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ironmandeficiency · 9 months

Text

the hobbit + hozier songs

characters included: kíli, bilbo, dwalin, thorin, nori, bofur, ori, fíli, dori, tauriel

word count: 1166

a/n: the amazing and precious @wordbunch inspired me to write these bc of her lotr/th characters as taylor swift songs posts & i couldn't be more excited to finally post this labor of love!! thank you bestie for listening to me scream abt this for nearly two months lol

kíli: foreigner’s god

he loves outside of his race and this fact causes undue scorn to be thrown at his feet. it’s unheard of for almost any dwarf, let alone one from the line of durin, to do such a thing. this does not deter him - it empowers him; if his heart could go against the traditions forged into his bones, molten in his hot blood, how could it not be true? the strength of his love is what helps him ignore the doubts shouted by the prejudice plaguing those who know nothing of his heart. that, and the sound of your laughter at his antics, the soft smiles only given to him when he’s being a little too charming… he could go on.

bilbo: like real people do

as much flack as bilbo gets from the company for not being conventionally tough, he’s not weak by any means. he’s familiar with the pain of loss, and how the ways one tries to rise above the grief that follows aren’t always savory. he knows there’s a respect to be found in the absence of prying questions, choosing simply to coexist in the feelings and allow answers to come in their own sweet time. he’ll put some tea on to cook and scrounge up some leftovers from the previous meal, sitting beside you and letting the comfort flow naturally, his soft lips soothing the most tender aches.

dwalin: work song

just looking at him, you wouldn’t think dwalin a sap. but with his insanely strong sense of loyalty and stalwart dedication, he can’t be anything but. he’s faced down innumerable evils in his time, braved the fiercest of storms that many of his comrades didn’t; none of them even come close to keeping him from you. your arms welcome him home without question after each fight he braves, and your letters tucked into secret compartments in his armor keep him warm between embraces. he’ll read them by the fire every night when he’s away, every gentle word carrying his mind away from thoughts of the day’s turmoil.

thorin: sedated

this sweet, sad man doesn’t think he deserves good things in life. this, unfortunately, includes having someone love him despite his flaws and past mistakes. he couldn’t resist admitting his feelings for you and was ridiculously shocked that you reciprocated & allowed him to love you. on nights when he feels his failures deeper, he’ll try to convince you that he doesn’t deserve you. vitriol will escape from worried lips and terrified heart, piercing you in the way only a lover knows how. a soft kiss, gentle words, and a few strokes through his hair will soothe these wounds from him for a time and allow him some of the peace he’s fought to find, but doesn’t always believe is earned.

nori: it will come back

it was decades since the last time nori thought of love, even longer since he believed himself worthy of it. meeting you only solidified his disbelief; how could someone look at him and see someone that deserved such a pure thing, after everything he’s done in his life? he’s stolen, lied, cheated, and killed to survive (and sometimes not for mere survival). his attempts to spurn you away from him only increased your determination to break through the fortress he built around himself. he could only be strong against your advances for so long before he crumbled, reluctantly accepting the love and peace and safety you offered so freely.

bofur: nobody

bofur’s done a lot in his time. he was born in the blue mountains, a colony that never seemed to find the prosperity needed to do more than simply survive. he is a brother, uncle, cousin, friend, toymaker, miner, member of the great company that reclaimed erebor. but through all his adventures and hardships, he never lost his playful streak. he wants to have fun with who he loves, wants a little bit of mischief to make his laugh louder and brighter. bofur is a fun-loving soul who, despite his wandering past, will always choose you over anywhere that you’re not.

ori: francesca

ori’s life has never been a peaceful one. being raised by dori and being followed by the whispers of his late amad’s reputation (not to mention nori’s) without a mountain to call home, it weighed on his shoulders. even his craft, the pride of every dwarrow worth their beard, happened to be one seen as miniscule in importance compared to smithing. every moment spent with his one, doing anything or nothing at all, eases the burden he carries and makes every moment of strife worth it just to be with the soul made to mirror his.

fíli: i, carrion (icarian)

your love for him seems almost too good to be true, the remnants of stories told in dusty tomes written by those with far more eloquence than he can claim to possess. that being said, he is definitely not one to look a gift boar in the mouth. he relishes in each tender moment, every second spent in your presence that carries him far beyond the constraints life has placed upon him. but he recognizes that life isn’t always so simple, retreating into your arms and wishing that everything around you both just disappears. there’s always reality, waiting patiently outside of your chambers for one faulty misstep to throw you both askew. that’s why he dedicates himself to showing you that if life does what it does best and deals harsh blows, he will be there for you through it all.

dori: shrike

dori never had time for love; he had two brothers to protect, one more wily than the other was young. his focus was on getting his brothers through the days, putting food on their plates and the semi-frequently used stash of bail money well-stocked. he allowed his feelings for his one to fall to the wayside in the name of preservation. he ignored their call for decades and braved out the pain that came with such a silence. he begged for his one’s forgiveness every time they called for him. but once the mountain was reclaimed and his brothers safe, he yearned for what he could have had. he would approach his one with much regret and sorrow for the time lost, but a pure hope that they could find forgiveness in their heart for him.

tauriel: unknown/nth

to earn her love is a feat unlike that which the world has known for a long time. being seen as worth all these mortal struggles and painful toils in the eyes of an elf, let alone one as fierce as tauriel, is quite the achievement to anyone outside looking in. to the red-haired warrior in question, though, giving her love to you has the same unthinking ease as breathing; it’s beyond instinct to do and just as necessary to her survival. you’re worth every century spent alone, every moment after knowing you spent away from you.

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runesandramblings · 10 months

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Violent Delights

Word Count: 6200

Pairings: Kili x reader

Warnings: Unhappy arranged marriage but nothing violent or abusive

Description: A forbidden romance blossoms between King Thranduil's arranged bride to be and the Prince of Erebor. (Loosely inspired by Romeo & Juliet without the death part.)

Will make a part 2 if you guys want it. :)

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which as they kiss consume.

The breeze felt wonderful against your skin after being indoors for so long. You inhaled deeply, allowing the fresh scent of the forest to fill your lungs as you relished in the sounds around you. The chirping birds, the rustling leaves… The walls you’d been kept behind were quiet, far too quiet for your taste. You were used to the sounds of life in the forest, and to be surrounded by the familiar noises once again filled you with delight.

“Lady (Y/N), we should probably get back.”

Temporarily, at least.

You turned to look back at your escort. Tauriel, the captain of King Thranduil’s guard, had been reassigned as your personal escort the day you’d arrived. She was around your age, both of you quite young for elves, and in spite of the differences in your position she’d grown to be a close friend. Your only friend, really.

“You don’t have to call me that.” You reminded her once again.

She smiled, and you knew she would continue no matter how many times you told her otherwise.

“You are a lady, are you not? Soon to be the queen?”

You grimaced at the reminder.

“Unfortunately.” You muttered under your breath. It was probably loud enough for her to hear, but you didn’t care. She was well aware of your feelings on the arrangement.

You had not come to the kingdom under your own will. Your father, a high lord of another elven kingdom, had desired an alliance between your people and the much more powerful elves of Mirkwood. In exchange for protection and trade agreements, he’d offered King Thranduil your hand. You were both surprised the king had actually accepted, and as soon as word arrived of his agreement to the terms you’d been sent off to Mirkwood the very same afternoon.

It was well known to many that the king had tragically lost his wife in a battle against orcs many years before. You were as shocked as anyone that he’d agreed to marry again, after he’d been intentionally alone for so many years. Upon your arrival he had been quick to inform you that the marriage was one purely of convenience, as your people had much to offer Mirkwood. Outside of that one conversation, you had not spent any time alone with the king. You’d not spent any time with him at all, really. Aside from the occasional dinner, which was also usually attended by his son, you had only seen Thranduil a handful of times since you’d arrived in Mirkwood a month before.

He was not unkind. From the small interactions you’d had with him he did not appear to be cruel or malicious. You sensed his hardened exterior had a lot to do with the loss of his first wife, and you could not fault him for that. For the most part since your arrival you had been left to your own devices within the walls of the kingdom. Thranduil had given you your own private chambers. They were large and luxurious, with the finest silken tapestries and hand carved furniture you could imagine. Your time was yours alone, as the king never sought an audience with you, and you spent it as you pleased. You’d grown close to Tauriel very quickly, and Thranduil’s son Legolas was also good company.

Though you could hardly complain about the lavish treatment and unending free time, it had grown into a lonely existence. Your chambers, though massive, felt cold and empty without someone to share it with. You’d explored every nook and cavern of Mirkwood, read every book and parchment in the library, and quickly grew tired of the same mundane routine you’d fallen into. Which, subsequently, led to your trip outside of the kingdom walls with Tauriel.

Speaking of Tauriel. You felt her step closer to you as she whispered in your ear.

“It could be far worse, (Y/N). I know this is not what you wanted, but Thranduil is a fair and noble man. You will have a good life here.”

You knew she was right. As a highborn lady in your home kingdom, you’d watched many friends married off to unsavory men over the years. Of all the arrangements you could have ended up with, you’d been matched to the King of Mirkwood. You knew you would live a good life, a luxurious life. But you also knew you were walking into a loveless marriage, and the prospect of being alone pained you. Elves lived long lives, and you couldn’t imagine being a wife in name only for a thousand years or longer. You desired love and true companionship.

As you looked back at her, nodding your head in resignation of the truth you knew she spoke, she gestured over her shoulder towards the direction of the gate. Time to return. You relented in defeat, following her as she began winding her way back through the woodland trails. The forest was safe now, the spiders having been driven off for good shortly after the Battle of the Five. The king was still reluctant to allow anyone to leave, and it had taken some persuasion on Tauriel’s part to get him to allow the adventure. You hoped he would consent to regular walks in the forest, so long as you didn’t try to abuse the privilege. He did not strike you as a controlling man, but he was certainly protective of his kingdom and those within it.

You took one last, deep breath of the fresh air before you stepped through the heavily guarded doors behind Tauriel. As you turned to say your goodbyes for the evening, you were approached by a taller, dark haired elf. You recognized him as one of Thranduil’s personal servants as he bowed before you.

“Lady (Y/N), the king has requested an audience.”

You looked between the messenger and Tauriel, unable to hide the expression of surprise that crossed your features. Thranduil had sent for you?

Tauriel nodded politely to you as she bowed, dismissing herself as the servant gestured for you to follow him.

“You know where to find me should you need me, my lady.” She said before turning and departing.

You followed the servant down the winding corridors, through the only passageways you were still unfamiliar with in the kingdom. As you and Thranduil had separate chambers and living spaces, you hadn’t had cause to explore the areas surrounding his rooms. You were surprised to find he had summoned you into his private quarters, rather than his throne room or the dining hall you semi-frequently gathered in.

The servant came to a halt in front of a large set of ornate doors and he knocked once before opening it, gesturing for you to step through. You stepped inside and the doors closed behind you. The servant didn’t follow you in, and as you continued on alone your mind raced with the possibilities of why Thranduil might have requested to speak with you.

You were surprised to find his chambers were not much more lavish than your own. He’d clearly spared no expense on your living quarters, as his shared the same style of furniture and tapestries as yours did. The only visible difference you could detect was that his rooms were just a slight bit larger than yours. As you rounded the corner into the main living area you found the king at last. He was standing with his back to you, and as you approached he did not turn to greet you. You stopped a few yards away from him, standing awkwardly with your hands clasped together. He was a king, after all, and you were uncertain if you should speak first. Surely he’d heard you enter.

After several long moments of silence, Thranduil finally spoke.

“How have you been finding the kingdom?” He asked, his back still turned to you. His arms moved as he spoke, and from behind it looked as though he were fidgeting with something on the table he stood before.

“Fine, your majesty.” You said quietly, not bothering to elaborate. You didn’t think he’d care too much for the details anyway.

“Have you been treated well?” He continued, still not turning to face you.

“Yes, your majesty.”

“You may call me Thranduil.” He finally turned, holding two goblets of red wine in his hands. He handed you one and took a long sip from his own before continuing. “We are to be wed, after all. Even if it is merely an arrangement.”

You nodded wordlessly as you accepted the glass. You remained silent, uncertain of what to say. He paused for a moment before he pivoted on his heel and began to walk back in the direction he’d come.

“I have received an invitation from King Thorin.” As he spoke he paced around the room, sipping from his goblet. It was clear he was as uncertain of what to do in your presence as you were in his. “They are holding a celebration in honor of the anniversary of Erebor’s reclamation. Would you care to attend with me?”

That was surprising. Despite the joint effort it took between the dwarves and elves to defeat the orc armies, they were still not on the best of terms. Thorin had, after all, attempted to keep the elves’ jewels to himself and nearly started a war between the two clans as a result. There was an uneasy peace between the two, now that the dwarves resided in the mountain once again, and you were surprised that Thranduil would be willing to travel all that way to be in the company of dwarves.

“Yes your ma- Thranduil.” You quickly corrected yourself.

He paused and turned to look at you, though he did not make a move to step closer.

“I do not expect love to grow between us.” He said flatly. “But we should be able to tolerate each other, should we not?”

You nodded.

“Yes, I would say so.”

He nodded in return as he held his wine glass out, indicating a toast.

“Very well then. We leave in one week's time.”

The journey from Mirkwood to Erebor had taken two days, and with the lavish way in which Thranduil liked to travel it was not an uncomfortable trek as you’d anticipated. You arrived at the mountain kingdom well rested, and rather excited at the prospect of a feast. From what the king had explained of dwarvish parties he remembered from the late King Thror’s time, the feast could go on for days. You would be arriving at the tail end of the celebration, as Thranduil had planned. Dwarves were apparently a rambunctious bunch, and as Thorin had requested Thranduil stay and tour the mountain afterwards he had not wanted to spend more time with them than he needed.

