#why are you so happy thorin hmmm???

[lordoftherazzles]

Hi! First of all I love your writing 💖 I got curious about the trope wheel, and I got Soulmate AU and Scars! Quite a lucky spun in my opinion! Hope it inspires you if you are in the mood for writing 💖

Hello hello!! First and foremost, thank you so much for your kind words, and of course for spinning the wheel!! :) I'm sorry this took so long, January decided to be a really mean month, but I'm slowly crawling out of my funk.

Anyway, I knew when I saw this message that I had to dive back into one of my plot bunnies that is actually a soulmate au! Whether this scene makes the final cut of the fic, or gets an overhaul, or whatever, who knows. But I wanted to convey the soulmate part, while dealing with literal scars. I hope this will suffice for your trope wheel spin!!

→ Heartstones (plot bunny)

To say that Bilbo felt guilty would be an understatement. How foolish he had been to drift too deep into the water all to check out a glistening stone at the bottom? He felt for these dwarves, and while he didn’t quite understand the whole ‘heartstone’ explanation, he understood enough. It was similar to his own plight of being an unclaimed bachelor of Hobbiton. His need to help Thorin find some mystical gem knew no bounds, and it almost caused him to drown.

Luckily, that wasn’t the case.

Laying on the grass and looking no better than a drowned rat, Bilbo was sure his face was soon to catch on fire with how red it was. Staring upward towards a water-logged dwarf who had fished him out of the water as soon as he’d sunk beneath the surface, Bilbo wasn’t sure what it was he could say. A simple ‘thank you’ wouldn’t suffice. Instead of something remotely intelligent leaving his mouth, the bubbling gurgles of a “why did you do that?” spewed from Bilbo’s mouth as he tried to hack up water that had rudely infiltrated his lungs.

“Why did I do that?” Thorin wheezed, sitting back and shaking a bit like a dog might after playing around in puddles. “Why did you do that?” It was obvious by Bilbo’s flailing that the hobbit had no idea how to swim, which had made him sink that much faster. So the question remained. What had possessed Bilbo to wade deeper into the river and drop to his knees of all things? It was foolish, just as it was careless, and Thorin hadn’t been prepared to just…drop into the water to spare Bilbo the misery that was drowning. But he’d done it. He had to.

“I thought I saw something.”

“And risked your life–” Thorin winced, and his hand instantly went to his shoulder. There was a tear in the fabric that ran deep, and as he pulled his hand away, there was the light staining of red against his palm. 

This made Bilbo pop up a lot faster than he should have, and instantly the world spun in protest. “You’re hurt,” he observed, moving his way around Thorin who sat on the ground looking pouty and uncomfortable. “Let me see.” The tear through Thorin’s coat was enough to tell Bilbo all he needed to know. Sometime in that rescue mission of Thorin’s, he must have caught his shoulder against some sharper rocks or branches that held little mercy regardless of one’s good intentions. As if Bilbo hadn’t felt guilty enough…

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Thorin insisted sternly, easing away from Bilbo’s touch to negate any further pain, but the hobbit wasn’t having any of that as he firmly tugged Thorin back into place.

“I most certainly will worry about this. You got this because of me, and now I’m taking care of it, regardless of your stubborn pride. Now hang on.”

Bilbo was shuffling from his spot where he’d been examining the tear in Thorin’s coat, and ultimately his shoulder, and was moving for a hilariously large bag that he had brought with them when leaving Bag End. “A good hobbit always prepares for any adventure, no matter how big or small,” he pointed out proudly while digging through the various items he thought necessary for today’s excursion.

Trotting to the water to carefully dampen a cloth and then work his way back to a dumbfounded dwarf, Bilbo made a wild gesture with his hand towards Thorin’s…everything. “Off with that coat.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t tend to your wounds with that on, now off with it.” The tone was bossy as if one were dealing with a gaggle of ill-behaved fauntlings, and much to Bilbo’s delight, Thorin complied. He was a bit grumbly about it, but the dwarf was moving and shedding his thick layer of leather and furs, only for a pesky tunic to be in the way. “And that too. We’ll need to take care of this properly back home with medicine and what not–”

“I thought good hobbits were prepared?” Thorin snorted in mild annoyance, but also amusement.

The sigh that left Bilbo’s left could have contended with the wind with how heavy it was. At least Thorin was trying to crack a joke in the face of his obvious discomfort. Or that’s what Bilbo chose to believe anyway. “Anyway…” Hazel eyes rolled, but came to a grinding halt as Thorin was struggling to get his tunic over his head with how poorly his shoulder felt, spurring Bilbo into action yet again. With the tunic removed and Thorin pulling his hair out of the way, the two fell into silence.

The sight that Bilbo was met with was enough to cause him to pause, and not because there were a few intricate designs decorating Thorin’s back and nape, but from the damage his foolishness had caused his dwarven guest.

A few moments ticked by, and as Thorin remained seated on the ground with Bilbo staring at his back, it was as if the dwarf could feel that gaze burning into his skin more than any scar ever could. “Is there a problem?”

Bilbo’s ears wilted, as he tentatively rubbed his fingertips at the reddened skin around that scar, careful not to touch the actual wound itself. His cheeks burned with a fierce blush, and now that he was staring at the injury, how was he supposed to tell Thorin the truth? How was he supposed to tell the dwarf that what had nearly ended him was on his behalf? Something in his chest had practically possessed him to act, and yet there was no solid explanation as to why. “I did it for you,” Bilbo mumbled, hoping desperately that Thorin’s ears were too water-logged to hear him, or pay him much mind.

“I beg your pardon?” Thorin had started to turn, peering over his shoulder at Bilbo’s reddened face and look of dismay with uncertainty of his own.

“You asked why I had so stupidly ended up dunked in the water, and now I’m telling you! I did it for you.” By this point Bilbo was pressing that damp cloth to Thorin’s shoulder to occupy his hands, as well as stunt the bleeding as the dwarf seemed a tad tense beneath Bilbo’s touch.

“For me?”

“Yes! Because ever since you and Frerin arrived to Bag End, you’ve been this pitiful and miserable thing, wallowing on and on about heartstones and heartcrafts and not having a purpose, well guess what, you’re not the only one!” Bilbo griped, his eyes blazing and a courage in his chest that felt like it was being blown away just by the look of shock that Thorin sported. “I know what it’s like to feel miserable. To be unwanted and not find that which you seek most, and I thought for a second that maybe if I found the stone you were looking for…”

Maybe it would help both of them. Thorin’s heart could be full of hope in knowing that he did belong somewhere, and Bilbo could take the warmth in his own heart to know that he’d helped someone claw their way out of such self-depreciation by finding a simple soul-calling rock.

Silence fell between the two of them once more as Bilbo tended to the scar that lined part of Thorin’s shoulder. It was unlike both of them to be without words, and for a time Bilbo had assumed his outburst had simply scared the dwarf into his silence.

“I don’t mean to pry, or to assume you feel the same as I do, but this feeling of judgment that everyone passes my way for not finding my heartbloom…I wouldn’t wish it on anyone,” Bilbo quietly explained as he dabbed that cloth before pulling it away to place some bandages against Thorin’s skin. “Make no mistake, I am content on my own, but a part of me wonders if there’s anyone out there for me. Someone who makes me feel…” and as Bilbo continued to press his hands to Thorin’s skin, a bubbling warmth began to bloom in his chest, just like it had when first meeting the dwarf, though it wasn’t a small tingle of a feeling.

It bloomed like a vast field of wildflowers, and that feeling cut him off abruptly.

His head felt like it was in a fog, still drowning beneath the water’s surface as that feeling in his chest intensified. It was alarming, but warm and comforting, and Bilbo wasn’t sure how to explain it. He mentally had to curse the world at this cruel trick that was plaguing him. Was it a joke that he was suddenly feeling so warm and cozy in his heart now of all times with a dwarf seeking his own soulmate of all creatures? Or was it merely a trick of the mind?

“Thank you, Bilbo.”

It was Thorin’s low voice that pulled the hobbit from his delight, as well as his agony and urged him to finish up. “It’s my pleasure, Thorin. I just want to see you happy.” Was this what dwarves felt when they found their heartstone? Bilbo had to wonder, but part of him didn’t want to know.

“I assure you, Bilbo, I am happy.”

And oh how those words and that warm tone moved Bilbo more than they should, but it was best to focus on finishing patching up Thorin before Frerin and the rest of the dwarven gang came looking. 

[i-did-not-mean-to]

I am so intrigued by your May Writing Challenge, and I LOVE your fics! Could you do a Fili x Reader modern AU with

9 - Scene: Commuter (Fili)

4 - Occupation: Street Performer (Reader)

4 - Dialogue Prompt: "Because this is where I live." (Either . . . Or BOTH!)

💖💖💖💖💖🤩

Dearest saucyminxbrainspill (I still can't tag you for some reason),

thank you so much for reading and finding such kind words for my writing. It was my pleasure and honour to write this little thing for you ❤️

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: None

Boredom drove you half insane and, as your hobby was rather a noisy one, you decided that you might as well practice in the street.

At this hour, people simply rushed to work anyway, and nobody would really heed you while you’d strum a few notes on your guitar, or so you had thought.

Intonating “Without you” by Usher and David Guetta, you watched the bodies pass you by – unwilling or unable to lend you their ear for a single second – with a sense of forlorn solitude, until he walked past.

You had seen him before; he usually took the same subway as you, but he got in at the next station.

A single glimpse of the coffee cup he was holding explained the surprising coincidence though; every time you had met him before, he had been drinking a tall coffee from a local shop that lay two blocks into the opposite direction, but – as you had heard through the grapevine – they were closed for remodelling and the chain-brand beverage in his massive paw told you that he was not about to forego his matutinal pick-me-up.

Without thinking about it, you switched to Beyoncé’s “Halo” for he was a radiating apparition on this grey morning indeed; the strikingly blonde mane impatiently tugged up into an approximation of something midway between a ponytail and a bun, the handsome subway-stranger dug his chin – covered with golden hairs – deeper into his heavy coat.

As he was about to pass you by though, he stopped dead in his tracks and his azure gaze came to rest on your face with surprised elation; you were dumbfounded by this for you had not expected him to recognise you in the first place.

“Hey,” he greeted you, “not going downtown today?”

“Nope,” you grinned, “I’m off this week. How about you?”

“Unfortunately not!” He made a face, apparently in no hurry to join the milling chaos of public transport.

“So, is this what you do in your free time?” he asked; he did not know what you did for a living, and he might have tried to find out if you only went downtown to play your guitar – which you did carry around most days anyway – in a more fecund and lucrative environment, but his eyes were warm and open.

“Hmmm,” you hummed, curious to see if he would ask you about it outright.

“Cool,” he chuckled, “I have my uncle waiting for me and Kí – that’s my idiot brother – has had a cleaning spell lately…suffice it to say that some very important documents might have fallen prey to his zealous efforts.”

Again, his expressive face shifted into a mien of annoyance before reverting to that almost boyishly charming smile.

“Thorin will be over the moon with happiness,” he went on in a sarcastic tone, himself not sure why he was unloading all his petty troubles on a stranger, “but he cannot resent Kí for too long, so there’s my chance; he wouldn’t be that lenient with me.”

“Is he the baby of the family?” you questioned him; being the oldest yourself, you were intimately familiar with the mix of indulgence and impatience one felt for one’s youngest siblings.

“Thorin? No,” the man replied, “Kíli? Yes. Thorin is my mother’s older brother and Kí is my mother’s youngest son.”

He said those words as if they were entirely self-explanatory, which – strangely enough and at least to your chaotic mind – they absolutely were.

