#longbeard clan

[y97dgu]

More of Dís and her family. my favorite girl ❤️

[y-rhywbeth2]

Lore: Dwarven Culture

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

Overview | Culture | Specific Cultures | Magic | Religion | History -- WIP

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I found this in my drafts, and apparently I forgot to post this ages back. So here's a compilation of the dwarf Realmslore I can get my hands on.

Touchstones of dwarven culture, like: language, the Clan, marriage, celebrating your 40th birthday by beating the shit out of a dragon with your mates, beard care - which is unsurprisingly a Big Deal in dwarven culture (PS, don't pull a dwarven monk's hair - they hide barbed wire in it)

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The dwarven name for their own people is Ahrraem. A dwarf is an arl, and the plural is ahra. They also refer to themselves as "the Folk" in Common.

Language: The dwarven language is called Arltah. Much like gnomes, with whom they seem to have linguistic overlap, the dwarven accent is described as a brogue, with flat pronunciation that emphasises the stressed syllables. It is, however, louder and clearer than the humming tones of the gnomish accent. The written form uses an angular, runic script called Dethek. It's written in a similar pattern to draconic - The sentence begins with a rune representing the dwarf who authored the writing (or a banner), and then the rest will spiral outwards in a tight circular pattern wrapping around that name.

The central symbol may also portray something else. Grave markers feature the face/s of the grave's occupant/s. Stories and histories will often portray a scene from the tale being told. Sometimes the image is just decoration.

Dwarves prefer not to write on perishable surfaces, and most carve into flat stones intended for this purpose, called runestones (in Common). A runestone is an inch-thick and circular or diamond in shape. Metal may also be used, but when it is the metal must be pure (gold, silver, etc) and perfectly manufactured.

A term of respect amongst dwarves is "longbeard," implying that they are an experienced and wise elder one can depend upon. Its opposite, insulting term, is "no-beard" or "shorthair."

While the taller races seem to think the shorter statures of dwarves (and gnomes and hin) is a reason to look down on them or treat them differently, dwarves themselves place no value on an individuals height whatsoever. Nevertheless, calling a dwarf "little" will be recognised for the slight it is. Calling them small and human in the same breath - "little man" - is an even greater insult.

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Dwarves are subterranean by nature, and instinctually uncomfortable in the open above-ground, and if they can't live underground they'll create above-ground structures with interiors that mimic the conditions of being underground (the effect can be observed amongst dwarven diaspora in human cities).

They also have an aversion to the ocean, which can be strong enough to manifest as hatred and fear that's outright superstitious. Dwarves will wholeheartedly insist that the ocean is evil and it is out to get you. ...But in fairness, as Umberlee is the ocean deity they're... not wrong.

Dwarves are infamous for being prickly, stubborn, distrustful and greedy. The last trait is confused by humans and halflings to be the same as their own desire to amass personal wealth - and they're wrong. It isn't about the monetary value or the luxury and comfort it purchases, dwarves are instinctually drawn to the skill that went into a piece.

Dwarven philosophy has been built around this, and holds that everything can be better than it is: there is not a thing in the world that cannot be improved upon (and helping things improve is a wonderful thing). Elven philosophies of leaving things - especially nature - as untouched as possible are alien in the eyes of the Ahrraem, who are left to assume it's because the elves can't be bothered to put in the effort of improving things (especially because the dwarves know that elves can produce works of expert craftsmanship when they chose to).

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Dwarves have some... interesting stereotypes about other races:

All halflings are liars by inherent nature (as are orcs and giants) -

A human will sleep with anything, given the excuse. Humans will also tarnish metals by touching them, so keep them away from your crafts. -

Elves clearly have the same love of fine crafts that the Ahrraem do, but as they're too lazy to make it themselves, they put on a front of indifference to get others to let down their guard. Then they steal the hard work of others. Don't let them touch enchanted objects - they fickle fey bastards will suck the magic out.

On the other hand, dwarves hold a great deal of respect for gnomes, who have a similar love of craftsmanship, and the two have always gotten along throughout history. Their only flaw in dwarven eyes is the cultural love of illusion magic, which is cowardly and deceitful.

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Entertainment:

Dancing is a major part of dwarven culture - their traditional music is rhythmic, heavy with drumbeats and metallic percussion instruments, while being devoid of soft sounds and wind instruments. While their dances are private affairs kept out of view of non-dwarves, dwarves also enjoy watching public dance performances put on by other races.

Instruments that feature strings are not usually plucked by hand. They resemble pianos, with the strings tied to keys which are struck with implements akin to drumsticks (in the form of small hammers). If the settlement has access to volcanic vents - or similar structures that pressurised gases can be filtered through - dwarves may construct large pipe organs. Many, smaller, versions of these instruments look something like accordions with metal strings.

Vocal accompaniment takes the form of drones and plainsong chants.

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Dwarves have their own adventuring bands known as "brotherhoods" - the name started because groups of young dwarven men would get together and go out questing and seeking danger and riches to impress their prospective brides. Dwarven women totally ignored that part, decided it looked like fun and formed their own brotherhoods. Many tales about dwarven adventurers involve a young dwarven woman heading out to rescue her SO from a dragon, or whatever nonsense he's gotten himself into. Brotherhoods may be single gender or mixed gender teams, but they are referred to as such regardless. Some of them have included non-dwarves.

Brotherhoods are treated a lot like sports teams, with their own supporters and rival brotherhoods. Individual members, and possibly the whole team, may achieve celebrity status.

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Society:

Dwarven culture values loyalty to clan and blood ties over all other bonds (although these things are certainly valuable), although in practice individuals don't follow that pattern reliably.

The Clan: Historically, the clan was the centre which all dwarven life revolved around. Over time - especially in Shield dwarven culture - this has loosened. For many dwarves, their clan is more of a social club one is born into, and you get together for family gatherings and share a drink and maybe play cards or something. In the furthest North, some shield dwarves have abandoned the concept altogether.

The generic term for the head of a clan is the chief, although there are variant terms in the Northern and Southern hemisphere.

Clans have appointed champions, "the fists of the clan" elite dwarven warriors who have proved themselves in tests of combat to earn the position. They maintain the clan's police forces

Clans are overseen by the elders - those who wield influence due to some combination of personal accomplishment, wealth and/or age. This council votes on clan policy - traditionally a marriage must be approved by the elders to be legitimised in dwarven society, and they have the right to exile those they don't approve of (which may happen if a dwarf ignores them and goes ahead with marrying a match they don't approve of.) However, prior to the Thunder Blessing, when dwarven fertility dropped so low that the Folk almost went extinct, the elders lost a significant amount of influence in this manner. No clan could afford to exile their members lightly, and any and every marriage that could possibly provide children was desperately needed.

A dwarven "house" refers to either the ruling family within a clan, or the ruling clan of a dwarven settlement that contains multiple clans. In such cases the current ruler will not be referred to as "king/queen" but with a lesser noble title such as "duke/duchess." Most royal lines have been long since lost, and the vast majority of dwarven rulers are elected. Even those who have inherited based on their bloodline won't be able to hold their throne if the populace doesn't want them there.

