#fili comfort

[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.

[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.

Chapter One

Cold.

You’re cold. It’s dark. You’re falling. Someone reaches for you. Too late.

The water folds in around you. It floods your nose. It floods your ears. Your limbs don’t work. You can’t swim.

Muffled shouts. You open your mouth to cry back. It fills with water.

Choking.

Drowning.

Drowning.

Drowning drowning drowning dr–

You wake with a jolt, sitting up in bed.

Bed?

You pat the sheets around you. Yes, you’re definitely in a bed, not curled up on the leaf litter in Mirkwood.

“I guess it really was a dream,” you whisper, shoulders slumping. But as you run your fingers across the hem of the blanket, you frown. It doesn’t feel like the old quilt on your bed. It’s thicker, softer.

Something is wrong.

You look around the room as your eyes begin to adjust. There’s a fireplace across the room, the dying embers casting just enough light to let you make out the vague shapes of furniture in the darkness. The walls and floor are stone, adorned with plush rugs. The wind rattles the shutters outside the window, hidden behind thick curtains.

This is not your bedroom… and you are not alone. A dark figure stirs next to you beneath the covers. You scramble out of bed but find the floor farther away than expected. You land hard on your side. “Ow!”

You slap your hand over your mouth, but it’s too late. The figure sits up with a groan, rubbing at its face and leaning to peer over the edge of the bed at you. There’s no mistaking that mustache, those braids.

“Fíli? What… where are we?” And why are we in bed together?

Fíli blinks a few times to clear the sleep from his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asks hoarsely, his voice rough. He rolls out of bed and kneels in front of you. “We’re home. In Erebor? You know, the mountain? Big pile of rocks and snow? It’s rather hard to miss.” He raises an eyebrow, trying to coax a smile from you.

Instead, you scoot backwards, putting space between you and the prince as you process his words. “But we were just in Mirkwood,” you protest. “How did we get here?”

Fíli’s confusion turns to concern. “Y/N, that was a year ago.” He shifts closer and brushes a thumb over your cheek. “Are you feeling alright?”

You stiffen against his touch, heart in your throat. Ever the gentleman, he’s never touched you without permission before. But something about the way his palm cups your face feels familiar. “I don’t know,” you whisper, shaking your head. “All I remember is falling into the stream.”

“You don’t remember the elves? Fighting for the mountain? All the time we spent together?” He uncovers a long braid in your hair. “Our wedding?”

“Wedding?!” It’s true, you’ve harbored feelings for Fíli since the two of you met in Bag End. You’d admired him in the book and movies, and to see him for real… it did something to you. But you never thought he would return your affections—how could he? You’re a plain, young woman from another world, and he’s a handsome prince, heir to the throne.

Fíli searches your face, expression unreadable. Finally, he stands, offering you his hand. “Come on.”

You take it hesitantly. His fingers lace through yours, and he helps you to your feet. Strangely, you find that instead of being taller than the dwarf, you’re just level with his chin. But before you can comment on this, Fíli pulls you out the door and down a narrow hallway.

He leads you to a large sitting room, taking you to the sofa next to yet another fireplace. “Wait here,” he orders softly. “I’ll fetch Thorin.”

“Thorin’s alive?” you breathe. “What about Kíli?”

“Kíli would like to know what the pair of you are doing up and chattering in the middle of the night,” replies a voice from behind you. The youngest Durin leans against the wall with his arms crossed, hair still tousled from sleep.

You tip back your head and close your eyes. “They did it,” you sigh in relief. “Oh, thank God, they did it.”

Kíli raises an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Fíli pinches the bridge of his nose. “Let me get Thorin first. I would rather not explain this twice.”

 

“Again.” Thorin paces in front of the fire.

You rub your forehead. “I told you, that’s it,” you groan. “I fell in the water and woke up here.”

Kíli shakes his head. “It makes no sense.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Thorin flashes you a warning look.

“It was no ordinary stream,” Fíli points out. He sits with you on the couch, his hand resting on top of yours. Every once in a while, he gives it a reassuring squeeze. “It had some sort of foul magic. She wouldn’t wake for days.”

“If it’s magic that we’re dealing with,” you glance at Thorin warily before continuing, “it might be a good idea to talk with the elves.”

“Absolutely not,” Thorin snaps. His lip curls in disgust. “I refuse to invite them to interfere in our private matters.”

Kíli’s eyes brighten. “What about Gandalf, then? Where would we find him?”

They all look to you. You close your eyes, teasing and tugging at the cobwebs that cloud the part of your mind where your Middle Earth knowledge is stored. “He’s… there’s no guarantee we even could find him. Gandalf doesn’t have a home, exactly. He wanders. They don’t call him the Grey Pilgrim for nothing.”

“So we don’t know where Gandalf is,” Fíli starts slowly, “but we do know where the elves are.”

“And Gandalf wasn’t in Mirkwood with us,” you add. “There’s no guarantee he even knows about the enchanted stream—but Thranduil definitely would.”

Thorin crosses his arms. “Out of the question.”

“Did you not make peace with Mirkwood?”

“Peace does not mean friendship,” Thorin retorts. His voice, raised in frustration, echoes off of the polished stone walls. Down another hallway, you hear a door slam. Thorin groans at the sound of approaching footsteps.

“And just what in Mahal’s name is everyone shouting about at this hour of night?”

A new dwarf steps into the firelight. In the dim light, she almost looks like a copy of Thorin. But as she approaches, you can see her features are softer, her eyes rounder, her beard thinner. And there’s no mistaking the Durin glare that she levels at Thorin, her blue eyes just as piercing as they are tired.

You glance at Fíli with uncertainty. He squeezes your hand and leans close to murmur in your ear. “It’s just Amad. Mother,” he translates when you don’t seem to understand.

Dís. You nod quickly.

Thorin looks at you, then back to his sister, standing with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised expectantly. As they exchange words in their rough native tongue, Dís’s expression of irritation turns to one of soft, motherly concern. She comes closer to you and gently brushes away a few strands of unruly hair from your face. “You must be tired, natha.”

“Daughter,” Fíli whispers.

“A bit,” you reply quietly, finding yourself suddenly shy with the full attention of a mother focused on you.

“Poor dove,” Dís tuts. She straightens up and pats you on the shoulder. “Fíli, take your lass back to bed. We will speak in the morning.” Thorin looks like he means to protest, but Dís silences him with an icy glare. Planting a kiss on the top of your head, she pushes Kíli and Thorin back down their opposite hallways. Fíli pats your hand and follows her quickly, his words in Khuzdûl fading as he gets further away.

Finally alone, you let out a long sigh. For the first time, you get the chance to look yourself over, to see what has changed. Your hair is longer, brushing the small of your back. When you run your fingers through it, you find braids styled to match Fíli’s. A dwarven marriage custom, perhaps? There’s a thin, gold band on your finger, too, lined with tiny sapphires that sparkle in the firelight. A little smile tugs at the corner of your mouth; at least you kept some piece of your own marriage customs.

And while Fíli has been bare-chested this whole time, you’re wearing a dark green shirt, no doubt one that used to be his. It’s long enough on you to serve as a nightgown. A blush rises on your face when you realize the deep v-neck exposes the dip between your breasts—and has been exposing it to everyone else this whole time.

“Amrâlimê?” Fíli’s voice from the hallway is soft. He pokes his head into the sitting room. “Aren’t you going to come to bed?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip, suddenly very interested in the fireplace. In anything that isn’t Fíli’s too-kind face. “Do you want me to?” you ask hesitantly.

It’s silent for a few seconds. Fíli sighs heavily and comes to kneel before you, taking your hands in his. “Y/N, you are my wife. Of course I want you to come to bed. It is our bed.” His eyes search yours, desperately looking for the light he knows should be there. “Do I not have your love?”

“I mean, sure,” you reply softly. Your voice is strained. “I just… I don’t understand how I have yours. You’re the crown prince, you’re perfect. And I’m just… me.”

“You are so much more than that,” Fíli murmurs. “You are everything to me.” He kisses your forehead and stands. Before you can say anything, you’re swept up in his arms. Startled, you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to avoid falling, but he carries your smaller frame with ease.

You frown, remembering your observation from earlier. “Shouldn’t I be taller than you?”

“Ah. Well.” Fili’s chuckle makes his chest vibrate against your cheek. “That’s all that we thought the stream did. Make you properly sized.”

“Properly sized?” you repeat in disbelief. “You call this properly sized?”

“You complained about it endlessly,” Fíli continues. A playful smile tugs at his lips. “Until you realized how well you fit in my arms.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re very funny.”

“I’m also handsome, charming, brave…”

“Shut up.” You smack his shoulder lightly, but hide a smile as you tuck your head beneath his chin. Maybe you can get used to this.

But as he kicks open the door to his—your—room, and you see the bed with its rumpled covers, you tense.

“Y/N?” Fíli’s breath tickles your neck.

“It’s… just a lot, all at once,” you mumble.

He squeezes you, then lowers you gently to the bed. “I understand,” he murmurs.

“You really don’t, though.” Pent-up frustration simmers within you. “When’s the last time you fell into a stream, woke up, and found out a year had passed and you’re married?”

“Are you upset that we’re married?” Fíli asks, his face falling.

You feel a pang of guilt for snapping at him. This can’t be any easier for him. Running your hand through your tangled hair, you shake your head. “It feels like one moment, I was a girl with a crush, and then I wake up, and suddenly I’m a married woman. I’ve missed out on everything.”

“It’s in there, somewhere,” he whispers, stroking your cheek. You flinch away, your body unsure of how to react to his touch. Hurt flickers across his face, but he pulls back. “Can I fix your braids?” he asks. There’s desperation in his eyes.

Recognizing his need to touch you in whatever way he can, you nod slowly, and turn. The gentle, rhythmic tugging as he combs and re-braids your hair is hypnotic, and you find your eyelids drooping.

“There,” Fíli says, turning you back to him. He smiles sadly. “Beautiful as ever.”

Your heart aches. Whether it aches for him, the dwarf searching for his loving wife in the uncertain girl before him, or yourself, longing to be that loving wife, you do not know.

After a moment of hesitation, you lean in and reward him with a quick kiss on the cheek. His beard is prickly against your lips. “I’m tired,” you whisper when you draw back.

The kiss brings a real smile to his face, however small it may be. Fíli pulls back the covers and you wriggle underneath them. You settle into a dip worn down into the mattress from hundreds of nights before. Fíli slides into place behind you, his chest against your back. You stiffen slightly, but force yourself to relax.

“Is this alright?” His deep, quiet voice vibrates through your body.

You nod. He can have a little cuddle, as a treat. As an apology.

He takes that as a signal to test the limits further. You can tell he’s holding his breath as he drapes his arm over your waist. “Is this alright?”

“It’s cozy,” you mumble sleepily, letting the warmth of his body overwhelm you.

Fíli lets out his breath, pulling you tightly against him and nuzzling his face into your hair.

As you drift off, you do your best to pretend you don’t notice his quiet tears.

You began to stir, finding your face pressed into something warm and firm. As you tried to pull away to look around, you were met with resistance. You made a disgruntled noise.

“Y/N?!” Suddenly, a hand yanked your head backwards. Wide eyes searched your face frantically. You just barely registered who held you before he pulled you back in a crushing embrace. “I thought we’d lost you.”

“Fíli?” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his coat. “Can’t breathe.”

He released you, finally letting you get your bearings. The two of you were alone in a small, stone cell. Torchlight flickered just outside the wrought iron bars, casting a dim, orange light into your cell.

A shadow crossed over the door. “Oh, so she is alive. Here, then.” An apple landed on the ground in front of you, followed by a waterskin. “That’s the most you get until tomorrow. Make it last.” The shadow retreated, footsteps echoing down a long hallway.

Pieces began to slot into place in your mind. You nodded slowly. Mirkwood, elves, imprisonment. “How long have we been in here?”

“A few days at most, given how often they’ve brought food and water. But it’s hard to tell.” Fíli seemed distracted, eyes scanning your body. “How do you feel?”

You frowned and patted yourself up and down. “A bit sore, but I think I’m fine.” You untangled yourself from Fíli and tried to stand on shaky legs, your knees instantly failing beneath you.

Immediately, he jumped up and grabbed your waist from behind to steady you. “Y/N?” His voice was soft. “Y/N, please do not be alarmed when you turn around.”

“What?” You twisted in his grasp and looked up into his concerned face.

Up. You had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. He was big. You tried to back away but the space was so narrow, you collided with the wall after just a single step. “You’re taller,” you stated, almost robotically. “But you’re a dwarf. You can’t be taller than me. I’m supposed to be the taller one. How did you get taller?”

“I did not get taller,” he corrected you. “You got smaller.”

You just stared at him blankly. Fíli sighed, gently taking hold of your arm and easing you back to the ground. He took the apple from the floor and placed it in your hand. “Eat,” he ordered quietly. “You haven’t had any food in days. It was hard enough to get water into you.”