“Oh you poor man,” you jeered, “first your brother loses your papers and then, your favourite coffee shop is closed.”

“How do you know?” he laughed, giving the almost empty cup a demonstrative shake, “This is okay, but it’s a far cry from the real deal.”

You simply shrugged and played a few notes that were vaguely reminiscent of those 80’s sound-effects mystery shows loved to overuse.

“So, you seem to be eerily aware of the fact that I find myself in this very street because I was running late – courtesy of Marie something and my brother – and needed to grab a coffee before heading into the office, now tell me, mysterious street siren, you are here because…?”

His tone drew a question mark into the cold air between you which made you underline the moment of waiting by a game-show jingle before you let him off the hook: “Because this is where I live!”

You were on the verge of pointing out your house – snuck between two others down the road you were sitting on – but then, you thought better of it; no matter how cute he was, it was reckless and outright dumb to let a strange man know where you lived.

“Makes sense,” the man nodded, “when I get in at my usual station, you’re already there.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine; not only had he noticed you before – which explained why he had recognised you almost instantly – but he had also taken note of your habits and movements.

“Oh damn, that sounded creepy,” he exclaimed, scratching the back of his head in sheepish embarrassment, “I am not stalking you, sorry, don’t worry. It’s just that at that time in the morning, there aren’t a lot of people yet and I’ve noticed you.”

Stepping back a bit, he dared a cheeky smile: “To be frank – and not to be even spookier – I think of you as a highlight of my daily commutes, and I’d like to imagine that we are co-travellers in the not very epic but unfortunately necessary odysseys of this city’s public transport.”

“Not today,” you smirked, “not today.”

“Shame, I’ll miss you…If you are not too busy, maybe you’d like to meet in the park later?”

“Why?” you asked suspiciously.

“Because that’s where I live,” he replied with a wink before his face went blank with shock, “not in the park per se, next to it. I also just caught on to the fact that inviting strangers into parks in the afternoon only solidifies my first impression as a creep, but I only have that one meeting and then we’re having a barbecue in the park. It’s completely innocent, I swear!” “Who is we?” you grinned, wondering if his vivid imagination would cook up threats of gangbang assault hidden in his words.

If you were completely honest, you had of course noticed him as well and you knew for a fact that he was sober, clean, diligent, and kind; he never snubbed the actual street artists and he certainly never disrespected staff or helpers either.

There was so much you could learn about a person by actually watching them and listening to them live without being distracted by your own paranoia of how they might perceive you and the irrational fear of having to say something smart; his own faltering in that regard only made him more likeable to you somehow, for you were under the potentially erroneous impression to know everything worthwhile about this man already.

None of those elements was his name though, and you didn’t even care; he was afraid to be too forward or downright unsettling to you which told you that it was enthusiasm and naïve faith rather than sinister plans that motivated his cheerful words.

All in all, you had a good gut feeling about this man who had just lost another 15 minutes of his precious time by trying not to leave you scared or distressed in any way.

“I’ll see about it,” you chirped, got off the ground and dusted yourself off before winking at him, “Until next time…”

When you turned around at the corner of the street, he was still standing there – frowning and mouthing to himself – before breaking into a surprisingly athletic run in his nice leather shoes to the nearest subway station.

Sighing, you actually considered taking your battered old guitar and your sorry ass to the prettiest park in the city; you had not agreed on a time or any specific spot, but where there’s smoke there’s fire, and you had a habit of finding one another anyway.

So, here we are...I hope you liked this, if so, I would be ever so grateful for a sign :D

Lots of love from me <3 (and sorry for the delay)

@fellowshipofthefics Here's another one :D

[wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse]

Clear Waters (Fili x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2069

A/N ok so I do not like this one as much and also it is veryyy long for me so that's also why. For this one, it is kind of open-ended and I still have not decided who it's for lol, It could be Thorin, Fili, Kili, or Bilbo. Who knows, even Dwalin or bombur. I lovvve being indecisive. so have a surprise and let me know if you have any requests. Enjoy xx

The water swept over me, my muscles taut with strain, but I felt freer than ever. The water was icy, but it soothed me. Muscle memory taught me to savor the moment from when I jumped in the water to when I clambered back on the boat. A few stray waves hit me, rolling me over a bit. I let them roll me, facing upwards towards the sky. I sighed. Bard would be back soon, and he would want me to help him with whatever he had today. Of course, I was more than willing to help. After all, he is the one that brings me out in these waters and lets me have time to myself. I began to swim to our meeting place, one that we both had memorized. I let my body relax, the tendrils of kelp trying to keep me from going back. I willed myself forward, but to what? More scoffing at my ideas, more remarking on how I am not married yet. But I had to.

The waves began to swell, and I smiled. Bard was here to pick me up. Of course, he did the old trick of pretending to almost run me over. I laughed at his antics, he rarely was ever humorous anymore. I hoisted myself up the side of the boat, sopping wet when I realized that he had company. I looked at Bard, who shrugged.

"Lass, you could have drowned! What are ye doing?" A crowd of what looked like 14 dwarves stood before me. They were all staring incredulously, obviously, they did not expect someone to be swimming in these waters.

"I'm just going for my daily swim of course. Did you actually think Bard was going to hit me? You have so little faith in your ferry it seems." I  wrung out my hair over the side of the boat. My explanation did not seem to suit them, but they dropped the subject fairly quickly.

"Now might I ask, who are you?" a voice said quietly. I looked up and faced a dwarf, no, a hobbit who looked very out of place.

"I am y/n, from Laketown. And who are you? It looks like you are a halfling unless my eyes deceive me," I responded.

He fidgeted a bit. He was obviously very uncomfortable. "Yes yes, that's me. Bilbo Baggins." He scooted back to the other side of the boat. An odd character he seems, out of place. Why was he here? I turned back around, tired from all the swimming. I met the eyes of some of the other dwarves. Two of them had a very mischievous look in them. Some were more somber. But one of them caught my eyes. He looked like he was the leader of all of them, even if he did not say anything. He had that air of authority to his figure. I caught his eye, trying to figure out what these dwarves were doing here, but his face did not give anything I way. I leaned my head back against the boat. Breath in, breath out. Slowly my eyes closed, letting slumber take over my willing body.

--------time change hehe--------

Bard shook me awake, motioning to the barrels that were now filled with fish. How long was I asleep for? I shook the last tendrils of sleep off me, and clumsily grabbed one of the barrels. I poured it onto the deck where Bard was pouring one, and a redheaded dwarf rolled out unceremoniously. I gave Bard a questioning look, but he motioned to stay quiet. Well, a time for everything I suppose.

Once we had poured out all the fish, dwarves included, I was free to go. But, after all, I am a nosy person, so I decided to go with Bard. For some reason we had to sneak the dwarves into his house, were they fugitives of some sort? Well, no matter who they were, they were picky, with everything. The weapons Bard offered were "not good enough". Everything seemed to pass by in a blurry haze. Clearly, I needed more sleep. I noticed one of the dwarves seemed to be in pain, clearly trying to hide it. I ventured a bit closer, but Bard called for me to help him with something.

The night approached quickly, and these dwarves were very somber. I walked up to one of them, the oldest one. "Might I ask what is going on here? Everything that I have ever heard about dwarves is that they are jovial, and I have rarely ever seen anyone this quiet," I spoke quietly, not wanting to draw attention to my confusion.

"Well lass, we are not here to stay, and we are a bit behind schedule. Everyone is just a bit tense, as this is very important for everyone," the dwarf said vaguely. "You're y/n aren't ye."

"Yes, that's me. And who are you?"

"Balin son of Fundin. It is a pleasure to meet you. Now I see you are a bit fiercer than the rest and I would like to know if there is an armory here where we can get weapons from. If you do not wish to help, that is fine. However, I can tell you want adventure. Make up your mind soon." He walked away to get some food, leaving me with my mouth wide open. How could he know? How does he know that I hate this place, that I want to leave on journeys? I would drill him about that later, but for now, I must help them.

I murmured some of the plans to Bilbo, who told Balin. Everyone else came to know, and the minute Bard would leave we would be off. Bard would not be happy with me, but I don't care. It's about high time I had something to do other than sitting around or swimming. I needed an escape. As we were all eating, talking amongst ourselves, I noticed Bard hurriedly whisper something to his son and slip out the door, unnoticed by everyone.

I yawned, "Well I think I will be heading off to bed. It was lovely meeting you all." I met all of their eyes, lingering on some for longer. I still noticed the younger dwarf hiding his pain, but I could do nothing at the moment. I left the house and down the stairs, waiting. After about five minutes I heard grumbling from the rest of the dwarves. I motioned for them to stay quiet and quickly led the way. I showed them the window that they could enter once we reached the armory.

"This is the only way in without alerting guards. Be quiet. If anyone of you makes a noise, it is over. I will leave once you get in unless there is anything else I can help you with," I said hopefully. I still wished to leave this dreadful town.

Thorin, the dwarf in charge, muttered some orders to the rest of them and then turned wearily back to me. "We are in your debt. Thank you for helping us," he said grudgingly, in a deep gravelly voice.

I nodded my head and left them, turning around a corner. I stopped though, for I heard them saying something.

"She would have been of use to us. Clearly, she knows a way out of here and we don't." I heard one of the dwarves arguing. I could not tell which one.

"No, she would only hinder us. She is soft, she has never left this village, she would only be a burden." I heard Thorin say gruffly. He wasn't necessarily wrong, but they underestimated me. I could handle a sword, and I would not hesitate in killing orcs. But if I showed myself, they would all not trust me. So I stayed hidden.

"Uncle you don't know that. Besides, think of what use a human might be. They perceive things in different ways sometimes. There's something about her. She would help us, I know she would." The other dwarf spoke.

Hmmm, which ones were his nephews. I thought the injured one was his only relative, but clearly, I was wrong. The injured one's voice was not as resonant as the one that was speaking. I accidentally shuffled a bit, and their voices grew quieter. I could no longer hear them, but it was nice to know that someone wanted me there. All of a sudden there was a huge crashing of metal and a couple of thumps. I fled the scene, knowing that I could not get caught with them. Everyone already was wary of me, I would hate to make things worse for myself.

I heard the shouting of guards as I ran, far enough away that I knew I wouldn't be caught. The town center, that was where they would be brought. I took some shortcuts, so hopefully, I could see them alright. Everything passed by in my anxiety-induced haze. If they mentioned me at all, I was well, screwed. I vaguely heard Thorin shout something, and everyone cheering, but I was mostly looking at the dwarves' faces and made sure they were alright.

Balin looked a bit concerned, and the youngest one was still trying to hide his pain, but everyone else looked joyous. I smiled looking at them. It was the first time I had seen them in a good mood. One of them looked right at me, he was blonde, and he looked younger. I think he might have been the one talking about me. I waved and he dipped his head in acknowledgment.

Everyone was busy celebrating that they were going to the lonely mountain, but I mostly wanted to check on the hurt dwarf. Kili I think his name is. But before I could reach them, the crowd pressed in. Drinks were brought out and I could barely move without bumping into someone. It got harder to breathe. I began taking quicker breathes, trying to push my way out of the pandemonium. My ears were ringing because it was so loud. Finally, I managed to get out, and I sat against one of the stalls, leaning my head back against it. Footsteps approached me, slowly, and I turned my head.

"They are going to bring doom to us all," Bard said hoarsely. "But all anyone wants is gold. Greedy things we are. It makes me almost sick to watch this. Do you want me to walk you back to your house or are you fine on your own?"

"I think I'll be alright for tonight Bard, thank you though. Goodnight." I replied back.

I closed my eyes for a second, listening to the laughter, beer slopping down the sides of mugs, something I have not heard in a long time. It is odd to miss things like this, especially when you don't realize you miss them. Some more footsteps approached me, but quicker, with a skip to them.

