paid more attention to Balin. That old goat (as she lovingly called him) knew his way around highborn dwarves, taking advantage of his sweet demeanor and lying in their faces without batting an eye. She still didn’t understand how he did that, and she made a mental note to ask him one day. She passed the soldiers that guarded the entrance of the mighty dwarven kingdom and they bowed before her. Enya smiled at them, resisting the urge to decline her head. She understood why social hierarchy was so important, but on days like this she wanted to disappear behind the walls and be no one. There was no hallway she could cross without having to greet someone. Talking about tiresome. She rolled her eyes.

‘My queen.’ A soft feminine voice spoke behind her. Enya cringed and quickly turned around, ready to put on her haughty face when she saw her lady-in-waiting, Nin, smiling up at her. Her red locks were shining in the light of the torches, her pretty bluish-grey eyes sparkling with humor. Enya was grateful the title of lady-in-waiting had been given to Nin, because it meant she could keep her best friend close. And Nin was a gift from heaven. ‘God damnit, Nin!’ she exclaimed. ‘You scared me.’ ‘What are you wearing?’ Nin sniggered. ‘And where have you been? Thorin tried to find you all day, and he was not… pleased when I told him even I didn’t know where you was.’ Enya shot her friend a glance. ‘I’m your queen, you should bow before me and stop asking difficult questions.’ Nin grinned. ‘Oh, bollocks. You hate such formalities, and I don’t see anyone around here.’ She linked her arm with Enya’s and they strolled through the corridor towards the royal quarters. ‘If I may speak so freely…’ she continued and elegantly dodged Enya’s hand that tried to slap her. ‘You look stunning in those breeches, En. They hug you in all the right places…’ Enya giggled. ‘I think that’s exactly why Thorin insists me wearing a dress in court.’ Nin snorted. ‘Those modest dresses won’t make a difference. Even the noblest dwarves gawk at your pretty physique when you enter a room.’ ‘Oh, please.. tell him that!’ Enya begged. ‘Thorin is unbelievably stubborn about it.’ ‘Talking about that handsome subject…’ Nin began while they turned a corner. ‘Does the fact that you were missing all day having anything to do with a problem that starts with an E and ends with a N?’ ‘Don’t say it.’ Enya grumbled while clenching her fists. ‘I don’t wanna hear it. I. Will. Scorch. The. bitch.’ ‘I’m not stopping you.’ Her best friend confided. ‘She’s a brat and she deserves it for acting like that around Thorin.’

It had only been a few weeks since Enya sensed there was something wrong. A new dwarven family had shown up at court and Thorin allowed them to stay. They already blended in with the other nobles, but Enya didn’t like the way they seemed to change the atmosphere. The dams began to gossip, spreading ugly tales about others wherein no one was spared. To makes matters worse, she felt the distrust against mankind grow with the day. Which of course was completely unfair and unnecessary; Enya did her best to counter these accusations. But so far, it hadn’t been enough. Enya suspected the new noble family of conveying rumors, and especially a young dwarrowdam, called Elmilynn. She caught the filthy girl telling lies one time and kept an wary eye on her since then.

That’s when she noticed other things. She watched that bitch ogling HER husband a little bit too much during important gatherings. Or the dam bended a bit too close towards him when she had the delight of speaking directly with him. She laughed TOO loud at his jokes. That Elmilynn was trying way too hard and Thorin didn’t see it. He was treating her kindly, and Enya even caught him staring at her ass! Oh, she hated it. For all she could tell, he felt flattered and desired by the wench.

FLATTERED. DESIRED?

Motherfucking hell, she was going to kill him. He had no right to like, or watch any other female dwarf in that mountain but his queen. Oh, she could see right through that filthy little smug-faced girl! The little brat had decided to seduce the king, to persuade him in ditching his current queen. No doubt her family was behind her, some old-fashioned fools that liked to see all the old rules restored. Hatred against elves, men. Stricter rules for the women. They wanted back to that life of endless prosperity and power, the life that provoked a dragon to take their home. Enya scoffed. This queen wasn’t going down without a fight. She battled too viciously for all these changes, she loved her king too much to let this happen. She couldn’t fight with her fire this time, but she was ready to take another approach and roast Elmilynn and her whole family on a spit. She could wait, she was capable of keeping her head cool and-

