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#tolkien reader insert
emmyspov · 1 year
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Prioritise yourself (Thranduil x Reader)
author's note: happy easter to everyone who celebrates it and a happy weekend to all either way🪻this is honestly one of the most scary things i've posted because it's something so personal that i relate to a lot, but i thought maybe someone else might need it, too🥺 please always remember that nothing will ever be more important than your health and well-being 🩷
warnings: symptoms of burnout, lack of sleep, exhaustion, negative self-talk, skipping meals, mentions of food, nudity (for taking a bath together) - please please please let me know if I forgot something! 🩷
word count: 1.9k
edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)
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It had seemed like a smart idea when you offered Thranduil to help him with all the paperwork.
His days were filled with meetings and more often than not he only returned to your chambers once it was dark already.
So, for the past few months, you had been - more or less secretly - helping him with whatever you could: sending out invitations to other royals, filing away documents, re-writing contracts so all that would be left to do was sign them.
You were the king's partner after all and you wanted to help him as much as possible. This was your kingdom, your home, as much as it was his, as he regularly reminded you.
Thranduil noticed, obviously. The hours in his study were reduced since most things were taken care of in a perfect way already - he could return to your private rooms right after dinner and spend time with you instead which the Elvenking appreciated immensely.
However, over the past few weeks, things have taken a turn. And Thranduil noticed that, too.
How, on some days, you would get up earlier than him, how you would skip lunch and dinner with him - although it was one of your favorite things since you got to spend it with one another during your otherwise busy schedules - and instead eat by yourself, hunched over some papers. He noticed your tired eyes and dull skin and- lack happiness, to cut it short.
Worry didn't even remotely describe what he was feeling. He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about you being unhappy.
Today was no different.
You had gotten up before sunrise, leaving your husband a little love letter, before entering your own study to take care of all official things.
There was a lot to do. Other elves as much as people from Laketown and even dwarves were sending letters, hoping to schedule a meeting with the king himself to talk over whatever was bothering them.
You made it your mission to answer every single one of them, noting down appointments and also sending out excuses if Thranduil wasn't the right one to talk to when it came to certain matters.
By the end of the day, your head was pounding. You let out a yawn and rubbed your eyes, hoping to relieve some of the pressure behind them, but to no use.
Closing them for only a minute wouldn't hurt. You could still look for your husband afterwards.
A line had been crossed for the Elvenking.
It was the second day in a row that you skipped your shared meals and from what he just learned, you weren't eating them at all.
He needed to talk to you. He wouldn’t - and couldn’t - let you destroy yourself over some work. Your happiness and well being came first and he would make you realise that, no matter the cost.
After reaching your study and receiving no answer to his knocks, he let himself in with determined steps, only to stop abruptly as soon as he saw your sleeping figure. His eyes softened immediately.
"Oh, meleth."
With two big steps, he was by your side, crouching down until he was on eye level with you. Even in your sleep, you looked stressed, your eyebrows scrunched up, reminding him of the times you woke up from a bad dream.
"What are you doing to yourself, hm?"
Gentle, as if you would break like glass if he touched you with too much force, he picked you up and carried you out of the room and into your shared bed chamber where he set you down on the soft mattress and covered you with a fluffy blanket.
Thranduil left the room again for only a few moments so he could blow out the candle in your study and put everything where it belonged. He himself hated to work at a messy desk and didn't want you to deal with the same thing once you would return to work, although he didn't want to think about that yet. For now, you needed rest and all the love and care you could get.
He returned to your bedroom after he spoke to some of his subordinates to let them know neither he nor you would be available in the next three days.
You were still fast asleep, curled up into the blanket. The king walked over to you and slowly began to remove all your uncomfortable clothing before he himself put on a night gown.
Only then did he lay down next to you, carefully maneuvering your body into his arms, your head on his chest. Even in your sleep you wrapped your arm around his waist and entangled your legs, letting out a small sigh.
"Sleep, meleth, you've been working too hard", your husband whispered and brought his delicate fingertips up to brush some hair out of your face before letting them trail down to your back, rubbing some calming circles into your shoulder. "I'll watch over you, I promise."
And Thranduil kept his word.
He stayed up to make sure you slept through the night, occasionally pressing a kiss to your temple or the top of your head while his fingers were always touching you in some way.
It was nearly lunch time when you woke up the next day.
After noticing you were still cuddled up with your husband although the sun was already shining into the room, you immediately sat up.
"I- I overslept, oh Varda, there is so much to do. Why didn’t you wake me, my love?"
With a gentle force, Thranduil pressed you back onto the mattress.
"You've been overworking yourself for weeks and your health and happiness are suffering in return. I told everyone we wouldn't be available for the next few days. For the foreseeable future, we'll only take care of you."
You didn't want to cry. And you tried really hard to keep the tears at bay, but when the Elvenking looked at you with so much love in his eyes, you couldn’t stop them.
"I'm sorry for failing you, my king."
The elf wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. "Oh meleth, no. No, you didn't fail me, you never have. And you never will."
"I can't even take care of myself", you hiccuped, burying your face in the crook of his neck. "It's like the work and the pressure never stop and I'll never be good enough and now I am sitting here, crying to you, a literal king who has way more responsibility than me. I am so sorry to burden you with this."
Thranduil's heart was breaking. He couldn't believe this was how you saw yourself when, to him, you were the most beautiful being in all of Middle Earth.
"You are never a burden to me. Do you hear me? Never. We can fix this. You have to learn how to prioritise yourself. I can teach you. I will teach you. And we will start right now. You must be hungry, what do you want to eat?"
You fumbled around with your hands before looking up at the Elvenking. "Could I have some pancakes?"
Thranduil leaned forward to press a kiss against your nose. "Whatever you want, meleth nîn."
With one swift motion, he got up, put on one of his majestic robes and made his way to the kitchen to order your beloved pancakes and some additional treats as well as some hot and cold beverages.
He returned to your chambers with a first tray of food, watching your face lit up with delight at the sweet smell.
"Here you go, my love. Eat as much as you want and take all the time you need. There are no other things that need to get done today or the next few days."
You nodded and grabbed a plate, happily munching on the food the servants were bringing in over time.
The king was watching you carefully while he himself ate something. It was more than obvious that all the food was good for your mind, body and soul.
You let yourself fall back against the sheets when you were done, letting out a satisfied sigh. "That was good."
"It is about to get better. What do you think of a bath?"
Your eyes lit up. "Right now?"
The elf couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Is that what you want?"
You sat up, enthusiastically bouncing on the mattress and nodding your head. "Yes, please!"
Thranduil stood up again and walked into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water and your favourite bath salts and flower petals before coming back to you.
With ease, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed, carrying you into the bathroom.
"Arms up", he ordered gently and removed your clothing, doing the same to himself afterwards.
"You're so handsome", you breathed out as you softly pressed your hand against his chest, right above his heart. "I'm so lucky to have you."
Thranduil's heart started to beat faster under your touch and praise and you smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach at the fact that you still had this effect on him.
He lifted you into the tub, setting you down and lowering himself behind you, pulling your body flush against his chest.
"I'm the lucky one."
You shook your head before letting it fall back against his shoulder. "You take care of me when I can't do it myself."
The king's deft fingers brushed through your hair, letting them trail down your arm. "We take care of each other. You are the one who decreased my work load so I'd have more time."
You intertwined your hands. "Well, of course. I want you to be well."
A kiss was pressed against the top of your head. "Do you see my point?"
You nodded. "I think I do."
Thranduil let his thumb brush over the back of your hand. "Tomorrow, we can take a walk in the garden and look at all the blossoming flowers. Or we can do whatever else will make you happy."
A smile graced your lips. "Just being with you makes me happy."
Gently, the ellon grabbed your chin and turned your head around so he could kiss you. You melted into his embrace, smiling against his lips.
"Gi melin", he whispered after you two had parted for air and you replied with the same sentiment.
Once you two had soaked in the water for a while, the Elvenking grabbed your shampoo and lathered up his hands before bringing them up to your scalp to work in the product.
The more time you spend like this with your husband - in your little bubble of happiness and safety - the lighter your heart felt.
And it only got better when Thranduil's hands wandered down your head to your neck and shoulders, massaging your tense muscles to help you relax even further.
You shuddered and the king grinned to himself. He was just as pleased as you were earlier that his touch could, still, make you weak in the knees.
"Rest, meleth", he whispered as he continued to work on your upper back. "There will be time to talk about long-term adjustments and solutions, but for now, you can let yourself fall. I'll be there to catch you."
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Everything-Taglist: @shadowhuntyi @asgardianhobbit98 @fizzyxcustard
-> if you want to be added or removed from my taglist, just shoot me a message or an ask 🩷
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edensrose · 4 months
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╰₊ 𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒈𝒂𝒛𝒂◞ ₊˚:
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. ˚◞♡ 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆◞ ₊˚﹕I will be making a temporary return to participate in @ficsforgaza 's fundraiser in which I will open up requests for all of my fandoms ( including former ). in exchange for donations to the listed fundraisers on @ficsforgaza 's masterlist. let us help the people in gaza together. 
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˚◞❀˳ the dollar to word count ratio for this collab is $1 for 100 words. i may write over more than the requested amount but that will be on me and how much I get into the fic itself 
˚◞❀˳ donate to one of the fundraisers on the provided masterlist  and send me a screenshot of your proof of payment ( blur out all of your personal details ) + your request. via dm, I will notify you when the request is complete and keep you anonymous should you prefer.
˚◞❀˳ please adhere to my guidelines before making a request
˚◞❀˳ I write nsfw, dead dove/dark content, sfw, angst and more. ( more info on my guidelines linked )
˚◞❀˳ the following is a list of fandoms that I will write for along with the characters. I will write reader inserts, character ships and oc x character/self ships. I write for a wide variety of characters, inluding rare ones.
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꒰ tolkien﹕all the ainur ( valar + maiar ), thranduil, legolas, feanor, humanoid!smaug ꒱
꒰ mo dao zu shi﹕all characters ꒱
꒰ spiderverse﹕all characters except miles, gwen & pav ꒱
꒰ marvel﹕inquire with me first, knowledge on mcu + comics ꒱
꒰ kamisama kiss﹕all characters ꒱
꒰ tower of god﹕all characters ꒱
꒰ howl's moving castle﹕howl ꒱
꒰ tian guan ci fu﹕hua cheng, xie lian, he xuan, jun wu ꒱
꒰ k project﹕all characters ꒱
꒰ hypnosis mic﹕all characters, only anime knowledge ꒱
꒰ diabolik lovers﹕all characters ꒱
. ˚◞♡ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈◞ ₊˚﹕ @bluezenzennie @cilil @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @someoneinthestars @kiatheinsomniac @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @a-chaotic-dumbass @rurifangirl @spoopy-fish-writes @ruiniel @wandererindreams @animatorweirdo , lovies could you help me in sharing this please? thank you so much <3
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The casting for the company in The Hobbit is phenomenal
Graham McTavish (Dwalin) hitting the gym as soon as he got the part
Jed Brophy (Nori) trying to steal as much stuff on set as he can and Mark Hadlow (Dori) telling him to put it back
Mark Hadlow (Dori) texting Adam Brown (Ori) “Are you okay?” and mothering him all the time
Aidan Turner (Kili) and Dean O’Gorman (Fili) being the trouble makers on set and teasing all the other dwarves
Stephen Hunter (Bombur) constantly snacking on set
James Nesbit (Bofur) and his Irish humor
Richard Armitage (Thorin) constantly feeling the pressure of his role and responsibilities
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Your Father's Son - Curufin x maia!reader
For the first time ever, Curufin wishes he wouldn’t resemble his father so much.
Words: 1.3k
Tags: Curufin has a bit of an identity crisis, fluff, reader is a Maia of Aulë
A/N: I genuinely never thought the day would come where I write a fic for this guy. Honestly don’t care that this is probably not really canon compliant, this version simply speaks to me so much more. Since it’s pre-oath, I imagine the daddy issues just hadn’t taken on their final form yet. Guess I can still sneak this into @doodle-pops underrated character event 👀
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Whenever Curufinwë and his family visited the Halls of Aulë, his father really lived up to his name. The fire of his fëa glowed in his eyes and filled his voice with an insurmountable passion, captivating all who listened, as he described new projects and techniques he had come up with. His mother always stood next to his father, beaming with pride at her husband’s accomplishments and occasionally chiming in with remarks about her own craft.
Today was a truly remarkable occasion. His father stood at the centre of the hall, holding an intricately crafted box in his hands.
“Thank you for so graciously receiving me and my family, Lord Aulë,” his deep voice boomed across the room. “Today, I am here to reveal my greatest creations yet. Behold.” He opened the box and produced three brightly gleaming gems. A collective gasp went through the hall and excited whispers broke out amongst the present Maiar and Elves.
“The Silmarils,” his father continued, “imbued with the light of the Two Trees themselves.” Curufinwë watched with pride, as his father was immediately swarmed by curious onlookers, hoping to gain a closer look at the Silmarils and ask him all manner of questions about the creative process.
