#especially dwalin

[casually-eat-my-soul]

I’m just picturing bilbo talking about courting habit of hobbits to the company (maybe ori was asking questions idk) and he off handily mentions that hobbits court via food.

Cue the company wondering that if them eating his entire pantry and him letting them means something. This increases into an argument wether over whose the better dwarf. (Not that any of them are planning on doing anything but they were trying to figure out how to let Bilbo down and it spiralled into who was the best)

“I have better hair”

“I’m a BETTER FIGHTER”

“Well I can cook, Hobbits like food and lots of it.”

Thorin is silently stewing but can’t say anything. That is until Gandalf says that the courting only counts if the hobbit themselves cooks the food for you and serves you. (He thinks the drama is hilarious and wanted more entertainment)

The entire company then remembers that only only person he technically served was Thorin with the soup he cooked.

This only makes the fighting worse, and makes Thorin more smug. Fili and Kili are outraged

“We’re both royalty and younger and more attractive. What does uncle have that we don’t”

But they use this against him when he’s being rude to bilbo “oh be careful uncle, he might trade you in for a better model”

Balin is overjoyed because bilbo is persuasive and politically smart and doesn’t like gold. Dwalin doesn’t know whether to clown on Thorin or be scared over his future as a royal guard because bilbo is somehow worse than Thorin when it comes to death defining stunts.

The rest of the company still argues up until Thorin and bilbos wedding whether or not bilbo was counting them as well. They also make bets because or course they do.

Gandalf takes great, great pleasure in claiming credit for bringing the couple together but honestly he was just looking for entertainment.

[eros-ghoulette]

sometimes i think about all the tattoos and piercings the dwarfs would have

[brethilach]

Headcanon: Dwarves have event-oriented culture(s). Let me explain.

When I say "event-oriented" I mean that their activies and doings in the day are centered around events rather than strict timeframes, and therefore do not "begin" until a certain amount of people have shown up. Most people come and go as they please, parties often go late into the night, many have a "if you're on time, you're early; if you're late, you're on time" mentality. For example, if someone says they're throwing a party at 6:00, what they're actually saying is that you're setting up the party at 6:00 and the party itself won't start until a couple hours later — and for parties at someone's house specifically, there is no set time to end. People will often put a delay of at least 30 mins just to be sure the host is ready, and people closer to the host might arrive before the scheduled time to help organize. So if you show up on time, you're expected to help set up. Then the party will often go for hours on end, so most just show up when they can and then stay as late as they want. Time is (often) treated like a suggestion and it is totally acceptable or even sometimes socially expected for you to be late (because the set time can sometimes actually be the time people begin preparing for the event).

Most real-life event-oriented cultures are centered in places near the equator (Brazil especially comes to mind for me), and I think the reason behind this is because there's so much warmth and time during the day that it isn't much of a problem for events to go late into the night — whereas for places north of the equator (who usually have stricter time-oriented cultures), there's only so much time in the day before things start getting very dark and cold (impractical for... everything, really), so you need to be more strict with how you spend your time.

For Dwarves, I think it would be the opposite scenario, but would still come back to the same cultural phenomenon. Because most Dwarves live underground in the mountains and probably don't see much of the Sun in their day to lives, they don't need to worry about it getting dark or cold outside because they're not outside all the time to begin with!! I'm thinking about how the Dwaves in the book actually stop Bilbo from getting a lamp for the meeting because they just "like the dark" and tell him that there are "many hours left until dawn" (when it seems as though it's already fairly late for Bilbo at that point).

I don't think they would see (solar) time as a binding. They'd see it as just a guideline at best (and probably have their own methods of keeping time too, actually, but that's a different conversation).

This could be reason behind why all of the Dwarves arrived to Bilbo's house at drastically different times (at least in the book) and the "party" didn't actually begin until most everyone was there. The only one amongst them I think who was really considered late (in the movie) was Thorin, but no one even mentioned it after he said he "lost his way" and explained he just had a hard time finding Bilbo's house (they probably kept their mouths shut in part because he's their King, but even when Gandalf pointed out that he wasn't there before, Dwalin seemed very nonchalant about it).

Think about what happens in the book: Thorin tells Bilbo (in his letter) that they will meet at the Green Dragon to depart from the Shire at 11:00, and explicitly says they expected him to be "punctual." Bilbo wakes up at 10:45 in a panic, rushes out of the door, and runs a mile south to arrive at the Green Dragon "just on the stroke of eleven". When Bilbo apologizes, Dwalin says "don't be precise, and don't worry!" (despite the fact that the letter seemed to clearly state that he should be precise). If you put this in the context of a Dwarven event-orientated culture, they would have meant they would meet at the Green Dragon at 11:00 to prepare for departure. Whereas Bilbo most likely would have intepreted it as though they departing at 11:00 exactly. Thorin's definition of being precise (in this sense) would be "you should start preparing the leave your house at 11" — rather than "we're leaving the Green Dragon at 11 and if you're not there by then we'll just leave without you" (which is probably what Bilbo thought). I imagine that Shire-Hobbits likely have a much stricter time-orientated culture where events start whether or not you've shown up, you're expected to be early regardless of the set time, and being more than a few minutes late is like a social death sentence (just taking into consideration Bilbo's behavior and the fact that jirt pretty obviously based the Shire on pre-industrial Britain)

This is just my headcanon though! I just think it's a neat concept to think about.

[bluecaeriart]

All of the individual full bodies from my piece for The Unexpected Collab!!  I really wanted to post these separately/post them in general cuz I worked so hard on everyone and i’m so so so proud of how they all came out and all of the detail work and O;IAHRO;GIHAEO;RGHAEO;RIGHAO;ERIGH (ALSO BONUS GLOIN BY HIMSELF CUZ HES MOSTLY COVERED BY OIN)

Here’s the full piece with a link to the fic it went to as well!!!

[ashyjingles]

god i ADORE the hobbit films. ive seen a fair few people criticize some choices made in them, and i cant ever say i entirely disagree, but like. this scene alone makes up for every fault in the films:

“You sit in these vast halls with a crown upon your head, but you are lesser now than you have ever been.”  “I am your king.”  “You were always my king. You used to know that once. You cannot see what you have become.”  “Go. Get out. Before I kill you.”

GOD THEY MEAN EVERYTHING TO ME. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?? DO YOU????????

[fannyspammy]

Me every 2 minutes watching the Hobbit movies in 2022:

slayyyyyyyyy

slayyyyy king

sLAYYYYYYY

[shirefantasies]

A Headcanon For Each Member of Thorin’s Company

Mini post between full request posts! Just felt like jotting these down hehe

✧ Balin knows a little bit of Elvish, but never lets on to that because, quite simply, it’s infinitely funnier not to. What fun would it be letting the elves shit talk him if they knew he picked up on bits of it?

✧ Dwalin’s dream wife is someone super soft and sweet. He’d die before he admits it, but he loves the idea of being the hero for his princess even if he acts like it’s an inconvenience.

✧ Some of it is natural, too, hardening from many of life’s experiences, but part of why Thorin puts on such a tough act is because he actually feels really awkward in conversations. For example, thus man dwarf cannot flirt to save his life.

✧ Oin hates being dismissed because of his hearing, but also? It can so be used to his advantage. The younger ones are squabbling over something stupid and trying to bring him i to it? Oops, sorry lads, can’t hear ya.

✧ Gloin is the proudest father. He can barely go a few minutes without busting out his locket’s picture of Gimli or telling a story about him…or both! Practically ready to throw hands with Bombur, who isn’t even competitive, on who has the coolest son.

✧ Bifur was quite the heartbreaker back in his heyday. He’s still a great flirt, but less people can understand him now so his lines often go unnoticed.