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Traditionally children are raised communally in tight family units, with clan elders overseeing their upbringing and education and planning their future. Education usually involves literacy and training in a trade, or multiple and the age of majority is 40. Each adult is expected to be capable of doing their part to support themselves, their family, and their clan.

A coming of age rite for dwarves it the Dragonmoot: several score of young dwarves (plus some non-dwarven adventuring friends, if they'd like to pitch in) head out and engage in good natured bout of dragon slaying. Yes, you're allowed to do this at level one; the trick is that these are heavily organised affairs to ensure nobody dies a stupid wasteful death and everybody gets to go home a hero. You'll be fighting the likes of young whites and greens with a large mixture of support backing them up (clerics, warriors, rogues, mages), not ancient red wyrms with armies at their beck and call.

Courtship and Marriage: Dwarves, like elves, refer to their spouses as their "mates," or as "wives/husbands/spouses."

The traditional dwarven wedding is a very family-heavy affair. Anybody who can't be there on account of being dead will be represented by their weapons, sitting in the audience. The ceremony includes a blessing chant; the recitation of both dwarves' entire family line from the most famous known ancestor down to the dwarf getting marries, to remind them of the proud line that they are continuing, and that they have a duty to.

Courtship begins with sending gifts of poems, battle spoils and/or jewellery crafted by the dwarf's own hand, in the hope of impressing the target of affection with one's skill. Hopefully this becomes mutual, and this gift exchange will continue for years. If they're still interested, the dwarves will begin living and working together (be that adventuring or in a more mundane work situation). This is a trial period, so that the dwarves can learn each other's personalities in-depth and get a feel for how well they live together. If this trial period is successful then marriage follows.

Marriage is the province of the goddess Berronar Truesilver, and generally the marriage is sealed with the exchange of two silver rings (her holy symbol). If either (or both) of the dwarves involved are entering this marriage with less than honest intentions the deity will cause the ring/s to tarnish and crumble before all present.

An alternate form of marriage available to dwarves is blood-betrothal, which is less official and more popular with those who are less keen on ceremony and clan duty. The betrothal must be witnessed by at least one dwarf and officiated and sanctioned by a noble (who can be of any race - they don't need to be dwarven). The spouses-to-be mingle their blood and exchange a kiss, before whispering their names to one another. They turn to the witnesses and declare themselves, with their full names, as each other's mates. Thus the marriage is official.

Married dwarves are not expected to live together, and many may live and work separately, making time for each other now and then.

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Beards are a vital status symbol in dwarven culture - enough that honour duels can and will be fought over insults to one's facial hair. They avoid trimming them, as the length of one's beard shows one's age (and thus life experience). You can generally spot the dwarf in charge by the length and ostentatiousness of their beard. Damage to one's beard by any source other than worthy combat - or worse, the complete loss of it - is the ultimate faux pass and a mark of supreme shame that one would be so careless. Having your beard trimmed short is a form of punishment, and the punishment for treason is having it completely shaved off.

Beards are also a form of self-expression, and every generation has its own fashions. Styles involving weaving and/or sewing the hair is almost exclusively seen on dwarven women, and forms an important part of social life: monthly hair days are overseen by family matriarchs, as the clan women discuss family business and forge diplomatic ties as they do each others' hair and beards.

In modern times, dwarven women living outside of their people's strongholds tend to go cleanshaven under pressure of non-dwarven beauty standards. Dwarven women living in more patriarchal areas of Faerûn, who would rather not deal with presure to conform to outsider's standards or have human men questioning their capabilities as warriors and craftsmen (which is traditional "men's work" in human eyes) grow their beards out and pass themselves off as men to the outsiders in order to dodge the pressure and potential harassment. Short beards and goatees have also come into fashion amongst women; although conservative dwarves find this casting aside of tradition to be horrifying.

Wire is often used in styling hair and beards in order to keep them in shape, and if a dwarf is going into combat then they are likely to use barbed wire - a trend popularised by dwarven monks.

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Twins are considered a blessing of the gods by dwarves - in large part because dwarven birth rates once declined so severely. A blessing from Moradin in 1306 reversed this, and a side effect of the increase in fertility was a spike in the number of twins born (known as Thunder Twins), 20% of all dwarven births in that year were multiples. Thunder Twins have an innate empathic/low telepathic connection to each other. Identical twins are seen as especially revered by some clans, and essentially a single individual with two bodies, while fraternal twins are permitted to live individual lives.

These twins are believed to be destined for leadership roles and great destinies, prepared for it by the fact that they have another half to support them from birth, and are prepared by their clan for these roles their entire lives.

Historically, dwarves have also bolstered their dwindling birth rates by taking non-dwarves as spouses (humans, elves, halflings and gnomes). Prior to the Year of Thunder, non-dwarves who married into a clan and provided children and helped preserve the dwarven way of life were viewed with high levels of honour and respect. After the Year of Thunder, when the dwarves set about expanding back into lost homelands and re-establishing their trade and diplomatic connections (and the new generation's interest in the wider world), marriage with non-dwarves became even more common.

[sillylotrpolls]

(Notes below poll)

Dwarves really do have a thing for reincarnation! Admittedly, they think it's largely confined to Durin "the Deathless", but hey, you never know. As for the different dwarf clans, I will sum up for you:

Longbeards: The super-bestest most special-est dwarves (if Elrond was a dwarf, he'd be a Longbeard)

Firebeards: Built at least one really nice city, possibly crafted the most beautiful necklace in the world, probably have red hair

Broadbeams: Built at least one really nice city, possibly crafted the most beautiful necklace in the world, probably don't have red hair

Ironfists, Stiffbeards, Blacklocks, Stonefoots: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Petty-dwarves: Outcast dwarves who were particularly fucked over by the narrative/Elves

[vee-vee-writes]

Floral Arrangements (Thorin x gn!reader)

A/N: I have been working on this for ages but couldn't finish it, so here is part one. Hopefully I can get on to writing part 2 soon if people are interested.

The reclamation of Erebor by the company of Thorin Oakenshield had come with mixed emotions for (Y/N). You were excited to return to your childhood home with your two brothers. The three of you were given standard family quarters and small allowance to help you to settle in. The only downside was that so many who returned were also skilled in dressmaking, crafting, and forging leaving the three of you out of the job. To honour your fathers’ memory, the oldest of your brothers joined the royal guard, fulfilling your fathers’ old position. Both you and your youngest brother had no desire to follow suit.

Instead, the two of you decided to set up your own business outside of a stall in the market square. Flowers were neither common nor traditional in gifting practice within Longbeard culture. But the two of you were counting on the clans’ heavy involvement in the human world. It wasn’t uncommon for dwarves to adopt foreign human practices, even those of gifting and courting means. Thus, the two of you decided to adopt and adapt.

You took care of the purchasing, finances, displays and arrangements for the stall. There was limited private garden space within the mountain and requests for a private plot outside of the mountain for flower growth going unanswered, you had resorted to buying fresh flowers from a farmer just outside of Dale. Your fresh floral arrangements and bouquets proved popular enough amongst the mountain residents and its visitors, but they certainly were not what set your business apart.