‘GET BACK!’ The air was pushed out of Enya’s lungs when Nin suddenly pulled her back behind a statue. ‘What?!’ she grumbled. ‘Is master Runebelt in sight?’ Nin shook her head and motioned towards the other side of the corridor. Thank god, no master Runebelt. Enya liked the librarian, but the topics he redeemed interesting were enough to put her into sleep on the spot. She frowned and peered in the pointed direction.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

She pricked up her ears, trying to catch the conversation. ‘My king, what a coincidence I ran into you!’ Elmilynn chirped. ‘Yes, it is!’ Thorin replied. ‘I was about to retire to my chambers, but now while you’re here… I was thinking about what you said the other day-’ ‘You’ve got to be joking!’ Enya hissed while turning away. ‘I’m gonna KILL him, both of them! She just doesn’t stop! What did I miss, Nin? Are they involved?’ ‘No, my guess is that he’s being stupid and probably thinks she’s just friendly.’ Her friend tried. ‘Thorin cares too much about you to do this.’ ‘Does he?’ Enya questioned, while gesturing at the pair. ‘I don’t know anymore.’ ‘No, he’s just polite and-’ Nin began, but her face dropped when Enya slipped from their hiding place and walked into the hallway. ‘En, come back! You can’t…’ ‘Watch me.’ Enya groaned. ‘Talk to you later.’

Enya leaned casually against the wall and watched them nearing her, a single flame rising from her palm betraying how furious she actually was. Normally she would have teared them apart, but this situation needed tact. Everyone knew she was by no means an expert at that, but she could give it a try. ‘My queen.’ Thorin said when he noticed her, while giving her the I-have-been-looking-for-you-all-day-where-have-you-been-look. ‘Queen Enya.’ Elmilynn chirruped. ‘It’s so nice to see you again!’

‘Nice? Drop dead bitch.’ Enya’s mind scoffed.

‘Ah, my king. There you are.’ She said, ignoring her female subject. ‘Where have you been?’ Thorin inquired while eyeing her up and down. His pupils were slightly dilated, an clear sign of the fact that her appearance was distracting him. Ah, so far for avoiding the so-called lustful glances of his kin… Had she just found out the real reason why she couldn’t wear revealing clothing anymore? ‘Out.’ Enya replied matter-of-factly while studying her polished fingernails. She loved the bright red color on them. ‘I had things to do.’ Elmilynn shuffled awkwardly on her feet. Enya hoped she felt like a unwanted stranger, someone who didn’t belong here and she directed her gaze towards the young dam. ‘Oh, hi Elmilynn.’ She hummed, faking a smile. ‘I didn’t see you there… You have to forgive me, I had a long and tiresome day.’ ‘It’s nothing, my lady.’ ‘You don’t mind me taking back my husband, don’t you?’ Enya demanded in her queenly voice. ‘I was told he needs me.’ Elmilynn swallowed and bowed her head, but there was an indocile glare in her eyes. ‘Of course, my queen.’ She replied while turning away. ‘Forgive me for intruding, my king.’ ‘It was nothing…’ Thorin told the young dam. ‘We’ll continue our conversation tomorrow.’

‘Nothing? Tomorrow??’ Enya’s mind scolded. ‘You’re in big trouble, Oakenshield!’

‘Oh honey, wait a minute…’ Enya and walked up to the young surprised dam. She faced her directly, her fierce blue eyes boring into grey ones. ‘Nothing is worth my rage, trust me.’ She breathed. ‘Forget it.’ Elmilynn tilted her head, innocence displayed on her face. ‘I don’t what you’re talking about, my queen.’ ‘Oh, I think you do.’ Enya purred. ‘Head my warning. If you don’t back off right away, I’ll make sure you’ll suffer a great deal more than Smaug did. His death will seem merciful compared to your fate.’ Elmilynn scoffed. ‘We’ll see about that... We’ll see…’ Then she curtseyed shortly and disappeared behind the corner.

The door of their bedroom shut with a loud clank. ‘You are cruel.’ Thorin exclaimed. ‘Did you really think it was necessary to threaten that poor girl? She doesn’t deserve to be scolded by you like that!’ ‘Poor?’ Enya shot back. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t kill her on that very spot! I cannot stand there watch you FLIRT with that ignorant, little-’ She couldn’t even finish her sentence and let out an frustrated growl instead while throwing her hands in the air. ‘I don’t flirt with anyone but you.’ Thorin stated. ‘I don’t see what Elmilynn ever did to you for you to hate her so much.’ ‘Don’t you ever say that name.’ Enya hissed and shot him an ominous glare. She just couldn’t bear it, the name of that filthy dam rolling of his tongue like it was sacred. The bitch didn’t deserve something like that.