Instead, you rolled it between your palms absentmindedly. “How long was I out?”

“Just over a week. We were trying to cross a stream, and you fell in.”

“Instead of Bombur,” you interjected.

Fíli raised an eyebrow. “If you say so. Glóin managed to snag you,” he continues, “and when he pulled you out, you were… well, smaller. But you wouldn’t wake up. You even slept through the spiders. I was so afraid that you were gone before I could tell you–” he broke off, his voice thick. He tore his eyes away from yours, a blush rising on his face.

“What?” You reached out and took hold of his chin, turning his face back to you. Yet his eyes still avoided you. You crawled closer, kneeling between his outstretched legs. Your traitorous heart pounded hopefully against your ribs. “Tell me what, Fee?”

He shook his head. “No, no, it’s foolish. I shouldn’t… you wouldn’t…” Finally, he looked back up at you. “I love you?” He phrased it as a question, his blue eyes filled with hesitation. It was strangely endearing, seeing the normally confident prince so bashful. Fíli lifted a cautious hand to your cheek, fingers just barely brushing your skin.

Surprise temporarily robbed you of your voice. Mistaking your silence for rejection, Fíli quickly pulled his hand away. Shame and hurt flashed across his face. “Forgive me,” he blurted out, ducking his head. “I should not burden you with feelings you can never return.” He pulled his legs back in and moved further into the shadowy recesses of the cell.

But you crawled after him, refusing to let him go that easily. “Fíli, why didn’t you say anything?” When he remained silent, you wound your fingers up in one of his braids and tugged, forcing him to turn his head towards you. “Why are you so sure that I can’t feel the same?”

A cautious spark of hope flared to life in his eyes. “Because you’re perfect, you’re beautiful,” he murmured. “You deserve so much more than I can give.”

You smiled, eyes tracing his face. The gold locks that framed it, the sky blue eyes, the flushed cheeks. And those soft, pink lips, parted ever so slightly as he awaited your next words.

But words were the furthest thing from your mind. Refusing to hold back any longer, you grabbed Fíli by the collar, lunging forward to claim his mouth.

His eyes widened, then fluttered shut as his hands grabbed at your waist. Fíli pulled you back into his lap and wrapped his arms around you, reaching up to comb through your tangled hair with his fingers.

A rock clanged against the bars of your cell. “Get a room!” came Kíli’s voice, echoing down the hall.

You broke away with a laugh. “This is a room!”

Kíli’s only response was a disgusted groan as Fíli grabbed at your face for more.

[tending-the-hearth]

guess who is getting fucking hurled back into her 2012 fandom obsessions on a completely unrelated note i'm in love with him

[meadowsofmay]

today my emoticonal coping mechanism stumbled me upon thinking about middle earth's father figures, found fathers and real fathers. me, who have always wanted my father back to my family which was not possible due to my parents splitting and who could only see him at weekends because of work and school, is thinking about elrond and thranduil and bard and thorin and theoden and even aragorn and boromir who clearly became father/uncle figures for hobbits. i am thinking about them.

about elrond who went through so much and yet, he raised elladan and elrohir into great and proud, stong elves, who cared for estel even though he was his adopted son and was ready to sacrifice alot for his only daughter. he just wanted a happy family, he wanted to protect them all under the roof of the last homely house but wasn't able as they all picked their own fates.

about thranduil who really wanted to protect his son after losing every other dear to his heart in the battle. but he got so overwhelmed with the grief that he almost lost legolas in the worst way possible — he lost the trust his son had in him as in his parent.

i am thinking about bard who raised his daughters and a son alone in the cold, damp town, carrying a burden of a failed hero in the heart and people's hero on the face. but all he ever wanted is to keep his children in his arms safe and sound.

and about thorin who became fili and kili's big, strong, role model father-figure that they looked up to and followed almost blindly because they believed in what thorin believed. they wanted to stand on the same ground thorin stood. they wanted to be by his side when thorin achieved what he set his mind to because thorin raised them well. he raised them as warriors and good, proud dwarves. even in the exile they should have known that they are powerful and thorin did his best to implant that.

about theoden too — who lost his son but still kept love for his nephew and niece. he fostered them under his wing, trusted them unconditionally and these kids loved him to the ends of the earth. he was ready to give eowyn the throne — she was ready to sacrifice herself to protect him in battle. they were one of the biggest joys to his heart. they loved him.

boromir got to experience what it is like to be a father he and his younger brother never had — he watched for years as his father was picking favourites and being dishearteningly rude towards the one he loved the most in this world. boromir saw these young, small, unprepared for war hobbits and wanted to give them at least a piece of good memory from the trip that was about to become terrible and fateful.

and aragorn. sweet, soft-spoken, kind aragorn who was raised by elves and had a heart of a human. he was such a protective, caring character — the way he treated frodo like he is his son that aragorn wanted to save from the burden, — i was convinced from the moment he started talking he is going to be an amazing father one day. i fucking trusted him.

i am thinking about them tonight. it's not a good night but these thoughts help to get through.

[ichoosechoasandbeingqueer]

Stolen Away

This is Day 20 of Fili whumptober!

Warnings:  a headache?

Word count: 740

After a long and grueling council session, Fili’s one saves him. 

Please refer to the warnings of this story.  If you go past this point you are consenting to reading this content. 

Hours. It had been hours of screaming, yelling, threats and general disagreement, and the dwarven council of Erebor still had not come to an agreement. Fili could already feel the headache pulsing behind his eyes as he sat at the end of the table of aggravated darrow and dams each set on their own desires and caring not for any adjustments to help settle the arguments. Now, Fili loved being King. He loved his people, his home and what the dwarven empire at his fingertips stood for. But meetings like this made him want to run away and hide. He had already glanced at the door a few times debating on doing just that.

Ever since Thorin retired his title and ran away to the shire with his consort, Fili had been at wits end trying to appease his disciples. His brother helped as much as he could from his position, never have the elves and dwarves had such good relations and trade in their history allowing both civilizations to thrive in each other’s allyship, but on days like these, not even his brothers comforting smile could wash away Fili’s woes. He did know who could however.

“Ok, time for a break,” the dark haired Durin mutter to Fili’s right, his own frustrations showing in the bend of his brown and the slight snarl on his lips, “this meeting has officially been brought to a respite. Everyone is to report in an hour with their new points of topic suggestions. Go,”

There were grumbles and whines but Kili sent them a look of fire and strutted out the door, urging the rest to do the same. Soon enough the chamber was brought to quiet as Fili remained seated alone.

The King rubbed his face slowly and groaned into his hands, ignoring the mountains of paper work piled around him.

“So the echoes ring true, the King is in need of saving?” a light and tender voice called out, the sound alone bringing a smile to Fili’s lips. He peaked through his fingers with a pleading look, his heart calming at the sight of his beloved watching him in a mixture of concern and amusement. She came to sit on the table in front of him and held out a glass of orange coloured liquid, “Kili said the meeting was a rough one,”

A small ‘mmh’ sound was all he could muster as he accepted the glass, his headache lessening the moment it touched his tongue. He closed his eyes once more and leaned against his wife with a sigh.

“Oh my poor gem,” she chuckled, and Fili felt her hands taking away the crown on his head. She replaced it with her fingers running through his long golden locks. The feeling made him purr in delight, and he wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer, not willing to let her go anytime soon.

“I’m better now that you’re here my jewel,” he grinned up at her from were he sat. As cheesy as it was, he was delighted to see the flush of red across her cheeks.

“Silly dwarf,” she muttered leaning down to kiss the top of his head, “did you get anything done at least?”

“Not a thing,” he moaned back, “Everyone’s at each other’s throats, no one wants to do anything differently, even if it gets them to same results at the end, and I’m sure half on them only put up their ideas to annoy the other half,”

“And how long do you have until the meeting is interval is finished?”

“An hour or so,”

“Plenty of time to steal you away then?”

Fili caught the mischievous flint in her eyes as she spoke and sent her a knowing look.

“To were love? I’m tired,”

“To nap then, somewhere quiet and soft?”

“Then save me and steal me away jewel,”

He stood to take her hand but gasped as she lifted him from the ground, her strong arms wrapping around him and pulling him to her chest like he weighed nothing.

“Now what on middle earth are you doing?” he spluttered, the burning of his cheeks apparent.

“What does it look like?” she grinned, nuzzling into his cheek, “I’m stealing you away,”

And that’s what she did, and Fili couldn’t have cared less about the stares and strange looks he received being carried back to the safety of his chambers in his wife’s arms.

✨ ✨ ✨ ✨ 

See full 31 day whumptober 2022 Master List here

[wild-lavender-rose]

Delicate

Pairing: Thorin x fem!reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: While training with Fili, you sustain an injury to your arm. Your husband Thorin finds you trying to stop the bleeding and is infuriated with Fili. Angered by his outburst, you remind him that you are far from the delicate queen he thinks you are. 

Warning: Description of injury, swordplay, brief insinuative kissing 

    “Come now, Fili.” You twirled your sword and shifted into a position of defense. “We both know I need the practice.”  

    “She speaks the truth.” Kili’s scoff caused you both to shoot him a look. He held his hands up in surrender. “What? You saw how she handled the last orc attack. If Thorin had not been there to save her,”  

    “Kili.” Fili’s deep voice was enough to quiet him. He turned back to you. “Fine then,” his sword rose. “Should you need me to stop,”  

    “Just begin.” You ordered, jaw set. 

     Kili was right, your swordplay was weak when the orcs had attacked your little hunting party. An orc had overtaken you easily, disarming you and getting you to the ground with an awful wound to your side. If Thorin hadn’t been there to block the orc’s final blow you would most surely have died. It had taken weeks to recover. But now you were strong and well and furious at yourself. You needed to get better at fencing, you had to. Hence your current position in the armory’s gigantic room dedicated to practicing for battle, awaiting Fili’s first blow.  

    It came unexpectedly, knocking you back a couple steps. Kili tensed, his casual position leaning against the wall growing forced. You gripped your sword with both hands.  

    Fili stepped forward. “You’re too focused.” He swung his sword twice. The clang of metal echoed throughout the room. “Allow your instincts to take control, they will serve you well.”  

    You shook your head, blocking his swing before taking one of your own.  

    He sidestepped it easily, striking out for your legs. You gasped as you fell, rolling over in time to block his death blow.  

    Fili’s eyes were worried. “You’re dead, my lady.”  

    You growled and pushed up, ignoring the sting in your leg as you fought back out of anger, of fear. Fili walked backwards, blocking every blow. “Better.”  

    “I must be the best.” You jerked back as he jabbed at your stomach, sweat growing hot on your skin.  

    “It’s impossible.” Kili called out.  

    You looked at him, gasping as Fili sliced his sword along your arm. “Focus on your opponent.” He ordered. “You cannot be the best if you do not,”  

    “Fili, that’s enough!” Thorin’s voice boomed, startling you both.  

    Your sword fell limp by your side as you looked to see Thorin striding towards you. “My love,”  

    “How dare you taunt her? Has she not been through enough?!” Thorin’s shoulder brushed yours as he advanced on Fili.  

    “No, Thorin, you do not understand,” you reached for him. “I asked for his assistance in this matter, both him and Kili.”  

    “You asked for this?” Thorin nodded to your arm.  

    You looked down, heart twisting at the cut Fili left when he sliced his sword along your bare skin. “It’s, it’s just a scratch.”  

    “I thought such things were implied,” Thorin’s tone was dark and murderous as he turned on Fili once more. “You are to be gentle with my queen during training, Fili.”  

    “Yes, uncle. I’m sorry,”  

    Anger flared within you. “I do not wish to be treated gently, not by Fili nor anyone else.” In two steps you were standing between Thorin and Fili, glaring up into his stormy expression without fear. “Perhaps if my training had been harsher I would have been able to protect myself from the orcs.”  

    “That is no reason for-,”  

    “That is every reason.”

    “My love,” Thorin’s expression grew tainted with worry. “Your skin, it, I cannot stand the thought of it carrying anymore scars,”  

    “And why not?” Your anger grew as you tugged your shirt up, revealing the ugly scar hiding underneath. “I would rather have a million scars to remind me I am getting better than a scar to remind me of the time I failed.”  

    Thorin opened his mouth, then closed it. Kili and Fili were silent.  

A tear slipped down your cheek. You shoved it away, brushing past him to stalk out of the armory, your sword clattering to the ground.  

                                                 # # # # #  

    “Do you need help?”  

    You looked up from where you were cleaning the cut on your arm to see Thorin lingering in the doorway to your shared chambers. You had changed into a white dressing gown, your left leg exposed up to the thigh, revealing yet another cut Fili had given you when he had knocked you to the ground. Thorin’s eyes lingered over the wound but he made no comment.  

    You bit your lip and returned your attention to the wound. “I am capable of tending it myself.”  

