#humxns

[awakefor48hours]

Sx xppxrxntly xn xrdxr tx bx mxrx xnclxsxvx wxth lxngxxgx fxr thxsx whx dxn’t hxvx x gxndxr, yxu hxvx tx pxt xn X wxth xvxry vxwxl. Yxxr lxftxst xdxxlxgy sxcks.

Translation under cut

So apparently in order to be more inclusive with language for those who don’t have a gender, you have to put an X with every vowel. Your leftist ideology sucks.

[middleearthpixie]

The Ties That Bind ~ Chapter One

Summary: Although Erebor is his once more, Thorin knows there is still a great threat to the peace of Middle Earth. Azog is gone, but another has taken his place and has sworn to finish what Azog began. Erebor is back, but it’s sadly lacking in protection and as much as he hates the thought of it, Thorin knows there is one thing that will guarantee the safety and continuation of his line.

War is coming and all Eirlys of Mirkwood wishes to do is fight alongside her brother Legolas and the other elves, united with Men and Dwarves in their attempt to quell the renewed tensions between them and the orc army of the north. But, her father, Thranduíl has other plans. Unite his kingdom with the newly reestablished kingdom of Erebor and use the power of both to defeat the orcs.

An arranged marriage that neither side wants, but both sides need. But what happens when the two sides realize that maybe—just maybe—being together isn't quite as bad as they'd thought...

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Eirlys of Mirkwood

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.1k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo

@lathalea @legolasbadass @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically

@guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321

@dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith

@asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep @night-ace @lyl1pad

@mistresskayla-blog1

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Erebor

“Thorin, will you just listen to reason?”

Thorin spun about to stare at his younger sister with a look that would have terrified a lesser person. Although it took more than his ire to make Dís back down, that didn't mean she wouldn’t be sorry she stood up to him in the first place. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. You are being unreasonable.”

“Am I? Am I truly being so unreasonable? Because from where I stand, I’m being perfectly reasonable.”

“You need to settle down, to marry and hopefully produce an heir. You’ve said so yourself. So, why is this such a terrible idea?”

He rolled his eyes as he paced along the length of the Throne Room. In the two years since he and his Company retook Erebor, and since he finally recovered from the near-fatal wounds he’d received in the process of said reclamation, the kingdom had come a long way. When they’d first returned, the once-mighty kingdom beneath the Lonely Mountain was little more than a ruin, having housed a treasure-obsessed dragon for over a century. It had taken work beyond measure to return the kingdom to its glory and for the first time since he and Balin had first come through the secret door, Thorin thought they might actually accomplish the task.

But, there were rumblings once more. The orc army, nearly decimated with the death of their leader, Azog the Defiler and his son and heir, Bolg, appeared to be growing stronger once again. And while Erebor was on its way to its return, it wasn’t there yet and its army was nowhere near large enough or powerful enough to take on a renewed orc power. Plus, he’d heard the rumors of Sauron, and if those rumors were true, Erebor could be in very real trouble in a very short time. 

However…

“She is elven,” Thorin said once he’d reached the far end of the large, rectangular chamber. Erebor’s throne, a massive block of elaborate carved obsidian, etched with gold and silver, was the only thing in the room and that was fine, as Thorin only usually came into it when he needed to think.

“So? The elves fought alongside you, didn't they?”

“She is the daughter of Thranduíl and I’d eat the Arkenstone if anyone told me he would be willing to allow his only daughter to come here.”

“There’s only one way to know. And Kíli said one of Thranduíl’s advisors brought up the possibility of an alliance between his family and ours. They took quite the hit themselves, if you remember. So apparently, he is quite open to the idea.”

He rubbed his forehead with one hand, a heavy sigh rising to his lips. Yes, he needed to think about marrying. And yes, Erebor’s army was only barely such. And finally, yes, an alliance between Erebor’s ruling family and Mirkwood’s ruling family would be wise and powerful. Especially now that the elves of Rivendell had been slowly taking leave of Middle Earth. They’d just begun their exodus, but he knew from his last visit to Rivendell that Elrond was also planning the time when he would join his kin.

But Thranduíl, of all people. The same smug princess king who’d simply tossed Thorin and his company into the Mirkwood dungeons over a perceived slightly that Thorin himself actually had nothing to do with. 

And now his sister, and his nephew, (and most likely his nephew’s wife, Tauriel, who had been a captain in the Mirkwood guard) were already making plans and testing the water for him to marry the princess king’s daughter. His only daughter. Who was, no doubt a spoiled and pampered princess to boot. 

“She’s very pretty,” Dís broke in, her voice slightly singsong in tone. Then, in her normal voice, she added, “At least, Kíli thought so.”

“Kíli thinks anything female is pretty.”

“Now, that is neither true nor fair.”

Dís was right. They’d traveled to Mirkwood only weeks earlier for Kíli and Tauriel’s wedding, where Thorin had caught a glimpse of Mirkwood’s only princess. Tall. Slim. Hair so blonde it looked almost white. Typical elf of the Woodland Realm. Pretty, but she probably knew it and he could only imagine how conceited she was as a result.

