#imagine gandalf listening to him doing this and slowly losing the will to live

[arrantsnowdrop]

Informalities - Éomer x reader

Request:  “Eomer x reader fic where the reader is from our world and Eomer listens to the stories the reader says of our world and he thinks that it is a grand place and so when they are finally getting together, Eomer feels kind of insecure cuz he feels he'll never live up to the reader's "standards" and the reader says that they are insecure because he is a prince and she has nothing"

Tags: @thewhiteladyofrohan

Warnings: mention of battles and death, about 2,200 words

A/N: Hoppy Easter lads and lasses, we are back from a many month writing hiatus. Hope y’all enjoy, I’m glad to be here :)

You genuinely had no idea how you’d ended up in Middle Earth.

It was one of those fever dream situations - one moment you were falling asleep in your own bed, and the next you were waking up at the bottom of a tree, surrounded by many bearded and concerned looking men.

Of course you’d been startled and so, so confused, but it had only taken you a few moments to recognize the characters from one of your favorite stories, and then you’d fully accepted your new reality.

By the time you first encountered the fellowship, they had already lost Gandalf at Moria and passed through the realm of Lothlorien. They were traveling in their fancy elvish boats when they’d spotted you from the river. You were extremely grateful for that - who knows what would’ve happened if the Uruk-hai tracking them had found you first.

Boromir and Gimli were quite intimidated by your presence, having been brought up in traditions that designated men for warrior roles. Aragorn and Legolas were much more accepting (female elves were just as badass as any male elf or man, and both of them knew that). The hobbits had all taken an immediate liking to you, and you’d been devastated to lose them during the Uruk ambush. Of course, this only gave you a stronger drive to track them into Rohan with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli.

It was there that you met Éomer for the first time, after his riders surrounded your small group of assumed invaders.

He was handsome, there was no denying that, and you found his decision to protect Rohan even in exile extremely brave. He’d been startled by your presence (a group including a dwarf, an elf, AND a woman must’ve been an oddity for him), and thus had talked primarily with Aragorn, but you could not shake the way his eyes locked with yours as he offered you his condolences about Merry and Pippin.

You figured you’d never see the handsome blonde again, glumly complaining to Gimli about it several times throughout Rohan.

Thus, you’d been overjoyed when he arrived at the Battle of Helm’s Deep - half because he was saving your asses from almost certain death, and half because you’d get to see his face and hear his voice again.

You followed Aragorn after the battle, searching for Gandalf in the celebrating crowd. It did not take long, with his bright white robes being quite easy to pick out.

“Gandalf!” you screamed gleefully, weaving between the people around you to get to the smiling wizard.

“It is good to see you, (Y/n),” he said as you embraced him.

“Oh, it’s even better to see you,” you said.

“I have to agree with (Y/n),” Aragorn said from behind you. You pulled back, allowing Gandalf time to greet your friend, and quickly caught sight of a familiar face.

He had been laughing with some other men when his gaze fell on you, eyes locking with yours for the second time. You smiled a bit and offered an awkward wave, face flushing as he flashed you a smile.

“Ah, (Y/n), this is Lord Éomer, current heir to the throne of Rohan,” Gandalf said, noticing the two of you staring at each other.

“We’ve met before,” he said, walking towards you

“Indeed we have,” you replied as he stopped just in front of you. “It is a pleasure to meet you, oh-future-king,” you said, bowing a bit.

You could hear Aragorn slap his forehead from behind you and grinned.

“She’s not from around here, so do forgive her manners,” Aragorn said.

“Or lack thereof,” you added, straightening yourself once more and looking at Éomer’s amused face.

“I appreciate the informality,” Éomer grinned. You spun around and pointed at Aragorn.

“See? Someone appreciates me,” you accused.

You were extremely happy to meet Éomer. It’s not that you didn’t adore Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli, but they were also the only people you’d been around for quite a while. It was exciting to make a new friend, especially one so handsome and charismatic.

The two of you spent the entire ride to Isengard delving into each other’s lives, from childhoods to secret fears to favorite foods. Obviously, the two of you had led quite different lives, and he was fascinated by the world you had come from.

“These cars you speak of, are they like horses?” he asked.

“No, they’re much faster,” you replied. “They’re more like a carriage, since they have space for several people inside.”

“But it moves without a horse?”

“Yup!”

“Who steers in then?”

You were grinning ear to ear at the look of bewilderment on his face.

“One of the people inside,” you answered. “There’s a wheel to control which direction you go and pedals on the floor to control the speed.”

“That sounds terribly complicated,” Éomer said, brows furrowing.

“It’s not too bad,” you said, “I was even pretty good at it.”

Éomer shot you an alarmed look.

“You used to steer these...these things?” he asked incredulously. You laughed and nodded. “You have to be taught how to do it,” you explained. “It’s not like they throw you into it without any preparation.”

“It still sounds extremely dangerous,” he decided.

“I did break my arm in a crash once,” you said thoughtfully. He gasped.

“You can crash them?”

Éomer had quickly become one of your favorite people, which only made the continuous battles over the fate of Middle Earth even more stressful. You were terrified he would ride into a fight and never return, and even more terrified of what that meant.

You’d searched for him for hours after the Battle for Minas Tirith, heart growing more and more heavy as you continued. Every person you asked had no idea where he was, and by the time you returned to the White City, your hands were shaking with anxiety. Finding him outside of the makeshift infirmary that had been set up was the most relieving moment of your entire life.

You had gasped the moment you caught sight of his all too familiar golden hair, letting out a desperate sob as his eyes met yours, him rushing over to you and wrapping you in his arms. Your embrace was filled with all the emotions both of you were too terrified to say aloud.

“I thought you were dead,” you murmured into his chest, eyes wet and lips trembling.

“It will take far more than a few Oliphaunts to kill me,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted nothing more than to tell him in that moment how much you loved him, but decided against it. You knew the fighting was not over, the last thing you needed was for him to be distracted by you during battle and find himself impaled with some pointy object. If you both lived to the end of this, you would tell him then.

But then you were too scared to do it.

Of course you had won - the ring had been destroyed, Aragorn had led the crusade against the forces of Mordor, and Gondor was preparing to crown its long lost king. Everyone was staying in Minas Tirith until the coronation, but then everyone was leaving. All your friends would be heading home, but you did not have one of those here in Middle Earth.

Aragorn had already offered you a place in Gondor’s leadership, and thus a permanent residence with him, and the hobbits were more than happy to escort you back to the Shire with them, but you knew both of these options would separate you from the one person you wanted to be with.

All you wanted was to follow Éomer back to Edoras, but you were unsure if that would be best for him. He was about to be crowned king of Rohan, and probably had many ladies of Rohan’s nobility lined up to rule with him. It was selfish for you to think you had any right to his heart, especially when his duties and responsibilities were so much more important than an outspoken, title-less woman.

So you distanced yourself from him. You avoided him whenever possible, taking the longest routes you could to dinners and meetings. You tried not to be affected by his desperate gaze, or the way he called for you as you rushed out of a room. It hurt you more than anything, but you knew it would be better for him in the long run. You succeeded with your plan until the night before Aragorn’s coronation.

You’d been walking home from dinner (a huge, pre-celebration feast that qualified as a celebration itself) through an old, twisty corridor. You opened the door to your room only to see Eomer sitting on your bed, a worried look on his face.

You jumped slightly, startled by his presence.

“What are you doing in here?” you said breathlessly. “This is totally an invasion of my privacy and absolutely uncalled for at such a late hour, you almost gave me a heart attack-”

“Forgive me,” he interrupted, standing up from the bed, eyes fixated on you. You both stood there in silence for some time, the closest you’d been to each other for the first time in days.

“I missed you,” he murmured finally. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

You looked down at your feet and nodded. You did not want to see the look of betrayal that he was undoubtedly wearing.

“Why?” he whispered. You winced at the sound of hurt in his voice.

“You would not understand Éomer, but I promise it was in your best interest,” you replied.

“You are my best friend, (Y/n), how could ignoring me benefit me?” he asked incredulously. You looked up at him, trying to ignore the tears beginning to form in your eyes.

“Éomer-”

“Please,” he cut you off desperately, slowly walking towards you. “I have missed you more than you could possibly imagine.” “That is the issue,” you whispered, closing your eyes to avoid looking at him.

“How is that an issue?” he begged.

“Because you are about to be a king,” you shouted, eyes still closed. “And you will leave after tomorrow with everyone else, back to Edoras, where new responsibilities will be awaiting you and demanding your attention.”

“How does that have anything to do with you?” he asked, voice sounding a lot closer than before. You gulped, sensing him right in front of you.

“I would be a distraction,” you replied meekly. Éomer did not reply, but instead reached to grab your hands with his own, you gasping as he pulled you into his chest.

“(Y/n), you are not a distraction, how could you-”

“I do not want you to leave me here,” you interrupted, resting your forehead against him. “I am so scared I’ll never see you again, but your life is about to be so much more important than me.”

“I do not want to leave you here,” he said, wrapping his arms around your back. “I want you to come with me. You’re my best friend, how could I abandon you?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” you whispered, “even if I were physically with you, that would not stop me from...from…”

You stopped and bit your lip, terrified of the confession about to pour out of you. Éomer moved his hand below your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

“Stop you from what?” he whispered intensely, eyes searching your face desperately. You exhaled breathily.

“I love you, Éomer,” you said softly, watching as his expression softened. “So, so much.”

He blinked once, twice, registering what you had just said, and smiled, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours.

“I love you more than anyone, (Y/n),” he murmured.

“But, surely there are women back in Rohan who are far more suitable for-”

“(Y/n),” Éomer said seriously, pulling away to look you in the eyes once more. “I have the power to be with whomever I choose.”

“But why would you choose me?” you asked meekly. Éomer chuckled, brushing a stray bit of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear tenderly. You leaned into his hand slightly, relishing in the way he cupped your face.

“I was more nervous that you wouldn’t choose me,” he admitted. You look at him in confusion.

“How could I not choose you?” you asked.

“You’re much more interesting than I am,” he shrugged. “You come from a world that is so much more exciting than mine, and the last thing I want is for you to settle for me.”

“Éomer, you stab people with swords and ride horses all day. And live in a castle. That is insanely cool,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “Of course I choose you.”

“And I choose you,” he murmured, pulling you closer to him. “Please come home with me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding fervently. “Yes, please.”

Éomer grinned, tilting your face up to his once more and leaning down to kiss you. Your heart leaped, hand reaching up to grab the back of his head to intensify the kiss. He moaned softly, bending down to pick you up and twirling you around. You giggled and pressed your nose against his.

“I’m thinking we make my coronation far less formal than Aragorn’s,” Éomer said, “as much as I’ve been loving these dinners, I don’t think I could stand hosting them.”

“You know I’m fantastic at informalities,” you replied.

#eomer x reader #eomer #eomer of rohan #eomer fanfiction #eomer imagine #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings

[thorinsbestie]

First time writing in english, is still hard for me to make paragraphs have sense, sorry :'3

War and Victory

Five months stood in the past since (y/n) magically appeared in front of everyone's eyes thanks to a mischief of Gandalf, after that she had been reluctantly accepted into Thorin's Company. Her relationship with the dwarves at first was not the best, however with the passing of days it improved little by little; now everyone treated her as if she were an old friend of theirs.

(Y/n) was lively, although most of her scandal and shamelessness led her to be the victim of the constant scolding that Thorin dedicated to his nephews. The three of them were somewhat common personalities, after a week or two the Li brothers and (y/n) had easily turned to nail and grime. It was no wonder why they had become best friends so quickly, both princes adored her, especially since (y/n) used to cunningly challenge their uncle, defying his words with a playfulness that drove the poor dwarf king mad and ended him musing incomprehensible words in khuzdul.

Today everyone had stopped in a town of men to reload ammunition of food and medicinal herbs. Being so late Thorin had agreed to stay in a tavern, the dwarves would share two rooms and the last one was left free for Bilbo, Gandalf and the human; luckily for (y/n) the hobbit was downstairs with the rest of the Company enjoying their free time. (Y/n) needed to talk with the Istari about a painful subject that she had been hiding in the depths of her soul since her arrival in Middle Earth.

As they approached the Lonely Mountain her heart stumbled more full of regret while remembering the tragic losses that all would suffer in the future.

"Gandalf, it's time for us to talk," she began, turning her cheerful face off with a pained expression, "you told me in the beginning that it was you who brought me here. You revealed to me that you were aware of everything I know about the future of Durin's sons and you asked me to keep the secret until I understood the purpose of my visit" the wizard looked towards the wood of the floor instead of her pleading eyes "I ... I think or rather I feel that from the first moment I came I knew what my role was. Five months have passed and my suspicions about this purpose it's now confirmed ... and I... I have made a mistake" she swallowed "a feeling that I already brought with me from my world was reinforced, I feel so desperate to prevent them from dying that…"

"Do you think it is correct to change the flow of events?"  the wizard interrupted.

"I believe… is no longer important if this is correct or not. I adore Fili and Kili, and I love Thorin. I have been in love with him since I read his story in my world!"

"And do you love him enough to lay down your life for him?"  he asked sternly. Gandalf's pale eyes piercing her soul. "You must think wisely about what you want to do, young lady. Yes, it is true that I have brought you to be the one who is choosing the destiny of Durin, and I know this is a difficult decision. But why would you lay down your life for someone whose feelings are not mutual?" his words were a hard blow to (y/n), but she remained firm "what will you gain by saving them? If Thorin lives he will be king of a kingdom of dwarves, do you think there will be an opportunity for you if you survive as well? Do not judge me as cruel, I just want to open your blind eyes from an illusion whose expectatives of being fulfilled are almost nil. If Thorin becomes king he must marry a dwarrowdam, a lady of noble birth; diplomacy does not allow a human to sit on the queen's throne or let an hybrid inherit the crown" his face became sympathetic, almost paternal "think, dear (y/n), you love Thorin however you don't need to risk your life for your feelings to be returned".

By now with such crude words spilled out from Gandalf's mouth, (y/n) was already biting the inside of her cheek as helding the fat tears that yearned to fall from her eyes.

"I don't care about my feelings! If he lives, I'll go happily into the arms of death!" she exclaimed with a broken voice, "he has been one of my greatest wishes! I am willing to fulfill it at all cost!"

The dwarves found themselves drinking huge mugs of ale that accompanied the stories and jokes that were told. The atmosphere down there was happy, even Thorin kept a tiny curve in his lips that, unfortunately, fell as soon as his eyes were fixed on the person who was coming down the distant stairs in a hurry.  The dwarf King distinguished crystal drops sliding in her face. She was crying. Why was she crying? Why was her vivacity reduced to ashes? At no time in the five months that they had been sharing Thorin had seen her discouraged like that.

Without even thinking about it Thorin apologized and got up following (y/n), who had left the tavern. He didn't just go with her out of curiosity, night was falling, it was dangerous for her to be defenseless outside but he would never admit it out loud, not yet at least.

Thorin found her curled up in the barn where the ponies rested, her arms hugging her legs that kept her face hidden. He approached carefully as she quietly sobbed. Was a matter of time when Thorin felt his throat go dry as he discovered how much he hated seeing her so blue.

"(Y/n)...? " he called soft.

When he didn't obtain an answer, he preferred to take a seat next to her. Thorin gently dropped his hand on her back for support. There he stood by his side, feeling unable to formulate a word as he heard the heartbroken whimpers that made him wonder what was the reason for such sadness. And finally, after half an hour she calmed down, straightened her back and proceeded to lean against the wall of wood; her expressionless face was soaked, eyelids as reddish as her nose, yet the pained glow reflected from her orbs was the last straw for Thorin's patience.

"Who made you cry?"  he asked demandly.

"Myself," (y/n) said in a whisper "Thorin, please answer this with honesty. If you were aware that your life is shortened with each step taken ... and if you have in your hands the possibility of preventing it, would you do it? Would you try to save yourself?"

What kind of question was that?

Upon analyzing his words, Thorin was clearly desconcert.

"What are you talking about (y/n)? Is your life in danger?" 

 "Answer my question, please" she turned her face bathed in anxiety, "would you save yourself even if it means paying with what you love the most?"

"I wouldn't, living without what I love the most would be a punishment worse than death. Tell me now, what is wrong with you? Are you ill? Should I call Óin?"

(Y/n) smiled without grace, but such action was interpreted by the dwarf as the synonym of a goodbye. A bad feeling took hold of his stomach that churned at the simple idea of ​​losing her, because Mahal, it was clear than water how much Thorin appreciated her. She was his One! His true love, and if she had fallen from another world right into his arms it was because she was predestined for no one but him; she was his by right.

"Since the first time I met you in my world you became my greatest admiration, Thorin, and for that reason I would follow you further to Mandos' halls"

 "Don't say that, (y/n), I haven't …"

"I'm sorry" she interrupted getting up and wiping another fallen tear, "keep in mind that no matter how difficult the circumstances are, I will be by your side until ... until my visit to these lands is over, I promise you."

Her words were never erased from Thorin's memory.

On Raven Hill there was no noise except for the cries of a King crying disconsolately the name of his One. She was slowly perishing in his arms. The dwarf did not cry easily since his heart was made of stone, however his hardness was cracking, cracking to release the unbearable pain that he suffered when he saw that life abandoning the human's eyes.

Why? he wondered, why had she taken her place? Why had she given her life in exchange for his?

Minutes before this heartbreaking scene, a battle had unfolded between Thorin Oakenshield and Azog the defiler. The King had no other thought than defeating the orc. At no time crossed through his mind the thought of (t/n) leaving the throne room where he had demanded her to wait for his return until the war was over. Thorin thought she had listened to him, but now the misfortune of her disobedience was manifested by a reddish thread of blood that trickled from between her lips and ran down her chin, staining her shirt more than it had already caused the deep wound on her abdomen.

"Thorin ... don't cry ..." she spoke in low whispers.