    “Do you…wish for me to leave?”  

    “No. They are your chambers as well, my king.”  

    Thorin stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, his voice remaining soft. “I wanted to…to apologize. For my actions.”  

    You stilled. Thorin was not known for being quick to apologize.  

    “When you…when the orc attacked you and you were injured, I thought that I had lost you. I don’t ever want to feel that way again.”  

    “Then allow me to train.” Your gaze met his once more. “You are not the only one who felt helpless that day. I must learn to be better, Thorin. I cannot, I will not stand by quietly and expect you to save me.”  

    “And I support you.”  

    “What?”  

    “I support you,” Thorin crossed to kneel before you, putting the bloody cloth you had been using to take your hand in his. “I will help you to train and I promise I will not go easy. I will train you as if, as if you were one of the men.” His gaze shifted down to your bare thigh. “Or, I will try at least.”  

    This caused you to smile. “Thank you, my king.”  

    Thorin smiled back, the gesture causing his eyes to twinkle with relief and something else. You watched as he leaned down, shuddering as he brushed a feather light kiss beside the cut on your thigh. “I love you.” He whispered.  

    “I love you.” You breathed.  

    “Please, allow me to help you, I must…make amends for my actions.”  

    “Yes, my king. You may proceed.”  

Fanfic Masterlist

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[nico-di-genova]

aroace Fili 🤝 aroace Legolas

Both being tired of Kili and Tauriel’s Shakespearian romance

[teacupcollector]

My Lover, My Monarch, My Friend (Thorin Oakenshield x GN Reader)

The Hobbit/LOTR Masterlist Summary: Thorin notices changes and unhealthy habits begining to form. All he can do is do his best to show you that he cares.

@robin-the-enby​ Requested:  Hello! Is it ok if I ask for Thorin and an s/o who struggles with an ed? Preferably anorexia, but you can leave it unspecified. I would just love some comfort...If you'd need more information, I'll gladly provide it! But if this is triggering for you or you don't want to write it, that's completely fine, just let me know <3 Thank you so much!!

A/N: This is my first time writing about an ED if this is triggering or hurtful in any way Let me know and I will remove it immediately 

Warnings: Slight description of an ED, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Thorin knows something is off with you, but he couldn’t pinpoint why his lover is so closed off recently. He notices you training more and more each day. You both don’t take your romantic baths together anymore. You both haven’t been intimate in a long time. Not that, that’s all he care about, he fell in love with your mind before all else. Though maybe it was your voice when you talked. The way your lips moved and how soft they looked, but still that voice would only speak when you had something brilliant to say. He hasn’t really heard your voice in a long time unless it was the small grunts and panting breath from training. You seem to be getting more and more tired recently, your stamina has been dropping and he is worried for you. You’re more pale and have been having constipation so he assumed that you were sick. He has offered his best healers and yet you refuse. Every injury you sustain on the training goes overlooked  -Not by him but by you- 

As of right now Thorin is in the dining hall waiting for your arrival. You both haven’t eaten any meals together in a long while. He decides to abandon his meal and grab yours before heading to your bed chambers. He neglects to knock since this is also his room. As he walks in he sees you putting on a night gown. He catches a glimpse of your body for just a moment and his brows knit together for a moment before you turn around with a gasp as the door shuts behind him.

“T-Thorin! I didn’t expect you to come to bed so soon.” You say. 

Your eyes glide down to the plate in his hand before looking away. Thorin pauses for a moment before setting the plate down in a seating area in the chambers.

“Would you like to eat  amrâl? (Love)” With out a second thought you shake your head.

Thorin raises a brow. “Aren’t you hungry?” He asks and you shake your head. “No my love. I was about to go to bed.” You say with a false smile.

Thorin looks at you for a moment before he shrugs. He catches you taking a breath of relief which confuses him further, but decides to leave it. 

“Let us sleep them my love.” He says as he begins to strip in front of one of the many wardrobes. 

He can feel your lustful gaze on him and he smirks, He doesn’t expect anything tonight but he loves the way goose bumps crawl over his skin when he feels you looking at him. Even after fifty years of being together he still gets that way. He hopes you feel the same way he does. 

He is now in a pair of sleep pants but lacking the night shirt. He looks down at the scar that litters the middle of his chest. He ignores that for now as he turns to face you. Which you are in bed already facing away from his side. Thorin looks as you bundle a blanket around you despite it being in the heat of summer. Thorin needs to get to the bottom of this. He decides to let himself rest.

The next day he is in the company of Balin.

“You look like you need an ear?” Balin says concerned.

Thorin is silent for a moment. “I am worried for my lover...”

“Why?” Balin asks.

Thorin begins to explain all that has happened, from not joining him at dinner, to refusing his loving advances, whether it be a kiss, cuddle, or making love, He tells his worries of how cold you are when you both do touch, how you shiver in the dead of summer. How you refuse to talk about how you are doing. Balin sighs.

“I don’t think it is in my place to tell. I say be patient and coax them out of this pit they are in.”

“I have tried Balin. I have tri-” Balin cuts him off.

“You might not have tried everything...” He says before removing himself from the room.

Later that night Thorin walks into your shared bedroom and sees you sitting on the furs near the fireplace. He sees that you are also bundled with furs. He takes a moment to sit behind you. 

“Hello my amrâl. (Love)” He says as he kisses the back of your head. He feels you lean against him.

He moves your hair away from your shoulder exposing your neck. He begins to place small kisses starting from the back of your ear to open mouth kisses to your shoulder. He begins to nibble and suck loving marks on your skin. His hands come to the front of your body. He feels you shiver against him and he can’t help but smile. He uses his left hand to turn your head toward him. He brings you into a gentle kiss. Your lips are slightly chapped but he ignore it for now as he begins to lay you down against the furs. He feels you tangle your hands in his hair as he places more open mouth kisses on your neck going toward your collar bone. He begins to lift the bottom of your gown while massaging your legs. He pauses his kisses for a moment before continuing up to your torso. As he feels along it you gasp and sit up quickly.

“I-I know what you are doing!” You exclaim and Thorin has a look of shame on his face.

“Why are you refusing to eat?” He asks and you turn away from him.

“My love...” He says in your native tongue. “Please tell me.”

“I... I feel that...Thorin, I can’t...” Thorin begins to protest but stops.

“You don’t have to tell me right now... But I want you to eat my love.” “I ca-” Yes you can. All of us will be there to help you...” Thorin says hoping that his words will get through to you.

Tears begin to collect in your eyes as he brings you into his arms. 

“My love you are the most beautiful being in all of Middle Earth... If I have to tell you that and worship your body every hour of the night I will. All I ask is you eat.” He sees you hesitate for a moment before cutting in on your thoughts. “If... If it’s a weight thing that you don’t like... I will glady get you some vegetables. You know... Like what the Elves eat...” He says slowly.

“We can start with that, you can have many beans and nuts for protein.” 

“Thorin you do-”  He cuts you off

“I do... You are my lover, my monarch, and my friend... I will not stop until those demons inside your head have left you. Until you believe that my words are true and that you will always look ravishing in my eyes, Even now I can’t keep my hands off you.” He says with a smirk which causes you to giggle. 

“Let us sleep. We will start in the morning.” You nod as you both head to bed.

It has been a few months now, and within those few months you went from a vegan diet, to a vegetarian diet and as of right now you are having your first sliver of meat. You feel yourself begin to sweat as you feel the company’s eyes on you. You stab the piece of meat with your fork and sniff it. You feel the urge to gag but your mouth is watering at the same time. You look over to Thorin who has a big smile on his face. You feel the warmth of his heart through his smile and you smile back. You end up stuffing the piece of meat in your mouth and clasping your hand over your mouth as to not spit it out. You chew, and chew, and chew before swallowing. You turn to Thorin who is waiting in anticipation. You open your mouth and lift your tongue as everyone cheers happily. Thorin leaves his seat and brings you into an embrace.

“You did wonderful my love!” He says.

“A true warrior you are my monarch!” Fili says.

“Absolutely! You are so brave your highness!” Kili exclaims.

You feel tears of happiness fill your eyes as you hide your face in his chest.

“I don’t know if I will eat meat that often... I might stay with veggies for a little while longer.” You say sounding small.

“Well this is a great first step. If you wish to stay with your original diet none will judge you. You did such a good job and you continue to make me proud every single day. I hope you always remember that.” 

You let out an uncontrollable sob and hug Thorin for dear life. You hear the skidding of chairs against the stone floor before you feel multiple bodies pile on top of your and Thorin’s. You and Thorin let out a laugh as they all continue to complement and cheer for you.

“I’d...” Your voice causes to voices to stand still. “Can I have more beans? They are very good.” Thorin’s eyes and smile widen. as he cups your cheek.

“That’s my lover...” He says as he places a tender kiss on your lips

[rucow]

may i offer you some fiddy art in these trying times? 🐈 they're scarf buddies!!

[ally-holmes]

Lion and Fire | Fili x Original Character

My Fanfic Masterlist | Multifandom

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Fili x OC | Background Thorin x Bilbo

Rating: Mature (just in case).

Content Warnings: canon divergence, everybody lives/nobody dies, the Durins are bad at romance, fighting tournament, misogyny (we’ll fight against it).

Summary: When Thorin tells Fili that Dáin has offered to introduce him to his goddaughter Maen and that expects them to get on good terms and, maybe, end up married, Fili decides that he’s going to hate her. Little does he knows that she’s not only beautiful, but she’s also smart and strong. He expected to be the one with an opinion on the matter, yet she confessing that she won’t marry him hurt his pride deeply. 

Word Count: 8012

Also available on AO3

This work was created to be part of the Deanobingo2023 event by @deanobingo​ It fills the Character Card with Fili and the General Prompt Card with Hurt/Comfort.

Lion and Fire | Oneshot

It's common knowledge among dwarfs that less than a third of their population are females and that pregnancies and deliveries are highly complicated and dangerous, therefore their children and dwarf ladies are cherished and cared for. However, a young dwarf lady in the Iron Hills turned the tables by giving birth eleven times, always quickly and powerfully. Among those eleven babies, seven of them were females. Those rarities gave the family high recognition among the population of the Iron Hills up to the point in which king Dáin pleaded for the couple to be the godfather of their youngest.

Their fame allowed them to marry their first daughter to a well-off smith. They loved each other, of course, but if the daughter hadn't been the first of eleven children the possibilities of marrying someone with a better position and income than them would've been remote at best. She gave the smith five children, four of them females, and two of them in one go. There was no such word in khuzdul for siblings that shared the womb although, in the common tongue, it was 'twins', apparently.

The success of that union helped the second daughter marry the son of the head of the guards. That was an impressive jump. Four wonderful daughters followed their marriage and the rumor of the magic of those dwarven ladies spread.

As the siblings of the youngster kept growing and marrying, she rolled her eyes with disgust and complained when her family insisted that because of the gift they obviously had she was meant to be kept indoors learning how to knit, sew, cook, and work in other small works like woodwork for tools or toys, and metalwork for jewels.

"Maen!" she heard her name being called and stopped in her tracks. Comically slowly, she turned her body to face the voice. King Dáin was looking at her with an arched brow. "What are you doing in the armory? Again."

"I rather not answer that, sire."

Shit. She shouldn't have said that because then the piercing look of Dáin noticed the axes she had tucked in a blanket. He sighed and approached the twenty-seven-year-old, "We've talked about this, Maen. You are a lady and–"

"I can fight as well as any other dwarf!"

"That's not the point. The point is that female dwarves are so scarce that the danger of the battle would reduce their number and it may cause our extinction."

Her frown and the fire in her eyes made Dáin smile. That young dwarf was like a daughter to him and he couldn't resist the pride swelling in his chest due to her determination.

"Very well. You'll be trained," her eyes lit up. "But do not expect any help just because you're the goddaughter of the king. You'll face the training like the others and if you fail you'll retreat."

"I won't fail!"

And she didn't. In fact, Maen became the best warrior of her generation. She was fast and strong with great coordination; her oldest brother-in-law forged her axes, sword, and knife with extra care. Maen's family had not taken greatly Dáin's decision to allow her to learn how to fight and smith among other things, but her bright smiles and good mood pushed them to accept it and help her the best they could.

Nevertheless, she grew up and the perspective of her marriage was smothering. Being the last of the sisters in line for marriage awakened a dark monster among the Iron Hills' population as every single male dwarf, despite their age, sent their intentions of courting the young dwarf once she was of age. Dáin cut that nonsense when the harassment became increasingly dangerous and he stated that whoever put his hands on his goddaughter without her proper consent would face a death sentence.

