#hobbit drabble

[cosmic-glow]

Notes: When crossing a bridge on Halloween night (Samhain) you meet a mysterious knight, does this remind you of any legend?

Warnings: Fíli x fem!reader; reader eats meat and drinks wine; persecution; SFW.

The icy wind forced you to bend down and hold on tighter to the cloak that covered you, your horse was already tired from the long journey, but even though the sun had long since set you couldn't stop, it was Samhain night, you had to get home. Further on, even though your eyes were begging for rest, you could see a faint bluish glow and you were right to assume it was a lake. Arriving at the water's edge, you stopped so that your horse could have a drink and took the opportunity to refill your canteen too.

As you searched through your bag for something to eat, believing it would give you the energy to stay awake for a few more hours, a sound of something moving among the leaves came towards you and suddenly stopped. Without delay, you climbed back onto your horse, which was now alert too. "Who's there?" you asked into the shadows of the night, bow in hand, ready to fire an arrow. With a quick movement and a sound as subtle as a mouse, something approached from your right, but your ears didn't fail and you unhesitatingly shot in the direction, hitting a large black wolf that cried out in pain before being seized by hatred. But you didn't give him a chance, already pulling on the reins to take your horse in a new direction, then starting a chase.

At first it was just one wolf, but after its painful howl, several joined it, hunting you. It didn't matter which direction you were going anymore, you just needed to escape them, lose them. You went down an old road and crossed a bridge that creaked with the horse gallop, only to come to the end and come face to face with a forest too thick for your horse to pass through. He stopped and skidded before raising his paws in fear of hitting the trees and knocking you down. Your back hurt and your head was spinning when you managed to get up, still in time to see him run away at a fast gallop that mixed with the sounds of the wolves approaching, thirsty, you knew you would never be able to run faster than them.

Before you could hide or think of any plans, you saw the black cloud they were forming cross the bridge, its white teeth gleaming at you. And when all seemed lost and you had accepted that there, on that cold October night, would be your end, a rider appeared. His horse was as black as the sky that covered you, he wore a long cloak, wielded a long bronze sword, from where you stood you couldn't see his face, but his hair looked like the first rays of the morning sun. Bravely he stunned and wounded the pack single-handedly, you were so surprised that you didn't even think to draw your bow and react, it didn't take long for the pack to flee, and when the last wolf crossed the old bridge he leaned forward, still with his back to you, and sheathed his sword. When he stood up straight again, his blond curls spread out over his long cloak, and he turned his face to look at you over his shoulder.

As he pulled the horse's reins to look you in the face, you stood up and adjusted yourself as best you could to make yourself presentable. He was a short man with great presence, furrowed eyebrows and shrewd eyes analyzing you, he had a long nose that ended in a braided mustache and a blonde beard. His clothes were beautiful and yours were dirty, you were about to say thank you when he spoke earlier.

- A maiden shouldn't walk alone on Samhain night, she'll end up getting hurt - he had a smug smile on his lips and now it was yours eyebrows that were furrowed.

- Excuse me? But I was perfectly fine and could have managed on my own, I don't remember asking for help from any flirt.

- What a sharp tongue you have, you should be more careful with what you say, you never know who you might end up offending - his look seemed curious, almost as if he was having fun with the situation.

- You're full of "shoulds", aren't you? If it's so dangerous "shouldn't" I know your name?

The blonde man remained silent for a while, analyzing the situation and thinking about whether he should really tell you his name, or better yet, reveal who he really was.

- I am Fíli, son of Dís, daughter of Thráin. And I wasn't lying when said it's dangerous to be alone in the woods at night. Much more on this particular night. Without further intrigue, allow me to take you to a safer place - he extended his hand to you, a new look on his face, sincere and welcoming.

You looked away from him to the bridge for a moment, remembering how close the wolves were before he arrived, how close you were to death. Turning away from this distressing thought, you accepted his hand, it was definitely not today that you would accept your death. With a strong tug he helped you onto the horse, you sitting right behind. When the animal started to run, you were forced to hug Fíli's waist to stop yourself from falling. As they rode away, you remembered how, before the man turned to face you, even as he fight, you couldn't see his head, only his hair, which now, when you thought about it, without the fear blurring your vision, looked very much like living flames - was your imagination playing tricks on you?

The knight took you to an old castle, it looked abandoned. He stopped and helped you get off the horse. You doubted he really lived there, branches had already grown around the towers, the stones on the walls were dirty with age and the windows were dark. The big door creaked open, and magically the torches in the hallway lit up, you don't know how but you didn't ask.

- You live here? - asked, looking at the grandeur of the place.

- Since I was a child. I'm sorry about the dust, I can't always clean everything myself - he takes off his cape and hangs it on the coat rack at the entrance.

- Only you live here?

- Yes, everyone left after... - he was silent - ... You must be hungry, come - he smiled at you and continued on.

Fíli guided you through the corridors to a large dining room with a table just as long. At the end, there was a hearty dinner set out for the two of you.

- Were you expecting a visitor? - you said, taking the second glass.

- Maybe I went out looking for one - he pulled out the chair for you and smiled.

Only when the cooked meat touched your tongue and the seasoning invaded your mouth did you realize how hungry you were. Without paying attention, you ended up exaggerating the amount of wine you drank and soon the alcohol started to go to your head.

- It was good? - Fíli asked when you finished.

- Very good - you smiled and suddenly remembered how rude you had been to the man who saved your life - Thank you very much for all this, you don't even know me and are helping, I'm sorry for being so rude to you.

- Don't worry about it, I would also have responded that way to a strange man on a horse in the middle of the night - he laughed - And I think it doesn't matter if I know you or not, it's Samhain night, there has to be at least one date in the year to be kind without future interests, right?

-I think so...- your eyes became heavy, you leaned on the chair, the tiredness from before returning even stronger.

When you almost slipped out of the chair in your sleep, Fíli caught you, carefully lifting you up, "come on, I'll take you to your room" he said before leading you down more hallways and stairs. The mattress on the bed was soft and the covers were heavy, that was all you could say about your room as your eyes were practically closed when you entered, the blonde helping you lay down and cover you up.

- Good night, Y/n - he said, but you didn't remember telling him your name, but you didn't question it because you were already falling into a deep sleep.

The next morning, you woke up in a silent castle, sunlight shyly coming through the window to illuminate the room. You walked down the steps with light steps, there were no more candles lit and everything seemed more abandoned than last night. You looked between the doors as you passed through the hallways, but they were all filled with just furniture and nothing else except some cobwebs, where was Fíli? When reached the entrance hall you looked back, waited for a moment for any sound that would indicate the presence of anyone else in the house, but nothing.

- Fili? - you called, but no one answered.

Before leaving you noticed a painting at the entrance that you had not paid attention to last night, the painting was torn, but when you stretched it again and completed the image you found those beautiful shining eyes, in the frame of the painting there was a small golden plaque that "Fíli" was engraved and next to it was the year of birth... And the year of death. You walked away and took your breath away, he had died decades ago, how was it possible that you had seen him yesterday? Having spoken to him, touched him and felt him, how?

Without further ado, you left the house and had another shock when you found your horse that had escaped, standing outside, waiting for you calmly while was grazing. You looked once more at the castle behind you and you could have sworn you saw a curtain move. You wouldn't forget that Samhain night so easily.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

October Calendar;

Masterlist

[entishramblings]

Haunting Me

[Legolas/F!Reader]

A.N: I have been struggling to write (like usual), so I figured I would whip out a no pressure Legolas fic. ANYWAYS, I strangely loved writing this!!! Thanks for the request XOXO

Request: @goose-gremlin — “Could you maybe do a Legolas x Reader on their period?”

Pairing: Legolas X Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader is a member of Greenwood's Guard and is struggling with menstrual/period pain. Legolas takes care of her.

Disclaimer: I don't know elvish. I use the gracious elvish dictionary. Sue me lol

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: blood, menstruation/period, pain, PMS, slight nakedness (not anything spicy you filthy fools), fluff, sweet precious elf boy

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

(Y/N)’s nose twitched, the pungent, musty scent of the incoming vile beasts invaded the fresh earthy tones of the Greenwood forest. Her keen ears picked up on subtle scurrying, the sound carried by the drift of the soft wind. Her jaw clenched and her fingers adjusted the grasp of her sword as she felt the aura of the trees shift—a surge of adrenaline fueling her anxiety, worsening the pain in her abdomen. Briefly locking eyes with the other elves in her sector, spread among the trees alert and ready, she knew their moment of action was imminent.

(Y/N) summoned the little energy she had through a deep inhale, praying to the Valar that these spiders wouldn't be in such a frenzied state. Because, if so, fuck that. For at the present moment in time, she really didn't have the capacity to deal with that absolute, motherfucking horseshit.

Because, truly, getting killed due to slowness from fatigue and cramps from one’s bloodmoon cycle would be rather unfortunate and deeply regrettable. However, facing expulsion from the guard and losing her reputation as one of the hand-picked defenders of the royal line because of it would be even worse.

(Y/N)’s gaze narrowed as Prince Legolas, leader of the Greenwood Guard, raised a closed fist.

Nêl (Three).

Tâd (Two).

Mîn (One).

He opened his palm, signaling the command: Kill them. Kill them all.

