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howtofightwrite · 1 year

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Sorry if you’ve already answered this, I’m having trouble finding different posts in your blog.

I know a lot of your asks are more practical-related, but how do you suggest fully encapsulating the horror and tragedy of war in a (fantasy) battle scene? I really need that emotional and gory impact but it also to seem reasonably realistic.

My favourite references are Battle of the Bastards in GoT and scenes from Lord of the Rings.

Thanks!!

Martin and Tolkien are not two authors I’d ever expect to find together when discussing thematic and abstract concepts like the horrors of war in their writing. One of them is extremely deep, and the other is a puddle. Neither of them are particularly “realistic” but only one of them claims that pretense while drawing from real history. If you’re wanting horrors of war, you’re much better off moving away from Martin and taking a gander at the actual War of the Roses.

Let me explain.

Tolkien served as an officer during World War I. By sheer body count, The Great War was one of the most bloody and brutal wars in human history. As a point of reference, over a million soldiers died during the Battle of Somme. Perhaps as importantly, World War I killed the cultural concept of the Summer War. Before World War I, the British upper class viewed war as a game. War was an adventure, something young men did between reaching manhood and getting married. Watson from Sherlock Holmes is an excellent example of the end result for this particular outlook. They figured they’d go off, have some jolly good fun, get a few scars, and be back in a few weeks in time for tea. What they got was a meat grinder. Two of Tolkien’s close friends died during the war. He also lived through the bombings during World War II while working as a professor at Oxford, he experienced the devastating effects that war had on the civilian population first hand, and, likely, saw a few of his students die. Despite his hatred of allegory, the man was working through some shit in The Lord of the Rings.

If you’re interested in learning more about World War I or even about effectively demonstrating the horrors of war, I do recommend reading All Quiet on the Western Front. I read it once in high school (more years ago than I’d like to admit here) and, much like Elie Wiesel, it has stuck with me. It was also such an effective anti-war novel the Nazis banned it and it was one of the first books they publicly burnt, so you know it’s good.

Back to Tolkien.

What they don’t tell you about fantasy is that it’s real life, just with elves and dwarves and magic. The real world forms the foundation of fantasy and it’s the humanity of the emotional experience in war, the good and the bad, with both ends cranked all the way to eleven that really makes Tolkien’s work so impactful. LOTR is operatic by design, but what keeps the narrative from falling into melodrama is the core thematic message underneath the pageantry. One of the major themes is hope, which gets symbolized in light, and hope’s interplay with despair, symbolized in darkness. Not just a rosy view of it either, but the genuine struggle to keep the light burning against all the overwhelming reasons to give up or give in. Tolkien allows his characters to be corrupted and redeemed, their struggle with temptation before ultimately choosing the better path or failing and falling into darkness. He commits to the idea that hope can be restored in the unlikeliest of places.

Boromir’s death is, perhaps, one of the best examples of Tolkien’s philosophy in action. Boromir is a character we’re not sure of, he wants the one ring from the outset, he’s the only one advocating that it shouldn’t be destroyed. The hearts of men are easily corrupted. When he tries to take the ring from Frodo, he falls into his worst instincts and breaks the Fellowship. But then, against the overwhelming flood of Uruk-hai, Boromir tries to save Merry and Pippin. He fights wounded, shot again, and again, until he’s felled by twenty arrows and he fails. Yet, in his failure he restores Aragorn’s hope in his people, gives him a reason to fight for Gondor, and inspires the audience to believe in Man’s potential for greatness.

Tolkien could have left Boromir in the dark, but he didn’t. He could’ve given into cynicism, but he didn’t. In every adaptation, Boromir’s death never fails to get me bawling. Boromir is both good and bad, both dark and light, his best and worst instincts are driven by the same underlying, sympathetic reason—his desire to save his people and fulfill his duty to his father.

On the whole, I find Tolkien’s presentation of the human condition and war to be more compelling and realistic than Martin’s. Tolkien’s underlying themes have more in common with All Quiet on the Western Front, Saving Private Ryan, and HBO’s Band of Brothers. For all that his characters often feel larger than life (by design, he’s telling an epic) there’s always a grounding quality that allows the audience to connect with them. Whether we agree with Tolkien’s core thematic message or not, Tolkien genuinely has something to say about warfare and its effect, both on personal and world changing levels, and he communicates that message very well.

The irony about the “horrors of war” isn’t about the horrors of war. Thematically, the “horrors of war” is about who we choose to become in the face of them when trapped in the crucible. Do we rise to our best selves? Do we fall to our worst? When every illusion about who we believe we are is stripped away, what’s left? It’s an existential question, not a “realistic” one.

You can’t write about the horrors of war in fiction if you have nothing to say about war, humanity, and its effects. All you’ll end up with is gore for shock value. The world becomes hopelessly depressing, and, in the end, all the blood turns brown before it’s finally shat out.

Hi, Martin.

Don’t get me wrong, Martin is a very skilled writer. His prose is genuinely beautiful and his first book in ASOF, A Game of Thrones is actually a pretty decent deconstruction in the traditional fantasy narrative and a fairly realistic treatment of how events would go for the standard well-meaning fantasy protagonist. And that’s… the deepest we get.

Martin comes out of the 24/Joss Whedon death for shock value school of writing and the land of Iron Age comics that doesn’t have anything to really say beyond, “people suck.” Underneath it all is a level of cynicism in the human condition that would make Garth Ennis blush. The deaths are just shock value. There’s nothing more to it than that. Once you’ve acclimated to the gore, there’s nowhere else to go and nothing else to think about. Ironically, out of his contemporaries, Robert Jordan is better at giving both war and death in his narrative lasting effect, driving character growth, and real meaning.

Martin and Tolkien are opposite ends of the spectrum in their approach to war and their outlooks are utterly incompatible. One of them is a complete cynic and the other is facing himself honestly, openly, fearlessly, and without a smidgen of irony. (The true irony here is that the latter is the Englishman.) Following Martin’s blueprint won’t bring you to a Tolkien outcome. Tolkien’s genuine emotion is the subject of mockery in Martin’s world. Season 8 may’ve been clumsy and infuriating, but it was the natural end of Comic Book Iron Age cynicism. There are no good people, people with power can never be trusted, and all heroes, no matter how noble, reveal their true colors as villains in the end. As Christopher Nolan said, “You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain.” This philosophical outlook may be sold as realistic but it’s really just Political Both Sidesism, Fantasy Edition.

The irony is that the real history Martin draws from, The War of the Roses, is simultaneously crueler, kinder, more noble, more horrific, more impactful, and ultimately more hopeful than Martin’s own work. And this was post the Hundred Years War and all the wars that preceded it.

I bring you, the Duality of Man.

If you want to write a realistic battle scene, start with real war. If you want to write about the horrors of war, start with real war. Pick a war, any war, and dig in. Reading the experiences of others is a way to gain insight into experiences you yourself don’t share and start to process the different philosophies born out of those experiences. The horror of war is a human one.

The most important lesson is that you won’t get there by focusing on the battle itself. To truly feel the impact, every character needs to be carefully built from the very beginning with a through line to every horrific event that happens to them. If you want to learn how to do that, then you need to go study every single war movie from good to bad (including the jingoistic rah-rah ones) like Apocalypse Now, Saving Private Ryan, Battle for Iwo Jima, etc, to really start internalizing the underlying storytelling structure and character design formula that makes those films tick. There’s no one better at portraying the horror and humanity of war than the war film industry. Part of what makes the best of these films really good is their willingness to allow their characters to be emotional and vulnerable. Which you won’t find in a lot of fantasy novels that run on machismo, but is the secret sauce that gives Tolkien his impact.

Having the confidence to allow your characters to struggle, be vulnerable, experience humiliating circumstances, and appear weak is an aspect of writing that a lot of men and women struggle with. Cynicism is a form of self-protection to keep those emotions away, to keep one from being emotionally invested, and is a means by which we protect ourselves from being hurt. We may portray cynicism as the more realistic reality but it’s just a cloak we hide behind. Martin’s approach to warfare is less realistic than Tolkien’s. Tolkien’s characters approach warfare with an eye toward protecting their civilians, safeguarding their future, or, in the case of his villains, focus on genocide. War for Tolkien is the eradication of civilization and the destruction of the future. Characters from experienced combatants to innocent civilians are willing to risk their lives for a world and for the people who matter to them. Martin has the Summer War. It’s there in the title, A Game of Thrones. An entertaining charade of musical chairs. And while all of his characters are chasing power, almost none of them have any sort of vision or goal for the future beyond the accumulation of more. In Martin’s world, the only way to truly win is not to play, but in the real world playing is the only way to create the world you want. Cynicism ends with no seats at the table and no means to change or save anything.

It’s funny because England during the War of the Roses had been in a state of near constant warfare for hundreds of years with their own domestic powers and France prior to the War of the Roses kicking off. The concept of a Summer War didn’t really exist for the medieval nobility. Much as we joke today about war being a game for medieval nobles due to their ransom protections, it really wasn’t. The peasantry was also much, much more dangerous en masse than they are in ASOF. They drove traveling monarchs to hide in monasteries plenty of times and, while that’s funny, it’s not actually a joke.

Now, picture Joffrey dragged off his horse in the middle of a riot and having his skull crushed by a local fishwife right before being trampled into a bloody, unrecognizable pulp by sharp hooves.

Or enjoying the Agincourt bathing route.

You’re welcome.