He spotted a familiar face in the crowd and a pleasant tingle spread through his body. You wore an expression of pure awe, eyes glued to his father’s spectacular creations. How he wished you would look at him like that. He would gladly rip the Silmarils from his father’s hands to offer them to you if that’s what it took.
Sometimes he wondered if his feelings could ever be reciprocated. The Valar and Maiar seemed so close and yet so far away and to his knowledge, Maia and Elf couples weren’t exactly common.
Your eyes met and you offered him a happy smile, making your way over to him. “It is lovely to see you here, my lord,” you said with a polite bow.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he replied, taking your hand to ghost his lips across the back of it, delighting in the surprised blush on your face.
“What your father created … breathtaking. We’re all honoured to be in the presence of such a master craftsman,” you gushed.
Curufinwë’s smile almost bordered on smugness. How else could anyone feel in the presence of the greatest of the Eldar? He knew how much work his father had put into creating the Silmarils. How much of his fiery fëa had flown into them. All the sleepless hours slaving away in the smouldering forges had more than paid off.
“Oh, I almost forgot! Your mother showed me one of the new hair brooches you made for her. It was stunning, you truly are your father’s son. With all the talent you inherited from him, surely there are creations rivalling the Silmarils in your future.”
Curufinwë felt an unexpected pull in his chest. You truly are your father’s son. Words he had heard more times than he could count and that he normally perceived as the greatest of compliments, but somehow it felt different when they came from you. Was that all you thought about when you looked at him? How much he took after his father?
He should be honoured, like he always was. Who else but him could even dream of holding a candle to his father’s genius? And yet …  I’m more than just my father’s son, his mind told him, but he immediately suppressed that ridiculous complaint. He clenched his jaw and gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I pray you are right.” His façade could never hope to deceive the perceptive Maiar.
“Are you all right, my lord? Did I say something to upset you?” you questioned but he only shook his head silently and took his leave with a grumbled Please excuse me.
He didn’t know how many corners he had turned when he just so happened to find himself in front of a mirror in an empty hallway. He recognised the frame’s design immediately – it was one of the first crafts for Aulë he had helped his father with. He could still vividly remember the pride he felt when his father had praised his diligent work and how he had begun to chase that high ever since. For as long as he could remember, nothing had mattered as much to him as gaining his father’s approval.
Curufinwë stared into the mirror, watching his father’s piercing gaze stare back at him. His face contorted into a scowl, just like his father’s did, when in the presence of his blasted half-brothers.
He tentatively reached up to loosen the pins that held his hair in place, watching it cascade across his shoulders and back like liquid midnight. No matter how much he wrecked his mind, he couldn’t think of a single hairstyle that his father did not favour as well.
“There you are,” your voice suddenly appeared next to him. He tried to hide how startled he was as he turned to face you.
“You followed me?”
“I wanted to make sure you’re all right,” you said timidly, as if debating whether or not to regret your action. He couldn’t give you an honest answer, so he remained silent.
After a while of uncomfortable silence, he spoke up. “Is he all you think about when you see me?”
“He?”
“My father.”
“What? Of course not-“
“I have talent of my own, you know. Everyone always says how alike we are. How grateful I should be, to have inherited his skills. But-“ His breath quickened, and he turned his back to you, running his hands across his face in frustration. I’m more than just my father’s son. “I don’t want you to think of me like that. Not you, of all people.”
You moved to stand in front of him and took his hands away from his face, holding them in your own instead. For a moment, Curufinwë thought he saw something akin to genuine affection in your eyes, but surely his mind was deceiving him.
“Who says that’s what I do?” you said tenderly. “I adore you for who you are. Your father-“
“You adore me?” he interrupted you in disbelief. A sudden realisation seemed to dawn on you, as if you hadn’t meant to use those words.
“Well, yes, of course I do,” you floundered, “A great deal. You are an amazing craftsman in your own right and the passion you show for your works is most certainly your own. I love when you come to me to show me new ideas, I … could listen to you for hours.” You bit your lower lip and looked away, your statement hanging heavy in the air for a moment.
Curufinwë swallowed strongly and then took hold of your chin to turn your face towards him slowly. “I … adore you, too,” he confessed and felt his heart swell as your eyes lit up with joy and your lips curved into a smile. “There’s only one opinion I value more than my father’s when it comes to my craft. Yours. Sharing my ideas with you is one of my greatest joys.”
“I don’t really know what to say,” you replied, but the smile on your face never faded.
“You don’t need to say anything. For now, let’s just … I don’t know. Come to terms with these feelings. And forget about my embarrassing insecurities,” he mumbled the last part and felt his cheeks heat up, hoping it wasn’t too noticeable.
You laughed and nodded. “I’d like that.”
A small part of him wondered if this is how his father had felt, when he discovered his mother’s mutual feelings, but he silenced that part immediately. Not now, idiot.
He shook his head, and a  relieved smile graced his features. Maybe the Maiar weren’t so far away after all. Maybe – just maybe – he didn’t mirror his father as much as everyone told him.
Coming from you, he chose to believe it for now.
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Along for the ride, to Erebor - Part 5
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the second part for the second movie.
Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too graphic but i certianly wouldn't want to be caught reading it, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien), sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it, tags tbd tbh lol
Word Count: 4,758
A/N: OMG!! I graduated! I got a job! I finally edited this part! I'm so tired y'all, I'm writing this author note at like midnight lol. ~AnywhoOOo~ I hope you enjoy! let me know if you'd like to join the tag list to be directly notified of chapter updates! <3
Divider credit: @cafekitsune
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You woke to the usual clanging of pots and pans as breakfast was being cooked. Kili’s hand was still on your waist and his arm was still your pillow, though you were sure it’d gone numb in the night. You gently placed your hand on his cheek and gently ran your thumb over his delicate cheek bone. He looked so handsome sleeping softly beside you, it made you smile like a giddy little girl. You regretted having to softly remove yourself from him, but you had to start packing your things and getting ready for the day, which was so much easier now that you didn’t have to worry about your hair. When you were finished and your bag was neatly packed, you tenderly woke Kili up.
He stretched then his eyes popped open, “Good morning!”, he sat up energized and ready to conquer the day.
“Good morning!” You replied with a kind smile, ever impressed by his liveliness in the mornings, “Start packing, Bombur’s almost finished breakfast.”
He shuffled about beside you while you worked on the final half of your bracelet, waiting for breakfast.
The porridge was the usual white sludge meant for nutrients, not flavor. You rinsed the dishes in the river with Kili’s animated storytelling as you usually did after meals. Thorin had the company moving out when you returned.
The day’s walk was very scenic, mostly idyllic forests with little rivers, where the lighting truly brought it all together. You walked between Kili and Fili so they could give you the basic run-down of sword handling and bowmanship.
By the end of midday, the company was on the border of the forest and a field. Thorin decided to make camp there and told Gloin to make the fire while Nori, Bifur, and Oin set traps in the forest to restock the reserves or something, you weren’t listening, too focused on Kili’s hand in yours as he led you somewhere.
The extra sparkle in his gorgeous brown eyes told you he was very excited to teach you about archery. As the resident Archer, no one (his brother) could compete for your attention by correcting him. He was also excited to watch you use his bow and his arrows; an honor bestowed upon an extremely select group.
Kili was very protective of his bows, not just because of the time it takes to make such an incredibly valuable weapon, but because one time in his youth he worked for weeks carving a brand-new bow from solid wood, making the string by hand, and engraving runic talismans into the handle. He worked very hard on that bow; Only to have one of his snot-nosed neighbors snatch it from him while they were playing and accidentally snap it in half after a misstep. Kili was furious, absolutely inconsolable. Fili had to drag him from the scene of the crime to the forest behind their family house, so he didn’t hunt the kid down and destroy him. He didn’t say anything to Fili, just cursed and milled about the clearing in frustration. At first, his brother didn’t know what he was doing, concerned he was setting a malicious trap for the offending child (such a spiteful trap was almost sprung after another incident of the same nature); but as Fili silently watched, out of arm’s punching reach of course, he realized his brother was just looking for a piece of wood to make a new bow. Fili built a fire to keep the chill of the setting sun at bay, not wanting to abandon his brother to the coming night. He watched the younger mumble curses in dwarfish as he whittled the wood seemingly in his own little world. Kili hadn’t really taken notice of the fire his brother built despite using its light and occasionally throwing more wood on absentmindedly while he stayed up all night to make the string and engrave the handle. Their mother, Dis, saw them through the window in the back door in the middle of the night. Fili was sitting on the ground, relaxed, leaning against a tree while he watched his brother on the other side of the blazing fire, Kili was sitting on a rock hunched over his bow as it came together. Dis knew from that moment Fili would always look after his little brother, or at the very least try his best. The craftsmanship of the bow he made that night was nowhere near his previous bow, but it could still shoot the straightest arrow in the village. It would do till he grew again and needed a bigger one.
Kili brought you a few yards away from the camp, out of ear shot but not out of sight. After the crash course in archery during the day’s walk, you were as prepared as you could be. Kili carved a target into the trunk of a tree with his dagger, not worried about losing misfired arrows in the underbrush because the fletching on the end of all his arrows were bright yellow.
He situated you both at a reasonable distance from the target and demonstrated again how to place your fingers on the string and what position to be in when you pull the string back. When he handed you the bow you were not expecting it to be as heavy as it was. Without an arrow, you tried to pull the string back like he showed but you couldn’t move it. You looked at Kili.
“Just pull it back Y/N.” He encouraged, with a proud little smile on his face.
“I am, Kee,” you said still straining to pull it. It wouldn’t budge. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what could be wrong—Ah! He got it!
“Here, let me help.” He came up and stood behind you. “The draw weight for my bow must be too high for you,” he said into your ear in a low hushed tone while he got into position. He shuffled his legs behind yours and placed his hand below yours on the handle and his fingers above and below your slimmer, softer ones on the string. They were much stronger and much thicker than yours. Two of your fingers were the same width as one of his, a thought that quickly had you blushing. The irresistible mental image of moaning out for him while being deliciously stretched around his capable digits as he cooed praises, was nearly too much. You thanked God he was behind you and therefore couldn’t see your bright red face.
He let you do most of the work pulling the bowstring to allow you to get a feel for the mechanics and amount of potential energy the movement created.
“And…” he made sure you were ready, “Release.”
You both let go of the string at the same time.
“Perfect! Now let’s try it with an arrow” He got one from the quiver on his back and handed it to you.
You nocked the arrow like he taught you then got into position. He helped you pull the string back like before, allowing you to control the aim.
“Ready…” You said to him this time, “Release!”
The arrow flew across the field and landed smack in the middle of the bullseye!
“No way,” Kili said in complete disbelief. You both went over to inspect the target. Sure enough, the arrow was deep in the carved circle of the tree.
“That’s amazing Y/N!” He turned to you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen. You were as happy as him, jumping up and down excitedly.
“I want to try again!” You walked over to your previous spot and lined yourself up, waiting for him to join you. He chuckled at your enthusiasm and grabbed another arrow on the way over. You repeated the process like a practiced dance, enjoying more than anything that he was your partner. He allowed you to aim again, but this time the arrow didn’t hit its mark or the tree at all; It planted itself firmly into the leaf-covered underbrush.
“Awe,” you pouted, “I rushed, next time I’ll take my time.” You grabbed another arrow from his quiver, accidentally getting your face in his. For a moment, you could feel the heat of his lips and his breath tumbling over onto your own in a near ragged pant.
When you backed away you both politely laughed it off, though you could have sworn he leaned closer to you in that brief moment.
You shot all the arrows he had in his quiver. A handful hit the target, and a few even got close to the bullseye, but none hit the center like the first. Being a good coach, he encouraged and teased when the time was right.  
Once again in your own little world, it was like nothing mattered except him. His radiant smile, his contagious laughter, his excitability; it was all consuming. As the day wore on, your arms got tired, and you were ready for a break. You helped him collect the arrows in and around the tree, so he could show off for a bit like boys do for pretty girls. He did trick shots and action shots and even pinned the pinecone you threw for him to the tree. His skills were very impressive. Your return to the camp was met with impressed exclamations.
“Was that a bullseye on the first shot?!” Bofur asked, having seen the miracle even from the other side of the camp.
“Aye!” You said excitedly, proud of your accomplishment. You didn’t even realize that you were beginning to use their dialect.
“Good job lass!” Oin said, along with the others happily celebrating with you.
After all that working out, you were hungry for a snack. You rummaged through your bag in search of the grapes you had foraged with Bilbo the day before. They weren’t in your bag where you left them, carefully wrapped in your old T-shirt.
‘They couldn’t have fallen out’ you thought as you scanned the camp for the thief, already having an idea of the culprit. You stopped when your eyes fell on Kili across the camp, leaning against a tree with a shit-eating grin as he popped a grape into his mouth.
You were livid. It was a total invasion of your only private property: your bag, and you felt extremely violated.
You couldn’t say anything to the offending dwarf or even look at him in fear of your rage exploding onto him. The camp fell silent as you walked to Kili, your anger evident from your expression.