"My Lady," the dwarf said, bowing his head.

I smiled in return. "I am certainly no lady. And remind me, which one are you?"

"Ah, but you look like a lady to me. I am Fili, nephew of Thorin. Why are you sitting down when there are festivities to be had?"

"A gentleman does not ask a lady such questions." I retorted.

He gave a sly chuckle, "I thought you aren't a lady."

I laughed, not expecting this from him. But it was funny nonetheless. "Well, you have me there. Now tell me everything about this quest. I am keen to be on one myself and I would love to hear it all."

So Fili told me everything. Where he was born, why he wanted to go, everything. Obviously, some of the ale he drank was at work, seeming to make him more flamboyant than he usually might be. But it was amusing and laughter ensued.

When the music died down and people began to head home, Fili wrapped up his exaggerated tale.

"It was lovely to meet you Fili. I wish you the best of luck on your quest." I said softly. "Please try not to wake the dragon."

He chucked. "It was lovely to meet you as well y/n."

I waved him farewell and walked back to my house. It was always good to meet new people, especially these dwarves. They seemed like they could be so happy if they tried. Well, it is time to settle in for the night.

[lathalea]

The Hobbit: DOS: The Appendices, Part 10 (3/4)

It’s Friday so it’s time for our watch party again!

The Hobbit group (aka the Dwarf Lovers aka The Cult of Saint Bofur) is back with The Hobbit Behind the Scenes rewatch!

Tolkien was fascinated by dragons and the old dragon tales. Tolkien was a fanfic writer - discuss. He started the Smaug smut fanfic tropes tolkien was canonically a furry Tolkien would play Dragon Age tolkien would also play Skyrim

Some early Smaug designs were weird...

“What do u want? I’m on my smoke break”

“am a sneaky boi”

Not sure why, but we also discussed PJ’s minimalistic style PJ has only three shirts And two cardigans One mug And no hair brush Marie Kondo would have been proud of him

Fake Smaug = a dragon-shaped kite in the beginning of AUJ he attacked Dale and Erebor because he was offended by that kite the gold was an excuse to make him look more badass and so other dragons wouldn't make fun of him He's that guy who is like 'Y'all made fun of me. Well, guess who's rich now!' on homecoming party

Benedict Cumberbatch is acting the hell out of Smaug. That’s how Sherlock looks like when he takes the heroin.

Some Smaug designs were based on bats and... well, chickens. Smaug being a giant chicken, hmmm chickens: are we a joke to you? Well birds are descended from dinosaurs xD Like, imagine that. Bilbo expects something scary. And then there's a chicken. And he looks at Thorin like THIS IS YOUR NEMEZIS?!

John Howe used his hands to model Smaug’s “hand” gestures So Smaug could do finger guns!

but how does smaug know thorin? Dragon gossip "Did you hear about Oakenshield? Let me tell you about Thorin Oakenshield. He stabbed me in the chest once. It was awesome." "He does the shampoo commercials. In Shire" "Thats why his hair is so big its full of secrets" "And Thranduil is in his Burn Book"

OH MAHAL Thorin appears on screen! 0.5 seconds of Thorin, I'm happy now. I SAW THORIN *faints*

The sound specialist's 7-yo daughter is the person who gave Smaug his roar Smaug confirmed as female It’s official canon now Imagine writing "Smaug dubbing" in your CV

Horny crocodile sounds = Smaug sounds no wonder he was so mad That's why he's so grumpy. He just needs to get laid The whole villain origin story all the gold was to impress females Go on Bilbo. Take one for the team

Time for a ship hell: Smaug x Bilbo or Smaug x Thorin?  who was he horny for? That's smaug x bard erasure! ship name: Smard

Time for some Beorn makeup. Beorn's beard is basically Dwalin's beard so that's what happpened to Dwalins head hair!

dream jobs: dwarf waterer and beorn scrubber Lemme get that for you Mr O’Gorman Pls pls lemme wipe that up Mr Armitage Your muscles look really sore Mr Turner... Do you mind? Nono no need Mr Turner I can clean that up right away 🧽

Laketown. What is the first thing we notice?

THORIN!!! His hair. wet!Thorin! I love how the majority of this server are Thorin stans <3

Just look at Bilbo’s face. The grossest ship in the whole trilogy: Laketown Master x Alfrid (ew) Pheew! There no fics on AO3 with this pairing!

Bard's clothes were supposed to be inspired by the eastern/ Tibetan clothing Bard - Aragorn made in China

Sigrid and Tilda are played by James Nesbitt's daughters. Behold, Saint Bofur cuteness!!!

Sweet dwarf dreams everyone! And remember, no yucky Mirkwood spiders! --- Missed The Appendices part 7, 8 & 9? Here they are: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 Want to see how silly we were when watching The Hobbit? See here.

Thank you everyone for tonight, that was fun :D

@estethell @cassiabaggins @guardianofrivendell @misfit-with-a-pen @oreo-cookies-fan @theresonlyzuul @bigsmallworld @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @mountains-under-the-moon-deacti​ @jentaculargums​ @avaria-revallier​

[joyfullynervouscreator]

Hey, so sorry you have a cold! Get better soon and Happy New Year!

My choice of a title is Tame. Don't ask why, just because. :)

Hmmm, I had actually forgotten this prompt list xD

So, I think there would be two choices for this - actually three:

Celegorm/Oromë OR Celegorm/Aredhel - Either the Celegorm gains Huan story, or something about C&A meeting just after the Ice and the reaction to seeing each other and knowing what has occurred for each of them in the time they spent apart, trying to reconcile who they have become and who they were and work out who they might yet become.

Otherwise, I'd possibly go for a family feels Éomer & Éowyn (or their children) tale of taming a wild horse as a right of passage in the style of Eorl, weaving in strands of that legend as passed down through generations to tie back to the tale of Eorl I wrote and expanded for @naryaflame...

For something wildly wildly AU, there's the good old The Arkenstone Is A Dragon Egg, Now What, Thorin? option, too ;)

[elvish-sky]

first of all- congrats on 450 followers!!!! i’ve really enjoyed interacting with you lately and reading your incredible fics!! ur such a lovely person, and you really inspire me to write!! 💌

🧡 i would love to hear you rant about something related to the hobbit that you’re passionate about! unpopular opinions, underrated characters, anything!! i would also like to know your favorite character! :D

Ahhhh thank you so so much! I’ve loved interacting with you as well- your comments on my fics are just heartwarming, and your blog is delightful!! ❤️❤️

🧡- oooh ok. My favorite character from the hobbit is currently Fili. I switch around a lot, but I’ve really just been liking his character a lot lately and I adore writing for him cause he’s just the best (and the looks don’t hurt either).

And a rant. Hmmm. I guess my biggest issue is the whole love triangle, which I think a bunch of people don’t like. I just wish they’d kept Tauriel but not made her a love interest. Also I adore Bagginshield and they deserve all the happiness in the world and the ending of BOtFA with that scene just makes me so sad cause they were perfect for each other!!

I’ve also really been enjoying “bilbo and Thorin adopt frodo and live in Erebor together” fics. It’s just the cutest and WHY COULDN’T IT HAVE BEEN CANON?!,!,!! AGHFHFHHHHHDHDH.

A very underrated character was Dain, I would have liked to see more of him.

Also Bard and Thranduil should have gotten a bit more screen time (yea I ship Barduil). Thranduil just deserves love and happiness.

And one more thought is that I CANNOT BELIVE THEY SCREWED WITH THE TIMELINE SO BAD SENDING LEGOLAS TO ARAGORN IN THE HOBBIT!!! Like Aragorn would have been 10, 11?

That was a nice little rant, I’m done now 🤗

[ruthoakenshield]

Thorin’s Anniversary Gift

You wake to gentle kisses on your neck and the sound of little pitter pattering feet and the giggles of your twin three year old daughters entering your room.

You groan and keep your eyes closed pretending to be asleep. Thorin chuckles, and you hear him grunt in pain as your daughter most likely got him near the groin...again, as she climbed up onto your bed and started trying to wake the two of you up.

“Mamad, hungweeee!” she said as she bounced on the bed next to you. “Yeah, Mamad, Bweakfas!!!!!” your other daughter squealed as you both heard her tummy growl.

Thorin chuckled and told them to go in the sitting room and play. That breakfast will be served soon.

You felt the bed bounce as your daughters vaulted themselves to the floor and ran out of the room.

Thorin pulled the pillow off your face that you were hiding under and kissed your cheek. “You ok, Love?” he asked as he caressed your side. His expression on his face showing concern.

“Don’t feel well.” you mumbled. “Just need to sleep. Can Dis or your nephews watch the girls today so I can sleep?” you ask. He frowns and feels your forehead. It feels fine. He looks at your sleep tousled head and chuckles and peppers your back and shoulder with more kisses. “I will take the girls to get breakfast and then bring them to Dis’.” he tells you as you roll over to face him.

He grins when he sees your exposed breast and leans down to give it some attention. He caresses it with his tongue, drawing moans from you and you reach up and entwine your fingers in his dark mane that is streaked with more silver strands, giving it a gentle tug. He give you a low growl, sending shivers through your body when he starts sucking your nipple, creating a pull deep inside you. After a few minutes of this he sits up and caresses your face when he hears the girls squeal, “Auntie!!!!”

“Shall I have Oin come check on you later this morning?” he asks. You nod. “Okay, Love. I will stop by the Healing Halls and ask him to do so. I will come and check on you when my meetings are finished.” he tells you and kisses your cheek. Then he gets up and goes to get your daughters ready for breakfast and spending the day with their Auntie and Cousins.

You roll over, cover yourself back up and go back to sleep.

Later in the morning you wake to the sound of a gentle knocking on your bedroom door. “Who is it?” you ask sleepily.

“It is Oin, my Queen. Thorin said you were not feeling well and asked me to check on you.” he replied.

“Come in Oin.” you tell him as you roll onto your back and cover your chest.

He enters and walks over to your side of the enormous bed. He sets his bag on the foot end of the bed and comes over to feel your forehead. “What seems to be troubling you, My Lady? You have no fever.” he asks.

You tell him you have not been sleeping well, have been rather moody, and just feel exhausted. He hums for a moment. “Well I know you have said your monthly cycles are irregular, so we can’t use that to say for sure whether or not it may be a pregnancy. Since you have no fever, i doubt it is an illness. Let me check you just to make sure you are not pregnant and then we will go from there. Hmmm?” he suggests.

You sigh and nod. He gives you an examination and when he is finished he is smiling. “Well, my Queen, it looks like you are indeed expecting another little pebble to add to your brood! Congratulations!” he says happily.

You look at him in disbelief. “What? How can I be pregnant when it’s only been three years since the girls were born? You ask surprised.

Oin chuckles. “Though it is rare, it is not unheard of for a fertile dwarrowdam to become pregnant so soon after giving birth, my dear. You are just one of those dwarrowdams who seem to easily become pregnant, which I’m sure will make Thorin very happy as he has always wanted a sizeable brood of little ones.” he chuckles.

“Don’t worry, my dear. I will make sure you and the babe stay healthy.” he assures you. “Now just enjoy the day free of your little pebbles and get some rest. Thorin said he will come see you after his meetings finish this afternoon. I will send Bombur with lunch for you after a while.” he tells you as you snuggle back down into the warm comforter. “Oin, do not say anything to anyone about this. I want to surprise Thorin with it.” you tell him. “As my Queen wishes.” he says with a bow and a wink.

“Thank You Oin.” you tell him. He smiles and pats your shoulder. “Happy anniversary, my Queen!” he tells you with a grin, then he grabs his bag and takes his leave, closing the door behind him.