Erebor was as magnificent as you’d been told. It was amazing how the mountain had been transformed and rebuilt in merely a year's time. Though you were used to the splendor of elven realms, as both Mirkwood and your birth home were lavish and beautiful, there was something awe-inspiring about the kingdom under the mountain. The halls were endless, sprawling on in either direction as far as your eyes could see. The ceilings were impossibly high, and despite the kingdom being built into the side of a mountain there seemed to be an abundance of light flowing from any given direction. To look down at the winding staircases that led deeper into the heart of the mountain would make you dizzy, if you stared too long. The stone walls were carved and inlaid with intricate designs of gold and silver, telling the tales and the history of the line of Durin. You had studied many languages, and Khuzdul was one you were somewhat familiar with. You’d found yourself stopping every few feet along the walk to your chambers to read the inscriptions on the walls.

Legolas, Tauriel, and a handful of others had made the journey along with yourself and Thranduil. The dwarves had spared no luxury for your group, as you’d each been housed in your own private chamber within the mountain. Dwarvish extravagance was very different from that of your elven home. Where the elves valued natural elegance, which involved a lot of carved wood and intricate silks, the dwarves had more of a rugged taste. Your rooms consisted of chiseled stone furniture and fixtures, inlaid with even more gold and a number of jewels you had never laid eyes on before. Though it was very different from your home in Mirkwood, it still felt comfortable and welcoming.

The dwarf servant that had been assigned to your care had asked what could be provided to make your stay more enjoyable, and she was delighted at your request for books to read later in the evening. She seemed impressed at your ability to read and understand Khuzdul, as many elves didn’t care or bother to learn the language of the dwarves. You’d noticed the air of arrogance Thranduil and Legolas, and even Tauriel, had displayed since your arrival, and you made it your mission to change the dwarves’ opinion of elves, even if the others chose not to do the same.

After resting and dressing for dinner, you’d met Thranduil and the others in the hall. He extended his arm out to you automatically, as though it were expected rather than something he cared to do. You’d accepted it regardless. As you walked along he did not look down at you, or even acknowledge your dress or appearance for the event. Was this the life you were destined for? Emotionless, cold… Doing things merely out of duty and not from love? You felt your heart sink as you walked along beside the king. It was a lonely existence.

The feast was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was chaos. There were long, sprawling tables lined with food and more dwarves than you could count. As you watched, food flew from every side of the room, ale spilled across the tabletops and onto the floor, and dwarves moved about, falling over themselves and each other. It was clear the drinking had been going on for much longer than the actual feast.

“They behave like animals.” Thranduil muttered under his breath.

Despite having never been in the company of dwarves before, you found yourself surprisingly unbothered by their behavior. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, which was more than you could say for your royal escort. It was certainly more rambunctious than any elvish party you had ever attended, but at least they were having a good time.

As your party approached a large table at the head of the room, one of the dwarves stood to greet you. He was dark haired with a matching dark beard. Streaks of gray peppered both his long hair and speckled his face, and with the gold and emerald crown atop his head you took him to be the king. As he stood he extended his hand in a greeting.

“King Thranduil.” He bowed his head out of respect to the elven king as he placed his hand across his chest. “We are pleased you could make the journey.”

Thranduil nodded tightly in return, also bowing his head to Thorin to your surprise.

“King Thorin.” He said politely, though you could hear the hint of tension in his voice. “This is my betrothed, Lady (Y/N). You’ve met my son, Prince Legolas.”

Thorin nodded at you both before gesturing to the dwarves seated on either side of him. On one side sat a woman, with dark hair similar to his own. They shared a stark resemblance, down to the neatly trimmed beard she wore as well. On his other side sat a younger dwarf, who also matched the seeming familial resemblance to the other two. He had wavy, golden hair with braids woven through. His braided mustache bounced as he nodded his head in respect.

“A pleasure, my lady. My prince. This is my sister, Lady Dis. My nephew and heir, Prince Fili. My other nephew will be joining us shortly.” As he spoke he gestured to two empty seats on the opposite side of the prince. “King Thranduil, would you and your betrothed join us at the head table?”

Your eyes traveled to the spot down from the empty spaces. You recognized the king of the newly rebuilt city of Dale, Bard. The one who had been responsible for slaying Smaug, if you remembered the story correctly.

Thranduil’s increasingly strained smile caught your attention from the corner of your eye, and you couldn’t help but smirk a bit in response. You knew the last thing he’d wanted for the evening was to be sandwiched between the dwarves he still wasn’t overly fond of and the humans he held in equal disdain. However you knew his kingly pride would not allow him to turn down the offer. You, on the other hand, were excited to continue on with your mission of making the dwarves see the elves in a better light.

“We’d be honored.” He said, forcing an even larger fake smile. As another dwarf servant appeared and escorted Legolas and the others to their table, Thranduil gestured for you to choose your seat first. Unable to resist the humor of making the king even more uncomfortable, you opted for the seat next to Bard, leaving Thranduil no choice but to sit and make conversation with the dwarven king and prince.

“It’s a pleasure, my lady.” King Bard said as you sat, extending his hand to help you into your seat. “I was not aware that King Thranduil had taken a bride.”

“It’s a new development.” You said, quickly attempting to divert the conversation away from your engagement. “How is the work on the city going?”

As the two of you made light conversation and exchanged pleasantries, speaking of the rebuild of Dale and the newly reformed relations between dwarves, elves, and men, you began to lose track of time. Several courses came and went, and ale and wine continued to flow freely. Though the elvish tolerance made your kind more resistant to the influence of alcohol, the steady refilling of your goblet as you chatted and sipped away had your head spinning before you’d realized what had happened. You began to feel warm, and as you breathed in and out your corset suddenly felt overwhelmingly restrictive around your chest.

Air. You needed air.

Without thinking you turned to your fiance, grabbing his arm in an attempt to get his attention.

“Thranduil.”

He turned to you, and as his eyes met yours his brief look of annoyance quickly turned into one of concern as he noticed your flushed and panicked face.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, and you were surprised to find that he actually appeared to be worried for your wellbeing.

You nodded in reassurance, not wanting to cause a scene as you felt the eyes of Bard and Thorin also turning to you.

“I’m just feeling a bit warm, I think I’m going to step out for a moment.”

Thranduil gave a small nod in return, and you quickly stood and excused yourself from the table.

You were uncertain of where to go, as you’d only arrived in the mountain earlier that day and had not had a chance to get to know your way around. The way back to your room felt somewhat familiar, and you decided a quick stroll there and back might help clear your head. As you wove through the crowd, deftly avoiding numerous drunk and stumbling dwarves, you found that a makeshift dance floor had formed directly in front of the entrance, and only exit, to the great hall. You were unfamiliar with the dwarvish music, but it was much softer and merrier than you expected. Dozens of couples twirled around, following footwork that was unknown to you but something they seemed to know by heart. You were transfixed for several moments, watching them move about with an ease and grace that you didn’t know came so naturally to dwarves. After a few minutes you remembered your desire for some air, and decided you’d still like a short break from the commotion before you returned to the table. You tried to move nimbly along the outskirts of the dance floor, trying to avoid crashing into dancing dwarves as you stayed as far out of the way as possible. As you turned back to watch momentarily, still intrigued, you felt yourself collide solidly with another body. Before you had the chance to correct your footing you found you were falling backward. You braced yourself for the impact, but before your body could crash into the stone floor a pair of arms wrapped tightly around you, and you felt yourself being pulled into a broad chest.

Your gaze turned forward, looking for the source of your rescue in order to thank whoever had saved you from splitting your head open. As your eyes searched the space in front of you they spotted the top of a head of brown hair; the person to whom it was attached stood a few inches shorter than you. It was a dwarf, if you had to guess. He was still cradling you tightly against him, as though he anticipated you might fall backward again at any moment. You felt his grasp loosen as he leaned back to look up at you, though his arms still remained wrapped around your body.

He was young. The difference in how dwarves and elves aged was unfamiliar to you, but judging by his lack of a beard and softer features you assumed he was not an elder. He had wavy brown hair that was pulled partially back, save for a few loose strands and a fringe of bangs that framed his face and a pair of dazzling brown eyes. Though he lacked the fuller beard and mustache that most dwarves wore he did have a sprinkling of stubble across his face. The lack of a beard allowed you to fully appreciate his chiseled jawline and lips, the latter of which currently sported a wide grin. He was quite handsome, and you couldn’t help but stand and stare down at the stranger for several long moments.

Too long, you realized. How long had you been standing in silence, staring at the nameless man? It would surely look bad if anyone from your party came strolling by.

“I’m sorry sir-” You started. As you stuttered out an apology you moved to step backward, and subsequently tripped again. The young dwarf immediately grasped your arm tighter to steady you and you felt a blush creep into your cheeks in response. So much for the grace and elegance of the elves.

“The fault was entirely mine, my lady.” He said in return, his kind smile widening at your flustered speech and clumsiness. He didn’t appear to be bothered by your awkwardness; on the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it. His touch lingered on your arm, ensuring you would not fall again before he slowly released his grasp.

“I’d hardly say so, you were merely walking by and I was not watching where I was going.” Despite your embarrassment you felt a smile spread across your face as well. The kind twinkle in his eyes was contagious, and you quickly felt your fluster fade the longer the two of you spoke.

“Well if you’re so inclined to make amends, you can honor me with a dance.” As he spoke he extended his hand toward you, and in the same motion he nodded his head toward the mass of dancing bodies. The music had slowed to something much less upbeat, something you were sure even you could keep up with.

You paused. The nameless man had intrigued you, that was for certain. But would dancing with a random dwarf enrage your royal fiance? You craned your neck to look back in the direction of the table you had been sat at with Thranduil and the other royals, but from your position near the dance floor you could not see them. Which meant more than likely they could not see you either. Even so, would it really be that big of a deal? You were supposed to be making peace, after all.

“That seems only fair.” You said as you turned back to face him. As you accepted his outstretched hand he grasped it tightly, as if he were afraid you’d disappear, and pulled you to the floor.

The two of you came to a halt in the middle of the mass of bodies. You were surrounded by other dancing pairs on every side, safely hidden away from any watchful eyes. As you rested your hand on his shoulder and entwined the fingers of your free hand with his you felt his other hand rest on your hip. The light touch sent a wave of goosebumps up the side of your body. It was more contact than you’d ever had with the man who was supposed to become your husband. Every point of contact your body had with the stranger felt as though it were on fire.

Seeming to know you were unfamiliar with the music he took the lead, tugging you gently back and forth until you became comfortable with the simple steps of the dance. You swayed together for a few moments, neither speaking but simply watching each other in a comfortable silence. Though he was a bit shorter than you it was not by much. He stood at eye level with your nose, and you wondered if he were tall for a dwarf, or if you were short for an elf. Thranduil and the others had towered over Thorin, so you expected it was the latter. You had often been one of the smaller elves wherever you’d gone.

“So you are not from the Iron Hills, I take it.” He grinned up at you as he finally spoke, stating the obvious. There were many physical differences between elves and dwarves, but if your ears and impossibly long hair had not given you away your dress certainly would have. The high-necked and fitted gowns of the dwarven women were a stark contrast to the lower cut and flowing gowns of the elves.

“I am not.” You confirmed.

“Are you from Mirkwood?” He continued.

“I am living in Mirkwood, but I am from somewhere farther.”

“And are all the elves as graceful as you?” He asked. As he spoke he attempted to keep a serious face, as though it were a genuine inquiry. He failed, and before you had the chance to respond to his prodding a smirk broke through his stoic expression.

“Well I’ve often suspected I’m not entirely an elf.” You said matter-of-factly, playing along with his teasing. “Grace has never been my strong suit.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I didn’t know my mother. My father does not speak of her. And as you’ve so keenly pointed out, I do lack the natural elegance of the elves.” Why were you telling him this? You’d only just met the man, and yet you found yourself spilling out the innermost things you’d only ever wondered to yourself.

“And the height.” He quipped, confirming your earlier thoughts. “But you are no less stunning.”

You felt a warmth spread across your face, and you were certain you’d blushed a scarlet red. He was more forward than you were used to, and although you enjoyed the company of the cheeky dwarf you were also an engaged woman. To a king, no less. You’d become lost in the conversation, fully absorbed in the moments shared with the handsome stranger. To the point you had almost forgotten you were still in the center of a crowded dance floor. You realized the two of you had stopped moving and instead stood staring at each other again. His eyes were mesmerizing. His fringe of bangs had fallen partially to cover them, and you felt yourself drawn to reach forward and brush them away.

“Are you from Erebor?” You quickly asked, sidestepping his compliment. “Or have you traveled for the celebration?” You turned your gaze to the couples around you and tugged on his hand, indicating you should start moving again.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see his lopsided grin return, fully aware that you’d avoided the second part of his earlier statement. He followed your lead and began to sway with you, though you noted his grip had tightened on your hip.

“I live here.”

“Did you live here before the…” You trailed off, uncertain of how the dwarves spoke of the years the mountain stood uninhabited. Was it a sore subject still?

“Before the dragon?” He finished. “No. Why do I look that old?” His eyebrows furrowed together as he spoke, his expression unreadable.

You’d offended him.

“N- no. You don’t. I didn’t- I mean-” You felt your face flush red again as you stumbled over your words. Of course he couldn’t have been old enough to have lived through Smaug. Could he?

He laughed.

“I’m only joking.” He assured you. As he spoke he stopped moving again, and gestured over his shoulder to the exit you’d been attempting to make it to before. “Would you like to take a walk? I could show you around a bit while everyone is in here. The halls will be empty”

You felt a flutter run through your stomach at the prospect of being alone with the mystery man. It was a feeling you’d never experienced with Thranduil, and expected you never would. You checked over your shoulder again, still unable to see the head table from where the two of you stood. But again, would it be so bad? Accepting a tour of the kingdom from a dwarf? You had made it your mission to change their view of the elves, after all. You wordlessly nodded, accepting his invitation, and he grinned widely in return as he took your hand and led you nimbly through the crowd.