That feeling in Kili’s chest sunk to his boots when he saw how angry you were; he knew he’d gone too far. You snatched the grapes from his hand and walked (stomped) into the field beyond the camp.
“Y/N wait—” he tried to follow you into the field.
“NOT NOW KILI” you snapped at him over your shoulder in a tone he didn’t quite think you were capable of. He stopped in his tracks at your tone, the same one his mother used when she was very cross with him. The other members of the company who heard the commotion snickered at Kili’s self-inflicted misfortune.
You sat in the field, soaking up the sunshine and eating your grapes while you calmed down. Kili moped around camp like an abandoned puppy; it was quite a pitiful sight.
When you finished your snack, you took a few deep breaths to get the anger from your system and allow your thoughts to come together to properly explain to Kili why you were so mad. The youngest Durin hesitantly joined you in the field when he saw you were done with your grapes, his footfalls crunching the grass beneath him alerting you to his presence. He sat next to you clearly a little nervous by how he picked at the grass.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at the ground. “It was just supposed to be a joke, honest,”
“Joke or not, Kili Durin, you shouldn’t have gone through my stuff!” You wanted to make sure he understood how unhappy his actions made you. He cringed at his full name. “You violated the only sliver of privacy I have out here!”
“Sorry, Y/N,” he said in a regretful voice you’d never heard from him before. “I shouldn’t have gone through your bag.”
You sighed and looked over at him. “I forgive you Kili,” You took another deep breath, satisfied he’d learned his lesson, “Just don’t do it again, ok?”
He smiled, happy to be back on good terms with you, “I won’t, I promise”. You smiled too, his infectious charm melting what little remained of your anger. You leaned in for a hug, knowing you both needed physical reassurance.
He sat with you in the field for a while, content to stay in comfortable silence. You’d been eyeing a beautiful patch of flowers a few feet away since you’d sat down. You shifted so you were laying on your stomach to get a closer look at their vibrant hues and decided you wanted to use them, but how? Kili moved next to you, mirroring our position, to see what you were looking at. Then inspiration struck.
“I’ll braid them into your hair!” You said excitedly. He gave you a look of surprised confusion.
“What?! No!” he was immediately against the idea and even backed away from you as if you’d jump on him any second like his brother might, “Why don’t I put them in your hair instead? They’d look much better on you.” He desperately tried to come up with a reason to avoid the inevitable onslaught of mocking he’d have to endure if he agreed to your plan.
You brought yourself to a kneel so you could look him dead in the eyes with a blank expression, “Pussy,” you simply said.
He scoffed and got all huffy and puffy, “I am not a pussy!” He said defensively, his cute accent got thicker when he was flustered, it made it so hard to take him seriously, “I just think the flowers would make you even more beautiful than you already are.”
You blushed deeply at his words and looked away from his charming little smile to keep your thoughts from your more baser mindset and to think over his offer. He started twirling the end of one of the braids he’d done the night before between his fingers. It was a sweet and absentminded motion, to which you relented with a sigh, “Alright, but you have to teach me how to use a sword after.”
“Deal!” He gave a hearty nod. You got your hair stuff from your bag and your bracelet to work on and hopefully finish while Kili did your hair. You picked the prettiest flowers and put them in the extra fabric of your shirt like a delicate basket. He dragged over a stone to sit on and got to work undoing the braids and brushing your hair out.
You didn’t realize how tight he’d made the braids till the tension was released from your scalp. You sighed in pleasured relief as he moved your hair around with the brush. That sound immediately pricked his ears.
“Does that feel good, princess?” He looked down at you and smiled as he massaged the sore parts of your head. You were too lost in the feeling his skilled hands were creating to hear his pet name.
Once he massaged the soreness away, he parted your hair and began braiding. Kili had a vision of what he wanted to do to your hair. He wanted a thick band like a crown around the top of your head and four small thin braids scattered across the rest of your loose unbraided hair.
You were on an entirely different plane of existence. You felt so calm and relaxed and taken care of with his undivided attention, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. His tranquil voice when he asked for a flower every now and then was the only thing you could hear.
When Kili was putting on the finishing touches, Fili came and joined you in the field to see what you both were doing, sadly breaking you from your lovely state of mind.
“Kili wouldn’t let me put flowers in his hair.” You pouted after the older brother inquired about your change in hairstyle.
“Even after he rummaged through your bag!” Fili feigned offense on your behalf with a smirk as he laid on his side in front of you both propped up on his elbow.
“Shut up, Fili” Kili huffed, ashamed of his previous actions, as he carded his fingers through your loose hair to make sure it was laying properly.
“Awe, Kiwi’s embawwassed,” you said in a baby-talk voice, making you and Fili laugh a little.
Kili stopped combing his fingers through your hair and tangled them in the loose hair at the back of your head. He pulled your head down to make you look up at him looming over you. He was about to say something, but the inadvertent dominating gesture caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips, stalling any thoughts he tried to voice.
You were both stuck in that trance for just a moment, yet it took an eternity to pass. He was unable to look away from your pleasure pinched eyebrows and slightly parted panting lips. You were captivated by his handsome blushing features and the fire in his eyes. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, to meet his lips in heated passion.
“Good gods you two,” Fili rolled his eyes. His sudden interruption snapped Kili back to reality so he could release your hair. “Get a room,” Fili finished his statement.
“Shut up, Fili,” you both said in unison with faces equally ablaze and eyes cast anywhere but at each other. The elder just looked at you two and laughed to himself, he knew at that moment you were both madly in love.
“Here’s your brush, Y/N.” Kili handed it to you, wanting to change the subject.
“Yes, thank you” You took it from him and hastily returned it to your bag then met Kili back in the field for sword training. His brother was still there passively observing (waiting till he had to step in to correct the younger as this was not Kili’s area of expertise).
Bilbo allowed you to borrow his sword so you could get an idea of what a properly fitted one felt like without your wrists being torn to shreds by the other much heavier swords of the company. Kili walked you through basic moves and positions to teach you how to make your weapon like an extension of your own body. When he tried to speed up the movements and have you come at him in mock battle, you faltered and messed up the arrangement of poses.
When this happened, Fili of course would step in with a simplified version to help you. Before long, you had an audience, and the watchful eyes and extensive fighting prowess of Thorin and Dwalin. Kili was no longer the teacher but the sentient-sparing mannequin. The sequence of positions and movements became longer the more you worked at it. It felt amazing to be capable of so much. You knew it was just choreography, but it made you better now than you were before.
You were beginning to sweat under your thick tunic. The physical exertion was getting to Kili as well. When you took a water break you removed your shirt, the coffee brown padded camisole you wore underneath being far more breathable, but much tighter than your usual outerwear. It left hardly anything to the imagination.
Your less-dressed return to the now-stamped-down grass of the makeshift training area was met with impressed exclamations, wolf whistles, and light applause. You blushed and pretended to be a fashion model at the end of a runway. They found it very amusing.
Kili came back after wondering what the commotion was about.
He saw you waiting for him, you hadn’t noticed him approaching yet, too busy putting on a silly little show. He loved seeing you like this, confident and carefree, not worrying about how you looked and focusing on something that was far more rewarding: having fun. He used the few seconds you were distracted to admire you. Your half up half down hair he’d just braided and styled, was blowing softly in the wind, and your short unruly baby hairs were matted to your sweaty forehead giving you a halo of sorts. Your camisole highlighted the alluring curve from your ribs to your hips like nothing Kili had seen before. The hem of the fabric was ridding up on your waist, revealing just a sliver of your lower tummy. Your pants kept where they were, hugging tight to your thighs and bottom.
‘Two can play that game’ Kili thought, not even trying to hide his mischievous smile. He took his shirt off and threw it in his bag.
You looked up and saw him coming to meet you. The long bangs that framed his face were clinging to it now from his perspiration. He was smirking, knowing he caught you slightly off guard. His prominent pectoral muscles bled into his strong thick arms. His waist tapered into his hips where his pants were beginning to ride low, revealing his defined adonis belt in its retreat. He exuded power as he walked towards you with his arms out a bit from his side, and his palms facing you, as if he were accepting your challenge.
“Ohho, it’s serious now, is it?” you said over a light chuckle, feigning being taken aback by his friendly challenge.
“Oh, it sure is.” He returned your light laugh and with a smug expression he tapped his sword against yours where it hung at your side. He knew he was flustering you. He could see it in the deepened flush that colored your cheeks and how your thumb picked at the leather-covered hilt of your sword.
You had to bite the inside of your lip rather hard to keep your eyes above his exposed shoulders. It had been so long since you’d felt so physically and mentally attracted to someone. The way he was looking at you made your panties dampen at the scandalous thoughts that his honeyed chocolate eyes made race through your head.
If Thorin hadn’t said, “Ready positions”, in that barking tone of his, you’d have jumped Kili’s bones and rode him off into the sunset.
You both got into the starting positions you preferred. Thorin shouted ‘Commence’ in Dwarfish. Kili came at you with harsh blows, which you perfectly countered like you’d been taught. You were able to quickly move yourself, so you were standing at his side. You took the opening and swung for his exposed ribs, but he easily blocked your attack. You pressed your blade against his to force him back and give up some ground. He stood steadfast in his heavy boots, however, and pushed back against you, getting his face close to yours to tease you.
“Good job, you remembered how to keep your grip on the sword.” He said with mock celebration. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your footing. He glanced at your lips where your teeth were worrying your lower lip; A habit he noticed when you were focused or nervous.
“I’ve been taught well, Archer.” You shot back, as suave as you could manage under the conditions. He threw you back so he could reset his stance.
“We’ll see about that, Ibinê,” he said, flustering you again with that mischievous grin as his native language easily rolled off his tongue.
You charged at him, and your blades collided with a loud metallic clang. Your sudden advance surprised him, he backed up a few steps. Cheers came from your audience.
“Ibinê?” You strained while your blades met again in a brute force pressing match. “What does that mean?”
Kili shoved you back and swiftly turned around, a trick he hadn’t yet revealed in your spar. He abandoned his blade somewhere off to the side and turned around again but crouched in his movement so he could swipe your legs from beneath you. You fell to the ground with a muted thud, your weapon knocked from your grasp. Kili scrambled to straddle your hips, pinning down your legs with his and your wrists above your head. You tried to fight against him, but his strength and weight are much greater than yours.
He panted above you, smiling like a cat who got the canary, “If only it were you straddling me,” he whispered under his breath and winked at you discreetly. Your chest was heaving, making your breasts ebb and flow with the rhythm. The erotic tension was palpable between you.
“We have a victor!” someone said from the sidelines to break your daze. Kili blushed and stood and helped you from the ground. Your audience clapped a little then dispersed to the camp a few feet away. You leisurely walked away from the encampment along the edge of the forest to catch your breath. The extra sway in your hips enticed Kili to follow you. He walked beside you, you looked up at him delighted he got the hint and followed you. He leaned in close to say in a voice that was deeper than normal, “Ibinê means my gem.” His words took a moment to register, causing a delayed blush to color your chest and neck.
He bit his lip as a thought played behind his eyes. Growing bold from the adrenaline still in his veins, he wrapped his hand around yours, he picked up speed till he was running. He took you far from the others. The sun was setting, painting the sky in those vivid colors only seen at dusk and dawn.
Kili slowed to a stop and used his grip on your hand to bring you in front of him. He took a step into your personal space.
“Labathmizi means I adore you.” He gingerly placed his hand on your cheek like he was handling the thinnest, most precious glass in the world. You were blushing profusely, your gaze danced from his eyes to his lips. “Abnâmulzi means you are beautiful.” He pecked his lips against yours for a moment then backed you against a tree and pinned you against it with his strong hand on your hip. His voice was low and rough with arousal, “Azralizi du-nâmrul, Ibinê, means I want to fuck you, my gem.” He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that surpassed any expectation you had. His lips were soft against yours; his hand tenderly held your cheek. You lifted your leg over his hip, his hand moved to from your hip to your thigh, and it felt like it was searing into the cloth covered skin. It slid up to your ass cheek and urged you to grind against him. You whimpered as his hardening member pressed against your soaking core. Kili met your movements, making himself hiss at the delicious friction you were both craving.
When you broke the kiss for air as lust flooded your mind and loins, “That’s really hot” was all you could manage.
You were becoming addicted to his kiss. The way his thumb would glide against your cheek and the soft, barely there little whimpers he was making as you deepened the kiss were driving you mad with need.
Your hand was on his bare shoulder and the other tangled in his hair scratching and pulling lightly on the soft brown tresses. His tongue won its fight against yours when he gyrated his hips perfectly to grind into you, causing a moan to bubble from you.
He broke away, panting. He looked at you, suddenly silent with his eyebrows pinched in a sudden focused confusion. This immediately concerned you.
You opened your mouth to ask if he was ok, but he put his finger to his lips to silence you. He closed his eyes to focus on something; dwarfs and their connection to the environment around them still confused you.
His eyes shot open in a panic, and he tore himself away from you so he could pick you up bridal style.
You clung to him as he broke out in a dash back to camp, “A pack of orc’s are coming.”  