The true jewel of your enterprise was the flowers crafted of precious metals and jewels of the most vibrant hues you sold. A sign of un-wilting and passionate love was the motto associated with them. Such a product was much more suited to the nature of dwarven love and courtship. You designed singles, arrangements and bouquets while your brother brought them to life.

With the introduction of said product, the popularity of the stall had doubled. The word had soon spread of the glittering creations and dwarves from across the seven kingdoms travelled to visit your stall. Within its first year and a half of operation its notability had grown to such heights that you were able to move from a stall to a rather comfortable store. This notability had additionally brought the attentions of the royal family upon you.

It was a warm afternoon when you received word from a steward that Princess Dis would be stopping by to look at your wares. After his departure you had bustled around the store preparing for the royal visit. A visit by a member of the royal family to look at your joint creations was incredibly humbling. Your bustling was disrupted by the sound of a customer entering the store. Peering up from where you knelt behind the counter you were shocked to see Princess Dis herself was already here.

“Pardon my lady, I was not expecting you yet” you politely greeted while stumbling up to your feet. “There’s no need please” Dis gestured at you kindly to continue what you were doing. “How can I be of service to you? Would you just like to browse or were you looking for something in particular” you gently prodded. The last thing you wanted was to drive away a customer like Dis Durin by being overbearing and pushy.

“I’d heard of the brilliance of your jewelled flowers and decided to come and have a look at the crafts myself” she praised glancing around, “do you make them yourself?” “No Ma’am. I design and arrange them, but my brother is the one who crafts them” you answered in earnest. “Well, you are both truly talented. The delicacy with which your brother has crafted them and your eye for colour are truly well paired together” she praised. Embarrassed by the praise you bowed your head in thanks and smiled shyly at the Princess in return.

Dis fluttered gracefully about your store for the next half hour inspecting the different florals on display, making conversation with you as she went. Eventually though she asked about whether you took custom orders. The two of you had never actually made a specified custom order for a client, instead you typically just sold the premade stock. Every piece was one of a kind so most customers were content by the uniqueness that the piece they choose offered. However, this was the future Queen mother, the honourable Lady Dis which had ruled in Thorin’s stead while he was on the quest to Erebor. So, you agreed that the two of you would be happy to make her a custom piece. Dis had been excited by the offer and promised to come back in several days’ time to plan out what she would like. With her departure you shut up shop and rushed home to tell your brothers of the great news.

  ----Several days later ----

You hadn’t seen nor heard from the Princess. You both were disappointed that Dis hadn’t followed through and placed an order but kept your heads up. After all the reason that you had moved to the shop was because of the influx of other noble and rich customers. Instead of dwelling on Dis’ missed order, you carried on organising and designing to pull your previous customers back.

It was late one evening while you were preparing to close the shop for the evening when a surprise visitor appeared in your shop. With your back to the doorway, you had failed to hear the quiet footsteps making their way up behind you. It was the unfamiliar gruff tone of a clearing throat that alerted you to the other presence. Whipping around you stepped back in surprise. Before you stood Thorin, Son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain.

Remembering your manners, you were quick to greet and bow to the King with all of the Court courtesies you had been taught as a child. Thorin nodded in acknowledgement of the respectful gesture as you rose. “My sister visited you store a few days ago and has been raving about the crafts you sell ever since” the King began, “I convinced her out of investing in one because my nephews and I would like to get one for her birthday.” You smiled broadly as you dwelled on the King’s words. Princess Dis had not forsaken your store nor had forgotten your arrangement. Instead, she had gushed about to the rest of the royal family.

Switching back into business mode you got straight to work, “Were you interested in buying one of our premade arrangements or were you looking to commission a custom piece as your sister was looking into?” Almost instantly Thorin answered, “a custom, if you are free now then I would like to go over the details while I have time.” His curtness took you slightly off guard, but you tried not to let it show, “of course, I will just close the shop front so that nobody comes in and disturbs us. Then we can begin.”

You had been quick to close the shop front as you had done many other nights and then led the king to your workstations in the rare of the shop. After settling in you had questioned him rigirously about what he was looking for. From the types of flowers, sizing, number, types of jewels, and colouring of the joinery the two of you had discussed it all. Thorin’s demeanor had relaxed the more the two of you spoke, seeming almost as if he was enjoying the informalities of the conversation. He had even asked personal questions of you while you had jotted down notes of the details, he fed you; who had come up with the idea for the shop, how many of you run it daily, where you had lived during the clan’s refugee years, if many of your family members had been able to return to the mountain, your age, and even if you were married.

By the end of it you had come up with a comprehensive plan of what the Durin’s were looking to have done for the matriarch. You promised Thorin that over the next few days you would come up with several design compositions to showcase to him. He smiled warmly at you and promised to return in a few days’ time as he bid you, his farewells. Giddily, you found yourself looking forward to a visit from the mountain king, a man truly unobtainable to you due to his status and yet had asked about your marital status out of curiosity. A dwarf could dream.

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[matrose]

dwarrow gender & marriage customs pertaining earrings! more headcanons under the cut =)

- the metal itself has no special meaning, to avoid confusion i used gold for all ears here

- the two bottom rings signify longbeard ancestry. broadbeams and firebeards have different piercings there, but use similar identifiers for gender and marriage, because of the close proximity. blacklocks, ironfists and the other clans very likely have much different customs, since they live further apart

-more mixing and matching with the pronoun identifiers is easily done! some dwarrows also invent completely new combinations/forms and use neopronouns. if dwarrows over the age of 70 have no piercings, it means that these dwarrows prefer no pronouns be used

- dwarrows under the age of 70 experiment a lot. the 70th birthday is a sort of coming of age ceremony, that involves choosing more permanent identifiers. (they are still changable later in life, although this happens rarely)

-the earlobe remains unpierced, until an engagement takes place. it is customary that the two dwarrows pierce eachothers ears. the earlobe is used for this, since its the easiest to pierce, and infection is less common. this ensures that dwarrows, whos craft does not include needles or detailwork, can still relatively easily perform the engagment ceremony ^_^

-engagements last for one or two years, during which the two dwarrows journey together into mines, caves, gorges, etc, with the goal of finding precious ore, minerals, gemstones, etc, which they will mine together. these are then cut, polished, and set into four earrings. the exchange of these earrings is the only part that is done publically, with the families of both dwarrows present.

-if a dwarrow is widowed, both wedding earrings will be worn on the same ear, while the other earlobe remains blank.

[chrononautintraining]

What is a favorite fandom headcanon for you? You can totally answer for multiple fandoms if you'd like.

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer within a certain amount of time or at all.*

I am extremely fond of the idea that the "only 30 percent of dwarves are female" in Tolkien canon comes from a translation error. Which is that only 30 percent of adult dwarves have chosen to become pregnant/bear a child. In fact there are no distinctions made between dwarven genders other than when communicating with other races.

Since dwarves were originally crafted by Aule with a vague understanding of the concept of "people" based on what Erhu told him over coffee that one time, they all have full beards but a wildly varied spectrum of physiological characteristics that would, in another race of people, be considered gender specific. There is literally no way to categorize a dwarf as male or female by external observation. If one were attempt to set gender classifications for the race based on sexual characteristics, seven would be required (based on the seven original models, the "Fathers" of the dwarven clans). Dwarves don't do that for the obvious reason that it's a lot easier to tell if someone has the Longbeard nose or the Firebeard coloring when they're coming at you in full armor with a battleax.