✧ Bofur quietly envies his brother’s family. He may not want fourteen kids or anything, but being around the wee ones warms his heart and he especially lives the idea of having a little girl someday if Mahal so blesses him.

✧ I of course adore the fanon/cast canon that Bombur has a huge family, but also? By dwarf standards his wife is super hot, so the others may make fun of him, but can’t deny that he scores!

✧ Dori is a way better cook than he seems like he is. The role tends to get passed to Bombur as he loves it the most, but since he grew up taking care of his brothers Dori knows his way around the kitchen!

✧ Nori loves cats. If he sees a stray in a village he offers it food and coaxes it over. The others marvel at how much the creatures love him, too, like some sort of instinctive trust.

✧ The others talk big about the ravishing women they’ve seen and he tries to keep up, but Ori doesn’t really actually get it. That’s how he realizes that, even though there isn’t such a word for it, he is demisexual. He also is more attracted to human women, they just seem softer and sweeter to him.

✧ Part of the reason Fili carries so many blades is because he enjoys crafting them. It’s a skill he learned from his uncle Thorin, standing at his side and helping before taking up the craft himself.

✧ Fili was the one who defended Kili from derision by other young dwarves when he chose to learn archery, an unusual form of combat in their culture. From then on, Kili vowed to become stronger and faster so he could defend those he loves, too.

✧ Bilbo bonds with Ori over sewing and knitting, smiling as he learns he has company because quite frankly he never thought a dwarf would know such arts, let alone join him as they teach each other.

[twinqq]

"thorin has decided to stay with bilbo in shire" "bilbo has decided to stay with thorin in erebor" okay now listen. hear me out. it's both.

their homes is so important to both of them, because a huge part of bilbo's motivation to help dwarves on their quest is that bilbo loves his home dearly and wants for the company to have a home, too, and thorin's entire character is built around erebor.

so after the battle of five armies bilbo stays in the erebor for a bit, to help here and there, to see how the weight lifts of his friends' shoulders and they are happier than ever, to watch over wounded thorin and talk to him about a lot of things, and, when thorin is fully healed and he's on the throne again, he says his goodbyes to everyone, kiss thorin farewell (gently, in the forehead (thorin, the great and almighty king under the mountain, is bowing down for the little hobbit), while stroking his hair) and goes back to the shire.

they are writing letters to each other all the time. thorin has memorized every little curve of bilbo's handwriting, while he carefully read through shire's gossip and pies recepies and so, so many love words. bilbo learns a bit of khuzdul and everything about how's erebor restoration is going. thorin's letters is full of marks and word crossed out to the point where they cannot be seen (bilbo knows, that the words are "i miss you")

more importantly, every once in a while bilbo pack his things, hangs the "gone to visit a friend" sign and goes to erebor. he has a status of a king's quest and gold jewelry in his hair. he teaches dwarves new recepies, and works in a garden he planted, and feasts with his friends, and also provides helpful advice on the council meetings he attends. he's with thorin every second he can do so.

at some point he starts to bring frodo with him, and every member of the company adores him (even dwalin. especially dwalin, even he's not showing it.). thorin teaches him how to use a sword, listens to his rants about everything, and, if some dwarves catch their king on his throne entirely unmoving because some hobbit kid has fell asleep by his side, well, it's not like there haven't been rumors.

and, every once in a while, thorin is declaring that he is going on a hunt, or a travel to foreign lands, or something like that, and will take only his closest men with him, and slips away to the shire. company parts ways with him somewhere on the road, and thorin quietly arrives in bag end. guess who's changing in clothes that bilbo altered specially for thorin because no, you won't go to the market fully armoured, and is learning how to make pastry and how to choose vegetables on the market, and is helping with routine tasks like carrying heavy pumpkins and scooping them, and is also fixing broken cart or door or shutter because yes, he may be a king, but he's also a skilled craftsman. yep, you've guessed it.

thorin also sometimes helps bilbo's neighbors on occasion, and they fear changes to curiosity (oh, who's this very quiet and stoic dwarf who lives with you, mister baggins?)

also he's carving toys and little trinkets that go either to bilbo's shelves or to shire's children. also frodo is radiating with happiness every time uncle thorin is visiting bag end. also thorin gets to see how the acorn bilbo planted in his garden grows into beautiful oak.

in erebor bilbo can break out of the constancy that sometimes oppresses him, and in bag end thorin can be domestic, soft and vulnerable. but what's more important is that they are together, and they are home.

they are like hades and persephone folks...

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

The Wandering Widow

Chapter 12

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: while recovering from the close call with Azog, you and the rest of the company seek shelter in a nearby tavern. unfortunately, it happens to be a tavern you have a lot of history with. will your traveling companions discover the connection between you and the seedy tavern?

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, attempted fingering, brief descriptions of bloody wounds/injuries

Author's Note: This one ended up being a looong chapter but the next few installments include scenes I've been excited about writing for a while😊 I've already started writing the next one so hopefully it shouldn't take too long to post! Thank you so much to everyone who has already shown so much support to the previous chapters. It really makes my day getting to read all of your sweet comments😘

Word count: 3473

You’re vaguely aware of the sun shining down on your face, warming your skin. You squint at the bright light before the sun is blocked out by a shadowy form standing over you. It calls out your name and you groan in response.

“Am I dead?” you ask and the shadow laughs. “Not for lack of trying,” Kili says and you peel an eye open to squint at him.

“Thorin?” Kili nods to where the others are sitting a few feet away from you. You turn your head to see Gandalf crouching over a still-unconscious Thorin. Before you can start to panic, the wizard waves a hand over his face and Thorin jolts awake. He calls out your name hoarsely and Gandalf motions to where you still lay.

“Don’t worry,” he assures him, “she’s just fine.”

Dwalin and Gandalf help him to his feet and Kili brings a gentle hand to your back as you sit up.

Shaking off the help, Thorin takes a few steps closer, towering over you. He extends a hand out, and while you would normally wave it off, this time you let yourself take it. Sliding your hand into his you let him pull you to your feet until you’re standing face to face.

He takes a step back, keeping his hand intertwined in yours as he looks you over head to toe.

Your head is still throbbing from where you were knocked to the ground. Thorin’s gaze falls on the wound, his eyes widening in concern.

“I’m fine,” you assure him before he can overreact. Especially considering he’s in much worse shape than you are.

“You could have died,” he whispers hoarsely, brows furrowing in concern.

“Well you made almost getting killed by an orc look like so much fun,” you shrug, “I thought I’d join you.”

He shakes his head with a sigh, clearly satisfied you can’t be too badly injured if your sense of humor is still intact.

Reluctantly he drops your hand, stepping around you to address a relieved-looking hobbit.

“And you,” he snaps, “what were you doing? You nearly got yourself killed!”

Bilbo blinks in shock. “Did I not say that you would be a burden?” he continues, stalking closer to the hobbit. “That you would not survive in the wild? That you had no place amongst us?”

Bilbo drops his gaze sadly and you’re about to give Thorin another head injury when he continues.

“I have never been so wrong in all my life,” Thorin sighs, enveloping the hobbit in a warm embrace.

“You saved my life, you saved her life,” he gestures to you with a rare smile.

“But I am sorry I doubted you.”

“No, I would have doubted me too,” Bilbo assures him. “I’m not a hero or a warrior. Not even a burglar.”

You laugh and step forward to give the hobbit’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as the eagles fly off overhead with the sunrise.

Thorin suddenly goes still beside you. You follow his gaze over Bilbo’s shoulder and gasp.

“Is that what I think it is?” Bilbo asks as you all walk closer to the edge of the cliff. Gazing in awe at the single solitary peak sitting on the horizon.