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Taglist <3: @letmelickyoureyeballs, @nessarosefiction, @akari-rioan
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blxkstar · 3 months
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I made a playlist for all the magical (both fantasy and real) girly vibes. Whether you are in a moid for mermaids, fairies, nymphs, sirens, witches, or any other magical beings, this is the playlist for you. Please check it out!!
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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 4 months
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Part 6
Pairing: Thranduil x Fem. Reader
Themes: Soft
Warnings: Mention of Elwing casting herself into the sea prior to the beginning of the story | Mentions of other character deaths prior to the beginning of the story
Wordcount : 3.1K words
Summary: Thranduil attends the feast held in honor of Angon taking Nitiel to wife.
Minors DNI
Masterlist
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Thranduil’s POV
The feast Lord Thiliedir and Lady Annien held in honor of their son taking Nitiel to wife was a most splendid affair. 
Guests came from all over Amon Lanc. They poured through wide open doors leading to a vast garden, dressed in their finest furs and silks. Gold and silver, rubies and emeralds, glittered around the throats and lips and ears and wrists of many. Newly forged circlets rested amidst dark, crimson, and silver-gold hair that had been combed into intricate braids. Some of the visitors bore the marks of beasts and leaves and flowers along their arms and along their cheeks. Heralds called out the names of each new visitor, and attendants walked amidst the invited elves, their hands heavy with gilded pitchers full of wine and trays full of delicate pastries. Thranduil stood by his father’s side, observing lords and ladies joining an ever-growing line of those wishing to offer their felicitations to the newly wedded pair.  
“The marriage of Lord Angon and his lady has been well received.” Oropher nursed his chalice of wine, while minstrels kept to the grotto set aside for their use during the festivities. The music they played and the songs they sang drifted around the garden, barely heard over the chatter of elves and the clinking of glass. “I confess, I expected to hear and see quite the opposite when I was told the news.” 
“Were you hoping to witness the tearing of hair and the gnashing of teeth?” Thranduil whispered. He sipped his wine and then smiled. “Lord Angon’s lady mother and lord father are too well bred for such theatrics. So are their kin. If they truly are unhappy with their son taking a servant to wife, then they have taken great care not to show it.” 
“You are studying those who serve us,” said Oropher. “That is a good thing, my son. Continue it. It will serve you well should my crown pass on to you.” 
Thranduil shivered. His lord father’s demise was not a matter he wished to consider. “It will not happen,” he replied, “for you will live on for more ages than you could care to count, and then we will both take a ship leaving for the Blessed Realm so that we can be reunited with my mother.”
“That is my hope also,” his father returned. “But so long as Belegûr’s servants remain abroad, we must prepare ourselves for the dark possibility of my perishing in this land. Do you understand me, my son?” 
“Yes, father,” Thranduil told him, albeit reluctantly. 
Oropher clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Enough of such talk. Come! Let us join the throng!”  
The throng had grown in size by the time they joined them, and they had grown more carefree despite the late autumn chill. Golden lamps adorned the low-hanging branches of trees, their light limning all those who stood beneath them. Trestle tables had been arranged at the far end of the garden, with a raised dais facing them. Kitchen attendants were occupied slowly turning wooden spits and roasting wild boar and deer over a fire pit, basting the meat with honey and herbs until it crackled. The smell of freshly baked bread and pies wafted from the nearby kitchen. Even the tables themselves had large bowls placed in the center, all filled with wild berries, cheese, and olives brought in from Esgaroth. More wine was served, along with ale and mead. Thranduil joined his father while he spoke to the others, taking great care to listen to all that was being said and answering any question that was asked of him. 
It was an aspect Thranduil had long prepared himself for: the tediousness of everyday duties. He had to attend council meetings even when he wished to do nothing more than lay in bed; he had to hear out supplicants that came to him, begging for a listening ear; and he had to speak to elven nobles he had no desire to speak to, all while having a warm smile or a look of deep concern on his face. All of this he did splendidly well, which pleased his father greatly.  
“Now all you need is a bride who might one day make a fine queen,” Oropher said when they had a moment to themselves again. “Someone worthy of you, and of course, someone worthy of the crown that would rest amidst her hair.”  
‘Tis the same song as always, Thranduil thought. He forced himself not to sigh. “I will wed when my own household is ready, father,” he said through gritted teeth, and he set his jaw in determination. “And I will decide for myself whom I should marry. Me, father, and no other. Any command for me to bind myself to a stranger in a marriage of political convenience will be answered with a swift and certain no.” 
“I swear to Eru, my boy, you can be as stubborn as your beloved mother sometimes.” Oropher laughed. “And I understand the need to wait until your household is ready to receive a mistress. Pray tell me what is becoming of the halls our builders are making for you.” 
They spoke at length while they made their way to the dais. Angon and Nitiel had already taken the seats of high honor, and the king and the crown prince took their places on either side of them. Then the mother and father of Angon, and the mother and father of Nitiel, took their seats accordingly.  
Angon only waited a moment before rising, his cup in hand. “Let us drink!” He cried. “A toast, my friends! To Lady Nitiel! My wife and the companion of my life!”  
The others rose and lifted their cups. “Lady Nitiel!” They shouted as one. Nitiel flushed, and she bowed her head as a gesture of thanks.  
The first course was a dish of soup made of leeks and mushrooms, served in glazed green bowls. Lady Annien took the first spoonful to taste, and the others were served after she gave her approval. 
Lady Nitiel looks so different now, Thranduil thought. The lady who once served in the kitchens was dressed in robes sewn especially for the feast, and with colors that matched those on her husband’s tunic. Green velvet slashed with cloth of gold adorned her person. New gold caught the light of nearby lamps as they lay around her throat and around her wrists. More gold gleamed where it lay in her auburn hair. It had been combed into elaborate plaits and then arranged in a style he did not recognize.  
The gold and the robes must be gifts, no doubt, Thranduil thought, from her doting husband. The way her hair has been arranged, on the other hand…
“Forgive me,” he leaned in and said, “for asking this, but who arranged your hair?” 
Nitiel leaned in as well and lowered her voice. She did not wish for the king to hear what she had to say. “Y/n, my lord,” she said. “She helped me dress, and then she arranged my hair for me. It is the style favored by those who dwelled in a city called Alqualondë, she said, but without the adornments of shells and pearls.” 
Thranduil knew of Alqualondë, having heard the tales told by Lady Galadriel. “The style favored by the elves of Alqualondë?” he whispered, “and not the kind favored by her own people?” 
“She thought the sight of it might anger the king.”     
“Of course. It was wise of her to make such a choice. And it was thoughtful of her as well, to help you prepare for this feast.” 
The next course was a dish of sage and potato tarts, and the course that came after that was a dish of roasted boar and venison with stewed carrots and potatoes that had been boiled to a mash and mixed with cream. Thranduil ate with great relish, and he ate in silence.  
Y/n would have had to have learned the art of such arrangements from her mother, as she was born long after the first kinslaying. And it would have served her well during the years she spent wandering from one place to the next, perhaps even keeping her safe, as the few who served the sons of Fëanor and remained in the new land they had come to call home found little welcome wherever they went.  
There is the grandson, he remembered. Why did y/n not go to Lord Celebrimbor? 
It was a question he had asked when he first procured her freedom, and it was a question he thought of asking her himself, as those who held her could not give him an answer. Until the opportunity to do so presented itself, he would have to bide his time. 
A minstrel plucked at the strings of a high harp while another sang, her voice as sweet and clear as a bell. It was nowhere as lovely as Tinúviel’s otherworldly voice, Thranduil thought, nor was it as bewitching as her lady mother��s. Still, it was enchanting to hear, and a tear came to his eye when he remembered Menegroth in all of its glory. He harkened back to the days of his youth, when nightingales would make their nests in little nooks and crannies that dotted the great city of many caves, where flowers of rare beauty would bloom to life during the spring, where Daeron played the harp and Tinúviel sang, and they were sheltered from the darkness that tainted the lands beyond their own. Then the sons of Fëanor came to reclaim what was taken from their father, they had said, and to seek justice for the slaying of their grandfather.  
The sons of Fëanor came, Thranduil thought as he drained the last of his wine. The sons of Fëanor fought. And the sons of Fëanor perished. Thranduil set down his chalice when a dish of gammon pie was set before him. And the line of Melian and Thingol nearly ended because of them and that blasted Oath of theirs. 
Grief and bitterness gathered around his heart like a swarm of angry bees. Thranduil still remembered King Dior and his queen, Lady Nimloth. He remembered their sons, twins who were all of three when their father came into his inheritance, and he remembered the dreadful winter that brought about an end to Dior’s reign, the tragic fate that befell his sons, his queen, and the great city of caves they all called home.   
And then there was the daughter, the princess who was forced to abandon her own children as she was once forced to abandon her home, and cast herself into the sea after those who sought the Silmaril came for her. That too angered Thranduil—that swords were raised against those who fled the violence that fell upon their once-fair city. He remembered the dark words that were brought to them on a night with the moon and stars hidden behind thick clouds. Perhaps that was a sign, a portend of the dreadful message they were to receive. His father gave the order for their warriors to march, but by the time they reached the Havens, it was already too late. 
At least Elwing's sons lived, he thought, and I pray word of their living lives of great renown reached her ears in the Blessed Realm.  
He took the pie with both hands and bit into it. The meat melted in his mouth, as did the pastry that held it. And it tasted almost like ash against his tongue. Thoughts of the lives lost because of an Oath that could never be fulfilled tainted whatever joy the prince would have found in the food he ate. He waived away all further offers of refreshments, claiming that he was already full. 
I need to step away for a moment, he told himself, and free myself from such dark and dismal thinking.  
He rose and excused himself. “Pray allow me to take my leave of you all for a moment or two,” he said. “I will return soon enough.” 
“Of course, my lord,” Lady Nitiel said. Thranduil bowed deeply and took his leave of them. 
The air outside the manse was no less fragrant. This time, the smells that greeted him were of night-blooming flowers and not the scents of delectable dishes being brought to the table. He walked toward a nearby marble pond, listening to the little waterfall bubbling at the far end of it. There was no other elf to be seen. Most were at the feast. Others were keeping a watchful eye along the city’s high walls or tending to their duties in the palace itself, and there were those who had already retired for the night. Still, the absence of other elves was a welcomed thing, as was the cool wind that swept around his face and hair. Thranduil felt the anger and grief within him ebb away. He stopped and sat on the edge of the pond. 
Tis good to have a moment to clear my head, he thought. Tiny fish darted beneath the leaves of water lilies and around his fingers as he trailed his hand through crystal-clear water, their scales glittering with silver and gold whenever they caught the light of nearby lamps. He heard the sound of leather against stone. Another elf was walking toward him; the sound he heard was the sound of their slippers falling over polished cobble. Thranduil sighed as his peace was disturbed. Then he heard a gasp. The elf who came upon him did not expect to find him there.  
“Forgive me, my lord,” they said. “I… I was told this part of the city was empty at night.”  
“The one who told you this did not err on that score.” The prince turned to face the one who approached the pond. “This part of the city is quiet at night. And there is no need to ask for forgiveness, y/n. You have the freedom to walk about Amon Lanc; there is no one to hinder you from doing so. Pray why are you here, at such an hour?” 
“We were not needed in the kitchens.” Y/n dipped into a deep curtsy before rising again. “And the cook told me that I would not be needed on the morrow. I… I thought of seeing something of the city while the others were not about, my lord.” 
“Yes,” Thranduil smiled. “Amon Lanc feels like a city found only in fairytales when one walks about it at night. I will not say more, lest I spoil the beauty of the city for you.” He paused and decided now would be an opportune time to speak to y/n about Celebrimbor and why she did not approach him for shelter. “But I do have a question to ask of you.” 
“Go on, my lord,” said y/n. 
“That day when I procured your freedom, I was told you spent your days wandering. You put down no roots, not even with Lord Curufin’s son, Lord Celebrimbor. Why is that, y/n?” 
“Being the daughter of an attainted kinslayer made it hard for me to put down roots, my lord. And Lord Celebrimbor made it plain that anyone who served his father and his uncle would find no welcome in his home.” 
“Is it because of what happened to Lord Finrod?” 
“Yes, my lord. Lord Celebrimbor never forgave his father, nor his uncle, for that matter, for what became of Lord Finrod in the end.”  
“And so you kept away from his realm,” Thranduil said. He patted the space beside him.  
“Yes, my lord.” Y/n smoothed her skirts and sat a respectful distance away from him. Etiquette demanded it, for she was but a kitchen maid and he was the crown prince. “I did not have the stomach to bear the sight of another door closing on me, so I kept away.” 
The crown prince tried to envision what such a life would have been like: walking from place to place without a proper home to claim for oneself, selling what little possessions one had to keep oneself alive, having no friends, no family, and no one to turn to for aid. He shivered.  
Such a wretched life, he thought, and yet the lady is still here, enduring each hardship as best as she can. 