Kind of luckily for Maen, the year she became legally suitable for marriage was when the company of Thorin Oakenshield reclaimed Erebor successfully with the help of Dáin's army in their last moments. Not many people knew that Maen had an influence on Dáin's political decisions, but she did. When Thorin's letter begging for help arrived, she started thinking about the war machines they could carry to the Lonely Mountain to face the dragon, yet Dáin refused and put his foot down in that decision. She didn't let the topic drop, though, and thanks to her the Iron Hills' army was ready to part when Thorin's cry for help arrived. She had overpowered Dáin's stubbornness with her own.

The battle of the five armies was bloodshed. She fought back to back with Dáin and his second in command. Maen killed with both hands, not stopping until all their enemies were down, even if her arms were hurting badly or if her armor was soaked in blood. Once the battle had been won, Dáin looked at her across the battlefield and nodded highly pleased with her performance. Maen was a warrior and that day she proved to her fellow dwarfs that if they wanted to court her, they had a long battle ahead.

Prince Thorin and his nephews had been badly injured, but not deadly, which was great news for them. Winter was upon them and they had a decision to make: either they went back to the Iron Hills leaving the Oakenshield Company and the men of Laketown to their own volition, or they stayed trying to help and tending their own injured warriors.

Maen accompanied Dáin to the meeting with the elven king, Bard of Laketown, the wizard, Thorin, and a hobbit. While Dáin took a seat, she stood behind him with a hand carefully placed in the grip of her sword. She listened quietly while the discussions developed. The elven king was being a royal ass, Bard was a great leader, while Thorin and Dáin were being stubborn dwarves unable to see the privilege of a short alliance with the elves as they were able to provide them with food for the worst of the winter; no more than three months.

She cleared her throat when everything was starting to get ridiculous and Dáin closed his mouth immediately. Maen felt Thorin's eyes on her, but she didn't say anything, she didn't even move. Dáin sighed leaning back in his chair.

"Fine. Fine, you're right. Before the roads become intransitive, I'll send the healthiest injured dwarves back to the Iron Hills with word of sending back some of our resources for the winter. In doing that, we'll reduce the number of people in need in Erebor," Dáin conceded to everyone's surprise.

Gandalf studied Maen as if he was able to see through her soul.

"We need a place to stay as the dragon burned Laketown and Dale is inhabitable just yet. However, we understand that our number, although reduced after both the dragon attack and the battle, is still an inconvenience for Erebor and Mirkwood. I propose to divide our number and if you have room for us, king Thranduil, some of us would go with you, and the others would stay in Erebor, if possible." Bard was diplomatic and careful with his wording, but he wasn't giving any alternative. His people needed help and he was going to get it, he was willing to bend but not to break.

Maen fought her need to smile, but Dáin could sense her good mood and nodded to the man.

"Cousin, what are your thoughts? I haven't seen the mountain yet."

"I– I have not explored it in its whole. I do not know the extension of the dragon's damage," Thorin explained.

Bilbo, the hobbit, twisted his nose, looked around the table, and pressed his lips together before finally deciding to speak. "Um… I did. I came and went. Not much, really. I didn't want to get lost. The mountain is huge," that seemed to please Thorin. "There are a few large rooms whose structure is sturdy and it could keep all of us safe and such. Um… It might be like camping, but inside the mountain, though. We might need to build some tents inside to isolate and keep the warmth close to us because those rooms have very high ceilings."

"Huh… It can be done," said an old dwarf with red clothing and a white beard. Balin, if Maen remembered correctly, had been standing between Thorin and Bilbo's chairs, listening and not really talking, until now. "The forges were almost destroyed when we fought with the dragon inside, but the fire is still working and I'm thinking we might be able to use the old calefaction system. We can also get some fires in those rooms. And if some of the Iron Hills' dwarves are staying, they can guard the delicate parts of the mountain."

"My people would be under your orders, cousin, don't fret. I could go back if you don't need me here."

"We have a solution there. That's interesting," Gandalf noted with a controlled tone. "However, there's also the need for food. Even if Dáin gladly sends something from the Iron Hills, it wouldn't be sufficient."

"The lake is not incredibly far, but fishing can be dangerous depending on the weather," Bard explained.

"And Mirkwood is still dangerous to go hunting there. Plus, is farther than the lake," Bilbo pointed out.

"I guess there's no other option but to help you. However, if you expect this help to be–"

"It must be free or it wouldn't be 'help'," Bilbo spat with cold politeness.

Maen smiled then before biting her bottom lip. Thorin had seen her reaction and he looked at his cousin searching for answers as she had not been introduced at the beginning of the meeting.

"It's not like we can starve, and–"

"Then you must keep all the men in your realm," Maen cut him piercing his iced eyes with her own brown ones.

Dáin smiled smugly. "She's right, elven king. If you won't help the men that stay in Erebor, then you must take care of more of them. I'm sure I could take all my healthy dwarves and only leave here the badly injured ones, plus the company. It would be much easier for the Iron Hills to aid less than thirty people than three-hundred."

Thranduil was about to make a smart remark, but Gandalf's soft chuckle made him keep his mouth shut. His son, prince Legolas, accepted the previous conditions in his name. He was about to leave for the north, but he had stayed by Gandalf's plead to help with the negotiations.

"Beorn had offered to provide Erebor with flour and honey before the paths got cut due to the weather. If your majesty needs some aid with those ingredients, I'm sure he'll–" Gandalf was cut sharply by Thranduil dismissing the offering.

"We'll be ready to settle in half of the men. I'm sure some scouts would be able to hunt for the ones remaining in Erebor to survive the winter."

"Thank you, king Thranduil," Bard nodded to him.

With everything solved for the moment, the dwarves exited the tent with the hobbit. Bilbo seemed to have taken great interest in Maen, as he was glancing at her but trying to be subtle about it.

"May I help you, Master Hobbit?" She inquired with a playful smile.

"Oh! I'm… Uh… It's just, I…"

"The little guy must be intrigued about what's a dwarven lady doing here, are you not Mister Bilbo?"

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize. Most females don't do war, as it's supposed to be extremely dangerous."

Thorin arched an eyebrow at her, "It is extremely dangerous."

"Funnier than knitting."

"This is my goddaughter, Lady Maen, the Fire of the Iron Hills. I did not have time to introduce her before, cousin. She's responsible for our quick answer."

Confused, Thorin looked at her. "I kept pushing Dáin to come to Erebor and help you with the dragon. We were about to go out of the Iron Hills when the news arrived."

"She's a handful, cousin, a handful. Although, I have a proposal to make you," his tone and the fact that he was wrapping an arm around Thorin's shoulders made him tense.

"What proposal?"

"Are you interested in an alliance between Erebor and the Iron Hills? Stronger than the one we already have, of course."

"I won't be marrying her."

"Mahal, no! You're ancient for her!"

Bilbo snorted at that. Thorin shot him a look.

"Your nephews, on the other hand… Fili's the heir, is he not? Maen is Kili's age, so it wouldn't be such a difference between her and Fili. What do you think?"

"I won't impose a marriage upon my family."

Dáin laughed in good spirits, "If you believe I can make Maen do anything she's not comfortable with, you're highly mistaken. All I'm asking is if you think they could meet, and see what happens."

"Couldn't you have talked to me about it before?" Maen sighed.

"Now, where would the fun be in that?"

Things got settled then without any promises or concessions. Maen assisted Bilbo in tending the survivors and arranging the mountain for the winter. She wasn't as close-minded or prone to prejudice as her fellow dwarves, therefore she immediately took a liking to the hobbit which made Bilbo feel at ease in her presence. Before the worst of the winter fell upon them, and once the Iron Hills' supplies were well stoked in Erebor, Maen left with Dáin.

Five years later, Thorin reached out to Dáin accepting the proposition of having Maen and Fili meet, but he was clear enough that Fili had the final decision, not him.

That's how five years after the battle of the five armies, a caravan of dwarves from the Iron Hills closed the distance with Erebor once again. Rumors about Maen had been spread among the Ereborians; they knew about the good luck of the females in her family and that she was Dáin's goddaughter, yet even if they believed that they couldn't comprehend that she being a warrior was just as true as the other things. When she showed up in the throne room with a gorgeous magenta velvet dress with golden embroidery, intricate braids in her hairstyle, and beautiful jewelry designed for a princess more than for the youngest child of a poor family, the rumor spread that she was well educated, feminine, and, in no way, a warrior.

The throne room was occupied by king Thorin, his consort Bilbo, and his advisor Balin. Dáin stomped happily forgetting all about protocol much to Thorin's amusement.

"Cousin!! It's good to see you where you belong. Up and healthy, no less. Good. Good," he nodded vehemently.

"I hope the journey had not been too difficult for you, Dáin."

"Nothing can break us, Thorin. Ah! You better remember Lady Maen," with a gesture of his hand, she made a small bow.

"Impossible to forget. Welcome, Lady Maen. I hope your stay in Erebor would be pleasurable."

"If I may, sire, allow me to compliment the state of the mountain. In only five years, it has changed too much I can barely remember where all the debris was."

"Indeed. Time flies and we've been using it wisely. My consort has taken special care in the election of your rooms, and I've been warned that you would need free access to our library if you are to be happy under our roof," Thorin stated with a mischievous glint in his eyes that contrasted with the deepness of his voice.

Maen blushed violently as Dáin laughed, "There are two places that cannot be kept away from Maen, cousin, one of them is the library and the other is the arena. Don't let her fool you, she's as much of a handful as your nephews when she's determined. Not as mischievous, perhaps."

"I'm standing right here," she deadpanned.

She had been thinking about this meeting since Thorin's letter arrived at the Iron Hills, yet she never, in her wildest dreams, imagined Thorin Oakenshiel burst into laughter at something she'd said. Maen stopped breathing due to the surprise, and when she locked eyes with Bilbo, she relaxed as the consort had a familiar welcoming and caring air surrounding him.

"Well… Where's the lad?" Dáin asked then.

Thorin seemed nervous then, glancing at his consort. "We might have misplaced him," Bilbo pointed out.

"But don't fret, Dáin, Dwalin, and Dís are looking for him at this very moment," Balin added.

"He knew I was coming, didn't he?" She asked Bilbo directly.

The hobbit cleared his throat changing his weight anxiously. "Of course! We– Um… We told him this morning."

"This morning."

"Then we could prevent him from going out of the mountain," Thorin explained.

Before she could say anything else, the door burst open with amazing strength. A dwarf lady wearing a rich Durin's blue dress and an impressive braided upsweep, with mithril beads on her beard, appeared stomping in furiously; on one hand, she was carrying a heavy hammer while the other had a firm grip on the back of the clothes worn by a blond dwarf being dragged by her. A few steps behind them, a huge bald dwarf full of ink had another dwarf on his shoulders carrying it like a sack of coal. The dwarf lady didn't seem put off by the presence of the Iron Hills dwarves, it mostly fueled her anger if Maen had to go by the way her frown deepened.

She dropped the blond dwarf to the floor, right at Thorin's feet. The bald dwarf hadn't dropped the other dwarf that was fighting with all he had kicking and punching him without result. Thorin closed his eyes a moment before grunting an 'Up' full of ire.

The blond dwarf stumbled to get to his feet, when his blue eyes found his new audience, he ran a hand through his messy mane and stood excessively self-satisfied. Maen arched an eyebrow utterly unimpressed.

"Lady Maen, allow me to introduce you to my sister, Lady Dís. This is her son, and Crown Prince of Erebor, Fili," when Thorin noticed Maen's eyes glancing at the other two still struggling, he sighed. "And that's the chief of the guard, Dwalin, and Fili's brother, Kili."

"We do apologize for this terrible first encounter," Dís rapidly assured.

"Please, do not worry. I had been warned that he had been misplaced."

Fili rolled his eyes and Maen fought her urge to just push him. She had made a long journey to come and meet him!! The least he could do was behave like a proper dwarf.

"I was also told that I share a birth year with Kili," she looked pointedly at the dwarf on Dwalin's shoulder. The young dwarf stopped fighting to get free. "I must say I beg to differ."

Thorin snorted, "You and I, both."

"Why don't we show our guests their rooms?" Bilbo asked looking at Balin.

"Great idea! I'm sure you must want to rest before supper is ready," the advisor smiled at them.

"That'll be great, Master Balin," before following him and the others, Maen took Fili's look on with an enigmatic smile. The prince twitched under her scrutiny. "It would be impossible for us to get to know each other if you keep running away, prince Fili; and here I thought you were called Lion for a reason…"

As she left she could hear Dís loud laugh and a pleased, "I like her already!"

The quarters Maen was placed in were beautiful and cozy, they had a clear hobbit influence and she loved it. Bilbo had left a small stock of books in her room with a nice note. She felt moved by Bilbo's easy way of making people around him feel taken care of one way or another. Thorin's good humor was a total surprise, yet incredibly welcome. The brothers' stunt had hurt her, however. She couldn't understand how someone could just be so disrespectful to someone they didn't know. Maen understood that maybe Fili had already someone he wanted to court and he hadn't talked to his uncle about it, but they could've talked about it at least. There was no need to run away and reject her like that. Perhaps Fili had heard about her humble birth and that was a dealbreaker for him even though it didn't seem to be the case with Thorin or Dís.