Still, this was one argument he knew he stood almost no chance of winning. Dís had thought her points through and perfectly so. Like it or not, he would most likely be marrying Eirlys of Mirkwood. 

He sighed, his shoulders slumping, and lowered his hand. “Dís, think about what you suggest? The Line of Durin would become half elven.”

“And the line of Thranduíl would become half dwarven.” She offered up a mischievous smile. “And I take a rather childish delight in that, myself.” 

“Of course you do.” He strolled back toward her, then skirted her to sink into the cold obsidian throne. “And you see no problem with this? None at all?”

“Thorin,” she moved closer, her hand coming to rest on his knee, “is the idea so abhorrent to you? I mean, you do have to marry sooner rather than later and if Kíli is to be believed, you could do far worse than Eirlys of Mirkwood.”

Despite what he’d said only minutes earlier, Kíli did have a eye for pretty girls, and Eirlys was most definitely striking from a distance. Up close, she was probably even more so. If nothing else, he’d at least enjoy gazing upon her. Small comfort, but if it was the only one, he’d take it.

But Thranduíl.

He drew in a deep breath. Exhaled slowly. Then met his sister’s gaze and he knew he was doomed. “What if she does not agree with this?”

“What if she does? Think of it, Thorin. Think of how much stronger Erebor will be, and how Mirkwood would be forever allied with us as well. This can only benefit us.”

“Which means I will never be rid of Thrandy.”

She didn't trouble to hide her smile. “No, you won’t. But… that might not necessarily be as terrible as you think.”

“Dís, you spent but a short time with him. Barely enough time for a conversation.”

“Oh, don't be silly. Of course I had more than a single conversation with him and I found him to be rather rather personable.”

“Even so.”

“No, no even so. If you insist on forcing a divide where one only exists in your mind, you will never be happy.”

“Dís.”

“Thorin.”

He just stared, and she stared right back. Seeing that he was not going to win this argument, arguing was wasted time and breath, and so he slowly bobbed his head. “Very well. I suppose it might be worth at least discussing it with him.” 

“Ah, at last, you’re seeing reason.” Dís grinned. “And I’ll wager she is not putting up that much of a fight about this, either.”

“You have lost your mind!”

Eirlys could only stare at her father, wondering if he truly had gone mad, for that was the only explanation for his ludicrous suggestion that she consider taking Thorin of Erebor as a husband.

But her father remained his usual cool, collected self, his blue eyes unblinking and his face void of emotion as he replied, “Why? Because I promise you that I am quite sane and this is a logical solution the problems at hand.”

“He is a dwarf, Father.”

“I am well aware of that, Eirlys.” He tapped his fingers on the woven branches that made up the arm of the woven sticks and vines that made up his throne. On those fingers, he wore several rings, one set with a gold and brown tiger’s eye stone, another that, like his throne, was woven vines set with a golden topaz. “But, as I know you are also well aware, an alliance with the dwarves would be to our advantage.”

“You speak of the Gundabad orcs, don’t you?” She didn't wait for him to nod, for she knew she was right. She’d overheard him and her older brother, Legolas discussing the orcs from the north the previous evening. “But orcs never come this far south.”

“They have been, though, and you know you heard that as well.”

Heat flitted through her at the stern look in his eyes and the definite scolding in his tone. But that didn't stop her from retorting, “Then allow me to fight, as you do Legolas.”

“No. I take no chances with you, Eirlys. And in Erebor, you would be safe, should our perimeter be breached.”

A small knot twisted in the pit of her belly. “You mean to simply send me away?”

“Of course not. Don’t be a fool.” He slowly rose and carefully made his way down the woven staircase to descend from the throne. He had to be careful because not only was the staircase curved, but he wore a ridiculously long robe of gold, green, and brown silk. His hair, the same nearly-white blond as hers, spilled over his shoulders and down his back like spun gold water, and was held out of his face partially by the crown of woven sticks and leaves, dotted with the same topaz and tiger’s eye as his rings. 

He stood only a few inches taller than her, shaking his head as he went on, “You are not being banished, only married.”

“To a dwarf.”

“It is not ideal, but elven royalty is at a premium these days and a suitable husband will not be found amongst those left. King Thorin will give you the life you should have, and that you will be safe, tucked beneath the Lonely Mountain, is only a bit more icing on the cake. He and I have had our differences, but he has since proven his worth and I would trust him with one of my most precious assets.”

She rolled her eyes. “Precious assets?”

That earned her a smile. “You do not agree?”

“You have gone mad.”

He let out a soft sigh, moving to drape his arm about her shoulders, a gesture he would not have done, had anyone else been in the throne room with them. He was loving, but reserved when others were about. After all, he had a reputation to uphold. 

“Eirlys, you must know that I have only your best interests in my heart.”

“By marrying me off to a dwarf?”

His smile faded. “Stop that. You met him at Tauriel and Kíli’s wedding and did not look down your nose at him then.”