Enduring such hardships without complaint was to be expected of the Noldor; it was something minstrels waxed poetic about in story and song. Thranduil studied y/n discreetly. Her hair had grown a fraction longer, and already she looked less gaunt than she did before. The robes she wore were blue and gray, simple but well-made. A tarnished pin was all she had for an adornment. Its painted flowers had faded, and they were the likes of which Thranduil had not seen before. 
“The flowers on your pin,” he began, “are those found only in the Blessed Realm, yes?”
“Yes.” Y/n reached up and touched it. Her fingers trembled when they brushed against the filigreed silver. “My father had this made for me when I came of age. My mother painted the flowers you see in the center. This is all I have left of them.”
To have only one token left of one’s flesh and blood, and that too in a poor state, pricked at Thranduil. But it could still be saved, he thought. It could still be restored to its former glory.  
Ah, but would the goldsmiths agree to such an undertaking when the request to do so came from one such as her? Thranduil knew they would turn her away the moment they saw her standing at the door of their forge. A respected courtier who carried the order of the crown prince, on the other hand… 
“It must have great value to you.” Thranduil rose. He could not linger for much longer. The others would expect him to return to the feast without further delay. Nevertheless, he did not intend to leave until he spoke to y/n about what he had in mind. “And it can be returned to what it looked like when you first received it. Give it to Feren when you see him next. I will speak to him, and have him go to our goldsmiths. If there is anyone in Amon Lanc who could restore that pin to what it once was, it is them.” 
“I…” Y/n paused and hesitated. She lowered her gaze, took a deep, steadying breath, and then she dared to look him in the eye. A decision had been made. “Thank you, my lord.” 
Thranduil nodded. “And now you must excuse me. I must return to the feast before my father sends someone to search for me.” 
“Of course, my lord.” Y/n rose also, and curtsied to him again. “Good night, my lord.”  
“Good night, y/n,” Thranduil said. He looked back at her over his shoulder for a moment as he walked away. The sight of her beneath a spill of lamplight, her eyes sparkling as she turned to admire the fish in the pond, tugged at him in a way he could not describe.
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tags: @deadlymistletoe @coopsgirl @lemonivall @tigereyesf @thranduilseyebrows @cupids-got-me @asianbutnotjapanese @kurochan3
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sotwk · 4 months
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I'm no longer writing or accepting requests for "x Reader" stories.
I'm using a new(?) fic tag: "x unnamed OC".
I came across yet another post where Reader Insert aficionados were complaining about how some Reader Insert stories aren't properly tagged because the "Reader" has too many specific details written about them, so they're actually OCs.
Whoops--guilty!
My main takeaway from that thread is that I cannot write a "Reader Insert" as it is (apparently) supposed to be. In fact, I have not written a single "proper" Reader Insert story this whole time. Especially since I never use "y/n" and often even use an unnamed "she/her", rather than 2nd POV "you".
I will retag my current x Reader fics as "x unnamed OC" or simply "x OC". Going forward, all my Insert OC fics will be tagged as this.
I will stay open for other fic requests, but please note that I do not write Inserts in the way it is seems to be defined around here--a totally blank slate. If you would like a traditional OC or "unnamed OC" that you could imagine yourself as, then I can write that.
But if you are seeking true Reader Insert fics, I know of a few active writers I can probably recommend.
This may cost me the opportunity to draw in more new readers to my work, but it's okay. I will just have to trust in people who give OCs or semi-OCs a chance. :)
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luna-redamancy · 2 years
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Hey could I have a Kili x Reader where the reader is someone Gandalf recruited early on the adventure. She spends all her time in the woods and can even converse with animals as well as being an adept hunter and survivalist? Kili just becomes infatuated then and there
Hello!! I'm so sorry this took so long to complete, but I hope you enjoy:
“I thought you said you had another person attending, Gandalf, your apprentice?” Thorin’s words floated above the murmur of the company members as they feasted on poor Bilbo’s pantry. 
“I do, however, unfortunately, they were caught up in other matters. Do not fret, Thorin, they will meet us along the way.” 
“What matters were so important to have missed a vital meeting before we set off on this journey?” Thorin’s tone was criticizing as he imagined a young lad trying to drink himself into a stupor- 
“Medical ones,” Gandalf’s cheery disposition turned into a frown as he gazed upon the dwarf. 
“They are providing medical guidance for a town riddled with disease. I say a sobbing child with a fever needs their attention more than a group of rowdy, but otherwise healthy, dwarves.” 
“My apologies,” Thorin tilted his head to Gandalf who responded in kind. 
“I know you are anxious to meet the final member of your Company, Thorin, trust me when I say everything will fall together- in due time.” 
And that was the last they discussed the missing apprentice, your absence not being brought up again. 
The next morning, after a night of feasting and somber singing, the Company set out on their journey. 
The trees were lush and soon the rolling hills of the Shire had all but disappeared behind the horizon. Coin was shared upon the arrival of Bilbo, but the final member of the Company had still yet to arrive. 
“Gandalf,” Thorin addressed as he fell to the middle of the line where Gandalf was atop of his horse. 
“Do you know when your apprentice will be arriving?” 
“I would say–”
“Right now,” You called out, popping up next to Gandalf as you stared at the bird in your hand. It was a small old-world sparrow, happily chirping as you nodded. 
“You are-” Kili almost interrupted, the Company now halted as they stared at you awaiting introduction. 
“One moment,” You held up a finger, keeping your gaze trained on the bird, pausing in your steps. 
“Thank you,” You said after a moment, smiling at the small creature. You watched as the bird then took off, flying into the trees. 
“You’re Gandalf’s apprentice?” Balin tried this time, your gaze returning to the Company. 
“Yes, I am,” You bowed your head, “My name is (Y/n),” You greeted, your grin widening as each dwarf gave their name. 
“And you?” You stared at Kili who seemed to be starstruck, eyes wide and round as the wind shifted the leaves of the trees, making the sunlight highlight different areas of your face. Dipped in golden light. 
Fili chuckled, turning into a cough as Kili elbowed him harshly in the gut. “Kili, at your service,” he bowed his head. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you,” You turned to Gandalf, “There may be trouble along the old road,” You explained, “The sparrows have seen trolls taking livestock from farmers, they recommend to stay away.”
“Sparrows?” Bilbo questioned and before you could explain, Gandalf was quick to boast. 
“(Y/n) holds many abilities, but one of them is animal conversing, birds are her favorite.”
“They know so much,” You shrugged, as the company resumed traveling. Walking alongside Gandalf, you failed to notice the eyes trained on your form and drinking in your appearance. 
“Also, they say the population of rabbits has increased, especially towards the winding trees further north, we’re likely to be able to catch a few for supper come time to set up camp,” You were already planning your hunt in your head.
Kili felt like he was going to swoon. He was most certainly in deep, and you’ve only said a few sentences. 
Tags:  
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queeniesrose · 2 years
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Master Post
Warning: This is NSFW so if you’re under the legal age or uncomfortable with content like this, please skip over this one! Content Warning: Threesome, Face Fucking
NSFW Legolas: Kinks
Legolas is an exhibitionist. It is thrilling for him, due to his rank as an elf. The thought of someone catching him and his partner and ratting them out to his father, excites him.
Legolas loves whenever he hears his partners small whines. More often than not, the whines are so low that only elves can hear them. He has a voice kink. He loves to hear his partner whine, moan, make all kinds of different noises.
He would also be into face fucking his partner. He is a bit of a dacryphiliac. So when the waterworks start, it doesn't take long for him to come.
He is not opposed to sharing his partner with someone else on occasion.
There are very few people he is okay with sharing his partner with. Aragorn, Elladan, and Elrohir are amongst the few he would be comfortable sharing with.
He has had done a threesome with his partner and Aragorn. The position that is typically used is called the woman sandwich. Look it up if you want to see what it looks like.
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emmyspov · 1 year
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Migraine (Haldir x Reader)
author's note: a new haldir fic coming your way! this was actually my first request! :D @oneofmanyinterests - i tried to do your idea justice and hope you and everyone else who struggles with headaches and migraines can take some comfort from this 🩷
warnings: reader in pain, mentions of throwing up and medication. let me know if i missed something! :)
word count: 1.1k
edit is mine, all pics are from pinterest :)
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Your head was throbbing. Everything was too much: the noises, the lights-
Something between a whimper and a groan left your lips, alerting the elf next to you.
Haldir had come home from his most recent patrol only a few days ago and the two of you had spent every minute together, trying to make the most of it until he had to return to his duties as a marchwarden.
Carefully, he brushed his fingers down your arm. “Is it happening again, meleth?”
You nodded. It wasn’t the first time you were hit with a migraine and although they were horrible each time, having your husband at home with you helped immediately. You had come up with a routine which made the pain at least a bit more bearable and whenever Haldir had to leave, he made sure to talk to at least one of his most trusted friends or brothers to look after you in a case like this.
Immediately, the elf got up – careful not to disturb you – and closed the blinds, shutting out most of the lights.
“Would you prefer complete darkness?”
His voice was always soft when he spoke with you, but whenever he saw you in a more vulnerable state than usual, his words were even more hushed.
“Yes, please.” He blew out the lit candles around the room and heard you exhale shakily. “ Thank you, Hal.”
The pain in your voice made his heart clench in his chest. He absolutely hated to see you like, so weak and not in control at all. And there was only so much he could do which is why he would do his absolute best with the things he could help with.
After checking your shared bedchamber for strong scents and not finding anything, he quietly left the room. It soothed him a bit that he could move around without a sound so he wouldn’t add to your discomfort.
Once in the kitchen, Haldir grabbed a clean bucket in case you’d need to throw up, a big jug of water and a glass as well as some medication Elrond had brought with him during one of his more recent visits after he’d heard about your struggles. They didn’t cure the migraines, but they helped ease the pain a bit.
He quietly joined you in the bedroom again, taking in your curled up form on the bed.
“My love”, he whispered after he set down the bucket and pulled a thin blanket over you, “I brought you some water, the fluids against the pain and the ointment. Do you think you can sit up a bit? Just enough to swallow the medicine? Or at least drink some water?” An unpleased hum left your lips and Haldir knew he was asking for a lot this moment. “You can also stay like this for some more time. Can I apply the cream though?”
You slowly opened your eyes and his heart broke at the unshed tears in your eyes.
“Oh meleth, I know. I know.”
Carefully, he leaned down and pressed the gentlest kiss against your forehead. “The medicine will help a bit. Do you want me to apply it?” He knew he was repeating himself, but he needed to make sure he wouldn’t make your pain even worse.
“Yes, please.”
Carefully, the elf sat down beside you and unscrewed the lit before dipping his fingers into the juncture. When his fingers touched your forehead, you flinched.
“It hurts, Haldir.”
“I know, my starlight. You can hold my hand, here”, he whispered while he intertwined your fingers, letting you squeeze his hand.
He hurried to spread the ointment over your forehead and your temples as well as down your nose, keeping his touch always light. “Are you still with me, meleth?”
You answered by squeezing his hand and he brushed his thumb over the back of yours, not speaking another word.
The cream had to set in a bit and Haldir used the time to go back to the kitchen to prepare a cold compress and a hot water bottle.
Just a little bit later, he returned to the bed chamber, making sure to keep light and noise away from you. The only way you knew he had joined you again was by the deep connection you two shared.
“Hal”, you whispered, “can you help me sit up so I can take the medicine from Elrond?”
An affirmative hum left your husbands lips and he hurried over to your bedside, setting down the compress and the heating pad before helping you sit up. One hand was supporting your upper back while his other hand brought the little cup of medicine to your lips.
“You’re doing so well, meleth”, he whispered after you’ve swallowed everything. “Do you think you can also drink a bit of water? It’s good for you, but if you don’t feel like you can, don’t stress yourself. The fluids from Elrond will help in a bit either way.”
“I’ll try.”
“I’m so proud of you, my love.”
The elf brought the glass to your lips and you drank a few sips, immediately appreciating the fresh feeling of the water.
Before you could lay down again, Haldir put the heating pad onto the mattress where your shoulders and neck would be to help relax the muscles. He knew that migraines were not only happening in the head but affecting the whole body.
As soon as your shoulders came in contact with the warmth, a sigh left your lips and the tension between your eyebrows eased.
“Do you want me to place the ice packs on your forehead, starlight? They might dull the pain even more.”
You nodded and closed your eyes at the touch. The ellon had been right. The medicine and the water did help with the pain and the hot and ice packs were only decreasing your discomfort even further.
Meanwhile, Haldir was going through the list in his head again to make sure he didn't forget anything: he shut out the light, checked for any strong scents, made sure you took your meds, had water and cooling and heating pads on hand to help with the pain. There was nothing he had missed.
He was getting up to let you rest by yourself when you grabbed his wrist as he stood up.
“Can you stay? Please? I feel better when you’re close to me.”
A small smile took over his face. “Oh meleth, you don’t have to ask.”
Carefully, he laid down next to you and let you determine which position and how much physical contact you wanted.
Once the two of you were settled, he could see the rest of the tension leaving your body before you quietly spoke up.
“Thank you, my beloved.”
Haldir hummed. “Remember, my starlight, I will always and forever be here to help you through hard times. You’re safe with me.”