-Michi

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#how to fight write #Michi answers #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips

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carlandrea · 2 years

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Why Legolas Greenleaf was Chosen for the Fellowship of the Ring

First, Why Not Glorfindel, (with Glorfindel standing in for, in general, any ancient heroes who might be hanging around Rivendell)

This is a stealth mission. The first priority should not be Heroics, which, if anything goes well, should not be necessary. It would have been useful to have Glorfindel when they encountered, for example, the Balrog, but ideally, they would not have encountered a balrog

So then, if you're not expecting to use Heroics, than having someone that much more powerful than the rest of the party is actually a massive liability. If Legolas fell victim to the ring, then Aragorn and Boromir could take him out. If Glorfindel was sent on the mission and tried to take the ring, then everyone else is kind of just fucked. He's Glorfindel. It's the same reason none of the people Frodo offers the ring to takes it. (Gandalf is mildly a complication for this point but like Gandalf just really needs to be here. We need Gandalf.)

Could Gandalf fight Glorfindel? idk. I feel like a redditor just asking the question. it wouldn't be good for anyone if he did, that's for fucking sure

Why Legolas Specifically

He's good at stealth. He's a good scout. He's cheerful and not prone to despair. He's a good fit for this kind of mission

As a Mirkwood elf, he does not have the same vested personal interest in the Three surviving that a Rivendell or Lothlorien elf might have. He is not going on a specific quest to destroy his own home, which would be the kind of thing the Ring would love to latch on to.

Also, as a Silvan elf, his people mildly have a much better track record with the cursed shinies than like. the high elves. the wise. et fucking cetera (I am not open to corrections as to whether Legolas is a silvan elf <3)

But also—specifically—Legolas is someone who is very used to creeping dread and despair, and he's still Like That. He's still Legolas. He's still weird and cheerful and excited about trees. My first point is that he's not prone to despair, and I just want to stress that he has been under this kind of pressure—under the creeping shadow—for his entire life.

he's not tired in the way that so many elves are

Also—

I made another short post about this, and I got this response:

#personally I've always thought it's because #he's actually from one of the places right now #where Men Dwarves and Elves all talk to each other#whereas an elf from Rivendell or Loth Lorien may be very wise and learn'd in what you need to know to be considered learn'd #but have they spoken to someone who isn't of their kin in the last thousand years? #have they experience traveling paths unknown to them and finding their way? #can they hear an insult and try to reach through cultural differences? #would they be able to walk into a texmex restuarant for the first time and go 'oh it's spelled t-a-c-o gotcha CHOMP mmm' #(I suspect not)

(tags by @fairy-anon-godmother)

Which I really agree with!!

In Conclusion:

My boy was perfect for this quest :) He's cheerful, he's young, and he's exactly what the fellowship needs in their elf

#lotr #Legolas #lotr newsletter spoilers

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tanoraqui · 1 year

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key elements of Crownless (the Young Aragorn show that lives in my head and heart) season 1:

(Note that I will play a little fast and loose with timelines and for the sake of a better story. And/or take ruthless advantage of canonical slow Dúnedain aging to spread the timeline out over several decades)

First episode(s) is Aragorn (age 21, functionally late teens) leaving Rivendell to start wandering the wilds with the Rangers. I would do Elrond & his people dirty and say that Aragorn has been kinda sheltered growing up, a little because Elves tend to baby Men, especially young Men, and mostly because everyone wanted to be sure Isildur’s heir was safe as darkness grew in the world, especially after his father was killed when he was 2.

So Aragorn starts with significant book smarts, homely peace smarts—historical knowledge, animal friendship, herblore, diplomacy skills, technical sword/knife/bow skills…but he doesn’t know the dirty fighting tricks that win a fight. His tracking, hunting, forest stealth, etc. skills…suck at first. He’s prone to freeze in urgent healing (or combat) situations, because he’s never done this on his own before—though he has a natural talent for the ‘calling people back from death’ thing we see in LotR.

(This gives Aragorn obvious skills to pick up that demonstrate his character growth as a leader, while also establishing from the start that his real talent in kingship is, always was, diplomacy, strength of character & connection with his people, literal and metaphorical healing. Also, weirdass plans, often based on things he read, with success resting on luck/prayer/hope more than any reasonable thing…including a willingness to trust strange new and/or sketchy people…and they work.)

Maybe eps 1-2 is a double-length episode: opens with newly widowed Gilraen arriving in distress with a toddler 18 years ago, then first half is mostly restless late teen!Estel in Rivendell, ending with Elrond revealing his true name, broken sword, time to go forth… Smash cut to Aragorn tripping in the forest and falling in a stream while 2 other baby Rangers laugh at him and whoever’s stuck training these new recruits sighs heavily. There’s a lot of “this is the new Chieftain of the Dúnedain, Isildur’s heir?”

Format: 22ep 44min monster of the week (like GOD INTENDED) focused on the newest young Rangers: Aragorn, Halbarad, Dúnawen (OC: “maiden of the west”, don’t @ me for naming), as they range throughout Eriador learning how to be badasses guarding the boundaries of civilization. Monsters include orcs, wargs, mortal bandits, trolls, giant spiders, a small ice wyvern that made its way to northern Dale, barrow-wrights, unhoused fëa, rival clans of Men or maybe Dwarves who are about to go to blood feud war…

…and a slowly mounting season plot of the trouble of 3 Nazgúl reoccupying Dol Goldur, after the White Council forced the “Necromancer” out 15ish years ago. (Riling up ghosts throughout the countryside? Something something themes of moving on from the past. Also, can’t go wrong with an episode in which heroes must confront their literal personal ghosts.)

Repeat cameos from Elrohir & Elladan, cousins of all Mannish Dúnedain (and kind of older brothers to Aragorn in particular.) Are they helping him? Are they harder on him than on the other new recruits? Are they good cop/bad cop-ing it?

Arwen! Meet briefly ep1 and/or she’s a key feature of midseason finale; return in season finale to be badass. “Tinúviel! Tinúviel!” scene in Lothlórien casts a hiccup in a fledgling romance between Aragorn and Dúnawen

All combinations of Aragorn/Halbarad/Dunawen ARE welcome, nay, encouraged. They’re functionally in college and they’re all hot, and constantly in near-death situations. I advise the writers to have fun. Bisexuality is free.

Gandalf introduction early, ep2? Probably also in finale (something of a large team-up).

Late season bottle episode, maybe just before a 2-parter finale, in which due to a thunderstorm/mudslide/cave-in incident, Aragorn, Halbarad and Dunawen are trapped in a cave/small series of caves with a random assortment of other travelers on the road west of Bree: a pair of Dwarvish merchants, a few men, 1 elf (journeying to the Havens to Sail?), and 1 hobbit, Mr. Drogo Baggins of Hobbiton, who was making a perilous journey to Bree and back in order to fetch his beloved, very pregnant wife a particular kind of cheese she was craving. No loss of air threat, but they’re stuck. Obviously getting Drogo home is of utmost importance (and everyone else needs to get home safe, too). Tempers run high! Only once the Junior Rangers sort out their late-season interpersonal drama can Aragorn rise to the occasion and organize/mediate this microcosm of Middle Earth’s populace to dig their way out of this cave.

Aragorn is exceptionally good at facing down Nazgúl and their weaponized despair because he has—indeed, he is, by name!—hope. This show is about hope first and teamwork second, and looking badass in a beautiful landscape while Howard Shore music swells third.

[s2 in notes]

#lotr #lord of the rings #Aragorn #ficlet #my fic

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finnofamerica · 11 months

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Insatiable - Dwalin X Reader X Thorin | Smut

Summary: In an effort to break up the monotony of your and Dwalin's sex life, the two of you agree to bring in a third for a night. Who is better than Dwalin's best friend?

Word Count: 1,976

Date Posted: 05.28.2023

TW: AFAB Language used, threesome, double penetration, mentions of somnophilia, anal, spitroast, oral, bondage (cuffs), Blindfolds.

Note: This is a D/s fic. Remember that kink is customizable, and there is no right way to do it as long as you’re keeping safe. We play here by Safe, Sane, and Consensual, but there is also Risk Aware Consensual Kink and Personal Responsibility, Informed Consensual Kink. Don’t yuck anyone’s yum; I am willing to answer any questions that I can.

🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞

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You were sure that everyone in Erebor knew of your husband’s appetite. His hunger was rivaled only by Bombur, though Dwalin worked it off in his battle training with the Kingsguard. When you were making the rounds with your deliveries, you loved to sit and watch all the handsome dwarves train. Your eyes always find their way back to your handsome husband. Though your absolute favorite days what Thorin and Dwalin’s “private” trainings, spectators including Thorin’s nephews and yourself. While you harbored no feelings for Thorin beyond the fondness of a good friend, you’d have to be blind not to be attracted to him. The two of them were often shirtless during their training sessions, and you had the opportunity to ogle the muscles on them both.

You knew your husband bragged about you to his friends. You’d have to be deaf not to hear it because the man was neither subtle nor discreet. You knew he’d brag about having a woman who bakes because “The sweeter she eats, the sweeter she tastes.” You didn’t mind this, though it caused women to look at you with envy and most of the men to do the same with Dwalin. His bragging had turned your cunt into some mystical rumor that you were sure would be passed down through the ages until the rumor became legend.

“Dwalin,” You rubbed the man’s shoulders after a long day of training. It was almost an act of worship the way that you knew he protected you. “I would like to try something different.”

“Different, how?”

“Well, husband, it’s not that I’m disappointed with our lovemaking, it’s just that I’ve come to know what to expect, and we keep repeating the same patterns. I just think it would be nice to switch it up every now and again.”

“Like adding another? I’ve seen the way that you eye Thorin during our training. I don’t think he’s enjoyed the love of a woman in many years, long before Smaug.” Dwalin suggested.

“You know I don’t feel for Thorin.”

“All the better. I won’t have to worry about his kingly ass stealing you from me. Would you like to invite Thorin in some time?”

From then on, Dwalin had his lips sealed. None of your efforts to coax the information out of him worked. He refused to tell you when Thorin would be joining your bedroom affairs. Nearly a full season had passed since the night you suggested bringing it up, and you worried that Dwalin had forgotten.