“Erebor,” Gandalf confirms. “The lonely mountain, the last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle Earth.”

“Our home,” Thorin smiles and looks over at you, a warm feeling blooming in your chest as he interlaces your fingers with his again.

You don’t tear your gaze from his until a chirping noise catches your attention as a dark bird glides overhead, seemingly headed to the same place as the rest of you.

“A raven!” Oin exclaims. “The birds are returning to the mountain!"

“That my dear, Oin,” Gandalf corrects, “is a thrush.”

“But we’ll take it as a sign,” Thorin says from beside you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “A good omen.”

“You’re right,” Bilbo agrees, “ I do believe the worst is behind us.”

“I should hope so,” you sigh. “I for one don’t think I could stomach seeing one more orc until I’ve gotten at least a few ales in me.”

“We should find lodging in a tavern tonight,” Thorin agrees, “somewhere we can rest before continuing our journey.”

“Oh no!” you gasp turning to face him fully.

“Oin did you hear that?” you call out to the healer. “Thorin just agreed with me, it must be worse than we thought.”

The rest of the company chuckles as you all start to gather your things.

“I do believe The Wandering Widow is only a few miles from us,” Gandalf supplies. You freeze at the name, looking up to see the wizard giving you a mischievous grin.

Of course, you mutter to yourself, why wouldn’t Gandalf know your connection to that specific tavern?

You narrow your eyes at the wizard, daring him to reveal what he knows to the rest of the group. He just gives you a conspiratory wink and continues down the rocky path.

That wizard had better keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The tavern is exactly as you remember it.

It’s been a few years since you last set foot on the booze-soaked floorboards, but not a single thing has changed since then. The decor is exactly the same, with the smell of mead and stale smoke still lingering in the air.

Even after all this time, you know there’s still a chance that the staff will recognize you. So you elect to disappear among your kin, sticking close to the group with your hood pulled over your head and your gaze cast downwards.

Gandalf split off from the group upon your arrival, volunteering himself to haggle with the owner over reserving rooms for all of you.

“He’s been gone awhile,” Bilbo remarks from behind the large mug of ale set in front of him. He took all of one sip of the drink before trying to surreptitiously slide the drink further away from him without anyone noticing.

“I’ll go check on him,” Balin offers, sliding his chair back.

“No,” you stop him, “I’ll go, I could use another drink anyways,” you lie.

While it is true you’re not nearly as drunk as you’d like to be, you suspect you already know the reason for the delay.

You can feel Thorin’s eyes on the back of your head as you go, reluctantly pulling off your hood as you duck out of the room.

Your mood has noticeably shifted with the anxiety over returning to this tavern with the company in tow. Thorin made no mention of your change in mood during the journey here, but you know he's noticed by the way you keep catching him watching you with that concerned look in his eyes.

Thankfully he doesn’t bring it up. Either because he’s too relieved you’re both alive to pick a fight right now or because he can sense how badly you’d like to avoid this conversation with him right now.

You can hear the raised voices before you even push the door open.

Sure enough, the wizard is in a very heated argument with the tavern owner.

“Have you gone mad?! No establishment in all of Middle Earth would charge that much per night!”

“Well, good luck finding another establishment willing to accommodate that many dwarves at once.” Grumbles the red-faced proprietor. “1500 a night. Take it or leave it.”

“Bertram Blackwood,” you sigh dramatically from the doorway, “are you trying to take advantage of my friend here?”

Both of the men turn to look at you in surprise. Bertram whispers your name in surprise.

“As I live and breathe,” he chuckles dryly. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you anytime soon. Not since you disappeared like a thief in the night.”

“I didn’t actually steal anything,” you remind him, “I only took the money I was owed.”

“Took a lot more than that,” he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest, “lost a lotta my regular customers when my headlining act up and left.”

“Yes I do recall hearing lots of complaints across the land when a famous tavern dancer suddenly stopped performing,” Gandalf chuckles.

How he was able to figure out that was you, is a mystery you aren’t prepared to solve right now.

“I’m afraid I was presented with an opportunity I couldn’t refuse. But that’s not important right now. Perhaps, you’d be willing to give my friends and me a discount? For old time's sake?”

You bat your eyelashes and try to give Bertram your most charming smile.

He just scoffs at your attempts. “If you want to bring ‘old times’ into it, it’s just gonna cost you more, girl.”

“We’ve been traveling for some time now, and many of us are injured,” Gandalf pleads, trying to appeal to his emotional side. You should have explained to the wizard that Bertram Blackwood has no emotions to appeal to.

“You think you’re the first to show up on my doorstep with some sob story? You don’t stay at The Wandering Widow for a vacation, you stay when everything else has gone to shit.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “What if we pay you the regular rate and…” you huff reluctantly, “I’ll put on an encore performance while we’re here.”

A triumphant smile creeps onto Bertram’s face and Gandalf raises a brow in surprise.

“But!” you stare them both down, “you both have to swear that you won’t breathe a word of this to the others. Especially, Thorin.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

After swearing them both to secrecy and paying for the rooms, you and Gandalf return to the others with arms full of ale.

“Everything alright?” Thorin asks the both of you as you slide another drink over to him.

“It is now,” you assure him, as you bring another mug to your lips.

“The owner was trying to overcharge us but we handled it. We’ll have several rooms for the next few nights.”

He nods tersely and goes to reach for the ale you set in front of him.

As soon as he lifts his arm he visibly flinches in discomfort, reminding you that hours ago a warg tried to turn him into a chew toy.

“Have you had Oin look at those bites yet?” you ask and he nods over to where Oin and several other dwarves are slumped against the table, surrounded by several empty tankards of ale. “Our healer seems otherwise engaged at the moment.”

“I can do it,” you offer, not wanting to see him pushing through the pain any longer.

He raises a brow, unsure about your healing abilities. And rightfully so after all your botched attempts to patch the both of you up as children when you were out getting into trouble.

“I can at least dress it for you,” you assure him, “so it doesn’t get infected. It’s not like I’m offering to perform surgery or anything.”

“As long as you promise not to use any sharp objects near me,” he grumbles, slowly rising from the table with a groan.

“I’m afraid I can make no such promises,” you sigh, leading him up the stairs to your rooms.

“As long as I don’t lose a limb I suppose you can’t make things worse,” you glare over your shoulder at him, and the small smirk he tries to hide as he climbs up the stairs behind you.

Reaching the end of the hallway, you push open the door to a spacious bedroom. Thorin closes the door behind you with a click as you shrug off your cloak.

It's only then that you realize what you’ve just volunteered yourself for. The two of you are now alone for the first time since… he convinced you to end your survival fast using sexual favors.

And if memory serves, the warg bit him around the midsection which means… “You’ll have to take off your shirt,” you instruct him, purposefully trying to avoid making eye contact.

Instead you busy yourself by digging through your discarded bag, searching for the tinctures and bandages you might need.

Taking a shaky breath you finally turn to face him, biting your bottom lip absentmindedly at the sight of him pulling his shirt overhead. His back is still to you and you let your eyes trace the corded muscles of his back.

You’re so lost in thought that you forget to avert your gaze as he turns to face you. He smirks when he catches you watching him. “See something you like?”

You roll your eyes, strolling closer to him with your arms full of medical supplies.

“Just sit down,” you grumble, tossing the items onto the bedside table before giving his shoulder a gentle shove until he sits down in front of you.

Your fingers absentmindedly run down his chest as you assess the wound at his midsection. Teeth marks line his abdomen in a semi-circle, still red and angry.