Yes, she’d met him. Smiled and bobbed her head and then went off to dance with her friends, hardly giving the long-haired, rather shaggy-looking dwarf king a second thought. She had no idea what plans were going to be in the works following the rather modest wedding. 

“You didn't intend for me to take him as my husband then. And I don't quite understand why I can’t just stand alongside you and Legolas, should the orc army come this far south. You’ve let other women do so.”

“Enough now. You know full well why I will not allow it. You are not simply other women. You are my daughter. And I will protect you with every fiber of my being and if it means protecting this wood and those within it at the same time? I will do it. And in time, you will thank me. You will see.”

Eirlys offered up a long look. “I’ll not promise to not say I told you so, when you are wrong, you know.”

“I expect no less.”

“Good.”

“But, I have the feeling I won’t be wrong, either.”

She ignored that and the smug smile that accompanied his words. “So, when am I to be shipped off?”

Now it was Thranduíl’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’ll not be shipped anywhere. I will send word to Erebor that Thorin and his company should come here and we will work out the finer details at that point. But, you needn’t worry. The wedding will take place here.”

“Because that is my biggest concern. Where the wedding is to be held.” She pulled away, then turned to face him. “May I go then?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank you.” 

She was almost to the doorway of woven vines when Thranduíl called, “Eirlys?”

She paused, peering over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“You will see, this is for the best.”

She met his gaze and although she wasn't entirely happy with his decision, she knew that he did have her best interests at heart and would do nothing to put her in any danger. If anything, he was always overprotective of her and had been ever since her mother’s death. Knowing he did what he did out of love was enough to make her sigh softly as she nodded. “I know, Papa.”

His eyes softened and a hint of a paternal smile played at his lips. “Good.”

[lathalea]

Teaser Time: The White Raven ch6 is coming soon!

I would like to thank everyone who has supported me so far during my work on The White Raven fic, especially you, lovely people, yes, you who replied to my latest post about it. Your response was so overwhelmingly kind and really motivating 💕💕💕😭 Special thanks to @legolasbadass for being a great and extremely patient beta reader 💙

You gave me strength to continue writing this story and I have a little something for you...

✨💎 As a big THANK YOU 💎 ✨ I'd like to share a small snippet from Chapter 6 with you. Enjoy!

“He’s still breathing!”

“Thorin, wake up! Wake up, ye lazy bastard!” someone growled straight into his ear. “Damn it!”

“Dwalin, look, we stopped the bleeding.”

Those voices again. Pulling Thorin back into consciousness. Into the pain and emptiness.

“Let’s finish dressing his wound and then we’ll take ‘im to Oín,” the growling one said. 

“What’s that, Fili?” the young, familiar voice said.

“Where?”

“Over there, by that pointy rock on the other side of the river.” 

“Looks like a dead Warg to me,” the one very close to him rasped out. A pair of hands kept on doing something to his chest. It hurt. He wanted it to stop. 

“Too small for a Warg, Dwalin. It’s… by Mahal’s beard!”

“Where are you going, Fili? Wait for me!” The first voice sounded irritated.

A sound of hurried footsteps. Iron-heeled boots against ice. 

“Those two can’t sit in one place in peace if their life depended on…” the raspily-sounding one grunted. “I tell ya, Thorin, when ye’re better, we’ll send them on guard duty. First morning shift for a month. That’ll teach ‘em!”

Somehow, it made Thorin want to smile. But now, even smiling hurt.

“It’s a raven! So big! Look at its wings! Why are you staring, Fili?” the youthful voice reached his ears again.

“I think it’s… the White Raven.”

“What?! It’s just a fairy tale!”

“I’ve seen this raven before, Kili,” confidence rang in the second voice. “I think it followed us on the way to Erebor. It helped me fight off a Warg-rider in the Misties just before the eagles came.”

Thorin took a reluctant breath. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. 

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t look good. There is so much blood… Is it dead, Fili?”

“Let me see… That’s a nasty wound.”

Thorin’s muscles tensed. He wanted to open his eyes. He wanted to speak. But his body didn't want to obey.

And then he heard two gasps at the same time.

“What’s happening?”

“Do you see it too, Fili?”

“It’s… it’s magic!”

“No, it’s a shapeshifter!”

“Look! Look!”

“A woman?!”

Both voices intermingled in Thorin’s exhausted mind, making less and less sense. He needed to act. He needed to… He breathed in. The air smelled like snowdrops.

“Thorin! Ye’re back! And here I was thinkin’…” A tattooed forehead and a bushy moustache appeared before his eyes. “Stop squeezing my hand so hard!”

“Carra…” Thorin managed to rasp out. He could barely keep his eyes open.

“What are ye sayin’?” Dwalin demanded.

“Help…. her…” He tried again. “She is…”

“What? I can barely hear ye.” The last wisps of strength were leaving him. He could feel the darkness beckoning to him once again.

“Yasthûnê…” Thorin articulated slowly. “My… wife.”