‘Wait, are you jealous of her?’ Thorin husked, his lips curving into a smile. ‘Is that what this is about?’ ‘As if.’ Enya huffed. ‘I’m a queen. The mere suggestion that I would feel threatened by that obnoxious… thing is repulsive.’ Thorin eyed her suspiciously and she knew he wasn’t buying it. Well, she didn’t even believe herself. The fact that she switched to her queenly voice, as Thorin liked to call it, said enough. ‘It’s a good thing your role as queen helps you to keep everything separated…’ Thorin mused. ‘It would be a shame if your emotions clouded your… judgement.’ ‘Oh, I hate you.’ Enya muttered angrily. ‘You do? I know I’ve been thinking about you all day...’ Thorin purred as his hands pulled her against him. His fingers traveled to her buttocks, kneading the soft flesh. ‘I got word you were looking for me.’ Enya told him, while her body writhed against him. His hands were distracting her from her fury and flared up a deep desire instead. ‘Yes, I was.’ Thorin replied, his lips dangerously close to hers. ‘Where have you been?’ ‘Bard’s.’ Enya whispered in his ear. If he could play the game, so could she. She knew she could make him jealous, if she pushed the right buttons… But Thorin wasn’t taking the bait. Instead he kissed her cheek, the rough facial hair scraping her skin. ‘So he had the pleasure to watch your cute ass move around him all day, while I got…’ he rumbled. ‘Nobles and boredom.’ His hands fumbled on her breeches. ‘And eager dwarrowdams.’ Enya huffed. ‘They all want you.’ ‘But why would I want those when I’ve got a beautiful queen by my side?’ Thorin murmured, his lips brushing over hers. ‘That doesn’t make sense, Blueheart.’ ‘Change of scenery.’ Enya opted. She licked her lips in anticipation when Thorin bent forward. ‘The thrill of…’ she stuttered. ‘Something new.’ ‘I find the thrill of having you a lot more satisfactorily…’ he breathed in her ear. ‘I don’t believe you.’ ‘Oh, mahal!’ Thorin growled. ‘You breathtaking, stubborn shrew!’

He surged forward and pulled her into a bruising kiss, his tongue intertwining with hers. Enya moaned into his mouth, passion swirling through her body and making her mad with desire. Her hands traveled down, struggling with the laces of his breeches. She slipped one hand inside, stroking him along his length. She wanted him, she needed him to show her how much he cared. Thorin groaned in response, his hips buckling forward. He hoisted her up and they crashed against his writing desk. ‘You can’t-’ she began and bit her lip when he wiped the desk clean with one swing of his arm. Inkpots and other writing materials clattered on the floor, the sound of it ringing in her ears. If no one had heard them quarrelling, they were aware of the situation now.

‘Apparently I can.’ He barked. ‘The thrill of something new…’ Before she could move, he pushed her down on the table and tore her pants from her body. The fabric made a protesting ripping sound as it came off and Thorin tossed it carelessly on the floor. ‘Those were expensive!’ she snarled as she shot up. ‘Who do you think you are, Oakenshield?’ Thorin smirked. ‘I’m a king. I’m sure I can persuade the tailor to make a new pair for you.’ ‘Arrogant asshole!’ She bickered. ‘It’s not like you allow me to WEAR THEM!’ Thorin clenched his jaw, his hands moving fast as he loosened his breeches some more, just enough to free his thick shaft from its confinement. Enya had no patience, she wanted him now! She wriggled in an attempt to free herself from her current position, but his strong hands pushed her down once more. A moan escaped from her lips when one of his fingers slipped into her heated core. Thorin groaned as her inner walls twitched around him. ‘Are you going to torture me?’ she quipped, tilting her head lightly. ‘No!’ Thorin snapped and positioned himself before her. Enya couldn’t help but admire his broad chest, the refined muscles on his abdomen, the thick dark trail of hair that grew towards his groin… He was a sight to behold. He managed to take her breath away, every single time. She didn’t even notice his fingers leaving her, but she did cry out as his entire length suddenly entered her in one go. Thorin looked down on her, his gaze burning through hers. His mouth was slightly open, his breathing somewhat unsteady. Enya’s cheeks flushed and a moan escaped her mouth as he started to pick up the pace, his rhythm hard and unforgiving. She wasn’t going to last long and he knew it.