You bite down on your lip again, not expecting it to be this bad. It's a miracle he walked all the way down the mountain without showing any signs of distress. Whatever healing Gandalf used to bring him back to consciousness must have helped to keep the discomfort to a minimum.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” you mumble, walking across the room to dip a clean rag in the basin of hot water. If he hadn’t been wearing several heavy layers that warg would have bitten right through him.

“As are you,” he reminds you, wincing when you gently bring the damp rag to the edge of his wound. Bringing your free hand to his shoulder, you step closer to Thorin. Until you’re standing directly between his legs.

When you bring the rag back to the edge of the wound he tries to jerk away again. But this time you maintain a firm grasp on his shoulder to keep him in place.

He clenches his jaw and his hands snake up your thighs to rest on your hips. Fingers dig deeper into your flesh with every stroke of the cloth. His grip is so strong it should be painful, but instead you have to suppress a moan at the feeling of Thorin's fingers bruising your skin.

“I haven’t yelled at you yet,” he grinds out, trying to distract himself from the pain.

“You yelled at the hobbit,” you remind him, “isn’t that close enough?”

He lets out a weak laugh as you set the cloth down and pick up the tin of salve beside you.

“You jumped in first,” he grunts as your sticky fingertips brush against his skin. “He was just following your lead.”

“I suppose,” you hum absentmindedly.

“It was reckless,” he grumbles.

“Mmhmm,” you apply the rest of the salve to the wound.

“You almost died right in front of me,” he reminds you.

“I know, I was there,” you reach for the bandages, beginning to wrap his wound.

“I almost lost you,” he whispers, “I- you can’t do something that dangerous again.”

Your fingers go still on the bandages and you look up at his face.

“Why do you think I did it in the first place? Out of boredom? You were the one who ran head first into the jaws of a warg, did you think I was going to just sit back and watch you lose your head?”

“Is losing your own head any better?” he narrows his eyes at you.

“This is the part where you thank me for quite literally sticking my neck out for you.” You tie off the bandage at his midsection a little tighter than necessary before tossing the excess off to the side. “Is it really so hard to accept help when you need it Thorin?”

Crossing your arms over your chest you level a steely glare at him.

You expect him to return the look, but instead he just reaches for the discarded rag beside you. Brushing your hair out of your face, he lifts the rag up to your head. You try to jerk yourself away but his free hand is still at your hip and he holds you firmly in place.

“Is it really so hard to accept help when you need it?” he throws your words back at you and you relent with an irritated huff.

He gently wipes all the blood and dirt from your face. Removing all the evidence from your most recent brush with death. As if it will be enough to make either of you forget you almost died in each other's arms. The only time you want to be lying on top of Thorin like that is in a much different scenario.

A scenario you can't help but imagine, now that you're alone together again.

As Thorin focuses on cleaning your face, you focus on studying his. His brows are furrowed in concentration as he cleans the head wound.

Thorin stills when he catches you watching him, and you don’t bother to divert your gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that, lass,” he growls in warning.

“Or what?” you tilt your head at him, the edges of your mouth quirking up into a smirk.

He remains still as a statue under your challenging gaze. You slowly glide your hands up his bare chest, wrapping your arms around your neck. He growls your name under his breath, nostrils flaring as he tries to restrain himself from taking the bait.

You know it's probably not the best time for it. You’re both injured, and it’s been a very long day. But that only seems further reason for the two of you to release the tension on each other.

You lean forward to rest your forehead against his and he drops the cloth, encircling his arms around your waist.

“Can you tell me what you’re sitting on right now, my king?” you whisper.

“A bed,” he grumbles as you gently press your lips against his forehead.

“And do you recall what you said would happen the next time we came across a bed?” you pull back to look at his face and his eyes darken at the memory of the last time your limbs were entangled together like this.

“I only said I would fuck you in a bed,” he smirks up at you, “I didn’t say it would be the next one.”

“Suit yourself,” you sigh dramatically, “I’ll just have to ask someone else.” You go to pull away from him and with a low growl, he yanks you right back in until you’re practically in his lap. He releases a hand from your waist to grip your jaw, pulling your face down to his.

“There will be no one else,” he growls before crashing his lips against yours.

You moan against the kiss before bringing your hands up to his shoulders, giving him a gentle shove back onto the bed. You break your lips from his to crawl your way up his body. Careful to not jostle the wound at his abdomen.

You’re about to seat yourself on Thorin’s lap when he suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, flipping you both over so he is towering above you.

Burying his face in your hair, he slowly glides his tongue against the junction where your neck meets your shoulder. Playfully biting at your skin you wrap your arms around his neck again, pulling him down closer to you with a deep moan.

Thorin's free hand brushes against your side, tracing the curves of your body all the way down to your ass. “Did you really think I would pass up an opportunity to have you all to myself?”

He snakes a hand down your trousers, cupping the heat between your legs. You tighten your arms around his neck, keeping your bodies glued together as he starts to tease your dripping entrance.

His lips brush the shell of your ear. “You’re all mine tonight,” he whispers before plunging a finger all the way inside of you.

You open your mouth in surprise, a cry of pleasure traveling up from your diaphragm. But before it can pass your lips you’re interrupted by the creak of the door swinging open.

You both jump at the intrusion, turning to see Kili and Fili standing frozen in the doorway with eyes wide. “Uhhh,” Kili’s jaw goes slack as he grips a bloodied rag in his hand. “Kili, uh, sliced his hand on a broken bottle,” Fili mumbles trying to look anywhere but at the two of you. “Balin said you were already patching up Thorin so we thought…”

With a heavy sigh, you let your head fall back against the pillow beneath you, looking up at Thorin. He narrows his eyes at you, subtly shaking his head.

“Come on in,” you grumble across the room, reluctantly pushing Thorin off of you.

Next

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir

@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly

@lyl1pad @bruhk @eri-s-big-sis

[brainrotbabe24]

Okay HELLOOO so i wanna request Thorins company with a reader who is very feminine and pretty and stuff, but simultaneously very bossy, assertive, dominant and likes telling people what to do and stuff?? If that makes sense lol

Have a good day/night!!!

HI!! This was such a fun one to write! I'm not sure if it answers the questions correctly, but I just got lost in the sauce with this one and went crazy, lol 💖😂

Balin: Balin admires your assertiveness. He finds it very fitting for you to be in command with your no-bullshit, bossy attitude. Balin would regularly turn to you for support, and he always trusted your honest opinions. He saw you as his advisor when he advises Thorin. Plus, your appearance only adds to your ability to persuade others…who could say no to those beautiful eyes. To him, you are a double threat—both in personality and looks—who can command respect and loyalty from anyone.

Dwalin: Dwalin is in love. The moment you started leading the group and demanding respect, he was captivated. Not to mention, your looks took his breath away. He loves a dominant, commanding presence who can lead a group, demand attention, and know their way around a weapon. *wink wink* Dwalin will always have your back, just as you have his. To him, you are an incredibly capable person.

Óin: Oin is glad you can handle yourself. The second you joined the group, he feared you might need constant protection, but you quickly proved him wrong. You instantly became an influential part of the group, guiding Thorin's decisions, earning the trust and respect of the group, and even outshining some of the most seasoned warriors. Your presence reassured Óin that you were vital to their mission.

Glóin: Link Oin, Gloin had doubts but was quickly shut up when he saw you fight. Your skills…your knowledge… your command. You dominated the battlefield, earning his respect. Even with blood splattered all over you, you were still gorgeous. Since then, Glóin has been ready to drop everything and listen to you, knowing you are someone worth following.

Bifur: Bifur is inspired by your assertive personality. You don't address the group broadly; instead, you call out each person, demand perfection, and engage in personal, intimate conversations. You look at each one of them as their own person. He likes that you take charge while ensuring everyone is seen and valued. You inspire him and make his heart soar whenever you call out his name with a wink.