But thirty percent of dwarves do choose to get pregnant and bear a child at some point in their long, long lives. It's a lot of work, but only for a couple of decades. After that you have another skilled artisan in the family to help out around the place. So very nearly a third of all dwarves decide that children are neat and worth the amount of effort required to birth one. And those are the ones that men and elves decided were female.

[brighter-arda]

Day 4 @tolkienlatamandcaribbeanweek (Dwarves, Religious diversity): The Seven Clans

My day 3 and day 4 entries will be out of order due to computer problems. For day 4 I decided to represent the seven dwarf clans with seven different religions

Part 9 of toi's indigenous tolkien series

[id: images in rows of two.

Row 1 left: text 'Longbeards'. Photo of Jamaican Jews in the middle of a Star of David. The points of the triangle are parts of a photo of the mountain of erebor. Background is from the hobbit movies, a shot of inside of erebor. Row 1 right: Jewish cemetery gate with a star of david, somewhere in the Caribbean

Row 2 left: a santeria altar. Row 2 right: a Black santeria practitioner, text 'Firebeards'

Row 3 left: crowd of black brazilian women in white dresses practicing candomblé. Row 3 right: black and white photo of candomblé altar

Row 4 left: photo of mosque. Row 4 right: woman in hijab and a dress made like a Trinidad and Tobago flag, text 'Ironfists'.

Row 5 left: Taino person in a feathered headdress with necklaces, text 'Stiffbeards'. Row 5 right: art showing Zemi figures (believed to have held religious significance to ancient taino)

Row 6 left: purple Haitian vodou flag. Row 6 right: Haitians practicing vodou underground by firelight, text 'Blacklocks'.

Row 7 left: two indo-caribbean women from the 1800s, text 'Stonefoots'. Row 7 right: unspecified hindu temple

end image description.]

[blankdblank]

Potato Sack Prince

Can’t tell if I want it modern or not. Oc in Erebor is a bit strapped for cash and is having some personal troubles she needs to find money fast to keep that trouble handled. Such as a sick pet/relative, house damages by freak accident, their shop is going to be stolen by a plotting spouse of an ex who hates them, etc.

But word is rippling around of the Royal Family who are set to tour that part of Erebor to check that everything is in tip top shape and the people there are happy. Erebor is a big place and they do this in rotations to enable people to have word with the King if need arises with somewhat ease on a regular schedule. Then inspiration comes strolling into oc’s mind, the prince who will one day inherit who would look stunning even in a potato sack.

Paintings, small and easy to build a surplus of find the Prince in various poses. Standing, seated with legs crossed smirking to the imaginary painter capturing the moment because he knows how good he looks. Hair on point and his sword propped up at his side to hint he could wiggle out of that sack and wreak some havoc if need be like any self respecting Durin. Each and every one snatched up to fill oc’s purse and leave a fair bit of funds left over for the next fated disaster set to befall them.

The big day comes. Wide eyed and red faced oc sees their paintings being flaunted to the Royal Family, all who are thoroughly amused by the paintings. One in particular curious to meet the artist in question. Compliments are given and oc is short on words for their turn to speak to the amused King who knows his grandson is wildly curious about this citizen in particular who painted him so well without so much as a prior meeting to this day. Not much beyond a keep up the good work and confidence to instill upon a young talented artist.

Then one day a Royal invitation arrives to paint a portrait for the King. Oc nervously packs up their things and leaves early to be there most certainly on time. Polite, cordial and prompt. Compliments they hoped to be linked to their name. Quite unlike the giggling snort averting mess when they find that very same Prince lounged as proudly across his favorite fur decorated lounge in front of a roaring fire in wait for them. Noise that had his cousins Balin and Dwalin peek in to find him wiggling through loud laughter to get free to Oc’s duck behind a chair to try and compose themselves that only let a snort be half muffled by hands then laid firm across her mouth to muffle any more noise from her.

An intriguing beginning, and when his people were glum in their first days in the Blue Mountains that same Prince posed a new request to his now wife. Commission of a portrait to be hung inside the crudely shaped peak still in great need of years to come to shape it into something suitable to the surviving Longbeard clan to house their people in comfort. One that within moments had a sea of all citizens bent on touring it. To join in the curiosity, the laughter, the joy of seeing their future Potato Sack Prince’s gift to them.

A reminder laced with tears and weight of a lost home. One that in decades to come would have those same people buzzing before his second coronation, the first having been when Thror and Thrain had been lost, now for rule extending over the Blue Mountains and the currently being restored Erebor. Buzzing with wonder as to what pose their humble and majestic King would be in this time for this newest addition to their beloved potato sack gallery.

[lordoftherazzles]

Treat for bagginshield owo

You know the way to my heart! Bagginshield fluff? Yes please!

Life in the mountain had grown rather peaceful once the majority of restoration had come to a close. Though there was never such a thing as ‘being done’ with that large to-do list that seemed to grow more and more with each passing day. That being said, the state of Erebor couldn’t be denied, nor the part that both its King and Consort had to play in getting to that point.

It was moving forward, far beyond the reign of Thror and anyone who came before for the line of Durin. The Longbeards were a clan to look to once more, and Thorin was content with the idea that he might be making his ancestors proud. Hard work and innovative thinking won the day, and many more to come. Though it left the king rather tired more often than not.

Though kingly duties and pushing for the future were hardly on the dwarf’s mind this morning.

It was one of those rare days when his agenda didn’t start until later in the morning, which meant an extra hour of sleep which was few and far between. He could fuss about the meeting of guild leaders later, or how to properly entertain their elven envoys from Mirkwood in preparation for Kili and Tauriel’s wedding. The to-do list was as big as the mountain itself, but for the moment, Thorin could only focus on curling his arm a bit tighter around his husband’s waist from beneath those thick warm blankets.

“What time is it?” Bilbo slurred, his voice thick with exhaustion as his back pressed into Thorin’s chest.

“Don’t know,” Thorin murmured in response, resting his chin into that little space between Bilbo’s neck and shoulder. It was like slotting together two perfect puzzle pieces. “And I don’t particularly care.”

The snort from the hobbit was enough of a response. Bilbo found humor in these lazy days, but what was a lazy day for Thorin didn’t necessarily mean it was a lazy day for Bilbo. Whenever alertness truly hit him, it meant the day needed to begin and things needed to be accomplished. Though he wasn’t racing to get out of bed just yet.

“Have we missed breakfast?” The important questions, of course.

“If we did, I can assure you there will be a second one whenever you like.” Sighing softly and pressing a small kiss to the backside of one of those pointed ears Thorin so adored (the only kind of pointed ears he adored, mind you), his eyes remained closed and his grip around Bilbo intensified. “Before you go rushing off for food Kurdûn…allow me a little bit more time like this.”

“Is that an order, Your Majesty?”