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Everything-Taglist: @shadowhuntyi @asgardianhobbit98 @fizzyxcustard
Haldir-Taglist: @ellis-peace @heilith
-> if you want to be added or removed from my taglist, just shoot me a message or an ask 🩷
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archivxx · 2 years
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ʚ♡ɞ
Lovers Rock. {masterlist}
⎯⎯⎯ ♡ ⎯⎯⎯
--Kyle Broflovski x Reader - SMAU masterlist and Prev || Next buttons no longer work.
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Desc.| You'd known Kyle and his group(or as you'd call it, posse) from being young, however, you always despised their boisterous behaviour. They always left you feeling venomous. However the feeling is mutual between you and Kyle. You always thought he was standoffish and snobby anyway.
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||"Team Craig"|| Twitter || Instagram ||
||"Team Stan"|| Twitter || Instagram ||
||“Team extra”|| Twitter ||
⎯⎯⎯ ♡ ⎯⎯⎯
Parts.|{0.01}{0.02}{0.03}{0.04}{0.05}{0.06}{0.07}{0.08}{0.09}{0.10}{0.11}{0.12}{0.13}{0.14}{0.15}{0.16}{0.17}{0.18}{0.19}{0.20}||
⎯⎯⎯ ♡ ⎯⎯⎯
||Playlist.| Spotify||apple||
[I’m an Apple Music gal…]
Extra Tweets: 🌠🌌
||Holiday Specials: loading…||
Hint.| look up characters status to know what the characters are up to!
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{Apps used for SMAU: MeMi Message, TwiNote, and PhotoNote}
{inspo creds: @777bambi}
ʚ♡ɞ
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worfs-glorious-hair · 6 months
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Pt. 1 Children of the kindly west (Kíli x Reader) — A tale of two dwarven hearts
This is a translation, more of a re-write, of a fanfiction I wrote first in German during 2013 - 2015 when the Hobbit movies premiered and I was just as obsessed and enamored by that adorable prince like everyone else. And reading the Silmarillion for the first time this year in February brought me back to middle-earth and reminded me of my love of dwarves. And this brings me here today. Enjoy! Cross-posted on AO3 here. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Warnings: None
Prologue (Erebor)
The sharp winter wind blew snow around the Erebor, whereas on the inside it was cosy and warm.
Efís, an old dwarrowdam, knew that soon the children would come and demand to hear another story. The children visited her on every afternoon during the dark winter months and she would tell them stories of her own long life, from times long gone and stories from deep of the heart and soul of their people — the stories of the dwarves of the kingdom of Erebor and beyond.
Some of these stories were true, some were not, some pretended to be one thing while actually being the other and with some, well, there was just no way of telling anymore.
Today, she decided, would she tell the children a true story from the time, when their people still lived in the blue mountains, the Ered Luin, before the Erebor was reclaimed and Smaug slain.
It was a love story, tender and pure and true but also so sad and heartbreaking that Efís had to wonder briefly for a moment if maybe the story was too much for the children to bear…
A soft knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts and she went to greet her small visitors.
A group of children, all around age twelve to 40, looked up to her with big, joyfully expectant eyes, filled with excitement about the story they were about to hear and the sweets they would get and the hospitality they would be blessed with.
„Good evening, Efís“, they all greeted with fresh, glowing faces, they must have played in the snow for a while. Their little noses and cheeks were rosy and running.
„Good evening, dears, come on in“, she ushered them inside and the children took off their boots and coats, all covered in snow and went on to sit down on plush pillows and thick furs and little stools by the fire.
While the children found their seats Efís brought them her already prepared hot mulled berry juices  and fresh gingerbread and other baked goods, some of them still hot from the oven.
The hot juice and the pastries and the little cakes helped to quickly thaw the frozen faces and frozen hands of the children.
Shortly after the first group of children had arrived, was there another knock on her door and a second group came into her chambers and also a third one after the second!
Efís had prepared a lot of her famous hot mulled juice and gingerbreads and cookies and pastries in advance and had plenty to serve to her little guests.
When everyone had their cup with hot juice and some gingerbread pieces, she sat down herself — she sat down into her armchair by the crackling fire and looked over the children, who chatted and laughed with each other, some pulling their younger siblings or cousins on their laps and Efís smiled, time to begin!
„Children!“, she said with her firm, calm voice and clapped her hands, „please calm down, do you want to hear what story I have for you today?“
The expectant faces were immediately turned to her and she nodded in approval.
„Very well, children, are you all warm and cosy?“
„Yes, yes, yes!“, they screamed but quickly got quiet again, when Efís continued to speak.
The air was filled with the scent of spices, the freshly baked pastries and the scent of the wood and the smoke in the fire. 
And there was no sound besides the soft breathing of the children, an occasionally sniffling or cough and the crackling of the fire and Efís’ kind, wise voice.
„Today I will tell you a love story — it began many, many winters ago, long before my own birth and when our people still lived in the blue mountains far in the west of middle-earth, far, far away from here…
It was winter and snow had covered all of the mountains with a coat of white wonder. Just like here.
Hardly any dwarf was out on the streets on that day, when our story began, but instead everyone was in their warm houses and occupied themselves with activities for snowy afternoons. 
And so did the heroine of our story as well…
She sat by her window by candle light and read one of her favourite books. 
She loved reading stories of big adventures, courage, friendship, honour, loyalty and love. But her desire to experience such a story herself was dim in the background of her heart, she was happy and content with the life she had and she lived it with joy.
Our heroine also had a little sister, named Syniver, a grey pony and her father was a beloved and popular goldsmith in the town.
To put it simply — she lived a calm, comfortable life and did not know yet, how could she know, that her future was waiting for her. And that her future was not as calm and comfortable as her current life.
And she also did not know that she would soon meet the one again after many, many years, who would seal her fate and destiny.
The one person who would also be her One…
So at the moment was she only feeling peace and contentment, while she happily soaked up her favourite story but not for long anymore. Because her mother called for her, rather impatiently, from downstairs…“
Efís looked around in the children’s faces who had all listened to her with as much attention as they were able to give.
She took a sip of her own mulled juice and continued telling the story that her own grandfather had told her when she was just a girl herself.
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felagund-the-valiant · 2 months
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Bring Back What Once Was Mine - Finrod x gn!reader
After the War of the Ring, you return home to Valinor, hoping to finally be reunited with your husband.
Words: 1k Tags: mix of fluff and angst, mention of canon character death, bilbo makes a cameo because why not
A/N: “being reunited after a long time“ is one of my favourite tropes, it‘s the perfect mix of angst and fluff. also i feel like finrod‘s apparent psychic abilities get overlooked way too often in fics, so i had to include them.
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You never would have thought you’d see the white shores of Valinor again, after thousands of years. Waves of nostalgia washed over you as the grey ship approached the harbour. Memories of more innocent times passed through your mind. Of being young and in love with Findaráto, of a blissful marriage before the darkening. You wondered if he had decided to return to Arda, if there was a chance you’d finally see him again.
You still vividly remembered the day Orodreth had sought you out to tell you your husband wasn‘t returning from his mission. Up until that moment, you had been praying to the Valar that Findaráto’s vision had deceived him – that he simply hadn‘t interpreted it correctly. You were still amazed that you hadn‘t faded away right then and there, your fëa seemingly torn apart.
“What a magnificent sight!” You were drawn from your sombre thoughts by the elderly hobbit next to you, whose eyes were full off fascination. You couldn’t conceive what it was like to see the Blessed Realm for the first time, but you imagined it must have been overwhelming. “Your stories haven’t done it justice, (Y/N). I never could have imagined such beauty.” You simply smiled politely and nodded. Normally you delighted in engaging Bilbo’s worldly curiosity (only Eru knew just how many stories you had told him about Findaráto specifically), but the inner tension was robbing you of the energy to engage in conversation. What if he hadn’t returned? What if he would never want to return? Shaking off the thought, you told yourself to hold off on the negativity.
Stepping off the ship beside Artanis felt almost surreal. You had been gone for thousands of years and now it felt like you had only left yesterday. A large crowd of elves was gathered at the docks, each of them hoping to be reunited with their friends or loved ones, just like most passengers on your ship. For a moment you thought you had spotted Findaráto,  but on second glance it turned out to be your father-in-law and you were once again stunned at how much his eldest son took after him. Your mother-in-law stood beside her husband, hope shining in her eyes as she scanned the descending passengers.
Artanis called out to her parents in delight and the three of them came together in a tight hug. You lingered behind a little, not wanting to intrude on the moment. It didn‘t take long for Arafinwë and Eärwen to take note of your presence, however, and you were taken into their arms as well. Has he returned? you wanted to ask but Arafinwë seemed to have already read your mind. “Yes,“ he simply said, “but he does not dwell with us, as much as it pains us. He seeks solace and only rarely comes to see us.“ Your heart sank. You knew how much Findaráto adored his family and to avoid them like this was entirely out of character. The horrors of his death must have still haunted him too much. Not that you could blame him – your own dreams had been haunted for weeks by what had been described to you of his death.
You strolled along the beach, following the directions Findaráto’s parents had given you. After a while, a house appeared in the distance – sitting lonely and far away from other dwellings. A lump formed in your throat. What would you even say to him? What would his condition be after what his father had told you? The questions  echoed in your mind until you finally reached the house. It was simple enough, clearly not meant for more than two people.
A familiar, beloved voice reached your keen ears and at last you saw him. Harp on his lap, feet dangling across the water, Findaráto sat on the pier singing a song you knew all too well – he had written it for you in the beginning of your courtship. “Findaráto!” You exclaimed, adrenaline filling your entire body. He turned around at the call of his name and when he spotted you, he hastily sat aside his harp and started rushing to meet you half-way. The two of you collided so hard it almost sent you toppling onto the ground. You couldn’t tell who cried harder.
Even after thousands of years, his smell had remained the same – a mix of lavender and berries, with a hint of sea salt. You breathed him in deeply, feeling the tension leave your body and being replaced by a sensation you could only describe as coming home. Hopefully he felt the same. Entangling yourself a little from his embrace, you finally gazed upon his face. Not a thing had changed, even if this was not his original body – that one would forever rest in the depths of drowned Beleriand. One of your hands came up to caress his cheek and he leaned into the touch immediately. “I have missed you so much,” you whispered. It was an immense understatement, there were no words that could adequately describe the feeling of abruptly having half of your fëa ripped from you. “Me, too,” he whispered back and bent down to nuzzle your nose and press a tender kiss to your lips, sighing as he did so.  
“I knew you‘d come back to me, I just didn‘t know when,“ Findaráto said, a shadow briefly passing over his face. He didn‘t need to elaborate, you knew he was talking about him having had yet another vision. Your heart ached at the thought of how exhausting it must have been for him these past millennia, living in constant uncertainty as to when he would finally be reunited with his beloved, as his visions had promised. Did these promises make him leave the halls early, foregoing valuable time of healing? You decided to push the oncoming guilt away for now. There was plenty of time for these conversations to be had later.
“Well, I‘m here now, and you best believe I‘m not going anywhere anytime soon.“ It wasn’t a mere promise. Nothing would ever divide the two of you again and no amount of sinister visions would be able to change that.
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Along for the ride, to Erebor - Part 4
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5
Summary: Transported to Middle Earth, you must Join Thorin Oakenshield's Company as they travel to reclaim Erebor! OR: My take on the classic 'modern girl in Middle Earth' troupe. This is the second installment, so we are following the second movie of The Hobbit trilogy, and falling deeper in love with Kili on the way! This is the first part for the second movie.
Tags: Kili / Reader, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Modern Character in Middle Earth, During The Hobbit, How Do I Tag, Canon-Typical Violence, Kíli Is a Little Shit (Tolkien), implied soulmates, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Freeform, light smut, it's really just a brief description nothing too detailed, Holding Hands, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Thorin Oakenshield Company Members, Dwalin & Thorin Oakenshield Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Where In Middle-Earth Is Gandalf?, Hair Braiding, Dwarf Courting, My First Tumblr Fic, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fíli & Kíli & Thorin Live, Thorin Oakenshield Lives, Fíli Lives (Tolkien), Kíli Lives (Tolkien), this chapter is domestic as hell, sword fight training, kili is a big ole softy and i love him so much for it
Word Count: 4,977
A/N: Hey y'all!! It's been a crazy couple of months let me tell ya! good god! I've decided to finally post the next part of the story to tumblr despite it not having been beta read. I'll use you guys as my guinea pigs lol so if you see anything that doesn't make sense or is spelled wrong, I'm begging you to please tell me. I can't wait to hear what you think about my pride and joy! <3
Image credit: @iamjaynaemarie
Divider credit: @cafekitsune
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The company climbed down the tall rock into the forest below. Having rested on the long flight over, everyone was prepared for a day of walking. Nothing notable happened except innocent conversation to pass the time and the forging of grapes with Bilbo for a snack.