"Why have you broken your word? I asked you to stay on the throne where you'd have been protected, why have you taken death for me?! You shouldn't have ...!"  Thorin broke into sobs, "you can't abandon me, don't do it, I implore you to stay with me"

"Don't you remember what I told you? I would go by your side further to Mandos' halls. I have come to Middle Earth with a purpose that I have already fulfilled, my visit is over" she smiled weakly. "I knew your destiny. Many times I begged in my world for being able to change it and give you the happiness of enjoying your effort to recover Erebor. My wish was listened, and…. " a fit of coughing interrupted her. Each second passed her voice was hard to hear" I will leave happy knowing that you can be King, Thorin…"

The dwarf never imagined that she would actually follow him to Raven Hill, that (y/n) would wait hidden in the mist and debris to impose her goal. He didn't see her coming when she leapt to get between the sharp edge that was pointing against his torso. He even had a chance to push her away from him.

"How could you be so cruel to yourself? You didn't owe me anything! Then why did you give your life for me ?! Why did you do it ?!"

 "Because ..." her eyes narrowed, already becoming opaque, "I have admired you since I read your noble feat in a book, because I fell in love as an innocent little girl night after night, the naive illusions of meeting my hero one day in person were just lovely…." she was about to die "because I grew up adoring you and… I have loved you since the first moment I met you… Tho… rin… " her voice finally trailed off.

Her eyes finally got closed. She did not speak any more.

" (Y/n) ....? (Y/n) wake up, please open your eyes givashel, wake up, open your eyes!" cried the king in despair "please come back to me! You cannot abandon me!"

The cries returned, Thorin clung to the human's body as if he wished with all his soul to become one with her. His tears fell without frenzy, drenching the face that would have loved with such devotion if fate had not unjustly taken her away from his embrace. At that moment Thorin felt alone again as when he lost his father and grandfather during the Battle of Azanulbizar. This time Fili, Kili and (y/n) joined the memories that only came to life in his head; the three partners in shenanigans slipped from his hands like souls he could never caress or see.

In war there is no victory when lives as loved as those of your family have been lost.

#thorin x you #Thorin #hobbit #thorin x reader #Sad #Death #hobbit fandom #hobbit x reader

[rattyoakenbitch]

The Hobbit: In My Feelings || Thorin x Elf Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of death sadness.

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x (short) Elf Reader

Note: OKAY, I’M SORRY IF THIS SOUNDS STUPID BUT I HAD TO. Basically, Gandalf & Galadriel did the nasty, resulting in a child, which is you. I don’t know if Elves and Wizards can.. you know, but I don’t care. I ship Gandalf & Galadriel wayyy too much and they’d be the coolest parents. Also, I was listening to Lana Del Rey’s “In My Feelings”, which just gave me this sad and sort of angry vibe, so I thought I’d make an imagine sort of releasing all that anger. I don’t know if that made any sense. 

Summary: Thorin Oakenshield, King Under The Mountain, your One, was taken over by dragon sickness. When Bilbo shares a little secret about having the Arkenstone in his possession, you take his side, angering Thorin. 

“It’s a trick! The Arkenstone is here in this mountain!” Thorin’s voice boomed. The king looked down intently at the bargeman, who was tossing the stone up and catching it as if it were a paper ball, only infuriating him more.

“It’s no trick. I gave it to them.” You close your eyes as you hear Bilbo’s words. You both kept the stone a secret, but now you were on edge, thinking about Thorin’s reaction. You were certain he would just about blow up. Thorin slowly turned around, staring Bilbo down, his face unreadable. 

“You?”

“I took it as my fourteenth share,” the hobbit said sheepishly.

“You would steal from me?” Thorin spoke lowly, sending shivers down your spine. “Steal from you? No, no. I may be a burglar, but I like to think I’m an honest one.” Thorin started to approach him, causing more anxiety and pressure to build up inside of you. “I’m willing to let it stand against my claim.”

“Your claim? You have no claim over me, you miserable rat!” Before Thorin could get a hold of Bilbo, you stopped him abruptly, standing in front of the frightened hobbit.

“Thorin, stop. It’s my fault, too.” He still had a hateful look on his face, but his eyes softened as he realized it was you, his One. He processed the words you had just spoke, and furrowed his brows together.

“What are you talking about?”

“Bilbo came to me and told me about the Arkenstone.. I knew he had it since we reclaimed the mountain..”  The tension in the air was high, and it was silent, besides the heavy breathing and the thumping in your chest.

“You..? Out of all people, why you?” He asked, seemingly hurt.

“Can’t you see, Thorin? You’ve become someone else. Ever since we had come to Erebor, all you’ve been talking about was the Arkenstone! Even daring to doubt the loyalty of your own fucking kin! As much as you hate to admit it, you have become your grandfather!” He took a step forward, staring you down like a lion would stalk its prey. But you stood your ground. You knew Thorin would never dare harm you.  “Thorin, we only want what’s best for you.. The stone has turned you into a monster. The dwarf that I met and loved in Rivendell would never dare to doubt his family, nor his friend,” you whispered, tears falling from your eyes. You searched his, looking for any sense of love or remorse. There was nothing in his deep blue eyes. It was empty, only full with greed. Within a second, you were held over the wall by your neck and collar, choking as Thorin’s grip got tighter. 

“Thorin, no!” The Company protested, attempting to stop Thorin. But he shoved them back, keeping you in his grasp. 

“Do not speak to me of love and loyalty, you traitor,” he spat, face twisting up in anger. It was at that moment that you knew Thorin was long gone. He was lost to the sickness, and you were devoid of any solutions to bring him back. You started to feel your chest tighten, and your head grow light. You gave up your struggle, and let yourself die by the hands of your lover. 

“If you do not like my daughter, hand her back to me!” A voice suddenly rang out. You realized it was the voice of your father, who you have not heard from since departing from Rivendell. “You are not making such a splendid figure as King Under the Mountain, are you, Thorin Oakenshield?”  At that, you were carelessly tossed aside back on the wall, gasping for air.  Fili & Kili helped you up, while Bofur assisted Bilbo down the wall.

“I am so sorry,” you cried to them. They simply shushed you by giving you a tight hug.

“Go, now. Save yourself,” Kili said. 

“May we meet again, someday, somehow,” you say last, before following Bilbo down the rope. Once you reached the bottom, you took one more glance at the king, your former love, before hurrying to Dale.

***

Thorin’s POV

I walked into the room where The Company was gathered, upset expressions on their faces. Soon as Kili noticed my presence, he stood up to approach me. “I will not hide behind walls of stone, while others fight our battle for us!” He vented, “It is not in my blood, Thorin.”

“No,” I said calmly. “It is not. We are Sons of Durin. And Durin’s Folk do not flee from a fight.” We hold each other in a short embrace, before I turn to the rest of The Company, who watched with anticipation. “I have no right to ask this of any of you, but will you follow me, one last time?” They all stood up and gripped their weapons, nodding their heads. I scan the room, looking for any signs of Y/N.

“Where is she?” I ask, “Where is my One? Where is Y/N?” Fili looks at the ground with a saddened face before answering. “She left with Bilbo over the wall. Must have fled to Dale or left completely.”

What have I done?

*** You took a seat by the steps of a ruined house, completely spaced out, trying to process what just took place. You had reclaimed Erebor, but for what? To lose your friends. More importantly, the one you were going to wed. But what were you thinking? An elf and a dwarf would never work. They had a big history of being hateful towards one another, and neither families would approve of such marriage, You knew Thorin would be taken by the sickness, but tried to shut out the fact and live an unrealistic fantasy. Because all good things come to an end. Right?

Hours passed since the battle started. Elves, dwarves, men, orcs. You didn’t fight, though. You stayed seated by the abandoned house, ignoring the death and screams around you. As much as you wanted to go back to rejoin The Company, Thorin would probably kill you. He already tried to. Your only love. Because of a stupid stone.

“Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Bilbo called, snapping you out of your daze. You look up at the little hobbit who was running towards you. “Thorin, Kili, Fili, and Dwalin are going to Ravenhill! It’s a trap! We have to warn them!”

You wanted to say “why”? and “let them die”, but as much as you were pained and angry, you knew you couldn’t live with yourself, knowing you left your friends to their death.

“Let’s go.”

You & Bilbo made it to Ravenhill, successfully keeping out of sight from any enemies. But when you made it to the top, it was empty. No dwarves in sight, nor any orcs. You frantically searched the area for any signs of them. When at last, you found all four of them.

“Wait!” Bilbo shouted, instantly making their heads dart your direction. When Thorin’s eyes found yours, he practically ran over to you. “Y/N, I--” You collided the back of your hand with his face, stopping him from finishing his sentence. But shortly after, before he could react, you pulled him into a passionate kiss, as if to say sorry. “Okay, I might have deserved that,” he admitted, pulling away. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I did not see.”

“I love you, Thorin. And I will fight by your side, no matter the circumstance.”

Bilbo awkwardly coughed. “Okay, lovebirds. I hate to break up the cute reuniting kissy moment, but Azog has another army attacking from the north! This watch tower will be surrounded!”

AHHH I was in a rush making this and wasn’t sure if I should continue or just end it here. LMK! 

#thorin oakenshield #thorin fanfiction #thorin the dwarf #thorin imagine #king thorin #thorin oneshot #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit angst #thorin angst

[acelucky]

Sailing into the Past

Pairing: Bilbo x Thorin  Warnings:  A little angst   Word Count: 2,887

Summary: Before sailing into the West, Bilbo has some time to reflect in Rivendell. His thoughts are often with one particular Dwarf, but when Pippin questions him on how his adventure changes him, memories and emotions come flooding in and Bilbo hopes on this new adventure he will be reunited with his love.

I loved writing this (although it made me a little sad) I wrote it as part of my work for NaNoWriMo 2018. Usually my Hobbit/lord of the rings material ends up 'Mature/Explicit' so I was happy with it!

I took a few liberties with story-line/plot points etc to make this fit, but I think it works okay!

Merry and Pippin stood side by side, looking into the mirror, studying their own reflections. Whilst only a short period of time had passed when considering the life span of hobbits since setting out from The Shire, they both appeared weathered and years older than they were. Decades even Pippin would say, though Frodo would laugh and accuse Pippin of exaggerating as he often did.

“You don’t suppose things can go back to how they were before, do you Merry?”

Merry turned to his friend, “No Pippin, I think that ship has long since sailed.”

Pippin smiled a sorrowful smile, “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“But dear friend, we’re alive and can enjoy all the food, ale and smoking our hearts desire,” he nudged Pippin who laughed in response and put his arm around the other.

“Yes, that is what I can live for.”

“I wonder will our lives ever go back to how they were before?” Pippin asked, a little amount of trepidation evident in the way he spoke.

Merry searched his face in the mirror, he wanted to lie to Pippin, to offer some release from the worry that plagued him, but felt unable to, “No, not entirely at least, but that isn’t a bad thing.”

Pippin nodded, he didn’t need to say anything further. Since returning to The Shire from their adventure life had indeed been different. Some folk acted the same as if they’d never been away, others as if they’d seen a ghost. But it was hard to go about one’s gardening or cooking in quite the same way as they had before. They both thought of Boromir often, to loose someone so dear to them and have to continue without them was a struggle only the other knew.

Now they were back in Rivendell, Gandalf had invited the four hobbits along to say goodbye to Bilbo as well as himself, Elrond and Galadriel. Their small merry party was now a sorrowful one, though they did not regret coming on one last little adventure.

They both turned from the mirror and walked out onto the balcony.

“I don’t think we’ll ever see anywhere as beautiful as this,” Merry sighed as he admired the view and pulled out his pipe.

Pippin, ever curious, ever the innocent looked up at Merry, “But what about The Shire.”

Merry took a puff on his pipe and patted Pippin on the shoulder, “Yes Pippin, I think home might beat this.”

Bilbo was sat close to them on the edge of the balcony with his eyes closed on a bench, his hands were on his walking stick. He was smiling, clearly enjoying the peace the Elven realm had to offer.

Merry and Pippin approached carefully, afraid to scare the much older hobbit and wanting to remain respectful as they did so. They sat on a bench next to him, Bilbo’s nose twitched as he sensed their presence.

“Hello my dear boys.”

Bilbo opened his eyes and smiled fondly at the hobbits, “Care to join me for a smoke?” They both nodded in agreement and the three of them sat staring out at the waterfall in silence for a moment as they smoked.

“Bilbo,” As Pippin spoke Merry shot him a warning look.

“Yes?” Bilbo sounded frail as he spoke.

“You’ve been on a great adventure yourself, how did it change you? Did you lose people too?”

“Ahhh dear boy,” there was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke that seemed to the others like it might be tears.

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped a line,” Pippin jumped off the bench.

“Not at all, it changes you, yes, how could it not?” Bilbo spoke slowly, he himself shuffled forward on the bench and then hobbled over to the ledge. “Ahh I remember the first time I came here, I never thought I would see something so beautiful and was sure I would never see something as beautiful again…”

“And did you?” Merry asked.

“No, I saw a great many wonders, beauty beyond compare and yet, nothing came close to this.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his hands rested on the marble, there was a sorrow in his voice of the likes the hobbits had not heard before.

“And loss,” He turned to them, “Yes, I know all about loss.” He looked beyond them, deep in thought, caught up in his memory of things that had been, things that were and the memories he would never know.

He thought of Thorin Oakenshield, his bronzed skin, the way he imagined he would have looked working in a kiln. He thought of the last time he saw him, of the party tree that grew back in Hobbiton.

Tears welled in Bilbo’s eyes as he remembered the promised they had made to one another in the shadows, how he knew he had softened the dwarf’s heart. They had kissed just once, cuddled into one another, the nights were long and cold, dangerous too. So no one could have questioned how close they were to each other or blamed them for that closeness. The kiss had been the kindest he had ever known, soft, loving, Thorin’s beard scratched against his smooth skin. Bilbo would have done anything in that moment to have felt it once more. He would have forsaken his own life had it meant he could have spent a single other evening with him.

His thoughts then went to Kili and Fili, two brave young souls who were taken from the world far too young. Was that the price of war? The price of power, such a loss, such a pity. He felt himself shake at the mere thought of their faces, the smell, the way they’d braided one another’s hair. It felt like a lifetime ago that he had fed an apple to Bill the pony and talked nonsense to him at night. That he had taken a bowl of Bombur’s fabulous stew to the two Princes, and they had watched the trolls. He thought of the dwarf spit above the fire, of Smaug, a dragon, a hobbit facing off a dragon! Fancy that! He thought of the splendour of Elven halls and Dwarven halls, of Thranduil riding a great, silver elk.

He thought of all of the dwarves, how long it had been since he had seen their faces. Gandalf had informed him of the deaths of Balin and Ori, his heart had broken then. He had gone a life time believing he couldn’t have stood any further grieve, but the ring had protected him from all that pain, shielded him from the real world.

“Bilbo?”

Bilbo opened his eyes and saw Merry and Pippin stood either side of him, a hand gently on each of his arms.

Bilbo shed a tear, “Sorry lads, didn’t mean to get lost in my thoughts, that adventure I went on. I told the story so well to all the children, I told them of all the fun, excitement, all the good bits. But ahhh the bits I missed out, the things I always tried to protect others from. Yes, dear boys, I know all about loss, what it is like to lose some of your closest, dearest friends, to lose the person you hold most dearest in the world.”

“We’re sorry Bilbo.”

“Ahhh it was a lifetime ago, and now I prepare to sail into the Grey Havens, maybe perhaps there I will finally find peace and be able to close this chapter of my life.”

“How do you deal with it?”

Merry shot Pippin another warning glance, “The grief I mean, how do you live with it?”

Bilbo shuffled a little on the spot and then smiled fondly, “By holding onto the memories, by holding onto those you love, by holding onto one another. Nothing lasts forever, everything comes to pass in the end and that my dears is a great comfort to me. You get through it because you must, you survive because instinct tells you to and because others need you. For the most part of my older life I was somewhat of a recluse, true, I wasn’t overly fond of others at times and loved my books a little too much, just like when I was young. But… three things got me through.”

Merry and Pippin hung on his every word, expecting the answer to their woes to fall from his lips.

“Firstly, I watched the oak tree grow, I planted that acorn when I got back from my adventure and every year it grew little by little. That has been one of my greatest joys and sources of comfort, watching something grow which I had given birth to in a sense. Secondly, Frodo, my dear nephew, watching him grow, telling him and all the other children of my adventures, that was another source of comfort to me. Thirdly, my book, writing about my adventures and especially reliving the best bits, that gave me a great comfort.”

Bilbo started to walk, “Come with me, let us go speak with Elrond and he shall console you further, as once he did to me.”

The two hobbits walked alongside Bilbo, helping him to walk, in his old age he struggled so they took an arm each and steadied him.

“Bilbo there you are!” Frodo’s optimistic voice called across.

“Ahhh come join us on our walk my dear boys.”

Frodo and Sam joined the others, the five hobbits happily walking in silence for some time, just happy to be in one another’s company and listen to the sound of the running river and birds high in the trees.

“There you are,” Gandalf’s voice boomed across at them, there was no anger in his voice however, he just seemed tired now and older than before. He looked with fondest at the oldest hobbit, tilted his head to the side and smiled, “Come Bilbo, it is time.”

Bilbo nodded in agreement, his hand reaching out for Gandalf’s. They followed him to a carriage, there were just a few ready to sail out to the final boat.

As he sat in the carriage he pulled his blanket up around him, it was the same blanket he and Thorin had used all those moons ago. He knew there was no way he could still smell the great Dwarven King and yet he would still pull it up to his nose and inhale deeply. For it made him feel safe.

His only hopes from life now were that he could sleep forever and in his dreams be reunited with his only love. The thought of seeing Thorin again, of his warm embrace, the smile he had, stroking his hair, made him weep.

He hoped that in the next world he would appear in the great halls under the lonely mountain, there would be tables covered in food and wine, glowing candles and the riches were not that of silver nor gold, but of friendship and love. The kind that warmed your heart to your belly and your very soul.

“Bilbo, you have changed me,” Thorin’s words echoed in Bilbo’s mind. He had to shake his head as if trying to get rid of them, it wasn’t a bad memory, just painful and he didn’t want the other hobbits to see him sad.

Bilbo felt like nothing in Thorin’s arms, weightless, as a feather carried by a great, rapid current. Thorin was the storm that raged and Bilbo was the calm ocean after a storm.

“If we make it out of this alive, I will smother you with riches beyond your wildest dreams.”