The chill of winter soaked deep into the mountain that hardly even the forge furnaces could fight. The well-crafted living quarters were nice and toasty, and their fireplaces were well-stocked with wood from Tranduil’s domain. The fires burnt with the smell of nutmeg and allspice, hailing in the holidays when families gathered and feasted on slow-roasted boar.

You dressed in one of your favorite outfits, heading down to the bakery where you worked alongside dwarven masters. They were initially unsure of a hobbit in their kitchens, but after a heaping batch of your lemon poppyseed scones, they changed their minds and welcomed you heartily. Given the holiday season, the kitchens were plenty busy preparing for the King’s Yuleblot ball. The bakers, the tailors, and all the chefs were quite busy preparing all the orders as Balin and Fili ran around making sure their shipments from across middle earth were in order.

When Bunty, the head baker, came in with a cupcake just for you, you realized it was your birthday. You’d been so busy that you’d forgotten. Dwalin had forgotten. He’d never forgotten your birthday in all the years you’d been together. Normally he’d wake you up with his tongue; this morning, you’d woken up alone.

Dejected and beaten by a long day of baking, you’d managed to drag yourself back to your and Dwalin’s shared living space. You swung the heavy door open; Dwalin stood there naked as the day he was born. His impressive cock hung heavy between his thighs.

“Dwalin!” You squealed, covering your eyes as your face heated. “Oh, stop this shying. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Dwalin spun you around, landing a swift slap to your ass. He leaned down, relaxing you with his lips against your neck, kissing and biting along the way. “Strip and lay on the bed.”

You didn’t have to be told twice to obey your husband’s direction. It was your honor to serve him as long as he continued to spoil you with his loving caress. He treated you like you were his goddess, regularly bringing you gifts and telling anyone and every one of your beauty. Dwalin kissed every inch of your naked body as he locked you in cuffs expertly crafted just for you. A gift for your anniversary.

You’d always heard of dwarves’ insatiable appetite. You hadn’t expected their sexual appetite to be just as insatiable. You could almost swear that you’d been in this room for days, locked in these special dwarven cuffs lined with fur. Dwalin spent his sweet time driving your anticipation through the roof, teasing you relentlessly with all the tools in his arsenal.

You whined, arching your back as a warm tongue and cool breath licked along your pussy. The light grazes of his beard scratching delightfully against your thighs. One wide calloused palm pushed against your lower stomach, increasing the sensation of the fingers stroking inside of you. Your lover knew every inch of your body but still took his time exploring every nook and cranny.

A hand gently caressed your cheek, turning your face to the edge of the bed.

“Come on, Darling, open up,” Dwalin coaxed you, making it abundantly clear that it was not your husband eating you out. You let your mouth fall open with a light moan. The fact that Dawlin was sharing you was even hotter than when he’d mentioned wanting to try it one day.

The tip of his thick cock touched your lips, glossing salty precum over them. Slowly he fucked your mouth, warming you up as he edged closer and closer to the back of your throat.

“Fuck, you feel good,” Dwalin moaned, making whoever was between your legs chuckle. The vibration around your clit made you whine, arching further against his lips, hoping to increase your pleasure.

“And tastes good, too,” The dwarf between your legs remarked, sounding pleased. His voice was so familiar, yet you couldn’t place it. You were too overcome with pleasure to care right now. You moaned around Dwalin’s cock; the overwhelming urge to please both men filled you.

“Indeed,” Dwalin grunted, “Always happy to be used for her husband’s pleasure.”

They were talking about you like you weren’t in the room, and you could practically feel yourself drip around the mystery dwarf’s fingers.

“Such a greedy little cunt. May I fuck her, Dwalin?”

“Aye, though you may never want any other pussy after.”

The man between your legs slowly removed his fingers, noisily slurping up your juices. You heard the rustling of clothing being removed and thick, calloused hands adjusting your chained-up legs, so he could fit himself between them. His thick cock stretched you out as he slowly slid himself inside, making you gasp around the cock burying itself in your throat.

Once the mystery man was fully seated inside you, he slowly pulled out until just his tip was still inside you, only to slam himself back into you. You squealed at the ferocity of it. He was fucking you like a man starved of this affection. Every stroke hits your G-spot, creating that familiar tightening sensation in your core.

“That’s it, Amralimé,” Dwalin removed his saliva-coated cock from your mouth, allowing you to moan freely, volume increasing threefold. Lips attached themselves to your nipple, both the mystery man and Dwalin focusing their attention on your pleasure. “Are you gonna cum on his cock?”

“Yes,” You whined, back arching, trying everything you could to increase your pleasure. “Please, may I?”

“You may cum for your King.”

Thorin?! It was clear to you now who the voice belonged to, and you wondered why you hadn’t placed it sooner. There was no one that Dwalin would trust with his wife other than his best friend. Your pussy quivered before releasing an explosion of pleasure through you.

“That’s a good girl,” Thorin cooed in your ear as you clenched around him, hips twitching. You panted, collapsing back against the bed.

“Oh, we’re not done with you yet,” Dwalin threatened you with a good time, the clinking of the cuffs being released from around your ankles. The two men gently flipped you over so you were on all fours.

“You were right,” Thorin remarked, “I think this lady has ruined a world of pussy for me.”

“Take her ass, Thorin. You’ll never know anything tighter.”

Dwalin settled himself beneath you, easily supporting your weight as Thorin eased himself into your tight ass. It hurt, at first, a lot. Your tears were being absorbed by your silken blindfold. The whole time Dwalin comforted you through the pain, telling you what a good job you were doing and how good a girl you were being.

After a beat, the pain eased as your tight ass got used to being stretched out around such a thick cock. Thorin slowly began to thrust his cock in and out of your ass as Dwalin lined himself up with the entrance of your pussy, using Thorin’s tempo to ease himself inside. The feeling of two cocks inside you was damn near overwhelming. It was otherwordly. It had you flying so high into blissful pleasure that you never wanted to come down.

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Thorin groaned, thrusts growing uneven. Each of their mismatched thrusts made you moan and squeal. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, accompanied by whimpering moans and grunts. “And I might’ve thought you were wrong for marrying a hobbit.”

“I told you she felt better than any dwarven lass you’d find.” Dwalin had been bragging about his wife from the moment he’d met you. He knew that you were the one for him, and your sweet pussy was just a bonus.

The playful ribbing was lost on your ears. You could swear that you ascended to the next world. The two made fine use of your holes, surely reaching ascension themselves.

“Fuck, I’m gonna breed her sweet ass,” Thorin grunted, trying his best to maintain a steady pace. He didn’t want to blow his load too soon. Besides, he knew better than to breed another man’s woman without permission.

“Aye, have her ass. She’ll not be pregnant by you either way.”

Thorin’s hips stuttered as he gripped yours, burying himself deep within your ass. You could feel his cock twitch as he spilled his load. Dwalin followed suit, moaning your name as he filled you with his seed. It was any wonder how he’d not gotten you pregnant by now.

They both slowly eased themselves out of you, and unable to support yourself any longer, you collapsed on your husband’s chest. He pulled down your blindfold, allowing you to gaze upon his gruff, handsome face. Dwalin unlocked your cuffs, kissing both of your wrists and holding you tightly, while Thorin when to warm a wet rag and clean up the semen that was dripping out of you.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you chose Thorin.” You remarked sleepily, exhaustion now seeping through your over-expended body. Thorin gently pressed the rag to your pussy, then your anus, the heat easing the dull ache the men had left behind.

“Well, someone needed to get him laid,” Dwalin chuckled heartily.

“Happy birthday, Miss Y/n.” Thorin finished dressing, leaving Dwalin to tend to you for the rest of the night.

“Happy Birthday, Amralimé”

Tags: OPEN

#dwalin x reader #dwalin x reader x thorin #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #the hobbit x reader #05.28.23 #Dwalin x reader smut #thorin x reader smut #dwalin x reader x thorin smut #Thorin oakenshield x reader smut

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cilil · 4 months

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AO3 recommendations overview

A good chunk of the recommendations I received - thanks again to all those who sent me something! - were from AO3 and I couldn't always find a corresponding Tumblr post to reblog so I decided to make a list for convenience (an attempt at sorting has also been made). Please go show some love, enjoy and happy holidays/happy new year!

₊˚⊹ Ainur

♡ Back In Evernow by @the-red-butterfly (Melkor & Manwë, Gen)

♡ Feathers and Friends by @elennalore (Manwë & Ulmo & Maglor, Gen)

♡ Whenever our paths cross by @thedaughterofshadows (Tilion, Arien & Ilmarë, Gen)

♡ Go Get Him by @glorf1ndel (Eönwë x Arafinwë, T, WoW)

♡ To be Made of Fire by @hirazuki (Mairon & Arien, Gen)

♡ Worth While by @hirazuki (Mairon & Eönwë, T, WoW)

♡ Redeeming graces cast aside by @mirkwood-hr-department (Melkor & Nienna, T, canon divergence)

♡ No Sooner Looked by @verecunda (Melkor x Mairon, Eönwë, T)

♡ When Your Walls Fall by @curufiin (Melkor x Mairon, T, canon divergence)

₊˚⊹ Elves

♡ So do our Minutes Hasten to their End by @maglor-my-beloved (Caranthir x Haleth, Erestor, T)

♡ Anywhere With you by @last-capy-hupping (Maedhros x Fingon, past Melkor x Maedhros, E, modern AU, heed warnings)

♡ What Happens at Camp Eglarest, Stays at Camp Eglarest by @polutrope (Daeron x Maglor, T, modern AU)

♡ of a harsh and caustic nature (the root of hope) by @oopsbirdficced (Caranthir x Finrod, T, soulmate AU)

♡ A Compass Pointing North by @elentarial (Celegorm x multiple, E, modern AU (cam work))

♡ Pour Out A Drink For Me by @nothinghereisworking (Caranthir x Haleth, T)

♡ Star Anise by @maglor-my-beloved (Fëanor & Nerdanel & their children, Gen)

