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Hearts Entwined (Dwalin Oneshot)
Author’s Note: First time writing for the LOTR/HOBBIT fandom so be gentle! Just a bit of Dwalin fluff because he’s mah boy.
Summary: Joining a company of Dwarves you thought that your hair would be the least of your worries. But as it turns out, it matters more than you thought.
Dwalin x Reader
The sun had just crawled over the mountains when Thorin decided it was time to make camp. At his words you and some of the other company fell to your knees in exhaustion, you rolling on your back as you steadied your breathing.
“I feel like my legs are gonna fall off.” Ori whined, as he lay collapsed on the ground beside you, to which you chuckled.
“Don’t you live in mountains?” You turned your head.
“Emphasis on the ‘in’. Its not like we climb up and down these every day.” Bofur groaned.
You could tell who the more battle hardy members were, as more of the older men of the troop stood unfazed. One dwarf in particular looking like he had just gone for a morning jog.
“Aw come on you whippersnappers, you’re fifty years too old to let a leisurely walk like this defeat ya.” Dwalin grinned, poking at your leg with his boot.
“Lesiurely??!” Ori panted.
“Walk??!” You cried.
Your dramatics caused many in the troupe to laugh heartily, which was a much needed mood-lifter after such a long day. Even Thorin the Serious smiled as he passed you by.
“Come on, we’ll make for camp.”
You lay on the ground for a moment more, letting your eyes cover your gaze as you enjoyed the view of a certain dwarf, sweat glistening his muscles and brow in the waning sunlight.
Perhaps climbing mountains did have their perks.
Even though it had only been two weeks, it felt as though you had been a part of this rag-tag troupe for years. You were an unexpected surprise, not unlike Bilbo, however your meeting was far from peaceful. They had found you tied up as a troll trio’s appetizer, and after they had rescued you, Gandalf offered that you travel with them.
At first there were objections to having a stranger join, but with you promising to prove your worth to Thorin they obliged. In all honesty you had no idea what to expect in a quest of Blue Mountain dwarves. But you had felt the times changing, work as a bounty hunter becoming more dangerous for a lone wolf. So, it made sense to travel with a group of warriors, peculiar though their quest may be.
Over time you had become accustomed to the Dwarven band, and they you. You liked sparring with Dwalin, listening to Bilbo’s packing tips, and even getting into trouble with Fili and Kili, but unconsciously you found yourself always looking out for Ori.
He reminded you of your younger siblings, and so you tried to make sure he was never left behind. Dori had also noticed your kindness, and had taken it upon himself to be your guide if ever you had questions about the trip, dwarves, and anything in between.
Sure Fili and Kili were friendly enough, but you could never be sure if their answers were serious or offered as a wick to a flame. Which wouldn’t help your case if they knew of your more romantic curiosities about a certain rugged dwarf.
As soon as camp was set up you dug into your bowl almost as heftily as Bombur did, your mighty excursions leaving your body depleted. Sighing as you patted your full belly, you enjoyed the warmth of the fire while propped up against a hefty log, one that Dwalin happened to be sitting on.
“Good to see you’ve revived lass.”
You tried not to let the blush creep into your cheeks as he spoke your nickname with such a warmth that pulled at your heart strings. “Good to see you’re still kicking too.” You shot back, Dwalin smirking at your response.
You remembered the first time you saw him burst out of the trees with a mighty roar. Even hanging upside down, you saw the sheer strength and courage he launched himself at a foe five times his size. Yet his gentleness surprised you as he cut you down and carried you in his arms like you weighed nothing.
I mean, how could you not fall for him?
As everyone cleared off their bowls for the night you tried to stretch your muscles as best you could. The strain on your shoulders was beginning to ache, however it was a familiar pain now, and one that you would try your best not to let show.
You rolled your pack out close to the face of the mountain, since once before Dwalin had to drag you back from almost toppling over the edge in your sleep.
“No more sleeping near the cliffsides you wriggly worm.” He had growled sternly, to which you could only nod, having woken up to being carried by your saviour once again wondering if it was another dream. You’d had to bury your cheeks under the blanket so he couldn’t see your satisfied smile.
“Glad to see you learned your lesson.” Dwalin teased as he watched you from the fire.
“Well I’m sure if I had gone over the edge you could’ve used your beard as rope.” You teased back.
Dwalin and the others roared around the fire, as he looked at you with a mischievous grin.
“You tease this fine work of art missy, but from the looks of it your hair is gonna look worse than mine within a week.”
You brought your hand up to the back of your head and realised that it was, indeed, becoming a matted mess. You kept your thick hair in braids for the practicality, but on this journey you had not found the time to manage the upkeep. Which was important, as your curls answered to no one but a tooth comb and plenty of oil.
You huffed and started to unbind your hair, working your way behind before you felt yourself stuck. Seems one of your more intricate braids had become an intricate knot.
“You might as well just shave it off lassy, we can have matching hairstyles.” Dwalin roared with laughter. You tried your best to give him a grumpy look but you soon found yourself in fits of laughter too.