The full chapter is going to drop in the beginning of next week, Thorin and Carra can't wait to share their tale with you 💙

Tagging @legolasbadass @linasofia @xxbyimm @quiall321 @i-did-not-mean-to @evenstaredits @exhausted-humxn-being @mrsdurin @emrfangirl @aduialel @littlesweetdressmaker @shiinata-library @estethell @heilith @sotwk @groovycalzoneroadmaker @sazzlep @ponycactus @nokisuu @the-lonely-pillow @myeaglesongart @i-am-the-raven-queen @ruthoakenshield @asgardianhobbit98 @thespiritoflife @justfollowtheroad @fizzyxcustard @knittastically @mcchiberry @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady and everyone who is interested in this story (stupid tumblr said I couldn't tag more people, sorry) 💙

[hackoftheyear]

umm humxn?? Feels pretty terfy 😐

[stuzoclothing]

Being Kind is being Humxn! Squad, say hello to @jkiillem one of our #StuzoAmbassadors rocking our ‘Humxnkind’ tee! Available now at Stuzoclothing.com 🛍️ (at Los Angeles, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/CrwUgmBvcjp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[sendinglovexx]

E T H E R E A L

september 21, 2023

I am more than this body, this vessel

In this frame, there are havens, I nestle

More than my anxiety that translates to RBF

All encompassing emotions that spiral like a treble clef

I am more than a sex symbol, a mortal

Between my legs I transcend time + space, I’m a portal

More than a pretty face that I didn’t choose

I can snatch souls with one look, I am a muse

I am more than my trauma + it’s repercussions

I come from warrior blood + that’s not up for discussion

I am more than a mother, more like the Empress archetype

So fuck what you read in your Bible, cause that’s a mistype

More than a wife, I’m the Bonnie to her Clyde

Loud + proud, we don’t do closets, we don’t hide

I am more than a shepherd, my alchemy is Maktub

My mere hands can heal, Reiki infused in a back rub

More than these walls that guard my interior castle

I yearn for connection, but for most, piercing them is a hassle

I am more than my unforgiving ancestral history

The God complex of those who came before me remains a mystery

More than the magnitude of grief my family has had to endure

I am my father‘s daughter, + that, is my cure

More than the feeling you get in a cold, concrete jungle

More like a palm tree studded horizon with a sunset that’s bright, yet humble

I am more than my humxn form in this physical realm of unjust

My soul is not of this world, compressed stardust

More than my feminine appearance that has come to fruition

My masculine is woven with the energy of the Magician

I am more than the box society puts me in

Challenging norms + breaking cycles of generations

More than the damsel in distress at the movie’s end

I’m the hero of my own story, like ‘coach put me in’

I am more than a resounding example of strength

I’m soft, ethereal, so I often stay at arms length

More than the voice of a womxn

More like a lucid dream, pouring out from a pen

I may be a jack of all trades + a master at none

But I am unapologetically + unequivocally me, the only one

So you may be intimidated to dive into my depths

But the choice was sink or swim + this is my breath

- K

[very-uncorrect]

TERFs be like "I am a humxn"

[apocalypsehere]

apocalypse here

music by Stuff Studio

photography by Sharon Mansur

videography by Xitlali, Stuff Studio and Mai'a Williams

co-performers: Rowan Emmanuel and Xitlali

production manager: Brian Knouft

****

a multi-media installation/performance/shrine centered on their relationship to the Driftless natural landscape, the sacredness of Black and First Nations’ lives and histories in this region and globally, the healing traditions that they learned from their grandmother and elders in rural South Carolina. 

This work explores questions such as: How do we exist in the face of uncertainty, conflict, trauma, and death? How do we find meaning in crises? How do we rest and celebrate? How do we talk to our ancestors and our children? 

Mai’a Williams is a fiscal year 2022 recipient of a Creative Support for Individuals grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board. This activity is made possible by the voters of Minnesota through a grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board, thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts and cultural heritage fund.

This activity is made possible through a grant from the Southeastern Minnesota Arts Council thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts & cultural heritage fund.

****

Xitlali (she/they) is a Queer, reindigenized Mexican-American activist living in Baltimore, MD. She is working to strengthen Land and Food Sovereignty for Indigenous (Black and Brown) Peoples across the USA using finance as a tool. Raised in both the rural countryside of Mexico and the urban landcapes of the DC region, they have always walked between the boundaries of ancestral living and corporate america (believe me, it was a confusing childhood!). In addition to her professional work, they practice photography/videography to convey the beauty of Ancestrality, Creativity, and Resilience in a context of voracious Capitalist Empire that seeks to not only destroy our physical environment, but our possibility for a Future.

rowan (they / them) is an indigenous mixed, Xicanx/SWANA, queer, trans, non-binary, neurodivergent, disabled community herbalist & bodyworker, facilitator, mixed media art/puppet, full spectrum support companion and humxn dandelion puff. Their work focuses on transition, connection, laughter and liberation. When not working, they are off listening to and smiling with the elements and ancestors around us, growing food/medicine or chilling with their animal and humxn friends. Sometimes a mushroom or a beet, in rest + play.