♡ Bureaucratic outcomes & oversights by @sortumavaara (Glorfindel x Erestor, M)

♡ Snow white and the hunts(wo)men by @goschatewabn (Celegorm x Oromë, M, ABO)

♡ Laws and Customers by @z-h-i-e (Glorfindel x Erestor, little Arwen, Gen)

♡ glade-song by @welcomingdisaster (Galadriel x Melian, M)

♡ Slow Flights by @searchingforserendipity25 (Maedhros & Irmo, Gen, coming back to life)

♡ The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant by @melestasflight and @polutrope (Fingon, various pairings, T)

♡ My Bones Divide and Shake by @sallysavestheday (Celegorm & Oromë, Gen)

♡ Nothing gold can stay by @mirkwood-hr-department (Thranduil x Glorfindel, E, long fic)

♡ Something in the Darkness by @hirazuki (Eöl x Aredhel, M)

₊˚⊹ Dwarves & Hobbits

♡ You Should Be Safe With Me by @fantasyinallforms (Bilbo x Thorin, E, canon divergent verse)

♡ And I’ll say I love you, and I’ll say that I do by @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book (Bilbo x Thorin, Gen, modern AU)

♡ Flowers that Never Die by @frosticenow (Bilbo x Thorin, T, pre-canon)

♡ Fuck Thy Neighbor by @lordoftherazzles (Bilbo x Thorin, E, modern AU, accidental marriage)

₊˚⊹ For Orc lovers

♡ Scars of Silver and Gold by @niennawept (Adar x OFC, E, ROP verse)

₊˚⊹ Old/older favorites that helped me through difficult times back in the day:

♡ Catechesis by @lvsifer (Melkor x Mairon, E, pope AU my beloved)

♡ the path of ecstasy by @bodhvild (Melkor x Mairon, E, heed warnings)

♡ In Utumno's Deeps by @foxindarkness (Melkor x Mairon, E, heed warnings)

♡ distractions by @tarmairons (Melkor x Mairon, baby dragons, unrated)

♡ Just This Once by @crackinthecup (Melkor x Mairon, E)

♡ ... and I burn for you by @echoesoftheforest (Melkor x Mairon, E)

♡ Desire by @dragonofmordor (Melkor x Mairon, E)

♡ Sacrament by @mayakoroz (Melkor x Mairon, E)

I was a lurker back then and too shy to comment or make myself known, but I saved links to my favorite works and never forgot about them. Better late than never.

₊˚⊹ Gifts for yours truly

♡ His Malicious Majesty by @i-did-not-mean-to (Mairon, various pairings, M)

♡ Where there's smoke, there's a fire by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon x Gothmog, E, modern AU)

♡ Dog eat dog or something like that by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon, puppy, gen)

♡ Aber bitte mit Sahne... by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon, Gothmog x Eönwë, E, coffeeshop AU)

♡ Can't you see that I'm bound in chains? by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon, Gothmog x Eönwë, E, mafia AU)

♡ Reaching for the stars by @i-did-not-mean-to (Manwë x Varda x Yavanna, T)

♡ The adventures of Crablor by @goschatewabn (Crablor x Faramir, E, heed warnings)

♡ Broken traps by @ruiniel (Andreth & a wolf, T)

₊˚⊹ Art collections (is this cheating? No idea - but this is my event and I loved these so let's put them in as a bonus)

♡ Kinktober by @sortumavaara (various, E)

♡ Kinktober by @elanna-elrondiel (various, E)

#cílil's fantastic ficmas #fic recs #cílil's fantastic ficmas recommendations #ao3 overview

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the-really-lonely-mountain · 4 months

Text

Along for The Ride - Part 1

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. With this first installment, we are following the first movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling in love with Kili on the way! Slow burn with this one y'all, nothing spicy till the next work I'm afraid.

Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), wrote this while I had covid, in like 4 days lol, implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien)

Word Count: 6,292

A/N: I was utterly appalled by the lack of Kili writers on here and Ao3. Y'all who write for Kili, I've been eating your crumbs like it's the shit (cause it is) for weeks, but one can't be sustained on crumbs alone so I've prepared a feast!! This is the first fic I've ever wanted to post, please be gentle. Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are loved and treasured!!

Tagging the amazing Kili writers I've been living off of for the past few weeks and who have inspired me so they might share in the feast as well lol go check out their stuff too: @mikathemonster, @cowboybeepboop, @littleenglishfangirl, @ethereal-inquisitor, @sweetpeakili

Photo credit: @immawriteyouthings

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

You were having one of those days that made you want to run away from everything. Instead, you walked on the golf course behind your house after hours; no phone, no umbrella, no bag this time, just you. You had what you could fit from your hands in your jean pockets as you walked the grassy field. Something twinkled and caught your eye on the far side of the fairway, there was a sparkle in the ferns. You walked over and began looking through the underbrush. Your hand grazed a smooth stick with a mangled end that encased a gem. You picked it up hoping for a better look but were transported to another world instead!

You appeared in the new world holding the staff. You were standing beside an older fellow with a pointy hat and long grey beard. You looked around and saw many other gruff, burly-looking men sitting in an encampment. They looked as confused as you. You did the only thing you could think of doing at that moment.

You turned around and took off running as fast as you could.

The wizard whose staff you were running away with asked the younger dwarves in his company to fetch you for him. They ran after you as quick as the wind. You dodged trees and hurdled bushes, making an all-around great effort. You were slowing down though. You stopped for a moment to catch your breath and plan. A twig snapped in the distance; quick footsteps closed in on you. You took off again. You needed a place to hide, a moment to think for God's sake. You were afforded no such luxuries. They were gaining, you were tiring. In your drained haste, you tripped on a bush which sent you stumbling and struggling to regain your footing given your momentum. You finally fell and scampered to take cover behind the roots of a great tree. Their footfalls grew slower and drew nearer. They were so close you could hear their words now.

“…She’s hiding, Fili,” one said much closer than you expected them to be.

You tried your best to steady your breathing. Your heartbeat was so loud you knew they could hear it.

“Stop scaring her Kili,” The other chastised. “You know she’s got to be scared half to death”. He walked past you, studying the ground. The other came up the other side of the tree doing the same.

You gripped the staff preparing yourself to be found. They turned in unison following the same tracks and looked up at you simultaneously. They were both panting but not as hard as you. Fili, the elder and more experienced of the two knelt where he stood a few yards from your curled trembling form.

“My name is Fili” He put his hand on his chest and motioned to the man next to him, “This is my brother Kili. We mean no harm to you.” He kept his distance and showed his empty hands. You stayed firmly pressed against the tree trunk, your chest heaving rapidly and your eyes as large as saucers. They could have tackled you, beaten you, or done any number of terrible violating things, but they kept their distance and spoke softly.

“What’s your name?” Kili asked, with a charming smile as he crouched beside his brother.

“Y/N,” you said in a shaky freaked-out tone.

“Y/N, that’s our friend wizard’s staff,” Fili said, “If anyone can figure out how you got here, he can.”

“But you gotta come back to camp with us,” Kili said reaching out his hand as a peace offering. So many horrible things could happen to you in the wild of this new world, but even more on top of that could if you didn’t go with them.

“How can I trust you?” You asked them. They looked at each other.

“How can we trust you?” Kili threw back at you with a suspicious look and recoiled his hand.

“Touche” you nodded returning his look.

“Seems we are at an impasse then,” Fili huffed at his brother, “You want to get home, and our wizard can do that. The only way that can happen is if you come with us back to our camp. We can only offer you our word and promise on our honor as dwarven princes that you will not be harmed by any in our company.”

You thought for a moment and nibbled at your lip, “You promise?” you looked up at Kili this time.

Kili looked you deep in the eyes, and very seriously said: “No harm will ever come to you, on my honor as a prince.”

You nodded at this, “Very well”, and tried to stand up but were stuck against the tree. The 2 men easily lifted you back to your feet. You followed them back to the camp.

You tried your best to hide behind Kili as you approached the wizard smoking a pipe. You peeked from around his shoulder at the other men in the camp. They were looking at you.

“Please sit, my dear,” The wizard said to you, motioning to the rest of the long log beside him “We have much to discuss.”

Your legs wouldn’t move you from behind the dwarf. You were still quite afraid.

“She seems to have taken a liking to you Kili,” the wizard said to him. The rest of the company let out a soft chuckle of agreement. You couldn’t see it from your angle, but Kili smiled and nodded.

“Sit down child, we aren’t going to hurt you,” One of the dwarves sitting across the fire said. You took a deep breath to gather your courage. One false move by any of the others would have you bolting again.

You moved from behind Kili and sat beside the wizard still clutching the staff.

“May I take that from you?” the wizard politely asked. You handed it to him. He explained how this type of thing had happened to a couple of his wizard friends before, but he didn’t know the remedy or spell to undo it or how to prevent it from happening again. You sat quietly listening and nodding. He explained to you and the rest of the company that he was leaving to travel to his friend and inquire about your predicament. In the meantime, he convinced the company and its leader, Thorin you came to know, to keep you in the company as an innocent bystander to help around the camp and whatnot till Gandalf (the wizard) could figure out what to do with you. Gandalf gave you a small sack of coins, instructing you to get a bag, a bedroll, clothes, and any other necessities you’ll need at the next town.

As the fire died down so did the company. They got out their bedrolls and sleeping gear like a synchronized unit and as quickly as they started, they were all asleep snoring softly. Kili had first watch and was sitting on the ground next to you leaning against the log you were on. You slid onto the ground next to him curled with your knees to your chest. He looked over at you. You looked over at him.