“You can help me braid my hair then you big ol’ grump.” You grinned, walking purposely around the fire and plonking yourself on the ground between his legs cross legged.
“How about that?” You puffed triumphantly.
But instead of more banter, you instantly you felt those around the fire freeze, Bofur dropping his spoon back into his bowl.
“You didn’t tell her?” Kili hissed at Dori.
“Well its not like I expected it to come up!” Dori argued defensively.
“Am I…. missing something?” You turned your head to look up at Dwalin wondering why he was silent too. However, you didn’t expect to find the most ferocious man you had ever met as red as a beet!
“Um,” Fili chuckled nervously. “Y/N, you-“
“Dwarves have very particular customs when it comes to our hair, or braiding other’s.” Thorin spoke decisively from his place as lookout, arms folded. “Customs that usually amount to offers of courtship.”
Your jaw dropped, realizing that you may or may not have in no small way proposed to Dwalin. “Oh.” You struggled to get words out. “Oh no, I didn’t know, I-I am sorry if I have caused offence!”
“It looks like you’ve caused a heart attack sweetie.” Bofur replied before being elbowed in the ribs by Kili.
You looked at everyone around the fire trying to look for some indication of how to proceed, finding that all of them were looking behind you. “Dwalin?”
“Its okay lass, you didn’t know.” Dwalin replied, the tepidness in his voice almost breaking you.
This really wasn’t how anything was supposed to go! Yes you liked Dwalin, you liked Dwalin a LOT. But you never thought the day would come when you would be ousted by your own foolish actions, and in front of half of your companions too.
“It was an honest mistake.” You heard Dwalin try to joke.
You scrunched the dirt underneath your hands into your fists. You were Y/N. You were bold. You were daring. And while your actions may have been a mistake your feelings certainly weren’t. Could you pretend it all away? Could you live with yourself now if you lied and hid your heart away? No. You had never run away from anything in your life. And you weren’t about to start now.
“If its all the same to you Dwalin, I still would like your help to braid my hair.”
You winced as you heard Ori gasp dramatically. When you peeked up you found Fili and Kili staring at you while simultaneously kicking each other, Bofur almost letting his bowl slip from his hands. Even Thorin raised his eyebrows at your boldness.
You felt the dwarf behind you exhale. “Are you sure lass?”
“Yes.” You tried not to twiddle your fingers, somehow transforming more and more into a shy milkmaid by the second. “Unless you would like me to ask someone else to braid it.” You insinuated daringly, even with fear he would say yes and offer your heart to someone else.
But no sooner were the words out of your mouth then you felt his hands brush against your back, taking the first of your plaits in his hands and unweaving it slowly.
“Well look at that I think its time for bed!” Bofur sprung up and yawned purposefully. At this the remaining troop instantly scattered, leaving you both alone with each other by the fire. Even Thorin had moved so that he was perched around the side of the mountain out of respect for his loyal warrior.
“I’m sorry if my hair is hard to handle.” You offered shyly. “It’s hard to do the plaits on my own.”
“No need for sorrys.” The rugged dwarf answered quietly, cursing his hands for not being nimble, or delicate. His hands were leathery, worn from his early years in the forges. But he had never thought his hands would be weaving in your hair as they did now. “Am I hurting ya?”
“Are you kidding me?” You laughed at his concern. “My mother would have me and my siblings crying after a braiding session when we were younger, this is….” You then paused. “This is much better.”
Dwalin’s own heart swelled at your contentment, fit to burst from his chest. Ever since the day he had cut you down and carried you in his arms, he couldn’t deny that you were the most beautiful cocoon he had ever seen.
He thought it was just the normal jitters when one saw a pretty face, but as you travelled as companions and then as friends, he fell in love with your character. The way you laughed, the way you fought, the way you would look out for Ori. You had proven your worth to the company as you had promised, but along the way you had won Dwalin’s heart.
Of course, he never thought in a thousand years though that a strong, strapping youngling would ever fall for him. You were human, and he considered the fact that maybe you wouldn’t feel attachment like dwarves did. He had thought for sure you would have become interested in one of the princes, anyone younger than himself.
Obviously, Dwalin was wrong.
The fierce warrior reluctantly finished the last plait, the process of taming your hair long but pleasant, as both of you swapped small stories of memories and times long past, even content to sit in silence.
You stretched and then turned to sit facing him. “Thank you.” The warmth in your smile more than Dwalin could take.
Before he could even think the dwarf had taken both of your hands in his, letting his thumbs slide gingerly across your small hands.
“Yes Dwalin?” You looked up at him with pools of dark hazel that glinted in the firelight, taking his breath away with the way you looked at him so keenly. He had never seen you like this before. Then again he mused, you had probably never seen him look like such a blushing fool before either.
“I’ll help you with your hair whenever you need Y/N, if that’s okay with you.”
You smiled at took the chance to hold his face in your hands, planting a small kiss on his forehead. “Its more than okay with me.”
Your own Dwarven Hero.
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“Told you she’d be the one to do it.” Fili chuckled, kicking the bundle next to him that was his brother, gaining him a grunt. “You owe me a pint.”
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