Bilbo had shaken his head to this, “No, Thorin, I don’t want riches of that nature, I only want you,” he wrinkled his nose, “I’ve spent my whole life wondering about love, whether I would ever find it or not. I always thought I was a little strange, everyone else seemed so happy, crazy in love even…. and yet there were many pretty hobbits, beautiful women, I enjoyed to look at them, they were pleasing on the eye you see, the same way a well arranged garden is or a warm hearth. I loved many women, but not in the way you read about in story books… I thought I would never find love, but you, the moment I saw you back in Bag End I just, anything that was frozen inside me was instantly melted.”

Thorin had stroked his hair, “I cannot imagine you with a frozen heart at all.”

Bilbo nodded, “It’s true you know.”

Thorin chuckled, “No, I won’t have it, not my Bilbo,” he leant forward and rubbed his nose against Bilbo’s.

They had spent one night laid by one another’s side, when the others weren’t looking they would steal glances at one another, small smiles, the kind of facial expression that others could easily miss. There was a point when Bilbo thought Fili and Kili might have guessed, they noticed the looks between their Uncle and the hobbit and had given one another knowing glances before whispering away from the others so no one else could hear.

The day at Erebor when Thorin ordered the others to take Bilbo’s life for stealing the Arkenstone had nearly broken Bilbo’s heart. Even now, after all of these years when he thought back on it he felt a great sorrow that in the end even his love wasn’t quite enough to break the terrible spell that had taken ahold of his love.

The way Thorin’s voice had changed, the anger in it, the sound of portrayal. Bilbo had begged, had wished that Thorin would see he had made the choices he had to protect the dwarf, for Thorin was behaving as no good King would. Bilbo had done it to save him, he believed that in his dying moments realisation had washed over Thorin and he knew this to be true.

The moment Thorin’s eyes had closed, Bilbo wished the world could have sucked him up, taken him with him. A world without that adventure, without the happy ending that Thorin had promised him, barely seemed like a life he wanted to live.

But then there was Gandalf, Gandalf had given him the strength he needed to return him and continue with his life, to write down his tale so that Thorin, Fili and Kili would live in forever, so that their story would pass into the halls of fame and through the valley of Kings.

Bilbo’s thoughts kept him company during the short journey to the shoreline. Dismounting from the carriage, Bilbo stared at Frodo, Samwise, Merry and Pippin, he wondered how they felt when they returned home for the first time. Did their homes seem as empty as his had? Did material possessions now seem worthless to them as they had to him? He pitied them in a way and in anther he felt glad, they had their wholes lives ahead of them and plenty of joy to come, more adventures, love, they would have the chance to move on from whatever terrors they had seen.

When he arrived in the white harbour he had the same reaction he had had when he saw both Rivendell and Erebor for the first time, he was blown away by it’s beauty. The ship that was awaiting for him was a gorgeous, carved, elven ship. Galadriel, Celeborn and Elrond were waiting for him with open arms.

He turned back to the hobbits one last time and gave them a frail hug, “So how has home been?”

They smiled fondly at him, with tears in their eyes, “It has changed and we are not the same, but just as you said, the memories of one another and each other’s love, that is what keeps us going,” Pippin said as he hugged Bilbo farewell.

Gandalf looked at Bilbo with a melancholy look, “Go on now my dear friend, let us sail together.”

“Yes I quite think I am ready for another adventure.”

Gandalf gave Frodo a knowing look and bowed, “Frodo, it is time.”

There was unexpected sorrow then, Merry, Pippin and Samwise wept for having to say goodbye to their dearest friend. But in their hearts they had always known this was what lay ahead in their future, that for them life may return to what was before or at least as close as it could. That while they were changed, there was a chance for them to live a normal, though wiser and richer life. But for Frodo, since Weathertop there could be no going back, not really. So in the end, they made their peace for they knew it was right.

Bilbo took Frodo’s hand in his own after the younger hobbit had said his goodbyes and turned to the elves. Walking slowly up to them, in his mind he heard Galadriel talk to him secretly, “The great thing about sailing into the West, is you never know who might be waiting for you when you get there.”

As Bilbo stepped onto the ship he could swear he heard a voice, “Come home to me Bilbo, come home, I am waiting, the hearth is hot, there is more mead than myself or my nephews could ever manage to drink and there is food fit for a hero.”

#Bilbo Baggins #thorin oakenshield #bagginsheild #merry brandybuck #pippin took #Gandalf #Frodo Baggins #samwise gamgee #the hobbit #lotr #tolkien #middle earth #fanfic #mine #hurt/comfort #angst #romance #my writing #peregrine took #fluff #fanfiction

[the-ticklish-hobbit]

Examine the wounds

A/N: Oops, this fic turned out different than i had planned. but i hope some of you enjoy it anyway. I just love adorable Durin family moments... <3 

Fili was sad.

Ever since they had started the quest for Erebor, him and his brother had been trying nonstop to prove themselves to their uncle. But Thorin was more shut off than he had ever been in their lives in the Blue Mountains. He didn’t have any time for more than a nod or a short smile. 

Fili was grown up enough to not take Thorin’s behaviour personally. Still, he missed the time they used to spend alone to talk or spar. He was in dire need of his uncle’s fatherly affection. Yet, he was way too proud to ask for it and he didn’t want to seem childish and egoistic when the quest at hand was basically Thorin’s life. He could understand why his uncle was constantly distracted and stressed out. His role as king was evolving. To Fili it seemed as if Thorin was trying to prove himself just as much as he himself did. A lot had been thrust upon their shoulders and neither of them wanted to give under the weight.

A moment of peace would do both of them good. 

“What’s up with you?” A voice next to the young heir of Durin suddenly asked. It belonged to Bilbo, their burglar, one too observant to miss Fili’s sadness. He was sitting next to him by the fire and he must have been watching him stare into the flames, not touching his food. A worried creak was visible between Bilbo’s eyebrows. “You have been awfully quiet.” 

Fili shifted slightly, trying to seem less moody by straightening out his back. “I’m fine.” 

The way Fili said these two words was enough to raise some of the dwarfs’ attention. Especially Thorin’s interest shifted completely from his bowl of food to Fili’s darkened face. His bright blue eyes were now fixed on his eldest nephew. Kili, who was sitting on Bilbo’s other side leaned over to get a look at his brother’s face. The youngest of Thorin’s nephew was very bad at hiding any emotions and that wasn’t any different now. Fili’s appearance made his eyes grew wider.

“Right.” Bilbo huffed, not convinced at all. He put his bowl out of harm’s way - meaning out of Kili’s kicking range - and put his hands on his knees, thoughtfully eyeing the young dwarf prince. He had grown very fond of him as he had of every single one of the dwarfs, but Fili was lovely in a way not many seemed to recognize. He had a nack for putting everybody else first. He hung back, he lasted and endured and stayed silent when everybody else was moaning, even found up lifting words in such situations. He was a lot like Thorin, probably was aiming at exactly that, and did so not like being the center of attention. 

Bilbo had to smile now that Fili was once again brushing off any concerns about himself and took a glance at Thorin to see if he was noticing any of it. His smile grew even fonder when he saw Thorin mimick the creak of worry that could be found on the hobbit’s face. But he was aware that Thorin wasn’t much for showing affection in front of the entire company. He would not give his nephew a hug now that everyone was still awake and staring. It was against his role as leader and Bilbo though that Thorin might have been afraid of losing his self-control in an act of softness. He could imagine that there was a huge part of Thorin that didn’t want to keep going, that wanted to protect his family and kin more than retrieve his home. And if he went to comfort Fili that part might just take over. 

Bilbo understood this and that’s why he took matters in his own hands. With a smile he turned his upper-body a bit more in Fili’s direction. 

“You know what would be nice now?” Bilbo’s chest tightened when Fili gave him a questioning look. He looked so innocent and tired. “A song. Are you in the mood to give us one?” 

Fili looked surprised for a second, then he looked around insecurely. He thought of his mother and of all the songs she had taught him in his dwarfling days. The memory of her made him only sadder and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sing without starting to cry. And he absolutely did not want to cry in front of everyone. He gulped and gave Bilbo a weak smile. “Maybe another time, Master Baggins.” 

Bilbo sighed quietly and exchanged yet another look with Thorin whose creak of worry deepened. “Fili!” 

Fili looked up with wide eyes, when Thorin called his name. 

Thorin noticed and spoke softer when he raised his voice again. “If you are injured or any of the like, you need to tell us.” 

Fili huffed and shrugged Thorin’s words off, but Bilbo saw just how much they meant to him. “I’m not hurt, really. Please, everybody, don’t look at me like that.” 

Kili and Dwalin chuckled softly and Bilbo couldn’t keep a grin off his face either as Fili blushed uncomfortably at the attention. 

“I don’t believe him.” Balin said mock seriously. He smiled playfully and gave Kili a meaningful look. “Better go check on him. What if he’s hurt right under his arm where we can’t see?” 

Fili’s eyes widened at that and he opened his mouth in shock. “Balin!! That’s- that’s treason!!” 

Before Bilbo had a chance to understand what was going on, KIli had already leaped over him with a loud triumphant laugh and tackled his brother to the ground. Fili was trying to muffle his sounds of joy and to push his brother off, but Kili was as always merciless and grappled with his brother’s hands until there was an opening under Fili’s left arm. That’s when he used his free hand to dive in and, Bilbo huffed in surprise, tickle his brother’s armpit. Fili cursed loudly and threw his head back, fighting the urge to laugh, but he couldn’t hold it in and in mere seconds he bursted, letting out a melodious stream of hysterical laughter. 

“Nooooo!!! KILI!!! Nohohoot thahahat!! PLEASE STOP!! Ahahanywhere but thehehere!!!” Fili giggled and tried to protect his utterly ticklish underarms without success. His brother was obviously not tickling him for the first time and it seemed to be a well known secret that Fili was terribly ticklish in his armpits. He couldn’t get away from the mean attack. 

Bilbo chuckled along as did everybody else. It seemed to be a very good way to cheer Fili up. Balin watched the tickle fight with fond eyes. Bilbo could imagine very well how two dwarflings used to sit in a chamber with the old dwarf for history lessons, neither of them listening, too eager to play and tease each other. The moment must have reminded Balin of the previous days. 

The best reaction came from Thorin though. For a while he just sat and watched his two nephews, a small smile on his features. Then he shook his head - probably about himself - and got off his spot by the fire. He stomped over to the pile on the ground and stopped next to them. “Seems like you found a sensitive spot, Kili. I’ll take care of it. You keep searching for more.”

Kili’s astounded face was enough proof for Bilbo that Thorin didn’t join in tickle fights very often. But the pure joy that replaced the astonishment was probably already enough affirmation for Thorin. He smirked when Fili’s laughter turned more hysterical at the sight of him.

“OH NO! NOHO!! I’M NOT HURT!! NO NEED TO CHEHECK! PLEHEHEASE!!” Fili squealed when Thorin grabbed his wrists to pull his arms away from his body. It was so adorable and funny that Thorin started to laugh. It worked like magic. Suddenly everyone relaxed, everyone was cheerful and even Gandalf joined in the laughter. Thorin’s laughter was the best medicine against gloomy days. That started a stream of thoughts in Bilbo’s head. A mischievous look appeared on his face and he slowly got up off his spot by the fire. 

Thorin was currently examining Fili’s exposed left armpit, forcing his nephew to drum his head against the ground from laughing so hard. Kili was worsening the ticklish effect by squeezing his brother’s kneecaps, making him kick out helplessly. 

“Oh no, uncle. He’s crying. Has to be really bad.” Kili teased and let out a harsh breath when Fili managed to knee him in the stomach for that. 

“STAHAHAP!!! PLEEHHEEASE!! I’VE HAD ENOUGH! SERIOUSLYYY AHAHHAHAHA HHEHHEELP MEHEHE!!” Fili was getting hoarse from laughing so much and tried to twist out of Thorin’s grip which merely led to another tickle attack under his left arm. Thorin was tickling him with the fondest expression on his face. It was a sign of affection. A rare one. Bilbo didn’t mean to interrupt but he was sure that a good revenge on their uncle didn’t count as such.

“Time to check on you, Thorin Oakenshield!” The hobbit yelled before diving his hands into Thorin’s armpits from behind. The leader of the company choked on a squeal and immediately threw himself off of Fili. Bilbo could barely follow his motions, but his hands got caught in Thorin’s armpits which led to the two of them tumbling over the grass together. When they halted Bilbo was on top of the dwarf and breathing heavily. They both had to laugh and that was a serious relief for Bilbo. Thorin seemed to be in the best of moods. 

“That wasn’t fair.” He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “A stab in the back.” 

Bilbo shivered when Thorin’s hand traced his leg - accidentally or not, he never found out. All he knew was that it felt good, really good. 

“I believe the worst is yet to come.” Bilbo grinned when he heard Kili and Fili running over yelling battle cries. 

Thorin shook his head fondly and seemed to accept his fate. He motioned for Bilbo to save himself. Bilbo scrambled off of him just in time to not get crushed underneath Fili who was seeking revenge with vigor.

“Oh noo! The plague!!” Thorin yelled exasperatedly, before he caught Kili in his arms, holding him down on his chest and tickling everywhere he could reach. “How’s that for you, huh you traitor?”Kili was kicking and laughing so hard that Bilbo had to laugh as well. Thorin couldn’t remain in the stronger position for long. When Fili sat up on his stomach and scribbled all over Thorin’s midsection with ten fingers, he had to give it up. He was very ticklish and Kili and Fili managed to hit just the right spots to make him wheeze with laughter and eventually surrender under hysterical giggles. 

A moment of peace had been direly needed. Not only by Fili. 

#tickling #Ticklish!fili #ticklish!thorin #ticklish!kili #slight bagginshield #this fanfic turned into a direction i did not expect #playful #fluff #tickle fic #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #it's very weird #but have a treat

[the-jade-cross]

Over the Mountains - Chapter 5

When Sepha awoke, she found both Fili and Kili sitting on either side of her, watching her protectively.

"Hey nerds," she whispered.

"You're awake!" they cried happily.

Sepha smiled and gripped their hands, "Can you help me sit up?"

Both at once jumped forward and gently helped her to a sitting position. She groaned but when she was up straight, she felt better, "How long was I out?"

"You came in and out in bursts," Kili replied. "You were out till Eagle Rock and then you woke up when Oin put stuff on your side, then you were out for a good full day till we got here, then after the stitchings you have been out for almost nine hours."

"Where is everyone else?" Sepha inquired, slowly rising to her feet.

Fili wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her, "They're greeting Beorn."

"Uh oh," Sepha sighed, "I should go help Gandalf before he gets them all eaten."

Before the two could object, the girl had limped towards the door. Beorn had been taking in the sight of the dwarves and was glaring, not looking very friendly.

"Why should I let dwarves here?" he spat.

"It's alright, they're friends," Sepha said weakly.

All eyes snapped around to look at her and all the dwarves gasped her name. Sepha realized that THorin was the closest to her, about three feet away and his blue eyes were staring at her with a look she had never seen before but it made her heart flutter.

"Persephone," Beorn said happily, dropping his axe and approaching her, "What happened to you?"

"Oh just a little scratch," Sepha assured him.

The large man knelt down in front of her so that he was eye level with her, "A little scratch? Your screams last night spoke otherwise. I'm glad you're here. I will not let you leave till you're healed."

"And we're not planning on leaving till she heals," Oin said.

Sepha smiled at him as the other dwarves nodded in agreement.

Beorn sighed and looked at the girls, "They're your friends?"

Sepha nodded and smiled. Beorn didn't seem to believe her, "All of them?"

Sepha's eyes lifted and green met blue as she looked at THorin. She could see the hurt in his eyes and she knew he was upset. She could see the fear, concern and sorrow for what had happened. She smiled sweetly and nodded.

"All of them."

Beorn nodded and led the girl inside, the dwarves following. She completely missed the shocked face cross THorin's face while Balin and Dwalin exchanged knowing smirks.

LATER

"So you are the one they call Oakenshield?" BEorn asked. "Tell me. Why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"

"You know of Azog?" THorin asked. "how?"

"My people were the first to live in the mountains," Beorn replied. "Before the orcs came down from the north. the Defiler killed most of my family. But some he enslaved. Not for work you understand but for sport. Caging skin changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."

Thorin felt a cold hand clutch his heart as he saw Sepha's eyes pool with tears at those words. He saw Fili wrap an arm around her shoulders and he was glad his nephew was brave enough to comfort her when he was too cowardly to even talk to her.

"There are others like you?" Bilbo asked. "I mean... other than Sepha?"

"Once there were many," Beorn replied.

"And now?" Bilbo asked.

"Now there are only two," Beorn replied.

There was a dreadful silence during which all eyes turned to Sepha. The girl couldn't take it anymore and getting up from her chair, she left the room. Fili and Kili called her name but she ignored them, stepping outside.

"What did I say?" Bilbo whispered.

"It wasn't you halfling," Beorn replied. "I would have still been a prisoner of Azog if Persephone hadn't rescued me. But while she saved me, she watched a skin changer killed.... the last... except for the two of us. Persephone has many scars, very few of them are scars of the body. She has carried them for a long time and no one has helped her lift them yet."

After coming to an agreement with Beorn (they would leave once Persephone was healed and he would give them ponies), Thorin left the house to go in search of the girl.

He found her in the back, standing near the fence, petting the ponies. The horses seemed glad to see her and he could tell she looked happy but her shoulders were slumped.

"Hey," he whispered, coming to stand next to her.

Sepha didn't turn her head, her face shielded by her hair, "Hey."

"Are you feeling better?" he asked softly.

The girl nodded.

There was a long silence between the two and for a moment Thorin thought he would never manage to get anything out before the girl spoke for him.

"Thank you for... being there.... last night."

Thorin smiled, "Don't mention it. It hurt to see you in such pain...I had already inflicted enough on you... I didn't want you to have to endure more."

Sepha bowed her head slightly and Thorin knew he had to say it.

"Persephone.... I want to apologize."

The girl turned her face to him and Thorin gasped. Her beautiful face was washed and there was a slight pink mark on her cheek from the cut but her face was glowing beautiful and her eyes were red and puffy from crying, making her even more beautiful.

"You don't have to," the girl said.