StuffStudio (he&she) knows art is valuable and should always be accessible. Art is power, wisdom, and storytelling. Art has form, can be formless, is real and unreal, light hearted, heavy-hitting, soft spoken, delightful and enraged. Stuff is a human making art, making music, making movement and making experiences.

[mxenigmatic]

What a wonderful world?

We're all looking for love yet pursue hate onto others. We claim in our virtues that we strive for peace in the world yet witness war and stay silent of blood on our hands. We teach our kids be yourself, but only accept conformity. We are all on a journey to find home yet turn others away asking for help when there're lost.

You say you want to be happy, yet you make others sad. We are all hiding parts of who we are, yet we want to be truly seen. You say you accept me, yet only embrace parts of my identity. You believe god loves all, except for x,y,z.

You call yourself a person of moral, value & beliefs but are quick to harm, kill & destroy those who disagree with you. People want trust, but any moment will slander, defame & gossip about you. Your door states "Welcome to all" but strip your authenticity to the side entrance.

We live in a upside down world, one conquered by your religious intrusion.

I gave up on the idea of saving the world, if I can barely pull myself together. How can you fight for what's right, when you witness all around you: abuse, corruption of power, poverty, discrimination, the list goes on.

Mindless & souls of void often approach you and say "you deserve better" but if you are constantly put down, can I believe I'll receive more? We are told we're special when we are young, but maybe we aren't important, as there's too many people on this planet for us to be all the focus of the universe.

[tsengratio]

happy trxns* day of visibilty

*gender neutral terminology for trans

[if-only-angels-could-prevail]

GOD!!!!!!!!!!

[middleearthpixie]

Something in the Night ~ Chapter Twenty-Nine

Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory. 

Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it. 

Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @legolasbadass @fizzyxcustard

@xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically

@notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78

@ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972

@glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

@sazzlep @night-ace @lyl1pad @mistresskayla-blog1

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

Thorin strode back into the Great Hall, his emotions a maelstrom of fury and despair and what he was fairly certain was the shards of his broken heart stabbing him from the insides.

As he crossed into the Great Hall, Elisin emerged from the crowd with a smile on her lips that personified the word smug. Oh, her eyes were wide and filled with a feigned innocence, but that smile spoke volumes.

“Why are you still here?” he growled, staring at her in disbelief. She had stones bigger than most of the men he knew, to approach him as if thinking he’d actually be happy to see her.

“Well, because, with her gone now, I thought—”

“With her gone? Have you gone completely mad? Are you truly that stupid?” His voice rose with each word, his hands clenching as he spoke. “Did you think I would welcome you back? That I would just simply forget the woman I want to marry?”

“But, Thorin, I—”

“No!” The word rang out, reverberated throughout the hall with enough force that everyone fell silent, watching with great interest. 

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean just that! Take yourself from my sight and from Erebor and do not ever think to come back here. You are no longer welcome and I would rather die alone than spend one more moment in your presence.” He stepped away from her, afraid he’d raise a hand to her otherwise. “Dwalin!”

Dwalin appeared as if by magic and without being told, he caught Elisin by the arm. “Ye’ve done more than enough damage here, ye wench,” he growled, tugging none too gently on her, “and now, ye’ll be leaving us for good.”

Her protests rang out but Thorin ignored them, ignored her, ignored everyone around him as he stalked from the Great Hall. As he passed by Dís, she started to say something, but thought better of it as he stormed passed her. He saw nothing. Ignored everyone he came upon. He just wanted to be left alone. 

Over the next few days, everyone in Erebor steered clear of Thorin, lest they wished to have their head bitten off for the slightest of things. Even he couldn’t remember the last time his mood was so black. Not even when he was in the grips of dragon sickness and paranoid beyond reason about the Arkenstone, was he in so foul a mood. 

Day after day found him up on the ramparts, staring off toward Dale. Every instinct he possessed fairly screamed at him to get to Dale as quickly as possible and right everything with Nina. But, he knew her. And he knew that it would change nothing. She would stand behind her sentiments.

But that also meant he’d have nothing to lose by trying again, didn't it?

“Thorin?”

He didn't start at the sound of Dís’ voice, didn't turn away from where he gazed. “What is it?”

“Are you going to just spend the rest of your days up here?”

“I’m in no mood for a lecture, Dís.” Now he turned toward her, shaking his head. “So spare us both, if you don't mind.”

“I received word from Elisin that she made it safely back to Ered Luin.”

“I care not what becomes of her,” he replied flatly, shaking his head. “Because of her, I’ve lost—” His throat squeezed shut and he shook his head again. “You know what I’ve lost.”

“Perhaps there is one here you might—”

Now his gut roiled. “There is none,” he replied, his voice low. “I would rather die alone.”

“Thorin,” her hand came to rest on his shoulder, “surely, in time, when this is all but a bitter memory, you will be open to choosing another.”

“I want no one else.”

“Well, of course you don’t now. This is all so fresh and raw. But, in time, when the wound heals, you may feel differently.” Her fingers tightened on him. “And of the two of us, who knows this better?”