As she considered the possibilities of the prince's behavior her mood soured. Something heavy sunk into her stomach.

When supper was ready, she walked to the dining room next to Dáin. Thorin's company was there, as they were now noblemen. Fili and Kili kept mostly for themselves although their mother confronted them with harsh whispers every now and then. Maen took this opportunity to get to know the others and she found herself charmed by Ori's shyness as he explained how he was now the head of the library and he'd been taking extra care of the books with Bilbo. Maen shared her love for books and complained about how scarce her library in the Iron Hills was compared to what she'd heard of the one in Erebor.

Ori's older brother, Dori, complimented her on her dress and she immediately explained that the intricate work had been made by one of her sisters.

"I'm not as good with fabrics and threats as I am with the sword, I'm afraid."

"The rumors are true, then?" Nori asked with a glint in his eyes. As far as she had been able to perceive, Nori loved all kinds of digressions of the norms. That included the fact that Maen was a warrior.

"Without having listened to the rumors myself I'm not able to confirm nor deny them, Master Nori. However, I am in fact a warrior. I came here five years ago a helped in the battle."

A snort made her turn her head sharply. Kili, bright red, was choking on his food.

"Seriously?" Bilbo muttered tiredly as he approached the young prince to clasp him in the back, "This is a divine punishment for trying to make fun of her. Just so you know," the hobbit whispered to him; it was so loud, however, that the whole room heard it.

Maen approached Dwalin after dessert had been eaten, and she started a conversation about axes and their different forms. It immediately engaged the warrior in an enjoyable chat about the advantages and disadvantages of long axes, short axes, extra curly axes, and so on. When Maen told him that his brother-in-law was the smith that made her weapons, Dwalin immediately showed interest in giving them a few blows and he even invited her to the arena.

Before the night was called off, she approached the princes. Without the ceremony and respect that she should show them due to their rank, she sat in front of them with an eyebrow arched and her arms crossed on her chest.

"Well? Anything you want to say to my face or you two rather whisper each other's ears off like a couple of grannies?"

"What are you doing here, exactly?" Kili wondered with a frown.

"I've been asked to come and meet with you guys. Dáin's idea is that, if Fili and I like each other we could get married."

"And if I don't want to marry you?" Fili spat straightening his back.

Maen snorted rolling her eyes, "Sweetheart, right now I'm the one who won't marry you. You haven't even been nice enough for me to be able to consider you a friend in the future. I'm going to stay here as long as Dáin wants, so you better grow up and face the fact that I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"What if we make you leave?" Kili whispered in a poor try at being menacing.

She giggled. "Ow, you're cute. I won't leave. It's refreshing being somewhere where I don't have to be looking over my shoulder for someone to shove courting gifts in my face."

"Are you that popular in the Iron Hills?" Fili seemed skeptical and Kili was blushing so hard that his brain was going to melt.

"Dáin had to make a decree for them to leave me alone. It worked… for the most part."

*

Two weeks after that terrible first day, the princes seemed less ridiculous around her, which was great, but they still treated her like a pest. When Dís or Thorin agreed that Fili would accompany Maen to the market, he made her wait for at least an hour before showing up sweaty and dirty from fighting in the arena, Kili close behind him; as might be expected, the fact that the brothers were together implied that they lead her to the market and then ignore her in favor to talk to each other, the shop owners, or cute lady dwarves that walked through the market.

Maen kept feeling unwanted, disrespected, and hurt. The murmurs around Erebor saying that there was no way she was a warrior because she was too delicate, too soft, too nice, too girly… didn't help to improve her mood at all.

On the second day of the third week, she was invited to witness the tournament between warriors from the Iron Hills and from Erebor in the arena. Apparently, Thorin and Dáin had decided to rescue that form of healthy entertainment in order to cheer her up. She, boldly, asked Thorin if Fili was going to participate, to which he assured her that he would.

The day of the tournament rolled by and Maen was nowhere to be found. The rules were simple: no biting, no hurting in extra sensitive areas, and no killing; the local fighters would walk to the center of the arena and a visitor fighter would decide to duel him. Usually, the best warrior or, in this case, the prince, was the last one in moving to the center of the arena as it was the big show to close the tournament. As the time to start came close and all the visitor fighters were in their place, Fili approached his uncle with a concerned frown.

"Where is she?"

"Clearly not here."

"Uncle, we're doing all of this for her entertainment," he complained.

"No. We're doing this because you begged for a chance to make it right with her."

"While showing off, of course," Bilbo chimed in.

"That too. However, we cannot force her to come and see you fight after how badly you've treated her."

"This is not fair!"

"Shut your mouth and go to your place. I didn't raise you to whine like this, Fili," Dís snarled.

Dáin had listened to the exchange with a pleased and smug smile on his face.

The tournament started strongly. Dwalin was one of the first participants and he demolished the Iron Hills' fighter in less than ten minutes without breaking a sweat. Fili paid half attention to the arena as his eyes kept searching in the audience for someone familiar hoping that Maen's curiosity pushed her to go down there even if it was camouflaging herself to blend with the Ereborians. Kili, who wasn't a participant in the tournament, approached his brother from behind the fighters' bench.

"Nervous? You're next."

"No. I don't care. She's not even here."

"Does that mean that you're going to perform badly because your girlfriend is not here to see you win? Pathetic."

"Oi! She's not my girlfriend."

"Of course not," he scoffed. "Maen said clearly that she wouldn't marry you if you keep being an ass, and you've been even worse than an ass. Now you like her, though, and you cannot stand the idea of her marrying one of his many, many, many, many–"

"Shut your mouth."

"–many, many, many suitors in the Iron Hills. Who knows? Maybe Dáin offers her to marry his son."

A spike of jealousy bloomed in Fili's eyes and Kili smirked.

"If you perform greatly I'm sure Ori would talk to her about it."

Kili was a mastermind… on occasion. He knew that Fili had grown wary of the little librarian due to the amount of time he spent with Maen talking about books, and it was the right amount of fuel needed for his brother to stomp to the middle of the arena when his turn came.

The visitor fighters looked directly at one of them, one who had stayed in full armor –helmet included– since the beginning; it seemed as if they knew that fighter wanted to destroy the heir of Erebor. What if he was one of Maen's suitors? Fili was screwed. Kili gave his brother a thumbs-up and ran to his mother.

"Fili's going to die."

"Perhaps," she smiled.

The fighter faced Fili with a long sword in hand, and a couple of axes stored on his back. He bowed to the prince as requited and then waited for the signal to begin.

Fili took the initiative of the first blow. They shared some tentative blows, not really revealing their strength, and suddenly Fili used all this strength on one blow that the fighter wisely dodged, he punched the prince in the face with the hand holding his sword and Fili stumbled to the side. Fili's helmet allowed me to see his face and hair, but the fighter's blow hurt nonetheless. Grunting, Fili charged against him and, this time, the fighter responded with similar strength pushing his body against Fili's not allowing him to take any advantaged position. When Fili punched the fighter in the guts he didn't emit a sound, the dwarf was tougher than expected.

The fighter gained an area against Fili. As their swords were pushing against each other, none of them ready to yield, the fighter crushed Fili's foot making him lose some strength in his attack which gave the fighter room to disarm him, go around him, and kick his back throwing the prince to the floor.

Instead of taking that point of advantage and winning the battle, the fighter receded, threw his sword to a corner of the arena far away from him, and pulled his axes from the back. He gave them a colorful twist in his hands before turning to the prince. Fili had taken off his helmet with fury, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were lit with determination and ferocity. He couldn't see the features of the fighter, but the small bow was mockingly enough to fuel the prince's anger.

Fili took his throwing knives from their hiding place and threw them in quick succession; the fighter hit every one of them with precise movements of his axe while approaching the prince. Without anything else to throw, Fili launched himself to the floor made a turn, and grabbed his sword just in time to block one of the axes. He rejected the attack and ran to where his discarded shield was; how had he been so cocky as to believe he wouldn't need it, he didn't know.

The audience held their breath, the arena was in complete silence apart from the fighters' weapons crashing. One of the axes got blocked by the sword for the seventh time, but this time the position prevented Fili from pushing it back; the other ax hit his shield repeatedly, over and over and over and over. The hits were fast and strong, never hesitating nor showing tiredness. Fili's shield arm felt every hit like a jolt until a particularly hard hit shocked him from the wrist to the shoulder provoking a spasm that made him drop the shield with a painful moan. The fighter then kneed him in the uncovered side throwing him onto the floor once again.

As the prince fought to stand up, the fighter kicked him again before throwing his sword far away from his reach. The fighter stood proudly next to the whining prince and slid his ax under the blond's chin waiting for him to admit his surrender.

"I yield. I yield!!"

Fili's words made the arena break to sound again. The fighter retreated his weapon, yet he didn't move and Fili was too tired to try to get up.

"That's my girl!!" Dáin's yell overpowered the other voices.

The fighter tilted his head to one side, still facing Fili. He put his axes on his back again before pulling the helmet off. Maen's face appeared then and Fili was unable to produce a word.

"Fili, the Lion of Erebor, had been defeated by Maen, the Fire of the Iron Hills. This tournament has been–" Thorin kept with his speech but Fili couldn't make sense of his words.

Maen nodded at him and turned leaving him on the floor of the arena.

*

Fili sat heavily in a chair by the fire. His body ached horribly after the fight, bruises had been blooming on his torso, and his shield arm was stiff. Kili handed him a mug of warm ale with a cheeky grin.

"She kicked your arse."

"Of course she did," Thorin claimed. "Lady Maen is one of the best warriors of the Iron Hills."

"But she's a lady!!" Fili complained.

"Excuse me?" Dís looked pointedly at her son, who immediately cowered in his chair.

"What I don't understand is why you don't just ask her to spend some time together. You clearly like her," Kili pressed.

"Durin's are bad at romance, lad," Dwalin laughed.

"What do you mean?" Kili was suddenly interested while Fili just sipped his cup.

"Do you remember how Thorin treated Bilbo during our journey?" Balin asked in his calmer voice. "He was insufferable just because he thought the hobbit was cute."

"I did not!"

Dwalin snorted at Thorin's outrage.

"It was sad to see."

"It happened the same with Dís. She made your poor father bleed and cry before accepting his proposal," Balin added.

"Why did you shove me into this mess?" She complained and punched her brother's arm when he laughed.

"I didn't treat Tauriel badly when I met her," Kili thought out loud.

"That's because you're more like your father," Balin explained, not allowing the others to jump at the mention of the elf.

"Well, what am I supposed to do now?" Fili claimed the attention was on him again.

"Stop being an ass to her would be a good start. Although if you really do not like her that much I could always ask her out–"

"Kili don't mess with your brother when he's clearly suffering."

"Yes, mother."

"I have to say you're quite lucky, lad. Maen's not like any other lass; not even like any other dwarf. She wouldn't hold a grudge for long. It's up to you."

Dwalin's words echoed in Fili's mind as his eyes looked over the flames.

Not far away from the royal quarters where they were having their little chat, were Maen's. She had taken a very long bath, and dried carefully her bushy mane of dark brown hair before tying it in a careful braid whose sole objective was to avoid it tangling in her sleep. She sat next to her own fire with a romance book in her hands. Her focus wasn't the best at that moment, hence her relieved sigh when her torture was cut short by a knock on her door.

Bilbo Baggings was on the other side of the door with understanding showering his features. Maen invited him to enter the living area, pleased by the tray with backed goods and tea that Bilbo placed carefully on a small table.

"I hope you like scones, Lady Maen."

"I cannot say I've had them before, Mister Bilbo, but please, call me Maen."

"Bilbo for me then." After taking a few bites with a meaningless conversation, Bilbo twisted his nose, cleared his throat, and brushed the crumbs away from his fingers. "I wanted to apologize."

Maen blinked in confusion, "Please no, do not do such a thing. You've been nothing but nice to me, Bilbo. There's nothing you should apologize about."

"I beg to differ. I– I presumed that because you're a dwarf you'll have it easier here, that you'll click with Fili faster than– Well… I'm a hobbit, not a dwarf, and you know how reserved dwarves could be; I had it hard with the company for a big part of our journey, and when Thorin confessed his feelings I could only think about the council opposing and the Ereborians just hating me.

"I'm not entirely sure how I managed to have the position that I have now, but I'm certain that I own the company a big deal of it. Especially to Thorin.

"I shouldn't have presumed that you wouldn't feel left out or unwanted by your fellow dwarves. I guess you and I are alike on that front as I had been pinned down as an oddity by my fellow hobbits back in The Shire. I didn't quite fit there."