The halls of Erebor appeared impossibly larger while empty. The stranger led you up and down staircases, pointing out different areas of the kingdom and showing you various repairs that had been completed in order to reverse the damage done by the dragon. As you walked together you lost track of time again, and you wondered how long you’d been absent from the table. Had Thranduil noticed? Likely not. He never seemed to notice or care when you were gone.

“So how did you come to live in Mirkwood?” Your escort finally asked, his attention turning from the newly rebuilt throne to you. “You mentioned earlier you were not from there.”

“My…betrothed.” You started hesitantly. “He lives in Mirkwood.”

You paused, waiting for the inevitable reaction. You were promised to another, and it pained you to tell him. You felt an undeniable draw to this man who’s name you did not know. There was a familiarity and comfort with him, something you’d never felt before and certainly did not feel with Thranduil. As you waited for him to excuse himself and leave you standing alone in the halls you held your breath, dreading the fallout.

“Oh.” He sounded surprised at the revelation, but not upset. He made no move to run away from you as he continued. “You do not sound happy about the arrangement.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that he had not fled at the mention of your fiance. Though you’d made no mention of your unhappiness with the king, he seemed to have noted that it was not a joyous engagement. You wondered if it were that obvious to everyone when you spoke of Thranduil.

“I’m not.”

“Does he not treat you well?” He asked. You noticed a look of concern that immediately furrowed lines in his face.

“In order to treat me well or not well he’d have to spend time with me.” You said, offering him a sad but reassuring smile that your intended was not an unkind man. “And we do not spend any time together. He told me when I arrived we were to be together in name only.”

“That sounds terribly lonely.”

“It has been.” You continued quietly. Your gaze turned back to the designs etched into the stone floor as you walked. Who was this stranger? This man you’d known for an hour at most, but somehow you felt more comfortable with than anyone you’d ever met before. You wanted to know him better, but that would surely be impossible.

The two of you walked on in silence for several minutes before he spoke again.

“Has he seen you?” He asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Has he laid eyes on you?” He asked again, a hint of urgency in his voice.

“Well, yes, I’m here with him.” You stated simply. What was he getting at?

The man shook his head as he turned from you back to stare ahead as you walked.

“He is a madman, then.”

“How so?”

“To possess a woman so divine and not spend any time with her…” He trailed off, shaking his head again as though in disappointment. “The only conclusion is he must be insane.”

You felt your cheeks flush at his statement. This stranger had spoken more kind words to you in an evening than Thranduil had in a month. Who was this man?

“I don’t know if I would say that.” You said quietly, keeping your eyes focused on the ground as you spoke.

“I would.” He stopped suddenly and took your hand, pulling you to a stop with him. He tugged you around to face him, and kept your hand locked tightly in his as he spoke. “Tales will be written of your beauty some day. You are the fairest princess in the most wonderful fairytale. The most beautiful and elegant of all the elves in all of the realms. The most precious jewel under this mountain. If he is not insane, your betrothed is surely blind.”

The way he stared up into your eyes sent another flutter through your stomach. Something you’d sorely lacked with Thranduil. Passion. You felt it as strongly as anything, the unmistakable feelings of desire and attraction swirling within you. It was as though the force of gravity itself had shifted, and rather than grounding you to the earth you stood on it was pulling you towards this stranger instead.

“You flatter me, sir. I do not even know your name.” You whispered. As you spoke you felt yourself unconsciously pulling against his hand, tugging him closer to you. He stepped forward willingly, bringing your bodies only inches apart.

“I am-” He began.

“Kili.”

The both of you jumped at the unfamiliar voice that invaded the intimate bubble you’d enclosed yourselves in. You quickly released his hand and stepped backward, putting as much space as possible between you as the intruder approached. The young blonde prince you’d met earlier, Fili if you remembered correctly, was strolling toward the two of you.

“My lady, this is my brother, Prince Kili.” He said by way of introduction as he came to a halt beside him. “Brother this is Lady (Y/N), the intended of King Thranduil.” It seemed as though he were offering a reminder to the pair of you, rather than an introduction.

His brother. The king’s nephew. Of course it was.

The stranger you now knew to be Kili was staring at you, the pieces falling into place as his eyes widened.

“Thranduil…” He mumbled. “Of course.”

Fili raised an eyebrow in confusion at his brother's muttering before turning his attention back to you.

“My lady, your fiance requested I come check on you. Are you well?” He asked. He was far more formal and royally appropriate than his brother had been for the past hour.

You quickly slipped back into a more formal mode yourself, straightening your back and clasping your hands behind you. You nodded respectfully at the elder prince.

“Thank you, Prince Fili. Prince Kili was just escorting me back to my room. Will you tell King Thranduil I am not feeling well and would like to retire for the evening?”

He nodded.

“I will. Brother, our king has requested your presence. Do you know the rest of the way back, my lady?” As he spoke he pulled on his brother's arm, indicating they should return to the hall as quickly as possible. You hoped nothing had been made of your joint absence, though given the fact you’d not been introduced earlier the connection would have been a longshot for anyone to make.

“I do.” You said, giving the older brother a reassuring smile as he turned to leave. “It was nice to meet you, Kili.” You felt a pang of sadness. The evening had gone by far too quickly, and you knew you were not likely to see the handsome prince again.

“And you, (Y/N).” He took your hand in his and kissed it gently, allowing his lips to momentarily linger against the delicate skin of your hand. He released it and quickly stood, leaning in to whisper in your ear before following his brother. “I will find you again.”

#kili durin #kili fanfic #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit #kili x reader #kili #the hobbit movies #the hobbit trilogy #the hobbit fic #kili durin x reader #the hobbit reader insert #kili reader insert #kili imagine #kili durin imagine #kíli #fili and kili #kili and fili #lord of the rings reader insert #post-botfa

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distinguisheddwarffriend · 1 month

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My brain is FULL of TH fic ideas but I've already got 3 WIP and most of them are just "what if"s with no plot so I'll just post them here I guess and maybe some writing god hears me/ reads them and someone else actually uses them.

Here's Nr. 1:

Frerin did in fact NOT die at Azanulbizar but was transported into our modern world, sometime in the second half of the 19th century.

After some adjusting (industrialization is in full force but it's still not as 'bad' as it would be rn) he builds a life, him being a dwarf meaning that he ages extremely slowly compared to us lowly humans so he has to move after a while and again and again.

He lives in the UK, US, France, Germany, Italy, Finland.....

He fights in both world wars depending on where he lives during that time (WW1 on the German side, WW2 on the UK's), other than that he goes to university and works all kinds of jobs like policeman, fireman, soldier, teacher, carpenter,smith, weaver, factory worker, violinist etc etc etc

Around 1900 he meets this fella J R R Tolkien and befriends him, and after a time finds out that his friend is writing books about middle Earth, not only that, but one about his very own brother. Tolkien apparently is a seer of some kind because it's still almost a century until "The Hobbit" would happen (he does the math).

Frerin helps Tolkien with authenticity for his books, because the dude is smart and found out about Frerin after he corrected his Khuzdul one time too many.

Anyhow, after reading what will happen to his family, he becomes a mite bit obsessed with returning to Middle Earth and having ammased quite some wealth and with the help of some friends in high places starts founding various research projects into things like teleportation, multiverse, magic, alchemy, you name it. He also becomes a member of the Freemasons due to his occult knowledge.

In around 80 years there's almost no progress towards Frerin's goal of returning home, he does still have a research company but only a small group of mostly students works on the multiverse hypothesis, the rest does all kinds of stuff, technology, energy, whatever.

He has for the time being settled somewhere in Scandinavia, is a College Professor for Sociology and Political Science and volunteers as a social worker for troubled children.

He is fostering 2 or 3 children himself (ages 6 - 16) and has two grown up adopted children that still live & work with him (they found out about him), a guy & a lass ( both early twenties).

Somehow (don't ask I don't know) the whole household (meaning Frerin, his two young adult children, the foster children, his south American householder, her tiny dog and their personal Butler (more of a live-in family friend by now, think Niles from "The Nanny")) all get sucked into a portal or whatever end get spit out into Middle Earth.

Not at Ered Luin of course, that would be easy, no, but somewhere extremely inconvenient. The Lone lands, the Brown lands, Moria, something along the lines of "we are so fucked".

So now it is a few years (1-3, or the characters have too much time to become Mary-Sues), before the quest to Erebor, and they have to reach Thorin before then and somehow survive a world filled with orcs (and elves!) while juggling a 6 year old, a tiny & barky dog, a cliché Mamacita, a British butler, and Frerin's realisation that he has gotten much too used to modern convenience.

(my weak ass would probably include some romance between one/more than one of the original characters and the canon characters, I'm a sucker for Fili or Kili x OFC and rare pairings like KilixBifur or ThorinxNori and I want Frerin to date an elf or Bard I think.)

.... Does this sound like something you would read/write? I'd maybe try to write this with someone else, alone I don't dare to. What do y'all think?

#the hobbit #tolkien #middle earth #fili and kili #fili durin #thorin oakenshield #fíli #the hobbit fanfiction #kili durin #kíli #frerin #hobbit au #fanfic #fanfic ideas #the hobbit imagine #MGiME #modern character in middle earth

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cosmic-glow · 7 months

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Notes: Alone during Halloween night (Sumhain), you notice two eyes watching you in the darkness of the lake.

Warnings: Kíli x fem!reader; Triton!Kíli; Reader has hair; Reader at the bottom of the sea; SFW.

The lights of the small house still shone behind you as you walked away, you could still hear the excited conversations coming from inside. It was Samhain night, your favorite night of the year, and you had just argued with your parents, to the point where you were so stressed that you chose to get up from the table and leave the house, slamming the door behind you. Hot tears clouded your vision but you refused to let them fall.

As you always did, you went to the large lake near your house. Something about dipping your feet in the cold water and playing with the smooth rocks you found on the shore while watching the light reflecting off the water calmed you. Distracted and a little calmer, but still upset, you picked up a rock and threw it at the water, it bounced twice before sinking. When you lowered your head to look for another stone you heard a sound in the water that made you alert, when you got up and looked around you didn't find anything at first, but when you looked more closely over the water you were surprised to find another pair of eyes, staring at you, shining in the dark of the night.

- Who are you?! - pressed the stone tighter against your hand, threatening to throw it, taking a step back.

The creature with bright eyes and wet brown hair that stuck to its face approached slowly, you didn't hesitate, little by little the being emerged from the water, it was a man, with long brown hair that outlined his jaw, a sparse beard and penetrating brown eyes, there were fins where his ears should have been, some scales on his shoulders. That glow in his eyes... You knew perfectly well what he was: a triton. You had never seen one so close up, only in books. As the man came out of the water, you reproached yourself as ran your eyes down his naked torso.

- What is a human doing alone on the night of Samhain? - all you could pay attention to was how his smile had sharper teeth than usual.

- You still haven't answered me: who are you!

- I'm Kíli, sorry I didn't introduce myself before, I've seen you here a few times, but never as angry as today.

Analyzing the man, you lowered your arm, but still holding the stone.

- If you had already seen me, why never came to talk to me?

- Well, there aren't many of my kind left, I had my reasons to be scared - he approached and sat down on the edge of the lake.

You had already heard many legends about merpeople, legends that told of their powers of manipulation to enchant people, to attract them and take them to the bottom of the sea. And yet you approached him, his eyes attracting you more and more.

- I see... I've never seen a triton so close up before - revealed and sat down in front of him.

- And I've never seen a human up close - he smiled.

- Can I? - you asked shyly as you raised your hand and approached his face, without touching him.

Kíli nodded yes, carefully you brought your hand closer to the fin. Was cold, his skin was thin and delicate, extremely smooth like silk, still damp. Your hand came down closer to his face, there were some scales on the side of his face, his eyes were the darkest you had ever seen, very carefully you ran your fingertips over the gills on the side of his neck, sending goosebumps all over his body. When you looked down you could see his tail, it was a shiny emerald green, the scales started just below his hip.

- Can I? - His sudden voice snapped you out of your fascination.

- What?

- Can I see you too? - he asked, extending his hand just like you did.

When you said yes, Kíli brought his hand closer to your ear, carefully running his fingers over it, curious. He felt your face and hair, admiring each new and different texture. Kíli held your hands and brought them close to his eyes, there was no thin and transparent membrane between your fingers like his, your hands were smaller and soft, when he looked up and met your eyes he became shy and let go of your hands.

- Yeah... As I thought - he said, crossing his arms.

- What? - slightly furrowed your eyebrows.

- You are beautiful - he smiled.

You automatically looked away from him and couldn't control a smile, deep down you knew exactly what that was, he was trying to seduce you, every merpeople did that, it was so obvious, but so addictive. You didn't want him to stop.

- Yes, you are exactly as the books say... - he opened his eyes wider, anxious - ... Charming - he smiled more cheerfully than before.

- You still haven't answered me why you're out here alone.

- I fought with my parents... I preferred to leave home and since I had nowhere to go...

- I understand... - he was silent for a while, analyzing the situation - ... Would you like to spend Samhain with me?

You couldn't hide how surprised you were by the proposal, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, the words getting jumbled on your tongue before you could say anything back.

- With you? Here?

- No - he laughed at your innocence - Not here, at my house, I can take you there and we'll be back at dawn.

- How? The merpeople's houses are underwater, aren't they? I have to remind you that I can't breathe underwater - you both laughed.

-Yes, I know that, dear, but I can make you breathe underwater... With a kiss - the surprised look returned to your face - if you want, of course.

Analyzing the situation, you studied every possible risk, remembering how you had never experienced any adventure, remembering your father's screams at you, the anger you felt...

- Okay, - you decided.