THorin shook his head, "no I do. I really need to. You have gone through so much... some of it beyond anything I have ever imagined. I thought it was hard enough having my people slaughtered by Smaug and then my father disappearing and my grandfather being killed but... you were just a child and you saw your whole family die... you witnessed death and cruelty time and time again. You were treated unfairly, whipped... wounded... you deserved nothing of what I said to you. It was unjust of me and I apologize."

"it wasn't what you said that hurt me Thorin," Persephone told him, "It wasn't that you said it that hurt.... it hurt because I knew it to be true."

"Sepha, nothing I said to you was true," Thorin started but Persephone shook her head.

"No it is. I am a good for nothing wretch. I am afraid of everything.... afraid to fall asleep at night for fear I will wake up to find that another person I love was killed when I was not on watch. I am afraid to turn my back on someone for a split second because I fear that when I turn around they will be dead. I am afraid to get too close to someone I cannot protect because I fear I will lose them.I have a thousand people hunting me down because of stupid, foolish things I did because I wanted to be a hero. I wanted to make a difference and now, people are suffering for it."

Thorin couldn't stand it anymore. Reaching over, he grasped the girl's face in his huge hands gently and turned it up to look at him. "Persephone. Listen to me. You are not good for nothing. You are the bravest, strongest, kindest... most stubborn person I have ever met. Whoever comes in contact with you is blessed just to be in your presence. Fear is not a weakness. It is a strength. It shows that you are not arrogant or proud. It shows that you are a human and not a spirit. We all have our fears but many of us hide them because we are ashamed of them. You should never be ashamed of your fears. You have every right to be afraid of those things considering what people have done to you... me being one of them. I have played a part in those fears and I want to fix that. I want to help you overcome those fears.... You're too perfect to have fears like that."

"No one is perfect," Persephone whispered, gently moving her face from Thorin's hands.

There was a pause during which they just looked at each other before a gentle smile appeared on Thorin's face, "You are."

"You sit here and don't even think about straining your side," Dwalin instructed.

Sepha sighed and fake pouted by crossing her arms, "Great! Now I have five new adoptive fathers! First Balin, then Beorn, Gandalf, Oin and now you! Who's next? THorin?"

Dwalin chuckled and ruffled her brown hair, "Nah. He's more of an admirer than father to you."

The girl rolled her eyes but her cheeks went pink at Dwalin's words. As the dwarf headed over to join the others who were sparring together, she pulled her braid out. Brushing her fingers through her hair, she quickly red braided her hair but left to locks of hair on either side of her ears, framing her pretty pointy ears and making her look part elvish.

Thorin strode out of the house, heading to join the others when he stopped. He took in the girl who was sitting on a stump, watching the dwarves sparring. The hair framing her face made her look so gentle... so fragile and elf like... but the braid was definitely dwarfish style and it made him smile. He couldn't believe that he could love someone as much as he loved her.

She looked so relaxed, wearing a clean shirt that she had obtained from Kili who was the one nearest her size. it was slightly loose but that helped the bandages and she had tucked it into her pair of pants and was wearing her boots that were clean. Her hands were resting on the stump beside her and she looked so relaxed and carefree... not like she was on a journey to reclaim a mountain where a dragon slept.

"Uncle! Come on!" Kili called.

Thorin headed over to the others and saw that Fili and Kili were going against Dwalin and Gloin. He circled them, fingering his beard as he watched his nephews. FIli was a great fighter but Kili had a few wrong moves.

"here, lift your arm a little more," he said, stepping in to fix Kili's stance.

He then walked over to Fili and whispered in his ear, "Dwalin is right hand dominant. Try for his left more often."

His two nephews went at it and soon managed to disarm Gloin and Dwalin, earning cheers from the others.

"Your turn Thorin!" Kili invited.

"I can't do sword fighting anymore," Dwalin grumbled. "How bout wrestling?"

Thorin was about to object when Balin sauntered past and whispered something in his ear that only Thorin could hear, "Persephone is watching."

Thorin glanced out of the corner of his eyes and saw that sure enough, his two nephews had gone and sat next to the girl and they were watching them. Thorin felt a smile appear on his face and he nodded, "You're on Dwalin."

With that, Dwalin began to remove his heavy clothing so that he was only wearing a shirt and his breeches and boots. Thorin did the same and smirked when Dwalin cracked his knuckles. They hadn't wrestled in a while and Thorin had gotten much stronger recently.

Meanwhile, Fili and Kili were watching their uncle with wide eyes. He was a father figure to them and they practically adored him and looked up at him with admiration. Their mouths were dangling open as they watched Dwalin and Thorin fighting.

"Uncle is so cool!" Kili whispered.

"Yeah!" FIli agreed.

Both of them cringed when THorin drew Dwalin over his shoulder, bringing the other dwarf to his back.

"Ouch," Sepha cringed. "Thats why I don't do wrestling."

"What do you do?" Fili inquired, "Other than archery?"

"Double swords," Sepha replied. "And self defense. Though sometimes I opt to morphing cuz it gets the job done faster."

"So how do you morph?" Kili inquired.

Sepha chuckled, "Don't try it Kili. But basically as a skin changer, I just think that I want to change and I do."

"Can you show us again?" Kili asked. "Unless you're still healing."

"Oh I'm healing just fine," Sepha replied.

Thorin brought Dwalin down a third time and the dwarves cheered for Thorin had won the round. He smiled and helped Dwalin up. He snuck a look at where his nephews and Sepha were but saw them getting up and heading off out of sight.

"Want to go for another?" Gloin invited THorin.

Thorin was about to object but Balin beat him to it, having noticed Thorin's puzzled look, "I think Thorin has some things to do. How about you go for Bofur."

Thorin smiled at Balin as thanks as he grabbed his blue tunic and headed after his nephews and Sepha. When he found them, he kept a good distance off so they didn't notice him.

They were standing in the open field by the river and Sepha was morphing from human, to wolf. the girl and Fili kept laughing whenever Kili tried to morph but only ended in a faceplant.

"Stop trying bro," FIli said, "You're not even a skin changer!"

"It's all in the head!" Kili said, "have some imagination!"

Sepha chuckled and morphing again into a wolf, she caught the boy by the boot with her teeth gently and began dragging him, earning a laugh from Fili and yelps from Kili.

She morphed back and she fell onto her back with laughter at Kili's horrified face. "Don't worry Kee. Most girls aren't attracted to guys who can morph anyway. You would be better off by working on your flirting."

"If you would even call it flirting," Fili pointed out. "He's scared some dwarf girls out of their breeches."

That sent Sepha laughing again and Thorin found himself smiling. Her laughing was like music and he loved hearing it. He also loved the bright look on her face and how she seemed so peaceful and happy.

(LATER)

Thorin was seated in a chair, reading a book silently. He never really read but all the other dwarves were sparring yet again (a second day in a row) so he had decided to avoid that by finding an occupation.

The door of the house opened and in ran Sepha. Her arms were full of herbs, many of them flowering. There were leaves and small flower petals in her hair and her cheeks were rosy from running. she had been healing nicely and Oin had given her the okay to do as she pleased but to be careful of her side.

THorin felt his heart stop and he feared that he was staring, mouth slightly open for the sight before him was like seeing a goddess. Her hair was slightly messed, hair flying all about her face. She wore Kili's white shirt laced up the back with her leather jacket but not laced up, her breeches and her boots. Her arms were overflowing with green plants, white and purple flowering plants and she carried a handful of stems covered in berries.

Her eyes met his for a second before she smiled and scurried off to where Oin was."I got your herbs."

"Oh thank you dear," the dwarf said, taking the armful of things from her. "Did you go into the thicket to find them?"

"Yeah," the girl replied. "Why?"

"Cuz you have some things in your hair." Oin chuckled.

Sepha sighed and handed the herbs to the dwarf. standing up, she walked a ways towards her bag and finding a fresh hairtie, she removed the other tie and let her hair fall out. She began to pick the small pieces of leaf, petals and other things from her hair. Thorin was watching her from beneath his eye lashes and before he knew it, he couldn't hold it back any longer.

Standing up, he set his book down and approached the girl from behind. He gently touched her hands and the girl slightly jumped, "Let me."

Sepha lowered her hands and THorin began to run his fingers through her hair, removing the pieces of hair. He ran his fingers through her thick brown hair again, even though there weren't anymore petals or leaves in her hair. How he wished to braid her hair but he feared she knew about dwarven braiding customs.

"Can I ask you something Sepha?" he inquired

"Sure," the girl replied, obviously thinking he was still getting leaves out of her hair.

"What do you know about your kin's customs? I mean.... all four of them?"

"Not much honestly," Sepha replied, "My mom was about to teach me before she died. She only go to explaining skin changer and wizards but they don't really have any customs like elves do. I know how elves court... but that's about it. Dwarves... I'm ashamed to say I know very little except that a dwarf and his or her One wait till after marriage to consummate their marriage.... that's really it."

The moment she told him that she knew very little about dwarfish customs, he began to run his fingers through her hair and began to braid it in a dwarfish braid.

When he finished, he released her hair and Sepha touched the braids a moment, smiling, "Thanks. You didn't have to do that."

Thorin shrugged, "I don't mind."

Sepha smiled and thanking him again, skipped outside to where his nephews were calling her, having not figured out where she had disappeared to. THorin smiled. How he wished he could tell her what he had just initiated. In Dwarven customs, There were different ways to begin showing one's affection to the other and one of those things was staking a claim by either act of arms to fight for the person's hand, show of physical strength or braiding the other's hair. However, Thorin felt that it was too soon to tell her.

He had just gotten on good terms with her after the horrible things he said to her in Rivendell. he didn't want to ruin it by expressing his feelings too soon. Little did he know that Dwalin and Balin had seen the whole thing and were smirking at each other. Fili and Kili were going to be so ticked off when they find out that they'll be losing the bet!

hen THorin finished thinking of the best way to tell Sepha about his feelings, he headed out doors to see what the others were up to. He wasn't the least bit surprised to see that Sepha was helping Kili with his sword fighting. She had both her swords drawn and was giving him tips, pausing every few blows to show him where to put his feet and so forth.

Thorin went and stood beside Dwalin who was watching Persephone constantly. He knew that Dwalin was trying to understand Sepha's form of fighting since it was a mixture of all different kinds of races.

"She's a tough one to read," Dwalin whispered, "It's like she has no pattern. That makes it very difficult to tell where she is going to strike next. It's almost aggravating!"

THorin smiled and looked at the girl. her moves were so graceful, smooth but so deadly that THorin understood Dwalin's frustration.

"Why don't you go spar with her?" Dwalin suggested as Kili stepped back, taking a break

Thorin looked from Dwalin to the girl, then back at Dwalin before sighing, "Fine."

In truth, he was dying to spar with her, just to be close to her but he didn't want Dwalin to know about his feelings... at least not yet.

"Let's see what you've got," he invited Sepha, drawing Orcrist.

Persephone smiled and handed one of her swords to Fili. The way THorin was going about, he obviously didn't want a lesson but wanted an actual round. In that case she was going to take it seriously.

She drove her other sword into the ground and quickly laced up her jacket so it didn't get in her way. As she did, he watched her and felt his mouth go dry. How he so wished to know what it felt like to touch her hands.... her face.... all of her.... he quickly shook his heads. Stop thinking such things when you aren't even courting her!

"Vaem hef tho bjorgart ilv mikk?" Thorin muttered in Kuzdul.

He said it too quietly for Persephone to hear but loud enough for all the dwarves to hear and their eyes widened and their eyebrows shot up. Persephone cocked her head at him.

"Sorry, I didn't hear that."

Thorin shook his head, "It was nothing."

"If it was nothing, then why is Dwalin smirking?" she inquired.

THorin looked over his shoulder to see that Balin and Dwalin were indeed smirking at him while Fili and Kili had their jaws dropped and eyes practically bulging from their faces. Oh if they said a word of this to her he was going to have their heads!

"Tell you what," Thorin remarked. "If you win this round, I'll tell you."

Persephone smiled and cracked her knuckles, "Deal."

Thorin didn't know what to do especially since Persephone just stood there calmly, her sword in the ground about three feet in front of her.

"Come on," the girl invited.

Thorin charged at her but that was a mistake. Persephone completely avoided him by bending completely backwards and grabbing her sword as she went. She spun around and held her sword horizontal in front of her, gripping it backwards.

Thorin turned and considered her. This time she took the first blow. Thorin had no idea where it came from but Persephone's blows were faster than any sword fighter he had ever fought against. THorin was an incredibly talented sword master but they were both equally matched in the other.

Thorin knew that she couldn't strain her side yet so he decided to use that against and take a blow at her where she couldn't avoid him without straining her side. It worked and soon he had her disarmed and he had Orcrist at her chest.

he smiled, "I win."

Persephone just raised her eyebrows and smiled, extending her right hand, "Funny thing I learnt in my years of wandering THorin.... never try to find a woman's weakness...."

Just then, Thorin felt something fly through the air and before he knew it, Persephone's sword was in her hand... both of them and she had them crossed at his neck, Orcrist tossed to the side, "...Because we always find yours first."

Thorin's eyes were so wide that Persephone smiled, "Never try to test a wizard."

Thorin smacked himself inwardly for being so foolish. She was a wizard! She probably had a spell that enabled her to draw her weapons to her mentally.

"So, what was it that you mumbled to yourself?" the girl asked, sheathing her swords.

All eyes turned to Thorin and he felt the back of his neck go red. He swallowed and at once his mouth went dry, "Nothing."

Before Persephone could object, he had ducked his head and had headed back to the house, walking briskly and sheating Orcrist as he went.

Sepha looked at Fili and Kili who were still staring with dropped jaws while Dwalin and Balin looked disappointed, not in Sepha but in the fact that Thorin hadn't told her.

"What did I say? Was it a touchy subject?"

Finding that Fili and Kili were practically frozen at present, Balin shook his head, "The lad was just nervous."

"Nervous? THorin?" Sepha inquired, "I find that hard to believe."

Dwalin sighed, "Why is it that it is always the person involved that is oblivious?"

"Oblivious to what?" Sepha inquired.

Balin sighed and patted her shoulder, "Lass... THorin was nervous because of you. What he said was in Kuzdul and it was: What have you done to me?"

t was their third day staying with Beorn and they were planning on leaving the next morning. They were going to leave that day since Sepha was fully healed now but Beorn insisted they wait one more day so that he could scout the area for Azog. the orc had strangely disapeared and that worried them.

Thorin was finding it rather hard to do anything without staring at Persephone. The girl was watching Bofur and Nori doing spoon tricks, laughing with Fili and Kili and Thorin had been caught staring several times. He didn't really care that Balin and Dwalin caught him staring for they obviously knew about his feelings but for some reason, Persephone was on alert. He wondered if someone had told her what he had muttered in kuzdul. That would explain why she kept looking over at him occasionally, out of the time catching him watching her.

"If you keep staring your eyes are going to wear out," Balin muttered, coming to sit next to Thorin.

The dwarf prince was seated on a bench across the room from the others, leaning on his knees and fidgeting with his hands. His blue eyes intensely watching Persephone.

"I can't help it," the dwarf whispered back.

Balin smiled, "I don't expect you to help it. I expect you to do something about it."

Thorin finally tore his eyes from Persephone and looked at Balin, "What do you mean?"

"If you keep staring you'll either scare the poor lass or she'll start to think something is wrong. Also, if you dont stake a claim soon, someone will come along and snatch the lass. She's old enough to wed and with those looks and her traveling as much as she does, I find it a miracle that someone hasn't courted her yet."

Thorin shook his head, "But how do I do that? She doesn't know any of the dwarfish customs."

Balin smiled, "Well some of them are obvious. Like shows of physical strength."

Thorin opened his mouth to point out that he had joined in the sparring but Balin shook his head, "Without invitation. You have to do it without Dwalin inviting you to do it."

Thorin sighed and ran his hands over his face, "But what will that do when she doesn't know the meaning behind it?"

Balin shrugged, "As the trip goes on I can gradually explain the customs of dwarfish courting to her. I can tell her that you brought up that she doesn't know much and I'll offer to teach her. That way, you can begin to show small signs of affection and she can understand."

"But why must I show a feet of physical strength?"

"To impress her laddie," Balin said. "Try to think outside the box. Forget the customs for a moment and think about winning her. You are obviously impressed with her beyond doubt but you have never tried to impress her."

"I didn't want to see like a showoff," Thorin mumbled.

Balin smirked, "Which is a side of you I appreciate. If you don't want her to think of you as a showoff, show physical strength and act like you don't know she's there."

Thorin sat there thinking about it a moment before nodding, "Alright.... when?"

"Now," Balin suggested. "I'll be sure to make sure the lass follows within five minutes."

Thorin nodded and rising to his feet, he headed out of the house. Balin casually walked over to the table and sat down with the others. Occasionally he peered out the window and he could see that Thorin was having trouble figuring something out. He wasn't going to give up on the dwarf prince so easily so he decided to give him a boost.

"Laddies, when was the last time you washed your clothes?" Balin asked, wrinkling his nose.

The dwarves were about to point out that they never wash their things but Balin gave them a warning look. Persephone perked up.

"If you guys need laundry washed, I can do it."

"Oh don't worry yourself lass," Gloin remarked. "You don't have to do that."

Persephone shook her head, "Oh stop it! I have been practically an invalid the past three days and it's driving me insane! I want to help! I can never help with meals because that would mean Bofur wouldn't get his night to cook and he needs to practice."

"You got that right," Bombur muttered.

"If you're sure lass," Dwalin remarked, catching onto his brother's plan.

Sepha nodded, "Just give me what you need cleaned and I'll take care of it. Might as well before we leave tomorrow. Don't want to travel in soiled clothing."

The girl headed off and soon located a scrub brush and a bar of soap. When she returned, She saw that all the dwarves were in breeches and had wrapped their cloaks around them because their shirts were in the basket. There was a basket of clothes that Dwalin handed her.

"Thanks again Lass," he said.

Persephone nodded and looked around, counting dwarves, "Where's Thorin?"

Balin tried to restrain from grinning. The plan was working! Fili and Kili's heads snapped up at that and they caught the sparkle in Balin's eyes, making them suspicious.

"He's out back, chopping wood for Beorn," Balin said after glancing out the window.