With a firm thud, (Y/N)'s boots landed on the soft soil as she sprung from the trees. She was quick with her blade, hunting the spiders as if they were meaningless prey. Her weapon was an extension of her form. Every movement was fluid and graceful, a testament to her mastery of combat. Despite her pain, she spun and twisted with ease, severing the arachnids' limbs effortlessly.

As she fought, she made sure to keep an eye on the Prince, knowing that if anything were to happen to Legolas under her watch, the king would surely banish her. Besides, she harbored no desire for him to meet his demise. She found him rather…admirable. Nothing more than that—of course not.

As (Y/N) advanced upon one of the vile beasts, her senses tingled with warning. Abruptly, she halted in her tracks, narrowly dodging an arrow that whizzed past her stomach. Her eyes narrowed as she wiped her head to see just who fired that arrow. A scoff escaped her lips as she locked eyes with him: Rekón.

When the battle came to an end, (Y/N) strutted towards Rekón, who was wiping the edge of his blade upon his thigh.

“What the hell was that out there?!” She snapped at him.

“What is it you speak of?”

“You nearly put an arrow in me!”

He shrugged. “Perhaps, you should have been faster, Shadowfoot.”

She scoffed at Greenwood’s nickname for her. “You're lucky I am fast. I can assume you don’t want elven blood on your hands—especially my blood.

He sheathed his blade and crossed his arms. “Don’t exaggerate, (Y/N). It’s unbecoming. Besides,” he leaned in and his voice lowered, taking on a snarky tone, “I don't care if you're handpicked by the King to be the Prince’s shadow, you're a pain in the ass.”

“Really, Otuuk Fe`Saign (warg kisser)?! I could have you and your ass in the mud faster than you could say—”

The rather tense interaction was interrupted by Legolas clearing his throat beside the pair. “What is going on over here?” he demanded.

(Y/N) huffed, not taking her eyes off the man before her. “Rekón here nearly redecorated my abdomen with a fucking arrow!”

The Prince sighed. “You know we can’t always calculate every motion on the battlefield, (Y/N). I am sure Rekón meant no harm.” He paused, turning his attention to the ellon. “Rekón, in the future, mind your arrows.”

“That’s the reprimand he gets?! Are you fu—“

Legolas looked at the elleth. “Watch your language, Shadowfoot. I expect this attitude to be gone by the time we enter my father’s halls.”

With that, Legolas walked away, calling out orders to burn the spider carcasses and move out.

As he disappeared into the mess of elves, (Y/N)’s brows pulled downward in a grumpy frown. “Princeling Ass,” she murmured to herself.

Unbeknownst to her, as she turned away, Legolas' gaze followed her, seeking out her form and lingering as she walked away.

….

The sun had not yet risen when the Prince’s sector of the Greenwood Guard arrived back in the Palace. The warriors dispersed into the armory, diligently stowing their weapons and armor in their designated places. (Y/N), however, did no such thing. Instead, with a persistent scowl etched on her face, she marched through the room and passed through the arched exit of the armory—presumably heading towards her chambers. Legolas's gaze tracked her suspiciously as she departed.

As the day progressed, the members of the Prince’s sector resumed their usual routines. Because it was their first day back from patrol, they were exempt from basic guard duties and standard positions. Instead, they utilized the early hours of the morning to bathe and rejuvenate themselves before gathering in the dining hall for breakfast. The remainder of the day was theirs to unwind and compile their patrol reports—the King sought to stay informed about all occurrences and perspectives during patrols, for a darkness seemed to be spreading among his trees.

At supper, Legolas moved among the tables in the dining hall, gathering last-minute reports from the warriors in his sector. As he did so, he scanned the long wooden benches, searching for the scowling gaze that had accompanied the last couple of days of patrol; however, there was no such gaze and no such person that it belonged to. Simply put, there was no sign of (Y/N).

She had missed all three meals and had failed to submit her patrol report.

Legolas cleared his throat before he addressed the elves from whom he was collecting papers. “Have you seen Shadowfoot? I need her report,” he inquired.

They shook their heads, more interested in their food than one missing shadow.

Legolas sighed, but refrained from pressing further. If anyone knew her whereabouts, they would have mentioned it.

Therefore, he made his way to her quarters.

When he arrived, he knocked softly on the door, but was met with silence.

"(Y/N)," he called out, his voice carrying through the wooden barrier.

Still, there was no response.

After a moment’s hesitation, Legolas reached for the door knob and twisted it slowly. The wood swung open quietly under his touch, exposing the darkness of the room beyond. Moonlight filtered in through the opened window, casting shadows that danced across the floor, the curtains billowing gently in the cold night air.

Legolas carefully stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him. As he took in his surroundings further, surprise crossed his features. He didn't know what he had been expecting since he hadn't been in (Y/N)’s quarters, but it most certainly was not this.

The room was a complete mess. Clothing lay strewn about, along with various trinkets—small hand-carved boxes, beautiful natural rocks, and melted candles absent of flame. Several stacks of books were piled beside the bed, a few of them open and their pages still. Her weapons were scattered haphazardly, some resting on the floor, others on the table or atop the dresser. Legolas even noticed a few knives embedded into the wooden door—a sight that would surely displease Ada.

It was chaotic but calm in a sort of strange way. Typical for (Y/N), he supposed.

The Prince moved to walk further into the room, but was quickly halted against his will. His foot had gotten caught and, if it wasn't for his swift reflexes, he would have face-planted upon the stone flooring.

Legolas sucked in a sharp breath as he stabilized his form. Glancing down, he discovered the culprit—a crumpled tunic tangled around his boot, its fabric caught between the lacings.

He immediately sighed in dismay.

The blond-haired Prince reached down to untangle the stubborn garment. It proved to be a more challenging task than he had anticipated, requiring a few moments of quiet curses and annoyed grunts before he managed to free himself. Carefully, he folded the fabric and placed it upon a nearby chair.

Cautiously, he advanced to the large bed. At first, he could not spot the warrior within, given that the fluffy comforter and mountain of pillows were blocking his view. However, when he pulled back the blankets slightly, sure enough, she was buried deep within. The pillows were arranged around her like a protective nest and she was laying on her side. Her hair was splattered across the cushioned fabric and her expression was…one of pain. Her brows were pulled tight, her nose crinkled, and lips slightly parted.

At this, Legolas frowned, for he was now troubled deeply.

Diligently, the Prince reached out to brush some hair from her face, but just as his fingers made contact with her cheek, his action was interrupted.

(Y/N) suddenly sat up, a knife in hand. With wild eyes, she tried to slam it into his carotid artery.

He reacted quickly, Legolas intercepted her arm, preventing the blade from reaching its target. For a moment, they both froze in that tense position, the gravity of the situation sinking in as they processed what was happening.

(Y/N) was breathing quickly and she appeared very disheveled and confused. It seemed to take her a moment longer to grasp the situation fully.

"Jukkete (fuck)," she breathed out, trying to catch her breath before snapping at him. "Legolas, I almost killed you!"

The Prince still held her wrist. “(Y/N),” he began, “Are you alright?”

She huffed. "You know better than to sneak up on me like that, Princeling!" With a sharp twist, she pulled away from his grasp and settled back into the blankets. “What are you doing here?”

He raised his brows. “Princeling?” he questioned, a hint of amusement in his tone.

(Y/N) only grunted in response.

He sighed. “No one has seen you all day and—“ his sentence abruptly halted as he noticed a red stain upon the comforter. “(Y/N), you are bleeding!” He exclaimed. Without hesitation, he grasped at the blankets, in an attempt to detangle her form from them, as he continued his babbling of concern. “Why didn’t you tell me you were injured on patrol?!”

“Legolas,” she interrupted, her voice firm.

“Is it from Rekón’s arrow?! I thought you said he ‘nearly’ hit you?”

“Legolas,” she tried again.

He yanked the blanket further.” Because I swear to the Valar if it was from him, I will—“

“Legolas! Stop!” She snapped, her patience wearing thin. “I’m not injured.”

His jaw clenched in frustration. “(Y/N), I have been a warrior for all my life, I know the site of blood. That is blood. You cannot lie to me. I am your sector leader, your Prince—“

“Legolas! It’s my bloodmoon cycle!” she interrupted, sitting up to glare at him once more.

An awkward silence settled into the dark room.

“You are in pain,” he stated.

“I’m fine.”

His brows raised again. “Now, why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you're a princeling ass,” she retorted.

“No. Because for the last three days of patrol, your demeanor has been notably irritable, as you are now. You've been favoring your left side, your jaw has remained tightly clenched, and your skin a shade too pale. Not to mention, you've consistently had your hand on your hip, I'm assuming in an attempt to try and alleviate discomfort, and you even vomited behind a tree on two occasions. And, here you are, Shadowfoot, in bed, sleeping the day away in dirty clothes and not caring that you lay in blood.” He paused before finalizing his evidence. “You are in pain.”

“You have been spying on me?! I am supposed to be your shadow.”

“I have been keeping an eye on you,” he clarified.

“Why?!”

The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Because you are a member of my sector. You are my responsibility.”

“You are my responsibility,” she corrected.

He released hot air from his nose. “I am required to keep an eye on all of my warriors, whether they were hand-picked to guard me or not.”