“I don’t know what to do now,” you said not hiding the waver in your voice very well, “I’m so scared.” You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You cried into your hands as quietly as possible, so you didn’t disturb and anger the others. If you had looked at Kili, you would have seen him in a slight panic and at a loss for what to do, he didn’t know how to console crying women. You sobbed into your hands knowing you just needed to let it all out then you’d be fine. Kili looked at the fire and put his hand on your back. Physical contact of any kind back home was next to nonexistent, it felt nice to know he was trying his best to comfort you. After a few minutes of uncontrollable sobbing and hiccups wracking through you, you began calming down. When you were able to breathe properly, you wiped your face even though tears kept falling. You sniffled and rested your chin on your knees letting the tears fall silently now.

“Do you feel better?” Kili guessed in a soft tone and rubbed his hand on your back.

You nodded at him, “Yes” You took a deep breath and wiped the tears from your eyes as best you could, “Thank you” You looked at him and smiled a little. He smiled and nodded too, still concerned but returned his hand to his lap. You sniffled and looked at the fire.

“Really though I don’t know what I’m doing,” you said. “I’ve never been camping before,” you paused to think. “I don’t know how to fight or use a sword or make a fire or hunt or-or—” You were working yourself up and starting to cry again. Kili cut you off before you could start sobbing hysterically again.

“WOAH! Woah!!” alarmed, he put his hand on your back again, “It’s ok. Calm down.” he said harshly, “Take a deep breath, that seemed to help last time,” He mumbled the last part under his breath. That made you smile despite yourself.

“You don’t know how to console someone, do you?” You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes. He shook his head and took his hand from you. “Seems we’re both out of our depth then,” you said making the mood a bit lighter.

“In my defense, I was raised in a pack of manly men,” He smiled fondly “It’s a wonder my mother got through to me at all.”

“So, you do have a mother,” you said, making him look at you quizzically “I assumed you were raised by wolves,” You shrugged. He laughed and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re not completely wrong about that,” He smiled, looking over at the men across the fire. There was a momentary silence. “We’ll teach you those things, how to fight, how to make a fire, all that,” He looked over at you, “I mean who knows how long Gandalf will be, and you’d have to be pretty stupid not to pick up a thing or two even from this bunch.” You smiled and nodded; this calmed your nerves a little. A moment of silence fell between you again.

“Is it ok if I stay up with you?” you innocently asked, “I’m not very tired.”

“Sure,” he said casually, “May I ask about your life back in your world?”

“OK,” You nodded.

“What do you do?” he asked, you gave him a weird look. “Like for a living, how do you make money, how do you spend your days?”

“I’m a student at university at the moment.” He looked at you confused this time. “I spend my days studying at a desk, it’s boring and dull” You quickly summed up.

“Ooohh,” He said, “No wonder you couldn’t run for shit,” He laughed.

You scoffed, “So rude,” You huffed, failing to hide your smile. He was glad you were cheering up a bit.

“If it’s so boring and dull, why don’t you do something else?” He asked, naive to your world and its ways.

“It’s…complicated” you sighed “I have to study to do what I want to do for work even though I don’t want to work or study or do any of that, but I have to make money somehow because I need money to do stuff and buy things because the world I live in is shitty that way and it’s so frustrating sometimes,” you gritted your teeth to make your point.

“Well, what do you want to do then?” he asked, trying to understand your strange world.

“Sit on the beach,” You said without hesitation “…Listen to the waves…sleep on a blanket in the sun,” you sighed wistfully. “Die happy and rich.”

“That does sound nice” He agreed “I’ve never seen a tropical ocean before, the seas near the Blue Mountains are all frozen over.”

“Surely there’s a beach somewhere in this world,” You refused to believe the universe sent you to a world without a beach.

“There is! I’ve heard stories of Southern Gondor, where the sun makes the sand hotter than forges, and the water falls over the horizon in every direction.”

“That sounds like the beaches from back home,” You felt a little bad for him. You’d been practically raised at the beach because it was the only free thing to do in your hometown.

“May I ask a question?” you asked this time.

“Of course,” He shifted to lean against the log and face you.

“What are you guys doing?” you gestured to the camp around you.

“We are on a quest!” He said proudly, “A quest to take back our ancestral home from the dread dragon Smaug,” he said in a sinister voice. He explained about Erebor and the dragon and Thorin to catch you up. You listened, nodded, and took it all in, asking questions and giggling at his jokes. He was a decent storyteller.

“And I’m just along for the ride I guess,” you said deflated about your role in all this.

“If it’s any consolation, you’re quite good company,” He indulged; Kili always got so lonely on watch.

“Yay!” you said over a yawn, “I’d hate to bore any of you,” you replied, genuinely fearing your stories may never measure up to theirs. You leaned over and laid on the soft grass, curled in a ball with your arm as a pillow. You tried not to shiver from the cool evening breeze. You heard some shuffling of fabric, and then a blanket fluttered on top of you. You looked at Kili who smiled and said: “I’m quite the furnace at night, I’ll be fine without it,” he reassured.

“Thank you,” you said over another yawn. You didn’t expect to fall asleep but the next thing you knew it was early morning and you were awoken by the clanging of pots and spoons. You sat up and looked around to get your bearings.

‘Still in the same strange world’ you thought not fully awake. Kili appeared, greeted you good morning, and handed you a bowl of white goo he called porridge. You thanked him and ate your breakfast in silence like the rest of the company. While the men packed up the camp you were tasked with washing the dishes in a nearby stream. You were struck by the beauty of the incredible woods around you even in the dim morning light. You returned to camp and put the dishes in their bag, which was taken by one of your new companions. You felt out of place without a task among everyone who knew what to do. Balin saw you standing in the middle of the camp looking lost. He asked Thorin what they were to do about their lack of an extra pony for you. They decided you could ride with Kili seeing as he was the lightest (next to Bilbo) and his pony could take the weight and because you seemed the most comfortable with him. The old dwarf with a white-grey beard curled up at the ends approached you with as much of a nonthreatening air as he could muster.

“Good morning, my dear!” He greeted you with a chipper smile. “My name is Balin”

“Good morning,” you replied. “I don't quite know what I’m to be doing,” you said sheepishly.

“That’s ok lass, it’ll come with time,” he reassured, “For now, you’ll ride with Kili so you can see if he needs help getting ready.”

“Ok,” You nodded and started walking in Kili’s direction. You stopped in front of his pony and petted its nose and down its neck. “I’ve been told that I’m to ride with you,” you said timidly looking at him adjust his saddle. Kili looked at you and nodded.

“I’ll be happy to have a lovely conversation again” He smiled and looked back at his saddle, making the final arrangements.

He turned to you and said, “I’ll give you a leg up,” And jabbed a thumb at his pony. You nodded and approached the animal. You put your hands on the ponies back and bent your leg waiting for him to help. He leaned forward so he could whisper in your ear: “Wrong leg”. You blushed quite profusely at that and switched legs. He heaved you with such strength he nearly threw you over the other side of the pony. You made yourself comfortable behind the saddle before he hooked his foot in the stirrup and carefully mounted so he didn’t knock you off.

“You ok?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Yep!” you smiled. He nodded. You were excited to see new lands even though you feared what they harbored.

“If you need to hold on to me when we get going you can,” he said, making you both blush despite yourselves.

A few moments later Thorin called out: “Company ready?” in a deep booming voice, “Aye!” They all replied in unison. “Company, move out!” He bellowed and urged his pony forward. The rest followed behind him one by one. When your animal lurched forward you grabbed Kili's waist for dear life. The company was silent till they got to the end of the forest. You had your cheek pressed against Kili’s shoulder and your chest against his back. The fur of his coat was very soft against your face as you turned your head to look over his other shoulder. You yawned but didn’t realize you did it right next to his ear and breathed down his neck. He determinedly kept his eyes on the pony ahead of him to keep the blush rising in his chest at bay.

“You can take a nap if you need to,” he said over his shoulder in a soft voice for only you to hear.

“That sounds like a good idea,” You yawned again. You buried your face in the soft spare fabric of the hood on his back and cuddled closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and sleep swiftly took you. He knew this because he could feel your breathing slow on the back of his neck. He was happy you could sleep and couldn’t help his smile. You shifted now and then, turning your head one way then a while later turning it the other. Kili tried not to talk or move too much in fear of waking your delicate slumber. By midday, you felt very well rested. You took a deep breath and released your grasp on Kili to stretch your arms above your head, arching your back to wake yourself up. You quickly slipped your arms around him again, so you didn’t fall.

“Good morning!” He chirped, “Well afternoon really,” he corrected with a smile, “Sleep well?”

“Mhm,” You hummed against his shoulder “I haven’t slept that well in a long time,” you said thinking back on the restless weeks before your arrival in Middle Earth.

“Good,” He nodded. “Happy I could be of service.”

“Yes, you make quite the comfortable bed,” you replied.

An easy silence settled between you for a while. You contentedly watched the landscape pass by while he kept the pony on the path.

“What’s a good weapon for a beginner?” You asked knowing you needed to start wrapping your head around the fact that you could be stuck here forever and needed to protect yourself. He thought about that for a few moments.

“I’d have to say a bow,” He shrugged, “I don’t know honestly, lemme ask Fili,” he kicked up his pony to walk faster to be next to his brother. “What is the best weapon for a beginner?” He asked him. Fili glanced at you and thought for a moment.

“Hmm I think a sword would be easiest,” He replied, contradicting his brother.

“A sword?!” Kili said incredulously “No that’s one of the harder ones,” He swatted his hand as if to swipe the words from the air.

Fili scoffed “For you maybe,” he said barely keeping his teasing smile under control “But not to the rest of us, my weapon-challenged brother.” That made you giggle. Kili huffed and pulled his horse back, so he wasn’t beside his brother anymore.

“Are you that bad with a sword?” you asked, trying not to laugh too much.

“No!” he exclaimed, “I’m just better with a bow and arrows,” he pouted.

‘Awe he’s so cute when he pouts’ Your thought took you by surprise.

“Perhaps you can teach me, Archer,” Your voice was lower than you intended, making you both blush. Your breath ghosted over his ear making him shiver just a little. He turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, his face so close to yours. He looked at your lips then deep into your eyes holding eye contact.