You fall back asleep and wake when Bombur knocks and brings you lunch. You eat and then go back to sleep.

Later that afternoon, Thorin enters the bedchamber and finds you on your side cuddling a body pillow. Your arms and legs wrapped around it. The silk sheets thrown off and your body exposed to him. He grins and begins to strip off his clothes quietly.

He comes over to his night stand and grabs the bottle of strawberry flavored lube out and squirts a little into his hand after he crawls up into the bed. He coats his hard member and then snuggles against your back, gently slipping himself into your warm entrance. You moan quietly but don’t wake. He realizes you are in a very deep sleep and he grins.

As he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, he reaches around your chest to find your breast with the hand he had put the lube on. He begins to use the remaining lube to massage your breasts and you let out another groan of pleasure and roll over onto his chest, still asleep as he nuzzles your peppermint scented hair and kisses your neck.

He smirks and continues his ministrations. Nibbling your shoulder and neck, giving you gentle kisses and love nips, massaging your breasts, sucking on them and your now strawberry flavored nipples. He reaches down between your legs and gently rubs your pearl as he continues to slowly move in and out of you with his hard member, enjoying the feeling of you surrounding him with your warmth and wetness.

He is in no hurry to come, he just wants to enjoy this time alone with you, giving you pleasures and wake you with this intimacy and the love he has for you.

You gradually waken in his arms as you lean on his chest. Your husbands ministrations rousing you from deep slumber and you open your eyes and give him a sleepy grin. “Hello, my Ghivashel.” he whispers in your ear and then kisses your cheek. “Did Oin come to see you?” he asks quietly.

“Mmmhmm.” you mumble sleepily and moan as he plays with your clit.

He grins. “And what did Oin say. Why do you not feel well?” he asks in a low sensuous voice.

“He said i am fine and that I just needed some extra rest.” you mumble, struggling to form a coherent thoughts while Thorin worships your body with his ministrations.

“Then may I join you while you rest?” he asks as he reaches back up and caresses your lips with his fingers. You open your mouth and suck on his fingers, tasting yourself and the strawberry lube. “mmmmmmm” you moan and he thrusts become a little more demanding.

He grins and worships your back and sides of your body for a while longer. Tracing the battle scars on your back with his tongue and lips, and caressing your sides as well as your stretch marks on your hips and rear with his hands.

After a while, he pulls out and moves you onto your back. He lays down on top of you again and begins to worship the front half of you as he ever so slowly enters your warm cave.

He watches with delight as you moan and writhe under his ministrations and your eyes roll back in your head and you arch up to him as he ever so slowly enters and exits your cave repeatedly.

“Ooooohhh Thorinnnnn!” you moan out in extacy. He gives you a devilish grin and begins to pick up the pace as he nips at your chest and nipples. You groan again and he continues to worship your body.

He feels your body tightening and he feels the tightening in his groin. He wraps his arms around you tightly and his thrusts become more erratic and feverish. Finally he feels you orgasm and your muscles clamp down on him, pulling him over the edge and into his own orgasm and you both cry out each other’s names as you come hard, panting and gasping for air.

He collapses onto your chest and you both are panting and chests are heaving. Once he comes down from the post orgasmic high, he tells you “Happy Anniversary, my Love.” and he kisses your chest as he rests his head there over your heart.

You sigh contentedly, knowing your secret will please him.

“I have a present for you too, My Love.” you say happily. He looks up at your face and then looks around. “Where is it, Ghivashel?” he asks.

“You are laying on top of it.” you giggle. “Oin informed me this afternoon that i have not been feeling well because we are to have more pebbles in our brood.” you inform him grinning.

He pushes himself up for a moment, looking at you not comprehending what you told him. You laugh and he moves off of you to lay at your side with a confused look on his face.

You take his large, warm hand and place it on your lower belly and pat it. He looks down at it and you see the light bulb finally go on. He looks back up at you in disbelief, then you see it flit to amazement and joy. “More pebbles?” he asks wide-eyed. You grin and nod.

His huge sapphire eyes get glassy as he looks from your face to your belly and back to your face. He leans down and nuzzles your neck and holds you close. “Thank you, Ghivashel” he tells you as he peppers your face, neck and chest with more kisses. “I couldn’t ask for a better gift.” he tells you with glassy sapphire eyes that now sparkle with joy.

“Happy Anniversary, My King.” you tell him as he begins to make slow, passionate love to you for the rest of the evening in celebration of the news of having more dwarflings with you.

@fizzyxcustard​ @rachel1959 @quenofmankind @thorinthehottotty​ @dumbassunderthemountain​ @deepestfirefun​

[slashtakemylife]

Sheith was NEVER meant to be canon

First of all, I will NEVER EVER discourage a ship, I welcome all ships, heck send me right now a message about sheith HC and I'll encourage you and even HC with you as well

But please, Sheith was NEVER in any point supposed to be canon and yes I've seen and read a LOT of theories and let me tell you, you all need to watch all of captain america's movies but that comes later, first here's some arguments

Brotherhood: Yes I know you get this argument a LOT but the Brotherhood (TM) story line is extremely common

The Hobbit (Bilbo and Thorin) Sherlock, both movies and BBC (Sherlock and Watson) Merlin (Merlin and Arthur) and my main base Captain America (Steve and Bucky) I'm sorry I can't bring you child shows because none come to mind right now

All this shows and even more, show a bond between males that go beyond friendship, become brothers, even stronger than blood but also these guys are actually the most popular ship in their franchise and it's no surprise why, even Queerbaiting comes from here because they KNOW people are invested in them and deliberately make scenes that encourage people DESPITE knowing they will never follow through, so you are not new, the first or even the last

The Beard

So it comes a point were this male/male relationships are so close you begin to think, hmmm, I wonder if there's more? Could it be romantic?! And at this exact moment content makers pull out their trap card, The Love Interest!

Nothing a seldom developed female character can't fix, right? They can add a female character and push her solely for romance (since they don't actually know what to do with a female character, wtf do vaginas even do?) with a few character development moments and also to show like, No they are not gay, look at this happy HETERO couple!

Now is the moment were I confess I am a rabbid Adashi shipper, YES I will protect my son Adam from ANYONE and right now I'm gonna tell you the real deal, the absolute tea of my boy Adam!

Adam is a freaking Beard

So yeah, when S6 ended, it also came to a point were they realized things had gone way to gay and considering how they had hyped LGTB, they knew now was the time to deliver and put an end to a romantic Sheith with the respective Beard (Acxa I think was considered to be Keith's beard but maybe they cast it out later on?) but wait! Ohhh f*ck, we forgot Shiro was gay, uh oh, that means Shiro's beard is a guy, yeah, remember that boy Adam back from when we were doing S2?

In case you don't remember, here's some history, Shiro was supposed to die back in S2 so that Keith could rise into the BP, in an interview, JDS and LM said that S7's Adam flashback was supposed to happen in S2, so those scenes were prepared beforehand, they were actually going to show a gay Shiro and then he was going to die but since they didn't want to do the BYG trope, *cough* bullshit *cough* toy sales and Shiro being Very popular *cough*, they let Shiro live, be the BP and also help make a storyline were Keith goes with the blades instead of immediately into BP and also create this amazing brotherhood that would guide both their characters (the only reason S6 gets a pass is mostly that emotional, visually beautiful fight between Shiro and Keith)

But then as I said, it reached the point were it was way to gay and the beard was needed but unfortunately, the beard was gay and honestly they didn't want to spend too much time on the gay, luckily all they need is a beard, nothing more so here VLD tried to be sneaky with these easy steps:

Put Shiro's gay beard

Get brownie point for the rep they promised

Kill Sheith in the process

Also kill Klance since it's stablished Shiro is he only rep

Kill the beard as well since we don't actually want to put a whole gay storyline, we only need to stablish Shiro as gay

Success!

This is very VERY clear in how they justified Adam's death by saying it was tragedy, war and loss, specially when they mentioned that Shiro is the rep, no one EVER made an intention to give Shiro a full GAY romance in ANY way or with any character, but their plan went to shit when everyone (rightfully) called out their BS so they needed a quick fix specially with the coming S8 which was probably mostly done

Why didn't they just make Shiro marry Keith? Their relationship was very developed it was a very easy step, in fact! We have clear evidence they cut out big Sheith moments and interactions and deliveratedly added more Curtis in the BG to justify the ending

If they had prepared a Sheith canon finale it would've saved their ASS, all they had to do in S7 was say 'there's more rep to come!' And be done with the controversy and you are right, ot would've been a slow build relationship

I wholeheartedly believe they cut Sheith scenes and added more Curtis, I do, but here's why, S8 was mostly done, they had done their LGTB duty and S7 should have all the rep the fandom needed, things were good, we could forget that pending and move on with the finale, then the fandom exploted (rightfuly mind you

So VLD had to fix this, they knew S8 also had Sheith PLATONIC moments since they thought they were safe, we were supposed to know this was a friendship, not a relationship, that was the point of the beard! But the beard and the rep both failed (you mean an ambiguous scene and later kill the SO doesn't work? *pikachu face*)

They cut Sheith platonic moments, made klance open ended, used the deus ex machina card for Ezor and Zethrid and rush a Shiro wedding

Look I'm an Adashi, my ship IS canon but one is dead and the other married off, if they had added Adam at the wedding it would've also felt awkward, this Shiro friend that we barely saw is now married to him? Only if you know their true relationship would you understand but it would also feel out of the blue (they did broke up) specially since their scene felt final and not a petty dispute or a misunderstanding but a really sad but necessary choice, none were in the wrong

So I understand the canon and the behind the scenes as to why this happened, but that doesn't mean I'll stop shipping them (F*ck VLD, I'm he captain now) I choose to drown in fanfiction but I won't hate or belittle Curtis because he really is a backgroungd character that got roped into this but people like him, so respect him, his relationship with Shiro and their shippers

So back to my Captain America, I chose this pairing because they went through the same, in Cap 1 there was a balance between the friendship between Steve and Bucky and the slow buildup of Steve and Peggy so while you could definitely ship Stucky if you wanted, the clear canon was Steggy, what happens in Cap 2? The Stucky relationship gets more screen time and the developing romance Staron is very little (non-existent) so when we get to Cap 3 were Cap goes against everyone FOR Bucky, well #GetCaptainAmericaABoyfriend was trending, why? Because The Beard, Sharon as a character and Staron as a couple was so underdeveloped that we all felt wierd with that kiss, sure we knew it was going to happen and that there was something there but suddenly in our faces? People felt comfortable with Stucky because it was more developed that the actual canon relationship, if they had actually made an effort to flush out Sharon and her relationship with Cap, I think it wouldn't have feel so akward, it doesn't help that we repeatedly get reminded of Peggy so they never really pay time to poor Sharon (Yes I'm a Stucky but if a female is done right I can accept her because I actually love Steggy as well)

So Sheith went through the same, they coded their relationship a certain way and failed to separate the romance and bromance, it's never fun to be the obligatory love interest to push away that gay sh*t, Lance actually went through thos since S8 has him mostly worry for Allura

So this is a long rant so thanks for reading

[a-thought-in-my-head]

All His Fault

Pairing: Fili x Reader

Summary: You want to burn everything that reminds you Fili. Modern AU

Warnings: Angst (with some fluffy memories in italics), Language (very little), Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts

Word Count: 899                              *Posted 3.7.17

You want to burn every photo you have of him. Because the pain of seeing his happy face tears your heart to shreds. Because all you see is him dying. Over and over again. Seeing his eyes close for the last time. Hearing his jagged breathing as he eventually succumbs to his wounds.