(Y/N) huffed, shaking her head. “Did you know Sethna took a pretty nasty hit to her leg?”

“Don’t try to change the subject,” he gruffed.

“Legolas, did you know about it or not?”

A rather long moment of silence extended into the night before the Prince reluctantly responded in a low tone. “No.”

“Then you don't watch every warrior like you watch me.”

He inhaled slowly, trying to steer the conversation away from what (Y/N) was insinuating. “Is Sethna alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine.”

Legolas nodded slowly, before returning to the main topic. “Why didn't you tell me you were in pain while on patrol?”

She rolled her eyes before muttering his name. “Legolas.”

“Why haven't you seen a healer?” he persisted.

She exhaled slowly, knowing Legolas wasn't going to let this go. “Because the healers document everything, and those records get attached to evaluations.”

“So?”

“So, I would be dismissed from the guard and relieved of my position!” she snapped.

He snorted lightly. “You would not be dismissed from the guard nor relieved of your position.”

“Others have gotten so for far less!”

Surprising her, his normally collected tone turned into a rough reply. “That doesn't mean that you would have!”

She frowned, her once loud voice now subdued. “What's that supposed to mean?”

He sent her a warning look, his eyes cautioning her against probing further.

Silence reigned for a third time that night before Legolas spoke softly. “Rest. I will draw you a bath.”

“Princeling, I do not need you to draw me a bath. I do not need a bath at all. Like I said, I am fine.”

He shook his head. “You are in pain. Let me help you.”

“Legolas–”

He cut her off. “(Y/N), do not try to argue with me on this. That is an order. Shadow or not, I am your superior and you will listen.”

With that, he stood and made his way into the bathing chambers, leaving the elleth alone with her thoughts.

She let out a slow, contemplative exhale before sinking back into the embrace of the bed once more. Lost in a haze of exhaustion, she must have drifted into a brief slumber, for it was only moments later that Legolas returned, his thumb brushing against her cheek. His voice, barely above a whisper, reached her ears. “(Y/N),” he urged softly. “Come. The water is hot. It will alleviate your pain.”

Groggily, she opened her eyes, confusion evident in the furrow of her brow.

“Come,” he repeated.

Gradually, she sat upwards, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the mattress. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, praying to the Valar for the pain to settle.

“If the pain is too much, I can carry you,” Legolas offered in a gentle tone.

She scoffed, her eyes opening to glare at him. “I can manage on my own.”

With that declaration, (Y/N) stood up and took a few cautious steps forward. But before she could proceed further, a sharp gasp escaped her lips as the agony surged through her body, causing her to double over.

A comforting warmth enveloped her lower back as Legolas placed a reassuring hand there. He remained silent, respecting her pace and refraining from pressing his earlier offer.

A small whimper escaped her lips, tears threatening to escape from her eyes.

Legolas’ hand began to move in soft circles. “It will pass, Shadowfoot. I am here,” he whispered.

Slowly, she resumed her movement, inching her way towards the bathroom. Upon reaching the basin's edge, she gripped onto the sides tightly. She squeezed her lids shut once more, focusing on her breath.

Standing only inches behind her, Legolas spoke softly. “(Y/N), please, will you let me assist you? I hate to see you suffer.”

She exhaled through her nose, seemingly debating his offer. After a moment of contemplation, she relented. “Fine,” she stated, “but if you breathe a word of this—”

“I will not say a thing. I swear it,” he assured.

She nodded, accepting his promise.

“Let's get you undressed and in the bath then.”

With caution, his nimble fingers found the hem of her tunic and began to lift it over her head. Ensuring her stability by placing one hand gently on her hip, he then carefully guided her trousers downward, assisting her as she stepped out of them. Shaking slightly, she lifted each foot into the tub, one at a time, as the Prince's firm hand remained securely on her waist. Slowly, she lowered herself into the water, his touch barely trailing up her back as she descended. Her eyes closed and a sigh of relief escaped her lips, settling into the soothing heat of the water.

Legolas cleared his throat awkwardly. “I will just be in the other room. Call out if you need me.”

She simply hummed in response.

The Prince swiftly left the bathing room, making his way to the door leading to the hallway. Peering out, he caught sight of a maid. He called out to her and motioned for her to approach.

“Yes, my lord?” she inquired politely.

“I need you to fetch a new set of bedding and obtain the following herbs: valerian, boswellia, and athelas,” he instructed.

She nodded in understanding.

“And please, keep it discreet. I have an injured warrior in here who wishes for the injury to remain quiet.”

The maid nodded once more before hurrying off to fulfill his requests.

Legolas returned to the room, feeling the cool breeze from the open window once more. With determined strides, he crossed the space and closed it firmly, halting the chill from entering any longer. He then took to light some of the candles, casting a warm glow within the room before moving to the empty fireplace. He quickly grabbed kindling and wood from the basket beside the silent hearth, setting to task. Before long, the flames crackled loudly among the stone, radiating a comforting warmth that dispelled the lingering chill.

It was then when the maid entered, a large basket brimming with fluffy fabric in her arms. Placing it beside the bed, she then retrieved a pouch from the top. Approaching the Prince, she bowed her head. “The herbs you asked for, my lord.”

“Thank you,” he replied, accepting them graciously.

The maid took to changing the sheets, making no mention of the blood. Legolas cleared a space upon the table in (Y/N)’s room. Placing a cast iron pot—one of which was kept in each room—over the now vibrant flames, he filled it with water from a pitcher. As the water began to boil, he used a small bowl to grind the fresh herbs into a paste with a pestle. Once sufficiently smashed, he ladled some of the boiling water over it and allowed the mixture of herbs to steep, filling the air with its earthy aroma.

The maid, having finished her task of making the bed and straightening up, bid an awkward farewell to the Prince before exiting the room.

Legolas sighed, taking a seat in the chair beside the table, his ears attuned to any sounds from (Y/N)'s direction—just in case.

Nearly 45 minutes passed before she emerged from the bathroom. She was clothed in soft trousers and a loose top that hung off her shoulder, her hand pressed lightly against her abdomen.

“How do you feel?” he inquired, breaking the quietness of the night.

She turned her head towards him. “You are still here?” Her gaze swept across the room, trailing off as she took in the sight of the lit candles, crackling fire, and fresh bedding.

Abandoning the chair, he approached her and gently put his hand upon her bicep. “How is the pain, (Y/N)?”

As if suddenly drawn from her thoughts, she registered that he was indeed beside her. “I, uh, it has lessened a bit.”

He nodded, guiding her to the bed. Pulling back the clean sheets, he motioned for her to get in. Surprisingly, she complied, settling into the comfort of the fresh lavender scent emanating from the blankets and pillows.

Legolas briefly left her side before returning with a cup of tea, mixed from the healing herbs. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he lifted the cup to her lips, encouraging her to take a sip. “Drink this. It will help.”

The steam kissed her face as she took the cup from him. As she drank, the warm liquid flowed down her throat and into her stomach, providing instant comfort. When she finished, she passed the cup back to him. “How do you know how to make such a tonic?”

The Prince placed the cup upon the side table. “My father used to care for my mother during her bloodmoon cycle, before she passed from this world. She too had excruciating pain. He taught me the right herbs to mix, the benefits of heat, and—” he paused, his hand moving to her lower back, where he began to massage lightly. “—what points to press to alleviate pain.”

She exhaled slowly, letting her eyes flutter closed.

“He had said, ‘One day, you will have a wife who too suffers such pain. This you must learn for her.’ And I listened.”

(Y/N) did not open her eyes. “I am not your wife.”

Before he could stop himself, his lips betrayed his secrets. “You could be.”

At this, she opened one eye, as if she was trying to subtly evaluate what his words meant based on his body language. Sensing the sincerity upon his expression, her other eye opened too. She put her full attention on him. “What?”

His cheeks flushed, the tips of his elvish ears reddening, though the warm glow of the fire hid his embarrassment. He turned his head away. “Forgive me, (Y/N). I—I didn't mean to be so…so forward.” He hesitated, then looked back at her, seeing her flabbergasted expression. “I–I suppose there is no hiding it now. The reason I keep such close watch over you is because my heart won't let me do otherwise. I fear, well, I fear that you are not just a shadow following my path.” He exhaled softly. “(Y/N), you haunt me in the most beautiful way.”

She shifted from the pillows, drawing closer until her face was mere inches from Legolas’. “You–you care for me?” she whispered.

His hand tenderly cupped her cheek, his thumb moving in a soft motion. “More than I could ever put into words.”

“Legolas,” she whispered. “Your father did not assign me to your sector. I was supposed to be appointed to protect him. I—I requested to be assigned to you.”

The Prince’s gaze met hers. “Why, (Y/N)?”

“Because you too have been haunting me.”

Legolas wasted no time. He pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s in a gentle kiss and she responded eagerly. She tasted of herbal tea and hope, while he tasted of honey and peace. His hands gently cradled her face, while hers found their way to the back of his neck, fingers entwining in his hair. The scent of fresh lavender surrounded her, mingling with the aroma of pine that clung to him. In their embrace, their minds intertwined, both haunted by the other's presence—in the most beautiful way.