“Maybe I will,” he said in a deep gruff whisper that made you gasp and goosebumps rush over your skin. He turned back and smiled; proud he could get a rise out of you. You huffed and distanced yourself from him by leaning back, needing the space to calm down.

As night drew closer, Thorin led the company to the edge of a forest and found a shallow cave, more like a cliff overhang to make camp for the night. He told Fili and Kili to take care of the ponies and Oin and Gloin to make the fire. After the meals had been handed out Thorin told you to take Fili and Kili a bowl. You walked through the forest and found them looking at a downed tree in panicked awe.

“Something took 4 of the ponies,” Fili said to you, hoping you’d have the answer to their predicament.

“Yes, and…” you nodded at them trying not to panic yourself “What are you going to do about it since it’s your problem?”

The brothers decided to see what took the ponies and if they could handle it themselves, no need to worry Thorin, right? You followed them as they tracked the pony-nappers. Kili hid behind a tree and peeked around, you hid behind him and peeked over his shoulder. 3 large trolls were something to worry about, and a sight that made that dreadful feeling drop from your chest into your stomach. Your grip on Kili’s coat tightened.

He turned to you and said in barely a whisper, “Go back to camp and tell Thorin”.

Fili was immediately against it, huffing and puffing from behind his tree. Kili shrugged and motioned with hands as if to say, ‘What else would you have us do?!’ Fili huffed again and snuck around the tree. He tried to cut the rope fence with his sword, but he took too long. The trolls caught him. They were deciding ways to eat him when Kili looked at you in alarm and told you to go back to camp. You ran as fast as you could.

“Ponies! Big grey troll things took the ponies!” You said out of breath pointing the way you just came “Fili…in…danger”. Thorin cursed in dwarfish and rallied the company. Balin told you to keep your distance, so you didn’t get caught in the fight.

The dwarves fought bravely but were captured. Bilbo bid for more time while you thought of a plan. You heard the trolls complain about daylight coming and that gave you an idea. You saw the trolls had made camp in the shade cast by a large boulder. You wedged a branch under the rock and used the leverage to try to roll it. It was very heavy, and you were not. It took everything in your power to push the branch to roll the boulder down the ditch edge it rested on. The trolls were washed in sunlight, turning them to stone and freeing the company. They cheered when you stepped over the branch and into the clearing. You helped them from their confines and smiled and blushed when they praised your good job.

Back at camp the company gathered their things and discussed what to do now. Fili suddenly hushed the company.

“Warg howls in the distance,” He whispered to Thorin “They are coming!”

“RUN!” Thorin yelled at the company. Following Thorin everyone started running. You all ran as fast as you could onto a hilly plane sprinkled with trees and boulders. You ran and ran till the Wargs finally caught up. They began to encircle you. The company fought the beasts, taking them down as still more came at them. You went to hide behind the rock formation but fell into it instead. You climbed out as the Wargs were closing in.

“Down here!” you called “There’s a passage this way!” you slid down to make room for the others. Thorin was the last one, as he slid down a horn was blown near the entrance to the passage.

“I can’t see where it leads, do we follow?” One of the dwarves asked.

“Yes! We follow!” Thorin barged through the dwarves and led the company through the narrow pass. You all walked for a few minutes, but then Thorin rounded a corner and slowed as he realized where he’d unwittingly led the company. The rest kept walking around him, but Bilbo stopped and said in admiration: “Rivendell”. You stopped as well to take in the view before you. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. A small town on the side of a mountain with water flowing from beneath some of the glittering structures.

As Thorin led the company over a bridge, you grabbed Kili’s arm to steady yourself as you looked around and took in the ornate statues and architecture of the front steps of a large building. A man much taller than you or the dwarves approached the group.

“We would like to speak to Lord Elrond,” Thorin said through gritted teeth. He was swallowing his pride for the betterment of the quest, that much was clear through his clenched fists and tense shoulders.

“Lord Elrond isn’t here,” The elf said regretfully.

“Then where is he?” Thorin’s patience was growing thin. A horn was sounded on the other side of the bridge you’d just crossed. Everyone turned to see a group of horses galloping towards them. The dwarves began shouting in dwarfish and closing ranks with their weapons ready for battle. You were pushed into the very center of the circle as tall horses and riders circled you. They stopped suddenly and the one on a black horse dismounted.

“My Lord Elrond,” The elf who first approached you said with a bow.

“Lindir” Elrond bowed his head at him then turned to the leader of your group, “Welcome Thorin son of Thrain,” He looked over the dwarf “You have your grandfather's bearings.”

“I’m afraid I know you only from the stories my grandfather told me,” Thorin was doing his best to be polite. (You were later informed that the stories were mostly about him being a ninny.)

“I’d like to offer you and your company a taste of our elfish hospitality,” Elrond said with a warm smile.

“Does that mean we’ll eat?!” Bombur called from the back. The company chuckled at him.

“Yes Bombur, that means we’ll eat” Dori replied. The company cheered at the prospect of a full belly and a warm hearth.

Not long after, you were sat next to Bilbo and Kili at a large table. The salad appetizers were very good despite the dwarves not liking green food very much. You giggled at their jokes about how bad the music was or how they wanted chips and meat. Thorin was sat at another table across from Elrond discussing something you couldn’t hear, but you could tell it pained Thorin to be in the other man's presence.

You turned to Kili beside you. “Thorin looks constipated,” you said in a low voice barely containing your laughter “He can’t even pretend to be enjoying this”. Kili looked over at his uncle and laughed with you.

When the meals were served there was boisterous laughter and general dwarfish shenanigans, the usual at any merry dwarfish gathering. Bilbo looked like he was having PTSD from when they were doing the same at his house at the beginning of the quest. At the end of the meal, Thorin and Balin disappeared with Elrond to discuss a map. You asked Kili if he would escort you to the markets with as much innocent girlish need as you could muster to solidify your security. He agreed and walked with you through the corridors and to the market. He helped you get a fair price on a bag, a blanket, and a bedroll. The next thing you needed was clothes to blend in.

“What do the women around here wear exactly?” You asked him. He shrugged.

“It depends, I guess” He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he followed you around the clothing stalls like a puppy.

“Gee, that’s a big help.” You teased.

After some more wandering you found a stall selling clothes that looked your size. You purchased a dark blue form-fitting tunic that stopped above your knees and had slits on the sides that went up to your hips. It paired very nicely with the brown pants and brown coat with dark blue highlights you bought as well. Kili helped barter with the merchants since you didn’t know the fair price of things here. In another section of the market, you bought spools of black, blue, and pink thread. You put your belongings in your new bag.

“Are we done?” Kili asked, sounding slightly annoyed. He was ready to go back to the others and be away from so many elves. You sighed and rolled your eyes playfully and nodded. He led you through the busy crowded markets by holding your hand. You were thankful he was in front of you so he couldn’t see your blush. You made it back to the group, who had set up camp in a courtyard garden at the end of a hallway. Just as you arrived two female and two male elves came down the hallway.

One of the males stepped forward, “The bathhouse is ready for you now” he said to the group.

“Bath?! We don’t need no stinkin’ bath!” Exclaimed a dwarf from behind the fire. The rest heartily agreed, not ready to drop their pants on elvish soil it seemed.

“I’d like a bath” you timidly said, not wanting to make a fuss but very much wanting to be clean.

“Very good mistress dwarf, if you’ll follow us,” one of the female elves said. You were tense as you followed the four elves down the corridor, not sure what you were doing.

“You best go with her lad,” Dori said to Kili, “You never know what an elf might try to pull.” He glared at the back of the elves as they walked away. Kili nodded and ran after you.

“Y/N!” He called making you and the elves stop.

“Oh, change your mind, Kili?” You asked with an innocent smile, happy to have his company.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He smiled too.

You were led to a large door that opened into a covered hot spring that flowed over the balcony to create an assumably gorgeous waterfall. Columns lined the outer edge of the room which was split down the middle by a cloth partition. The male elves walked to one side of the divider with Kili in tow, while the females walked to the other. The elves asked that you wash under the heated shower of water off to the side before entering the hot springs. They left you to your own devices.

“I’ve never seen anything like this have you?” You asked Kili across the large room.

“No” He smiled at the wonder in your voice from seeing new things and making discoveries. He thought it was very cute.

You placed your bag and new clothes on the vanity in the corner. You undressed and stepped under the warm shower. You used the bar of soap you found to wash your hair and body. It was the best-smelling soap you’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

“Hey, Kee?” You hollered.

“Yeah?” He yelled back.

“Do you plan on keeping your soap?”

“No…Why?”

“I’ll take it then. I’ll need extra anyway,” And you were so happy you did. That soap made your hair silky smooth and stronger than ever. You rinsed the suds away then stepped into the hot springs.

It felt luxurious. You couldn’t help but moan a little as the heat pulled every knot and tense muscle from you. Relaxed, you floated in the steamy water.

“You still there Kili?” you asked suddenly nervous he’d left you.

“Yeah, I’m here” He replied, “We shouldn’t take too much longer though, Thorin could be back any minute and who knows what kind of a mood he’ll be in.”

That made you enjoy the bath a little faster. Not long after you began drying off and getting dressed. You took the hairbrush and beads and other miscellaneous hair trinkets that were on the vanity. You looked in the mirror at your new outfit. It fit as you thought, though a little snugger in some places than others, hugging your curves to allow for movement yet still baggy for breathability and insulation. Overall, a nice ensemble.

“Ready Y/N?” Kili asked from across the partition.

“Yeah, you can come over, I’m just packing my things.” You replied, folding your old clothes, and putting them in your bag with the rest of your things.

“Here’s the soap” He handed it to you.

“Thanks!” You smiled at him; you simply wrote his flushed cheeks off to the hot water. When you stood, he was able to get a much better look at you in your new clothes.