Whatever impish behavior Bilbo felt like starting off with today, it wasn’t surprising. The hobbit always had a sharp wit about him and could be insufferable on a great number of days. Thorin wouldn’t have him any other way. “No, consider it a humble request, and because I’m too tired to let you go now.” The days had been long, and their time together had been cut short by miserable work hours and various events in preparation for the ceremony.

“Because you asked nicely…” Bilbo sighed, content beneath the blanket, as well as Thorin’s arm. There was no safer place in all of Middle Earth.

🎃 Trick-or-Treat my inbox! 🎃

[swanmaids]

the petty dwarves and the forest elves

written for khazad week day 7, for the prompt “folkore and myths”. a third age dwarven fairytale.

do i think the hunted petty dwarves were eaten? not sure. do i think the dwarves think they were? absolutely.

Long before the Sun and the Moon were young, the first of our forefathers awakened. And after they awakened, they multiplied and formed the seven great clans that stand strong even today. Longbeards, Blacklocks, and Firebeards; Broadbeams, Ironfists, Stiffbeards, and Stonefoots.

 Now, we Dwarves are a proud people, a good people, and we have never as a whole been corrupted by evil. But amongst any group there will always be those who have done evil of their own volition, and so it was amongst the clans of the Dwarves. Each clan found amongst their number criminals; thieves and deviants and even killers of kin. The Dwarves argued for many an hour about what should be done with such criminals. Should they be killed in revenge? But that would surely lead only to more killing. Or ought they to be imprisoned? For how long? Eventually, the debate reached the Seven Kings, and they sat in thought for many days, until they came to a decision. And so it was decreed by the word of the Seven Kings themselves that the dwarves who had done evil would be cast out from the homes of their clans with their families into the wider world, and never again would their descendants walk under the halls of their ancestors. And these outcasts came to be called the Petty Dwarves.

Now, exiled from their homes forever, the Petty Dwarves wandered far and wide to find a place to live, and unsatisfied with everything this side of the Blue Mountains, they came to cross the border into the Drowned World- of course, this was long before it came to be drowned. First those from the Blue Mountains, and then those from further to the East, and so on. And when the Petty Dwarves reached the Drowned World, they looked for a place to live.

First, they came upon a flat, wooded plain. But “This place is too close to the Blue Mountains!”, they said. So they walked some more. Next, they came to a great green plain. But “This place has no good stone!”, they said. So they walked some more. Next, they came to a small cool plain. But “This place is too cold!”, they said. So they walked some more.

Finally, the Petty Dwarves came to a region of many great and dark forests. And they were uneasy, because it is not the nature of Dwarves to live under sky and branches. They wished to continue on. Nevertheless, they had been walking for many days and many leagues, and they were tired. The Petty Dwarves bedded down in the forests to sleep.

As it turned out, the Petty Dwarves were not alone in the forest. As they slept, a group of Forest Elves came upon them, and many looked upon the Petty Dwarves, whom they had never before seen, with wickedness in their hearts. They looked upon the Petty Dwarves, not as a speaking people, but as animals to be butchered for their meat. And they made up their minds to eat them. However, the leader of the Forest Elves wanted to know first what they were, before he ate them. So the Forest Elves decided to convince their leader that the Petty Dwarves were truly animals.

Eventually the leader of the Forest Elves decided to wake the Petty Dwarves.

“What are you?” he asked.

 “We are Petty Dwarves,” the Petty Dwarves replied. However, the Forest Elves could not understand their speech.

“What is this hair that covers your bodies?” asked the leader.

“It is our beards,” said the Petty Dwarves, though the Forest Elves still could not understand.

“Only the beasts are so covered in hair,” said the wicked Forest Elves instead.

 “Why is your stature so small?” asked the leader.

“All Dwarves are made with short stature,” replied the Petty Dwarves.

“They are closer to the ground because they are beasts,” said the Forest Elves.

“Why are your ears so large and round?” asked the leader.

 “So that we may hear the words of the stone,” replied the Petty Dwarves.

 “It is so they may listen for predators,” said the Forest Elves.

And the leader of the Forest Elves hearkened to his kin, and decided that the Petty Dwarves were indeed beasts to be eaten.

The Petty Dwarves were bound and put into sacks and carried off to the dwelling of the Forest Elves. And when they reached that dwelling- the horrors that were in store! For indeed, the Petty Dwarves were put onto spits and roasted alive, and the Forest Elves gnawed the flesh off their bones like dogs. Then they ground down their bones to make their bread. And this they did to all of the Petty Dwarves, except one little girl, who was so tiny that she hid behind a tree trunk and was not caught.

Now this girl, a  darkhaired Broadbeam she was before her family was exiled, and her hair was dark as night. And she cut off all of her hair- even her beard!- and she made a cloak to wrap herself within so that no Elf could see her under the cover of night. Then she ran for seven days and nights, from the forest, through the cool plain, through the green plain, through the wooded plain, and back over the Blue Mountains.

When the girl reached the great hall of Belegost, she told the King of the terrible things she had seen. And he listened, and told his people never to trust the Elves of the Forests, and soon the word spread amongst all the seven Clans, and perhaps many were saved thanks to the bravery of the little girl.

And what happened to her? Well, she was still kin to the exiled Dwarves, and so after she had told her tale she was once again turned out of the halls of her ancestors. And what happened to her after that, nobody knows. 

[arofili]

@tolkienofcolourweek day seven | gender | gender among the sun-dwarves and their southern kin

All seven clans of the dwarves have distinct ideas of gender, some overlapping with their sister-clans and others with concepts unique to themselves. For dwarves, gender is a sacred personal identity, never assumed or assigned at birth, and rarely explained to non-dwarf outsiders. As a dwarf comes of age, they are expected to declare a gender, usually signified through some exterior symbol (such as a style of braiding or beading, dyed hair, or jewelry, depending on their clan’s customs). Sex is viewed as an entirely separate concept completely divorced from gender; as all dwarves are bearded and most very stout, the traits mortal men use to distinguish sex do not apply. Gender is indicated to others through dress and symbolism, but sex is a private matter between one’s self and one’s procreative partner, should the circumstance arise, and rarely of concern otherwise. The Longbeards and the Blue-dwarves of the West are the most inclined to interact with other species, and have borrowed some of their gender concepts from those other kindreds; the Stiffbeards of the North are deeply isolated and secretive with their ideas of gender; but the Sun-dwarves of the East and the Ironfists of the South share certain similarities in understanding, and are most inclined to trade with one another, leading to a shared kinship between the three, for the Ironfists have long been sundered from their sister-clan of the Stiffbeards. Among the Sun-dwarves of the East, there are three primary gender categories: khulz (male), zain (female), and zatakhuzdûn (self-made; often abbreviated as zatak). Roughly two-fifths of the population identify as khulz, another two-fifths as zain, and the final one-fifth as zatak. In the Blacklock clan, these genders are largely personal identities with little bearing on social status or ability, treated more as a culmination of spiritual exploration than as a marker of one’s place in Blacklock culture. The Stonefoot clan shares these genders, but has in addition seven secondary genders, deeply connected to a dwarf’s chosen craft. These are zaraz (wood), aban (stone), zirin (iron), kheled (glass), ubraz (gold), kibil (silver), and urus (fire). Each secondary gender fulfills a specific role in Stonefoot society, and these genders may change over time if a dwarf moves from one craft to another. Indeed, the ubraz gender is inherently a gender one must achieve through time and experience in a leadership role. A Stonefoot dwarf may also have multiple secondary genders, should they be accomplished in more than one craft, though this is rare. The Ironfist dwarves, once close to their sister-clan the Stiffbeards, but sundered from them for many generations due to the collapse of their home-range the Mountains of the Wind, lost much of their culture and lore in the disaster that forced them southward to the Yellow Mountains. This included many of the gender concepts now fiercely guarded by the Stiffbeards, even from them, and amid their struggles the Ironfists developed a system of a singular gender: khazad, simply meaning “dwarf.” They view all dwarves to be unified in gender under Mahal their maker, with divisions into various identities as a frivolity reserved for other cultures. Yet as they reconnected with other dwarvish kindreds, this construct of uniform gender relaxed somewhat, with many younger Ironfists adopting the many genders of the Stonefoots and Blacklocks. Still, the khazad gender remains significant and nearly universal among the Ironfist clan, with other gender identifiers accepted as additions to the base identity of khazad.