Bofur: Bofur is lost in your beauty. He can barely focus on what you say when his mind drifts to how soft your lips look when bossing around the group. How your brow furrows when something isn't up to your standards. How you let your guard down just a little when someone compliments you. His mouth goes dry, and his knees are weak whenever he's near you, lost in admiration. Sadly, your commands are lost to him.

Bombur: Bombur is scared of you. You are one wickley, intimidating person. Your commanding presence and fiery attitude make him cautious not to cross your path. However, he can't help but steal glances, admiring how the sunlight dances on your skin.  Although he is scared, he starts to think he might have misunderstood you. Maybe there is more to you than a bossy attitude—he might even start looking up to you. 

Ori: Ori finds your personality and appearance to be a sick joke. How could someone some sweet, so tender, so feminine bark such harsh orders? He is caught between feeling like he must listen to you and listening to his brother, Dori, who seems to contradict everything you say. Ori is lost but knows that all he wants is to follow you, even if it means going against his brother's wishes.

Dori: Dori is confused and conflicted about you. He feels like he should dislike you and how you boss people around, especially his brothers. But at the same time, he can't help but admire you and how you can control situations, get his brothers to listen, and cooperate. It's a love-hate relationship for Dori, as he both resents and respects your ability to lead.

Nori: Nori grumbles whenever he hears your commanding voice directing the company. He hates being told what to do. He hates how your face will twist into a smirk when he jokes with you, and you already have a comeback set up.  He hates your soft smile, and he hates that he loves hearing you say his name. But he especially hates it when he finds himself obeying your commands without hesitation. Hate is a strong word for Nori…he just hates how you make him feel. Yet he could never fully hate you—not when you look like a perfect creation of Aulë, as beautiful as Yavanna herself.

Thorin: It's complicated. Thorin constantly feels like he is competing with you, as if you're planning to undermine him at any moment. He glares, snarls, and pushes past you, rejecting your demands. Yet, there is one thing he is a complete bumbling idiot about—your laugh. The way you laugh is dangerous. It's infectious, bold, and handsome, and it takes his breath away. Despite all the tension and jealousy, when you laugh, Thorin feels safe, and all his competitive instincts vanish.

Fíli: "Yes, mommy!" Fili is utterly devoted to you. Your commanding orders make his heart race, and your beauty leaves him blushing. He often finds himself staring, and when your eyes lock, he waits eagerly for your sass —he craves it. Fili would do anything for you. He would get on his knees for you, worship you, even die for you.

Kíli: Kili can be a bit of a brat when it comes to your authority. He laughs at the way you hold yourself, demanding respect and directing the group to do things. Pfft. He practically hates it, wanting to prove that he's your equal. But when you snap back at him and grab his shirt, he finds himself caving. "I'm not listening to you," he might say, but the moment you respond with, "I'll make you listen, Kíli," he's putty in your hands.

Bilbo: Biblo is a little ass. The first time he met you, he thought you were a perfect copy of Thorin. Both of you are beautiful, alluring yet domineering and controlling. He rolls his eyes at your bossy attitude. But over time, Bilbo starts to realize how utterly wrong he is. He sees you as protective, loving, and a material figure for the group. His initial distaste and sass fades, and he soon comes to see you as his rock. He needs that when all seems to go to hell during the journey. 

Gandalf: Gandalf trusts you completely. He knows that with you around, the group is in good hands, which is why he leaves so much in the movies. Your skills and wit speak for themselves. You're quick to take charge in high-intensity situations, yet your feminine side allows for more compassionate, loving care. Gandalf wouldn't have come to you for help on this important quest unless he trusted you to keep the dwarves in line.

[cthulhusstepmom]

Hobbits are attracted to soft things, Dwarves are attracted to opulence.

It was the talk of the Shire when the last Baggins ran off on an adventure, presumed dead of course, those adventures are nasty, deadly things; even more so when he popped up again, a rather large, rather wild looking fellow at his side. He'd not been home for long before talks of a wedding started circulating. And of course there's no talk for polite society quite like wedding talk. It was even more a surprise when, confronted about the rumors on one screechy morning by a Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, he quite gleefully announced that it wouldn't be to a Hobbit at all but to a dwarf of all people. The dwarf that had taken to following Mister Baggins everywhere, Dwalin they called him, had let loose a rather frightening, growly laugh at the shock on all their faces. Poor Miss Sackville-Baggins had to be carried down the hill after she fainted the poor dear. They were told to sit tight and be patient, that they would get their fill of ogling soon enough. In the meantime all of the Shire was alive with the joyous occasion of wedding preparation. Because if there is one thing that Hobbits love more than Mushrooms it is celebrating. And a wedding of any kind is as good of an excuse as any.

A quiet catching worry of having so many dwarves about does spread through many of the older, more respectable hobbits. They're just so very different is all, especially if they're anything like Mister Dwalin; who is a great help when it comes to lifting heavy things but is truly terrifying when he's had a bit much to drink as he's fond of heavy handed cuddles and the hobbits are a fragile folk that bruise quite easily.

So is it any wonder that mutters and murmurs chase up and down the hill when the wedding party arrives for one Mister Bilbo Baggins and the good folk of Hobbiton get a look at his groom?

At first glance he was a very comely fellow, round and jolly with a smile that could make up for the beard. And then he was introduced as one Master Bombur, one of the Groomsmen. The good hobbits of the Shire were quite quietly appalled when Mister Baggins introduced his Fiance to them. A Master Thorin Oakenshield Son of Thrain Son of Thror; a rugged dwarf with far too many angles and tangles and hard lines and edges, covered from head to toe in lean muscle that had a great many hobbits doubting Mister Baggins skills as a homemaker. He was grumpy whenever he was parted from his fiance and moody at the best of times. There was nothing soft about him, which it is common knowledge to be that which Hobbits prize most dearly in a partner. And, in the opinions of the Hobbiton high society, one of the singularly most unpleasant and unattractive individuals in the entirety of Middle Earth.

Though he did briefly salvage their good opinion when he thoroughly and succinctly put at least a temporary end to the screeching of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins by glowering at her so hard she was, for the first and probably the last time in her life, struck dumb.

As the wedding grew closer the murmurs grew more frantic, was Mister Baggins really intent to tie himself to this unpleasant dwarf? He was certainly eccentric but he's a kind fellow and the hobbits of Hobbiton surely did not wish to see him miserable. Such murmurs persisted until the time they were overheard by the rather overzealous nephews of the dwarf in question and were silenced with enthusiastic prejudice. So the Hobbits worried. Privately. And quietly. (No one was going to be the first to find out if the young dwarves really would skewer them like shish kabobs and leave them to dry in the sun.)

Until the day of the wedding.

Gathered in a discontented crowd the hobbits of the Shire watched on as the glowering dwarf stood watching for his husband to be, barely paying any heed to the officiant. (To be fair Old Took was paying him about the same amount of mind, distracted he was rattling off tales of Tooks past). And then, when Bilbo entered, something remarkable happened.

The Dwarf softened.

Icy steel eyes melted into warm springs, tense shoulders settled open and loose, clenched fists relaxed, subconsciously reaching forward just the slightest bit.

That day, that dwarf was the softest of any seen before or seen since to this very day. And every single Hobbit in the Shire was jealous of one Bilbo Baggins and his beautiful soft dwarf.