"Female dwarves aren't meant to be warriors, there's too little of us and pregnancy is a deadly risk on its own. The armory called for me daily, nonetheless, and Dáin was kind enough to consent to my training instead of pushing me to the knitting room. Even if that can be seen as an oddity in the Iron Hills, my family is well-known there, and I received offerings for courting way before I was of age. It wasn't ideal, of course, but being here makes me miss it. At least there I'm not underestimated."

"Fili likes you. He really does, Maen. He's just as stubborn as his uncle when it comes to facing his feelings. Did I tell you that the first time Thorin saw me, after arriving late I may add, he looked at me, head to toe, and said 'so, this is the hobbit' as if making fun of me? The audacity!"

"I expect you've made him resent that, Bilbo."

"Why, of course!! Soft, he said. Me! Ha! You've been way too nice to Fili, never losing your temper or chewing his head off. It's time for you to put your foot down, and let me tell you that your performance today was spotless. Everyone in the mountain is talking about it. There are rumors about 'the Lion and the Fire of Erebor'."

Maen laughed anxiously, her face warm with blush.

*

Three days after the tournament Fili offered Maen to spend a morning in Dale as she hadn't seen it since the battle and their market was interesting. That led to her waiting at the front doors, as usual, two days later, although this time she had taken the precaution of inviting Ori with her. Nori was obviously close, but he appeared to be ignoring them.

Ori was explaining with great enthusiasm the rich quality of Dale's paper and ink when Fili approached them. Maen glanced at him with an arched brow.

"Are we in a rush?" She questioned in lieu of a greeting.

Fili hesitated in his septs frowning, "Not that I'm aware of. Why?"

"You're on time."

"Yes."

"You're never on time. Usually, I would have to wait for at least an hour for you to be here."

Fili cleared his throat lowing his face with shame, "Yeah. I apologize for that. Um… Shall we go now?"

"Aren't we waiting for Kili?" She looked around in confusion.

"He's not coming."

Maen stared at Fili as if he had just shaved his beard. "On time and without Kili. I'm afraid to ask if Lady Dís had some sort of conversation with you."

"She did not."

"Huh… Well, I appreciate the changes, of course, yet I had already taken the precaution of getting my own companion as I was expecting you and your brother to be busy with each other. Ori here is going with us."

"I'm sorry Fili, I would leave you two alone, but Dori has given me a list of things to purchase in Dale. And you know how Dori can be if he doesn't get what he wants."

"No. It's– It's fine, Ori. The more the merrier. Shall we go then?"

Maen shared a conspicuous look with Ori before following Fili and some guards toward the ponies. Ori had been her ally in the mountain as well as Bilbo, and when she voiced her worries about the journey to Dale becoming just another day of being mistreated, Bilbo had suggested bringing Ori with her and the little scribble had beamed with the prospect of visiting Dale's market again.

Tables had turned and Fili wasn't happy about it.

Dale was impressive and richly decorated, their buildings were colorful and stunning; some of them had kept most of their past structure and there were marks of orc weapons on some walls. Ori explained to an astonished Maen, that Bard had rebuilt the city wanting to keep the memory of past times; like a homage. She understood the sentiment, there were claw marks in Erebor still and she already assumed it was a reminder of what could happen if they weren't careful with their greed.

The market was crowded, full of men, but also a good amount of dwarves and elves. Maen was bouncing on her feet excited to see, touch, and buy whatever came across her. She did not ignore Fili on purpose, although she must admit that having been used to being ignored by him she stopped thinking about reaching for him long ago, therefore her mindset was sure that he was just ignoring her as usual. Ori and Maen enjoyed every second in the market, they bought some books, paper, ink, quills, fabric, yarn… It was ridiculous.

After long hours waiting in the market, the dwarves started to feel hungry and then Maen turned to look for Fili and found him frowning, his mouth pressed in a sad thing line.

"Should we come back to the mountain to eat, or should we find a tavern here?" She asked him.

Fili scowled. "Let's go back."

Ori gave Maen a guilty look.

It wasn't until they were back in Erebor that Maen approached Fili, she crossed his path impeding him to run to his quarters. She waited until he gathered the patience and courage needed to look her in the eyes.

"How does it feel?" To her question, Fili frowned deeper in confusion. "Did you enjoy being ignored? Did you feel unwanted? Disrespected? Hurt?" Fili's expression opened up with a glint of awareness in his blue eyes. "Yeah. Is not very nice, is it? I did not intend to ignore you today, yet I expect that with you discovering how that behavior of yours hurt me, you'd be more careful in the future."

Not waiting for an answer, Maen nodded to the prince and left.

He didn't ignore her again.

*

Fili was running but he was not advancing and right before his eyes, Azog stood fighting against Maen. The frustration built up inside of Fili, he needed to reach her before the pale orc hurt her, he had to– he had– he–

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO" he screamed as Azog skewered his spear across Maen's torso.

He woke up with a jolt of pain in his own wound. A sheet of cold sweat covered his skin. He traced the long scar from his chest to his belly with his fingers still in a daze when a hard knock on his quarters' door awakened him completely. It was the middle of the night, there probably were five hours before dawn. Fili put on a gown and padded towards the door, opening it with caution. A young guard stood there uncomfortable.

"Sire, my apologies for the disturbance."

"What's wrong?"

"It's Lady Maen, sire, she's in the arena and we don't know how to proceed. Master Nori order me to ask you."

The prince frowned registering the information, "Leave her alone. I'll– I'd be on my way. Do not disturb her."

"Aye, sire."

Fili got dressed faster than ever, he grabbed his sword and headed to the arena. He nodded to the guards and to Nori, but they didn't share a word. There, in the arena, was Maen training with her axes, only a couple of torches illuminating the room. Fili recognized the tension in her shoulders and the determination in her frown, she'd had a nightmare.

He approached her with determination. Maen glanced at him and stopped her movements, but she didn't say anything, nor did he. With a nod of acknowledgment, Fili and Maen started sparing although not as violently as in the tournament as neither of them was wearing armor.

Tired to the bone due to the exercise, Fili got himself stuck in the same position that pushed his defeat in the tournament. Instead of kneeing him in the side as she did that time, Maen swapped her foot under his forcing him to lose his balance and fall to the floor on his back. She smiled at him, openly and sincerely. Fili laughed, offering his hand for her to take expecting her to help him get up. Maen threw her axes to the side and grabbed his arm, yet before she could pull him, the prince pulled first, making her fall against his chest.

Maen let out a surprised gasp before laughing at the childish move. Fili pushed his luck just a little farther, turning them in the arena until she was under him. She stopped laughing and arched an eyebrow at him, challenging his next move. Fili blushed violently; his eyes darted from her eyes to her lips. Sighing, the prince rolled to his side until he was on his back looking at the ceiling next to Maen, who was now looking at him. Fili noticed the movement in the shadows in the corner of his eye and he was sure that Nori was ready to intervene if he had done what he really wanted to do.

Instead of that, Fili pulled out a richly decorated mithril bead and handed it to Maen.

"I, Fili son of Dís, Crown Prince of Erebor, solicit permission to court you, Maen, goddaughter of Dáin Ironfoot, with this courting bead I had made myself."

Maen burst into a childish laugh, "Only you could ask with such a posh manner while both of us are sweaty and tired from a spar session in the middle of the night."

"That's not an answer," Fili singsonged twisting the bead in his fingers.

"Yes, you idiot! But beware, if you behave like an arse again I can call it off anytime."

"I won't."

Their laughs echoed in the arena ignoring that they had Nori win a huge amount of money.

It wasn't until that night, at supper, when with all the company and their families reunited around the table, Fili approached Maen with a wooden box.

"This is the first courting gift of many. Although I'm aware of what tradition requires for me to give you, I expect to know you better than to gift you some expensive fabric for embroidery."

Maen pressed her lips to avoid smiling too soon and she opened the box. The typical courting gifts a dwarf lass received were focused on her alleged skills in textile matters, some woodwork, maybe jewels… Fili had gifted her a dagger whose grip and sheath were engraved with loving care and decorated with precious gems.

"Fili made it himself. All of it," Kili explained filling in the silence. "He had been a pain in the ass for the last three weeks because–"

Dís hit her son in the ribs to keep him quiet.

Maen looked at Fili, his smirk had become a shy little smile and his eyes were bright with nerves and hopes. A small movement of his brows made her understand that she hadn't accepted the gift properly yet.

"I accept the gift. It's perfect, Fili. Thank you."

The tension abandoned Fili's body to the point of him needing a chair before fainting.

At one point, in the future, people would remember Fili and Maen not as the King and Queen Under the Mountain, but as the Lion and the Fire of Erebor.

The End

[laurfilijames]

In Your Arms

Pairing: Durin’s Garage Fili x reader

Words: 682

Warnings: none

Summary: Both you and Fili are exhausted, physically and emotionally, from the toils of the world and life and find comfort in each other and a nap.

A/N: I haven’t really been writing and I realized I haven’t posted anything in over 30 days and have been struggling so much with that, and as much as I want to be working on my other stories this was something quick and comforting that came to me so here. And yes it’s sleep intimacy again don’t come at me.

There’s so much going on in the world right now and I think everyone, regardless of what is happening in your life, could use a little rest in the arms of your favourite character. 💗

———

Fili couldn’t keep his eyes open a moment longer; being stuck under the belly of a rusty car until the early hours of the morning and then waking up to go back again after only a few quick hours of sleep finally having caught up to him.

His body felt beat up, his limbs heavy with fatigue and mind foggy; and even still he felt guilty as he sank into the welcoming hug of the mattress. He shouldn’t be taking a nap, he thought as his head crashed against the pillow that smelled of you, but it felt so good. One arm moved up to flop above his head while the other rested on his stomach, his thumb moving idly over his own skin in a soothing way in your absence.

Just a few minutes, he told himself as his eyelids fell shut and a deep sleep quickly took him.

Your day hadn’t even been that bad, you cursed yourself as you furiously wiped away the tears that fell onto your cheeks despite trying to hold them back. There were far worse things to be upset about, far worse situations to be in or concern yourself with but you couldn’t help it. You felt drained, exhausted and defeated. The world was heavy and when you thought of one bad thing, it instantly snowballed into something else that made you want to weep even more. But your heart lifted a little when you saw Fili’s truck already parked in the driveway, relieved he was home after not having seen much of him the last two days. You missed him, ached for him more than ever, and you made it into the house before you could register what your body did to get you there.

It was quiet, and your heart beat with a pang of worry when you didn’t hear music coming from the kitchen or the sound of pots and pans clinking together in a harmony of dinner being made.

You placed your shoes next to Fili’s boots that had been kicked off carelessly, the oil stained into the worn leather evidence of the grueling and dedicated hours he put into his craft.

Soft snores became recognizable as you moved toward the bedroom, and you smiled weakly when you saw the tired form of your loving mechanic sprawled out in bed sound asleep.

A wash of fatigue hit you like a wall, your body and mind agreeing that a nap was the best choice on this emotionally draining day, and you instantly crawled into bed and tucked yourself up against Fili’s warm and welcoming body, knowing that in his arms everything that felt too much to bear would become a little less daunting.

He startled awake, jumping slightly as though he didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep or that it wasn’t his intention to do so.

He hummed and rubbed his thumb and forefingers over his blood-shot eyes aggressively, trying to wake himself up after being in such a hard sleep. “I was just about to get up.”

You nestled closer to him, wrapping your arm over his torso, your leg covering his like a vine.

“Let’s stay here a while,” you requested quietly, giving him a slight squeeze in hopes he would comfort and ground you just as easily as he always did.

Fili adjusted slightly to look at you, seeing the weariness in your face, your worry and unease unable to go unnoticed even in his own worn-out state.

Without saying a word, he pulled you closer and placed his lips on your forehead, allowing you to sink in against his chest, his warmth and scent surrounding you in a reprieve you’d been desperate for all day. His hand smoothed over your hair as he languidly stroked the back of your head before he ceased and placed another kiss on your crown while you nestled into his furry chest.

Fili let out a compliant sigh, more than happy to lay here with you in his arms for as long as it took for you both to get the rest you sought.

———

Taglist:

Everything:

@guardianofrivendell @midearthwritings @cassiabaggins @lilith15000 @trishthedishofreis @linasofia @unbeatablecurlgirl @the-poldarkian @lathalea @enchantzz @blairsanne @legolaslovely @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @sketch-and-write-lover @jotink78 @medusas-hairband

Fili: @shethereadinghobbit @ragsweas @faeriefics

[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.

Chapter Four

Fíli paces the living room, running a hand through his tangled hair, only succeeding in tangling it further. Shafts of dawn light peek through the window, taunting him with reminders of the sleep he did not get. His head snaps up when he hears footsteps from down the hall. “Y/N, I–”

But it’s not you. Instead, Thorin stands before him, arms folded and looking at his nephew expectantly.

“Where is she? She never returned to our chambers.”

Thorin nods back toward the way he came.

“Is…” Fíli swallows hard. “Is she upset?”