Slowly, they parted. Legolas pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead before speaking softly. "Lay down. Rest. I will watch over you."

She looked up at him. “Won't you lay with me? I am cold.”

He snorted, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips like the stem of a flower being plucked from a spring meadow. “You only want me to alleviate your pain, don't you?”

She grinned back at him. “Perhaps, Princeling. Though, I did not lie, I am cold.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Legolas kicked off his boots and drew back the covers. He allowed his body to melt against (Y/N)’s, providing warmth as he gently began to massage away her tension.

A content sigh escaped the woman’s lips as she snuggled further into him, eagerly stealing his warmth and accepting the pain relief he offered.

“Princeling,” she murmured, “You better not breathe a word of this either.”

He chuckled lightly, “I will not say a thing, Shadowfoot. I swear it.”

…

Everything Tag: @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding @hey-its-nonny @mirclealignr @laneynoir @straysugzhpe @runningfeather @finallyforgotten @kaiawrites @commanderawkward @xxbluestrifexx @slytherinambitious @desert-fern @skairipakomtrikru @genderfluid-anime-goth @sotwk @sirenofavalon @hobbitsesoftheshire @asianbutnotjapanese @mgchaser @heavenshumour @heavenshumour @clairealeehelsing @starenemy @ceruleanrainblues @casuallyeating-blog @cheari @aheadfullofsteverogers @imthebadguyyy @beehivehappy @queenmariex @newjsns01 @dontfearrr @annoyingstrawberryballoon @caffinated-and-sleepy @california-beach-babe-kay @fxckinggxd

Everything But Spice Tag: @goldfearless @Brethil13 @insert-random-blog @cauliflowertree @heranintomyknife23times @mxmia @unethicallypleistocene @amessofmultifandom @caffinated-and-sleepy

Legolas Tag: in the comments

[ydreamfairy]

MINE

Requested by: my brain 🧠

I’ve had this floating around in my drafts for forever. Does it make sense? no. Does Thranduil have fangs? no?

She hadn't meant for him to see.

The moonlight cast silver lines across her bare shoulder. She stood in the glade with another, one who was not her king, the ghost of his lips on her skin. There was no love in it. She didn’t even know his name. It was a distraction. A futile attempt to quiet the ache Thranduil had carved into her soul. She had not accepted his claim, not fully, not yet. And so in her mind, she was free.

But the Elvenking did not share that belief.

He stepped from the shadows with silent fury. A storm long held at bay. Eyes like winter frost bore into her, past her defences, past her shame to the truth she refused to name. The other elf was long forgotten, vanishing into the trees without a sound. Desperate to escape Thranduil’s withering gaze. She stood frozen, heart pounding and lips parted in some half-formed excuse she would never finish.

"You are mine" he growled, voice low and trembling with restrained wrath.

Before she could reply, his hands were on her, rough and trembling, with anger and something deeper. His mouth found the curve of her neck.

Pain.

Pleasure.

A gasp ripped from her throat as his fangs sank into her skin, anchoring her to him with a bond older than words. He drank her in, her blood, her essence. He consumed her denial, her confusion and her stubborn refusal to surrender.

“You belong to me," he whispered against her skin, lips brushing the mark he'd left. "And now the world will know it.”

[i-live-in-my-bookshelf]

Been thinking about how everyone would call Thorin 'Bilbo's Thorin' and it would start out as a joke, like one day during dinner Kili would jokingly say something along the line of 'He is Bilbo's Thorin now, he gets to choose what Bilbo makes for dinner, not us' and everyone would continue in different setting, only if Thorin or Bilbo is not around. Eventually Bofur who drank too much would say 'Bilbo's Thorin is here!' when Thorin opens the door to join a celebration in the dining hall, and would halt like a deer caught in the light. He would be so angry, yelling at them that they cannot under any circumstances call him that. He is no one's Thorin, if anything, Bilbo is his, not the other way around! But everyone was pretty drunk to care about his disapproval and they would laugh and joke while Balin would try to calm them down unsuccessfully. Thorin practically breathes fire, hands clutched, knuckles white when suddenly Bilbo appears in the door. Unknowingly asks "What's happening?" looking around the Dwarves having the time of their lifes, and Thorin seemingly having a stroke, and that is when the laughter erupts like a volcano. Thorin turns and leaves and Bilbo is standig there like a statue.

"What did you guys do?" Asks the dwarfs but they cant even say a word. Balin is the one telling Bilbo what made Thorin upset, and that he should probably go after him.

'Could you tell him they didn't mean it like that? He would listen to you' and Bilbo would go but on the way to him, he would smile. 'Bilbo's Thorin' mutters under his breath, loving how it sounds.

When he finds Thorin, he is sitting on the stone steps in one of the most solitary part of the castle. Bilbo sits next to him silently.

'Does this make you upset?' he starts uncertain 'That they call us that?'

Thorin would stay silent for a long time. Long enough to make Bilbo angry, and to stand up to leave him alone. But before he disappears Thorin says-

'No' it's silent, but it snaps. Still, he turns back to him, smiling.

'That's good, because I love it'

Thorin's anger dissolves quickly. 'I know' answers.

'Actually I think I love it so much, I want to hear it from you' says Bilbo, crossing his arms. Thorin just shakes his head, looking down shyly.

'Come on, my Thorin' coos Bilbo making him snap his head up in surprise.

'Wh- what?' stutters at the new nickname.

'I said my Thorin' repeats Bilbo, stepping closer and closer to him.

Bilbo stops just inches away from Thorin. In this way they can look into each others eyes, which is so rare, it makes Thorin forget everything, even his own name.

'I...' starts saying.

'No' he said firmly.

Thorin thinks for a second, weights his options, then finally says...

'My Bilbo'

The words roll down from his tongue like the sweetest music.

'Close enough' approves Bilbo. 'Remember this. I want to hear it often.'

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 2: Wrapped in a Fuzzy Blanket

Fili x Hobbit!reader

wc: 0.8k

warnings: none

a/n: this is written in 3rd person which I haven't really done in my fics before. I really like how it turned out though, maybe not for an all the time kinda thing but I think it works really well here

Dwarves are sturdy. There is no doubt about that, they can go days without eating (though they will complain the whole time) they can fight long battles without getting tired and they can weather the cold with little struggle. 

Hobbits are not sturdy, they are a gentle folk who enjoy the comforts of home and hearth and there is nothing wrong with that. It just means that on nights like these, where fifteen people crowd around one fire, they can get cold.

Fili hears her teeth chattering from across the camp, he notices the shake of her hands and the soft almost unconscious way her eyelids flutter against her ever reddening cheeks. He would find it deeply endearing if he weren’t so worried that she would freeze. 

He swiftly cast a glance over to Bilbo, to see if the gentleman Hobbit was just as affected by the night chill as she was. A quick look told Fee that Bilbo was not cold, at least not noticeably. Although that could have something to do with the large fur coat draped around his shoulders. One with a royal blue lining that Fili recognized but would not dare to mention. At least not in his Uncle's presence. 

Fili scans the camp in search of something, eyes landing on his own pack. Within it holds a handmade blanket his Amad had made him when he had told her he would be setting off on the journey. 

“The mountains get cold Fili, even for Durin’s folk.” She had chastised him when he had tried to tell her that he wouldn't need it, that such frivolities would only weigh his pack down.

He makes a mental note to apologize the next time he sees her, she was right, he would need it. Just looking at the shivering lass was making his own bones feel cold. Without a word he grasps the soft cloth and tugs it out from his pack, it still smells faintly of home. An old comfort that he cherished more than the warmth the garment could provide. 

He tries to be disappointed that the smell will be replaced by hers but deep down, he can’t even convince himself. It would be a gift from Mahal for her sweetness to seep into the fabric, for her scent to coat the inside of his pack. He represses a shiver of his own just thinking about it.

Standing swiftly he makes his way over to the lass, she doesn’t make a move to acknowledge his presence, just stares steadily into the burning flames as if the warmth would invade her through sight alone. 

He wishes, with all he is that he could know what she was thinking. Just once he would like a glimpse into the beautiful creation that is her mind. Are her thoughts consumed with the songs he so often finds her humming under her breath? Does she tell herself stories of the world around her, like the ones she weaves for Ori when he pleads with her? Or does she think of someone in particular, of a love she holds dear? Perhaps it is a Hobbit from back home, perhaps someone else? What he wouldn’t give for just a single moment in her mind.

He settles for taking care of her body instead, fluffing the blanket in the air and watching it float down on top of her shoulders. He wraps it around her and catches her gaze when she snaps her eyes towards his. 

“Thank you, Fee,” Her voice is soft, just like the rest of her. It floats gently on the wind into his mind, carving out a space in his memory. Not before long that is all his memory will be; brief moments of her. He can’t bring himself to care.

He says nothing to her, just smiles and nods and hopes that she understands. Understands that a blanket is nothing; that he would do so much more if only she asked. He would capture the sun in a bottle if it would keep her warm. 

He catches the moment she brings the blanket to her nose, inhaling deeply. He watches with deep satisfaction as her shoulders loosen. The tension she had been holding all day melts from her bones. 