Bastard.

‘You men are all the same!’ she bickered. It was hard to form words or to think while he took her like this, but she really didn’t want him to win this fight by simply fucking her senseless. ‘Are you really going to pick a fight about this?’ Thorin hissed, his hips slamming into hers. ‘Yes.’ She blurted out, biting her lip. Oh, he knew exactly how to drive her insane. She swallowed hard. ‘Damn right.. I am.’ ‘No.’ he rasped, closing his eyes while pleasure took hold of him. ‘Enya… don’t… just…’ ‘I’ve caught you staring at her ass NUMEROUS TIMES!’ Enya snapped, dragging her nails into his chest. ‘It’s HUMILIATING!’ ‘MAHAL, ENYA!’ he shouted. ‘STOP IT!’ ‘NEVER!’ she countered, but forgot what she wanted to say when he bit her collarbone. She threw her head back against the tabletop. Thorin was hovering over her, the heavy scent of his tobacco alluring her senses. He was everything she ever wanted, everything she ever desired. Her breath hitched, her body begging for its release. A fire pooled in her abdomen, flaring up with each stroke against the spot that made her see stars. Her body started to shiver when Thorin’s thumb grazed her clit. ‘Prove it.’ She moaned into his ear. ‘Oh god Thorin, prove it to me!’ ‘Yes!’ Thorin gasped. ‘Anything.’

Middle earth stopped spinning. The ground dissolved and waves of pleasure surged through her, sending her over the edge. Her body exploded, tuning out all senses, expect for the face of her one. Their eyes locked and Thorin growled desperately as her inner walls squeezed around him tightly, forcing him to follow her. ‘Enya!’ he murmured as his release claimed him, spilling his seed deep inside of her. He slumped against her and she listened as their ragged breathing slowed down. She caressed his long dark manes, her fingers traveling over the familiar patterns of his braids. Thorin heaved a sigh and kissed her gently. ‘I propose a bet, lasting four weeks.’ She breathed. ‘You have to last four weeks without any physical contact.’ ‘Any physical contact?’ Thorin asked, placing soft kisses in her neck. ‘Even you?’ ‘Yes. You can’t touch anyone, unless you have to during social occasions.’ Enya murmured. ‘And you can’t be near me either.’ ‘You think I won’t make it.’ Thorin said. ‘I don’t think your self-control is that strong.’ Enya dared. ‘I mean, all men are the same after all and it’s just a matter of time before their eyes start to wonder. Guys just can’t help yourselves, can they?’ Thorin narrowed his eyes. ‘I take the bet, if only to show you that weak flesh doesn’t exist in the line of Durin.’ ‘Think you can handle it?’ Enya inquired. ‘I know I will…’ Thorin rumbled. ‘I just wonder how you will cope, my queen. May I remind you that you’re as insatiable as I am?’ ‘I’ll be fine.’ Enya denied. ‘Then you don’t mind an additional rule…’ Thorin smirked and got up. ‘Surprise me.’ She purred, raising her legs and putting them on his shoulders. Thorin inhaled sharply, his blue eyes watching her intently. ‘You’re as tempting as ever, my queen.’ ‘Is that a problem?’ Enya giggled while tilting her head slightly. ‘It will be, for a few weeks.’ Thorin husked while leaving feather-light kisses on her feet. ‘Which brings me to our additional rule…’ A devious smile appeared on his lips. ‘Either of us are prohibited from pleasuring ourselves without the other being present.’

Gah! Frustrating dwarven king! He had just smashed her secret escape, her plan to survive those 28 days… It meant she had to suffer with him.

‘That surely sounds interesting.’ She replied, unwilling to admit that he cornered her. ‘When will the game begin?’ ‘Hmm…’ Thorin mused. ‘Let’s say midnight.’ Enya cocked a brow. ‘That’s at least five hours from now!’ ‘Exactly.’ He agreed. ‘It will give me plenty of time to ensure we’ll end up both satisfied for at least a few days.’ ‘A few days?’ she teased. ‘Is that even possible?’ ‘Well..’ Thorin told her while lifting her up in his arms again. ‘We can try…’

Let the games begin…