The sun dipped closer to the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees. Thorin found a small river to make camp nearby. Gloin made the fire then Bombur started cooking the food. While the stew was being made, Fili and Kili practiced their swordsmanship under the watchful eyes of Thorin and Dwalin to provide guidance. The dwarves had found a log and brought it over beside the fire. You knelt in the grass on the fire’s side parallel to the log. The others were leaning against it on the opposite side, smoking pipes and making jokes and commentary about the training. You pulled out your thread spools and measured out the first color. You realized you didn’t have scissors and asked the merry gathering in front of you if they did.
“Nah lass,” Dori said, “Our weapons aren’t sharp enough to cut thread, they’ll only fray it” He kicked Nori to quiet him when he started to protest the quality of his weapons, “You’ll want to ask Thorin to borrow his sword.”
You swallowed thickly and looked over at the man in question where he stood with his arms crossed next to Dwalin. He always intimated you but approaching him alone to ask a favor made anxiety spike straight through you.
They were several feet away, but the clanging of metal was still quite loud. The brothers had removed their shirts, as men often did, to escape the insulated heat it provided. Not that you were complaining, eye candy is always welcome in a world of forests and furs.
You timidly approached the taller man as he instructed the brothers. You waited till they started fighting again to say in a shy voice: “Um Thorin?”
He glanced at you to acknowledge your inquisition, “Yes, what is it?” He sounded impatient.
“May I please borrow your sword?” You pointed to the weapon strapped to his side, “I need it to cut some thread” You tried not to sound as scared and skittish as you felt. He looked at you blankly for a moment, surprised by your question.
Kili threw his brother back several feet, allowing him a few seconds to turn to you with a confident smile.
“Hey Y/N,” Kili said, making you and Thorin look at him. You couldn’t help but smile and sheepishly blush as you tried not to ogle his ripped upper body dripping in sweat.
“Hi Kili” you swayed back and forth a little without realizing it. Thorin took note of your fond reaction to his nephew.
Fili let out a mighty roar as he jumped on the back of his brother, taking advantage of his distraction. The dwarves on the log laughed and you giggled at them as they goaded each other on.
“I’ve got you now brother!” Fili triumphantly exclaimed.
“I think not!” Kili replied with a strong thrusting attack.
Thorin sighed, “Very well” He untied his sheathed sword from his belt and handed it to you. You thanked him and began walking back to your previous spot. He looked at the line of dwarves who were still chuckling lightly against the log, “Make sure she doesn’t kill herself” he said to them. They all nodded, including Balin who found this ironic remembering their conversation about leaving you in Rivendell. It would seem the dwarf king was taking a liking to you.
You kneeled, unsheathed the great Goblin Cleaver a few inches, and positioned the hilt between your knees, so it stayed standing on its spine. You measured 7 lengths of thread at about three feet and rubbed them against the fine elfin blade which cut them in one pass to make makeshift embroidery thread. You repeated that 5 times to end up with two groups of pink, two groups of blue, and one group of black thread. You did your best to keep them separated as you bunched them together to fold them in half and tie a loop at the end that you could hook onto a button of your coat. You sheathed the sword and returned it to Thorin knowing he wouldn’t like being without his weapon. You sat on the side of the log with everyone else and secured your coat in your lap so you could pull taught against the threads. You separated the threads and began knotting them over and across each other like how you learned to make friendship bracelets at summer camp. It gave your hands something to do as you sat idly watching the boys trash talk then turn serious and start fighting again.
“What are ya makin’ Y/N?” Ori asked as he watched you.
“I’m making a bracelet” You replied, pleased to see the others taking an interest in your crafting.
“Why’s that lass?” Bifur leaned over to see what you were doing exactly.
“So I can eventually make one for everyone else” You explained how it’s a tradition of sorts in your world to make bracelets for those you care about as a show of kinship and the enduring strength of your friendship and bond. “Since I can’t fight beside you all on the battlefield yet, I thought this could be another way I show my commitment to the company” You smiled at the group. You’d grown very fond of them during your travels and hoped they enjoyed your company as much as you did theirs.
“That’s a very sweet tradition, Y/N,” Balin said, “We look forward to receiving your gifts” The rest of the dwarves confirmed it with ‘Aye’s and a strong nod of the head.
“Supper!” Bombur called while stirring the pot. Everyone got in line except the training group who was going one last round. You all sat down in your previous spots along the log to see the finale of the night’s training.
You finished your dinner quickly so you could take advantage of the distracted troublemakers as well as the river on the other side of the hill. You grabbed your bag and told Gandalf you were going to the river to wash up. You knew he’d keep an eye on the dwarf who often followed you like a puppy and missed you when you weren’t by his side.
You see, Kili had to share most of his things with his brother; toys, motherly attention, food, and this included the women he was interested in. They usually fell for Fili because he was more mature, older, and looked more dwarfish than Kili who had very fine features for a dwarf and was five years younger than his brother. He initially assumed it would happen again with you, so when you didn’t show any interest in his brother, only in him, he couldn’t put into words how happy it made him.
At the river’s edge, you placed your bag and makeshift towel (your shirt from your old world) on a rock and took off your clothes. The water was chilly but nothing a sit by the fire couldn’t fix. You washed your hair and body with the elfish soap you got in Rivendell. As you rinsed in the steady current of the water your thoughts began to wander to what Gandalf said about your predicament.
You felt pulled to Kili, he brought comfort and calmness to a feeling you didn’t even know was in need. His smile and his laugh, every memory and moment you made and shared with the handsome prince of Erebor begged you to stay in Middle Earth.
It was decided then.
When you stood to squeeze the water from your hair you noticed the sun was beginning to set. The others would want to bathe too, or at the very least wash their hands. You dried off and dressed and took a deep breath to enjoy the welcomed privacy one last time.
You reappeared beside the wizard, “Thank you, Gandalf, that was very much needed” You sat next to him on the ground in front of the fire to warm up. “I may be traveling with brutes, but I needn’t smell like one” You joked. He chuckled over his pipe at this.
“I’ve decided to stay here Gandalf.” You informed him. “Something about this place is calling me to stay.” You needn’t tell him about the intense pull to Kili, right?
“Splendid my dear,” He smiled fondly at your decision. “I’m sure you’ll find Middle earth rather agreeable.”
You smiled up at him, happy to have his support.
The boys were still going at it. Kili was making a great effort, but Fili got the upper hand, making Kili’s sword fly out of his hand and sail through the air to stick in the ground. Kili kept fighting though, trying to get Fili’s sword from him. Fili had to force him to the ground with his arms pinned before Kili surrendered.
“Good job lads, good work,” Thorin said as he helped them up. Coins were exchanged against the log from the bets the company members made. The boys started walking towards their bags, but Kili swerved at the last moment to approach you. Your hair was still slightly damp from the river, so it was obvious you’d just bathed. Being the mischievous sweaty dirt-covered mess he was, Kili held his arms out to you for a hug. You watched him in horror as he continued to walk towards you.
“Ew, no Kili stop!” You held your hand up to stop him but to no avail.
“Awe Y/N, just one hug?” Kili pleaded with puppy dog eyes.
You quickly stood and laugh a little at his persistence, “Don’t you fucking dare!” you said and dashed away.
“Come on Y/N, no need to play hard to get!” Kili strained as he chased you around the log and back toward your bags.
“Aaahh!” You made a sharp turn to narrowly avoid a grimy Fili, who stepped in your path, the little shit. This closed the gap so Kili could grab your arm and pull you toward him.
“Nonononononono!” you pleaded as he wrapped his beefy arms around your shoulders, making sure to rub his sweaty dirty face against your hair and pet the side of your face with his equally dirty hand. “Kili!” you drew out the last syllable in complaint.
“You smell so good” He had the nerve to say.
“You smell like Ori’s unwashed socks!” You pushed at his chest still trying to get away. Everyone chuckled at this. “Get off me, ya big olaf” you managed to wriggle out of his grasp, “I’m not coming anywhere near you till you bathe,” you said dead serious, and pointed to the river.
“As you wish” Kili bowed with a smirk, he grabbed his bag on his way to the river to join his brother. You sat in your by the fire with a small smile that seemed permanent whenever you were around him.
You were working on your bracelet when the brothers returned. The sun had dipped below the horizon making darkness seep into the crevasses of the world. Kili sat behind you on the same long stone Gandalf was perched on and touched the ends of your miraculously dry hair (the elvish soap is magic idk). You stiffened at the unexpected but not necessarily unwelcome contact.
“Can I braid your hair Y/N?” he asked innocently as pink dusted his cheeks. You whipped around aggressively, pulling your hair out of his hand in the process.
“No cause you’re just going to get it all tangled and I’m going to have to spend all night brushing it out!” You weren’t looking forward to that, you thought he was just trying to prank you. Kili’s pout was as cute as ever.
“My dear,” Gandalf budded in before Kili could sulk away, “Braiding hair in dwarfish culture is similar to your tradition of making bracelets for friends, but they take it much more seriously.”
“How much more seriously?” You asked, intrigued about the nature of Kili proposition.
“It’s like…” The wizard took a draw from his pipe while he thought of the words to properly explain it to you, “asking someone to dance, it’s special and a more intimate way of getting to know someone.”
“So, like a date?” You tilted your head in question. You understood his analogy; braiding allows both people to show their level of craftsmanship and commitment, with the added benefit of practicality and looking very nice in the end when done with love and care.
“A bit” Gandalf smiled at your naiveite, “Just know our dear Kili is not trying to prank you when he asks to braid your hair, quite the opposite” He took another draw from his pipe and looked back at the fire.
“In that case, you may braid my hair Kee” You flipped your hair back over your shoulder. You couldn’t see the beaming smile that grew on his handsome face. You dug through your bag to find the hairbrush and other trinkets from Rivendell which you handed to Kili. He kept them in his lap while he brushed your hair. If he came across a knot, he was sure to be incredibly gentle. You enjoyed the physical contact and attention very much.
“Any requests?” He asked sounding confident in his abilities.
“Whatever you think would look best” You couldn’t help but smile a little.
He used your brush to part your hair down the middle. He started braiding at your nape closest to the part. After that you didn’t pay very much attention to what he was doing, instead just relished the experience.
He finished one side and secured it with a bead from your stash, “How’s that feel, too tight?”, he asked and adjusted pieces here and there to make it lay perfectly.
“It feels great!” You chirped happily. You reached a hand to feel what he’d done so far but he shooed it away.
“Not yet, you’ll ruin the surprise!” He started working on the other side.
By the time he was done, you were so relaxed you’d almost fallen asleep on his leg.
“Done!” he said, you could tell he was very pleased with his work, “How do you like it?” He sounded a bit nervous.
You ran your fingers over the braids, feeling how they turned and curved at certain points and went straight in others.
“Kili this is amazing!” You said, very happy with the state of your hair. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you!” You looked back at him with a smile that was as big as his.
“I’m afraid I can't properly reciprocate though, I don’t know how to braid hair like this, I can only do normal braids.” You regretted never having learned how to French braid now more than ever. “If that’s how this works” You quickly corrected in a slight panic.
He was elated you wanted to return his deed at all, “That’s fine!” He tried not to sound too excited and be cool about it, “I can teach you if you want” he offered.
“I’d appreciate that!” You smiled.
You switched places, so he was sitting between your legs facing the fire. The position was innocent, but his thoughts were anything but. Images of your face beautifully contorted in pleasure from his tongue exploring your most private and intimate parts were most welcomed.
“May I take this out?” you lightly touched the silver clip that held his hair out of his face.
“Sure” He happily shrugged. You dug through his brown hair where the clasp was supposed to be, but your trembling hands couldn’t find it in all his hair.
After he heard you huffing and puffing and hadn’t felt his hair fall from the clip he asked in a soft voice, “Do you need help?”
“Yes,” you sighed, embarrassed you couldn’t even get a damn clip undone. He reached back, and struggled for a few seconds but undid the clasp, and handed it to you.
While you brushed his hair you thought of what you should do to it, or more what you could do with his hair given your limited abilities. You brushed through a few knots if any.
“I think I know what I want to try to do,” You touched the sides of his head just above his temple, “I want to do two small braids on the sides of your head, but I want the topmost part of your hair not to be braided.”
“Let’s try it!” He explained how you needed to part the hair and how to get started. You had his head lying against your thigh in an admittedly awkward and uncomfortable position, but he was quite the trooper. You had to restart the first braid three times but, in the end, he talked you through it and you tied it off with a bead.
“How did you learn to braid so well” you asked, struggling to grip all the pieces of the second braid properly and not pull the strands out of his head.
“My mother was insistent I learned. She knew my brother would have no trouble learning this facet of courting, but she feared I would spend all my time shooting arrows and never learn how to properly court girls.” He talked fondly of the memories, “So one summer when I was about to come of age, I came home from running amuck every day and she’d sit me down at her tapestry’s and make me braid the tassels that ran around the border.”
“Were you any good?” You asked curiously.
“Oh yes, I was very good! For a while, I was even better than Fili!” He was very proud of that.
“Why did he get better than you? Lean forward please,” you politely asked.
“He’s quite the lady’s man, so he had plenty of girls to practice on,” Kili sounded like that brought up memories that weren’t very pleasant. You finished the second braid with a bead like the first.