“A perfect fit I see” He smiled, looking you up and down. He couldn’t help but imagine what you’d look like wearing nothing but his tunic. A line of thought he blushed at and quickly willed away.

“Does it look alright? I don’t know how it’s supposed to fit” You fussed with the hems and the folds trying to make them lay better. He grabbed your hand to make you stop fidgeting.

“You look great,” he said with a genuine smile. You smiled and nodded your appreciation.

You walked back to camp, making moneyless bets on what mood Thorin would be in when he returned.

As you approached Fili saw you in your new outfit and said, “Well look at this…” Making the rest of the company look at you too, “Our wee lass looks like a bona fide middle earther now!” They cheered at your near-complete indoctrination.

“Now she just needs to learn how to fight like one.” Bofur quipped from beside the fire.

“Then I wouldn’t need any of you to protect me!” You put the back of your hand to your forehead feigning a damsel in distress, making the company laugh. You sat on the ground beside the long chair Kili was now examining his weapons in and leaned against it. You held out a stone fish figurine to him.

“As a thank you for helping me” you cleared your throat “…And for being my friend.” You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you knew he was smiling a little around his reed pipe. He took it from your open hands. You know it wasn’t much but it’s all you could offer.

“Maybe one day you can return it to the ocean,” you said, referring to your previous conversation.

“Maybe I will,” he smiled down at you with genuine fondness.

“Bombur!” Bofur called before throwing a sausage to his cousin. The table, which took skilled elfin craftsman months, even years to craft and carve out of solid wood, collapsed under the massive weight of Bombur. Everyone erupted in laughter, it was nice to be part of the group and share in the merriment.

Thorin stopped Balin on their way back to the camp, “We should leave her here,” He said, “She is a liability.”

Balin had a terrible sinking feeling in his round tummy when he thought of splitting you up.

“So what if she is, Thorin?” Balin said near pleading. “Have you ever seen your nephew that happy or open with a girl that quick before? I’ve never seen the lad so engaged in a conversation that didn’t have to do with weapons before last night. So what if she dies on our quest, at least we gave them a chance to happen, and if fate finds their pairing favorable it will all work out!” Balin was desperate to keep you and the young prince together if only to keep the sinking feeling at bay.

Thorin huffed, “Very well, but her blood is not on my hands,” He walked away and into the camp.

Thorin and Balin returned, and the tone became slightly more serious—slightly. The company settled and laid their bedrolls in the grassy parts of the garden. You laid yours out as well and prepped for sleep by removing your shoes and coat. The night was warm enough that your blanket would suffice. You looked up at the stars wondering if any of the constellations were the same as back home. You cuddled your coat to your chest relishing the feel of the soft fabric. The low conversation between Fili and Kili, while they sat on watch across the fire, lulled you to sleep.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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homunculus-argument · 1 year

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In the Earliest Draft Fantasy Book I meant to write in the standard fantasy races with my own twist on them, though eventually I realised that the humans’ story was interesting enough on its own to not try to shoehorn whole different species and their own cultures into it. But one of the features it had was that only humans are actually sexually dimorphic. Elves are all androgynously slender, and though they’re beautiful, their beauty is uncanny and eerie - to human eyes, they almost resemble remarkably tall children. They’re not actually immortal, but simply retain many features that humans consider youthful and childlike into adulthood. Their lifespan is actually only slightly longer than that of modern humans, living into their 90s and sometimes past 100, but from the perspective of humans who make it to 70 if they’re lucky, an elvish lifespan is literally generations.

I didn’t go much into dwarves, but their physical gender distinctions are very subtle, and there are vast cultural differences among dwarven people about how individuals express it. The details of gendered clothing are also too subtle for an untrained human eye to pick out - such as the shapes and designs of belt buckles, braiding of beards and angles of the cut of one’s boots - and in certain dwarven cultures, the idea does not exist at all. Their languages or dialects have no gendered pronouns, and asking an individual which role they play in reproduction is considered an extremely rude and invasive question.

Orcs do not have a concept of paternity, they have mating seasons during which young and childless orcs feel the urge to go wander into distant lands and the fact that they happen to meet other orcs of different clans and mate is considered an unimportant part of this rite of passage. Orc clans are matrilinear to whatever extent they care about bloodlines at all, and the fact that most clans tend to be matriarchal isn’t due to any idea that female orcs would somehow be better leaders - the females are simply slightly physically larger, and statistically more likely to gain the upper hand in the “who’s-calling-the-shots-around-here” brawls that establish who leads the clan.

The only detail in which this ever became relevant in the actual book draft was how they perceive the human habit of constantly being at war and seeking to expand their territory - the people of the other races can’t really tell human men and women apart very well, either, and come to the conclusion that every adult human woman that they see (having visible breasts) must be currently nursing. Of course they are constantly harking after new land to farm, if they're constantly reproducing.

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britcision · 2 years

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The important part of the Vimes theory of monarchy is that it actually applies to every power structure, every organization

Is the person at the top good?

What about their underlings? They all have to be good too

It’s why Carrot never actually outs himself as the king, but it’s equally important to every other part of the watch series and Ankh Morpork itself

And Vetinari is its strongest adherent

See, Ankh Morpork only works the way it does because of the presence of four key players:

- Vetinari

- Vimes

- Carrot

- Lady Sybil Ramkin

(You could make an argument for Colon and Nobby too but I digress)

Without all four of these people, and their interpersonal reactions, the well ordered and prosperous city we see later on couldn’t exist

You can tell, because it very literally didn’t until Carrot arrived, and a dragon showed up to coincidentally introduce Vimes to Lady Sybil

Ankh Morpork was a mess and a hotbed of crime and fuckery, and you never saw many species other than humans; always one or two, but as thriving subcultures? As the influential business owners and captains of industry dwarves and trolls became?

Vetinari, the man on top of the pile, couldn’t finish shaping the city into a neat and well running machine without an additional stabilizing force; something outside the guilds to keep the law, and he did not have that in the alcoholic Vimes

Vimes could not reform first himself and then the watch without the combination of optimistic ideals and muscle to back them up (physical or social) that Carrot and Lady Sybil brought; without them, the watch was something to step over

Carrot couldn’t grow to understand the complexity of the city or the moral problems of control without a cynical, experienced Vimes to show him just why kings don’t solve everything

And Lady Sybil never had a reason to push for the betterment of her city until she directly met someone who wanted more, and would do anything to get it

If any one of them hadn’t stepped up and done their own thing, in their own way, none of it would have worked

By Men At Arms, the second watch book, Vimes is already seeing how many doors Lady Sybil opens for him. He can demand entry to the Assassin’s Guild because he owns the fucking land it’s built on

Lady Sybil knows Vetinari by his first name, and her little address book is the strongest tool in the arsenal of persuasion on the whole Disc

Sam Vimes persuades her the goblins need to be cared for, but Sybil Ramkin persuades the world

Sweet, uncynical Carrot arrives in Ankh Morpork believing you stop thieving by arresting the head of the thieves’ guild - and then fucking does it

It doesn’t work, because he doesn’t understand the mechanism yet, but it makes a point

Carrot is a narrative force that the flow of the Discworld curves around, just like Granny Weatherwax (and he was raised in the Ramtops by Lancre, they probably met)

He’s got the strength of ten because his heart is pure and his muscles thicc and finally, finally, Vimes has met someone who can actually back up all the ideals he’s left to rot in the bottom of a bottle

With Carrot in the watch, why can’t they arrest a dragon? Who’s going to stop them? He’s not just a brick shithouse, he’s a likeable brick shithouse and everyone wants to see what he’ll do next

Carrot? Carrot cares about people, about all people

He’s ready to speak for the people with no voices, and more importantly he’s ready to shut up and listen to those people about what they need

He’s the idealistic core of the modern watch

Lady Sybil pours in funding, respectability, power, and woe betide a single noble in the city who wants to talk down to her husband’s watch

She’s the backbone that gives those ideals staying power

Vimes has already seen what happens when they fail, and seen enough of human nature not to trust a damn thing, and knows how important it is to have true accountability

Compared to Vetinari, he’s almost as idealistic as Carrot, but he has the taste of reality

He’s the determination, the unshakeable core of militant decency who, if he can, will always stand

Vetinari likes to think that everyone is utterly awful all of them time, and often he’s proven right. But he knows the power of narrative, the power of a true Good Man, especially one with the right support

He knows what people need to thrive, and how to best use their potential

He’s the shepherd of it all, the city and watch combined, and any shepherd will tell you the difference a well trained sheepdog makes

Even if it’s a terrier

That’s why it never works that way in real life

“Organized crime” means something very different in the real world, and we need a lot more than just four good people to hold society together

It only takes one corrupt person and the result is cronyism and worse

#discworld #gnu sir terry pratchett #gnu terry pratchett #sir terry pratchett

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acefaun · 10 months

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Can you write a drabble about my King Under the Mountain, Lord Smaug? 🔥🔥You need more dragons on your page, mlady Faun 🐉

Smaug~ Treasure Hoarding

Synopsis: Accidentally coming across the lonely mountain in one of your escapades, you find your idol, Smaug, the King Under the Mountain. Making a deal with a dragon who hoards treasure would be beneficial for a little thief like you, wouldn’t it?

🍃Masterlist🍃 Gender neutral MC!

A/n: I should never expect less from a dragon… Well, my liege, I hope you're impressed! You were a bit vague on the details… but I assumed you wanted something good and not an angsty piece about after his death… 😁 So, you get a dragon friend! …Or whatever Smaug is to you!

–Word Count: 2,359 –

The wind practically whistled beside your ear as the arrow brushed past your head. You should have used a little more caution when passing through the little fishing town, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. Well, they weren’t shy in pursuing you well outside of their city, but they were certainly falling behind. You thought men on horses would have a better chance against someone on foot carrying bags of gold. To be fair, you had more than a few bags, but the rest of your collection was waiting for you beside the mountain just across the lake. As soon as these men left you alone, you wouldn’t squander your chance to get back there and add your recent findings.