[transcript of image text below the cut]

A full image description is available in alt text. Below is a transcript of the text in each image.

Gender among the Blacklock Dwarves khulz || male zain || female zatakhuzdûn || embodiment of oneself; abbrev. zatak

Gender among the Stonefoot Dwarves.

zaraz || wood Among the Stonefoot Dwarves, there are three primary genders and seven secondary genders. The primary genders are shared with their sister clan, the Blacklocks: khulz (male), zain (female), and zatakhuzdûn (self-made). A Stonefoot Dwarf's secondary gender is related to their chosen craft. Zaraz, wood, is the gender of foresters, hunters, travelers, carpenters, and others who interact primarily with the natural world.

zirin || iron Zirin, iron, is the gender of smiths. If one works in a forge, one is most likely zirin, regardless of whether one is a blacksmith, whitesmith, silversmith, jewelsmith, etc. Zirin is the most common gender among the Stonefoot Dwarves.

kheled || glass Kheled, glass, is the gender of glassblowers, dyers, weavers, sculptors, painters, and others who work with ceramics or fibers. Anything to do with sand, clay, or thread is associated with kheled dwarves, who tend to prefer vibrant colors and colorful homes.

aban || stone Aban, stone, is the gender of stonecutters, jewelers, builders, masons, and others who work primarily in stone or with the mountains themselves. Most aban dwarves are also khulz. Of all Stonefoot genders, aban dwarves are the most physically fit, and the most likely to bear multiple children.

ubraz || gold Ubraz, gold, is the gender of guides and leaders. This gender must be earned and is generally reserved for elders within the Stonefoot clan. A dwarf may be ubraz and another secondary gender if they are a leader in their field. All dwarf-kings are ubraz, but other lesser lords do not necessarily qualify to claim this gender.

kibil || silver Kibil, silver, is the gender of those who dedicate themselves to serving others, whether in a position of civil service, as a footman or maid, a bodyguard, or in special circumstances, a parent or caretaker. This is a highly esteemed gender, and is made up primarily of zain dwarves.

urus || fire Urus, fire, is the gender of writers, actors, philosophers, musicians, and others whose craft is primarily of the spirit or soul. While most Stonefoot dwarves are passably good at one or more of these crafts, the true masters and devotees of spiritual creation are those who claim the gender urus. This gender is made up primarily of zatak dwarves, who necessarily have a deep connection to their self-made primary gender.

Gender among the Ironfist Dwarves. khazad || dwarf among the Ironfist dwarves, gender is mostly uniform and universal

[y97dgu]

sibling love

[milesasinmorales]

Okay I’ve been thinking… people call Fíli and Kíli Fíli/Kíli Durin. And to me that doesn’t make a lot of sense? Like that’s the general common ancestor right? I feel it would make more sense if you called them longbeards? Because that’s their clan/house (I have completely forgotten what the different dwarves are called) ? Idk I just like calling them what dwarves are usually called, *first name* son/daughter/child of *parents name*. Idk if I love them idea of pushing our concepts of last names onto them lol.

[ironfoot-mothafocka]

#Dwecember - Eight Nights

So I was going to write dwarf-inspired chanukah fic, but then life happened. Still, here's some unapologetically Jewish holiday fic featuring dwarves. Menorah lighting, Stiffbeard customs, fried foods, remembrance and inter-cultural relations.

--

The Eight Nights

“I don’t understand the time of year, though—” gasped Gaelan as he huffed down the Ereborian street after Vadlik. Though Gaelan stood head and shoulders above the tallest dwarves, it was still a tight squeeze. He’d lived in Dale for ten years now, and never before had he been inside the mountain when the Festival of the Clans was happening. From Vadlik’s excited commentary in the month leading up to the eight nights, he knew that it was a big occasion for not only the Stiffbeards, but for all of the houses of the dwarves. Vadlik slowed, and proffered a leather drinking vessel to Gaelan. The Man took it warily and sniffed it, almost spluttering at the pungent stench of neat spirit. He swigged it anyway; it was colder than he had anticipated, with a blizzard howling down from the nothern hills. The stone under his feet was chilly enough to sap away any warmth his thick socks provided, and Vadlik’s breath puffed out before him in a cloud of wispy vapour. “I don’t know why,” said Vadlik after considering this for a moment. He shrugged. “Something to do? It is cold at this time of year, and we need the light of candles and lamps. The light helps us to see, binds us together. Makes us remember.” Vadlik tapped the side of his skull with a thick, leather-covered finger. At least he had the foresight to bring gloves and a hat with ear-flaps. “Remember is very important to all khazad. Darkness better for remember. The fire good, see many thing in fire when darkness is around.”

Even though the Stiffbeard’s Westron was still quite broken, Gaelan knew exactly what point he was making. There was, he supposed, a reason why even in the religious rites of Men, candles were lit in Temples and a sea of light transformed the prayers of petitioners into an otherworldly experience. Telling stories of old legends in the darkness of a winter night was enhanced by crackling red flames, which leapt and twisted together to create the forms of creatures and figures of ancient times. Remembrance was aided by candlelight, the same way that the races of Middle-Earth had been aided by the rising of the first sun. It was linked in ways that Gaelan couldn’t fully put to words.

They walked together in silence, Gaelan’s huge frame turning heads. Not only was he a Man, of course, but he was also close to seven foot tall. Some dwarves goggled up at him with their jaws hanging open, but Vadlik simply strode in front of him with a proud, disdainful stare, jutting out his jaw as if daring any of them to comment. Gaelan didn’t mind though; he knew his dwarven friend took it more personally (as he suspected he would do if their roles were reversed), but he knew for some more sheltered dwarves it was rare to see someone this tall so far inside Erebor. Still, he greeted everyone with a smile and a ‘Shamukh!’ where appropriate, Vadlik’s liquor burning his oesophagus as he tipped more of it down his throat.