Fili wonders not for the first time why she decided to come along with this rowdy group of dwarves in the first place. The reason she consistently gave was that she needed to watch out for her dear friend Bilbo, that she simply would not let him adventure without her. But Fili thought that it might have a little more to do with that look of longing he sometimes caught in her eye. With the fire that he sees raging within her soul. 

Fili really would give anything for just a moment in her head.

[faeriichaii]

Masterlist

A/N: This is my Masterlist filled with the stories I have written so far �� I will add other fandoms to my list soon but feel welcome to request anyone from lotr or hobbit🤭 I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed writing them!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა Requests: Closed (For now <3) ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა Fluff: ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა Angst: ☂ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა Smut: ☆ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The Fellowship:

How they realise their feelings: ♡

Aragorn:

Worthy Enough: ♡ Summary: Aragorn slowly begins to understand you and tries to find out even more about you

Legolas:

Softest Touch: ♡ Summary: After looking at the etheral elven prince, you have the urge to weave your fingers through his silken hair, leading to more than just simple hair braiding.

Music to my ears: ♡ Summary: A trip to the tavern results in you not just winning new fans over with your music, but also winning the heart of a certain elven prince.

Immunity: ♡ Summary: Being sick is not fun, especially when you see Legolas' panicked gaze at your condition, which seems to get worse as the days pass by.

Words like Poison: ☂♡ Summary: Your beloved prince is stressed and busy with his duties. So, when you approach him to try and lighten the mood, he lets his frustration out on you.

Braiding Together: ♡ Summary: You have always received compliments for your cute braids, so you decided to offer the hobbits to braid their hair. However, Legolas really doesn't understand, why you would do that.

Lily: ☂♡ Summary: Being a princess with a gruesome father as a king makes you only wish to run away. So you do and run directly into the arms of an ethereal prince

Blessing: ♡ Summary: The journey of the fellowship ended a long time ago and suddenly you receive the invitation of the prince to join him in Mirkwood, meeting his father. But how will Thranduil react to seeing his sons best friend being a dwarf and his betrothed being an Avari?

Sensitive: ♡☆ Summary: You knew that Legolas could endure quite a lot, but what you did not expect is his reaction to touching his pointy ears

Little Quirks: ♡ Summary: The elven prince for some reason couldn't stop staring at you, which in return made you confused and very curious, as to why his eyes were constantly following you around.

Stormy Patrol: ♡ Summary: Tauriel and you were out on patrol without Legolas. But a storm takes you by surprise, resulting in you getting lost in the dark forest.

Sunkissed: ♡ Summary: You have been in love with the elven prince since quite a time, but never told him about it. Your sister Arwen however, is determined to change the course of your relationship with Legolas.

Keep Quiet: ☆ Summary: You seem to have teased your husband Legolas a little too long during one important meeting, so he teaches you a lesson.

Thorin:

A Part From Home: ♡ Summary: Tagging along for an adventure with Gandalf, you didn't expect to run into people that remind you of your lost home.

Part of Your World: ♡ Summary: Little mermaid you finds various little trinkets and things in the waters around Erebor and you can't wait to share them with your s/o.

There's just Inches in between us: ☆♡ Summary: You were the princess of another kingdom, meant to marry none other than the dwarven King Thorin from the lonely mountain. You rarely get the chance to talk to him and decide to visit him the night before the wedding, asking him to give you some attention.

Symphony of Your Life: ♡ Summary: Thorin went to visit his old friend Bilbo in the Shire once more, without expecting to be enchanted by a melodic voice that fills not just his ears but also his heart.

Fading Light: ♡☂ Summary: Thorin and you, his daughter on your journey to Erebor. And also the journey of him as a single father watching his princess grow up.

Kili:

Hija de la Luna Series (warnings: none so far): Prologue; Chapter I

Part of Your World: ♡ Summary: Little mermaid you finds various little trinkets and things in the waters around Erebor and you can't wait to share them with your s/o.

My Treasure: ♡ Summary: You have been travelling the sea for years on your wonderful ship with your crew, so you are a bit curious, when you find a bunch of dwarves hiding away in fish barrels.

Feathers: ♡ Summary: Joining the company on their quest, you knew to expect possible danger on the way. What you did not expect are the feelings between you and the prince.

My Sweet Valentine: ♡ Summary: You spent your morning hours with the wonderful dwarf prince Kili

Braiding Lessons: ♡ Summary: You always knew dwarves had various beautiful braids, but how come Kili doesn't? So one night you decide to change that and help him out.

Fili:

Part of Your World: ♡ Summary: Little mermaid you finds various little trinkets and things in the waters around Erebor and you can't wait to share them with your s/o.

Thranduil:

Bookworm: ☆ Summary: Legolas let the secret of a restricted area in the library slip, which makes you of course very curious. So after deciding to enter the forbidden part, you get caught by none other than the elven king himself.

[fckmini]

Hii, im new to your blog and I love your work!! I was wondering if you could do a thranduil x fem elf reader who is the princess of nature so she can control nature etc and they could of met when they were younger and they were arranged to marry and fluffy ending please and thank you :))

I hope you like this @chocotacobread ! thank you SO much for requesting and feel free to send in any more that you have! :) im sorry it took so long!

—————————————————————————

Spring - Thranduil x fem elf! Reader romantic fluff

I’m sorry if its too waffly but i wanted to write something pretty! 

Thranduil x reader relationship - fluff and romance :)

my masterlist is here - please check out some of my other work if you can!

As always please give me some feedback and please send requests <3

this is written as a part 2 to this request!!

mutuals and ppl I think might be interested: @in-darker-dreams @tolkien-fantasy @the-messy-nessie @blairsanne @aceofatook @lilunoakes @shrimpsthings @the-nerd-procrastinator @khazdith @glorfindelridesagain @therealsomajesticdonki @catnip-and-caprice @blairsanne @leafycasper @ur-gucchi-im-crocs @thelifelemonsgaveyou @emptyspace008 @iactuallyshipeveryone @zemosboy @theelfmaiden @i-did-not-mean-to @gossip-guy-of-middle-earth @catnip-and-caprice

—————————————————————————

It was finally spring. Its arrival had always been a cherished event in the Woodland Realm, and this year was no different. A homely warmth seeped into Thranduil's skin, embracing him tenderly. The royal garden, awash with the tender hues of spring, was alive with the soft whisper of cherry blossoms. The sun’s tender touch enlivened soft petals that danced in the wind. They swirled, fluttering gently to the ground like the delicate brush of eyelashes in the morning. The King stood, a spectator to the seasons, his thoughts drifting back in time. 

Many springs ago, this very garden witnessed the first meeting of Thanduil and his beloved wife. It had been an arranged marriage, as is custom for elven royalty. The sun had been gleaming with the same fond brightness as it was now. It cast a golden hue that glittered in the iridescent dew that adorned the grass: nature's pearls. He was waiting with bated breath to meet his betrothed when she floated in. A breath of life. A sigh of sunshine. Ripples of grass blossomed beneath each step she took, leaving a constellation of wildflowers and daisies behind her.  The air was thick with pollen, heavy with the promise of new life. Otherworldly, even amongst elves. Her very essence seemed intertwined with the earth, and the elven king had been entranced from that first moment. 

“Thranduil,” her voice had been soft, melodic, “it is an honour to meet you.”

“And you, my lady,” he had replied, bowing with a grace befitting a king, though his heart had skittered like that of a newborn deer. His eyes of starlight met hers, the deep hue of the sun at dawn. Sunshine incarnate, flowers bloomed before her, but none more so than the elven king. Her smile made the world itself seem dim, her laugh was purer than the tinkling of a rushing stream. He had worn his finest robes, plaited his silver, moonlight, hair in traditional braids. Yet, hers was ornate beyond compare, decorated with a rainbow of blooms, as opalescent as an aurora. 

In that moment, two souls had entwined, as is common in elven life-bonds. Once a sapling, their marriage blossomed into a bond that neither could have anticipated. The famously icy temperament of the king thawed beneath her touch and gaze. He melted before her. Their hands, desperate for the nourishing affection of the other, would reach out, hopeful, longing like ancient roots seeking water. The time in his life before her was but a shadow of a memory, too distant and too dark to recall. 

"My King," a loving voice broke his reverie. She approached, eternally radiant, still leaving a trail of blossoming flowers behind her.

"My queen," he replied, his voice thick with warmth and reverence.

She joined him. "It is a beautiful day, is it not?" she asked, her hand slipping into his, fitting perfectly as it always had.

"It is." He replied, their eyes met, twinkling with the same light that had captivated the other all those years ago.

Together, they stood in silence, watching the cherry blossoms continue to dance in the breeze. The soft murmur of spring stirred around them. The garden, once a witness to the beginning of their love, now stands testament to its enduring strength. Its growth, how they had flourished, was much like the nature that his queen so cherished.

As they stood there, enveloped in the beauty of spring, they both knew that their love would continue to bloom, season after season, for all eternity. 

[theimaginesyouneveraskedfor]

Hi! I'm TOTALLY IN LOVE with this fanfic you wrote!! could you please write another fic about Thorin x reader? maybe where Thorin tries to push away reader because he thinks he's too old for them and is scared the sickness of the dragon will take him again? I don't know if you're accepting requests, it's totally fine if you don't of course 🙏 thank you ❤️

Like a Heartbeat Drives You Mad

Thorin was evasive. He was never very talkative but since that night he chanted your name like a prayer, he kept himself elusive. You wouldn't be so presumptive as you think him afraid of you, perhaps just slightly embarrassed. As he said, you had no doubt it was likely the side effect of his constant frustration with you.