Slowly, Kíli approached, giving you time to give up, but you had already made up your mind. His lips were soft and rested gently against yours, his hands bringing you closer. The kiss was delicate, his mouth was hot, giving you goosebumps with the growing desire, his arms wrapped around you and you let yourself be carried away. Opening your eyes as your lips parted, you realized you were now underwater. Scared, you held your breath, afraid of drowning, you looked up and realized you were very far from the surface. You felt a warm hand wrap around yours, it was Kíli, with a smile he took your other hand away from your mouth and nose and said that you could breathe without fear and in fact you managed to your surprise.

Still holding your hand he took you deeper into the water, fish of the most varied types passed around you, a cloud of bubbles dancing as the school followed its path, sea flowers that you had never seen before opened up to you, it was like you were in a dream, and honestly, you didn't want to wake up.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

October Calendar

Masterlist

#kíli #kíli x reader #kili x reader #kili hobbit #kili x fem!reader #kili #kíli hobbit #kili fanfic #kili oneshot #kili imagine #kili drabble #kili headcanons #hobbit fanfic #hobbit imagine #hobbit oneshot #hobbit x reader #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr oneshot

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shirefantasies · 1 month

Note

Heyyy i just wanna say that I LOVE your writing. Its so so comforting 🫶🫶🫶

Can I request a story/headcanon about how Thorins company/ specifically Kíli would react if (fem) reader got her hair braided by her (non dwarf) friend, and it was just a friendly thing, but the dwarves thought it was a courting braid?

Pairing Fem!Reader x Kíli

Thank youu🫶💗

Omg thanks! Comfort writing is a big honor 🥹

Mission of Misunderstanding- Kili x F!Human!Reader

Shout-out to my girlies in the unbraidable hair community lmao 🤝 Warnings: one minor swear lol, a couple suggestive remarks

One more step and your feet were going to fall off. Surrendering to the burn, you all but fell down onto the log, tilting your feet so only your heels rested upon the earth. A sigh escaped your lips and you didn’t even move when the rustling sounded at your back.

A familiar voice spoke your name. Bilbo. “Are you quite alright?”

“Yes, my friend,” you breathed, “so long as you don’t count anything below the knee. Or my hair. Can’t imagine how much dirt and leaves have gotten in it after all that.”

"Well, yes," Bilbo chided, ever the little mother-hen, "you've got to keep it back. Why don't I braid it for you?"

Your heart burst, and not from exertion this time. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course," the hobbit shrugged, "haven't had much practice of it of late, but certainly I can give it a go for you. I understand. I wouldn't want the mess either. Come here."

Thanking him again, you scooted closer to where Bilbo stood, gritting your teeth for the pain of him detangling your hair, only to relax at the gentle touch of his nimble fingers. Eyelids fluttering shut in contentment, you sat as Bilbo worked his magic neatening your hair up and making fresh braids of it for you. Feet still elevated and aching, but less so the longer you sat off of them. When the hobbit pulled back with a quiet, still-focused finished, your first instinct was to reach up around your head, touching the new set of braids with a widening smile.

"And now it shall be free of my face! Truly, thank you, Bilbo!" Pulling him into a quick hug, you vowed to repay him somehow with a teasing final statement. "Since I doubt you want me to braid yours."

"That is quite alright, thank you," he chuckled, "let's head back to camp before Bombur chases us down, eh?”

Camp was nearby, and still sparsely populated as you approached it. Bofur and Bombur were there building a fire, and Thorin stood a ways aside having a conversation with Balin. Dwalin and Gloin sat playing a game with a rock as their table, and Ori sat knitting. The others, you presumed, were hunting, saddling ponies, or else getting attention from Oin. Thinking nothing of it you sat down again, this time near Dwalin and Gloin, asking who was winning and if they were taking bets just to laugh at their responses. Bilbo helped Bofur and Bombur get set up for dinner a few feet off, propping up sticks strong enough to hold the cooking pot.

Sure enough, the rest of the company began trickling in, Oin, Bifur, and Nori first, the latter two with poultices and bandages. You winced. Perhaps you should complain less about your feet. Next up came Dori and Fili, who each carried one half of a felled deer, shot clearly with one of Kili's arrows. The younger prince had a bag in hand, likely having won whatever silly game determined who got the lightest load. Smiling and meeting his eyes, you gave a quick wave, indicating your amusement at the game behind you with your eyes.

Kili smiled back and waved, then swiveled his head away and back again in a double-take. You found yourself frowning as he averted his gaze to help his brother, blinking as you wondered what that was about. All you'd done was say hello. Not even say, really. Did he think you were making fun of the others?

Perhaps it was nothing, but considering your feelings for the prince, it was everything in your mind. Cycling ideas began overtaking your brain like mist. Had he suspected malice of your joke? Had he simply heard something? Why had his expression shifted so? Maybe he was just worried by what he heard.

"What did I miss while we were gone?"

At Kili's words, Dwalin simply frowned, peering at him like he'd thoroughly lost his marbles. "What do ya mean, lad?"

"Did...did anything happen?"

"Took Gloin for a right fool on the card table," the older dwarf replied with a smug look, chest puffing and shoulders widening.

"No," the prince shook his head, "not with you, with..."

Despite the way he trailed off, Dwalin gave him a knowing smirk, crossing his tattooed arms. "Ah, I see," he nodded, "not with me, not with me at all. With the lass, eh? Why, she didn’t greet you with a kiss?”

Having an older brother really steeled one to teasing. Much as Kili wanted to fight, to protest and say oi, quit that or I’ll make you, he knew it was exactly the rise Dwalin would’ve wanted to get from him. Beside the other fact that his elder could kick his ass easily.

“‘Course not,” he replied nonchalantly as he could, “I just noticed someone had braided her hair was all.”

Even Dwalin had cause for surprise at that, dark eyebrows shooting up to his metaphorical hairline. “Just since this morning?”

“Yeah,” Kili replied, trying not to sound as deflated as the words made him feel, knocking the air clean out of him now that he’d said them out loud, “thought maybe you’d seen who did it.”

“Hadn’t even crossed my mind, but I think it was like that when she and Bilbo headed back to camp.”

“Bilbo?” He’d lose to a three and a half foot…grocer? “Well now, I’d not have expected that, eh?”

“I can tell ye don’t actually want to laugh, son.”

Sighing, he finally let himself deflate. Bilbo? You and Bilbo?

“I hardly see them talk that much. Do you?”

“Not nearly enough to warrant a marriage. Those take time.”

“I know, Fee.”

“Spark.”

“I know.”

“And I thought you two had it. Not even just saying that because you’re my brother. You know I’m honest with you. The only reason those two would have is both feeling like outsiders, and that hardly seems cause to f-”

“Thank you, Fili, yes. Perhaps I was just wrong. Perhaps she could never have loved me after all. She wasn’t my One.”

“Now, brother,” grabbing him by the cheeks with one hand, Fili pulled his younger brother’s gaze to meet his, “not so hasty. Have you talked to either of them yet?”

“Wasn’t ready,” he mumbled, shaking out of the squishing grasp.

“Well, perhaps you should. Knowing is pain, yes, but it is also the thing that keeps us going in the end.”

Kili dropped his gaze thoughtfully before meeting his brother’s eye again, smiling faintly. “Remember our old espionage days? Maybe it’s time we had another mission.”

“Alright,” Fili nodded and smiled, “for old times’ sake.”

“Well hello there, Master Burglar.”

“Whatever it is, I won’t fall for it.”

“Now, now, so dry and for what?” Fili wrapped an arm around the hobbit. “I was just wondering how you you were coming along with…a certain member of the company.”

At that, the hobbit’s face crumpled in disgust. By Fili’s reckoning, Master Bilbo seemed barely interested in romance and certainly not with any of the types he currently ran with. He needed someone more doilies and dishcloths and the lot. You may have been the closest to his type, but still far too much of an edge, far too much indeed.

“I beg your pardon?” Bilbo simply replied.

With a conspiratorial wink, Fili leaned in and whispered your name, glancing back to the hobbit’s eyes, which narrowed slightly. Suspicious.

“Uh, w-well I would say,” Bilbo stuttered, shrugging lightly, “well as we could be, all things considered.”

“All things considered?” Fili’s grip tightened a bit. “There are things to be considered?”

“There are plenty of things to be considered!” The burglar shot back. “Why, is she upset with me? Last I heard, she liked the braids and I made her feel much more comfortable. Have I done something today?”

Blue eyes closing to near-slits, Fili released his grip entirely, arm falling back to his side. “Did she ask you to arrange her hair?”

“She complained about it,” Bilbo replied, shimmying in his newfound freedom and using his released arm to slide his pack closer, “so I offered to do something about it. Can’t imagine that is much of an outrage…oh. Oh, good heavens! No! Oh, no. No. She could be my daughter, who on earth sent you over here to…?”

Blonde brows raising, Fili’s head shot back in surprising hard enough to send his mustache braids swinging. “Wait, so you do know about courting braids?”

“Gloin was just telling me all about his,” the hobbit replied, freezing in place even in spite of his awkward, hunched-into-his-pack-hands-deep posture, “neither of us thought a thing about it. Privately I was hoping she and Kili would do whatever it was to get the tension out there, you know?”

Fili did know. He knew, all right.

“Psst! Psst! Hoo! Hoo! Caw!”

Kili’s head snapped up at the sound, dark eyes meeting his brother’s fair head popping from the scraggly bushes surrounding camp. One gloved hand waved wild beckoning at the younger prince. Rising from the rock he’d sat down on, one with a strategic view of some conversation between you, Uncle Thorin, and Balin, Kili strode to the edges of camp.

“Reconnaissance successful,” his older brother hissed.

“What?” Jaw dropping, Kili felt his hands leave his chest and clench in surprise. “That was fast. Nothing for me to do?”

“Not true, brother. Not true at all,” Fili smiled, “your part is far more important. You have to go talk to her.”

With a sigh, Kili nodded despite the heavy clunk of his heart in his chest. All the childhood playtimes were nice and all, but at the end of the day he had to be a dwarf about things. Face his fears, just like Uncle Thorin and his father and even Fili.

“You’re right. Though I dread it in my heart, I must speak to her. Even if my love is never known.”

“I wish you the greatest of luck,” Fili patted his shoulder, smiling eagerly, “and trust me. She won’t do a single thing to hurt you. I know it. Alright?”

Another nod. “Alright.”

Inhale, exhale. One step, then another. It was hard sometimes. Putting on the bravado. Fili was always so capable and Uncle had high standards. Not that he shouldn’t, but…it just got easier to act unafraid of everything. In truth, there was much Kili didn’t understand. Much he feared. Perhaps even his own heart, and that was why he had allowed himself to play games with it for so long. No longer, though.

Crunching across the dry campsite ground, he marched up to you as your conversation ended and asked to speak with you, frowning slightly at the nod Balin and Thorin exchanged. Focusing instead on your gaze, the way your eyes were intent in his and the-admittedly quite adorable-way shock bloomed across your face before giving way to a smile and a nod.

“Of course,” you said, and that was that.

How was it that one little smile from you could simultaneously calm Kili's heart and set it leaping like nothing else? There truly was no denying that you were special. Perhaps Bilbo had seen what was so dazzlingly obvious, too. Guess that wasn't too much of a shock.

You both ventured toward the tree line, stopping next to a particularly sturdy trunk. Eagerness was written across your face as you leaned against the smooth bark, encouraging Kili with a smile he couldn't help faintly mirroring even as tears swam in his eyes.

"Are congratulations in order?"

"For me?" You asked, head tilting and hand reaching to your chest. "Forgive me, but what are you asking? I thought maybe I'd upset you last night, but now I really fear it. Or are you teasing me again?"

All thought was scrubbed from Kili's brain at your words, a thick blanket of confusion draping over the prince's mind and furrowing his brows. Is this what Fili meant? Were you not to hurt him because you thought him cross with you? That hurt a bit in and of itself. Perhaps you'd known he would be jealous. But then again, you had greeted him so casually, giving him a cute little wave when he came back...

"Please," he all but begged your name, "the suspense is just killing me. Is that not a courting braid you've been given? I know it is new as of yesterday."

"Is that why you looked so perturbed? Courting...courting braid? Kili," you laughed, "my hair was full of sticks and leaves and all manner of muck, so Bilbo detangled it and got it out of my face for me! Bilbo could be my father!"

Still a bit shaky, but Kili's face surrendered a smile at the teasing smack you gave his upper arm. "Oh, forgive me for being a dwarf," he shot back, "I was hardly the only one who noticed."

"But you were the only one who was jealous," you teased him back, "is that not right?"

Kili could tell by the faltering smirk you gave, by the dart of your beautiful eyes, that you did not truly believe it, but by Mahal, you would when he was done with you.

"Madly," he agreed, eyes boring into yours, "never let anyone but me braid your hair again."

Eyebrows shooting up to your hairline, you peeled yourself from the tree as if to get a closer look. "Kili..."

"I mean it," he implored your name once more, gently taking your shoulders in his hands, "please. This isn't a joke, but if you'd like me to convince you..."

Surging forward, Kili closed the gap between you two, his lips soft against yours and stubble pleasantly tickling against your skin, which shifted as you moved in response to his kiss. Your hands found purchase in his hair, tangling in it and eliciting a sound Kili was too focused on you to be embarrassed about. When you finally pulled away for air, he pulled you back, resting his forehead against yours with a growing smile.

"So, you convinced?"

Your eyes glittered with mirth, joy, mischief...perhaps even love, and Kili knew he should have never doubted you were his One. "So convinced I practically want you to rip out all of Bilbo's work and do it over again yourself."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

#the hobbit #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit x reader #kili #kili x reader #kili x female reader #female reader #ask #anon #requested

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shiinata-library · 4 months

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Imagine: You can speak to animals in Middle-Earth

Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo's reactions when they understand you can speak to animals in Middle-Earth

N/A: I haven't written in English for a while. I may be rusty…

Thorin

“The inn is this way,” you say to Thorin several times during the journey when he is lost in towns that you pass through. Or something like “I think the stable with our ponies is at your right, then at your left.” Or, “Oh, Balin is looking for you at the town's entrance, hm, straight on, then left after the bakery.”