She had a point. She’d lost her husband, Vili, at Khazad-dûm, so she did indeed know of which she spoke. Even so, he wasn’t in a generous mood, growling, “I am not you,” before turning back to stare at Dale.

“Thorin, you—”

“I am done discussing it,” he told her, stepping back from the parapet.

“But perhaps—”

“I said, I am done.” He moved around her to stride back toward the fortress. “Excuse me. I need to be alone with my thoughts for a while.”

He didn't wait for her to reply, didn't wait for her to protest, but just walked on, ignoring everyone and everything as he made his way back indoors and down to the level where the family’s apartments were.

At the far end of the corridor, he stopped and rapped on the door. “Fíli?”

“Uncle?” Footsteps sounded and then Fíli tugged open the door. “What is it?”

“I need to speak with you. Do you have a moment?”

A look of suspicion flittered across Fíli’s face, had him narrowing his blue eyes. “Why do I have the feeling I know what this is about?”

Fighting down his impatience, Thorin gesturing to the flat’s interior. “May I?”

Fíli hesitated, then nodded and stepped aside. “Of course.”

Thorin stepped into his nephew’s flat, but before he could say anything, Fíli said, “I hope you’ve not come to tell me I’m about to be crowned king.”

“Actually, I’ve come to tell you just that.”

Fíli’s eyes went wide. “But, I told you, I’m not ready for this. We’ve talked about it.”

“No one is ever ready until it happens but trust me, you can do this. And you will do this, for you will have no choice.”

As he spoke, Thorin moved to the sofa in the middle of the room and sank down onto the arm. “I don't belong here any longer,” he said after a long silence, his hands clasped between his knees. “Perhaps I never did, now that I think about it. I’ve spent more time away from Erebor than I have in it, and more time being Thorin Oakenshield than I have been King Thorin II.”

“And where does Nina Carren fit into all of this? Because I know she does somewhere, judging by the mood you’ve been in since she left.”

“She does, but that has no bearing on how I’ve felt, as I’ve been considering this decision for far longer.”

Fíli rolled his eyes. “Of course it doesn’t.”

Thorin heard the hints of derision in his nephew’s voice and while irritation flared, he managed to tamp it down. “One day, Fíli, you will understand. At least, I hope you will.”

“Well, I don't now and I don't wish to know any more than I wish to be king.”

“Fíli, listen to me,” Thorin rose, moving to stand before him, his hands on Fíli’s shoulders, “you are ready for this. I’ve made certain to prepare you as best I could and now the time has come for you to step up.”

“Uncle, I don't understand why she can’t just come and live here. In time, surely everyone will see—”

“She has no wish to spend her days having her every move and word dissected. She has no wish to have people whispering behind her back and being cold to her face and I will not put her through it. My actions were what led to Esgaroth’s destruction and why she thought to accept Azog’s bounty. So, if I wish to be with her, it cannot be here.”

“And you wish to be there more than you do here?”

Thorin slowly nodded. “I do, yes. Fíli, I want to be with her and if that means stepping down and allowing you to ascend the throne, I am fine with it. I am confident in your abilities and I’ll only be in Dale, if you need any advice.”

“Uncle, are you absolutely certain you wish to do this?”

“Again, yes. I’ve given this much thought. Do you think I would make such a decision rashly?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then you should trust I know what I’m doing.”

“Thorin, I—it’s a big responsibility.”

“Believe me,” Thorin replied with a grin, “I am well aware of what it is. All too well aware, in fact. But, you are ready. I trust you, Fíli.”

“And if I have any trouble?”

“Come and talk to me and I’ll assist in any way I can.”

“Do you promise this?”

Thorin chuckled. “You haven’t made me promise anything since you and your brother were children.”

“You always kept those promises.”

“And I keep this one as well. If you need me, come and call on me. And if I can help, I’ll do just that.”

A heavy sigh rose to Fíli’s lips and his shoulders sagged ever so slightly. “Then I suppose there is nothing else I can say but I will try not to disappoint you.”

“I don’t think you ever needed to worry about that, Fíli. You’ve never disappointed me.”

“Not even when I stepped off the boat back in Esgaroth?”

“No. You were concerned with your brother and rightfully so.”

Fíli met his gaze, his eyes more serious than Thorin had ever seen and in that instant, he knew he was leaving Erebor in the most capable of hands. That Fíli wasn't overconfident and arrogant enough to believe he knew everything there was to know about everything. 

“Are you certain I’m ready?”

“Fíli, there is no one else in whose hands I would feel comfortable leaving Erebor. You are ready and you will be fine.”

“I wish I could be as sure as you.”

“You will be, in time.” Thorin leaned in to press his forehead to Fíli’s. “And I am not so far away, remember. You will be welcome to call any time.”

Fíli nodded. “I hope so.”

“You will be. I promise. Now,” Thorin straightened up and stepped back, “I should go find your mother and tell her.”

“She will not be pleased.”