So, you want to erase everything that reminds you of him. Because it just reminds you of how empty you feel. How meaningless everything is now.

But when you raise the lighter to the first photo you grab, your hand shakes so violently you almost set your sleeve on fire. You toss the lighter away and grip your shaking hand in frustration and sorrow. The photo you almost burned floats down to the floor. On it, you’re standing next to Fili, grinning, happy in your fantasy that nothing bad would happen. That you’d be forever happy. You were such a fool.

“Fili! Guess who I am!?” You hold a braided chuck of your hair under your nose.

He laughs, eyes crinkling, “Hmmm, Bilbo?”

“Noooo!” you shake your head, fake moustache bobbing up and down.

He tilts his head, “Then I guess you must be Thorin.”

“Filiiiiii,” you whine. “Come on, I even braided it!”

“Ooooh, so that’s what that lump is supposed to be,” he teases.

“Fili,” you gasp, pretending to be insulted. “I guess someone doesn’t want me to braid their hair for them tomorrow.”

He smiles, kissing your nose, “I will always want you to braid my hair.”

“Then someone better apologise,” you reply, kissing his nose back.

“I apologise,” he stares at you solemnly, but his cheeks twitch in his effort to keep a straight face.

You laugh, “Okay, I accept. Now, guess, guess!” You hold your mini braid back under your nose.

“I think I’m going to need a clue,” he teases.

“Ugh, fineeeee,” you joke. “Who’s my favourite Durin?”

“Your favourite Durin huh?” He murmurs. “I think you’ll have to tell me.”

You drop your hair and wind your arms around his neck. “Kili, of course.”

“Y/N!” he gasps. You giggle and try to run away, only for him to swing you up in his arms. “Kili doesn’t have moustache braids, you liar,” he growls into your neck.

“Really?” you hum. “Then I guess it must be someone else.”

He nips your ear. “It better be.”

“But then… who could it be?” you query, over-exaggerating your confusion.

He gives you a giant kiss, causing your heart to stutter. “It better be me, you little tease.”

You smile widely, “Of course it is.” You buss his cheek, “I don’t know why you’d think it wouldn’t be. Now, say cheese!” You whip out your phone and grin at the sight of him looking at you exasperated, but amused.

You blink, a tear softly dripping down your cheek. You lift the picture to your lips and lightly kiss it. Your nose tingles as your repressed tears start leaking out.

—

After you think you’re done crying, you stand up and walk towards your balcony. The sun’s setting. Just like the day you moved in.

“Okay, I was wrong.”

“Hmm?” you’re staring out at the view from the balcony.

“I was wrong. This is a nice apartment, and it’s good that you’re moving here. I’m sorry I was such a jerk about you not moving in with me. You were totally right that we’d never get any privacy at my apartment.” Fili admits grumpily.

You glance back at him. You sigh. “You’re too perfect, you know.” He stops glowering at his feet and squints at you in confusion. “I really wanted to dance and sing that I’m always right, but you’re just too sweet, it’d make me feel like a total jerk.”

He grins and joins you at the balcony. “Well…,” he lifts up your right hand. “I wouldn’t mind a dance.” He gives you a small bow, kissing the back of the hand he currently was holding. “Would you give me the honour of this dance, my Lady?” he requests in his loftiest, courtliest voice.

Your heart expands at how very happy he makes you. “You may, good sir.” Your voice wobbles a bit, and his brow scrunches in concern, only to smooth when he realises. He brushes his lips across your forehead and holds you just a bit tighter. Because that’s how perfect he was.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you more,” he whispers back teasingly. You kiss and the sun passes beyond the horizon.

Your hands tighten on the handrails. I miss you so much, Fili. You exhale tightly, for somehow your lungs have shrunk. Or maybe your chest has just collapsed under the weight of your grief. You look down. Nope, you’re still physically the same as you were before his death. What a terrible, fucking lie. Because inside… Inside you’re completely ruined. Your heart has shattered into so many little pieces. Pieces that you can imagine are slowly floating through your bloodstream and poisoning you. Killing you. And you kind of hope that you’re not imagining. You kind of hope that you are dying. Because right now… Right now, you’re completely and utterly broken. And death has to be less painful than this.

So, yes, you want to burn everything that reminds you of him.  Because, now that he’s gone, you’re not sure living is worth this pain. And it’s all his fault.

A/N: If you are contemplating suicide, please, please call the suicide prevention lifeline,1-800-273-8255, and/or check these sites (a, b, c, d, ). I don’t know your situation, and I won’t presume to, but please remember you will be missed.

[ruthoakenshield]

Thorin and the Gem Carver (Part 13)

Once the maids arrive, Thorin and Balin go and sit out in the sitting area and talk about your idea, while the maids help you undress and take your hair down for you. You ask them to put you into your bed and they do, covering you up and soon you are fast asleep, exhausted by the day’s events so far.

 One of the maids stays with you while the other lets Balin and Thorin know that you are sleeping now and they can enter your room. They get up and head into your room with the tea Balin had made. They sit by the fireplace talking quietly, continuing the conversation and making plans to implement your suggestion. Starting in the Royal wing, and working out through the rest of the mountain, focusing on the most common paths guests take to the most frequently visited areas.

You begin to moan after a while and Balin gets up to check on you. Your hair is sprawled out around you as the maids had piled it behind the pillow, so it didn’t get all tangled beneath your body. Balin strokes your head and you moan again and try to shift positions.

He gently helps you turn onto your side and props some pillows on either side of you, so you don’t have a repeat of rolling off the bed. You quiet down and fall back into a restful sleep. He grins and comes to sit back down.

Thorin chuckles, watching his oldest friend dote on you. “You seem happy to finally have a daughter, Bâhaê ‘ugmul (my oldest friend).” Balin grins and nods, looking back at you fondly. “Aye, Lad. She gives me great joy, as I know she does for you as well.” He says with a wink and a smirk.

“We both have waited a long time. I am happy you found your One, Thorin, and I am honored that she chose me to step into the role as Adad for her.” Balin says. “I never dreamed I’d have a child to care for, since I never found my One. Perhaps she passed in battle, or during Smaug’s attack, I do not know. But even an adopted child is a blessing for me. I am glad she is grown, though. I do not have the energy to raise a child from a pebble any longer!” he chuckles.

Thorin grins. “We both are getting older, Balin. I raised Dis’ boys and would’ve been content with that. Now it seems I may still get to raise my own pebbles if Jade agrees to wed me.” He says and looks at you laying in your bed, nestled in a nest of pillows. Thorin grins, since you are laying on the side he usually sleeps on. He looks back at Balin when he hears him clear his throat. Balin is smirking and raises an eyebrow.

Thorin just grins and goes back to talking about the project you suggested. They get the plans worked out and decide to allow you to do this once you are able to carve once more as it is your idea and the mountain seems to sing and pulse with joy whenever you touch it.

After a bit, the two dwarves fall into a companionable silence, staring at the fire, each lost in their own thoughts. Thorin hears you whimper and glances over at you. He gets up quietly and goes to check on you since Balin had dozed off. He runs his hand over your face and caresses it gently. Your eyes open and you look up at him. “Thorin?” you whisper. “Yes, Gehyith (little Dove), what is it. Do you hurt?” he asks quietly. You nod. “My back aches.” You say.

Thorin frowns. “I will get Oin for you and have him look at it. Hopefully you didn’t shift something when Kili was holding you up.” He says. “Stay put and do not try to get out of this bed.” He tells you. “I will be back with Oin soon. Balin is here, dozing by the fire, so you are not alone.” He tells you. You nod and he hurries off to go find Oin. You sigh and try to turn onto your back, but the pillows are in the way. You growl, frustrated at your inability to move.

Balin hears you growl and gets up to see what is troubling you. “Lass, you alright?” he asks. “Where is Thorin?” he inquires, seeing the King is gone. “He went to get Oin. My back aches. He wants to make sure I didn’t shift something out of place when Kili was holding me up to stand.” You tell Balin. “Ahh. That must be why you were moaning in your sleep then.” He tells you. You nod.

“Balin, could you move the pillows out from behind me so I can lay on my back?” you ask. Balin frowns. “Perhaps we should wait to do that, Lass. It’ll be easier for Oin to examine your back if you are on your side, than on your back.” He says. You sigh. “I know, Sweetheart, this is not comfortable nor fun for you. Thorin had the same issues with his injuries from the Battle of the Five Armies. Just be patient. It won’t last forever.” He advises and gently rubs your back.

You sigh and cuddle the pillow you were leaning against. “Balin, how long did it take Thorin to be able to walk again?” you ask. Balin sighs. It was a few months, before Oin let him be up and walking. But his injuries were not to the spine, Sweetheart.” Balin tells you. “Oh.” You say quietly.

Balin comes around to stand in front of you. He sits on the edge of the bed and strokes your face. “I know you’re having a tough time, Sweetheart. Is there anything we can do for you to make it more bearable?” he asks. You sigh. “I don’t know, Adad. It was nice to be able to be upright and not sitting all the time. When Kili held me up in a standing position, it felt like my legs were waking up. You know, like when they go to sleep and feel numb, then you try to move them and they get all tingly like pins and needles poking into them.

Mine started to feel like that once he held me upright around my waist, then the feeling started to build, and then felt like it exploded and it would make my legs twitch and move. It felt odd at first, but the more it happened, the better it felt. I was just getting too tired to keep it up.” You try to explain. “I don’t know if I’m explaining it clear enough, but it felt good. Now it seems like sitting blocks the feeling, but standing lets it course through my legs.” You try to explain.

“Hmmm.” Balin says. “I understand what you are trying to describe, Jade. I get that pins and needle feeling in mine sometimes when the council meetings go for too long. I think we all have felt that at some point or another. What puzzles me though, is that you get it when standing and not when you are sitting. I will write to Elrond and explain it to him and ask what he thinks and what he suggests.” Balin tells you. “Are you still tired, Sweetheart, or have you rested enough now?” he inquires. You sigh. “I’ve rested enough, if I sleep any more, I won’t be able to tonight.” You explain.

Balin nods. He hears the doors open and close in the sitting room. “Ah, I think Thorin and Oin are coming.” He says and turns to face the door. It opens and, sure enough, Oin and Thorin enter along with Galadriel.

They come walking over to you and Oin says, “Thorin tells me Kili helped you stand a little this morning.” He says. “Well, I don’t know if you could call it standing, Oin.” You explain. “He held me upright and let my legs dangle down so my feet barely were resting on the ground. When he’d move, he’d tuck my feet on top of his, like Poppa would do with me when he’d teach me to dance when I was little.” You explain.

Oin nods. “Which way were you facing when he held you like that?” he asks. “My back was against his chest. He held me around the waist with his hands over my belly.” You tell him.

He nods, “Okay, good. I was a little worried there for a minute. If you’d have been facing him, the pressure on your spine might have shifted something, but he had your back supported properly, then. Now Thorin says your back is aching?” he inquires. You nod. It’s just a dull, throbbing, but uncomfortable enough to make it hard to sleep. I wanted to turn from one side to the other, but couldn’t.” you explain.

Oin lowers his hearing trumpet and thinks for a moment. Then raises it to his ear and asks, “How long did Kili hold you upright like that?” you shrug and look up at Balin. He thinks then says, “It was maybe ten minutes at the most. She was looking at the Raven statue in the Royal dining hall and had turned her body a little to examine the feet. Kili said it felt like she was unconsciously shifting her weight as if she were standing on her own. That’s when we saw her leg move on it’s own as if it were moving into place to take the weight when she shifted. But obviously, no weight was being placed on either of her feet.” Balin explains.