Finally, they stopped in the middle of a square in the Eastern district of Erebor. Here was the confluence of the Red Mountain diaspora among the Longbeards, an enclave where East met West. Gaelan had spent time here, and he smiled down as a few of the dwarves around him waved and shouted his name jovially. Vadlik hugged some other Stiffbeards who were huddled around a brazier at one corner of the square, warming their hands with their hair bedecked in multi-coloured ribbons and the dwarrowdams sporting incredible hats. Something sweet-scented was burning, an incense that Gaelan had last smelled when he had travelled through Kikuama. He breathed in the robust, smoky air, feeling the hair in his nose tingle. A tug at his sleeve brought his gaze down. A small dwarf child was reaching up towards him, shaking something clutched in their fist. He bent down and opened his palm: a small, sticky pastry fell into it. “S’ganit!” Exclaimed Vadlik, who had drunk half the bottle of fire-water and was now weaving. “Very good to eat!” Gaelan popped it in his mouth. It was incredibly oily but coated in a thick layer of sugary syrup that cut through its density. It was delicious. He noticed then that an array of fried foods were being hawked around the edges of the square from various stalls: potato-cakes floated on top of vats of oil; other vendors sold salted, cheese-filled doughs from hand-carts; and a queue of dwarves lined up outside a nearby house, which had the shutters of its kitchen window thrown wide open and a portly Stiffbeard dwarrowdam tipping out rows of s’ganit by the tray full into the hands of customers. “Is this another custom?” Gaelan asked, as he chased Vadlik to the cheese-pastry seller. “Yes,” Vadlik said, waving a handful of coin towards the dwarf, “we have custom to light many oil lanterns, and therefore we eat everything fried in oil!” It was a loose connection to Gaelan, but he didn’t mind. Oil-fried foods was one of his favourite food groups.

After Vadlik had bought Gaelan and himself a dozen pastries and fried potato hashes, which he doused with a dollop of soured cream, they crouched down on the porch of a closed shop-front to eat. “So — what will happen tonight, then?” Gaelan asked, his eyes straying to the huge, unlit candelabra that had been erected in the centre of the square. It was eight-pronged, like a trident, built elaborately from brass. One of the candle-holders was positioned higher than the others at the left-most side, while the others were still lower. It stood around twice his height. “One of the elders of Stiffbeards will light this tonight,” Vadlik said, gesturing towards the candelabra. “They will make blessing for all of us, for our Clan, for our homeland.” “And each of the eight nights,” Gaelan went on, “is to commemorate a different house of the dwarves?” “The eighth night — final night — is for all of us. The seven coming together as one,” Vadlik corrected. “Tonight, night five, is a special night for Stiffbeards. Stiffbeard night tonight. Many songs, many dances. You see costume dances — dwarves will dress as animals and dance: many will dress as one mammoth!” “A mammoth! You mean, one for the head, and one for the arse?” Gaelan laughed, imagining him and Vadlik taking on the role of mammoth-dancing. He’d much prefer to be a head than a backside, though. “No — many dwarf! Sometimes six will be one mammoth on… ah—” Vadlik mimed something being attached to the bottom of his legs. “Stilts? They dance as a mammoth… on stilts?” “Yes,” said Vadlik, raising his eyebrow at him, “no short mammoth. Tall mammoth.” He supposed he was right about that. As more and more dwarves crowded into the square, Vadlik recounted tales of his youth as a drummer for a band of mammoth-dancers, and how competitive difference dancers got; not just those dressed as mammoths, but those who performed as a whole host of beasts and creatures for the fifth-night carnival. Snow leopards, birds, dragons, and even nuruk, ancestral spirits, all came alive in intricate costumes — stitched with a mosaic of spiralling, glittering beadwork, and even outfitted with moving eyes and mouths.

Before that, however, the lights had to be kindled. A hush fell over the square as an elderly Stiffbeard mounted a set of steps next to the candelabra, assisted by a carven cane. Their face was so deeply lined and brown that they looked as though they had been hewn from an ancient oak tree. Their plaited hair stuck out on either side of a huge, tiered fur hat, and their shoulders bowed under the weight of yak-pelt furs. Someone passed them a torch from below the steps, and they raised it high above their head. A few, commanding words of khuzdul were uttered, though their dialect and accent was so thick that Gaelan could barely understand with his limited knowledge of the dwarven tongue. Vadlik, however, intoned the set responses next to him solemnly along with the rumble of the crowd. The Stiffbeard elder bent forwards slightly, and touched the tip of the torch to the first oil well, the largest of the eight. It went up in a spurt of yellow flame. Then, slowly, they lit five more. Even at a distance, Gaelan felt the heat on his forehead, and shouted in a cheer as the whole square erupted in screaming and clapping. He grinned caught sight of Vadlik’s face, dark eyes reflecting the light in their depths. The beginning of a memory, perhaps. “Khag sameakh!” Vadlik said, gripping Gaelan’s forearm. “Khag sameakh, Vadlik,” Gaelan replied. Tonight he would remember the time they met, the words of khuzdul he had been taught that he still held dear, the many times he had sat at a cramped, food-laden dwarven table in a Stiffbeard’s house and been shown boundless hospitality. Tonight, his heart got just a little more dwarven.

[vee-vee-writes]

Hey. I was wondering if you could do a hobbit/lotr headcannon with bilbo, fili, kili, and pippin and whoever else you want to add with an s/o that's just really sweet and innocent who goes on the journey with them and like cooks and cleans things? Thank you.

Sorry for the long wait! I didn’t forget about your request though. I hope you like it!! I’m probably going to expand on this and do a part exclusively involving the respective journeys.

Bilbo:

· You and Bilbo had met at a local market in the Shire

· Being from Frogmorton in East Farthing you were not well acquainted with all the hobbits from West Farthing

· Certainly, you had heard of the Baggins' but never had you met any of them

· The two of you had become intrigued in one another

· The two of you fluttered shyly fluttered around one another before either of you had the nerve to ask to court the other

· Flowers, home cooked meals, and homemade gifts were a must in a hobbit courtship

· Thankfully like the good homebody hobbit you were, cooking and crafting like a second nature to you

· Once you married, you moved into Baggend with Bilbo and fell quickly into a nice routine

· You were the domestic homebody, doing the cooking and cleaning, while Bilbo handled the shopping and errand running

· He was certainly more of a busybody than you

· Your fussing nature suited Bilbo

· Naturally when Gandalf had recruited your husband for his journey you had insisted on coming along

· While many of the dwarves had objected to you coming along, they came around to you much quicker than they did to Bilbo

· Your warm nature and propensity to embarrassment at their crude humor endeared them

· The consistent doting and insistence on helping with even the worst of the chores - the cooking, washing, and mending

· Though most of all it seemed that the way to a dwarfs' heart was through their stomach

Fili:

· You had met Fili at the meeting of the Seven dwarven clans and grown incredibly close in the few days the event spanned over

· You had come along with your father hoping to make some new connections to strengthen the position of your clan

· Instead by the time the event was over, you had entered a courtship with the young prince of the displaced Longbeards (Clan Durin)

· Thorin approved of the courtship and vowed to your family that he would make sure that proper propriety was followed

· As you and Fili spent more time together you became more certain that he was your one (soulmate)

· Fili felt much the same, taken with your head down hardworking attitude and humble sweetness