“She came to my door last night, would not say what was wrong, and began to cry.” Thorin raises an eyebrow. “So, is she upset?”

Fíli’s heart sinks. “She was crying?”

“Sobbing would be a better word.” Thorin shakes his head and sighs. “Fíli, what happened?”

Fíli turns his head away, face growing hot with shame and guilt. “I said hurtful things. Foolish, hurtful things.”

“Such as?”

Is he really going to make me repeat it? Fíli steels himself as if he’s the one on the receiving end. “I asked her if it was real. The dance. The kiss. Or if she only did it because it was expected of her. Because people were watching.”

“You are right. That was foolish and hurtful,” Thorin snorts.

Fíli sinks down onto the couch, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead. “I messed up.” He runs his hand down his face. “Some husband I am,” he mutters.

Thorin studies the wretched dwarf in front of him. Fíli is hunched over, shoulders drawn and tight. He stares dully at the ground. Every once in a while, he shakes his head to dispel some thought, mustache braids swaying with the movement.

“You are dismissed from your duties today,” Thorin says curtly.

Fíli looks up, dumbfounded. “But the trade negotiations—as heir, I should be there!” he protests.

“Kíli will take notes for you. Mahal knows he needs to pay more attention during these meetings anyway.”

“But–”

Thorin silences him with a hand on his shoulder. It’s not Thorin, King Under the Mountain, looking down at him, or Thorin Oakenshield, the warrior.

It’s Uncle Thorin. The dwarf who raised him, who held him as a child when he cried, who sang lullabies to him when he thought no one else was listening. The softer Thorin.

“Fíli, make peace with your wife.” Thorin squeezes Fíli’s shoulder and takes his leave.

Fíli watches the heavy, wooden doors shut with a thud, as if waiting for Thorin to change his mind. To return, to berate him for how he treated his One.

But the doors remain closed. There will be no reprieve for Fíli, nothing to stall him before he has to face what he did. He says a silent prayer as he stands and trudges to Thorin’s chambers. As he reaches a hand out to the door, he freezes. Dread of what awaits him keeps him rooted in place.

Don’t be ridiculous, Fíli scolds himself, shaking his head sharply. It’s just Y/N. Nothing to be afraid of.

He knocks first, but receives no reply. With a deep breath, he carefully pushes the door open. His eyes scan the dimly lit room, finding no sign of you at first. Then, movement in a wingback chair facing the fireplace catches his eye.

Fíli takes a cautious step forward. “Amrâlimê?”

You don’t respond to the endearment.

He changes tactics. “Y/N? Can we talk?”

You poke your head around the side of the chair for a second before turning back and burrowing further into the cushions. “Go away,” you mumble, pulling the blanket tightly around you. While Fíli’s frustration had softened over the sleepless night, your surprise and hurt had hardened into bitter anger.

“Y/N,” Fíli closes the distance. He traces his fingers along the chair’s arm. “Please.”

“Go away!” you snap again. You press your face into the opposite arm of the chair and cover your head with the blanket. It’s petulant, you know that, but you don’t care. Maybe it will soothe your pounding headache.

“No, my love,” he says gently, but firmly. “We need to talk.” Fíli settles on his knees so he’s level with you and pulls the blanket off of your head.

You scowl at him, but with his careful, honest eyes searching your own, you can’t hold it long. Your gaze drops to your hands, clutching the blanket tightly. “Still?” you ask at last, voice soft.

“Still what?”

“I’m still your love?”

Fíli gently pries your fingers apart until he can hold them, rubbing them to coax warmth into your cold hands. “Always,” he murmurs. “You will always be my love.”

Hot tears fill your eyes. “Then why’d you have to get mad at me?” You try to pull your hands away, but he squeezes them tighter.

“Oh, no, no, amrâlimê, I was not angry with you.” He reaches up to brush strands of hair away from your face.

Your glare tells him you don’t believe him.

“I was not angry,” Fíli insists. “I was…” He shakes his head while he gathers the right words. “May I speak plainly? Without upsetting you.”

You look at him warily, but give him a tiny nod.

Fíli brings his hand back to your hair, smoothing your marriage braid with his thumb. “I am afraid,” he whispers. “I am afraid that I’m losing you. I am afraid that you have gone somewhere that I cannot follow.”

The tears finally spill over your cheeks. The walls of anger you’ve hidden behind crumble, and you wrap your arms around Fíli. You bury your face in his neck and cry. Your hands claw at his back, desperately searching for purchase.

Fíli immediately pulls you from the chair and into his lap on the floor. “Oh, Y/N.” He kisses the top of your head, patiently waiting for you to find your words again.

“I want to remember,” you sob. “I want to love you the same way you love me. I want what we had. I don’t know what we had but I want it back!”

Fíli hugs you tighter as your chest heaves and breath shakes.

For the first time, you don’t recoil from his touch. You need to feel him. Soft skin over hard muscle, coated in gold curls. The weight of his chin on your head. Every inch of him warming you.

You sniff. “Has it been good?”

“Hm?”

“Our life together.“

Fíli lifts his chin from your head and loosens his grip, encouraging you to pull back enough to look at him. “It’s wonderful,” he says. His eyes grow distant with a faint smile. “We both have our duties as the future king and queen, of course, but I treasure every spare moment I get to spend with you.”

The wistful happiness on his face only makes you feel worse. “I’m sorry I took it away,” you whisper.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” Fíli returns to the present, hand rubbing gently up and down your back. “We can start over. You are still you. The brave and clever woman I fell for. My little fighter. And I am still me.” He tilts your chin up and kisses you, quick but soft. “I waited eighty-two years to find you. What’s a little more?”

You shake your head, sending fresh tears spilling over. “It won’t be the same.”

“What if it could be?”

You both jump at the voice. Fíli pulls you back into a tighter hold while his eyes grow darker, scanning the room for threats. The protective lion.

The owner of the voice stands in the doorway, studying you with a careful eye.

“I have an idea,” Tauriel says.

“You cannot seriously be suggesting we take her with us.”

Gandalf leaned back in his chair, puffing at his pipe. “At worst, she makes for an interesting companion. At best, her knowledge of the journey could prove useful.”

“At best, she is a distraction and at worst, a burden,” Thorin retorted. He cast a disdainful look at you, standing in the corner. Bilbo had run out of dining chairs. “The girl’s never touched a sword in her life.”

“Neither has Bilbo,” you muttered.

Kíli snickered.

“Well, I, for one, do not intend on leaving a stranger in my home while I am not here,” Bilbo declared, hands on his hips.

“So you are coming!” Nori exclaimed.

“I never said that!”

“If it’s any consolation,” you interjected, “I’m not exactly thrilled to be here either.” The whole thing was starting to give you a terrible headache as everyone bickered over your presence. Or maybe it was the copious amount of smoke filling the dining room. Either way, you needed out.

“Where do you think you are going?” Thorin demanded as you made for the door. “This is not finished.”

“Somewhere where no one’s blowing smoke in my face,” you snapped. You yanked open the door, barely remembering to duck as you exited. Of course, the awkward height of the doorknob makes it almost impossible to forcefully slam the door behind you, but you did your best.

Some of your frustration melted away as you took in your surroundings. Since you’d just shown up on Bilbo’s doorstep, an overnight bag in hand, you hadn’t gotten the chance to appreciate where you were. It was almost enough to take your breath away. Stars scattered across the sky like tiny diamonds spilled over dark velvet. More stars than you’d seen in your life. Fireflies flitted about the garden, flashing and winking at each other in the night. Small, round windows set into the hills, little puffs of smoke drifting from chimneys nestled in the earth, hobbits settling into their evening routines. You plopped down onto the wooden bench just inside the gate.

The Shire.

Damn it.

Middle Earth.

Damn it.

You put your head in your hands and let out a heavy sigh. You didn’t look up when the door opened and shut again, not until you felt the wood of the bench bend beneath you.

“Care for a smoke?”

Of course it was them. The curious little boys. You lifted your head to see Kíli already lounging next to you, kicking his heavy boots up onto the fence. Fíli sat on your other side, offering you your backpack.

“Didn’t want to go rummaging through your belongings just to find your pipe,” he explained as he tossed it into your lap.

“I don’t have one,” you said.

“Ah, that’s alright. You can borrow mine,” Kíli offered.

The smell of the pipeweed was almost sickening. You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Did you not hear me tell Thorin why I left?”

“Something about smoke?” Kíli puffed out a series of increasingly smaller smoke rings. They vanished in the cool breeze.

“To get away from the smoke. Just… never mind.” You shook your head. “Did Thorin send you to make sure I don’t run away and spill his plans to the world?”

“No,” Fíli said, as Kíli said “yes.”

You just rolled your eyes.

Fíli leaned back, lighting his own pipe. “So,” he said through teeth clenched on the end of his pipe. “Not from around here, eh?”

“That’s one way to put it,” you replied with a shrug. “I guess I should get used to it. To this.” You gestured vaguely towards the rest of the Shire.

“It’s not bad,” Fíli remarked. “Peaceful. Quaint.”

“Boring,” Kíli added.

You groaned, putting your head back in your hands.

“I hope you won’t be sulking like this on the road.” Fíli nudged your side with his elbow. “It’d be a bit of a downer.”

You looked up at the dwarf prince. The stupidly handsome and charming dwarf prince. His stupidly handsome and charming brother. Your stupidly handsome and charming favorite dwarves.

Don’t get attached, warned a voice in the back of your mind. You know what happens.

You tried to shut it up, but it refused to be silent. It all flashed through your head—Fíli falling from the broken tower to the ground in front of his brother. Kíli bleeding out as Tauriel leaned over him. Bilbo crouching at Thorin’s side as the king slipped away.

“It’ll be fun, having a lass along,” Fíli interrupted your train of thought. He leaned his head back and blew out a steady stream of smoke. “We’ll watch out for you, naturally. Keep you out of trouble. We would not want you all battered and bruised by the time we face the dragon.”

“You are way more chill about this than you should be,” you said. Absentmindedly, you fiddled with the zipper on your backpack. “Do you actually understand what you’re supposed to do?”

Kíli stretched his arms over his head. The bench creaked in protest as he shifted his weight. “Sure. Get to the mountain, kill the dragon, get the gold. Simple.”

“If you expect it to be that easy, you’re fucked.”

“Ooh!” Kíli’s eyes lit up. “She’s got a mouth on her—I like that in a girl.” He winked, but his mischievous expression dimmed a little when he looked over at his brother.

Fíli’s brow was furrowed. He tilted his head as he peered at you. “You speak as if you already know our path.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Clearly, they did not listen very closely to the argument between Thorin and Gandalf after you let slip some key information about the quest, things no one else should know. Your gaze fell to your backpack in your lap, not wanting to meet the prince’s eyes. It was far too modern for your rustic setting. It didn’t belong.

And neither did you.

“Because I do,” you admitted at last. “I read the book. I saw the movies. I know how it goes.”

Fíli’s face lit up. “Do we win? I bet it will be a spectacular victory.”

“Not telling.”

“Come on!” Kíli pressed. “Nothing?”

You flashed him a warning glance. “Look, I’m just along for the ride. I’m not here to change things—if Thorin will even let me come. But I doubt it.” You kicked at a pebble beneath your feet, watching it skip out onto the path worn into the hillside from hundreds of carts and hobbit feet. “I seemed to have pissed him off just by existing.”

“Ah, you’ll win him over eventually,” Kíli remarked with a lazy grin. “He’s a softie at heart, really—oh, hello Thorin.”

You held your breath as heavy footsteps tromped down the steps. How long had he been listening?

Thorin crossed his arms and glowered down at you. His eyes then flickered to his nephews, leaning back casually while you sat stiffly between them. “I want the three of you awake before dawn,” he said finally. “We leave at first light to retrieve the ponies.” With one last, wary glance at you, he turned away.

You finished processing his words just as he put his hand on the doorknob. “Three?”

Thorin halted. “Do not make me regret this,” he grunted.

And then he was gone.

Fíli clapped you on the shoulder, almost knocking you off the bench in the process. “Well, you heard him. Up before dawn.”

“I think I’ll stay out just a bit longer.” You relaxed a bit on the bench as the brothers stood.

“Suit yourself,” Fíli shrugged. When he was halfway up the steps, he stopped and turned back around. “You do have a name, right? We can’t just keep calling you ‘lass.’”

“Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, m’lady.” He winked and vanished inside with Kíli.

All the air rushed from your lungs as the door closed, leaving you alone in the garden of Bilbo Baggins. In Hobbiton. The Shire.

You shook your head.

What did you get yourself into?

[erebor-royalty]

Hi there!

I'm Rin, and I am trying to get back into the Hobbit RP!

My pronouns are she/they and I am in my mid-twenties!