“No, she won’t. But, she will get over it in time.” He smiled as he moved to the door. “I leave Erebor in the safest of hands. You’re ready, Fíli. I wouldn’t step down if I didn't believe that.”

Fíli looked as if he was going to say something, but then, lips pressed together, simply nodded. Thorin understood. He felt the same. But, he had to face Dís and so he might as well just get it over with.

“Nina? Are you up?”

“I am, yes.” Nina turned away from the window at Sigrid’s gentle rap on her closed door. “Come in, if you like.”

The door swung open with a gentle squeak of slightly rusted hinges and Sigrid stood at the threshold. “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m fine. Numb, I suppose.”

“Still no word from Thorin?”

She shook her head. “I don’t expect any, Sig. He knows deep down, a match between us would never work. Not now. It would have been difficult enough as it was, but once everyone in Erebor learned the truth about me? Impossible.”

“Well, he could have fought harder for you.”

“No, he couldn't have.” Nina brushed by her friend as she made her way out into the sitting area. “I wouldn’t let him. He’s not stepping down for me, of all people. That would be madness.”

“Why do you do that, Nina? Why do you think so little of yourself that you see yourself as worthless?”

“It’s enough I’m of Man. It’s enough that I’m from Esgaroth, the younger daughter of a poor fisherman. But, I tried to collect the bounty on his head, Sig. You know that. And you know that something like that is rather difficult to forget or ignore.” 

She moved to the fire, crackling softly on the kitchen hearth, and hung the half-full kettle to heat the water in it. “He is their king and I would have assassinated him. They would never think they could trust me, no matter how long I might be around them. They would always look at me and wonder and whisper and if Thorin should be injured or be taken ill? Just imagine what would happen.”

Leaning against the sofa’s back, Sigrid sighed, crossing her arms. “They would realize how foolish they were when he didn't end up dead.”

“Ah, but what family, royal or otherwise, would be willing to take that chance?” Nina offered up a long look that brought a hint of color to Sigrid’s otherwise fair cheeks. “It’s rather difficult to fault anyone for not wishing to risk that.”

“Oh, I know, But… I know you, too. And honestly, if you were going to kill him, you had ample opportunity between here and Rivendell. They are mad to ignore that.”

“I know. And I said as much, but still… the risk, you know.”

“Well, I think it terribly unfair.”

“That’s because you are biased.” The kettle began whistling, so she lifted it from the fire to pour into the teapot, then added the tea to let it steep. 

“Nina, would you have truly ended his life?”

“At first?” Nina nodded. “I absolutely would have, yes. I was so angry with him for what happened that night Smaug torched Esgaroth. I was angry with him over losing Lenna and Rhys and Ena, for losing my mother. I would have happily done it for nothing, but Tarog’s bounty was a nice bonus.”

She sank into one of the chairs, her hands folded as they came to rest against the tabletop. “But, it didn't take long for me to realize he wasn't evil. He hadn’t meant to unleash a dragon on us, and he wasn't well when he did it. And the more I came to know him, the less I wanted revenge. Besides, what purpose would it have served? My family is still gone. And once I realized that, it wasn't much longer until I saw him in a different light as well.”

Sigrid sat across from her. “This is the part I like.”

“And then we were in Mirkwood and… there is something magical about that wood. Not the same sort of magic as one feels in Rivendell, and some of it is dark magic, but where it’s white?” Nina sighed softly, memories of her first kiss with Thorin, there in the woods, sliding through her mind. “It’s almost as if the forest itself played a role in bringing us together. And it was so wonderful, you know?”

“No,” Sigrid shook her head, a knowing smile on her lips, “I don't know at all. I live vicariously through you, remember.”

Nina chuckled despite her heavy heart. “I know, but trust me, it was wonderful. All of it. And somehow, I don't think it could ever be recaptured. And I know I have no wish to recapture it with anyone else.”

Sigrid reached over to cover Nina’s hands with hers. “Perhaps in time, you’ll feel differently.”

“No,” Nina replied softly, shaking her head, “I won’t. Thorin ruined me for any other men, Sig. It’s that simple.”

Sigrid’s hand tightened over hers and despite her sunken spirits, Nina appreciated Sigrid’s efforts. It had been such a long time since she’d had any friends, and finding Sigrid helped her in so many ways since her return to this part of Middle Earth. 

With that, she drew her hands away and stood to fix her tea, and as she did, Sigrid also rose. “Harald will be wanting to know when you plan on coming back to work. What should I tell him?”

“I’ll come in tomorrow if he needs me to. I’ve had enough time off to wallow and he’s been more than patient with me.”

“Fair enough. Then I will see you later. Don’t wallow too much longer.”

Wisps of steam curled away from the tea’s shimmering surface and Nina smiled as she lifted the cup. “I’ll do my best. Go, before you’re late.”

“I am.” The laugh accompanying her words faded when she pulled open the door and Nina’s heart nearly leapt from her chest when Sigrid said, “Thorin? What are you doing here?”