· It seemed to him that you would give anything a try despite its difficulty

· Thus, when Fili had informed you of the plan to retake Erebor you had no doubts about accompanying him

· It was obvious that this reclamation journey was incredibly important to not just the royal family but the entirety of the Longbeard Clan

· Your commitment to help a clan that was not yours by blood paired with your relationship with Prince Fili had earned you immediate respect amongst the Company

· Considering how others within their own clan (the Ironfoots) had turned their backs, your commitment meant even more to Fili and the company

· Quickly you solidified your role in the company as a handy dwarf - aiding with as many of the chores as you could while consistently being co-cook with Bombur

· The company enjoyed how you doted on each of them - fussing and trying to keep their spirits up

· Fili felt pride watching you fuss over the company

· In the event that the quest was successful you had proved tenfold that you would be a good king/queen consort to his people

Kili:

· You and Kili had grown up in the Blue Mountains together

· It wasn’t until you were in your young adult years that you had noticed his flirtations seemed more serious than Kili let on

· Your shy and somewhat sheltered demeanor played a large role in your ignorance

· Your embarrassment at Kili's flirting seemed to encourage him more

· When he got like this Dis and Thorin would both scold him for being overbearing but were quietly amused by the two of you

· Flirting was Kili's attempt to gauge your reaction, eventually leading to him asking to court you

· Your shy personality and preference for homemaking was in stark contrast to Kili's outgoing rougher personality

· Both Dis and Thorin were greatly amused (and relieved) at your ability to mellow Kili out

· They also appreciated the way you doted on Kili, constantly fretting over him in an endearing matter

· Thus, when the quest to reclaim Erebor was announced, Dis was quietly relieved when you decided to follow Kili along

· She was right

· While you looked out for the entirety of the company, you tended to pay the most attention to your one

· Your tender and caring nature shone through in your actions towards the company, making even their darkest days much brighter

Pippin:

· Of all the places you could have met Pip, the two of you had literally run into one another in Farmer Maggot's field

· You'd heard that the farmer had the juiciest carrots in the entirety of the Shire but at the cost he was selling them you refused to buy them from his stall

· Instead, in an out of character move for you, you had snuck into the field to try some

· Your friends' raving about them and your love of all things food and cooking had led to that moment

· While you had initially been mortified to have been caught doing such a thing, your relationship with Pippin caused you to look back at the moment fondly

· He too was making off with armfuls of the Farmer's produce

· The two of you ended up making off to your house where you and Pippin had enjoyed a night of good cooking and merriment

· In the months later the two of you had spent almost every waking moment together leading up to the forming of the fellowship

· You had been out with Pip and Merry when you had run into Samwise and Frodo being chased by a Nazgul

· It had led to your joining of the fellowship

· You proved to be a valuable member

· Though your skill was not with sword or axe, your skill at cooking and mending was unparalleled by any other member - making meals out of nothing and fixing even the most threadbare of garments

· Pippin admired this greatly

· For a hobbit who was not accustomed to such travelling, you had adapted incredibly well to the circumstances and Pip was glad

· Although he constantly worried over you, Pippin was glad to have you alongside him on this world changing journey

[angrenwen]

The Seven Houses of the Khazad by Artigas

Stiffbeards: Renowned Craftsman, they make their homes in ice caves on the vast frozen lands up north, starting around the ice bay of Forochel and all the way down in between the mountains of Angmar and the grey mountains (Ered Mithrim). Very secretive and peaceful, they avoid taking part in any troubles from the outside world at any costs. Despite their secretive ways, they are also accomplished merchants, and regularly travel vast spans of the frozen lands to trade with many diverse cultures. The items they create from exotic materials such as Ivory and bones from sea monsters are very sought after, in particular their fabled toys. Stiffbeards are ultimately free spirits, lovers of music, stories and the tribe above everything else. Stonefoots: They are the somewhat less developed branch of Durin’s folk, widely regarded as great miners, gem cutters and delvers. They are otherwise considered by many to be quite simple-minded, stubborn and difficult to deal with, but despite that they are greatly favoured by the Longbeards, which hold them in high regard as dependable and trustworthy allies. They dwell on the southern part of the Orocani on the east side, near the pinewoods and shores of the sea of Rûn. Broadbeams: Great merchants from Zirakbhund (Mallost) and later Mount Dolmed in the Ered Luin, they were Founders of the great city of Belegost (Gabilgathol). The Broadbeams are well known for their wealth, their prosperity, and the formidable fortresses they have built. They are also widely respected for their military might, and in particular for their legendary Dragon-Warriors. They are also considered the greatest armourers the dwarves had ever produced and were the creators of the fearsome Dwarf-Masks. Most prominent among the Broadbeams was King Azaghâl who wounded Glaurung the Dragon, and whose Dragon-helm was later passed down to Turin Turambar as part of his family heirloom. Longbeards: Noble and wise rulers, originally from the northern part of misty mountains on Mt. Gundabad (under which Durin himself is said to have awaken) and later on its southern ranges where they founded the great city of Khazad-dum, dug under the three peaks- Barazinbar, Zirakzigil and Bundushathûr. Regal, prosperous and traditionalist, they are the righteous heirs of Durin I The Deathless, and are therefore the supreme rulers of the dwarf kind. The Longbeards are held as a divine and sacred lineage by the other clans and command great power. Firebeards: Hot-headed, warlike and tough, Firebeards came from Nogrod (Tumunzahar) in the Blue Mountains. Supreme metalworkers, they are said to have invented maille. They are also hailed as the greatest Blade-smiths among Dwarves, and naturally many of the best came from their ranks, such as:  Gamil Zirak (said to be the greatest of all times, maker of the knife Angrist, the sword Andúril and the Dragon-Helm of Dor-Lómin), as well as the legendary Dwarf-smiths Telchar and Garmur. They befriended the elves with whom they traded profusely, and were commissioned by King Thingol of Doriath to delve Menegroth as well as to create treasuries and weapons for him. The necklace Nauglamír was their greatest creation for the King, and the cause of equally great woe. Ironfists: Proud, strong and fierce, the Ironfists are renowned for their formidable warriors of noble descent and their military might. Hailing from far up north on the Orocani mountains and near the gulf left by the now extinct sea of Helcar, they are said to be the first to unveil the secrets of Iron and Steel, which they brought to Durin as their gift when they answered to his call. They are a very warlike and greedy people though, and are accounted to have been involved in many shameful minor wars against other clans, particularly with the Firebeards, to whom they bear a grudge and consider to be their rivals. It is also with great difficulty that they accept to be ruled over by the Longbeards, and despite recognizing their authority as rightful rulers of the dwarfkind, they take every opportunity they can to act independently. Blacklocks: Great architects and Jewell makers that made their homes in the Mountains of Shadow’s far eastern side (Ered Glamhoth), among the remnants of Hildórien in the arid lands scorched by the never-ending sun. They were the first to develop civilization and are prodigiously rich and unbelievably proud. The Blacklocks are very famous for their wealth and they guard it with extreme avarice. They are also accused of being the “black sheep” of Durin’s folk and of being greedy and selfish, as well as of worse things such as dealing with orcs and perhaps even Mordor. Unfortunately, many times those accusations bear more than a hint of truth.