Persephone nodded and headed out the back. Once she was gone, Balin turned to see FIli and Kili glaring at him suspiciously, arms crossed.

"You're cheating," Fili hissed.

"No I'm not," Balin objected. "I'm just giving them a little boost."

"Cheating on what?" Bofur inquired, curious.

"We made a bet with the lads," Dwalin explained. "They bet that Thorin and Persephone wouldn't become a couple till after we reclaim Erabor. My brother and I think they will before."

Bofur grinned and rubbed his hands, "OOOOOH! Count me in!"

Meanwhile, Persephone had stepped out of the house with the basket and had found Thorin in the back, chopping wood. He was only wearing his blue tunic, shirt, breeches and boots. Every time he slammed the axe into the wood, she could see his muscles flex beneath his tunic. She was surprised at how smoothly but strongly the axe met the block with a deep thunk.

"Thorin," she called.

Thorin turned and took in the sight of the girl, "Yeah?"

"I was just going to wash the other's things before we left tomorrow. Do you have anything that needs cleaning?"

Thorin was about to object but something told him that Balin had told her to do that. He felt his ears go red realizing what Balin was trying to get him to do. He was trying to think of something when Persephone spoke up.

"You have blood and dirt caked into your tunic," she pointed out. "You're jerkin is already in here."

THorin nodded and removed his blue tunic, leaving him in only his pants and blue shirt. He rolled the tunic up and placed it in the basket. He didn't even have to look at his shirt to know it was just as caked with dried sweat and dirt. Trying to fight back the redness appearing on his ears, he removed his shirt and placed it in the basket.

Without meeting her eyes, he bent down and picked up his axe. He stood back up and grabbed a log, "Thanks Sepha."

When the girl didn't reply he looked at her to see that her cheeks had gone bright pink and she was staring slightly. She quickly nodded and headed off, leaving Thorin with a huge grin on his face. Working so far.

Persephone cleaned all the dwarves's clothes and laid them on the grass to dry. By the time she reached Thorin's, her hands were slightly numb from the scrubbing but she didn't mind. She grabbed THorin's shirt and was about to submerge it in the water when she stopped. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure Fili and Kili weren't creeping up on her, she buried her nose in the shirt and breathed in.

She missed that smell. When Thorin had been holding her when Oin had been operating on her, his scent had filled her nose and had been the only thing to keep her conscious. He smelled of forests, smoke and sweat. It was the best smell.

Taking one more smell, she scrubbed it long and hard, being sure to get all the blood stains out. When she finished, she grabbed all the now dry clothes and placing them in the basket, headed back up to the house.

When she approached, she had first thought to stop by and give THorin his shirt and tunic but something made her freeze in her tracks. THorin was still chopping wood but of course he was still shirtless and now he was sweating. As he slammed the axe into the block, pulling it out easily, his arm muscles rippled. Sepha found herself staring and she was glad she had good self control or her mouth would have dropped.

Thorin slammed the axe again but this time he noticed her and smiled at her, acting completely innocent, pretending to not notice the bright blush on her face. Persephone smiled and quickly tore her eyes away, heading indoors.

She was so occupied in trying to not blush that she didn't notice all the dwarves scurrying away from the window where they had been crowding to watch what was happening outside.

Persephone continued to sort out the clothes, lying them next to each person's bag. The dwarves all came and grabbed their things, heading into the stalls to change. Persephone continued to fold their coats and was just folding Thorin's shirt when she felt a presence behind her.

Before she could even turn to see which dwarf it was, a hand reached out and reaching into the basket, pulled out the blue tunic. Persephone didn't even have to turn around to know it was THorin. She recognized the tattoo on his arm, the brace on his wrist.... the sweat and the shape of his muscles.

She felt her cheeks flame bright red and she tried to hide behind her hair but Thorin's braid was still intact and it kept the hair out of her eyes. UGH!

"You got all the blood off," THorin's deep voice said, close to her ear. "Thank you."

The girl nodded but didn't look up. She hadn't noticed that she was still folding his shirt till he spoke again.

"I don't think you can fold it anymore."

Persephone snapped out of her daze and shoved the shirt at THorin, not looking up. She bent down to grab the basket but found that it was gone. Thorin had moved it.

"What's wrong?" the dwarf inquired, "You look flushed."

Persephone didn't look up until he pulled on his shirt but when she did, she smacked herself inwardly. Even with his shirt on, she could still make out his well toned body, his broad chest and without his tunic, he still looked incredibly hot.

She found herself staring again but this time she didn't catch it in time, "Thanks again."

Persephone nodded and quickly walked off, missing the smile on Thorin's gaze. She also completely missed seeing Dwalin, Bofur, Oin, Balin, Bombur and Dori give him a thumbs up from across the room, all the other dwarves muttering under their breath that the others were 'cheating'.

That night, Persephone found it impossible to sleep. She still couldn't get THorin out of her head. What had happened? Since her sparring match with him, she had noticed on and off how he would constantly watch her when she wasn't looking and when she looked at him, he would look away. Of course, his beard and his long hair prevented her from seeing if he turned red.

Then, she would remember watching him remove his shirt in front of her.... sweat pouring down his chest...

She sat up. Looking around, she saw that all the dwarves and Gandalf were asleep. Beorn was still gone and wouldn't be back till dawn. She reached down and scratched her side. Her wound was itchy which was a result of it healing but it got annoying sometimes. Getting up silently, she grabbed her bag and headed to the kitchen.

The kitchen was in view of the sleeping dwarves but the furthest she could go. She grabbed a bucket of water and began to heat it quietly. While it heated, she grabbed fresh bandages from her bag and her shirt which she had mended.

Checking over her shoulder to ensure that the dwarves were asleep, she removed Kili's shirt. She still wore her bra (in middle earth, the bras come up as high as a sport's bra and low, almost to the naval). She laid his shirt on the table, planning on cleaning it before returning it to Kili.

Grabbing the bandages, she began to unwind her other bandages on her side. Her back was fully healed and only got sore occasionally.

What she didn't know was that a certain Dwarf prince had been roused by the sound of shuffling. Slowly opening his blue eyes, he saw the silhouette of Persephone nearby. He watched as she removed Kili's shirt and lay it on the table. He couldn't see her clearly for the candle only lit up her face and made her siloughette visible.

Thorin watched entranced as she removed her bandages, cleaned her wound carefully and rebandaged her side. When she finished, she placed the dirty bandages and kili's shirt near the door where she would find them the next day to wash. THorin quickly shut his eyes and pretended to sleep silently when she passed. However, her footsteps stopped near him and he wondered if she was looking at him.

In fact, as she was passing the dwarf prince, she had froze and was looking at his sleeping form. Even covered in his cloak, his eyes closed and mouth shut he was gorgeous. His lashes were long and dark... his face clean... his lips firm and one arm crossed over his stomach, his strong hand gripping Orcrist.

"Vaem hef tho bjorgart ilv mikk?" She whispered. (What have you done to me?)

Persephone knew that the whisper was too quiet to wake anyone but she didn't know that THorin had heard it loud and clear and his heart had done a leap at the sound of it.

He heard her footsteps leave after a moment and he heard the straw rustle as she laid down. After about ten minutes he dared to open his eyes and saw the girl sleeping on the other side of Kili, further away from the snoring dwarves. Fili and Kili were lying facing each other and Persephone was sleeping about an arms length from Kili near her pack.

Her eyes were closed, her brown hair cascading down her back as she laid on her side. Thorin watched her in the dark for a while till he saw her shiver and whimper. she was dreaming.

Without hesitation the dwarf got up and tiptoeing quietly past the others, he laid down beside her on the straw. She was now violently tossing her head back and forth, unable to wake up from the horrible dream. THorin gently placed his hand on her cheek and pressed his forehead against hers.

"It's alright. I'm here," he whispered.

Almost instantly, the girl stopped shaking and relaxed, still sound asleep. Thorin shifted so he was lying slightly sitting up and he pulled the sleeping girl into his arms. He was surprised when the girl turned and nuzzled her face into his chest before falling back asleep.

Thorin sighed and watched the girl as she slept. He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and smiled, "You have no idea what you have done to me."

When they woke up the next morning, Persephone was the first to wake and she almost yelped in surprise when she felt the rise and fall of a chest beneath her. Lifting her green eyes, she realized she had fallen asleep on top of Thorin!

"Wha..." she started but THorin shifted in his sleep.

The girl almost squeaked when Thorin's arm tightened around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him before he nuzzled his face into her hair and laid still, "Amralime" he mumbled.

Sepha's eyes widened at the familiar dwarfish word and was glad that everyone was asleep or they would have seen her go pink. Careful as to not rouse THorin, she shifted out of his arms and began to pack. She finished cleaning her bandages and Kili's shirt before she returned.

By then, all the other dwarves were awake including THorin and were silently packing their things. Thorin seemed to act like he hadn't fallen asleep with the girl in his arms and Sepha found it hard not to stare at him nor to turn red when he looked at her.

"Any sign of Beorn?" kili asked.

Sepha shook her head, "Not as of yet. He'll probably be back soon."

The dwarves nodded and all sat down to find something quiet to do while they waited for the skin changer.

When Persephone headed back indoors from helping Gandalf feed the ponies, she found that the dwarves were sitting in a circle around Dwalin and Balin who were arm wrestling over a large chunk of log.

"What's going on?" the girl inquired of Fili and Kili.

the two young dwarves grinned, "We decided that one of us needs to be your 'protector' so we're having an arm wrestling competition to see which of us has the job of protecting you."

"Guys," Sepha groaned, "I don't need a babysitter."

"Not a babysitter lass," Oin explained. "Just someone who will ensure that you are alright. We wont smother you I promise."

What Sepha wasn't being told was that arm wrestling over a female for dwarves was seen as an act of dominance. Whoever won the competition would have first dibs on courting the lass. Of course, none of the other dwarves had an interest in courting the girl but they were trying to urge Thorin to stake a claim.

Dwalin beat Balin but the good natured old dwarf smiled, "Who's next?"

FIli and Kili were about to step up but Balin shook his head, "Bofur bested you two already."

"I will," a voice rang out.

Sepha felt her cheeks go pink as Thorin stepped up to the block and sat down opposite Dwalin. Sepha completely missed the smirk coming from half the dwarves because she was too busy trying to not blush and stare as THorin rolled up one of his sleeves. He placed his elbow on the block and gripped Dwalin's hand tightly.

When Balin signaled them to begin, Sepha swallowed when she saw Thorin's arm tense and the muscles and veins in his arm flex as he fought against Dwalin. While Dwalin was saying things in Kuzdul, groaning and grunting, Thorin didn't make a noise and had his blue eyes trained on their hands calmly.

Suddenly, Dwalin's hand made contact with the block. Thorin won!

The dwarves all cheered and Dwalin patted Thorin on the shoulder, "Still the best laddie."

"Well then I guess that makes Uncle, Persephone's protector," Fili started.

"I don't need a babysitter," Sepha objected, even though she didn't mind the idea of Thorin protecting her.

"It's just a precaution," THorin told her as he got to his feet.

Persephone felt her heart stop as he passed her, looking at her for a moment from beneath his long lashes.

*******

For the next several hours Persephone stayed as far from Thorin as possible and stuck as close as she could to Fili and Kili, hoping that it would prevent any nervous encounters. When Beorn returned and replied that the orcs wouldn't beat them to Mirkwood but were close, Persephone happily busied herself saddling the ponies.

"Got your bag Seph," Kili called, scurrying out of the house with her bag.

He tossed it to her and she slung it onto her pony with a smile, "Thanks Kee."

She began to put the bit to her pony's mouth and realized that her pony was the stubborn one. She was just about to wiggle her finger into the horse's jaw to pry his mouth open when a voice caught her attention and she almost jumped when THorin's intimidating figure appeared on the other side of her horse's head.

"Having trouble?" he smirked.

Sepha felt her cheeks go red and she didn't look up to meet his steady gaze, "I should have saddled this young fella for you. You two would make good companions."

THorin chuckled and reaching over, he took the bit from Sepha's hand. She felt her cheeks flame red when his calloused finger brushed against her soft one and quickly ducked her head, hiding behind her brown waves.

She watched as Thorin put the bit to the horse's mouth and immediately, the horse opened his mouth and Thorin slipped the halter on. Sepha raised her eyebrow and saw that THorin's blue eyes were twinkling with mischief.

"Nothing a little sugar cannot handle," THorin remarked, revealing that he had a small handful of sugar cubes in his hand.

Sepha shook her head ruefully, "You tyrant. Now he'll be a biter."

THorin smiled, "Well then you two would make a perfect team."

Sepha's head snapped up and she placed her hands on her hips. Thorin tried not to chuckle but a huge grin spread across his face at the sight. She looked so cute when she was offended and the whole hands on hips thing didn't help Thorin's infatuation which was now almost unbearable especially when she cocked her head to the side, her hair falling off her shoulder and revealing her smooth, white neck and shoulder.

"Now I will pretend I didnt hear that."

"Then who will we offer this brute to?" THorin inquired.

Sepha peered around at all the dwarves and realized that most of them had already mounted or chosen a pony. Then, her eyes settled on Fili and Kili who were heading out of the house, having finally emerged with all their things. A smirk appeared on her face and she took the reins from Thorin.

Thorin watched the girl approach his nephews and hold out the reins to his youngest nephew, completely faking innocence and Kili took the reins, completely oblivious to the mischievous smile playing on THorin's face.

Sepha spun on her heel and skipped back to Thorin, her green eyes twinkling, "This'll be good."

THorin shook his head and smiled down at the girl who slung her bag onto her back and picked a more agreeable pony, "I had no idea you had a mischievous streak in you."

"I usually don't," Sepha replied. "But that's what happens when you hang around those two."

Before Thorin could comment further, Sepha had swung up onto her pony and had trotted over to Fili. THorin found his pony and had mounted just when a surprised yelp erupted from Kili. The young dwarf had found it impossible to get his pony to move until Sepha came over and slapped his pony across the rear end, sending the horse into a perfect gallop, almost dropping the dwarf.

Sepha and Fili were laughing so hard that they were almost falling off their ponies. Balin and Dwalin were grinning while the other dwarves quickly made bets as to how long Kili would manage to hang onto the horse.

Thorin smiled and seeing that Gandalf was still talking to Beorn, maneuvered his horse in Sepha's direction. He was hoping, seeing as they would only be traveling at a trot to Mirkwood, that he would have some time to talk with Sepha. However, this proved much more difficult than he thought.

The moment Balin and Dwalin saw the dwarf prince heading in Sepha's direction, they found a good reason to steer Fili as far from Sepha as possible, leaving Thorin plenty of room to move his horse next to Sepha's. However, Sepha was much more keen on things happening than THorin had predicted and noticing Balin and Dwalin's move, she had spied Thorin heading her way and turning her pony, she had trotted straight over to Bifur, Bofur and Bombur who at once began talking with her about Kili and the pony and their bets.

Thorin pulled his pony to a halt and sighed. Why was she avoiding him? It was like she didn't mind talking with him but didn't seem comfortable being around him alone for too long.

Thorin became aware of another presence next to him and turned to see Dwalin and Balin on either side of him. Both looked disappointed.

"Nice try though laddie," Balin remarked sadly.

Dwalin patted Thorin's shoulder and smiled encouragingly, "SHe's a hard one that lass. But that doesn't mean she's no less worthy to be won."

"On the contrary," Balin remarked, leaning over to look at his brother around Thorin, "She is showing respect, restraint and caution which is something you rarely see in young girls especially where Thorin is involved. Any other girl would be fawning over him the moment he showed any interest. Sepha is being cautious, not because she doesn't trust THorin but because she has never been in this situation before and she isnt yet sure what to make of it."

"Just give her time Thorin," Dwalin encouraged. "I can tell that SEpha cares about you... to what extent I don't know but at the least, she looks to you in admiration and respect."

Thorin nodded and sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, "I just hope I haven't scared her."

"No such luck," Kili remarked.

The three turned to see that Kili had miraculously survived the horse encounter but his hair was windblown and looked a fright, his eyes wide and his face still pale but pink from the wind, "She is just flustered."

"How so?" all three asked at the same time.

Kili smirked knowingly, "Don't tell my brother but I'm betting that you two will end up together before we reach the mountain. Anyway, she seemed rather flustered after your.... shirtless attempt at impressing her and after that, Fee and I noticed her looking at you occasionally but blushing crimson whenever you looked back at her."

Thorin's eyes widened and a glint of hope flashed through his eyes. Dwalin was smirking and Balin was grinning so wide that he looked creepy.

"So our little scheme worked!" he hooted, just low enough for Sepha to not hear. "now for step two of the master plan!"

"What is that?" THorin and Kili asked, looking rather concerned.

"Educate the lass in dwarves customs of courting and marriage," Balin explained.

Kili scratched his head and then realized how windblown his hair was and began to fuss over it, "Exactly how many steps are within this master plan?"

Dwalin and Balin leant over to look at each other, "Some 76...."

Kili yanked on his hair so much that he created a master knot and almost fell off his pony. THorin's eyes grew so wide that his crystal blue eyes almost looked silver and his mouth dropped open.

"Oh boy," Kili sighed.

horin knew that most of the company, especially Fili and Gandalf and Bilbo were beginning to wonder why he would turn around every five minutes to look at the rest of the company. Fili occasionally asked his brother if he knew what was up with their uncle but Kili played innocent rather well, saying he was clueless.

The truth was, everyone else knew perfectly well why for nearer to the back of the ground rode Balin and Sepha, deep in conversation. Dwalin, Kili and Fili rode in front of them and were listening in on the conversation.

"So cutting hair or beards is a sign of mourning," Sepha repeated, trying to drill the custom into her memory as Balin acquainted her with the most basic traditions.

"Or as a sign of apology," Balin explained. "See, when Thorin's father and grandfather were killed, he cut his beard which is why his is shorter than most of ours."

Sepha glanced at Kili who was looking back at her but stopped before she asked, realizing that the reason why Kili's was so short was because of his youth.

"So...if dwarves are about twice the age of a human... that makes Fili...88?"

"BINGO!" Fili called, flashing the girl a smirk and waving his hand in a mock salute, "Someone is catching on fast."