Her mouth went dry as she rounded the corner to the front of the sitting room and saw Thorin in the doorway beyond Sigrid. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks, his clothes wrinkled and rumpled, his braids not quite so smooth as they usually were. Purplish smudges darkened beneath his eyes and his beard was not so neatly kept. He looked how she felt and her heart pounded with such force, black dots actually danced before her eyes. 

Somehow, she unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth to murmur, “Thorin, why are you here?”

“Because I’ve found I don’t care to be in Erebor if you aren’t there, mesmel,” he replied as if Sigrid didn't stand between them, his voice no louder than hers and she wondered if his heart raced in his chest, if black dots swam before his eyes as well. “I’ve found I don't care for much when I am there and you are here and we need to fix that. Now.”

Blooms of color rose along Sigrid’s high cheekbones. “I’ll just let the two of you be,” she said, squeezing past Thorin.

Her pulse thundering in her ears, Nina swallowed hard and stepped back into the sitting room. “Come in, please.”

He did, closing the door behind him and as it clicked shut, she said, “Does anyone know you’re here? Or will your legions break down my door, convinced I’ve beheaded you or something?”

“No one will be breaking down any doors,” he replied softly, “unless the king orders it.”

“And you haven’t, I’ll suppose.”

He held her gaze. “I haven’t, but then again, I am no longer the king.”

She just stared at him, for there was no way he’d said what she thought he’d said. He did not abdicate his throne. He’d have to be mad to do something like that. She must’ve heard him wrong, and so she waited for him to clarify. 

But instead, he offered up a hint of a smile. “I thought you’d brain me for doing it, mesmel.”

“You did not do that, Thorin.”

“But I did. Fíli is now the king of Erebor.”

“Have you gone completely mad?”

“Perhaps. It wouldn’t be the first time, you know.”

“Thorin, you cannot do that. You cannot not be the king any longer.”

“Of course I can and before you fight me on it, know this, I’ve thought about this longer and harder than any other decision I’ve ever made. And I am at peace with my choice. It was the only one I could make.”

“But… to abdicate… Thorin, I can’t let you do this.”

“Much as I adore you, Nina, you have no say in it. The decision was mine and I’ve made it.”

“But—”

“No but, either.”

“But—”

“I mean it.”

“Thorin, why?”

“Because, I’d rather be here, with you, than sitting on a throne by myself. That’s why.”

Her eyes stung and she swallowed hard against the tightness in her throat. “But, Erebor was what you sought for so long. It’s why you crossed from one end of Middle Earth to the other.”

“It was.” he nodded as he reached for her, snaking his arms about her waist. “And I found it. But, in my last trek from one end of Middle Earth to the other, I found something far more important.”

“But how can you be certain you wont’t regret it?”

“Nina, I know myself well enough now to know what I might regret and above all else, losing you is my greatest regret.”

She didn't resist as he drew her to his chest, but instead let her arms drape about his neck. Part of her couldn’t believe he was there, that he’d given up so much for her, of all people. The other part of her wanted to throttle him for giving up so much for her, of all people.

“So, what will you do now?”

“I supported myself and Dís and the boys by working as a blacksmith in Ered Luin. I can do that again right here, or we can travel about and if we find somewhere else we prefer to live, I can do it there. We would be fine.”

“We?”

“We.” His eyes softened. “For you have to know I still wish to marry you. Because I do, you know. I love you, Nina.” 

But before she could say anything, he bent to her and his lips found hers in a kiss that began soft and gentle, but quickly deepened. She melted against him, tightening her hold on him and when he swept her up into his arms, she drew back far enough to whisper, “The door on your left,” and let him spirit her to her room. 

They fell together on her narrow bed, just as they’d done in the infirmary in Erebor. Only this time, Nina didn't worry about being overheard. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was Thorin smiling down at her as he murmured, “So, will you marry me now, mesmel?”

And all that mattered was how she smiled back at him and whispered, “Yes.”

The End

[pickleslice]

mxtants as the gender neutral version . x-mxn

[stuzoclothing]

Squad!! One of the amazing prizes that was gifted to @wellcoachbeeks for becoming Season 3 Winner of @theandromodeltv was a photoshoot with us! Check it out! Much congratulations are in order for the hard work, perseverance and tenacity displayed by this amazing humxn! 👑💐👑 More photos loading all week! 👑📸👑 . Photographers: Emily: @em.zzzz_ Diego: @__dgon Stylist: @dawnstouches Brands: @stuzoclothing @theandromodeltv @thequeer26 . #Stuzo #StuzoSquad #Stuzoclothing #Q26 #TheAndromodeltv #Dawnstouches #Winner #LiveYourTruth #Model #Photoshoot #LA #FauxtheCrown #Collection #Wcw #HCW #WHM #👑 (at Los Angeles, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cp0nf6yPbR7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[villagegrim]

Opinion on aliens?

i LOVE the idea of aliens.. i listened to a podcast the other day about if they are real, where are they? It was very cool. I’d like to think they’re out there somewhere, but maybe not how we’d expect them to be. Maybe not so humanoid

[ziggystarmonster]

I love gender neutral Pokémon