Oin lowers the trumpet and hums. “Let me take a look at your back, Sweetheart. You may have just irritated something. Did you feel any pain or strange sensations when he held you upright like that?” he inquires and holds his trumpet to his ear as he circles around the bed to your back.

“I felt no pain, but it did feel like my legs were having pins and needles, like when a limb falls asleep when it isn’t moved for a long time and then you go to move it and it gets all prickly feeling and feels like it’s a pin cushion. The sensation would build to a point then explode and make my leg twitch and move on its own.” You tell him.

“Oh! That’s good! That means the nerves are starting to make connections and heal!” Oin says happily. “Oin, why would Jade only feel it when she is being held in a standing upright position and not when she is sitting?” Balin asks.

Oin thinks for a few minutes. “I’m not sure, perhaps it has something to do with the way the muscles stretch when the body is sitting?” he ponders out loud. “Lady Galadriel, could you inquire for me with Lord Elrond and explain to him what is going on with Jade’s spine and ask him why she only gets the pins and needle feeling when she is being held in an upright standing position and not when she is sitting?” he asks.

She grins and nods. Galadriel moves over to the windows, opens one of them and gazes out towards Elrond’s realm. She stands like that for some time as Oin goes and examines your back. “Well, I feel nothing out of place, let’s try to apply some ice to it and see if it helps with the discomfort. It may just be that your body isn’t used to being in that position and the muscles got inflamed a bit. Just keep an eye on that. We should begin your therapy soon, now that we know you can move your legs when being held upright. Sweetheart, do you get the pins and needles when you lay on your back?” he asks. “I guess I don’t know. I didn’t notice them before, but I wasn’t trying to move when on my back either.” You say. “Except for when I rolled off the bed. It hurt really bad when I had tried to roll myself from one position to the other.” You add sheepishly.

Oin nods. “Let’s try something.” He says. Slowly he pulls out the pillows from behind you. He helps you to lie on your back and pulls the blankets down to the foot of the bed, making sure your night gown is covering you properly. “Now, see if you can move your legs or feet at all.” He says. You close your eyes and focus on trying to move your feet first. You feel a little bit of tingling, but not enough to move anything.

You frown, then get an idea. You lift yourself up on your elbows slightly and lean back putting traction on your spine. Oin starts to object but you feel the tingling amplify and shoot down your leg, making it twitch. His eyes get huge as you slump back down onto the bed.

“Sweetheart why did you lift yourself up to do that?” Thorin asks, puzzled. “Laying down, it only tingled a little, not enough to make my legs or feet move. It felt like something was blocking the signal. When I lifted my upper half onto my elbows then leaned back, it pulled enough on my spine that it let the tingling flow down my legs and allowed them to twitch.” You explain.

“Hmmm,” Oin says. So, you need traction to unblock the signal. Hmmm.” He hums, tapping his chin and stroking his beard.

Galadriel listened to your conversation with Oin while she conversed with Elrond in her mind. She told him what all she had seen and heard and what was going on now. It concerned him that you could only feel that pins and needles when the spine was put into traction. ‘Something is still blocking the path.’ He says to her. “I will send a message to Gwaihir and see if he will bring Arwen and myself back to Erebor. The longer this blockage lasts, the more damage it may end up doing.” He tells Galadriel. “For now, have them put ice on it to keep inflammation down and keep her on bed rest and her movements minimal until I can get there.” He tells Galadriel. She thanks him and they break communication.

“Oin,” Galadriel says as she turns from the window and closes it. “Elrond says to apply ice to her back and to keep her on bed rest and her movements to a minimal amount. He thinks something is still blocking the nerves and said they should not need the traction for the signals to reach her legs. He will come as soon as he can with my granddaughter but until they arrive, Jade is to be kept as still as possible.” She instructs.

You groan and put your arm over your face. “More bed rest!!!” you say annoyed. “I had hoped to get out of here for a while!” you bemoan. Thorin frowns. “I know, Sweetheart. But if you wish to walk again, we must follow Lord Elrond’s orders and do as he says.” He reminds you.

You just groan. “I wish I had not run into Mirkwood.” You grumble. “I know, Sweetheart.” Balin tells you as he gently rubs your head, “But you did and now we must deal with the consequences.” He reminds you gently. “It won’t last forever, Nâthuê kurdu (Daughter of my heart), give us time to figure out what is hindering your progress, okay?” he asks. You nod and a few tears trickle down your cheeks.

Balin sighs and wipes them away. “I sent a guard to get some ice for your back. He should return soon with it.” he tells you. You sigh and nod. You hear Galadriel in your mind telling you to be patient and just use this time to rest. Sighing, you close your eyes and end up falling asleep again as Balin strokes your soft, white hair.

They all move from the bed over to the fireplace sitting area and talk quietly about what to do to keep you occupied until Lord Elrond can determine what is wrong with your spine. Soon there is a knock on the door and Balin gets up to answer it. Dwalin and Julia enter and look concerned. “What’s going on?” They ask quietly. Balin ushers them over to your sitting area and explains what has been happening.

Dwalin looks over at you laying on your back now and sighs. “Poor lass.” He says. A soft knock is heard on the door and Dwalin goes to answer it. A guard is standing there with a small bundle wrapped in a pelt of fur. “Here. Master Balin asked for ice for Miss Jade’s back.” He explains. Dwalin nods and thanks him and tells him he can return to his post now. The guard bows and hurries out of the room.

Dwalin closes the door quietly and goes over to his brother. “Here’s the ice for Jade’s back.” He says. Oin glances up when Galadriel tells him in his mind that the ice has been brought. He gets up and takes it from Dwalin and wraps the thin chunk in a thick fabric, then has Dwalin gently lift you so he can place it under your spine where the injury is.

You moan at feeling someone lifting you slightly and cold block you are lowered onto. You shiver for a moment until it begins to numb the area and you fall back asleep. Oin looks at the clock and makes a note of the time. He tells Dwalin that they’ll need to remove the ice in 15 minutes. And let your body return to it’s normal temp before replacing it under your back again. He nods and looks at the clock.

They cover you back up, then go back and sit and visit with the others. After a while, Dis comes in and tells them that supper will be served in a half hour and that she has come to help Jade get ready for it. They pull her over to the fireplace and tell her what has been going on and she sighs. “Poor lass just can’t seem to catch a break! She just starts to make progress and has to take two steps back to square one again!” she huffs.

Everyone nods. “Hopefully Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen will be able to figure out what is causing the setback and will be able to heal it so this stops happening and Jade can finally start her therapy.” Thorin says quietly. He too is frustrated at all the setbacks you’re having. It’s hard for him to see you bedridden like this and worries you will want to give up again.

Galadriel senses Thorin’s frustrations and encourages him in his mind. “Be patient, Thorin. Keep encouraging Jade and continue to court her. She will be in need of the distractions until Elrond can arrive.” She reminds him. He nods and asks her in his mind, “How when she is bedridden and isn’t supposed to move much?” she smiles. “I’m sure you will find things the two of you can do with a chaperone, that will keep her entertained and her thoughts off of her predicament.

She loves your voice and your singing, try telling her about your recovery and how long it took you and what you did to pass the time.” She suggests. Perhaps help her to find new skills to occupy her mind that will strengthen her hands and her dexterity.” She adds. “Her ability to draw is almost as good as her ability to carve, Thorin. See if your clever dwarves can come up with some way for her to practice that while laying on one’s back.” She hints.

Thorin looks up at her and gives Galadriel a small nod and smile.” He stands and tells the little group he is going to go talk with Bofur and Bifur about something and will be back around suppertime.

“Bifur is in the toyshop and Bofur is helping Bombur get supper ready.” Dwalin tells him. Thorin nods and heads over to your bed. He gazes at you for a few minutes and caresses your face and hair. “

Men lananubukhs me, Ghivashelul! (I love you, my treasure of all treasures.) Please do not give up. I need you here with me.” He whispers into your ear as he leans down and gives your cheek a gentle kiss. You stir and lean your head against his, making him smile softly. “

Hurun ganat, Amrâlimê.

(Rest well, my love.)” he tells you then turns to leave.

More Chapters to come.

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[theimaginesyouneveraskedfor]

Dead of Night

A continuation of:

Ring of Fire

Heart of Gold

Chain of Fools

Sky Full of Stars

Out of the Blue

You stood in the kitchen that Thorin had built you. It was nicer than you deserved. He was nicer than you deserved. A king now that Thrain was gone. Yet despite his claims, you did not feel a queen. You barely felt like a wife in this empty house. 

Well, not exactly then. Your nephew Ralin was awaiting you in his high chair, pounding his small fist impatiently for the meal you had promised him. You set the bowl of berries before him and he grunted hungrily. He smushed one into his mouth messily and grabbed another. Like his father, Dwalin, he was ravenous in his appetites. He also preferred your apple tart to anything else. He focused on his food, his blue eyes just as bright as Raina's. The child also shared her impetuous nature; as demanding and stubborn as both parents.

Your womb had yet to quicken. It was not an uncommon struggle for dams but you were not only letting down your husband but his people. Why, he had married outside his own people, choosing a lowly and thus far barren dam from the Blue Mountains. Since his father had departed, his status had become all the more obvious. Hushed conversations with Dwalin and his brother, Balin. Midnight messages from dwarves far away but hailing from the same stolen mountain.

You smiled at Ralin, red and blue smears across his lips and cheeks. Raina would have been having a fit, endlessly tending to his mess though he would only only make more before he was done. You had volunteered to watch your nephew so that your mother could attend to the stall with her youngest daughter. You were left with the dwarfling as Thorin and Dwalin shared their weekly, almost ritualistic ale. 

When Ralin finished his berries, you wiped his hands and face clean as he resisted and giggled. He was a cheerful dwarfling despite his father’s innate demeanour. You lifted him from the high chair which sat empty and forgotten in the corner when he was not visiting. The door opened behind you, steps unheard on the back steps. Thorin entered and paused as you held your nephew, resting him on your hip and he touched your nose playfully.

“Hmmm,” Thorin chuckled as he kicked the dust from his boots, “Having fun?”

“Not just yet but maybe if you take him for a few minutes, I just might,” You teased.

“Come on,” He neared you, kissing your forehead as you kept Ralin from squirming, “You’re the best aunt he could ask for. I could only imagine--”

“Don’t.” You ordered before he could finish. You knew what he was going to say. He always said it. You hated it. It reminded you of how you were disappointing him. Of the helplessness you felt every month when your time came; uninterrupted and unchanged.

You turned and passed through into the living room, setting Ralin in the small pen Thorin had fashioned for him. You knew he wished it could be used for his own young one. Just like the high chair and the crib he thought you didn’t know about. Hidden in Dis’ shed beneath a sheet, waiting for a day which was not likely to come.

“I’m sorry,” He said quietly as he came up behind you. His hand rested on your hips as his nose brushed the top of your head. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m sorry I can’t make you happy.” You whispered.

“Y/N,” He hissed, grabbing your elbow and forcing you to turn to face him. His blue eyes burned yours and his hand found your chin as he cradled your face. “You make me happy. There hasn’t been a day since I’ve known you that I haven’t been entirely content.”

“It took Dis what? Months? And my sister, she was with child before she even had a betrothal,” You took his hand from your chin and held it, “I can’t help but feel unworthy.”

“Never,” Thorin breathed.

“I’m not a queen,” You rasped, “This is no palace.”

“It is because I built it for you,” He pulled you against him, embracing you warmly, “You are my queen and all I’ll ever need. I will never doubt you so please, have faith in me in kind.”

“I do,” You assured him, basking in his warmth, “It’s...hard.”

Ralin babbled and a wooden block clattered against the side of his pen. You looked to him and smiled despite the tightness in your throat. “I think he’s jealous,” Thorin mused.