"So that makes Kili 71?" Sepha inquired.

Kili nodded, flashing her a smile as well. "What about you Seph?"

Sepha pursed her lips together and looked up at the sky, "Well.... I'm technically 61 in human years because in dwarven/elven years I'm 122."

"Hey that's not much younger than uncle," Kili remarked, a little too enthusiastically, getting a warning look of a head shake from Balin, a cut-it-out motion from Dwalin and a suspicious look from his brother.

Sepha felt her cheeks go red but she tried to push it off, "How is Thorin anyway.... unless that is a little improper to ask."

Balin chuckled, "Lass, I doubt THorin would mind you asking his age. He is not ashamed, since he is technically in his prime but once you reach my age, it is just disgraceful."

Sepha laughed, "Oh Balin, being old isnt a bad thing!"

Dwalin saw that the conversation had gotten off topic so he quickly reverted it back to Thorin, "THorin is 195 lass. You do the math. I'm too tired."

Sepha wrinkled her nose and you could basically see her brain gears turning, "ninety....seven?"

"In and around those parts," Kili replied, getting a glare from the other three who were getting rather annoyed at his interruptions.

"Jeez.... you're really young Seph," Fili remarked, teasingly.

Sepha faked pout, "Oh you're one to talk! technically, you're only 44!"

Fili's eyes widened, "I THINK I"M GOING TO TALK TO ORI BEFORE YOU ALL MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A BABY!"

With that, he urged his horse on and Kili followed him, followed by the laughs from Balin, Dwalin and Sepha.

"So brother," Dwalin said, trying to urge his brother to get to the point. "Did you talk about dwarven customs for dams?"

"Dams?" Sepha inquired.

"Female dwarves lass," Balin replied. "And no we haven't yet. We actually should... since you are the lass of the company."

Sepha smiled at the title he gave her, "What do you think is the most important tradition?"

Balin thought a moment before replying, "Probably exchanges that pass between dwarrows and dams."

"You mean like in courtship?" Sepha asked, so far oblivious.

Balin nodded, "Exactly. dwarves hold the rite of marriage in very high esteem. Probably higher than most races. When we marry our one, we are married for life and are dedicated to our very souls to our mate."

A smile had appeared on Sepha's face and Dwalin was glad that Balin's description seemed to please her.

"Dwarves only court once and that is when they are sure they have found their One. I'm sure you've heard of the One?"

Sepha nodded, "Most certainly. It is legend that when dwarves were created, Mahal created two beings from one body, each other's One. Neither would feel complete till they found their other half."

Balin nodded, "Exactly lass."

Sepha cocked her head, "So... what are some things that go between men and women during courtship?"

"Well," Balin said, pretending to think. "When a dwarf is sure he found his one and wants to court her, he tries to impress her to get her attention and hopefully win her favor before asking for her permission to court her. He will try to impress her by feets of arms... combat, sparring and showing of strength and ability. Also if he shows signs of deep respect for the lass, defending her and acting as a protector and respectful companion."

Sepha nodded, having not caught on till she heard the last part and she practically froze. Her face went ashen white and at once, the two dwarves feared that she was afraid or shocked. Her green eyes slowly flitted away from Balin to the tall, dark haired figure of the dwarf prince riding at the front. His back was to her and he was conversing with FIli and Kili.

Balin was about to speak when he saw Sepha's cheeks go bright pink and she ducked her head. He decided that it was enough of a lesson for one day.

After a while, Sepha slowed her horse to join Ori and Dori near the back, leaving Balin and Dwalin out of earshot. The two exchanged knowing looks and winks, shaking hands while she wasn't looking.

"Seems like she's noticed the obvious," Balin whispered.

Dwalin nodded, "Now what?"

Balin smirked and rubbed his hands together in anticipation, "Step three.... sign of respect from Thorin."

Dwalin nodded, "but how will we do that? We're not stopping for the night."

Balin pursed his lips together and glanced at Sepha, "We'll be stopping to water the ponies in a few minutes and to relieve ourselves... Get the others... don't tell Bilbo, Fili or the others who are on Fili's side of the bet. Get the others to practically cling to Sepha when we stop so if she tries to have some privacy, she'll find it hard. I'll alert Thorin to the plan and he can take it from there."

A mischievous smile lit up Dwalin's face and he grinned, "Perfect. I'm off."

Dwalin slowed his horse to talk to Nori, Bifur and Bofur while Balin urged his horse to Thorin who was talking with Gandalf.

Sepha seemed completely oblivious except for the exchange that happened between THorin and Balin. she hadn't thought anything of the conversation with Balin except at how startled she was to realize that THorin might very well have been trying to impress her the other day at Beorn's. Now that she thought of it, it hadn't been the first time. There had been the time when he had sparred with Dwalin in front of her... but she shook her head. It was doubtful that someone like Thorin would have an interest in her... a quarter breed.

Sepha quickly looked back at Ori when she realized that after talking with Balin for a moment, Thorin had looked over his shoulder at the girl with a look she didn't have time to read. If she had looked, she would have seen a smile on his face, and a flicker of bright hope in his beautiful blue eyes.

Little did she know, that half the company were trying their hardest to see the two get together as a couple before they reached the mountain. With Fili and the other half of the company pressing on them, they had no choice.

#thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #thorin #hobbit #lotr

[letaliabane]

Understanding (Care For Series)

Pair: Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (a pretty short one too lol) + Gandalf being a sweet fatherly figure

Genre: Arguing, Angst, Fluff

Prompt/s: “Are you okay?” + “ Just how stupid do you think I am?”

A/N: Hello everyone! I thought I would write a few imagines from the Hobbit with Thorin x reader feels, and maybe even other characters if I get the extra time. Hope your all taking care of yourselves, and I apologise for not posting a lot, year 12 is taking the kick out of me and need a way to chill. If you wish to request, please do but it will take me a while to attend to them. Enjoy!| Inspiration:thereandbackagainimagines

Masterlist + Hobbit Masterlist

‘Y/N, may I introduce you to Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of this company and the heir to Erebor’s throne.’ I couldn’t help but smile at the dwarf, aged but still the stoic image of a true leader.

With a small smile, I gave a bow, ‘I am at your service your Majesty, and would be humbled to join your quest.’ Thorin was silent, his eyes roving over my form before turning to Gandalf. ‘She’s not welcome to join us.’

I was flabbergasted. ‘Um-I-uh-Beg pardon-What?’

‘She can’t come with us and thats final!’ I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the stubbornness of the King under the Mountain . Gandalf was, and had been a good friend to me, someone who had taught and advised me for many years of my life, and on a visit to Bree, he requested that I should join his quest alongside the desperate dwarf King to reclaim his home.

Usually I would deny his requests to join him on many of his journey’s, but after hearing the stories of these dwarves losing their home all over the greediness of a single dragon made me tremble, and agreed immediately. However I was now coming to regret that decision and sympathy towards them, especially their so called King.

‘Thorin be reasonable now! This woman is giving up her own safety to help you reclaim your home! Don’t you have any gratitude left to show?!’ Gandalf cried, only to be met with Thorin’s scoff, some of his company members chuckling, ‘And why should I be grateful accepting the help from a miserable human like you.’

‘You should accept all the help you can get, wasn’t it your own kind who believed this journey wasn’t even worth the time and didn’t come to your aid?! Huh?!’  At this they all went silent, Thorin’s lips now in a firm, tight line as I turned towards the wizard who towered over me, ‘Do you really expect that I’m going to help a ungrateful arrogant dwarf like him Gandalf? Think again!’

‘My dear please, lets speak about this-’

‘Let her go Gandalf!’ Thorin bellowed as he went into the sitting room without turning, ‘Good riddance if you ask me.’ 

The dwarves went silent at their leader’s exclamation, some casting dirty look towards him. With a growl of anger, I pushed past Gandalf and the little hobbit who scrambled out of my way as I slammed the door of him once cosy home open.

I never should have left home, I thought to myself. This is what I get when I want to try and help others. 

With home the only set destination, I continued my way down the path, ignoring the distant voices that called my name, only to stop when a firm hand grabbed my arm, twisting me around to face the blond bearded dwarf, a brunette also standing by his side, Fili and Kili I think it was.

‘I apologise for our Uncle’s bad behaviour. I know he can be a bit of a pain … at times.’ I scoffed. ‘At times?’

The blond one just smiled at this, shaking his head, ‘Well maybe a lot. But he has his good side too like everyone does. He’s gone through quite a lot in the past few years. I guess he just has a lot of trouble trusting other races other than his own kin.’

‘I can see that!’ I say, running a hand through my hair with a huff, ‘Well I know when I’m not welcome to a party. I reckon I should get going I lose the light of the sunset-’

‘Well that’s the thing, we - saying me and my brother Fili - would like you to join our journey to the mountain.’ I looked towards them quickly, confusion painting my features as he just smiled, ‘I know you must be confused, but were not like our uncle. We would like all the help that we can muster, especially the intelligence of another species.’ 

‘Are you trying to flatter me?’

‘Well don’t they say flattery is the best persuasion?’ Fili knocked his brother over the head, muttering in Khuzdul only to earn him a groan and I couldn’t help but smile at this, shaking my head, ‘Very well I’ll join you if that’s what you want!’ 

Once we returned to the hobbit’s home, Gandalf smiled broadly at the sight of me, coming over to me instantly and bringing me close, ‘I knew you would return Y/N.’

‘And how did you know that?’

‘You always have the taste to help others.’ I couldn’t help but smile at this, his hearty chuckle ringing in my ears, ‘Your heart is one of kindness, there is a stubborn woman in there, and yet no matter the situation, you always put the needs of others first.’ 

‘Do I Gandalf? And yet I feel like this will all but mean nothing when its over, and I will be tossed aside and be seen as a useless waste of space-’

‘Y/N no, you will not,’ He gasped as he grasped my hands into his own, ‘Eventually the dwarves will become accustomed to journeying alongside you. Just have patience my dear, and all will fall into place.’ I sighed at his words with a nod, smiling once again when he spoke once more, ‘And besides, the stubbornness of dwarves drives me mad too.’ 

Our laughs echoed through the home of Bilbo Baggins, and without my realisation, Thorin was watching intently at the scene. 

When Bilbo decided to join the company, we journeyed long and hard on our first day, sticking close to the hobbit and two dwarf brother, making the trip more enjoyable as they told stories of their young days as well of about the other dwarves. I don’t know another time when I laughed so much. And when the sky  began to take the colour spring violets, Thorin (finally) decided we should stop to set up camp on the side of a cliff face within a small alcove.

After setting up my bedroll for the night, I decided to assist Bofur and Bombur with dinner, cutting up the vegetables and meat, passing around the bowls of broth once done. As I made my way over to the two brothers and Bilbo, I caught the last of Kili’s protest to Thorin who, as usual, had a large frown painted on his face, ‘Really, we didn’t mean anything by it Uncle!’

‘No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world!’ He grumbled before pushing past me roughly, almost sending my dinner to the floor. Before I could retaliate, Balin, one of the kinder and older dwarves, gripped my arm quickly, ‘Let him go darlin, Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs than anybody else does.’ 

‘Why? Because he hates everything that lives and breathes beside his own race?’ I said as I sat myself between Kili and Bilbo. Balin sighed, ‘I know he may seem harsh dearie, but he’s gone through some terrible experiences, especially in his youngling years. Things no one should ever have to experience in his lifetime.’

‘What do you mean Balin?’ I say, the gears in my mind ticking in curiosity at what had harden the heart of the King under the Mountain so much. And thats when he revealed not only Thorin’s story, but his own.

‘Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. 

But our enemy had got there first. Azog, the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King. 

Thrain, Thorin’s father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. 

That is when I saw him: a young dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. And Azog, the Defiler, learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken.’ 

My thoughts began to drift as Balin continued to tell the story of the Battle of Moria. Kili and Fili watched with admiration and excitement at the tale, at adventure and the adrenaline pumping thought of fighting. 

But all I could sense from the tone of the elder’s voice was pain. Years of pain endured, from the moment of battle to suffering the great grief of such a loss. I glanced towards Thorin who stared up at the moon at the edge of the cliff, but I knew he had to be listening in on the story, and this was confirmed when he turned towards us at Balin’s final words. 

‘And I thought to myself then in that instance, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King  …’

At the realisation that their leader had turned towards them, the company who too had been listening in, turned away, all muttering amongst themselves. I watched as Thorin, almost shaken-like, pushed past the vast bushes and trudge deeper into the forest. I couldn’t ignore this, and with once glance towards the others, took off after him. 

‘Thorin wait!’ He froze at the sound of my voice, turning to face me as I tried to gasp for breath hastily. For a dwarf, he sure was fast. ‘Yes, what do you want?’

Once I had gained my breath back, I looked up at him, only to find his features strained, almost as if he was struggling to hide his emotions, ‘Well, I just wanted to make sure if you were okay … Are you okay?’ 

‘What makes it any of your business to stick your nose into mine?’ He said with a sense of firmness and arrogance behind it. I could only sigh, ‘How about because I want to make sure that our leader is okay?’ 

‘Well its none of your business! Why don’t you go and bother somebody with your emotional support? Or in fact leave everyone alone!’ Okay, now he really was getting on my nerves. Just as he pushed past me once more, I exploded. ‘What is your problem Thorin?!’ 

Once again he froze at the sound of my agitated tone, turning slowly only to sight the real anger painted upon my face. ‘I get that you are  battling your own battles but we all are! I thought through the many wars that you have faced that you would’ve at least learned how cruel and short life can be that you would make friendships and actually make them work.’ 

His eyes widened, ‘What do you-Just how stupid do you think I am woman?!’ 

‘I think of no such thing Thorin! But I think you’ve got your head so far up your ass to see how much you are putting at stake all because of your arrogance and stupidity! You might as well lose the company that you have worked oh so hard to build!’ 

At this I finally sighed, taking a few steps forward towards him, ignoring how he stepped away, ‘See, your scared to show your emotions, and that can be as dangerous as having an enemy as sitting amongst your company. Look at your nephews and Balin for example, they know how much you’ve been through, at Moria and else where, and how much your really hurting and wish they could read through your thick exterior! All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t push your loves ones away … Please heed my words …’

Thorin just huffed, turning away. With a loud grunt, I took the opportunity to push past him roughly, making him even stumble as he watched me stomp away. ‘Sometimes I wish I could strangle him!’ I muttered under my breath as I entered camp again, many of the dwarves turning at the sound of the commotion. I grabbed the blanket from my bedroll as Thorin appeared from out of the bushes, making Gandalf look between us, but I ignored this as I shouted out to the others, ‘Get some rest! I’m taking first watch!’ 

NEXT (Mistook) or Care for Series or Masterlist

#thorin imagine #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin imagines #thorin oakenshield imagines #lotr imagine #lotr imagines #thorin x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit imagines #hobbit imagines #hobbit imagine #durin imagine #durin imagines #the company imagine #company imagine #lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings imagines #thorin oakenshield x reader #bilbo x thorin #thorin x bilbo #the hobbit series #thorin x healer!reader #azog the defiler #bilbo baggins imagines #care for series #thorin oakenshield fanfiction #the hobbit fanfiction #hobbit fanfiction

[shockcity]

Bagginshield #11 - in battle side by side

Rating: M Summary: for the 30 day OTP challenge. Bilbo and Thorin have wed, were attacked by orcs, kidnapped, and now they’re probably about to die. But both will find out that together they can beat the odds, and that love comes from the oddest of places, and at the most inconvenient of times. AU - Arranged Marriage. This is Part II >>> Go to Part I

Warning: bit of violence here, but nothing too graphic. Bilbo also continues to be a complete badass.

Note: So….sorry this took so long, my professor gave us the deets for our term paper and it’s a monster. Then I got sick and all I did was lay around watching Kitchen Nightmares, and THEN the Defenders trailer dropped and I basically lost my mind and got stuck on the kinkmeme. So yeah. But I’m here and I love you all now have some bagginshield

It has always been the fate of Arnor that the shadow to the east would one day rise and seek to destroy it. In another time and in perhaps another place, Arthedain falls – and events transpire just as one might think; evil comes and so too does good, and they fight beneath a sky that has seen all manner of battles many times before, and will see them many times after. But it does not happen that way, and the world Gandalf must save is this one, and so he sits among the arguing dignitaries of Arnor and prays for patience.

“We obviously have a traitor!” exclaims Mirabella. “And they mean to collect a hefty ransom from us no doubt! Hefty!”

She levels a pointed look at the dwarow. There is no outcry at this accusation, as there would be if anyone but a dwarf were under suspicion. Balin, ever the diplomat, only looks calmly at Mirabella with his tired eyes.

“My lady,” he says slowly. “All we want is our prince and our prince’s husband returned safely to us. Our efforts are wasted pointing fingers at those in this room. It is orcs that took them, and it is orcs we must fight to get them back.”

“Yes! These so-called orcs,” counters one of the King’s advisors. “You claim they are from Moria, and that one of them looked like the defiler. The defiler whom you said was dead!”

“I saw him!” Dís bursts out, pounding her fist on the arm of her chair. “I would know that ugly face anywhere! He took my brother! He killed our grandfather! I know Azog the defiler, and don’t you dare tell me that I do not!”

“Lady Dís, peace,” Gandalf intervenes, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. He hears one of the hobbits scoff, “Lady, he says,” and he glares in their direction. 

"I believe Lady Dís,” he tells them. “For I have seen and sensed a stirring in the east. On my journey through the North Downs, I saw with my own eyes a large white orc of the same description as Azog the defiler. It was him, I say, and if you doubt the word of a wizard then say so, though suspect you will not. I said nothing of it, for I was not sure until the dwarrow gave their testimony of the attack, but now there is no doubt in me at all – Azog has returned, and I fear he is not alone.”

The Arthedain King had so far listened silently, but now he sits up and leans toward Gandalf with his brow furrowed in concern. “Do you believe there is any truth in the rumors?”

“What rumors?” asks Mirabella. It is echoed by many of the hobbits, but for Gerontius, who looks knowing.

Gandalf casts them a stern glance, waiting for quiet. “There has been word of large orc packs, traveling across the downs and menacing settlements, and reports of trolls where they should not be. The Wights are also restless. They are more aggressive and have ensnared those unlucky enough to be out after dark.”