Lucky for you, those humans seemed to know when enough was enough and failed to follow you closer to the mountain.

You jovially hummed to yourself, heading over to your hidden wagon, dripping with gold coins and various other treasures and jewels. Though, you knew your beloved treasure would get attention, so you decided it was time to find a good hiding place to settle down. Nothing, you thought, was better than a mountain where humans were wary to follow. Besides, if you were lucky, you’d find treasure already in there. All you’d have to do was fight off whoever owned the treasure. Then you’d have both treasure and a mountain to hide. Besides, this had to be one good mountain for a thief considering no one else dared approach.

Densely neglecting and disregarding the surrounding scenery, you excitedly entered the entrance of the mountain, a wide opening which looked like it should have had closed gates. Lucky for you, this seemed to be a mountain abandoned by dwarves. Giddy with excitement, you pulled your load of treasure behind you, traveling deep into the mountain. You’d only settle for the best hiding place for your collection. After all, you couldn’t have someone just happening across your belongings and mistaking them for unclaimed things; they were yours.

However, it seemed the deeper you went, the heavier the air became. It was as if some magic hung over this place… Ah well, that was none of your concern. If there was a foreboding presence, then there was no doubt your treasure would be safe from intruders.

Standing in the door to another hall, you paused, your eyes glittering. With the lone bag on your back, you abandoned your cart in the hall, sprinting for the large doors before you. Your wide eyes scanned the room you found yourself in, flickering to and fro across the sea of gold. You’d have missed it before had it not been illuminating the entire area with a sheen of golden light.

This was perfect. If those humans didn’t dare enter and find this trove then how could they dare to follow you and find yours? Feeling cocky and certain of yourself, you left your wagon at the door, carrying with you a few bags of gold, the start of your collection if you were to find a good hiding place. You didn’t want to just dump it in with the rest of this collection, you’d never be able to sort yours from the ones already here. Besides, you were prideful and wanted to keep track of how much treasure you personally collected before happening across this magnificent trove of sparkling wonders.

The path was tricky and you, too many times, slipped upon the piles of gold. It was more difficult than walking upon sand dunes; these coins would like to devour you whole. Though, you thought you were having a fairly easy time of it, until the ground beneath you shifted.

Frantically, you clawed at the mountain of coin to gain proper footing, but it was all in vain. Tumbling down, down, and further down the clattering gold, you were nearly buried under the tumbling coins. It was all you could do to keep your head above them, scrambling to free yourself. You suppose people weren’t exaggerating when they said too much gold could kill a person. You hadn’t taken it literally before now as you dug your way free from your shimmering prison.

Feeling a puff of air blow your hair into your face, you froze in place, realizing just why no one had pursued you. This mountain… was the lonely mountain. You were in Erebor. And this dragon that gazed down upon you as if you were a mouse was none other than Smaug, the King under the mountain.

You should have been terrified, you should have feared death, but you could only kneel in awe of your idol from the stories. Once again, your eyes were glittering in delight, and this dragon seemed to sense that odd emotion coming off of you—it wasn’t fear.

The great dragon hissed, “What mortal dares to enter the domain of the Great Smaug?” He meant to intimidate you, but you adored the intensity of his voice. He had astonishingly accomplished the complete opposite of what he intended.

“My Lord Smaug,” you praised him as though he were a god. “I should have realized sooner—an embarrassing mistake on my part that I shan't make again,” you promised vehemently. Despite your mortification at not recognizing the domain of this great King, you soon collected yourself as you continued to praise his magnificence, “The stories speak for themselves, your excellency! The ability to steal a trove of treasure but in a single moment…” You trailed off, ogling the great dragon.

“And you dare threaten to steal from me?” Smaug tilted his head, regarding you with his sharp, serpentine eyes. “I will not part with a single coin; not one piece of it.”

“Of course not, my Lord!” You waved him down from a near tantrum, well aware of just how territorial dragons could be of their gold—you weren't all too different from him, after all. Eagerly, you presented your bag of treasure to him. “I… have a request, otherwise,” you timidly suggested. “I'm not here to steal, but rather… I'd like to strike a deal with a wise and powerful dragon. If you were to permit me, your excellence.”

Your heart raced as his head drew nearer to you. He was so much larger when he was hardly a foot away from you. But the sudden puffs of air that fluttered your hair made you quickly come to realize that he was sniffing you.

“This treasure is not of this mountain,” he huffed, pulling away and laying back atop his hoard. Luckily, you weren't perceived as a threat for the moment. “Speak, mortal.”

“Well, then, my Lord, I just so happen to be a distinguished thief! Similar to you, my great excellency, I, myself, have accumulated a vast wealth of treasures over my time!” You proudly proclaimed your accomplishments, despite many of those treasures being lost. “Well… I've had the misfortune of never having a great place to safekeep them exactly… Until now! Great Smaug, with all your wisdom, would you allow me, a poor soul, to add my bountiful treasures to your hoard for your safekeeping?”

It was quite agonizing for you, waiting for him to deliberate and contemplate. However, only after willingly displaying your wagon of treasure was a deal struck. You were a fortunate soul to be able to store your various treasures in the hoard. Of course, you had your own pile, separate from his on a ledge that hovered over the large trove.

And day after day you would leave, sometimes you wouldn't return for days, but when you did return it was always with trinkets and treasures and gold to add to Smaug’s unnoticeably growing treasure hoard.

However, your back and forth traveling only leads others to become interested in the abandoned, lonely mountain. After all, if someone like you could go in and come back out alive then surely the dragon had either fled or perished. So certain of their beliefs, they entered the mountain after their notorious thief, determined to get back their gold and steal from the limitless and bountiful riches within the depths of the mountain.

Unfortunately for them… You led them to exactly where they wanted to go, only to vanish the minute they lost themselves in the heaps and mountains of gold.

“L- Look at all of this… We'll never have to work a day in our lives!”

“But that bastard thief… We can't have ‘em snatchin’ our gold. Where's that little rat?!”

“Here,” you announce, revealing your position atop a pile of gold, high above where they stood. You held a sword in your hands, but you weren't intending to use it. Your eyes narrowed, but the smile on your lips betrayed your glee. “You've made a mistake in coming here. This gold is not yours for the taking.”

“We're not here to ask for permission, thieving scum!”

“I can't pity a poor soul like you,” you solemnly replied, unconcerned with their approach. “Your excellency, these mortal men mean to steal from you.”

The men froze at the foot of the gold lump, their eyes widening as the gold coin began cascading down like a waterfall. However, the more gold that fell, the more horror filled them.

“That… That’s the dragon, that is!”

“Smaaaauug! We're gonna die!”

Their squeals didn't last long as blazing heat filled the room, burning the foolish men to a crisp. The sight enthralled you as you grinned, standing atop the head of your beloved King under the mountain. “We surely make a great team, my Lord.” You hummed in content, sitting down as you leaned against his horns. He too burrowed himself beneath the cool coin that surrounded him, relaxing atop his hoard. “You know,” you added thoughtfully, “I put a lot of my stuff in here and I really owe you for taking me in and protecting all of it. If there's anything you ever want, lemme know! Nothings off limits!”

Though Smaug remained silent, his inaudible rumbling revealed his intrigue to your offer. Finally, he revealed his desire, “There is a golden ring that interests me… A golden ring of power. It is easy to recognize… Should you come across such an invaluable treasure as this, I should command that you bring it to me.”

“Yes, sir, my Lord! That ring is as good as yours if it ever crosses my path!” Your promises are always well kept, though he knew the chance of you coming across the ring was slim to none… He had to demand it.

Well beyond that day, you continued to bring to him your trinkets and treats for months… years… centuries. Such a long, long time. Smaug would have otherwise not cared for the passage of time were it not for your coming and going, and his occasional leaving the mountain.

Again sitting with you amongst the piles of gold, he commented, “You… are an odd human.”

You inclined your head curiously to regard his larger figure. “Human? My Lord, I'm half human.”

His hums of intrigue vibrated the gold you sat upon as he mused aloud, “That explains the odd inhuman scent that follows you. An impressive little mortal.” Only being half human, it was no wonder you could accomplish the feats you did and bring back as many gifts as you have the past centuries.

“I’m sure I smell profusely of dragon and gold at this point,” you couldn’t help but joke in response. But even if you did smell of nothing but dragon and gold, you were proud of it. You’d wear this scent like a badge of honor, proud to be the mortal companion of the great and powerful King under the mountain. “I’m glad to be with you, my King.”

You sat relaxed atop a gold hill, a reddish scaled tail trailed around you, peeking out from beneath the thousands of golden pieces. Beside you was a full view of your dragon friend amidst his hoard. You were determined to stay by his side and continue bringing him treasures until you found the ring he once mentioned. It was the only desire he’d ever named to you and you were determined to one day come across it and gift it to him.

Smaug, on the other hand, was content with you going and coming with your menial treasures as if you, yourself were a mouse-sized dragon with your own nest-sized hoard. You were oddly adorable, something he didn’t imagine he could feel about another living creature. Knowing what he knew… it was safe to say he was fond of his little half-human.

His tail coiled further around you, not ensnaring you or trapping you, but comfortingly surrounding you, claiming you. “My precious little treasure…” His voice came out as a low rumble as he buried his head further in his pile of gold.

You were convinced he was muttering about his hoard of gold, ignorant to the way his tail curled possessively around you, the scales nudging against your back. You simply took this as an affectionate brush, leaned further against his tail, patting his scales in return. How were you supposed to know that you’d suddenly become a part of a dragon’s hoard? And should you fail to ever return to him… Well, those unfortunate cities would understand why it is unwise to part a dragon from his treasure.

#the hobbit #lord of the rings #lotr smaug #middle earth #the lonely mountain #the hobbit fanfic #lord of the rings fanfic #smaug x reader

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