Dis had arrived unexpectedly, you and Thorin having only just returned from your father's forge. You smelled of sweat and metal. She had knocked not long after your own entrance. Thorin had already fallen into the dark blue armchair he called his own. He did not rise so you were the one to receive his sister and her son.

Despite everything, you often found yourself keeping company with a child or two. If it wasn't Ralin, it was Fili. The youngest Durin and current heir to the bloodline took after his father. His blonde hair and green eyes marked him as peculiar among most dwarves. You were already certain he'd grow into a handsome prince. He was already clever, too.

Fili raced across the floor the moment Dis set him down. Ever since he had gained his legs, he had not ceased to cause trouble. You followed him and pulled out the chest of toys kept for your nephew's visits. He took a block eagerly and began his childish games, making noises as his imagination carried him away.

“A most unexpected visit, sister,” Thorin grumbled, chin in his hand lazily.

“Vinor should be along soon,” She placated. “Then you can share an ale and forget your troublesome wives.”

“He's always like this after work,” You rebuked. “Especially when he tried to show me how to do my work.”

“I was merely trying to help my dear wife,” He smirked.

“By getting in the way?” You countered.

“Helping you refine your practice,” He teased.

“Really?” You put your hand on your hip as you stared him down, “I’ve been forging since I could hold a hammer. What, my father cursed with two daughters, he had to make due with me.”

“Blessed, is what I’d say,” Thorin sat up, “Me, too, in that I can bask in the pleasures of his creation.”

“Quiet,” You chided and turned back to Dis, “Tea?”

“Might as well. Vinor’s never been particularly timely.” She accepted as she sat on the sofa a bit more heavily than you would expect.

“Thorin?” You asked over your shoulder as you headed to the kitchen.

“I’ll take that ale,” He called after you.

“Then you’ll pour it yourself,” You sang back.

You went about heating up the kettle and pouring two cups for your and your sister-in-law. By the time the scent of steamed herbs rose in your nostrils, your fatigue had made itself known. The day caught up with you as you passed back into the den, setting Dis’ brew beside her on the table as she watched her son and brother on the floor.

Thorin had moved from his presumed throne, laying across the carpet as he held his nephew over him, the dwarfling giggling as he was maneuvered through the air. Your husband tossed him and caught him with ease, his own deep chuckles mingling with the delighted squeals of Fili. You smiled at the scene, a knock keeping it from fully blooming.

You set down your cup on the mantle above the hearth and disappeared into the small hallway. Vinor greeted you with a peck on your cheek and a mumbled hello. He was always soft-spoken, at least without ale in his veins, and a humble dwarf to boot. He was not much like his brother-in-law. Thorin was outspoken, sometimes too much, whereas Vinor spoke only when he thought needed.

“My wife,” You followed him back into the den as he crossed to his wife, sitting beside her carefully as he stretched his arms over her shoulders and pulled Dis to him. He kissed her forehead before relaxing against the sofa and turning to watch Thorin and his son in their wrestling match.

“Well, Thorin,” Vinor shared a knowing look with Dis before he began. She gave a small nod, for once letting him do the talking. A strong tongue ran in her family. “I hope he’s not tiring you out too much.”

“Not at all,” Thorin replied as Fili leaped onto his back, “He keeps me sharp.”

“Then another wouldn’t be any trouble to fend off then, eh?” Vinor’s cheeks turned rosy and he grinned as he took his wife’s hand and squeezed it. “Another nephew to keep you young?”

“Another?” Thorin held Fili at bay as his mouth fell open. He looked up at Dis, his haired hanging messily around his face from his struggle. Her hand touched the stomach of her gown. You had only just recognized the garment. It was one which she had worn when she had first begun to ground round with her first child. “Why, I think that would be more to my advantage than Fili’s. I could use an ally.”

You swallowed and took your tea quickly, hiding your dismay behind it as you sipped. You weren’t unhappy, only, well you weren’t sure how to explain it. You were happy for Dis and yet that pit inside your chest deepened. You felt even more empty as you watch Fili reached out for his uncle once more. You held back the snapping jealousy and forced a smile across your lips, clearing your throat. It all came so easily for the true princess.

“What lovely news,” You chimed, “Ralin would loved yet another playmate. Why the three of them together might just knock some sense into my husband.”

“Ralin?” Thorin exclaimed dramatically, “I forgot about that little monster. Already as fearsome as his father…and mother.”

“Indeed,” Dis agreed, “A trio of royal cousins.”

“A strong future for our people,” Thorin said, “Durin and Fundin will rule once again.”

You kept silent as you eyes burned and your throat tightened. You were suddenly overwhelmed and the tea was bitter on your tongue. You set aside your cup again and forced away the bile rising within. “I should begin dinner before we get to distracted,” You intoned, “We can celebrate over some roast beef. My mother’s own recipe.”

“And some maple tart, my love,” Thorin added.

“If there is any left,” You returned as you neared the doorway, “After your midnight snacking.”

“There is another in the pantry. I know you always make extra.” He bantered, “And I always find that one, too.”

You shook your head at his last jape and left them behind. Entering the kitchen, you crossed to the counter and gripped its edge, bracing yourself as you forced the breath from your lungs slowly. You should be happy for Dis, you should feel this way. You were still young; still able. You just had to be patient.

Even so, you felt so inadequate. What was king without an heir?

Kili was born in the summer. He was his mother’s son; with dark hair and a demanding nature, but sweet. Ralin and Fili were happy for another friend though it made days when you minded them all the more hectic. But those times grew few and far between. You had retreated to your father’s forge for fear of yourself. You hated the way you felt towards your own kin. The resent you harboured despite your best efforts.

It was early, sky was still dark. Thorin was snoring beside you. You sat up and admired his profile in the dim light. You forced yourself away from him and dressed without a lamp. You crept out, lacing your boots on the front steps before departing. It was supposed to be your day off but it had been a restless night and you need a hammer in hand to settle yourself. Dis was to visit, Raina too and the house would be full of dwarflings. You just needed a break.

Your mother was awake as early as ever. When you entered, she kept her voice low and beckoned you to sit at the table as she cooked. The house felt emptier these days; both her daughters married and with homes of their own.

“Your father’s sleeping still,” She said, “I figured I’d let him.”

“Thorin, too,” You replied, “I...need a day to myself.”

“Oh?” She set a mug of coffee before you, “And I suppose you intend to spend it at the anvil?”

“I need the distraction,” You sipped from the dark brew.

“You need to slow down,” You mother admonished, “My dear, you’ve been working yourself ragged.”

“I’m fine,” You insisted, “I can handle the work.”

“Daughter,” Your mother rounded the table, placing her hand gently on your shoulder, “You cannot hate yourself as such. The day will come but you must be patient.”

“Maamr,” You rasped, relinquishing your cup, “It...I don’t think--”

Your voice caught as you heard the familiar distant creak of your parents’ bed. You shook your head, not wanting your father to overheard. You waited for him to emerge from his chamber, listening as he rose and took a few steps. They stopped suddenly and thick silence filled the house, time seeming to stop before a crash broke the eerie lull.

A groan followed and you rose, toppling your chair as you rushed past your mother. She followed and you found your father across the floor. You recalled the last you had found him thus. Years ago. You fell to your knees and turned him over in your lap, feeling for pulse beneath his whitening beard. It had been silver when last he had fallen.

“Maamr,” You looked up at her as you cradled your father, “Fetch a medic, please. He still breathes.”

Her eyes were crystalline as tears sparkled along them, waiting to fall. She grasped her throat and nodded, turning back as she made for the door. She moved more quickly than you thought her capable. Your hands were shaking as you looked back to your father. His breathing was wheezy, his palour drained. His naturally ruddy cheeks were gaunt.

Your lip trembled as you stood and lifted him with a grunt. He wasn’t so heavy as before. You angled him back onto his bed, his head on the pillow as you spread him out. You gripped his hand as you sat beside him and waited for help. This was no time for patience.

You kept hold of your father’s hand even as the medic had worked on him. The sweat on the blond brow of the healer gave you little hope. His name was Oskin and he was stern dwarf, but skilled. He worked around you, sighs escaping his lips as he tended to the fallen smith. Finally, he backed away, shaking his head sullenly as he unrolled his sleeves.

“Frita,” He approached your mother. Her arms were crossed and her face sullen. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” She raised her hands, “I knew the time was close.”

You gulped and looked back to your father. You couldn’t turn away from him; couldn’t let go of him as he remained inert. “A day or two,” You heard Oskin say before he left. Your mother said your name but you didn’t hear the rest of her words. You felt her hand on your arm but your shrugged her off. She sat in the chair next to the bed as you stayed beside your father. You were numb, so much so that you couldn’t move; you could barely think.

Thorin’s voice came later. He touched your shoulder and kissed your cheek but you did not flinch. He knelt beside you and spoke to you and then your father. But he couldn’t hear Thorin, the same he couldn’t feel your hand around his. Raina showed next, Dwalin and Ralin with her. The dwarfling tugged at your leg but you didn’t move.

“She won’t talk,” You heard your mother whisper. “She hasn’t moved and she’s not even cried.” He voice was weepy and full of tears.

“Y/N,” Thorin called to you, taking your other hand. He tried to force you away but you tugged your hand from his. “Please, you must eat. You must sleep.”

You shook your head, almost imperceptibly. He stood over you, you could feel his eyes on you, but he stepped away without further argument. The night came and you heard muffled voices in the kitchen. Your mother laid down beside your father, nestling into him as if he were still alive. She whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek on last time. She kissed yours before she finally left you alone and you clenched your jaw.

The house was suddenly silent. Everyone else was sleeping. You lifted your father’s hand and traced it with your thumbs. “I’m sorry,” You said quietly, “I’m sorry I never gave you a grandchild. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” You leaned over him, resting your head on his chest. His heartbeat was faint.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this. That you have to go.” You continued, “Why do you have to leave me when I’m so alone?” You closed your eyes, “I love you, Ada.” You listened, holding your breath as the beat came slower and quieter. And then, it stopped. “No,” You whispered, “No, no, no,” You repeated over and over.

Your voice came louder and louder until tears spilled forth and you began to choke. You wrapped your arms around your father’s lifeless form one last time and sat up, letting loose a wail; so sharp it scared even you. You crumbled over your father’s chest and sobbed, you body wracked. The door opened behind you as you began to slip to the floor. Thick arms caught you, Thorin holding you in his lap as you dissembled; rocking you like a child.

“He’s gone,” You said, burying your face in his neck, “Thorin...he’s gone.”

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Never say never - Chapter 11

Yeah, by now, you know the drill :D

WIP of my heart and so on :D

°11° ~Victoria~

Victoria had not even noticed that the time had flown; she had been so entranced by this strange tale that was so unlike the ones she had been allowed to read at home. There was an immature, sick longing in her gut whenever that strange, stern man came on screen; he reminded her much of the men she had grown up around and it repelled and attracted her in equal measures. Then again, Thornton was much more handsome than anyone she’d ever seen before.

Hiddleston sat, motionless, on his chair, watching her as much as he watched the movie.

His heart broke for her when she gasped and hid her face in her hands during the botched demand for Margaret’s hand, and he smiled along with her every time Thornton’s mother spoke.

“My mother would have loved a son like that, I think. Unfortunately, none were granted to her.” Victoria confessed to the screen, wiping her eyes angrily as new tears welled up against her will.

They had finished their cakes and their tea and now sat with their hands in their laps, watching an old movie.

The doorbell rang and she paused the movie to go down and see who it could be. The darkness outside took her by surprise; had that much time passed? Was it evening already?