[harrypoppinss]

How the Dwarfs show PDA

Thorins company x gn!reader

Warnings: an insane amount of fluff, implied smut

Thorin

Being the King of Erebor meant that he had a lot of responsibility on his plate. Even before the Dwarfs defeated Smaug and reclaimed Erebor, he wasn’t overly affectionate publicly; that didn’t change once he re-built his kingdom. Kissing is a no go, but instead he would just always have you hold onto his arm as you walked, or vise versa. But when you’re alone in your shared chambers, its like he can’t get enough of you. Thats when he always makes up for the lack of attention and affection that he can’t openly show like he wants to, but if he sees someone flirting with you then thats thrown out of the window; literally. He will pull you up onto his throne and make-out with you infront of everyone if he wants to… and he has… many times. But most of the time; not very into PDA.

Fíli

Like his Uncle, he has a lot of responsibilities since he’s the heir to the throne. But he doesn’t let that stop him. Once he’s done with his daily duties as the prince of Erebor, he gives you his undivided attention and affection. He always makes sure you’re able to stretch your legs, so he usually like to take late night walks through the mines as you two attempt to not be seen by the guards. One time though you did get caught doing… something. But that’s a story for another day and time. Sometimes he will literally just slip away from the meetings to go and be with you but only if Kíli is there to cover for him. He doesn’t have a problem with showing you how much he adores and loves you, even if that means getting his head chewed off by Thorin for skipping his royal duties.

Kíli

This man is literally the definition of PDA. He doesn’t have as many duties as his brother so he gets to spend his free time with you. He doesn’t care who watches you two as you walk through the halls of Erebor with his arm tucked tight around your shoulders; paired with a proud grin on his face that reads “yeah thats right they’re mine”. He doesn’t care if his Uncle scolds him for it, you’re his one. He tends to pepper kisses all over your face at random times, which inturn makes you incredibly flustered, sometimes his own brother has to pry him off of you. He’s just a lovey-dovey type of boyfriend and he is not afraid to show it to the whole Kingdom of Erebor.

Dwalin

Not a fan of PDA at all. However, if he sense that you’re having an off day, or if he sees someone openly flirting with you…. well then it’s like he’s a whole new person. He’ll pull you into his chest as he rubs circles on your back, giving the person that was attempting to flirt with you a death glare and grinning when he watches them basically shit their pants and scramble away. If its the scenario where you’re having an off day he will find someone to cover for him most of the time with a threat before taking you back to your shared house as he gives you his undivided attention and affection. All in all; this man can quickly become the worlds biggest simp for you.

Bofur

Like Kíli, he’s the definition of PDA. As soon as he gets home from work he’s all over you; literally. He will physically jump on top of you if you’re ignoring him, especially after a long day in the mines. Which usually leads to you forcing him to get up off of you so you can fix him a bath. Even when you’re doing that, his hands are wrapped around your waist as his chin rests on top of your head. In public it doesn’t change, his fingers are laced with yours and he’s constantly finding an excuse to kiss you. You have something on your lips? Kiss. You turn to look at him? Kiss. He wants your attention? Multiple kisses. He just adores showing you how much he loves and cherishes you, even during the journey to reclaim Erebor.

————————————————————

A/N:

Where to request a prompt for a character from LOTR/The Hobbit, Supernatural, The walking dead, FNAF? Here!

The masterlist? Here!

The prompt list? Here!

[specialagentlokitty]

Thorin x reader - same secrets

thorin with reader who has been hiding an injury from him and he notices reader's lack of sleep and when he goes to confront reader he realises that reader has been injured - Anon💜

You were nearly running out of supplies to keep your wound cleaned and healing and you didn’t know what else to do.

You couldn’t do anything, you couldn’t ask anyone for help, no one could know.

Especially not Thorin.

Sitting against the cool stone of the cave, you sighed to yourself as you stared out the entrance, admiring the moon and what stars that you could see.

Everyone else was asleep, aside from Thorin, who was on watch that night, but he was on the other side of the cave.

When he looked over you pretended that you were sleeping and after a few minutes you peaked an eye open to see if he had brought it.

He wasn’t there so you assumed he had, but when you opened your eyes you found him walking over towards you, creeping over everyone else until he was in front of you and he sat down.

“My dear, why are you awake?” He asked quietly.

“Just couldn’t sleep.” You smiled softly.

Thorin frowned.

He looked at you and he could see how tired you were, the dark circles under your eyes, how you would try hide your yawns when you thought people were looking.

When you thought he was sleeping next to you he would notice how you would shuffle away from him and go sit on your own.

“Please you haven’t slept for a long time now, what is bothering you?”

Thorin looked at you, holding his hands out he waited for you to place yours in his.

When you did he noticed that your skin was slightly cool to the touch, and even in the dim light of the fire you looked slightly pale.

“What’s really going on?” He asked softly.

You shook your head and smiled him a little again, taking his hands in yours you brought them up and kissed the backs of his hands.

“Nothing my love.”

“Then will you sleep? I will stay right by your side.”

You nodded your head and held in your groan in as you shuffled down.

Thorin sat next to you, resting his back against the cave wall as he let you rest your head in his lap.

He ran his fingers through your hair, smiling down at you as you looked at him, taking his free hand, holding it against your chest.

“Sleep dear…” he whispered.

It didn’t take long for you to drift to sleep, he felt your hand relax against his but still holding it, your breath evening out.

He kept a close eye out for anything that could pose a threat, but he also kept a close eye on you.

Putting small braids in your hair, but when you started to move he stopped and raised his hands.

You moved a little more before you stopped, blanket falling down and Thorin laughed a little, reaching down he went to grab your blanket but he stopped.

Your shirt had rose slightly, and as much as he wanted to look away something made him stop.

He reached over and gently pulled your shirt up a little more, showing a bloodied bandage and he gasped softly.

“My dear… why didn’t you say anything…?”

Thorin wanted to wake you up and ask but you were finally sleeping so he decided against it.

Instead he grabbed his bag and pulled his own medical supplies out and changed your dressing slowly and gently trying his best not to wake you.

Once he was done he put everything away and pulled your shirt down, covering your back up.

It must have been an hour later when Dwalin woke up and nodded his head.

“Get some rest.”

“Thank you friend.”

Thorin grabbed his blanket and tossed it half over you, half over himself and laid down, using his bag as a pillow.

He wrapped his arm around your waist and buried his nose in your neck, closing his eyes as he breathed in your scent before falling asleep.

You woke up to Thorin holding you tightly against him, and you smiled as you laid there, head on his chest.

You never told Thorin you were injured, and he never told you that when you were sleeping he would tend to your wound until it was fully healed.

You were finally sleeping right, and every morning you woke up in his arms and that was enough for the both of you

[rynneer]

Misty Memories Cold

When you wake in Fíli’s bed with no recollection of anything after an accident in Mirkwood, he’s ready to risk anything, even his uncle’s wrath, to bring back what you had together.

<< Beginning | < Previous | Next >

Chapter Five

“I’m not sure I like this idea,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest against the hallway’s chill. The light from mid-morning sunbeams slowly fades to the flickering orange light of torches as you get closer to the core of the mountain.

“The worst he can do is say no,” Tauriel replies coolly. For someone so out of place in the realm of dwarves, she walks with extraordinary confidence, towering over everyone—especially you.

Fíli and Kíli exchange skeptical looks, but remain silent.

You, however, do not. “You don’t know Thorin.”

“That is true,” she hums, “but I know kings.” Tauriel hardly pauses as you approach the large, double doors leading to the war room.

Kíli shoots out an arm to block her from entering. “Us first,” he insists. “He won’t exactly be thrilled to see you.”

The hinges creak in protest as he swings open the heavy door, interrupting Thorin mid-sentence. The king sits at the head of a long table, flanked by two empty seats, normally occupied by his heirs. The rest of the chairs are filled by Balin, Dwalin, and a handful of elves. The guests’ eyes narrow curiously, but when you step into the room, they duck their heads to whisper amongst themselves. Fíli puts an arm around your waist, standing as tall as he can and glowering at them.