At the beginning of the journey, it surprised you how many times Thorin could be lost. But now, you eventually get used to it.

The only thing you’re not used to is the look on his face every time you help him. Surprised and suspicious. While you just want to help him…

Well, could you tell him it's some ravens that are letting you know when he needs help? “The king is looking for Master Balin.” “The king doesn’t walk in the right direction.” “My lady, the king wants to go to the inn.” They are polite but they never give you the choice…

Other animals speak sometimes with you and you love to listen to them. It’s surprising how much you can learn with them. The best place for that is in Beorn’s house. Thanks to his hospitality, you can walk around his house and speak to animals you have never spoken to before. It’s fun and it especially changes your mind after everything has happened during the journey.

Yet, when you thought ravens have let you in peace, two of them come for you in an evening. You have just finished dinner and the night has almost fallen. They ask for help, explaining their baby is trapped in an orc’s trap. At first, you want to refuse : it’s almost night, Beorn is already out in bear’s form, and some orcs are also soon out.

But you can’t let a baby raven die, right? So you follow them in the forest behind Beorn house. A forest that looks welcoming by day, but much less so at night.

Thanks to other animals' help, you finally find the trap, more or less quickly, and free the little one. As he thanks you, you notice the silence around you, especially the ravens. Then, you notice the darkness of the forest. You remain motionless until you hear a voice behind you.

“What are you doing here?” a cold, hard male voice says behind as you turn to him and realise it’s only Thorin. Even in the dark, it’s impossible not to recognise his voice.

Damn, your heart is dead by now. You don’t even find the good words. “It’s our fault, my King,” one of the ravens says as he comes closer to you on a branch. He explains everything to Thorin while you look at him astonished.

“Don’t tell me he could understand you from the start!” you say, upset as you turn to the raven. “Why did you use me all this time if he could understand?” you progressively raise your voice, ignoring where you are.

“Roäc is the only raven I can understand,” Thorin says. “But now is not the time to speak. Let’s go back to–” When he stops talking, you shiver. You can feel you’re not alone. The ravens and the other animals are already left. Thorin suddenly takes your hand and pulls it. You start a quick sprint to Beorn’s house and you’re glad no orcs found you.

You enter the house out-of-breath. Thorin turns to you, not making the effort to hide his anger. He shouts at you that you should never have gone outside, that you’re stupid, that you could die easy. And like Bilbo before, that you shouldn't be here with them.

Oh, hm, it really hurts to hear all of that. You remain silent, looking down until you notice he is still holding your hand. His hand is so big but warm. Oh. Hm. It’s hot all of a sudden, isn’t it?

“Well,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry if Roäc bothered you many times. And thank you for saving his little one.” Is he embarrassed? Oh, you would give anything to have more light to see if he is blushing!

“It’s nothing. He and other ravens helped me during the journey, so it's normal.” Now you look him in the eye, you don’t know what to add. He also seems engrossed by your eyes.

Maybe something could have happened. Well, only if his nephews didn’t enter the room abruptly, shouting they were looking for him. Or maybe it's just postponed for another time…

Fíli

“Kíli is looking for you,” you say to Fíli once you find him cleaning one of his swords among a lot of them scattered on the floor. An impressive collection that you always wonder if you already saw all of them or not. “This time is because Dwalin has made fun of him and he wants revenge. It seems he can’t leave without you less than an hour,” you resume, smiling as you see him putting away his swords one by one. “The maximum was three days,” he replies, laughing at his own answer. “I'm surprised you found me before him.”

Can you tell him you asked for help from a bird and a dog? The town where you stopped isn’t big but it seems that Kíli couldn’t find his brother ; or maybe it was Fíli who didn't want us to find him. Anyway, you offered your help and with your capacity, it’s always easy to find someone, in exchange for some food or other information. Animals are easier to convince than humans.

“I guess I’m lucky,” you answer, shrugging as you start to walk with him. “Speaking of luck, you should speak to Oín about your recent injury. It could become infected.” Despite your serious tone, he looks at you with a smile, the radiant smile that swings the beads from his moustache, but doesn’t say anything about it. When you join his brother, they immediately start to plan to take revenge on Dwalin, leaving you to your own business before Kíli asks for your help.

During the journey, you notice Fíli disappears sometimes for a short time. You guess you need time alone when you’re a prince with an uncle like Thorin and a brother like Kíli. Even Dwalin and Balin seem to expect a lot from him. It looks exhausting, even from where you are. But, you always eventually find him when someone is looking for him, and luckily for you, he is never upset with it.

Yet, one evening when you were looking for him because Thorin needs him, you got lost in the forest. Because of the darkness of the night, your foot catches on a root and you fall suddenly to the ground. Great, now you’re hurt in addition to being lost…

You chose to sit down for a while, waiting for the pain to pass. Then, you strangely notice there are no animals around you to help you. It’s not good. Not good at all. The only time you didn't find animals in a forest was when there was an orc camp nearby.

When you wait in this kind of situation, it’s hard to know how much time passes, but the forest is totally dark when you decide to go back to the company’s camp. Now, you can only count on your luck to find the right path and not to meet orcs…

You barely walk when you hear silent branches crackling not far from you. Just a few metres from you, one orc with a small lantern is walking. An orc scout. You don’t have time to take out your weapon that he is already running after you.

When you are about to run, a raven rushes to his face, blinding him, while someone comes from nowhere and kills him without a sound. The lantern falls in the ground and you recognise Fíli. The raven doesn’t wait to fly away, letting you both alone while he crushes the lantern and the fire with his foot.

“How did you find me?” you ask, surprised, as he takes your hand and starts walking away. “Wait, my foot is hurt, I can’t walk fast…”

He stops his steps and takes you on his back as if you weighed nothing. Oh, his hair smells like earth and metal. “My uncle’s raven helped me,” he eventually says as he starts walking. “And some of your friends showed me the forest but my uncle’s raven was the only one who wanted to go with me in this forest’s part.”

“My friends?” you frown. “A squirrel, a bird and, hm, a frog,” he says. “The last one was really hard to follow.”

You stay silent for a moment, understanding he knows you can talk to animals. “How do you know?” you eventually ask, shyly hidden behind his back.

You hear him laugh first as you both get out of the forest, seeing the company's camp nearly. “You talked with all the animals you meet. It's not hard to guess.”

“So, everyone knows?” you exclaim, glad to be out of the forest given the volume of your voice. “I don't think so,” he says as you breathe in relief. “But I can ask them if they know about it.”

You don't need to see him to know he's smiling. You travel enough with him and his brother to know when they take advantage of a situation. “What do you want to hold your tongue?” you ask, a little upset. “Nothing,” he replies as he puts you on the ground, his smile widening when he sees your annoyed expression. “Nothing yet,” he hurries to resume. “Let me think about it and I'll tell you.”

As you both almost join the company's camp, the light of the fire shows his proud face. You don't know what you should expect from his future request, but you know he already enjoys it…

Kíli

If there is something you enjoy the most in this journey, it’s teasing Kíli. His reactions are always entertaining!

It started at the beginning of the journey when he asked the company where his knife was. Thanks to a little bird’s murmur, you found it for him. He was very surprised. It was honestly so cute.

Now the journey continues and you often answer his questions. You can even predict the rain. It’s amazing for you and troubling for him. Maybe you should tell him the truth before he imagines anything. But, well, his expressions are too cute and innocent to stop.

Some dwarves are still suspicious about you, and this doesn't get better with all your answers. So, you would like to avoid Kíli and his questions, but it’s impossible. You’re becoming more and more friends with him, and he often speaks with you, especially in the evening after dinner, when everyone is busy with their own things. (In truth, his brother is also often with you both, when he is not with his uncle and Balin.)

Yet, something changes when you arrive in Beorn’s home. When you realise the skin-changer can also, more or less, speak with animals, you spend a lot of time with him. Used to live alone, you thought you were bothering him, but he seemed interested in talking to you about some animals, their habits, their preferences or the manner to ask them a service.

So, as Kíli doesn’t know about your ability, he doesn’t understand your obsession for him. “Obsession” may be an exaggeration, but he really misses you. He tries to speak with you, but you often say that you’re busy with Beorn.

A night when Kíli notices you’re not sleeping yet, he looks for you in the house. His worry increases when he doesn’t find you and nobody can tell him where you are. Even if Beorn told them not to go out at night, he ends up outside, walking around the house.

“No! Don’t get too close to me like that!” he hears you exclaim in the distance. “Don’t force me to use my strength against you!” Then he realises your voice is coming from in the barn behind the house. “No, stop! I already told you not to touch me like that!” Alright, Kíli is now running to you, abruptly opening the front door.

Following Beorn’s instructions, you spend your evenings talking to some animals and all the animals have their own personality. And this bloody dog is too affectionate and full of energy to speak with.

When Kíli enters, he shouts your name, waking up all the animals in the barn. He can’t understand them, but they’re furious against him. He runs to you until he notices the dog next to you. “What’s happening here? Are you hurt? Who is touching you? Even if he is very tall, if Beorn tries–”

“What are you talking about? Beorn didn’t do anything!” you suddenly say, standing up. Then, the dog you were talking with pokes you in the leg with his muzzle. “No, he is not!” you whisper, visibly embarrassed.

“He is not what?” Kíli asks, raising an eyebrow. You start to walk to the exit, but the dog is following you.

“Yet, you seem important to him!” the dog barks as he walks before you and goes out when you open the door. “He often looks at you during the day. Even his brother is sick of hearing him talk about you all the time.”

“Stop saying nonsense. Join the others for the night and we’ll continue tomorrow,” you reply, not noticing that Kíli looks at you talking to the dog until the dog barks again before leaving. “So, ask him what he dreamt about yesterday night, you will know!”

The dog finally runs away, leaving you and Kíli alone walking to Beorn’s house. He stays silent, hoping you would explain what happened. Yet, you surprise him so much by asking him what his dream was last night that he can’t help but blush and lose his words. His eyes suddenly open wide and he even takes a step back. He was far from imagining that you would ask that question and you clearly understand it when he quickly wishes you a good night before leaving you alone in the entrance.

You stay a while thinking about what happened until you choose to go to sleep, hoping the dog will be talkative tomorrow.

Bilbo

Talking to animals is so great. In exchange for information or services, they can tell you a lot of things, especially where the best fruits or nuts are. You’re clearly never hungry.

And it didn't escape the hobbit's notice! Bombur or some others saw it too, but they are still too suspicious about you to speak to you. So one afternoon, usually at tea time, Bilbo approaches you on his pony and asks you where you find your apple. You’re happy someone other than Gandalf talks to you, so you gladly tell him and give one from your bag.

That’s how you started your friendship with Mr Baggins. You even call him “Bilbo” now. But you never dared tell him your capacity. He'd think you were crazy, wouldn't he?

Bilbo knows you hide something from him, but everyone has their secrets, so he never asks you how you find those fruits and nuts. It’s only in Mirkwood that he discovers your ability.

Mirkwood, as everyone else, turns your head and you have trouble staying focused. It’s only when the spiders attack that you notice you aren’t with the company but you can still hear them shouting in the distance. A giant spider finds you, then another. It’s clearly impossible to flee, so let’s try talking?

Well. You try the same technique that Bilbo used with the trolls, but they are more intelligent than them. “It’s the first time a meal can understand us. It’s amusing, don’t you think?” one says to the other. “You’re right, let’s enjoy it a little longer.”

They talk to you until you don’t hear anything but them. No dwarves’ shouting anymore. Some other spiders join their friends and now, you’re in the middle of a circle of so many giant spiders that you’re ready to faint. You continue to speak, hoping the elves will be here any minute.

But to your surprise, you hear one of the spiders cries and falls, then another. But you don’t see any elf.

Then Bilbo appears, provokes the spiders, runs far away before disappearing again. All the spiders run in his direction, leaving you alone. You take advantage of it to free the dwarves and then, the elves finally find you like they should have.

After the elves’ dungeons and the escape, it’s only on the freezing Bard’s boat that you can speak again with Bilbo. You sit next to him, wrapping yourself to keep you warm. “I haven't had time to thank you for the spiders yet…” you say, knowing he saw you talk to them. “They seemed to enjoy chatting with you,” he chuckles.

“I prefer to chat with you,” you say, closing your eyes and letting your head fall on his shoulders. Some dwarves smile but remain silent. You can’t see it but Bilbo’s face has never been so warm despite the cold of the lake.

#the hobbit fanfic #thorin x reader #fili x reader #kili x reader #bilbo x reader #the hobbit imagine

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lathalea · 5 months

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The Shrieking Monster

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ This is a gift for @babe-bombadil as part of the @whiteoliphaunt 2023 exchange. ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨ Happy New Year everyone! 🥳

Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield & Dis & little Fili & Kili Rating: G Warnings: family fluff Author's notes: A story set in the Blue Mountains about Thorin trying to be both a ruler and a good uncle at once. Young Fili and Kili are making it a tad difficult in their own cute way. Special thanks to @naryaflame for your linguistic help with a name :) If you prefer, you can read this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Thorinuldûm - Thorin’s Halls, the settlement of the refugees from the Lonely Mountain in the Blue Mountains Amad - mother

It was a perfect morning. Thorin stretched and yawned, settling himself on his favourite chair in the kitchen. The air that whiffed into the dwarven stronghold from the outside felt warm on his cheeks and smelled like spring. As he sipped his morning tea, that strong, aromatic blend Dori bought in Bree, his sister appeared at the threshold. She gave Thorin a bright smile and, seeing her steaming mug on the table, she sat next to him. The lazy silence of the early hours of the day was soon broken by the appearance of two dishevelled pebbles, one with a thatch of golden hair, the other – with his hair as brown as a bear’s fur in winter. After the mandatory morning hugs, Thorin readied breakfast while Dís prepared her sons for the day, humming to herself. Thorin could not stop himself from smiling. His sister was probably already thinking of her visit to the market. She adored going there in the morning, especially on the days when the merchants arrived with new goods – and today was one of those days. Thorin sighed. As much as he wanted her to have a very much needed moment of respite – his sister-sons were quite a handful, to put it mildly – he was painfully aware of what it was going to mean to him. Half a day of having his eyes around his head and his ears pricked up for any unusual noises they may create… or worse – the ominous silence. In the past, there was only a handful of moments when he and Dís realised that the boys went completely silent. It never bode well.