You walked with Dwalin and Balin. The elderly brothers competed often with their fearless king in the arena of gripes. They moaned of every ache or pain or even just an unexpected dip the ground, as if the land were working against them.

Kill and Fili and were not far behind in the train. They sounded as if they were having much more fun. You slowed, unnoticed by the aged warriors, and joined the brothers Durin. They greeted you with a fistful of mud across your coat.

"Eh? Is this why you're causing ruckus?" You wiped off the muck and scowled.

"What else is there to do in this swamp?" Kili flung a fistful over the heads of the elder dwarves.

A grunted replied from ahead, beyond where you couldn't see. The thick figures ahead of you parted and made way for the fuming bull. Thorin puffed into his beard, muck strewn through his hair.

"Which on of you--" He jabbed his finger in the air then choked as his crystalline eyes fell on you. His index hovered just before you before he dropped it. "No more throwing dirt!"

He turned and marched past back through the brothers ahead of you. You stared at his back as Fili whistled and Kili clucked. You continued to scrape the mud from your jacket.

"I hope there's a river ahead," you muttered.

"That was odd of uncle." Fili commented.

"Wasn't it?" Kili agreed.

"Huh? He yells at you two often."

"But not very much this time," Kili countered. "I expected at least a cuff on my ear."

"Or a box on the chin," Fili added.

You dropped your arms and puffed out. You kept on, dragging your feet on the soft earth. A heat nipped at your ears and you glanced between the brothers. They smirked.

"No more mud--"

"Never worry. We've had our fun," Fili held up his hands. "What has transpired?"

"You threw mud--"

"No, between you and Uncle Thorin," Kili nudged you. "What've you done?"

"Me? I've done nothing but the only thing we've been doing. Walk!"

"Something..."

"Naughty."

The brothers continued each other's thoughts.

"What? No!" You protested.

"You are a poor liar."

"I do not lie."

"We both saw it. Uncle... has a heart?" Fili chortled.

"You are wrong."

"Never," Kili insisted. "Shall I ask him or should you, brother? I should like to see the red in his cheeks."

"You are deluded," you scoffed and hurried ahead. "I tire of you."

You stepped back between Balin and Dwalin. You sniffed and shook your head. You stared up at the king, gripping his ax as he lead the charge. Alone.

"Is there something amiss with the king?" You asked.

"What mean you?" Balin wondered.

"Nothing. It is only... he has been quiet with me."

"Isn't he ever?" Dwalin snorted.

"Hm, suppose..." you trailed off and once more kicked ahead of them.

You pumped your arms to meet the gait of the king. He didn't seem to notice you. Not until you greeted him aloud.

He flinched, "what are you doing?"

"My king--"

"I am scouting. You must stay with the others," he looked past you, not at you.

"Yes, I will. Once you tell me what that was."

"What what was? Be plain. Dwarfesses and their riddles," he growled.

You sighed, "you ran away from me like I was an orc."

"Do not speak of them lest they appear," he chided.

"Apologies, my king, but tell me why--"

"I did not run."

"Surely, you did. Your nephews saw it--"

"My nephews are fools," he argued.

"But I am not." You returned.

It was his turn to sigh. He put his chin down and walked with his hands clasped on the handle of his ax. He tisked between his teeth.

"You should be with the others."

"You said so already--"

"You shouldn't be near me," he warned and turned his face away from you.

"I shouldn't? Because you are king?"

"That is not--" he paused and set his chin straight. He watched the horizon as he continued. "Would you invade my waking hours as you do my dreams?"

You tripped but caught yourself. You blinked in surprise. "So you were--"

"It hardly should matter. You should obey your king and be away," he waved you off.

"Why do you dream of me?"

He was silent again. This time for a while. You wavered and think to take his command. Before you can, he cleared his throat.

"I am old and old dwarves grow wild. They're mind wanders... their wits with it."

"You are unwell?"

"Mmm, not in this moment," he grumbled. "Not with you near and so is the issue. A king shouldn't feel such. Not for a dwarfess as you."

"Eh?"

"A king prone to delusion as my father was. A man with years in his bones like sand in a glass."

"I would not be mistaken, my king, what you say--"

"A confession I trust you treat with discretion. For I know, you are too young for such a proposal and I am too mad--"

"My king?" You chuckled. "Would you not even let me think on it before you accept rejection?"

"You would mock me," he stared at his boots as he trod on.

"Never, my king. But I hear you. Let it settle in my ears so I might have a clear thought." You girded, "I will return your answer before you dream of me again."

"You tease, still."

You grinned and tilted your head, "I've not yet decided if I do or I don't."

[fizzyxcustard]

Desperation.

Requested by anon and @skeleton-on-wheels0

Taken from: "Imagine that you find out Thorin is in love with you. But you accuse him of only wanting you because you’re the only woman in the Company and he’s desperate. You deeply offend him."

Again, I’m going to post this as a drabble as it’s fairly short, and I won’t tag anyone. 

“I am in love with you,” Thorin said softly as he stood next to you in Beorn’s barn. The midnight moon shone upon his face, highlighting his silver blue eyes, making them sparkle like aquamarine stones. 

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine at his revelation. Why on earth would Thorin ever feel something for you? Immediately your mind began rationalising his feelings, churning it all over in your mind. For a few seconds and you were silent. 

“And you do not feel the same?” Thorin asked sadly. “I knew it was best I keep my thoughts to myself.” 

“Thorin,” you whispered, placing your hand on his arm. “I…I know I’m the only woman in the Company and no doubt as a male, you’re going to have urges…”

“That is what you think?” he hissed. “You think this is all about me wanting to seduce you?” 

“Please, I didn’t mean it that way.” 

“Then how did you mean it? 

Something snapped within you, a sore pressure point that had been prodded many times over the years. A place where a deeply buried scar lay untouched, waiting for someone to inadvertently uncover it with their words. A flash of anger hit you full force in your head and chest. “You’re just desperate!” you shouted. 

With that, you turned around stormed away towards the back of the barn and slumped down on a bale of hay. Tears were falling down your cheeks now in quick procession which you rubbed away in frustration, only making your cheeks turn redder. 

Thorin sighed and grit his teeth, sensing that your words came from a place of pain. However, those words had also deeply pained him in return. Did you think so little of him? Trust so little? 

***

The next morning and the tension was still thick between you and Thorin. The whole of the Company, including Gandalf, all sat around a large table, drinking milk and eating honeycakes, specially made by the host himself.  However, Beorn announced gruffly that he had no more honeycakes for that morning’s meal, and you were the last person he was intending to serve. 

All the Dwarves, Bilbo and Gandalf looked on, their mouths full of food. Except Thorin. He was sat opposite you and immediately reached across to you and handed his cake to you. “Please, eat,” he said, offering you the cake and a sad smile. 

“I can’t take your breakfast,” you replied. 

“You can and you will,” Thorin said again, placing the cake on your plate. 

“Maybe we could split it?” 

Thorin didn’t respond, but instead kept his gaze locked on you as you broke the cake in half and then gave a portion back to him. 

***

After breakfast, you and Bilbo began filling the saddlebags of the ponies which Beorn was lending you. He had since made more honeycakes, enough to see all of you with food for a good couple of weeks. 

“May we have a moment, Master Baggins?” Thorin asked, suddenly appearing before you both. His eyes then moved to you, telling Bilbo that he wished to talk to you. 

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Bilbo said, flashing a nervous smile. 

“I wish to talk to you about last night. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. That was never my intention to do so. But what I told you is the truth, and it has nothing at all to do with you being the only female in this Company. I am quite appalled that you think I would pursue you without any real feelings being involved.” 

Your gaze locked with his and you began to speak. “It was unfair of me to say what I did, and I’m sorry. Very few men have ever shown any interest in me in such a way, and then I become a member of your Company and find that you, the rightful king of your homeland, somehow has fallen in love with me. It reads like a pathetic joke. Maybe once we get to Erebor and you see more women again you may…”

“No,” Thorin insisted. “Why do you think so low of yourself? Who has broken you to the point that you cannot accept a declaration of love? I’d hoped you had begun to trust me by now. It is clear you don’t.” 

“I do trust you. Implicitly.”

“Obviously not. You cannot trust that my words are true, and that they come from my heart. I love you for everything that you are, for the woman you are. Not because of some lack of choice.” 

The sadness in his eyes was so clear to see and it made a lump rise in your throat. To keep doubting his love and pushing him away would be wrong of you. It was obvious that Thorin was speaking truth. 

[anaszpan]

[ IMAGINE ] : AFTER THE BATTLE OF THE FIVE ARMIES YOU HAVE TO CUT FILI'S HAIR.

[ ( ´ ꒳ ` ) ♡ ] [ A/N ] : The photos do not belong to me. English is not my native language. Don't hesitate to use this idea in your story.