“Kíli, you are late,” Thorin scolds. “Fíli, Y/N, I believe I made it clear that you have… other duties today.” He pointedly ignores Tauriel.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Your Highness,” Tauriel says smoothly, her voice all business. “May we speak in private? It is an urgent matter.”

Thorin continues to pretend she’s not there, clearing his throat and gesturing for Kíli to sit. “As I was saying–”

But she will not be ignored. “It is of particular importance to your princess,” she presses.

All heads in the room turn to you. Fíli winces and tightens his arm around you. Even Thorin appears momentarily stunned by her interruption, but he quickly regains his composure and fixes the elf with a glare.

“You are excused,” he hisses. “We–”

“Your Highness–” she tries to interject again.

“Do not interrupt me!” the king snaps. He rises from his seat, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You are an escort, nothing more. You are not welcome at the negotiating table.”

“Thorin, please,” you say softly. You press against Fíli, making yourself as small and vulnerable-looking as possible. The act works—Thorin softens just the tiniest bit.

His nostrils flare as he breathes heavily, glancing back at the elvish delegates. They eye the king with suspicion. “Everyone out,” he says at last. His teeth are clenched so hard you’re surprised they don’t crumble.

“There is tea waiting in the great hall,” Balin offers, a bit more diplomatically. He ushers the delegation from the room and gives you a tiny nod as he passes.

“Sit,” Thorin growls.

You drop into a chair instantly at his command, already wary of his anger. Fíli takes his seat and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze under the table. But you grip it tightly, not letting him pull away. He resists for a second, then lets his hand relax in yours and brushes his thumb over the back of it.

“What do you want?”

You jump slightly when Thorin addresses you.

“We have a proposal–”

“I did not ask you,” Thorin cuts Tauriel off brusquely, still looking at you.

It’s quiet for a moment as you open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say. “Tauriel has a plan,” you finally offer.

“Hear her out, please,” Kíli jumps in. His leg bounces beneath the table, making ripples on the surfaces of abandoned glasses of wine. “She thinks she knows how to cure Y/N.”

His phrasing makes you wince, and Fíli squeezes your hand again.

“Nonsense,” Thorin scoffs. “There’s nothing wrong with her. Nothing that you should know about,” he adds when Tauriel arches an eyebrow. “Unless someone has been speaking of things they should not.”

Everyone turns to Kíli, who suddenly looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. He gives you a helpless shrug, hands raised in surrender.

“Thorin, please,” Fíli urges quietly. “This is Y/N that we are talking about. Our Y/N.”

A vein throbs in Thorin’s temple, but he looks at Tauriel for the first time since she entered. “Get on with it, then.”

She dips her head. “Whatever ails her is not a physical problem, it’s magic borne of Mirkwood. That’s something dwarves simply cannot address.” Thorin bristles, but she raises a hand before he can speak. “I’ve no doubt that you have skilled healers, but she needs more than herbs and rest. Let her return to Mirkwood with me, and we will do everything we can to restore her memory.”

Hope rises in your chest as Thorin studies the elf maiden. “Why are you offering this? What do you stand to gain from helping?” His tone is laced with suspicion, but less anger than before.

“I’ve a certain… admiration for the for kingdom of Erebor after all it has endured.” Her eyes flicker briefly to Kíli, who absentmindedly fiddles with his belt. “I would be glad to see its princess well once again.”

“Can you swear that your efforts will be successful? That she will return whole and unharmed with her memories intact?”

But that hope dies as Tauriel hesitates. “I cannot,” she admits at last.

“No.” Thorin rises from the table, taking his mantle from the back of his chair and heading for the door.

“No?!” you repeat incredulously. You’re on your feet before you even know it, hands curled into fists at your side. Fíli moves to grab your wrist, but you dodge his hand. “This is our best chance to–”

“No!” He turns on his heel to face you again. There’s a shadow across his face, brows knitted in a furious glare. “It is too much to risk without a guarantee of success. That is final.”

“Fine!” you snap, crossing your arms. Your headache pulses even harder behind your eyes. “I’ll go anyway!”

“Careful, Y/N…” Kíli whispers. He’s risen as well, knuckles white as they grip the back of his chair.

“Then you can stay there,” Thorin thunders. His stormy eyes move to his nephews. “And if either of you set foot outside our lands, you can keep going all the way back to Ered Luin. Now, get out.”

“Uncle–”

“Out, Fíli! All of you!”

You snort, glaring at Thorin and pulling Fíli up from the table by his wrist. “Come on,” you grumble. “I’m not going to keep arguing with a stone wall.” You storm from the room, dragging Fíli with you and doing your best to slam the oversized door—right in poor Kíli’s face. He pushes it open behind you, nearly stumbling as Tauriel breezes past him.

“Pack your things for a journey,” she says briskly, her long strides quickly putting distance between you and the angry king. “All of you. We leave at midnight.”

“Are you out of your mind?!” Fíli hisses. “You heard Thorin—he’ll have our heads!”

“If he even lets us back in,” Kíli mutters.

“Thorin can… what is that phrase you use, Y/N?”

“‘Get fucked?’” you offer.

“Yes, that.”

“This is a bad idea,” Fíli reminds the group for the hundredth time. But even as he voices his concerns, he still busies himself with tacking up the ponies and arranging the bags. “If Thorin or Amad catch us, we’re as good as dead.”

“With how loud you’re talking, they can probably hear you from their chambers.” You shift from one foot to the other, shivering. August in the mountains means pleasantly warm days, but the northern cold refuses to be forgotten, bringing frigid nights. Without missing a beat, Fíli sheds his coat and drapes it over your shoulders. You give him a quick smile.

A warm, fuzzy snout nudges your shoulder. You turn to find a black and white pony stretching its neck over the door of its stall, sniffing your pack hopefully. It nickers softly when you lift your hand to stroke its nose.

“That one’s yours,” Kíli says, leaning against the stable’s door. Tauriel and his pony already wait outside, the animal pawing impatiently at the ground. “You named him Domino, and refused to tell us what that means.”

“Domino?” You smile as you fit the bridle on him. “Perfect.” He follows you outside obediently, still nudging your bag in hopes of finding treats. Fíli comes to your rescue once again with a handful of sugar cubes swiped from the kitchen. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Trying to steal my pony’s heart?”

“Aye.” Fíli winks and swings himself up onto his mount. “And I’m coming for yours next.” But his face turns serious as he glances up at the moon, full over your heads. Wisps of clouds tickle its edges, threatening to block out its light. “We should go. If we make good pace, it shouldn’t be more than a few weeks’ travel.”

You sigh and climb up on your own pony. Next to Tauriel’s horse, you’re reminded once again how small you are. Inside the mountain, it’s easier to ignore. Everything is dwarf-sized. You-sized. But outside, the world does not cater to your diminished stature.

“A few weeks’ travel to where?” A voice from behind startles you from your thoughts. Fíli freezes next to you.

You turn around slowly, feeling like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. Dís folds her arms and taps her foot as she waits for an answer. There’s something tucked under her arm, but you can’t quite make it out.

“Nowhere,” Kíli responds quickly. “Nowhere at all.” He gives his mother the most innocent look he can muster, but it’s pointless. Every pony is laden with at least one travel pack.

Fíli purses his lips tightly. “We’re going to get help for Y/N,” he admits through gritted teeth. He raises his chin defiantly, as if expecting resistance. “Thorin won’t listen. We’re taking matters into our own hands.”

Dís shakes her head in disappointment. Your heart sinks as she steps forward and tugs Fíli’s coat down from your shoulders. The journey, over before it even began.