This day, however, started with the pitter-patter of the boys’ bare feet, chatter and laughter, and the clatter of their bowls as they ate their oatmeal. Dís reminded them to behave while she was gone, and left for the market. Fíli seemed very content about this state of things, knowing well by now that staying with his mother’s brother meant visiting various places in these halls, like forges, or assisting Thorin in other exciting ways. It was different with Kíli – his loud wails of protest at being so cruelly abandoned reverberated against the walls of their home. Thorin imagined they must have followed their mother through the corridors of Thorinuldûm for a long while. Her Little Bear, as Dís called him, was still too young to understand the connection between Mommy leaving, and the sudden appearance of candied rhubarb or his favourite cream toffees.

Distracting Kíli from his misery was not easy, but Thorin managed it by offering to take the boys for a new adventure. Their big blue eyes shone as he told them they would be going to the lower levels of the city together. It was a real treat – Kíli had never been there before and Fíli visited them only a handful of times.

Thorin had a mind to visit the Engineers’ Quarter and show the lads around while discussing some technical issues with one of the water engineers. And so they began their adventure. As they descended down the wide stone stairs Kíli stumbled and yawned, so Thorin decided to carry him the rest of the way. Soon Little Bear began snoring in his arms, and Thorin attempted to ignore the fact that his own tunic was becoming gradually soaked through with his nephew’s saliva. He also started suspecting that the moniker “Little Bear” must have surely come from the fact that Kíli seemed to weigh more and more with every step, like a true bear.

“At least he is not crying,” Thorin muttered to himself, and kept on walking. Thank Mahal for silver linings.

As they arrived at their destination, however, the situation got worse. The Engineers’ Quarter was a crowded place that smelled like tar, coal, and burned leather. Not minding the much larger adult dwarves in their soot-stained clothes who carried – or carted – their wares from one place to another, curious Fíli began rushing between them, oblivious of the chaos he was creating. He took a look at the wheelwright’s workshop here, and then he had to see the toolmaker’s booth there; he then insisted on seeing how parchment was being made, and attempted to find the place where they manufactured those shiny cogwheels. If not for his golden mane, Thorin would have lost his nephew at least a couple of times. Brór, the water engineer he had a meeting with, joined Thorin in the chase for the high-spirited boy. Instead of looking at the water supply pipeline blueprints and trying to fix a problem with water pressure, they ended up unwillingly playing a hide-and-run game to the delight of the onlookers. Seeing your own king running back and forth through the great cavern with one giggling pebble strapped to his chest while chasing after the other one must have been very amusing… for anyone but him, Thorin thought with resignation. His resignation grew even more when he noticed Fíli climbing onto a tall work table… and jumping down onto a heap of coal.

When Thorin finally caught the runaway, they were both out of breath. Although it was rather Fíli who caught his uncle – the boy ran into him and clung to his left leg as if a throng of orcs chased him.

Fíli raised his teary-eyed face to Thorin and sobbed out, “A monster wanted to eat meeee…”

“A monster? Here?” Thorin’s brow furrowed.

It took him a while to reassure Fíli that no monster was going to eat him. In turn, Thorin promised to get rid of the said monster that apparently lurked in a nearby chamber, and shrieked at him. He left his nephews in the care of Brór who tried to look solemn, but his twitching lips betrayed him. Thorin grunted and entered the chamber, carefully looking around, adjusting his eyes to the dark surroundings. And then he saw two glowing points of red. And heard the shrieking.

When Thorin returned to Brór, Kíli was fast asleep once again. Leaving Little Bear in the engineer’s care once again, he took Fíli’s hand and led him to the entrance of the dark chamber. When they opened the door, they both heard the continuous shrieking now. His nephew stopped and refused to walk inside, covering his ears and closing his eyes.

“There are no monsters here, Fíli.” Thorin reassured the boy. “See for yourself.”

“Nnoooo…” muttered Fíli, hiding behind his uncle.

“Do not be afraid,” Thorin added. “Nothing will hurt you here. I promise.”

On the bench by the door stood a lantern. It took him a moment to light it. With the lantern in hand, Thorin crossed the threshold and approached the nearest lantern that hung on the wall, and then another, and another. Soon, the whole chamber was bright as day, each lantern giving off a pleasant yellow glow.

“You can come in now,” Thorin smiled encouragingly.

With his ears covered and his eyes set on the shrieking, wobbling entity in the middle of the chamber, Fíli shook his head.

“This is not a monster.” Thorin stepped towards the huge bulbous shape that made so much noise. He placed his hand on the top of the strange shaking thing and added, “This is a washing barrel.”

Fíli blinked and took a good look at it. The two red glowing points did not look like a pair of evil eyes any longer. Those were two ball-shaped lanterns standing on top of the… thing. That shrieking noise now seemed to sound like a couple of cogwheels that needed a bit of oil, and not like a monster’s screech. And the arm that seemed to reach out to grab him before, turned out to be a cast iron lever.

“A… barrel?” Fíli looked at his uncle and took one uncertain step towards him and the strange contraption.

“Correct. A barrel that washes your clothes,” Thorin explained in an even voice and at the same moment the shrieking stopped. “Look, it has just finished the washing cycle. Let me show you how it works. First, you open this hatch, like so… Watch out for the water! These clothes are clean, they only need to be wrung out and dried.”

As he spoke, Fíli slowly started closing the distance between them, his eyes becoming wider and wider.

“... but if you want to wash your clothes,” Thorin continued, “you need to put them inside, here, and add some soap suds. Then you close the hatch, pour some water here, crank this lever a few times, do this, like so, and wait for the washing barrel to finish its work!”

Thorin kept on talking until Fíli seemed to be completely in awe of this new piece of machinery, his fear completely forgotten. He peppered his uncle with tons of questions: how many cogwheels were there, how many times one should crank the lever, what the barrel was made of… and so on, and so forth. When they left the chamber, there was a big smile on the boy’s lips instead of tears.

On their way back home Fíli exclaimed, “This was the bestest adventure ever!”

Thorin thought that sometimes being an uncle happened to be quite rewarding. Even if his tunic was still wet from Kíli’s sleepy drooling.

***

His attitude completely changed less than half an hour later, when his nephews disappeared. Both of them. At once.

Stumbling over several painfully angular wooden toys, Thorin searched the boys’ bedroom. Nothing. He even looked under their beds (twice!), but there was no sign of the boys anywhere. They weren't sitting in the common kitchen nor searching for snacks in the pantry. Nor in Dwalin’s rooms where Kíli liked to play hide-and-scare with the big warrior. There were nowhere to be found – not in the rocking chair by the fireplace, nor even in Balin’s study by that large desk where Fíli liked to play so often. Thorin closed his eyes. If he did not find his nephews before Dís returned from the market, his sister would have Thorin’s own head on a spike. The wrath of dwarf-women was ten times fiercer than the one of dwarf-men. In the case of his little sister, the number was much higher, at least a hundred times. And Thorin would do everything he could to avoid being on the receiving end of it.

There was no time to lose. He recruited Dwalin, Óin, and Halkatla, Balin’s wife, to the task of finding the boys, but they returned empty-handed. No one had seen the boys since their early lunch. Then, they were supposed to take a nap, and Thorin remembered their yawning as they closed the door to their bedroom behind him.

And now they were gone. Kidnapped? — No, impossible, Thorin thought. Dwarves cherished their children like the greatest treasures they were, and no one else was allowed into Thorinuldûm. There were no goblins nor other dangers here either. It felt as if the boys magically disappeared in a puff of smoke. Thorin looked around the wide corridor he stood in, but he found no traces of the missing boys.

“Have you checked all of their favourite places?” Halkatla asked, her red-and-silver braids clinking as she turned her head towards Óin.

“Aye, we did,” he nodded. “Not a sign of them.”

“Those wee rascals! I bet they are up to somethin’.” Dwalin said. “They remind me of us. Remember that time, Thorin, when we were around their age or so, and half of Erebor was lookin’ for us all day long?”

“It would be difficult to forget it,” Thorin admitted. “We wanted to avoid another boring lesson with our tutor…”

“...and instead we went to explore the mines! What a shame we lost our way,” Dwalin grinned and nudged him. “It was fun!”

“Aye, fun on an empty belly. If only you had not forgotten our food,” Thorin replied, relieved that his nephews had a proper meal at least.

“If only ye had not forgotten that map ye were supposed to borrow from your father’s desk,” Dwalin chuckled.

Before Thorin could form an adequate riposte, a mousy-haired dwarf approached him.

“M’lord, Master Brór says that the pipeline is fully functional again,” the messenger bowed.

Thorin gave him a nod of thanks. At least he brought a piece of good news. Master Brór was a skilled engineer, and the way he handled Thorin’s own sister-sons…

“Either way,” Dwalin continued, “we had a real adventure on that day, hadn’t we, Thorin?”

A thought appeared in Thorin’s mind. Master Brór. An adventure.

“There was one place where we have not searched yet,” he turned to his companions.

“I am listening,” Halkatla tilted her head, reminding him of a curious raven.

“The Engineers’ Quarters.”

***

Master Brór was more than happy to receive words of thanks from Thorin in person for fixing that pipeline issue once and for all. Despite Thorin’s hopes, he had not seen Fíli or Kíli since they left the Engineers’ Quarters with their uncle earlier that day. Dwalin muttered a curse under his breath.

“Well, that’s it. I’m goin’ to check the workshops,” the warrior said.

“I’ll take the ones on the left, you take the ones on the right,” Halkatla followed him.

“Let’s go,” Dwalin replied, his voice trailing off as he walked away. “And those wee cave bats would better be there or I swear…”

Master Brór addressed Thorin, “I will spread the word as you requested, my lord. Someone must have seen them, I am certain of it. They could not have simply disappeared.”

Thorin agreed with him and began his own search. The rocks could not have swallowed them whole! Magic was out of the question as well, there had to be a logical solution to this! Thoring pulled at his short beard in frustration. Wandering through the area and looking for any signs of his nephews in places they visited earlier that day, he wondered if Óin had any luck. The healer was waiting at their home in case Fíli and Kíli returned there on their own. Perhaps the three of them were already sitting by the fire, with Óin telling the boys countless amusing stories, while Thorin and his companions were checking every nook and cranny on the lower level, going out of their minds with worry. He raised his head, listening to a peculiar sound and trying to figure out its source. It sounded like… shrieking. It was not at all difficult to recall Fíli’s eyes shining with fear, awe, and then curiosity at the sight of the washing barrel.

Without thinking, Thorin turned his steps towards the chamber that housed the “monster” Fíli had been so afraid of not so long ago.

When Thorin arrived at his destination, the door was ajar. Thorin could hear the shrieking very well, but there were other sounds too. Very familiar sounds.

He took a deep breath and shouted, “Dwalin! I found them!”

***

When Thorin stepped inside the chamber, the sounds became even clearer. One of them he identified as uncontrollable giggling, and the other one, slightly muted, sounded like: “Woooo! Woooo! Wooooo! A carousel! Woooo! Faster, Fíli! Woooo!”

Thorin breathed out a sigh of relief only to be struck by a pang of dread a moment later.

Fíli stood by the washing barrel, cranking the lever, grinning from ear to ear, and laughing. Kíli was nowhere to be seen, but his enthusiastic shouts seemed to be coming from inside of the barrel. Inside, not outside. Thorin swallowed; he considered screaming in terror, but something told him that this was most definitely an example of behaviour unworthy of a king. It took him a moment to melt the ball of ice that was forming in his stomach. He closed the distance between him and the barrel in a blink of an eye.

Thank Mahal, the hatch was open. Inside, Kíli sat with his back against a wall of the large metal container inside the machine, surrounded by various articles of laundry, with a happy grin on his face, and a stray sock on top of his head. A wave of relief washed over Thorin.

“Uncle Thorin! Uncle Thorin!” Fíli exclaimed. “We’re playing carousel! Want to jump in?”

Thorin did not.

“It is time to return home, boys,” Thorin simply said, taking Kíli out of the barrel. His clothes were damp and he smelled like those violet flowers Dís liked so much, but other than that, he looked happy, and what’s more important, he was in one piece – just like his older brother.

“But uncle...” Fíli started.

“Your amad will be home soon. Do you not want to see what she bought at the market?”

“A sugar horse? She promised!” The boy recalled his favourite treat.

Holding Kíli firmly against his chest with one arm, Thorin held out his hand to Fíli.

“Let us go and see,” he said with a smile as his nephew’s tiny hand grabbed his.

There would yet be time for scolding and for a conversation about not sneaking out anywhere alone, but for now, the only thing that Thorin wanted was to safely bring his little rascals home.

He only hoped they would manage to reach their halls before Dís returned.

***

When Dís crossed the threshold of their home later in the afternoon, she was greeted by complete silence. Her sons were nowhere to be seen, which was very suspicious. They were always the first ones to run to her and see what she brought them this time. She expected Thorin to welcome her and help her unpack her basket, as usual — but he was not there either. Was this that ominous silence she dreaded so much whenever her boys were executing another of their silly mischiefs? Not really. It seemed as if their home was empty… until she heard a familiar sound coming from a nearby chamber. Dís put the basket on the floor and tiptoed deeper into their halls.