The flickering candlelight cast a soft glow across the dimly lit chamber, picking out shadows that danced on the stone walls, remnants of a sorrowful aftermath. The air was thick with the weight of unspoken words and lingering regrets, so tangible it felt as if one could reach out and touch the sorrow that permeated the room. Each flicker of the flame illuminated the contours of the ancient stones, their surfaces worn and pockmarked by time, as if bearing witness to the heart-wrenching stories that echoed within these walls.

Fili sat silently on a rough-hewn wooden stool, his head bowed. The once vibrant golden strands of his hair fell in disarray about his shoulders, matted and encrusted with the remnants of chaos and bravery. A patch of dried blood, mingled with flecks of mud and telltale signs of the savage skirmish, clung to his locks like a dark memory that refused to yield. The loss we had suffered hung between us — Kili is gone, a hero's fall, a wound too deep for any balm.

“Fili” You whispered “we need to… we need to do something.”

He looked up, those piercing blue eyes reflecting a mix of fatigue and an unspoken acceptance of fate. “Beneath the tangle of it all,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair in a vain effort to set it right, “lies the strength of my family—my ancestors. This hair, it’s a mark of who we are.”

A lump rose in your throat as you studied him; the fierce spirit of a warrior held captive by sorrow. It's understood that to a dwarf, long hair was more than just a symbol of pride; it carried stories, legacies, and loss—reminders of kinship and battles fought together. To cut his hair felt like an act of betrayal against the very essence of Dwarven culture and against the bond that had brought us together through countless trials.

As you kneel beside Fili, the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies hangs heavy in the air. The sounds of the battlefield fade into a haunting silence, only the distant moans of the wounded and the crackle of the dying embers fill the space between us. His dark, tousled hair is matted, tangled in gruesome knots that tell the story of the ferocity of the fight. Blood, both his and that of his foes, has dried into the strands, mixing with remnants of ogre flesh, creating a gruesome tapestry that clings stubbornly to his scalp.

“The battles we fought have etched our souls and those of our kin into something far greater than hair,” Your heart ached as you plucked a dagger —a tool of war now turned to one of tenderness. You sigh heavily as you begin to work through the strands, separating them from the worst of the debris. Each tug of the knife against the tangled knots is accompanied by a pained grunt from him, but you press on, knowing it’s a necessary discomfort. “We carry them with us in our hearts, but we must also find the courage to begin anew.”

You clip away the worst of the snarls, the clumps of dried blood and flesh falling to the ground in a testament to what he’s endured. There’s a vulnerability in the air, a sense of intimacy in this act of care.

Time passed in quietude, and with each snip, you recalled the laughter shared with Kili, the fierce bravery they displayed as brothers in arms. You could almost hear Kili’s voice, urging forward, reminding you that grief, while powerful, could not overshadow the legacy they were meant to forge.

When the final snip echoed through the silence, you stepped back, surveying the result of careful handiwork. Fili’s hair, though shorn and lessened in length, gleamed with the remnants of honor. It framed his face, a softer version of the warrior you admired, you loved, a reminder that it was not the length of his hair that defined him, but the spirit and courage that dwelled within. Golden-haired prince looks up at you with a grateful glint in his eyes, a hint of life returning to them.

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raw and unsteady.

“You’re still a dwarf, Fili — just a little less tangled....They'll grow back.” You promised him softly.

[gatheringfiki]

Drabble Challenge 9 is now officially open!

We are only playing Sat - Sun, so please come back on Tumblr to check it often. (From now on until Sun/Mon midnight whatever time you’re on)

RULES ARE THE SAME AS LAST TIME - PLEASE READ UNDER THE CUT:

STEP 1: Pick one of the following prompts:

Luprecalia

It's 3 a.m. but fuck it, we're being domestic.

Never have I ever...

The Consort and his King

Nectarines

"They will have to go through me."

Assembling IKEA furniture

Renting rooms from the locals

Valentines Day

“This isn’t going the way that I thought it would.”

Step 2: Write a quick response of at least 100 words (a classic drabble is 100 words, but whatever).

We won’t be counting, but the challenge here is to be concise, while having a clear link to the prompt you’re responding to. There is no upper limit, but remember the prompts get snatched pretty quick.

Fili/Kili or any fictional Dean/Aidan pairings, clearly mark your warnings etc.

Existing verses or brand new work are both fine.

Step 3: Refresh Tumblr and use the notes to check the last person that has reblogged this post with a response (IMPORTANT!)

Just ordinary reblogs to spread the word are ok (ignore those), but you’re looking specifically for the latest reblog that had a drabble added.

Step 4: Reblog from that person, adding your response. You also need to copy-paste the prompt list and REPLACE the one prompt you responded to with a brand new prompt (anything you like).

I.e. you claim one and you put one back. There are still 10 prompts.

Step 5: Format your post. Response text and updated prompts list MUST be hidden under the ‘Read more’ button.

Only 2 lines should be visible on the dashboard: 1) which prompt you’re claiming, pairing, rating, verse, possible warnings and 2) ‘Read more’.

Step 6: Tag your response: #Drabble Challenge 9 so that whoever wants to, can blacklist the whole event.

Next person:

Step 1: Find the latest reblog of this post with a response.

Step 2: Pick one of the prompts from the updated list (always find the latest reblog!)

Repeat Step 3, Step 4, Step 5, Step 6 etc. The list of prompts is forever evolving.

This event is meant to be snappy and fast, creating a caterpillar of reblogs, crawling all over your dashes.

How to resolve possible problems:

Two people writing responses at the same time for 2 different prompts from the same list. This is not a problem: So long as the second person responding finds the latest reblog, their prompt should still be available on the updated list. Only 1 prompt is replaced at a time.

Two people writing responses at the same time for the same prompt (AKA my prompt disappeared by now): Find the latest reblog, add your response and add your own prompt as number 11. From now on there are 11 prompts. However, this is meant to be snappy, so please don’t spend half a day writing 100 words…

Meanwhile, @linane-art will kick-start this, and provide the first example.

Have fun! Any questions - give us a shout. If it starts going wrong, there may be a mod reblog, setting it straight again.

~gatheringfiki

[kainekillinggod]

Dís and Thorin actually should look really similar and so when Dís comes to Erebor, Bilbo sees her in the halls and says "hello darling🥰" bc he doesn't realize at first glance that it's her ☠️☠️☠️

And she's super fucking confused but just assumes it's a hobbit thing, and then like. 5 minutes later when Bilbo is doing whtvr he's doing, he just. Thinks. And then. Realizes.

And freaks the fuck out and tries to find her cuz "oh my god yeah, Thorin said his sister was coming soon how could I be so stupid oh my god I must look insane I hope I didn't offend her-"

And Dís and Thorin are just talking and catching up and Bilbo walks in super embarrassed and Dís greets him with a "Hello darling🥰" bc she assumes it's hobbit customs to say that.

Now Thorin is confused and Bilbo freaking tf out bc he thinks he's being made fun of and Dís is just sorta. Chilling and having a great time

[entishramblings]

you grew up a legolas girlie? how’s that bisexuality treating you?

[conversacomsmaug]

I couldn't help but notice that among so many obscene fantasies with Thranduil, I missed seeing something else like in a Mordern UA, Thranduil is the boss of the large company in which Tauriel is promoted and can't help but think about how his bastard and annoying boss It's sexy. Even in the Thranduil x reader interaction, I've been missing this obvious and sexy theme hehe Maybe I will, but I want to be a reader now, anyone?

[multi-fandom-imagine]

If possible, could you do Dwalin giving reader a Dwarven bead for her hair as a courting gift?

A/n: I hope you like this and I hope I did him justice! 😩

Au: Where everyone lived and no one died.

The battle had long passed, Thorin was somewhere barking orders as the others wanders various parts of Erebor, and the air was now filled with the softer clang of hammer and forge, the smell of stone dust and fire-heated metal. Erebor had begun to rebuild, and so had its people. But amidst all the restoration and duty, Dwalin found his eyes wandering more than they used to—specifically toward you.

You, with your stubborn strength and quiet laughter, who had wormed your way into the very stone of his heart without even realizing it. He didn't know why he was so drawn to you, you weren't a dwarf, just a friend of Bilbo and Gandalf that had decided to tag along.

He’d never courted anyone before. Not truly. Not with the intent to build something lasting with the one he cared the most about, But you….you made him think of warmth, and peace, and mornings shared in kind silence.

And so, with calloused fingers and a gruff sort of determination, Dwalin carved a bead.

It wasn’t overly ornate—he was not one for frills—but it was solid and meaningful. A pattern of interlocking runes etched around the circumference, ancient symbols for loyalty, protection, and strength. Your name, hidden in Dwarvish script, lined the inner band where only you would ever see it.

And today will be the day he will give it to you and hopefully you will say yes. With a deep breath and the bead in his hand he made his way towards you, he had found you alone in a small sitting area, the early morning sun catching on your hair. You smiled when you saw him, and he felt his heart thud like a war drum.

“Oi,” he said, clearing his throat as he stepped into your path. His fingers curled around the bead inside his palm like it might burn him.

You tilted your head. “Yes, Dwalin?”

He huffed. “Got somethin’ for you.”

You blinked, watching as he reached into the pocket of his leather coat and pulled out the bead. The moment it caught the light, your breath hitched softly.

He held it out with an awkward grunt, not quite meeting your gaze. “It’s… for your hair. I carved it m’self.”