He hears one hobbit gulp, and then turns back to meet the King’s eyes. “The shadow stirs. I sense a great evil that has long been dormant, but which now seeks to wake.”

"Sire! Sire!” a soldier runs into the council room, out of breath. “You must come! They have found the dwarf prince!”

The dwarrow shoot to their feet. “Is he alive?” Dwalin growls.

“Aye,” says the soldier. “He’s near-drowned, but he lives.”

More than just dwarrow hover around Thorin’s bed. Hobbits clutter up the infirmary like so many squabbling children, and Strider must wade through them to come to Gandalf’s side.

“What does he need?” he asks the wizard, who is peering at Thorin intently.

“Nothing,” says Gandalf, pulling back. He turns to Strider but glances at the dwarrow too, in order to include them. “He’s mostly exhausted, but he should wake soon. If not naturally than because hobbits have not the sense nor the common courtesy to be quiet in an infirmary!”

Gandalf is easily overheard, and a few of the hobbits look scandalized but thankfully shut up. Thorin mumurs then, face twitching, and Dís moves to his side. She touches his face, whispering in Khuzdul to coax him awake.

He comes to and is disoriented for a few minutes, blinking up at them, but then quickly becomes agitated.

“Where…where?”

Dís puts a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, brother. You are safe. You’re in Annúminas.”

“Annúminas….”

“Never mind that!” shouts one of Bilbo’s relations. She shoves to the front of the pack and points a gnarled finger in Thorin’s direction. “What have you done with my nephew?!”

The group makes noises of agreement, getting ready to devolve into a proper mob, but Thorin suddenly sits up, his eyes growing wide.

“Bilbo!” he exclaims, and then struggles to get out of bed. He fights with the blankets wrapped around his legs, going so far as to push Dís away when she reaches for him.

“Bilbo was with you?” the hobbits cry.

“They took him,” Thorin pants, shoving at Dwalin now too. “I have to find him. Get out of my way!”

Dís shakes her head, looking frightened. "Thorin, stop this! You cannot get up, you need to rest – ”

“Get off! Bilbo! Bilbo!”

Gandalf sees that the prince is about to become very unruly, and steps forward with his staff raised. He does some wizardry that soothes not only Thorin, but the nervous crowd standing around him as well.

“You cannot go to him now, Thorin,” says Gandalf. “The healer must watch you for a while, to be sure that you are not injured or ill. Be sensible now.”

“Bilbo…” Thorin whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yes, our hobbit.” The wizard moves back, leaning against his staff pensively. “You say that he has been taken?”

Thorin tries to nod, but this seems to pain him. Dís lays a comforting hand on his forehead. “Nazgûl,” says Thorin, and it is so low and so surprising an answer that Gandalf and Strider are sure that they have misheard. But then he says again, “Nazgûl,” and there can be no mistake.

“Black riders?” Strider looks at Gandalf, horrified. “But whatever can they want Bilbo for?”

Gandalf’s frown is fierce, and it creates new lines on his old face. “I imagine that Master Baggins was collateral damage, of sorts. He is an unfortunate victim caught up in the long war between the shadow and Arnor, and perhaps…perhaps the Pale Orc’s plot for revenge as well.”

Thorin moans despondently, and Dís turns to glare at the wizard. “Don’t say that!” she snaps. “You know how he is.”

Gandalf nods, at once looking regretful. “It is not for you to take the blame, Thorin Oakenshield. We have no time for games such as that. Aragorn? A word.”

They move off to the corner of the room that is unoccupied by hobbits, and begin to murmur secretively. Dís watches them for a moment, frustrated, before scooting closer to her brother. “You frightened me,” she says. “Don’t do it again.”

Thorin shakes his head, his black hair fanning out on his pillow. He is falling asleep. “We must find him, sister,” he tells her with drooping eyes.

“We shall,” she assures him, glancing back at Balin and Dwalin worriedly. “I promise. Rest now, Thorin.”

He nods off, unable to stay awake despite his fear for Bilbo. The dwarrow huddle around him protectively, unsure what has happened, or indeed, what will happen now.

Bilbo wakes to snowfall.

He is bundled up on the back of a horse, staring up at a black sky. Flakes of white swirl gently around him, sticking to his hair and face. The horse snorts, and he hears the sharp clopping sound of hooves on stone.

The Nazgûl.

He manages to turn his head, his neck crying out in pain, and look around him as they make slow progress across what looks like a very narrow bridge with a large, dark chasm beneath it. Around him are the shadowy silhouettes of a mountain range. He can see his breath when he exhales anxiously.

The horse suddenly comes to a stop, and Bilbo tries to look past the hulking black rider to see what is happening. The sound of stone and steel grinding together makes his ears ring, and his heart speeds up when they move forward and through a black metal gate. He catches a glimpse of red eyes peering down at him from the turrets, before he gasps and looks away.

Bilbo wiggles a little as the black rider comes to a halt and then dismounts. Hands grab him and slide him off of the horse, and Bilbo goes tumbling to the ground. The sack is torn off of him. He gets to his knees, prepared to run, but is quickly and efficiently lifted up and dragged until he can get his feet underneath him. He looks at where he is for the first time and gasps.

It’s a fortress; a black curtain of steel that to Bilbo’s eyes seems completely impenetrable. He loses track of all the windows and winding towers, loses track of where the dark night sky begins and where the reaching, clawing spires end. They drag him through an ominous looking portcullis and immediately up the closest stairwell. There are orcs behind him too, hustling him forward, and when Bilbo turns his head for one last look behind, he sees the Nazgûl ride back through the gates. He shivers in terror; worried for who he knows they are after now.

He prays that Thorin made it to the capital.

Up the stairs he is pushed and pulled, herded like a mouse between cats, until finally they stop ascending and the orc clawing his arm opens the door to a cell. Bilbo is shoved in without ceremony.

He lands on his knees, skinning them on the damp and dirty stone. It’s freezing.

“Great,” he sighs, turning to sit cross legged and rub his hands up and down his arms. “Just great.”

Despite his less than stellar circumstances, Bilbo can’t help but worry more for Thorin rather than himself. There was no beating the Nazgûl, though they had certainly put up a brave fight. None of Bilbo’s arrows had aimed true (though he is beginning to realize that that was more the fault of dark magic than anything, for Bilbo sensed that the beasts that the Nazgûl rode were tainted with evil; invincible even to an arrow to the heart) and Thorin had met swords with the riders, but could not unseat them. They rode back and forth, striking at the hobbit and the dwarf as they passed – playing with them.

Bilbo knew what had to be done. He’d apologized to Thorin sincerely, but though sorry he hadn’t hesitated. With one great shove, he’d thrown Thorin off the side of the cliff (not a high drop, thankfully) and then had sprinted away and into the forest. The Nazgûl had followed.

Now Bilbo is their prisoner, locked in a cold cell with no food or water. He is terrified and aching from his ordeal, but finds that that he cannot tear his mind away from his fear for his husband. Fear that he had drowned. That Bilbo had killed him.

He chokes down a sob and draws his knees to his chest, trying hard not to cry. Bilbo knows he must be strong for Thorin and focus on getting out of Carn Dûm. And yet that doesn’t stop him from being absolutely terrified of what the night will bring, and for Thorin, who is dead for all the hobbit knows. Let him be alive, Bilbo prays, curling in on himself. He doesn’t know yet, how much I care for him.

No one answers, but still Bilbo prays.

Though he is exhausted and ill, Thorin does not sleep. He is restless – it has been a full day since Bilbo was taken and his unceasing demands to be let up so that he can search for the hobbit have been ignored. No one is doing anything, and Thorin feels as though he is going mad trying to make them listen.

“The truth of the matter, is that they do not trust us,” Dís confesses to him. She is sat at his bedside, looking pale and tired. “Not now. Not ever. They will not let us join their party.”

“He’s my husband,” Thorin says through gritted teeth. “And I am his. They cannot forbid me to do my duty to him.”

Dís does not respond, though the expression on her face is telling enough.  "Gathering an army takes time,“ she reminds him.

"And do we have that time, sister?” he snarls, frustrated. He clenches his fists in his bedsheets, anxiety squirming in the pit of his stomach and angry curses waiting on the tip of his tongue.

Dís puts a hand on his shoulder in comfort, and opens her mouth to reassure him (with false hopes, no doubt) when a hobbit bustles into the infirmary and marches straight for Thorin’s bed. Dís’ hand aborts it’s movement and flies to the hilt of her sword.

“Never mind that,” says the hobbit, waving at Dís. “I’m not here to wallop him, I sort of like the sod.”

“Mrs. Baggins,” Thorin greets. He swallows audibly. “I’m so sorry –”

“Stuff,” she cuts him off. Her auburn curls (so like Bilbo’s) bounce as she puts her hands on her hips, staring at Thorin with narrowed eyes. “I know my son, Master Oakenshield, and he’s as much to blame for this mess as you are.”

Thorin frowns. “Bilbo did nothing wrong! We were attacked – ”

“There, see? Then neither of you are at fault.”

Thorin thinks that he has maybe been tricked.

“But I’m not here to cast stones,” Mrs. Baggins goes on. “I’m here to spring you out of this place so that you can skip all this tedious bureaucracy and save my son sometime in the next age or so.”

Dís mouth twitches. “That all, Mrs. Baggins?”

Bilbo’s mother spares her a smile. Her sharp eyes turn back to Thorin quickly, however. “You’re fond of my son, I think.”

Thorin’s brow furrows. “Of course.”

“Hmph.” She eyes him a moment more before waving a hand. “That will do. Alright, up, get up! I’ve borrowed two horses and some provisions for you down in the stables, only we should probably hurry considering I left Adalgrim on watch. Not my brightest idea, I’ll admit.”

She bustles them out of the infirmary without anymore delay, creeping silently through the halls and leading them through the castle with surprising ease. Thorin sees the same stealth in Bilbo, and so is not too surprised. Dís looks quite impressed though.

They make it down to the stables without incident, and find not only the hobbit named Adalgrim waiting, but Dwalin as well. “Aunt Bella!” the hobbit squeaks. “I’m glad you made it.” He side-eyes Dwalin. “The courtyard is clear.”

“Fantastic. Alright, dwarrow.” She turns to them, watching as Thorin heaves himself into the saddle, still looking a bit wobbly. “Don’t get yourselves killed. Find my son.”

“Aye,” Dwalin says.

Thorin bows his head a bit. “You have my word,” he promises, before turning his horse in the direction of the gates.

With the hobbits watching, they set out in the direction of Angmar, where Bilbo is presumably imprisoned – and where the shadow waits.

Bilbo hears the grating sound of black speech outside of his cell. It has been so long since he has seen another orc besides the one giving him scant amounts of food and water every six hours or so. He has a feeling that his purpose here is about to be explained, and Bilbo cannot tell if he is relieved that the waiting is over, or if he would rather he were left alone to die in his cell. He is anxiously crouched in the corner, dirty and exhausted, when Azog the defiler opens the door.

The pale orc strides in, two underlings shuffling behind him. Their faces are grotesque, rotten and deformed, and Bilbo shies away when he sees them up close.

"Gimbut nazg ta, thrakul dug dûmpat," says one of the orcs in the dark tongue. Bilbo shivers.

"Ska! Snaga krul búbhosh," says the other.

“Sha.” Azog stops them talking and steps forward. “Where is Oakenshield?”

Bilbo gapes a bit. “You…speak Westron?”

Azog sneers, his scarred face twisting upward. He bends down and moves in close to Bilbo. “Where is Oakenshield?”

“No idea,” Bilbo tells him, then clears his throat. “We were separated.”

Azog stares; he examines the hobbit with sharp, cruel eyes. He sniffs Bilbo, as though he were savoring the scent of his favorite meal. Bilbo hunkers down and turns his head away.

“Where does he go? He will come for you, little thing?”

Bilbo holds his breath, trying hard not to show how terrified he really is. “No, he won’t,” Bilbo says. “And I’m not going to tell you anything.”

Azog smiles. “Where?” he asks again.

Bilbo turns and meets the pale orc’s eyes, scowling. “I’m not,” he repeats, slowly. “Telling. you. anything.”

One of the orcs standing by the door curses in black speech, but Azog pays him no mind. He stares at Bilbo intently, eyes never leaving the hobbit’s face. “You will tell me, little thing. Or die.”

Bilbo is not stupid. He knows that Azog could kill him easily; that he could crush Bilbo’s skull with one hand, or tear him in half with both. But the orc is after Thorin – Thorin who is dutiful and strong. Thorin who is endearingly awkward and surprisingly (under that gruff exterior) quite kind. Thorin his friend. Thorin his husband. And Bilbo hates this orc for threatening so good a dwarf.

So he glares defiantly, and says, “bugger off.” 

And alright, Bilbo might be a little stupid.

Azog hits him so hard that Bilbo cuts his lip on his teeth. His head spins and his ears are ringing as he’s dragged to his feet.

“Globûrz,” says Azog, shaking him by the scruff of his neck. "Now you will suffer.”

He motions the two orcs forward with a sharp swipe of his hand. Bilbo backs away, but there is nowhere to go; the cold stone wall is behind him, and the doorway is blocked. Azog smirks at the hobbit one more time, before leaving him alone with the orcs.

They make good time crossing the North Downs. Thorin’s body protests the punishing pace, but the idea of stopping is unimaginable and his companions aren’t as winded as he is, anyway. Their concern is not necessary, and he tells them so, and so they continue to Angmar with no pauses but those they make for the horses. The Downs are cold, and the closer they get to the dark fortress, the worse the weather becomes. Soon snow is falling and the roads are slick with ice.

“We cannot take the horses any farther,” Dís tells him. He sighs heavily, his breath visible in the cold evening air.

“Aye,” he agrees, dismounting. He pets the neck of his horse gratefully, before unloading their saddlebags.

“I’ll be the one to ask then,” Dwalin says gruffly. “How are we going to cross that cursed bridge?”

In the distance, Thorin can see the spires of Carn Dûm. The great chasm between the Downs and the fortress has but one path – that of the bridge made entirely of black ice. Thorin has seen it once in the last war, and the difficulty of crossing it is as infamous as is the impossibility of successfully storming its gates. But Thorin has no choice.

“We must find a way,” Thorin tells him, his tone warning Dwalin not to speak of it anymore. He fears that his friend is thinking the likely truth; that attempting to enter Carn Dûm means only death.

They set out once more, this time on foot, and the dark fortress grows bigger as they draw closer.

“We should rest,” Dís says for the third time. They have not stopped since the day before, and all of them are edging on completely exhausted. “Thorin, we must – ”

“Shush,” Dwalin interrupts, pulling both of them behind a snowbank.

Thorin and Dís wisely stay silent, waiting to see what Dwalin had heard. And there – the sound of steady marching as a number of black specks come into view in the small valley below them.

“The wizard was right,” Thorin sighs. “Let is hope he brings an army behind us.”

There are hundreds of orcs camped on the Downs, and so many more within the gates of Angmar besides. Thorin shares a worried, solemn look with Dís.

“We should stop here,” she repeats.

“We need to find another way in, sister.”

“Yes, and running about willy-nilly isn’t the way to do it. Think, Thorin.”

“Every second we waste….”

But Dwalin decides for them both and begins to set up camp. Thorin knows that once Dwalin has made up his mind that there is no moving him, and so he wisely gives in and moves to help. They do not light a fire, and the wet cold seeps through their boots as they crouch in the snow, but they are used to less than ideal conditions and make do.

As night comes they are no closer to finding a way past the army or into the fortress. Frustration rattles Thorin’s nerves and his temper begins to fray. A harsh cough has come upon him, likely from his time in the lake, and Dís eyes him worriedly as they set up a makeshift tent. They double up on their furs and bedrolls before settling down for some sleep. Dwalin takes first watch.

Thorin coughs himself awake not even two hours later, but cannot fall back to sleep. He climbs out of the tent and Dwalin looks up as he approaches.

“Rest, brother,” he says, placing his hand on Dwalin’s shoulder. “I cannot sleep anymore tonight.”

“You’ll kill yourself if you keep on like this,” Dwalin tells him. “And I’m not going to be the one that tells your hobbit if you do. Rather face a Warg.”

Thorin can’t help but smirk. “The Warg might let you live, yes,” he jokes.

“I mean it, Thorin,” Dwalin insists, looking him in the eye. “From what you’ve told me Master Baggins can take care of himself…which means he’ll be doing his best to survive, and so should you.”

Thorin looks away from his friend, nodding reluctantly. “Go to sleep,” he says after a long silence. “I will keep watch.”

Dwalin gives in and disappears into the tent, and Thorin takes his place on top of the snowbank. The night grows colder as the hours pass, and the time for waking Dís comes and goes. He is wide awake, and knows that his companions need to rest more than he does at the moment. Sleep seems an impossible thing with Bilbo in such danger.

Dawn comes quicker than usual, propelled by Thorin’s pensive inattention. He watches the sky lighten above Angmar, never becoming the blue of a clear day, but only a lighter shade of grey. A fog hovers above the fortress.

It is in the eery hour before true sunrise that Thorin sees significant movement down in the orc camps. He moves forward to peer closer, and his eyes widen as he sees among them a giant orc – one familiar, so very familiar to Thorin Oakenshield. Azog is surrounded by his lesser officers and his ferocious white Warg. They speak, Azog seeming to be giving orders, and Thorin imagines that he can hear the growling, tainted speech of Mordor from here.

Azog suddenly mounts his Warg, and Thorin realizes what is happening almost too late. “Wake!” he hisses to Dís and Dwalin, scrambling to the tent and shoving it away. “Wake!”

“What – ?”

“The Defiler!” Thorin shouts. “He is getting away.”

He pauses only to grab his sword before he sprints down the snowbank and toward Azog’s pack as they lumber slowly in the direction of Carn Dûm. He hears Dís call out behind him, and Dwalin cursing, but he cannot stop – he cannot lose sight of the pale orc.

He cannot lose Bilbo.

Dwalin and Dís fall behind, but he presses on without waiting for them, closing in on the pack quickly. Azog does not seem to be in any kind of hurry though, and Thorin creeps around the edge of the forest, intent on ambushing them. But then the pale orc suddenly halts, raising one clawed hand.