“Not dressed like that, you’re not.” She returns the coat to Fíli and unfolds the bundle under her arm. It unfurls into a thick, forest green cloak. “I was saving this for an anniversary gift, but you’ll be needing it if you don’t want to freeze at night,” she explains as she hands it to you. She squeezes your hand. “Come back safe. I’ll stall Thorin as best I can.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, wrapping the cloak around you.

“Fíli is right, we must be off,” Tauriel snaps her reins and sets off down the packed earth road. The boys fall in behind her.

“And Kíli?” Dís calls after them.

He halts his pony with a tug of the reins and turns in his saddle with a sigh. “Yes, Amad?”

“Hurry up and propose to the elf.” She slaps the haunches of your pony, sending you lurching forward into the night.

Fíli did not like it.

He couldn’t tell if it was day or night. He couldn’t see the path ahead—if there even was one. He couldn’t hear whatever Thorin was saying.

But mostly, he didn’t like how you hung limply in his arms, head lolling with each step he took. He hefted you closer to his chest, shifting you to better support your head in the crook of his arm. “You’ll be alright,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.” There was no response from the woman in his arms. It was almost upsetting, how light you felt. How small you were. You were dwarf-sized, yes, but the proportions were all wrong.

Fíli glanced up to make sure he was still with the Company. Since they’d left the main path, it was becoming harder to keep up. He’d nearly lost them a few… minutes ago? Hours? Days?

After Fíli had caught up—or let them catch up to him, he couldn’t tell—Kíli started to hold onto Fíli’s coat to stay together, like he’d once done as a child. Slowly, they fell to the back of the group.

“Let me carry her for a bit.” Kíli slipped an arm underneath you.

As the younger prince made to take you from Fíli, his blood ran hot. He only held you tighter, pulling away from Kíli. “No,” he growled. “I’m carrying her.”

“Fee, you’ll tire.”

“I won’t!” he snapped. “I have to be there when she wakes up. It has to be me! I…” His sudden burst of ferocity faded away as he looked down at you, leaving behind a hollow feeling in his chest.

If he didn’t know any better, he would think you were dead. Only the slow rise and fall of your chest proved you still lived. In rare moments, your face would twitch, ever so slightly. Holding you like this, your body as limp as a ragdoll, made his stomach feel as if it was filled with stones.

Cold talons of dread gripped his heart. “She will wake up,” Fíli whispered, his soft voice trembling. He looked back up at Kíli for reassurance. “She will. She has to. And I need to be there, it has to be me. I have to tell her… She needs to know…” A lump in his throat kept Fíli from continuing.

Kíli furrowed his brow. He’d never seen his brother look this distressed. As his eyes went back and forth from your face to Fíli’s, it dawned on him. His eyes grew wide. “You’re… Fíli… You’ve fallen in love with her, haven’t you?”

Fíli’s mouth moved silently, as if the words were stuck in his throat. But he didn’t need to answer. His face told Kíli everything he needed to know. The desperation. How his expression softened when he gazed at you. The way he gently cradled you.

“Is she your…?” Kíli didn’t need to finish; the word hung heavily in the air between the brothers. His One.

Amad had explained once how it felt to find her One in their father. She had courted a few other dwarrows, but something always gnawed at the back of her mind. But meeting him, she spoke of a warmth that filled her, how everything just felt right. Fíli had never given it much thought. None of the dams in Ered Luin particularly caught his eye. And besides, Thorin never took a wife. Sometimes a dwarf just doesn’t find their One, or care much about finding them.

But you… Fíli hadn’t felt the instant warmth and security his mother had described when he met you. It crept in slowly as you ate together, rode together, fought together. When you sent him little smiles from across the fire at dinner. When you listened intently as he showed you his blades. When you gripped his arm tightly at the first sign of danger. There was no going back for Fíli, and even though your new size worried him, the way you fit in his arms felt right. It shouldn’t feel right, he knew that. He had never heard of a dwarf finding their One in someone of an entirely different race. And of course, you were even stranger, coming from another world.

“Fee?” Kíli’s voice, unusually gentle, pulled Fíli from his thoughts.

With great effort, Fíli tore his gaze from you and looked his brother in the eye. “I don’t know what else this feeling could be,” he answered simply.

Both princes fell silent as they watched your sleeping face. “This will not be easy,” Kíli said at last.

“I know.”

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

Today on Hobbit-Headcanons:

What would the company of Thorin Oakenshield enjoy about the Modern World?

One of my WIP transports the company to our world shortly before they're supposed to reach Rivendell, and into the apartment of my OFC.

So here is a list of things I think each character would enjoy about the Modern World:

Thorin: Google Maps, Siri (will totally argue with her like she's real), Shows like The Crown, Game of Thrones, but also Bridgerton, Democracy (yes you read that correctly), Rock music

Fili: Birth Control (can finally fuck around without risking the royal lineage), Superhero Movies (has an huuuhe crush on Black Widow), Tinder, Martial Arts, Feminism, Henley shirts to show of his muscles, bars & clubs

Kili : TikTok (LOVES cat videos, Top Content Creator about Archery, 'deep thoughts'/rambling, 'prank my uncle/brother with me', does EVERY challenge, accidental thirsttraps & flustered by the comments), Parkour, Man Buns & (Hipster-) Fashion, LGBTQ+ - Community , karaoke bars, team sports, the zoo

Bofur: modern music (especially pop songs with dirty lyrics), Tumblr (is no. 1 shit-poster), music festivals, arts&crafts blogs, Christopher's Streets Day

Bifur: Google Translate, Modern Medicine, Pain Medication, ASL, RomComs (trust me), helps out in an animal shelter, country music

Bombur: Cooking Shows (has his own Online Show), Kindergarten (he had so many children, the reprieve would be SO appreciated), international foodstuff to try

Dwalin: Guns, MMF, store-bought cookies, sport shows (AGRESSIVE fan for whatever team he randomly picks), Barbecues

Balin: Twitter (the political possibilities!!!), mental healthcare (he's sending the whole line of Durin he had no time for their shit), Spa Days, public schools, classical music

Oin: Modern Medicine (Duh), hearing aids, physiotherapy

Gloin: bitcoins, the stock market, Facebook (posts daily about Gimli)

Dori: hair tutorials, fashion shows, tracking devices (has totally microchipped a drunk Nori at some point)

Nori: hacking, movies with the lovable rogue as the MC (Pirates of the Carribbean, Deadpool etc.), spy movies (duh), the mafia (yes, he becomes a boss within weeks)

Ori: Wikipedia, public libraries, tutorials for EVERYTHING (knitting, cutting your own hair, how to talk to royalty, fancy war cries, you name it), fantasy novels, public schools

Bilbo: Food blogs, the "ignore call"-button, Instagram, university (will mayor in at least three subjects), museums

Gandalf: the Internet as a whole, email/ instant messaging, yard sales, modern weed, museums (has a knack for finding cursed items), adventure movies (after watching Indiana Jones he seriously debated obtaining a whip)

[cottoncandiescupcakes]

I actually LIKE how Elrond and Celebrimbor have short hair in Rings of Power because it seems like long, fancy, braided, decorated hair wouldn't suit their personalities, especially Elrond who is this intelligent, kind of serious elf with a witty/amusing side to him and I don't think he'd be in any way vain or care much about his appearance, same with Celebrimbor who is so occupied with his crafts. Also you need to remember Elrond is half elf half man as well.

Also it's unlikely an entire race of beings has the exact same hair. I really liked how Peter did the different dwarf hairdo in the Hobbit, like how someone like Bofur has silly pigtails but then like, Dwalin has the shaved head with tattoos or Ori has the little nerdy bowlcut. I feel this is that version for elves.