The picture that unfolded before her eyes was the last thing she had expected. Her brother was half sitting, half lying on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him, his head resting on the backrest, his eyes closed. Fíli was cuddled up to his uncle’s side, his hair tousled, making her think of a skein of golden yarn. Kíli lay on the opposite side of his uncle, his head resting on Thorin’s lap and turned towards her. He had his thumb in his mouth. Dís could clearly see the darker stain of drool on her brother’s trousers and stifled a giggle.

All three of them were asleep, of course. And all three of them were snoring in perfect unison. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine that she had a working sawmill in front of her.

This scene was too adorable for Dís to interrupt it, so she decided that she would let her three boys sleep a little longer. There was no harm in a little nap, after all. Besides, she was tired, and there was still some space left on the sofa…As she drifted off to sleep beside them, her last conscious thought was: “Why do all three of them smell like my lavender laundry soap?”

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fili-urzudel · 6 months

Text

Porridge - Kíli Durin x Reader

Just a cute little winter themed drabble for our favorite little brother.

Warnings: mentions of broken bones, mentions of near-death, light crying, homesickness

Word Count: 0.6k

"Come in," the voice was muffled.

"How's my favorite—what in Aule's name," Kíli interrupted himself. Most likely because while he was expecting to find you on your bed, in your place was a very high pile of blankets, covering from the foot to the headboard.

"Shove it," the blanket pile groaned.

"What, are you hiding your shame?" Kíli chuckled, drawing closer and probing a corner of the bed before sitting down.

"No!" You exclaimed, finally throwing off the layers of blankets. "I—help me up, please," you muttered, and he obliged before you continued. "I have nothing to be ashamed of, that cliff was steep and I blame you for thinking it was a good idea to climb it—"

"When you said you adored goats, I assumed that meant you had some degree of their skill," Kíli smirked.

"—and I happen to be hiding from the cold because your mountain is bloody freezing," you finished with a dramatic pout.

"It's a mountain. In winter. Honestly, khebabmudtu, what were you expecting?" He teased, having found his way to the head of the bed and leaning his head against his hand, his elbow propped on the headboard.

He felt himself freeze when he noticed tears welling in your eyes.

"Hey," he said, voice softer. "What's wrong?"

"It's never this cold back home," you whimpered. "And no one here makes porridge the way Ma made it, and I can't make it myself because of my daft ankle, and I—I just..." you sighed, breaking off. "I miss home but I want to stay here, too."

Kíli frowned. He had seen you upset, sure, and he had seen you heartbroken—sure as Mahal when you thought he was dead—and he had more than definitely seen you angry. But he had never seen you distressed over something that even you would consider trivial.

"You mind?" he asked, already lifting the stack of the blanket corners to slide into the generous bed with you. You shook your head quickly.

"I'm not sure that it counts for much, but I understand," he said slowly. "I spent most of my life in Ered Luin, and I still feel a little homesick for it sometimes. I can't imagine what a big difference it is from the Southlands. But I'm glad you chose to stay here."

"God only knows why," you sniffled.

"Well, I was hoping for me," Kíli smiled, and you rolled your eyes. "But seriously, khebabmudtu, we all love having you here. Anything that can help make you stay, I'll do it."

You gave a grin-grimace. "Thanks, Kí," you said, and leaned into his side, much to his surprise. He was all too happy to wrap an arm around your shoulders to keep you there. "What does that word mean?"

He hesitated for a moment. "What word?"

"Khebabmudtu," you said, stumbling a bit over the consonants.

"Heart forge," he whispered, and when you looked up at him, confused, he knew he had to say it louder. "It means heart-forge. The forge where my heart is made."

"Hmm," you hummed shortly, snuggling into his ribs. "I bet you say that to all your lady friends."

He wanted to laugh. He couldn't believe you still didn't believe that he was the ugly brother. "No," he replied simply instead. "Just you."

Just you.

You liked the sound of that.

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guardianofrivendell · 2 years

Text

Drunk in Love

Fíli x wife!reader

Requested: yes, by @carnotaurus-celeste, back in January for my 2022 followers sleepover. Sorry it took me so long! This was a gif drabble request (that got a bit out of hand), the gif they chose is similar to the one I put underneath.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, drunk Dwarves, adorable Fíli, not proofread

A/N: this was my last request from the January sleepover, only about 8 months late lol :) It was a way to try and get out of my writing block. Enjoy drunk Fíli!

Still half asleep you turned on your other side, clutching the sheets and furs in an attempt to keep the warmth inside your little cocoon, and scooted over to Fíli’s side of the bed in search of his body heat.

Being married to a Dwarf meant you never had to feel cold anymore, his body your own private furnace he was more than happy for you to use at any time. Every night you fell asleep in his arms, your cheek pressed into the soft curls of his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent while you let his heartbeat guide you to the land of dreams.

But your searching fingers didn’t find the heated skin you were looking for, instead finding a cold and empty spot where your husband was supposed to be sleeping.

You opened your eyes and sat up straight, looking around the dimly lit room for any sign of Fíli. The fire was still smoldering, which meant it had to be in the early hours of the night, too early for breakfast, but too late to be waking up to an empty bed. Where was he?

Fíli and you didn’t go to bed together that night, for the first time since well… your wedding night. The reason for this change of pace was very simple: last night marked the seven year anniversary of the reclaiming of Erebor and almost five year anniversary of the rebuild, and as the newly set tradition went there was a grand feast to celebrate.

Even though you had been enjoying the festivities - the sight of the Durin family and Company members being happy and carefree warmed your heart every time - as the feast went on, you grew rather tired.

When the clock struck midnight, you’d left Fíli in the company of his brother and their friends in the Great Hall, and that’s where you probably had the most chance of finding him at this hour. Or you hoped so, because the last thing you wanted to do was roam the halls of Erebor in your nightshift in search of your husband. You could only imagine the rumors that would go around at the breakfast table!

You stepped out of bed and shivered when the cold of the night greeted you, so you quickly let your feet glide into your thick fur boots and threw your winter robe on to cover yourself.

Fíli was most likely still celebrating and simply lost track of time, nothing to worry about, but you couldn’t suppress the tiny voice at the back of your mind that kept repeating something was wrong.

What if he was so drunk he lost his way or he fell off one of the many bridges or stairs? When you’d suggested railings for them during one of the many construction meetings, everyone bursted out in laughter. “The first Dwarf to lose their footing on stone is yet to be born, lass,” they’d laughed, wiping the tears out of their eyes. You never thought about asking again.

You kept your pace steady but fast, a little slower when you crossed a bridge or stairway, making sure to check every corner and every nook in case your husband decided in his drunken haze that it was a perfect place to settle for the night.

But the hallways of Erebor were abandoned and eerily quiet, as they should be at that hour.

As you reached the corridor that led to the Great Hall, the sounds of careless laughter and chatter swelled. The celebrations were definitely not over yet, and just like you guessed, your husband wasn’t done partying.

Fíli was standing on top of one of the long dining tables, feet firmly planted between dirty plates and empty beer mugs, his brother Kíli at the other end, their friends scattered around the table, watching them dance and perform a drinking song.

You leaned against the heavy open door and watched the scene with mirth. Up until now you hadn’t had the pleasure to see your husband so inebriated and… well, carefree.

“Fee, catch!” Kíli yelled and next thing you knew, one of the dirty plates flew across the table right into Fíli’s outstretched hand. The crowd surrounding them cheered and encouraged by their fans, Kíli started another song, one you knew quite well.

Blunt the knives, bend the forks!

And just like that you were thrown back to that cozy hobbit hole in the Shire, when you’d first laid eyes on your husband, at the time a total stranger to you. Even though the last few years had taken a toll on him - both mentally and physically - he was still as handsome as ever and he still managed to fill your belly with butterflies as his rich baritone filled the great hall.

Both brothers had some difficulties getting the song right, their words slurred and lyrics in the wrong order but there was no denying they were having the time of their lives. By the time the song had ended the tableware stood perfectly stacked in the center of the table and everyone in the hall burst out in laughter and applause.

You applauded along with everyone else and it didn’t take long for Fíli’s eyes to meet yours.

“Amrâlimê!” he exclaimed, his face splitting in a wide toothy smile, his mustache braids dangling under his nose as he moved towards you. They’d grown a few inches in the past years and you wondered if he would keep them as they were, or maybe start braiding them into his beard.

Fíli threw his arms around you and lifted you from the ground, spinning you both around until he started to sway and he had to let you go in order to grab the door frame.

“Everyone! Thiz iz my wife!” he yelled, throwing an arm around your waist. “Kíli!! Come and meet my w-wife!”

You had to hold back a laugh. “Fíli, your brother knows who I am. Everyone here knows me.”

Fíli’s eyes widened at that and his features turned from incredibly happy to heartbroken in a matter of seconds. You patted his chest in an attempt to comfort him, but it made him stumble again and you quickly grabbed a nearby chair for him to sit on.

With a heavy sigh he let himself drop in the chair, arms crossed and with an incredibly adorable pout on his lips. There was nothing you wanted to do more than kiss it away and make him smile again, but you were in a crowded Great Hall wearing a robe and your nightclothes. Not the best place.

“What’s wrong, yasthûnê?” (my husband)

He crossed his arms. “How come they all knew you before I did?”

You couldn’t help it. You giggled. You hadn’t giggled in you don’t know how long, always thinking it was for dainty girls with golden curls and rosy cheeks. But drunk Fíli was hilarious. And cute, very very cute.

At the sound of your giggle he lifted his head to look at you and his mouth fell open.

“Mahal, you’re gorg- gorsh- groce-,” he tried to get the word out but his tongue betrayed him every time, until he gave up with a frustrated groan. “You’re really prrrretty, you know zat?”

“Yes Fíli, you tell me every day.”

“Your huzband iz one lucky Dwarf,” he hiccuped, his smile dropping when he clearly believed you were out of his reach. There was no use in trying to let him know he was the husband he was talking about and that he had referred to you as his wife not even five minutes ago, clearly too far gone now.

“I’ll make sure to let him know,” you said, cupping his cheek. He placed his hand over yours to keep it there and closed his eyes, clearly enjoying your touch.

It gave you time to look around the Great Hall, your eyes roaming around the room until they spotted the Dwarf you were looking for.

Kíli was still standing on top of the table, belting out some Elvish song - or something that was supposed to resemble Elvish, you couldn’t decipher a single word. You gestured towards Bofur, asking him to take care of the youngest Durin and to make sure someone helped him get to his chambers safely. Both of them were lucky Thorin wasn’t here to see them like this.

Bofur chuckled as he saw the state Fíli was in. “D’you need help with your lad as well?”

You shook your head, “I got it covered, thank you.”

Fíli’s hand dropped in his lap and you thought he fell asleep for a moment, until he let out a disappointed grunt when you removed your hand from his cheek.

“Come on handsome, let’s get you to bed,” you smiled, helping him get to his feet. Fíli groaned, finally realizing how tired he was.

“Fine, ‘m going to bed wiz you,” he gave in, before he let his voice drop to a whisper. Well, you were sure he thought he was whispering, in reality he was shouting the whole corridor awake. “But my wife won’t like this!”

It took you almost half an hour to get him to your chambers, shushing him every time he tried to sing and guiding him in the right direction when he tried to wander off. By the time you finally reached your chamber doors, your back was covered in sweat and Fíli was getting clingy.

Undressing your husband was something you’d normally like to take slowly, enjoying the sight of every newly uncovered patch of skin, caressing it with a kiss or featherlight touch until goosebumps appeared while you worked to get every piece of clothing on the ground. Now however, you couldn’t work fast enough.

You left him bare chested but still in his breeches, relieved you were finally able to get to sleep again as you gently pushed him towards the bed. And that’s when Fíli started to resist.

“Miss, I’ll have you know that I’m a married man… Dwarf,” he muttered, voice already thick with sleep. “I love my wife very muts- oof!”

You’d pushed him on the bed and before he had the chance to get up again, you grabbed his legs and lifted them onto the mattress. As soon as his head hit the pillow and his body sank into the fluffy covers of the mattress, he sighed in contentment. He wasn’t going anywhere.

The furs you’d left on the bed earlier would keep him warm during the night, even though you didn’t think he would need it. You quickly ran to the bathroom to fetch a bucket, in case he would get sick during the night and placed a pitcher with water on his bedside table.

You watched him lay there for a few seconds, completely at peace, not a single sign of stress on his face. The deep crease between his brows was gone, the tension in his neck nowhere to be seen.

You couldn’t resist and gently wiped a few loose hairs from his forehead. Fíli opened his eyes, blinking a few times in slow motion so he could focus on your face and a lazy smile appeared when he recognized you.

He lifted his head and placed a soft peck on your lips.

“Mahal, you’re beautiful,” he whispered and returned the gesture, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. “So beautiful.”

“Fíli-”

“Ssshhh,” he shushed you, pressing his finger on your lips. “Don’t tell my wife.”

You chuckled as you tucked him in and kissed his forehead, not even surprised to hear his soft snores again.

“I’m pretty sure she already knows,” you whispered before you crawled next to him.

You couldn’t wait to tell him all about it in the morning.

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Fíli taglist: @bluewingedangel @spidergirla5 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @clumsy-wonderland @i-always-come-back-xoxo

#Fili #Fili x reader #Fili x you #The Hobbit #The Hobbit fanfiction #The Hobbit imagine #The Hobbit drabble #Fili Durin #Fili x y/n #The Hobbit x reader #Erebor #Guardianofrivendell

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ema0rsully · 2 months

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Ok, hear me out. Au idea here.

What if after death, spirits get to choose whether or not to leave or to stay for any unaccounted business.

So imagine, when Boromir was trusted with arrows and died, he had the chance to go to heaven but he was like “No, I need to protect the little ones” and the Valars were like, “Ok, sure man. Do your thing. No rush”.