“Oakenshield,” growls Azog, and Thorin goes very still. “Foolish, but it is good you are here. Come out.”

The advantage of surprise lost (did he ever have it in the first place?) Thorin sees no other recourse than facing his enemy head on. As he walks into the clearing, the other orcs back away with excited jeers. Azog smirks at Thorin smugly.

“You have come for your little thing,” he says idly, and Thorin’s heart pounds with fear. “He is not here.”

He points his sword at the orc. “You will tell me where he is, and then I will cut your head from your body.”

“You will try.”

“I’ll succeed.”

Thorin stares into those pale eyes, now unafraid (he cannot afford to be frightened when Bilbo needs him, after all). Azog only stands there and smirks, and Thorin feels rage and hatred swirl inside him as the orc dismounts his pet Warg and steps closer.

“I will enjoy carving my name into your skin, Oakenshield,” Azog says as they begin to circle each other. “And into every Durin after – ”

Thorin attacks swiftly and silently, meeting Azog’s mace with a loud clang. The impact vibrates up his arms as he ducks to the side, striking Azog in the arm and drawing first blood. Azog roars in pain, swinging his weapon around and nearly taking Thorin’s head off.

Around him the orcs spit and jeer, and there is no sign of Dwalin or Dís.

The mace comes flying at his left side but Thorin is able to avoid it. He minds his feet as he retreats backward, Azog on the offense now. The orc is incredibly strong, and seems to have few weaknesses. Thorin goes for his ankles and the backs of his knees, but though Azog cries out in agony, he does not fall.

Sweat runs down Thorin’s face as he evades and attacks, steadily hacking away at the orc but never truly making progress. Azog gets in a jarring hit to Thorin’s shoulder with his mace, and he goes down for a second before scrambling back on his feet. Azog grins toothily at his bloodied arm – prowling closer.

Thorin suddenly hears a shout, and then pained gurgling, and glances over just as an orc falls to the ground seeping black blood. He has no time to wonder at it though, as Azog comes for him again, raising his mace and smashing it into the ground where Thorin had once crouched. He rolls to the side and crashes into something, and looks up just in time to see the teeth of the white Warg descend upon him.

A sword drives through its head before it can take a bite.

Thorin moves out of the way quickly as the Warg collapses, and looks up at his timely rescuer.

Bilbo grins down at him cheekily. “Are you always in need of saving?” he says. “Allow me, princess.”

Thorin only gapes as the hobbit turns to Azog and raises his sword in challenge.

Bilbo doesn’t know any black speech, but he does know when someone is arguing. Arguments are hobbit-y pastimes, after all,  and this particular one is definitely reminiscent of his aunts disagreeing on who did what when or faunts squabbling over who hit who in the head playing conkers and exactly how hard.

He just can’t believe he’s witnessing it now, is all.

“Are you…are you arguing about who gets to torture me, first?” he asks, bewildered. The orcs pay him no mind as the debate grows more and more heated.

Bilbo gets to his feet, and even then the orcs do not push him down. He inches along the wall dubiously, slowly making his way toward the door, when they finally turn and screech at him. Bilbo lunges away from a swinging scimitar, before kneeing the orc in the crotch. He tears the sword out of the wailing creature’s hand and clobbers him on the head with the hilt, before blocking a swipe to the face. Bilbo parries again and comes in close quarters, using his small stature to avoid another hit and creep in close. He quickly stabs the orc through the gut before backing away and letting it fall to the ground.

Bilbo can’t help but laugh a little as he runs out of the cell and slams the door shut. The lock slides into place with a satisfying clank. He is covered in dirt and breathless as he sets off to find a way out, aware that dodging an entire fortress of orcs is nigh on impossible.

But he must try, because Azog has planted a trap for Thorin, and Bilbo refuses to lose the dwarf he has so come to care for, in so little time.

They fight.

Thorin is on his feet once more, and Bilbo is a whirlwind beside him. Azog has motioned his orcs forward, seemingly had enough of their duel. That is good enough for Thorin, because Bilbo is here now, and Bilbo fights with him. Between them, Azog will not get away.

“It is good to see you,” Thorin says as he cuts an orc in the back. There is a bright smile on his face, and it is so uncharacteristic of him that Bilbo blinks a bit.

“And you. I was worried you were going to walk right into a trap! Good thing you were smart enough not to – oh, wait.”

Thorin laughs, parrying another blow and kicking the orc’s leg out from under him. It’s quick work to kill it once it’s on the ground. Then, suddenly, two things happen at once: Dís and Dwalin come charging into the fray and Azog…turns tail and runs.

Bilbo sees him go first and runs off after him, Thorin at his heels. They slip a little in the snow and nearly fall down the snowbank, but manage to keep their feet and sprint after the defiler. Though Thorin and Bilbo are quick, when they break out of the frozen wood they find that their prey has vanished. Bilbo inches toward the edge of the hillside. “So you didn’t come alone,” he comments, turning to smile at Thorin.

Thorin looks where Bilbo points. The orc camp is under attack by the allies of Arthedain, caught unprepared by the army that had thankfully followed Thorin to Angmar. “No,” he agrees, brushing his hand with Bilbo’s. “I suppose I didn’t.”

Azog bursts out of the trees then, his mace coming down and missing Bilbo by a hair. They gasp and tear apart, the hobbit falling to the ground painfully. Thorin charges forward between the orc and Bilbo, blocking the mace from striking them. Furious, Azog presses forward, hitting hard as he pushes them closer to the edge of the hillside.

Bilbo suddenly shouts and stabs his sword into the orc’s back, and Thorin takes the opening and slides underneath his legs, kicking the defiler in the knees and down the hill.

It’s not enough of a drop to kill him, but Azog is winded and does not rise for a few seconds. They are just considering how to make their way down as quickly and as safely as possible when the orc gets to his feet and takes off, limping terribly.

Thorin gives a wordless cry and nearly throws himself off of the hill, but Bilbo stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Wait,” he says, and the hobbit crouches and picks up a good sized rock. He throws it hard in the direction of the fleeing orc.

It hits Azog in the back of neck – felling him.

Thorin turns to his hobbit, his mouth open in surprise, but Bilbo only smiles sheepishly.

“Conkers,” he says with a shrug.

It is an army of Dúnedain, elvish folk, Men, and dwarrow that come to the aid of Arthedain. They manage to push the orcish army back into the shadowlands, clearing the North Downs of their presence for a short time. All of Arnor knows that this is only their first battle, and that Angmar’s rise has not been completely quelled. Not yet, anyway.

Thorin is aware that another war knocks at the door of the kingdom, and that if the dwarrow are to make peace as allies of the Arthedain, they too should be involved. But understandably, Thorin is wary of committing to anything.

Luckily, Bilbo’s return had made them rather accommodating to Thorin, as if to make up for the obvious distress Bilbo’s kidnapping had caused him, and to thank him for saving Bilbo in the end. He relays often that it is the other way around – that it was Bilbo who had saved Thorin – but few believe him.

It is another spot of good news that though Bilbo is bruised and exhausted, he is otherwise unharmed. Regardless, Thorin finds it…difficult, to keep from touching the hobbit to make sure that there were no secret injuries, or just in general to reassure himself that Bilbo is safe.

They….well.

It is different between them now. There is a warmth in Thorin that is both frightening and perfect at the same time. It is a warmth kindled by the presence of the hobbit at his side; at the touch of his fingers through auburn curls and the soft, sweet smile Bilbo gives to him when they meet each other’s eyes.

“You’re stupid,” Dís tells him one night, when she catches him watching Bilbo sleeping in the bedroll beside him. “I’m happy for you, brother.”

Thorin is happy too. Somewhere along this strange journey, he has learned to be just a little selfish, and Bilbo’s safety has become paramount. He finds this both worrisome and exhilarating, for how is he to juggle his duty with his being in love? It is a world-shaking thing, to be in love. It cripples or empowers, and Thorin cannot afford to gamble on which one it will be – not as a prince, a leader, a warrior…

…and a husband.

“When we get home finally,” Bilbo says, riding beside him as they make their way back to Annúminas. “I should like to have a party.”

“A party?” Thorin repeats, already amused.

“Yes. I want to meet everyone. Everyone, Thorin.” He then grows solemn. “I think Gandalf is probably right about all that dramatic shadow business, and dark times are ahead. Our people should be ready.”

Thorin suddenly realizes that Bilbo means the dwarrow of Ered Luin; that Bilbo has decided that Thorin’s responsibility to his people is Bilbo’s responsibility as well. It reminds him of the past – of when his mother and father bore the weight of the crown together. But Thorin had never dreamed that he would have the same chance to rule in such a way. His mother’s death had also nearly broken his father in the end, and Thorin is unsure whether or not the pain of the eventual loss is worth it, especially with the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders.

He looks at Bilbo, who is chattering away about parties and their people, and about finally going home, and he realizes that it is too late – there is no going back now. Thorin will just have to learn to live with being in love.

He’s not too worried though.

Bilbo will be there to teach him.

.

#30 day otp challenge #bagginshield #hobbit fic #I left this open ended because I might actually add to it #maybe

[taowministries-blog]

IN ONE OF TWO DIRECTIONS

My sociology professor once made a profound statement which captivated my attention and would forever resonate in my heart and mind.

"All of our experiences create layers of our self."  -- Anonymous

Hey Christian, Do You Agree Or Disagree?

We live in a world of frenzied entertainment and countless choices. Our culture gives us so many varieties of food, movies, books, and activities to fill our lives with; it’s so easy to treat these choices as if they don’t matter, nonchalantly blowing time on a certain video game, conversation topic, or group of friends.

Furthermore, it’s become easy for us to detach our spiritual walk from these everyday choices. What I mean by this is, as American Christians (or even those of us abroad), we tend to live life like any other person. If we were to compare life choices of someone who claims to follow Christ and one who doesn’t, we may see a few differences: church attendance on Sunday, for example. But that’s only one or two hours, of the 168 hours in a week! That means church only takes up around 1% of their time!

The rest of their lives are generally similar. We all see the same blockbusters. We listen to the same music. We hang out with the same friend groups; who cares if they aren’t Godly influences? For many, our dating and purity standards are no different; so what if my significant other doesn’t love Jesus? For some, even our other habits – whether it be profane word choice, pornography, alcohol/drug usage, or impure media – is the same. And yet, Scripture speaks sharply against this.

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect."  -- Romans 12:2 (ESV)

Why Is It That The Author Of Romans Urgently Warns Us Not To Conform To This World?

It’s because, as my Sociology teacher acknowledged in class today, every single one of our actions or reactions 1) reflect what’s inside of us, and 2) change what’s inside of us. We humans ignorantly imagine we’re impervious to the attractions of the world. But in reality, we are way more moldable than we’d like to think!

In the sermon “Walk by the Spirit: Make It A Habit” given at Christ Commission Fellowship, Pastor Peter Tan-Chi explains the life cycle of the parasite toxoplasma gondii, whose primary host is the cat. A host cat’s feces will get into the soil, along with the parasite. In this fashion, an unsuspecting rat usually becomes infected. It is here that T. gondii shows its cunning; the parasite, infiltrating the rat’s mind, controls it to gain a liking for cat urine. This is a fatal attraction, as when the rat approaches the cat urine, it is eaten. Thus, T. gondii enters the cat’s stomach again, and the cycle repeats. Did the rat ever know that it had been taken over by the parasite? Even up until death, it would never know the name – or even the existence – of what caused its fatal feline urine attraction. This may seem like a far-fetched comparison; like rats playing with dirt, if we humans keep playing with sin, we may one day find ourselves baited to urine (yuck) and eaten by a cat!

Isn’t This How Sin Works?

It twists our minds, attracting us to disgusting things. The fatal misconception we have is that sin exists in levels of sinfulness; it’s easy for us to avoid big sin, because it will affect us more. And it’s easier for us to compromise with, and sometimes flat-out ignore, the minor ones. But isn’t sin subtle and deadly in any shape and form? No matter how much of the T. gondii sin enters our life, it has the potential to completely pervert our mind without us even knowing it. When we break one, it’s as if we’ve broken them all! (James 2:10). To make matters worse, one sin can stumble so many others, and it spreads fast. We can become desensitized to worldliness, and lose our discernment; we can be unable to renew our mind, even unable to know the will of God! Going back to the previous example of friend groups, even this seemingly trivial choice brings dire consequences. Keep in mind that being attracted to the wrong crowd helped kill Samson (Judges 16), turned Lot’s wife to salt (Genesis 19:26), and really hurt many other Bible characters.

"Do not be deceived: 'Bad company ruins good morals.'"  -- 1 Corinthians 15:33 (ESV)

My point isn’t to be lame, ban movies, or shun a certain group of friends. I enjoy movies, and many of them have examples of good – and not so good – examples, both of which we can learn from. Video games can be fun, especially when played with friends. And in fact, God wants us to “become all things” to relate to others; Christ cared for sinners, and we should be intentional about spreading the Gospel to them (1 Corinthians 9:22, Mark 2:17). The point is, we need to be very careful of our attitudes and connections towards certain things, and we must watch how they are affecting our spiritual walk with Christ.

But once again, many Christians make a common mistake here. It isn’t only doing bad things that we must watch out for; the good things that we should do, yet don’t, are way more sinister. These are called “sins of omission.” Here’s one example:

"Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters."  -- Matthew 12:30 (ESV)

When Do We Gather With Christ?

The most obvious and essential ones I can think of are 1) prayer and 2) scripture. Looking at our lives, Christians, how many of us put these as our #1 priority in our hearts and schedules? I’ve heard it said that if we go to church and call ourselves followers of Christ, but don’t have prayerful or scriptural lives, we are kidding ourselves; we are playing a spiritual game and do not have the “personal relationship with Jesus Christ” like we mention so lightly. Requiring scripture and prayer isn’t legalism. It’s common sense. How can we have a deep relationship with someone we barely talk to, and only call when He has something that we want? Just like how we throw the title “best friend” around without meaning it, we also throw around the title “Lord and Savior” without meaning it. We may be gradually scattering abroad from Him – and even fighting against the man we call Lord – even now.

"The safest road to hell is the gradual one - the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts."  -- C. S. Lewis

Whenever I hear this quote, it makes me shudder. Everything we’ve mentioned is easily minimized and deemed unimportant; however, it’s on this hidden battlefield that the Devil, the world, and our sinful nature wage war against the Spirit inside of us. The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis illustrates the subtlety of the battle beautifully.

You see, it’s been said that “the Devil’s greatest lie is convincing people he doesn’t exist.” There is another lie that’s just as bad: the Devil has horns, is flaming red, has a pitchfork and tail, sits on your shoulder opposite a fluffy cute angel, suddenly pops onto TV screens to scare and possess people, has creepy powers, and sticks to what Hollywood says he is.

In reality, Scripture says that Satan “masquerades as an angel of light” (2 Corinthians 11:14). Contrary to popular belief, Satan has the appearance of righteousness, but his actions are deceitful. Satan is not characterized by in-your-face evil. Satan is characterized by hiding behind a mask of mediocre goodness, fooling people as they slowly slip and slide down to hell. Did he not do this to Adam and Eve, fooling them with an appearance of serpentine wisdom?

But here’s a provoking thought: when we claim to be good, righteous Christians who are in a personal relationship with Christ, and yet our lifestyle choices look like just the opposite, are we acting any different than the demons? After all, this was the Pharisees’ fatal error too. These are the religious hypocrites that Jesus rebuked, saying “You are of your father the Devil… for he is a liar and the father of lies” (John 8:44).

"You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe and shudder! Do you want to be shown, you foolish person, that faith apart from works is useless?"  -- James 2:19-20 (ESV)

Even James, the scriptural author and half-brother of Jesus, makes this comparison; even though it sounds completely controversial, it’s completely scriptural. Many of us reading this will object, saying “But wait! I have faith in Christ! You can’t judge me!” However, the Bible answers this directly.

"If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us."  -- 1 John 1:6-10 (ESV)

With our sin nature, we can easily lie, deceive ourselves, and make Jesus look like a liar. No wonder people sometimes call Christians hypocritical. Let’s not fall into this trap! Evidently, we need to reevaluate what Christian-ness – or, rather, “Christ-like-ness” – looks like. We must represent our Savior better. The way to approach this, I believe, is nicely worded by iconic bearded wizard, Gandalf.

"Saruman believes it is only great power that can hold evil in check, but that is not what I have found. I've found it is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay... small acts of kindness, and love."  -- Gandalf (The Hobbit)

Hey Christian! In Our Lives, God Has Not Called Us To Save The World. That’s Christ’s Job.

But then again, God has not called us to slack off and abuse the grace we’ve been given. Our mission is to live our lives – from the smaller tasks, to the bigger choices – constantly walking in the Spirit. From helping someone in a very small way to sharing Christ, the world is in dire need of people whose small deeds can “keep the darkness at bay.” Secular thought calls this “random acts of kindness.” For the Christian, however, they are not random; they exist so the world may see these good deeds and glorify our Father in Heaven (Matthew 5:16). We are empowered to do this only in Jesus’ death and resurrection, through the power of the Holy Spirit.

And if you’re reading this and feeling a little bummed out, it’s okay; we’re all in the same boat. It’s totally true that we are not saved by works, but by grace through faith (Ephesians 2:8)! All have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory (Romans 3:23), but if you surrender your whole life to Christ, you will be forgiven! When we fall, God is always willing to restore our relationship with Him. But instead of abusing this radical grace (Romans 6:1), it should drive us to live worthy of such a calling and gospel (Ephesians 4:1, Philippians 1:27). This means living for Christ in every single way possible!

In Conclusion

What my Sociology teacher said is true; all of our experiences affect us. There is no neutral ground. In the end, you can live life in one of two directions: running towards Christ, or running away from Him. You can give Him your all, or you can give him nothing. Which will you choose today?

"For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’"  -- Matthew 25:35-40 (ESV) "Let what you say be simply ‘Yes’ or ‘No’; anything more than this comes from evil."  -- Matthew 5:37 (ESV)

My prayer is that we would reevaluate our lives, choosing to make even our smallest choices righteous and above reproach. And from this integrity should flow a heart for others, like the one our Savior has for us.

#decisions #motives