“Lay your head down for me again” You softly asked, gingerly guiding his head to lay against your other thigh, “Awe, baby Kili didn’t get any coochie did he” You fake pouted to tease him, gently scratching his scalp absentmindedly while you rested your neck for a moment. He liked it, more than he’d care to admit. “I’m in the same boat I’m afraid” You parted the other side of his hair.
“Oh? How so?” He was very surprised by this, “I’d have thought men were practically throwing themselves at you.” This made you laugh and blush.
“I’m awfully flattered you think that highly of me…” You took a moment to focus on a particularly difficult part, “But men from my world didn’t talk to me.”
“I find that completely unbelievable.” He was floored by this.
“I’m serious! I was never asked out on a date and the few times I asked for someone’s number they turned out to be self-centered losers with a ton of issues” You hated how much time you’d wasted on them. He couldn’t wrap his head around that and had to hold his tongue from proclaiming his thoughts of your perfection.
He turned to look at you despite your protests, “Then they are truly blind,” He couldn’t have been more sincere. His eyes blazed in the firelight with a mix of ferocity and sadness on your behalf.
“Thank you, Kee,” You smiled at him. He assumed his previous position so you could end the braid with a bead like the two before and then started on the last one, “And those silly girls are truly blind as well.” You wanted to kiss his slightly flushed cheek.
You were both in your own little world, where the troubles of the outside couldn’t get to you…or the onlookers and peanut gallery for that matter. Gandalf had moved to sit with the company who had been watching from across the fire on the other side of the log since Kili finished your first braid. They couldn’t quite hear your conversation, but they knew their beloved Kili was having the time of his life.
Fili was very proud of his brother. He talked about you all the time, was looking at you all the time; the man was whipped. Fili had to hear about you the entire time he was bathing, poor thing, and he finally got fed up with his brother not making a move.
“Kili, just ask to braid her hair for god’s sake” Fili huffed while he waited for his brother to finish in the river. Kili’s eyes lit up like a forge with the breath from bellows, and his face flushed like he did when he hammered out a new blade.
“I think I will,” Kili nodded, distracted by thoughts of engaging in such an informal and somewhat intimate act.
Thorin was very pleased you were trying to repay his nephew’s advances in equal measure. He’d seen the poor boy flounder with crushes in the past as he tended to be immature, and girls mistook that for uncaring and unable to provide. Something about you brought out the best in his nephew though, he’d never seen him act so mature, for this Thorin was willing to stay some of his distrust and pessimistic opinions about outsiders, at the very least about you.
By the time you finished the last braid, Kili had made himself very comfortable against your leg, with his arm wrapped around your calf, fidgeting with the laces of your boot. He looked so tranquil you hesitated to tell him you’d finished, not ready to leave the sanctuary you were in. You leaned back against your hand while you stared into the fire and gently scratched the nape of his neck.
He hummed half asleep, “Mmm that feels good,” His words were a little slurred, but it made him all the cuter.
You stayed like that till your bottom began to protest the hard rock beneath you. He was right on the cusp of sleep when you shook your leg beneath him, gentle with guilt.
“Kili, I gotta get up,” You softly tried to rouse him. He hummed in protest. “Besides, don’t you want to know how the braids turned out?” You admired your work with pride.
He sat up and stretched to wake his muscles then ran a hand over his new braids, “Wow Y/N! These are so good!” He looked back at you impressed, “You picked up on that fast!”
“Thanks, Kee!” You blushed as you ran a hand over the intricate lines in your hair, “They aren’t half as good as yours, but I think I did great for my first time” You smiled, pleased with yourself.
“Come show us!” someone from the log called, followed by various iterations of the same thing from others. Ever supportive, they were eager to see what you’d both made.
Kili stood and you followed him to the log. You turned so he could show off his creation. The dwarves were very impressed, a few coming up to inspect closer. When Kili turned to show your work, the company was even more impressed given it was your first time.
“Next time you’ll have to make beads for her, Kee” Fili teased making him and Bofur laugh at how Kili blushed.
“Make beads? What does that mean?” You asked the group in confusion.
“You’ll understand when the time comes,” Thorin said in an uncharacteristically happy tone. “For now, we shall rest” With that everyone began prepping their bedding for the night.
You laid your bed roll beside Kili’s like usual, but Bombur reminded you to clean the dishes before they were put away. Gandalf accompanied you so you could see with the light of his staff. Everyone was asleep when you returned to camp, except Thorin who was on watch.
When you sat on your bedroll, which was naturally next to Kili’s, he looked up at you, barely awake with a dopey smile.
“You look so pretty,” he said quietly, drawing out the last syllable of pretty. Red bloomed over your cheeks and down your neck. He loved your hair like that, he loved it even more that he was the one who did it.
“Go to sleep, Kee,” You whispered so you didn’t wake the others, but couldn’t help but smile as you lay on your bedroll next to him.
“But then I can’t look at you” He pouted, quite distraught about this revelation in his sleepy daze.
“Well, no, I suppose you can’t…” You nibbled your bottom lip as you thought of a solution, “Would holding hands appease you, sleepy prince?” you asked and held out the hand that wasn’t cuddling your coat to your chest. He was too out of it to catch your nickname for him. He nodded and held your hand in his, making both your hearts beat just a little faster.
You closed your eyes and rubbed your face against your coat to find a comfortable position. You could feel his eyes on you.
You opened your eyes to see him staring directly at you, “Good night, Kili” you said in a strong nonnegotiable tone.
He hummed and smiled and closed his eyes, “Good night, Y/N.”
~~~
Kili felt your hand grow tighter around his, drawing him from sleep. Then he felt you pulling against it like you were trying to alert him to danger in the camp without making a sound. He opened his eyes ready for war and saw no danger. He looked at you confused but realized you weren’t awake. You were whimpering and mumbling as your head thrashed from side to side.
‘She’s having a nightmare’ he quickly thought. He squeezed your hand and gently shook it.
“Y/N” He tried not to let his worry raise the volume of his voice, “Wake up.”
You didn’t respond, your mumbles turned into clear pleas for help, making him fret even more.
“Y/N!” He shook your shoulder vehemently, “You need to wake up” He had an urgency in his voice. You feebly fought against his hold on your shoulder.
“Please!” you gasped, still breaking from the nightmare when you opened your eyes, “No, please let go!” You begged and continued to push against his hand with tears in your eyes, not knowing who he was while sleep still clouded your vision and mind.
“Y/N, Y/N look at me” he moved his hand from your shoulder to the side of your neck and cheek to call your attention to him, “It was just a dream, you’re safe now.” When you met his eyes, he recognized just how rattled you were.
You were breathing rapidly, and tears were making your eyelashes sparkle in the firelight. He could feel your rapid heartbeat where his hand laid over your pulse point. He could tell you were beginning to wake up because you softly uttered his name and the hand that was fighting his on your neck gently wrapped around his wrist.
“You’re safe, I promise,” His eyebrows were pinched together in worry. You nodded and took a deep breath to try to keep the tears away. It’d been a very long time since you’d had a nightmare that bad.
Kili pulled your bedroll closer to his, “Come here,” He gave you a hug to comfort you, “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked when you pulled back from the hug too look at him. You laid your head on his upper arm and kept your cuddle coat close to your chest.
“I-I was in a forest at night and there were goblins and orcs and Wargs coming to attack me and-” You were talking quickly, the bad dream still too real, “and I was all alone and I couldn’t defend myself…” You trailed off, the waver in your voice making it hard to talk. “I was so scared, Kili,” You tried to curl into yourself.
“Hey hey hey, look at me” He held the side of your face again, “You’re safe,” he said. You took a deep breath and nodded. “I’d never let anything happen to you, aye?” He promoted you to get you out of your head. You took another deep breath and nodded.
“I’m ok” you repeated “I’m ok.”
“Yes, there ya go!” He nodded, relieved you were coming around. His thumb swept over your cheek to wipe a tear. You took a few minutes to calm down. Kili was falling asleep, but he needed to know you were going to be ok.
“Thank you, Kee,” you said, your whispered voice no longer shaking with fear, he gave a hearty nod in reply before he yawned. His arm was going numb where your head was lying on it, but it was worth it when you rubbed your face against it to get comfortable as you did in that way, which he found utterly adorable. You appreciated the physical comfort you would have never had in your world.
“I’ll teach you how to fight tomorrow” he whispered over a yawn, his eyelids getting heavy again. He moved his hand from your neck to hang over your waist. He wanted to pull you into him, so you’d feel protected on all sides, not for any other selfish deeply personal reasons of course, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.
“I’d like that very much,” you smiled and watched as he fell back asleep, not snoring but breathing heavily in that way which you found so adorable. You felt safe with his hand on your waist and fell asleep not long after him with thoughts of training together dancing behind your eyes.
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5
Taglist: @letmelickyoureyeballs
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edensrose · 1 year
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. ˚◞♡ 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒌𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕and he descended upon arda in power and majesty greater than any other of the valar, as a mountain that wades in the sea and has its head above the clouds and is clad in ice and crowned with smoke and fire.
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. ˚◞♡ 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒐𝒖𝒔◞ ₊˚﹕
˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦◞ꕥ
꒰ he can't help it, you're just so pretty to look at ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ he just so happens to walk in on you crying ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬◞ꕥ
꒰ you decide to play the 'I want a baby prank' on him ꒷꒦ texts ꒷꒦ ft. valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ how the dark lord kisses you ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴?◞ꕥ
꒰ you adore messing with him, so you decide to dodge his kisses ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ the first time that melkor laid eyes on you, a maia of manwë ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯◞ꕥ
꒰ he really tries not to, alas he can't help but get a bit jealous ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft.ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦◞ꕥ
꒰ melkor finds himself fascinated with his s/o's modern world ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft.mairon ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦?◞ꕥ
꒰ he knows it's silly, but he can't help to see green with your ex around ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘰𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ being in a relationship with the dark lord has its perks ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹
. ˚◞♡ 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇◞ ₊˚﹕
˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ he's so comfortable, how could you not fall asleep on his lap? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘵◞ꕥ
꒰ you gift him the news of your successful pregnancy ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ he wakes up to you lost in nightmares and comforts you ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘯𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ angband was always typically cold thanks to melkor's presence. the least he could do was compensate for the iciness you have to deal with ꒷꒦ 1k follower event ꒷꒦ 800 ꒷꒦ ft. mairon ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦◞ꕥ
꒰ what if the dark lord had a daughter? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹
. ˚◞♡ 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕
˚◞❀˳ 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦◞ꕥ
꒰ manwë finds himself at the foot of utumno, begging the one he calls brother to return ꒷꒦ drabble ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 ◞ꕥ
꒰ it's something that he has always feared, losing you ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶◞ꕥ
꒰ tragedy strikes a day before you can wed the man that you love — manwë. and all thanks to a debt. turns out that in order to pay for their sins, your family gives you up to none other than a notorious name in the business world: melkor, who has taken quite the liking to you. what happens when you're forced to break things off with your fiance with but a text? ꒷꒦ modern au ꒷꒦ 2.5k ꒷꒦ ft. melkor ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧◞ꕥ
꒰ you were the lover of mairon, one of the most precious things in his life. how did his love become his only weakness ꒷꒦ 1k follower event ꒷꒦ 1.5k ꒷꒦ ft. mairon ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ accidents happen, unfortunately, this is not something that the dark lords can ever fix ꒷꒦ ft. mairon ꒱ ₊˚⊹
. ˚◞♡ 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕
˚◞❀˳ 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵◞ꕥ
꒰ melkor decides that it's about time he teaches his brother a thing or two about pleasuring a women, what better way to practice than on his doll of a maia? how could you possibly pass up a chance at being bedded by two valar? ꒷꒦ 2.9k ꒷꒦ ft. melkor ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ what it's like to be with melkor beneath the sheets ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯?◞ꕥ
꒰ you decide to surprise your lover by asking him to join you in the shower ꒷꒦ imagine ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩◞ꕥ
꒰ melkor can't help it, it's his pleasure to overstimulate you ꒷꒦ imagine ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦◞ꕥ
꒰ surely your beloved wouldn't mind a few dirty texts while he's a work, right? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘶𝘣𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘶◞ꕥ
꒰ you just so happen to accidentally summon an incubus ꒷꒦ multiwork ꒷꒦ ft. valar ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ ever wondered what his cum tastes like? ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱?◞ꕥ
꒰ he just so happens to stumble in on you touching yourself. . . and decides to watch ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
. ˚◞♡ 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌◞ ₊˚﹕
˚◞❀˳ 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦◞ꕥ
꒰ he's obsessed with you, and now you're pregnant with his child ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ yandere!melkor ꒷꒦ ft. mairon ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 & 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴◞ꕥ
꒰ yandere alphabet with melkor ꒷꒦ headcanons ꒷꒦ part 2 ꒷꒦ part 3 ꒱ ₊˚⊹
˚◞❀˳ 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘶◞ꕥ
꒰ the ever deadly, ever-devious leader of one of the most renowned mercenary syndicates in arda takes an interest in you ꒷꒦ dark!melkor ꒷꒦ multiwork ꒷꒦ ft. ainur ꒱ ₊˚⊹
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