You reached out slowly, fingers brushing his as you took it. Your eyes widened as you traced the rune markings.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, cradling it like something precious.

Dwalin gave a nervous grunt, shifting on his feet. “It’s a courting bead,” he said, voice quieter now, more uncertain. “Meanin’… if you wear it… it means you’d have me. If you want.”

You looked up at him, stunned, then back down at the bead. For a moment, you said nothing—and Dwalin braced himself for the worst.

But then, with the smallest smile tugging at your lips, you pulled your hair over your shoulder and began to braid it, right there in front of him. With deft fingers, you slipped the bead into place and secured it tightly.

When you finally met his eyes again, the smile was radiant.

“I’d have you, Dwalin,” you murmured, voice as warm as a hearth. “And gladly.”

The warrior’s shoulders sagged with relief, and for once, the fierce tattooed Dwarf looked a little flustered.

“…Good,” he grunted, trying not to smile. “Good.”

He walked beside you the rest of the way in silence, but your fingers brushed against his hand more than once—and he didn’t pull away.

[plussizefantasia]

Unsure Hearts

Read Part One Here: Fluttering Hearts

Warnings: Reader gets grabbed, alcohol, I think that's it tbh

an: heyyyy... sorry I was MIA, lots of stuff going on I'll post an update about it soon. In the meantime enjoy part two of the Kili x reader fic from Flufftober. I think this will be a five-part fic including an epilogue and the next two parts are already underway. I've also got some requests ready to be edited and posted soon. Thank you for bearing with me, much love <3

Kili Durin x Human!Soulmate!reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Thorin was getting worried, Kili had become somewhat of a ghost story over the past month. He had assumed that his nephew was simply doing his duty. Kili had volunteered to be the envoy between Dale and Erebor for the discussions of armament and training. However, that treaty was signed a week ago, and said envoy position was no longer needed. So why in all of Arda was Kili still going to Dale every day? The young prince left as soon as he was finished with his daily tasks and didn’t return to the mountain until well after the sun had set. Thorin was not worried for his nephew's safety, after all, Kili was an excellent warrior and could take care of himself, no, Thorin was worried for Kili’s heart. 

Fili had also noticed his brother’s absence but the blonde prince had always been a bit more perceptive than his surly uncle. Fili had noticed that Kili was missing, but he also noticed that every time he returned to the mountain it was with the most dopey grin that he had ever seen. A grin that he recognized, for it had also graced his face a few months ago when he met his beloved Alma. Fili would bet his beard on it, Kili was in love.

You on the other hand were getting more and more annoyed each time the brown-haired dwarf walked through the front door. He was charming sure, and polite. But he stared. At you. The whole time he was there. And he was there a lot. His attempts to engage you in conversation were far and few between, the few times he was able to grab your attention away from the bustling building he became tongue-tied the moment your eyes landed on his.

Kili didn’t understand why he couldn’t say more than a few words to you without choking on his words. Your eyes had to hold some kind of spell within them. They enchanted him and left him bewitched every time he caught their gaze. It left him frustrated, he had never had this much trouble with women before, why were you so different? Deep down he knew though, you weren’t just any woman. He was afraid though, afraid that naming what you were to him out loud would make it real. And when it is real, it can hurt you. 

There weren’t very many stories on One’s where the love didn’t end up requited, either because it just simply never happened. Dwarves were incredibly stubborn creatures after all, and it was entirely possible that they just wore down their other half until some sort of connection formed. It was also possible that those unfortunate few who weren’t able to woo their other half died of broken hearts. The former was unlikely as Kili kept having to remind himself, he couldn’t die of a broken heart. Right?

He was determined tonight though, to find out definitively if the sparks he felt for you were just interest in the handsome woman from Bree, or if you truly were the other half of his soul. To do that though he would need to say more than a few words to you. The problem with that was that you seemed exceptionally busy tonight.

Busy you were, Brant had told you last night that he was going to be leaving today to go to visit family for some type of emergency. 

“If the place is still standing when I get back, we’ll talk more about it becoming yours someday.” He had said. You were hoping that that ‘someday’ was sooner rather than later. Brant was getting up there in years. Just last week he had hurt himself trying to lift one of the barrels of ale that had been shipped in from the Iron Hills. You had been taking on more and more of his old tasks and to be completely honest, it felt like you did the job of an owner anyway, just without all the benefits.

You weren’t going to let the man down though, even if it did mean rushing back and forth all night trying to keep up with demand all by yourself.

“Another! Y/N,” was yelled in front the back of the room. Roland was a boisterous man who got along with everyone, he was only a year or two older than you and was currently on his eighth pint of the night. He had a large countenance and seemed to fill up whatever space he occupied, he was handsome but the more and more he drank the less his looks mattered. Usually, this is the point in the night where he starts bordering more on unruly rather than fun-loving. Nevertheless, he was a paying customer and as long as he could still walk on his own out the doors, you weren’t going to say no to his money.

You grabbed another pint glass and poured one for him, balancing it and several other drinks on a tray. You steeled yourself with a deep breath before running back out into the fray. 

Walking close to the stool he was sat on you leaned slightly over him and placed his pint down on the counter beside him. He was engrossed in the conversation between the large group of men, something about the best way to skin a buck, you weren’t really listening. As you grabbed his empty glass to take back to the kitchen to be washed, his large hand encircled your wrist none too gently.

“A pint is a wonderful thing, but it is even more delicious when served by a beautiful lady,” He whispered into your ear. You grit your teeth and roughly pull your hand back. 

“Now, Roland, what have we said about touching things that don’t belong to you? Huh? Touch the wrong thing and you might just lose your hand.” You spit back at him. Cutting your eyes up at the mounted swords that rest above the fireplace only a few steps from where the two of you are. “I’d hate to have to clean those swords, they are sharp.” You look back into his eyes, satisfied with the fear that you see within them. You stand back up and place your tray back upon your shoulder. 

“Anything else I can get you gents?” You question the other men scattered about the space. Silence reigned over the air for a few moments. 

“Alrighty then.” 

A pint here, a glass of wine there, and two hot meals delivered later, your tray was empty and everyone in the place seemed momentarily satisfied. 

 Letting out a breath you lean up against the counter.

“What did you say to him?” A somewhat familiar voice pipes up beside you. You turn your head towards the voice. It's the dwarf prince, and you are once again struck with just how handsome he is. You are also struck with the familiar feeling of annoyance, of course, he picked now to talk to you. Just when you had finally afforded yourself a break.

“Hmm?” You raise a singular eyebrow at him. “Who?”

“That large and very drunk man in the back, I couldn’t hear what you said but I could see the look on his face. It was similar to my brother’s when our mother would scold him for forgetting his manners.”

“That’s not too far off actually, Roland over there got a little too comfortable and touched something that didn’t belong to him, I had to remind him of the rules.”

“And what exactly did he touch that was so forbidden?” The prince smirks and laughs.

You smirk back and lift a glass to your lips before uttering one single word, “Me.”

All of the laughter drained from Kili’s face, “He touched you?” His voice had gotten much lower, his eyes darkened right before you.

 You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to stop you right there Your Highness, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years. I don’t need some man, no matter how handsome he is coming to defend my honor every time I’m even remotely slighted. The trail of bodies will get far too long.” You stare into his eyes as you speak, putting all the righteous fury you’ve got stored inside into each word. 

Seconds tick by before he opens his mouth to speak again.

“You think I’m handsome?”

“I think that we have bigger problems if that is the only thing you got from that.” You took another sip.

“No, no, no I got the point, you don’t need a big strong man to come to your rescue. Lucky for you, I am not big.”

The laugh that sprung from the back of your throat caught you off guard, you slap a hand over your mouth in an impossible effort to catch it and shove it back inside. He was funny, he had never been funny before.

Kili liked your laugh even though it was closer to a snort than an actual laugh, and he would be foolish to ignore the way his heart picked up at the thought that he was the one who made you laugh.

“You- I- I have never heard of a dwarf who makes fun of themselves, in my limited experience your lot are very prideful.”

“Not as prideful as some other races, I should think.”

“No, you’re not nearly as prideful as the pointy-eared bastards who hole themselves up in that accursed forest.” Your words held a healthy amount of rage as well as teasing.

“I sense that there is a story there somewhere.” Kili raised an eyebrow, mimicking your face from earlier. He was desperately trying not to think about the fact that this was the longest conversation the two of you had had up to date.

“One that I’m going to need a lot more liquid courage before divulging, I’m afraid.”

“We can make that happen.” Kili wiggled his eyebrows and pointed at the bottles of liquor behind the bar that separated the two of you.

At that very moment, a shout from the rowdy bunch of men in the back rang out, calling for another round.

“Duty calls your highness, but perhaps I will tell you that story… another time.” You winked at him and grabbed for your tray again, beginning to load it up once more. If that is how conversations with the dwarf prince went all the time, you wouldn’t mind having them more often.  

You walked away before Kili could come up with a response, but he was more certain than he ever had been that your heart called to his. Why else would the very sight of you walking away feel like his heart was leaving too?

Read Part 3 here: Troubled Hearts

tags: @bunnybabe-babydoll @kokochanel111 @shiinata-library @oneiratxxia10