I have about a decade of experience in roleplay and I spent a good chunk of that time playing as Kíli and Thorin in a fanfiction dot net forum. Which means, I have less experience playing as Fíli, but since I love him, I would like to try at some point. Some of my time roleplaying as Kíli right here on Tumblr was as Kiliwolfprince so if there's anyone out there from the past who remembers me, hallo!! 💖

I've also some other experience in fandoms apart from the Hobbit playing a bunch of different characters.

I'm open to interactions here on Tumblr, with OCs and CCs alike. I am also open to more extensive roleplay outside of Tumblr, on Discord, if anyone is interested and invested, but that will probably involve more CC/CC interaction, as a heads up.

Personally, I'm a plot heavy pantser, so I'm very prone to making stuff up as we go along. My big rule is that between myself and any RP partner, we *must* ensure that we are both comfortable with the goings on in the RP at every single moment. It is imperative to me that any partner communicate in a direct and respectful manner if we must take a break, change direction or even edit. It all comes down to consent. I am also happy to discuss why I may have made a particular characterization choice.

I am also very big on angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. And I prefer family and friendship based plots as opposed to romance, but I will not shoot you down from the get-go if romance is your thing in RP. The only rule I have is that I will not play past the point of making out. I'm not particularly comfortable with roleplaying smut. I've tried it before, not my thing. But as before, it comes down to consent, and as long as we respect each other's comfort levels and consent, we should be fine.

All that being said, I am also an adult with things to do. I have ADHD, so if I am busy, I may forget that it is my turn to reply. If I am late by at least 24 hours, feel free to shoot me a kind message, because chances are I may have forgotten. Please don't take my lack of replies personally. It is not you, it is just my life and my brain, hehe.

Also please be patient as I set up this blog, it's not going to look amazing from the very beginning, but I'm trying.

With these caveats out of the way, let's begin!

(Also have a tune:)

[i-am-still-bb]

Whumptober 2022 - No. 17 - Breaking Point

Fili/Kili, T

Dead Batteries AU (Tumblr / Ao3)

--

Kili’s roommate was never in their room. Kili went to class, ate breakfast from the cart in the science center, ate dinner in the dining hall, and came back to his room alone. He often did his homework right after class, and got a headstart on the longer running assignments.

He did not have a computer, so he spent a lot of time in computer labs that were mostly empty in the evening. The other students either had their own computers or they had found something better to do than homework and watching documentaries on YouTube on a Friday night.

Kili was not really paying attention to the video playing on the computer screen. His headphones were laying on the table next to the keyboard and he could hear the tinny sound of voices as the screen flashed from image to image.

The computer lab was empty except for a student on the far side who was typing furiously. She had been there when Kili had arrived hours before.

Instead of watching the video Kili was staring at his phone.

He had pulled up his conversation with Fili. The last message had been sent weeks ago before Kili had even left. It was a single letter.

July 29, 20—

// K. //

Kili’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but he typed nothing.

If he scrolled back a few pages he knew he would find their texts from May—teasing, loving, and just talking to each other—from before Kili said he was leaving.

Fili had left that night and Kili had not heard from him for a week. Texts and calls had gone unanswered. Fili had avoided him at graduation and he was never home or in the shed when Kili drove by.

When he finally saw Fili after that, they fought. Fili had said that they would not be seeing each other again in 2 months so they might as well start now. Fili had said that he did not want to see Kili.

They had seen each other; their town was not that large that they could avoid each other.

Fili had shaved his head. And he smiled a lot less.

Kili had texted to let Fili know when he was leaving. He had hoped they would part on better terms. Or least terms that did not make Kili dread going home for the holiday breaks. The dorms closed for Thanksgiving, and instead of going home or getting wrangled into someone else’s family event Kili had booked a hotel room for those four nights with his quickly dwindling savings.

Kili logged out and stuffed his headphones into a pocket. It was cold outside the building, but Kili sat down on the steps. The university’s lamps created a warm glow that ended at the edge of campus.

Kili pulled out his phone again and before he could talk himself out of it—”It’s almost midnight.” “He won’t want to talk to me.” “I’ll call tomorrow… next week… after finals… when I’m home.”—he dialled Fili’s number.

When the phone rang for the fifth time Kili resigned himself to the call not being answered. It still stung even when he was expecting it.

But the sixth ring doesn’t come.

“What do you want?”

“Fili?”

A huff of exhaled breath. “Who else would it be.”

Kili did not say anything. He had not expected to have to say anything, so he had nothing planned.

“Hello?” Fili’s voice was dark with irritation.

It was rough in the way it was after Fili had been smoking. The staticy sound of loud music comes through the speaker. Kili knew where Fili was. He could see it perfectly if he closed his eyes. The adults would be playing poker, drinking, and smoking, while the teenagers pretended not to drink and play-acted at adulthood until they all ended up in the rec room watching whatever old movies that Dwalin, Thorin, and the others kept at the club house.

A muttered, “Fucking Christ,” interrupted Kili’s thoughts. And then the sound of voices and music cut off. A rustle of fabric and a muffled slam. “What do you want, Kili.”

“I…” Kili dropped his head to his knees and fought back frustrated tears. “I’m sorry, Fee. I fucked up. I—”

“When has ‘sorry’ ever fixed anything?” Fili snapped.

Kili groaned. “Fili—”

“What.”

Kili curled tighter, his free hand gripping his hair. “I miss you. I should never have come here.” Hot tears streamed down his cheeks where they were instantly chilled by the lake breeze.

There was silence on the other end.

“Fili?”

Kili pulled his phone away from his ear to see the screen.

Fili had ended the call.

“Fuck.” Kili buried his face in his arms and sat there for a long time. By the time he moved again his tears were dry and he could barely feel his fingers or his ass because of the cold.

He opened Fili’s message thread. Slowly he typed out, “I’m sorry.” Hit send. Then he opened the ‘Options’ for the thread. He scrolled to the very last option. He hesitated and then hit okay.

/ Are you sure you want to delete all messages? This cannot be undone. /

Kili hit okay again.

And all the messages were gone.

But he did not feel better.

He felt like his chest was in a vice.

He stayed there until he could not feel his fingers. His numb hands could barely unlock his dorm room door. It was empty.

He was alone.

He crawled into bed with his clothes on. And desperately tried not to think about how just about a year ago he had woken up in Fili’s bed after that fight with his dad. He had felt safe, warm, and loved. And now it was all ruined.

[ichoosechoasandbeingqueer]

I need a comfort game set in Erebor after the battle of the five armies where everyone survived, you play as Bilbo or maybe as a hobbit that has come to help Bilbo and the whole point of the game is to help regrow the mountain.

Like, you have to find rooms in the mountain with the best sunlight or rooms you can put in windows. You have to find which plants grow best where and can choose to put in garden beds in the balconies. You can add big trees outside where Smaug destroyed and put veggie and medical flower gardens inside, a special garden to attract Beorns bees ect. All the while you can interact with dwarves that wonder in to see what your doing and every now and again Thorin comes to check up on you or maybe Fili and Kili come to pull a prank or help you to get out of their royal meetings. The better your gardens, the more dwarves come to see and interact each with their own craft skill that you can work with to improve your gardens more. For example if a dwarf that can smith likes your garden and talks with you a lot they might offer to craft you new metal gardening tools or if they work with glass they can make you a stained glass window with deco that will still let in the sun. Stone workers can craft you beautiful pillars or raised garden beds ect.

I just need this to be a thing…

[helie-brain]

The Hobbit Trilogy

I recently watched the Hobbit Trilogy and I REALLY LIKED it. Not as much as I like the LOTR trilogy though. I know that A LOT of people don’t like the trilogy, hate it even. Whether it is due to length, the side plots, the CGI, the dwarves, or other reasons. And yes I know that it’s not perfect or amazing (especially when compared to the LOTR). But there are some aspects that make the movies a fun/great/enjoyable movie to watch. 

The trilogy gives the dwarves more depth. As stated before, I love the LOTR and think they are outstanding movies, but it centers a lot on hobbits, humans and elves. The dwarf is only used for comedic relief that has to constantly be saved. And I understand that the Hobbit is about the journey to a dwarven kingdom and that the LOTR is about the journey to destroy the ring. But we spend a lot of time in Elven kingdoms, Elvish is spoken quite a bit while Dwarvish is only mentioned once (even Black speech is spoken more than Dwarvish). Elves are also seen as the elite spices while dwarves are only spoken negatively by other species. In the Hobbit; yes the dwarves are funny and need saving but they are also very family oriented, musical (singing at meals), smart (Ballin convincing Bard), loyal (never turning from their kin), majestic (Thorin), protective (always looking out for each member), kind (cleaning Bilbo’s plates), determined (never changing their goal no matter the danger despite their size), great fighter (the way the use weapons and fight for their size). And although not all the dwarves were given time to show their personality, the band of dwarves gave off a brotherhood feel to them.

It provided great character development, for the main characters. Again the LOTR was amazing; the sets, the music, the fight scenes the characters. But there was no real character development except for three hobbits; merry (doesn’t care attitude to wanting to fight), Pippen (jokester to serious) and Sam (scared to one of the bravest).  The rest mainly stayed the same; Gandalf is wise, Aragorn is moral, Legolas is cool, Gimli is funny.  In the Hobbit Bilbo starts off as a man who wants to stay home and not do much, nothing to do with the dwarves. Through out the movie he warms up to them and risks his life to save them, and at the end welcomes them warmly to his home. Thorin starts off with this need to return home and get this gold for his people, not caring much for anyone else besides his kin. Throughout the movie is listens more to others and cares a bit more (looks out for Bilbo, helps fight the orc with Legolas). Once he gets what he wants he is more obsessed with the gold than his kin. But after seeing what he has become he realizes that his people are what matters not a destroyed city. Gandalf becomes more wary of things, people around him. Dwalin, who was the most loyal and listened to Thorin the most took a stand against him when he changed. Legolas opens up more and more defiant (and a bit more of a personality than in LOTR, come on I like Legolas but like he hardly talked and was only used as Mr. Fix it), than at the start of the trilogy.  Even Thranduil opens up to the problem to the world and to other species (men and hobbits). Tauriel is also given some character development; she starts off as this naïve elf who wants to save everyone to this broken lost person.  

The songs, though few are great. It shows a contrast to the elf songs in LOTR that were very choir like while the dwarfs are more boisterous. It showed aspects of the dwarf culture; that song was their way of telling stories, getting things done, or how they have meals. Like in the first movie the dwarves sing three songs, two were right on the spot songs around meal time. You can just imagine a group of dwarves singing through the great halls of their kingdoms or while they are mining (haha like the dwarves in Snow white haha). Not to mention they, the songs, are memorable, especially the misty mountain song. Man that was a good song, very ominous and emotional. You can feel the importance of it weighing down on you. And it is sang beautifully by Richard Armitage. 

The female character that was not forced. Yes I know the love triangle was stupid and horribly done and I hate it as well moving on. I just like the character of Tauriel and that the fact that she is a woman is never in the foreground or used as a “strong independent female character” kind of thing. She is strong experienced fighter. But she is not independent; Thranduil raised her and Legolas is always at her side. I like that unlike the other elves she is curious about the world beyond their boarder. I also like that she wants to help others, probably due to the fact that her parents were killed and she was helped by the woodland elves and therefor does not want others to suffer lose like she has. I love the fact that she is not a better fighter than Legolas or show off or that she is over powered (like other female elves cough Gauladriel in Rings of Power). She still has qualities that we associate with female; a healer, emotional, quiet (a listener). I think that the relationship between her and Thranduil is really well done, very much like a daughter and father; fighting about their beliefs but in the end coming to a sort of understanding. 

Smaug was just amazing. I don’t know much about CGI, but I think they did a pretty good job with it in terms of Smaug. Speaking of CGI, they did a really good job when it came to the dwarves and showing how small they were compared to humans and or elves. Yes the CGI does flop in other parts of the movie (especially the barrel scene). Benedict Cumberbatch was a perfect choice to voice him. He sounded to grand and threatening at times. I also liked how the used Smaug even after he died when Thorin was falling victim to the dragon sickness. It shows that the dragon wasn’t the true antagonist but the greed and the gold was. 

The fight scenes were really good. Not all of them and may be not to the extent of LOTR, but still very fun to watch. It showed how people as small as dwarves fought as a unit. All the flashback fighting scenes were beautifully done to show the magnitude of it in terms of the dwarf history. Even the barrel scene was a good fighting scene. It really showed the abilities of the woodland elves, more specifically Legolas. The battle of the five armies was, in my opinion, very well put together. It should the different fighting styles of the species; the dwarves were better in close proximity fights and just went in for the blow. The elves were better in long distant fighting and were calculated, the humans were versatile and used their surroundings to fight. The weapons were interesting in terms of their design. It was very evident which weapons were made by dwarves and which were made by elves. 

Again I understand why people hate it, and that there is no convincing people. I just wanted to share what I like about one of my comfort movies. But in all honesty, it is not as bad as the Rings of Power. At least the Hobbit closer  connected in terms of the books and the lore.