“Are you crying? What has he done to you?” Liza pushed past her, but Victoria’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

“He’s been nothing but kind and helpful. It is the movie…it…startles me.” Victoria confessed, looking up when Hiddleston came down the stairs, a broad smile on his face.

“I’m sorry, I know I was not invited, I…” Jenna murmured in a hushed voice. Victoria understood though, she knew how desperately one could long to see a pretty face again. The huge box Angie was holding in her arms that had been left on her doorstep was a testament to that.

“So…how do you find Thornton?” Angie asked, putting the box in a much more reasonable corner of the hallway than Victoria had previously chosen for her books that were still lying partly under the treacherous hallstand.

“He’s…a sourpuss.” Victoria replied, walking to her kitchen to get the number of the pizza delivery.

“Richard was roughly your age then.” Liza prompted her. “Armitage? He looks better now.” Victoria replied with a shrug.

“He doesn’t. Get out!” Liza cried out, stumbling over the books as well as she followed Victoria into the kitchen.

“What would you know?” Victoria laughed, earning a wink and a nod from Hiddleston which made her prouder than it should have. His support buoyed her spirits, she found, and she gave him a warm smile.

“I have known the man for years.” Liza snapped, laughing at Victoria’s dumbfounded face.

They ordered pizza and no-one had the heart to tell Hiddleston to leave, so he retrieved his chair from upstairs and they got comfortable in the small parlour looking out on a neat, little garden while waiting.

“Let me see what you’ve got here.” Liza, brazen as always, started piling up the books and, opening the box, spreading the ordered movies on the table as well. Her jaw went slack upon discovering the scope of Victoria’s “research”.

“Hmmm, this reminds me,” she said, looking up from the piles, “Armitage lets you know that he’s starred in a few horror movies. He thinks you might take pleasure in that.”

“Naaaaa, he’d certainly die. The pretty ones always die.” Victoria replied, trying to snatch away her books and movies from the prying eyes of her friends…without much success. “Hence why he thought you’d like them.” Liza quipped.

“I’m not a monster, Liza! I have been deplorably rude to the man, but that does not mean that I’d enjoy seeing him die.” Victoria shook her head, still grabbing at her possessions only to have them whisked away by Jenna and Angie.

“You might want to stop with the movie you’re presently watching then, dear.” Hiddleston commented, an uncomfortable expression on his face. He and Liza exchanged a worried look over the table, glancing down on the DVDs spread out under their noses and then back at each other again.

“You’re right. The pretty ones always die…so do the evil ones.” Angie offered carefully, but Vic rolled her eyes.

They were putting words in her mouth, she thought, she had never called the man “evil”, had she? She had thought and called him “dangerous”, but she could not pass judgment over his soul, if he had one that was.

Victoria bit her lip, these thoughts: stupid, rash, inconsiderate words that might easily have spilled out of her mouth, were the very reason why everyone suspected that she secretly hatched some dark plot to assassinate Armitage.

“I’ve known evil men. He doesn’t directly strike me as being evil.” Victoria skirted the unspoken question. “But indirectly, he does?” Liza dug deeper within a moment.

If Victoria hadn’t known better, she would have believed that she was on the verge of being married to Armitage; only nobody had told her about it beforehand. Why did everyone care so much about what she thought about him?

“I…meant that he oftentimes…inhabits…erm…performs…you know.” Angie drew helpless shapes into the air. “He’s the bad guy, he plays the bad guy.” Liza interrupted harshly, observing Vic’s face.

“Makes sense. What a scowl.” Vic laughed, turning to retrieve the pizza when the doorbell rang, humming to herself.

Only, it was not the pizza. It was Martin Freeman, holding a stack of papers and asking for Liza.

“Liza? It’s Martin. Why is he at my door? How does he know where I live?” Vic called into the house, stepping out of the doorframe, and letting Martin enter. “Welcome to my humble abode.” She laughed, shaking her head.

“Ah, you come when the work is done!” Hiddleston cried out in mockery, but went to retrieve a chair for the newcomer, nonetheless. “Here’s the…what do you mean?” Martin gave up on the business-conversation he was about to have with Liza and turned to Hiddleston instead, who was more than happy to recount his whole afternoon with Vic in detail.

Victoria knew she should be mortified, but her mood had mellowed considerably after her shopping-spree, and it had been pleasant to sit in the failing light with Hiddleston and watch that mysterious movie everyone seemed to know.

“I also have a gift for you, so your withering anger will not fall on me.” Martin said with a humorous gleam in his eye. Making her promise not to attempt any kind of voodoo or other witchcraft on them, he presented her with two dolls. She took them with a confused look on her face, waving her hand at Jenna to turn on the little lamp in the corner of the room.

“Oh. My. GOD.” She exclaimed as she recognised the characters. These were not the kind of hard-plastic dolls she had thought of; in her mind, she had seen actual action-figures, but these were funny and adorable, like cartoonish bobble-heads.

“Look at them, Liza, Angie, Jenna, come look at them.” Victoria exclaimed, holding the dolls up with such obvious, child-like delight that the men couldn’t help but stare. There were obviously shards of a broken childhood embedded in her soul and she had grown around them, making her 70% scar tissue and wounds.

“I…I am glad you like them.” Martin said, carefully; he had expected mockery and outright rejection, he had been prepared to have his dolls thrown at his head in disdain, never would he have been able to predict the joy with which she cradled the effigy of men she seemingly despised.

“Are they collectibles? Am I to keep them in that box?” Victoria asked, insecurity making her voice tremble. “Not really, you can if you want to, someone might pay a pretty penny for them one day, but…they’re not like the Ming-vase or the Persian rug…You can take them out and play with them.” Liza answered, holding her hand up discreetly so none of the others would say anything careless that might hurt Vic deeply in her vulnerable, open state of mind.

The doorbell rang again, and Liza nodded to signal that she’d go accept the pizzas. “You go ahead.” She said to Vic who was ever so carefully taking her dolls out of the boxes, placing them on the table and providing a napkin for them to sit on comfortably.

“Thank you so much, I want to say that my anger is not withering…but you have my deepest affection right now.” Vic mumbled humbly and hugged Martin awkwardly. “You are an astonishing woman. If we had known that a Bilbo- and a Thorin-doll would make you so happy, we’d have started by that.” Martin chuckled, gazing at the two inanimate objects he had seen be showered with a tenderness, so earnest and deep, he had never seen her grant to any living creature.

“Stay and have pizza with us.” She invited Martin when Liza came back, carrying the steaming boxes.

~Richard~

He didn’t even want to pick up the phone when Martin’s name appeared. The last time he had done that, things had taken a terrible turn for him, and he was not eager to repeat the experience.

He should have known better than to think that his friend would give up that easily though, and, after a few solid minutes of unnerving vibration, Richard gave in and accepted the call.

“Hey. I found the way into Vic’s heart.” Martin declared without preamble, describing her reaction when he had handed her the dolls that were now resting on a chair reserved for them while Hiddleston was sitting on the carpet.

“Wait…you’re at her place? You’re having a party and I’m not invited? Wow, thanks.” Richard knew that he was petty and that his tone might betray that he was not entirely joking either. “I just swung by to deliver some documents, Liza gave me the address and because I made an appropriate gift, I was asked to stay.” Martin sounded weirdly proud of himself.

“What are you doing? Who are you talking to?” Vic’s voice resounded in the background, followed by a mumbled complaint about how she was not running a boarding house. “I just told Richard about how much you liked the dolls. Shouldn’t I have?” Martin’s voice was contrite, but also a bit challenging.

“Armitage? Oh, hello.” Victoria’s voice grew very quiet instantly and Richard hated the fact that the mere mention of his name made her joy flicker out like a candle in a draught.

“He feels left out.” Martin snitched. “I had no intention of having any of you here, it has just happened.” Victoria squeaked helplessly, but she could see how this must look.

“I didn’t know anything about this meeting until this afternoon. Jenna was not invited, Tom helped and stayed, you came here with a gift…” Victoria tried to justify herself. “I cannot ask Armitage to come here and watch his own movies with me, can I? Or have him play with my dolls?”

“Richard, how do you feel about shameless narcissism?” Martin asked him suddenly and Richard had to do a double take to even find the words to reply to such a ludicrous question: “Erm, I don’t know.”

“What is going on?” Another voice called from far away and he heard Vic yell back that Martin had ratted her out to him and that now, he was disgruntled at not having been invited to a completely unplanned and chaotic get-together.

“Well, your house, your rules.” The other voice replied, and Victoria uttered a low grunt of frustration.

“Please, tell Mister Armitage that he is as free to come startle me at my home as any of the people here now.” Victoria spoke haughtily to Martin before withdrawing again. “Really?” Martin called after her. “Really.” She replied from further away with a small peal of laughter.

Martin then proceeded to swear that this had not been planned and that he genuinely did not believe that Victoria had taken any precautions to consciously exclude Richard. “She really liked the doll by the way and there’s a whole stack of books and movies on the living room table. Many of them…with you in them.”

Richard had no idea why Martin was telling him all that, but he was feeling lonely, and it was somehow nice to be told anecdotes and funny stories about people they both knew. It turned out that Hiddleston had indeed stayed and helped get the mysterious drawing room into shape for the furniture Vic had ordered and received the same day.

Must have cost a pretty penny, Martin joked. He also described the slight chaos and the many colourful clothes lying around. “I haven’t seen the drawing room yet. Want me to go check?” He said in a mischievous tone.

Informing the others with a careless call into the direction of the living room, he made his way upstairs, and towards the room from which a blueish light was emanating.

“Mother of Christ.” He cursed and Richard was invested enough by now to almost beg his friend to describe what he saw.

Martin was more than happy to oblige, telling him that it was a lovely room with big windows that let in a lot of light during the day. Now, the room was plunged into darkness though and against the faded tapestry stood an antique bookshelf, ready to welcome all the books he had seen lying around downstairs.

He also described the dainty and distinctly feminine ottoman in the middle of the room and the treadmill in the corner that seemed so anachronous compared to the other pieces of furniture.

“Don’t.” Martin whipped around to find Vic standing in the door, nodding at the still on her screen. “Don’t what?” Richard asked, curiouser than ever now, as he heard that Victoria had followed Martin upstairs.

Maybe, she was afraid that he was secretly taking pictures of her underwear for Richard?

“She…She’s watching porn on her new telly.” Martin blurted out and Richard heard the shocked gasp from Victoria.

He was not exactly sure that this was the truth, Liza had said something about North & South, but would Martin call that “porn”? Yeah, he would, without batting an eye.

“Ah, Richard, Vic wants to talk to you.” Martin said while he was still deep in thought, damn it, would she always take him by surprise? “Hello Mister Armitage.” Her voice was heard now, shy and demure, maybe even a tad embarrassed.

He thought that this might well be the first time that she greeted him unprompted and his name in her mouth gave him a tiny jolt of pleasure. There was still that distance in her tone, but right now, it sounded a lot more like reverence than like rejection. “Hello? Sir?” Her tone faltered and he kicked himself into action. “Hello Miss Victoria.”

A tiny sigh was heard, followed by Martin’s cackle and the sound of something heavy thudding to the floor.

“I just wanted to say that we did not purposefully exclude you. I don’t want you to think that.” She sounded apologetic, he thought, and by the shifting of the background noise, he could tell that she was pacing around the room.

“It was a joke. I am not that self-absorbed that I really believe that everyone has to invite me everywhere.” He said quickly, embarrassed about being taken literally when he was just acting like a mopey brat.

She didn’t immediately reply to that, and his spirits sank, of course she wouldn’t really want to have him in her home, would she? She had never hidden the fact that she hadn’t taken to him particularly and it was his own problem if he let that hurt him.