He goes back to watch over Merry and Pippin in the hopes that it will provide some closure to see them safe and sound somehow, but only to encounter a couple of dwarrows by their side. He could tell by their wild long hair and the braids sticking out. Also the short height.

Boromir: I’m sorry but are you acquaintances of the hobbits?

The dwarrows chuckled and shook their heads leaving the man confused, leading him to ask again.

Boromir: Well, we should properly introduce ourselves since I have no clue who you are. I am-

“We know who ya are, mate! No need for introductions!” The blonde one says before shaking Boromir’s hand.

“The names Fíli.” The blonde smiled warmly. The other smiled too, “Kíli.”.

Then the two bowed “At yer service!”.

Kíli patted Boromir’s back,

Kíli: Ya fought well for a Man

Boromir: Oh, I dont think I did enough. I couldn’t save them-

Fíli: Ya did yer best, mate. Thats what matters. Yer kin would be proud to know ya fought honourably

And this makes Boromir smile and feel a little bit at ease. Then the three spirits continue to follow the Orcs that held Merry and Pippin hostage all while Fíli and Kíli told Boromir about The Company and their adventure with Bilbo Baggins.

Edit: I did not know it was called a sansukh. Lol. I just started reading the fanfic and it finally made sense to me now. Lol.

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ironmandeficiency · 1 year

Text

the company + helping their s/o with insomnia

characters included: thorin, fíli, kíli, dwalin, bofur

word count: 941

summary: how a few members of thorin’s company help their s/o with their insomnia

a/n: again, i wrote these at an ungodly hour even tho i had important things to do today

thorin 🪵

with his duties as king, thorin is quite the night owl

he tends to stay up late working on important documents, reading through correspondence, doing everything but resting

you keep him company on many of those nights, humming softly as you read novels or tend to your own royal duties across the room when sleep evades you (which is nearly always)

he’ll notice when you start to sink further in your armchair, taking that as his cue to put you to bed

“come, my queen, we must rest for the night” he whispers, sliding his arms under your back and behind your knees to carry you to bed

your indignant grumble is met with a soft chuckle, your husband reassuring you that he is joining you

once you’re tucked in, he slides himself under the blankets with you and hums lullabies until you both doze off

fíli 🗡️

despite how long fíli has known you, he will never understand how in mahal’s great mines you are so elusive after sundown

during the day, he knows exactly how to find you and never worries about where you happen to be. but under the light of the moon, you slip through his fingers and seemingly vanish with the breeze

he knows that you like to go on walks to burn off energy you didn’t use during the day; without your evening walks, you’re tossing and turning like mad

you’re almost never in the same place twice; he’s found you roaming the mines chatting with bofur, reading books by the light of the forges, and on one evening you were in the kitchens with bombur chowing down on midnight snacks

tonight he finds you in the royal library, drool escaping from your lips onto a book older than the both of you combined

he spots balin and the old advisor grins at the sight of you snoozing on the dusty tome

your golden prince gently slides the book from under your head, adjusting your body so he can carry you to bed without much jostling

kíli 🏹

you’ve known that kíli was a massive cuddler since you were children in the blue mountains

he had a penchant for being able to sleep nearly anywhere growing up, and since you both were glued to each other by the hip since pebblehood, you were his permanent best friend and cuddle buddy no matter where you were

the older you got, sleep began avoiding you like a plague unless you had kee by your side. it was such a problem that he lived with you in every way but by name, having his own side of the bed and a good chunk of his clothes in your dresser

when he went on the quest for erebor with his brother and uncle, your insomnia returned with a vengeance that rivaled the angriest dwarf

reuniting with kíli in erebor was what kept you energized once everyone heard the news, your body running on willpower and dís’s mothering

when he saw you for the first time in the newly reclaimed kingdom he was concerned. he told thorin in no uncertain terms that he’d be spending the next few days helping you find the rest you’ve been so desperately missing

if there were confessions of love and kisses and beads exchanged between the naps, no one needed to know

dwalin 🪓

the best way he knows how to help someone sleep is through physical exertion. as a seasoned warrior, he knows with absolute certainty that waving hefty weapons around for long enough will get anyone an immediate audience with the sandman

when he feels you tossing and turning in bed, he’ll coax you out to the training grounds and spar with you until your eyelids begin to droop and your stance gets sloppy

you’ll be dead on your feet as your husband scoops you into his arms, silently carrying you back to your rooms with a fond smile (the smile is for you, his signature glare is for the guards under his command daring them to say anything disparaging about you)

laying you on the bed, his callused hands remove your clothing piece by piece, massaging your muscles as he works your tunic over your head and trousers down your legs

a soft nightgown is eased over your head before he bundles you up in the blankets. he joins you and simply runs his hands along your skin soothingly

it doesn’t matter what time it is, if dwalin can help you find rest, he will do whatever he has to do

bofur ⛏️

either bofur doesn’t see how some of the other miners stare at him, or he simply doesn’t give a flying fuck

most nights while he works, you’ll be found in a smallish rolling bed nearby where he’s working. you’re not always sleeping, sometimes simply resting or reading a book while you wait for your dwarf

it was an idea bifur had when bofur lamented to his brother about your discomfort and lack of genuine rest, and it helped a lot

there are occasional breaks in his work, bofur always taking a moment to kiss you sweetly and relay some of the fresh miner’s gossip (honestly, they rival the midwives with how much they talk)

when bofur is free from his duties, he’ll rouse you from whatever state you’re in and guide you back home with a steady hand and a smile

as you walk, he’ll update you on all the juicy rumors and drama and only half-finish his stories as you both fall into bed for the night

nothing anyone can say will convince him to not show you how much you are loved and appreciated

#thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader #fíli durin #fíli durin x reader #kíli durin #kíli durin x reader #dwalin x reader #dwalin #bofur #bofur x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit drabble #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit reader insert #the hobbit trilogy #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings imagine #the hobbit imagine

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runesandramblings · 11 months

Text

Dance With Me

Word Count: 2300

Pairings: Kili x reader

Warnings: None

Description: A company of thirteen dwarves interrupts a peaceful afternoon for the niece of Lord Elrond.

Requested by @dreaming-doodle 🩷 Took a few liberties but I hope you enjoy!

“Lady (Y/N), do you require anything more?”

You lounged back in the crystal tub as the warm water washed soothingly over your body. The flower petals and oils in the water mingled together beautifully, making the air smell sweet. A goblet of your favorite elven berry wine rested on the edge of the tub, and through the open window you could hear light strains of string music drifting in.

“No, thank you. That will be all.” You smiled kindly at the elf handmaiden as she bowed her head and disappeared from the room.

“I could get used to this.” You mumbled, slipping down further into the perfectly drawn bath and closing your eyes.

Your uncle, Elrond, was the Lord of Rivendell. It was typical for you to come on an extended vacation to visit him and your cousin, Arwen, during the spring months. You lived a simpler life with your family in another elven kingdom. The luxuries of Rivendell were never lost on you. Every time you came to visit, your uncle tried to persuade you to stay. Although it was tempting, given the exquisite treatment you were always given during your stay, you never did. You had family back home, and it didn’t feel right to leave permanently.

You lost track of the time as you lounged in the tub, sipping the wine and listening to the faint music you could hear coming from below. As you went to take another drink from your goblet, you jumped at the sound of clanging and crashing coming from the courtyard below your window. Your eyes flew open. What could that have possibly been? You paused for a moment, straining your ears to hear the source of the commotion. Just as you moved to lean back against the tub again, you heard another loud clash and clank.

“What is going on?” You muttered, annoyed that your peaceful bath had been disturbed. You stepped out of the tub and threw your silk robe around your body, not even bothering to dry off first. As you stormed out of your private bathroom and out into the hall, you were greeted by your uncle standing apologetically by your door.

“Uncle Elrond, what is that insufferable noise?” You asked, gesturing backward toward the balcony that ran from your bedroom to the bathroom. “It’s coming from the courtyard. Is everything alright?”

Your uncle looked unbothered, as he usually did.

“Everything is fine. We have some unexpected dinner guests.” He said simply.

You felt an eyebrow raise curiously.

“Dinner guests?” You questioned.

“Yes.” He continued. “A company of dwarves traveling through. Will you join us?”

An hour later you were dressed for dinner and heading down the stairs. Your bathrobe had been replaced by more appropriate dinner attire, a light green velvet dress that hung off of your shoulders and flowed out into a short train behind you. The handmaiden Elrond had left to attend you had styled your hair and placed a delicate silver headpiece, very similar to the one your uncle and cousin wore, atop your head.

As you rounded the corner into the dining space you could hear the ruckus of several voices speaking over one another. It drowned out the pleasant strains of the harp and flute players that often accompanied dinner. You’d never met any dwarves in person, but they certainly seemed like a rowdy bunch.

You felt all the eyes of the room turn to you as you entered. Without giving any of the guests a second glance you made your way to the table Elrond sat at, along with a shorter, bearded man you took to be the dwarves’ leader. And…

“Gandalf.” You said, smiling widely at the wizard. “Uncle Elrond didn’t tell me you were here!”

Gandalf stood, smiling in return as he took your hand and planted a delicate kiss on it.

“My dear, you look as lovely as ever. Elrond did not tell me you were here either.”

Your uncle and the dwarf both stood as well, and as you turned your attention to the much smaller man he nodded tightly, not bothering to reach out and take your hand.

“(Y/N), this is Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin, this is my niece.”

Thorin nodded once again as Elrond made your introduction, still not bothering to so much as shake your hand. Something told you that dwarves were not ones for pleasantries.

You nodded politely in return as Elrond gestured for one of the servants to bring an extra chair. You quickly lifted your hand as well, indicating that it would not be necessary.

“It’s no trouble, uncle. There is a free seat over there. I’ll make some new friends.”

You could feel several pairs of eyes following you as you moved to sit at the last remaining empty seat at the longer table. It was between two younger of the dwarves, one blonde with beaded braids woven into his hair and mustache, and the other a brunette with a strange hat and twisted pigtails. You smiled kindly at the two as you approached.

“Is this seat taken?”

Both stared at you momentarily before they each shook their heads, indicating that you were welcome to sit.

“I’m (Y/N).” You said, offering an introduction as you settled into your seat.

“Bofur.” Said the one on the right with the braided pigtails.

The one on the left offered a cheeky grin as he took your hand in his.

“Fili, my lady. It’s an honor to meet you.”

You looked across the table at the dwarf who sat before you. He appeared to be young as well, with long dark hair and stubble in place of a full beard. He was looking at you uncertainly, with a shy smile across his face.

“And you?”

“M-me?” He stuttered out.

You giggled.

“Your name, sir.”

“Oh. Uh, Kili.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kili.”

The table remained deathly quiet as everyone ate. You were well aware of the tensions that existed between elves and dwarves; mostly due to the distant Mirkwood elves, who were known to be quite unwelcoming. You hoped their experience in Rivendell might be a good one. Hopefully they’d leave with a better opinion of the elves.

“So…” You finally started “What brings you this way?”

The confidence of your question finally opened the floodgates from the others. They began speaking, mostly over the top of each other, as they clamored to tell you of their quest. As they spoke you caught a glimpse of Thorin over Kili’s shoulder, glaring at the table. You weren’t sure they were supposed to be telling you the full details of their journey, but they certainly didn’t shy away.

The youngest dwarf sitting across from you had particularly piqued your interest. As you spoke with the others he watched you, joining in the conversation occasionally, but mostly watching as you spoke. He had soft, gentle eyes and a kind smile.

Before you knew what was happening you saw Bofur jump up from his seat beside you. You’d partially overheard some of the dwarves complaining about the music.

“Alright lads, there’s only one thing for it.” He said, running around the table. He jumped up on top of a smaller table and began to sing, stomping his foot along to the music.

The others joined in immediately, clapping in time or banging the table along with the beat. You found yourself jumping in as well, clapping along and laughing as several of the dwarves began hurling food at Bofur’s head. You enjoyed their merriment, their carefree attitude. Many elves were high strung, often too concerned with proper etiquette and manners. The dwarves did not seem to care what anyone around them thought.

As Bofur launched into a second song a few members of the company began to stand up and dance. You beamed at the opportunity, as you also got to your feet. You grew up dancing in your homeland. It was one of your favorite things to do. Although the beat Bofur was stomping out was a little more fast paced than you were used to, you were sure you could keep up.

You saw Kili watching you shyly as you stood, and you felt a small flutter in your stomach at the young dwarf’s longing stare. You circled the table to stand beside him and extended your hand.

“Dance with me?”

He beamed in return as he took your outstretched hand in his.

“I’d be honored, my lady.”

As he stood you remembered the small height difference between elves and dwarves; the top of his head came to rest just at the tip of your chin. Neither of you seemed to mind, as Kili’s beaming smile never faltered. He tugged on your hand and led you away from the table, to a clear space on the floor where you would have room to move. He placed one hand on your waist as you rested yours on his shoulder, and with your free hands you held each other’s. Kili quickly walked you through the steps to a dance the dwarves seemed familiar with. You were a quick learner, and within moments you were expertly moving back and forth with Kiil, your footwork matching his exactly.

You danced together through many more of Bofur’s upbeat songs. The pure joy radiating from Kili’s smile made your knees feel weak, and you couldn’t help but wish to know the dwarf better. There was a pull you felt toward him, and you were saddened by the fact that he was to leave in the morning.

As the dishes began to clear away and Bofur stepped down from the table, Thorin came back around to stand in front of his company.

“Everybody, get some rest. We set off early tomorrow morning.”

You felt a pang of sadness as you realized the evening was over. Thorin seemed like a strict leader, and you were certain he would not allow Kili to remain in your company while the others went off to their rooms.

Or, would he…

You caught a glimpse of your uncle from over Kili’s shoulder. He had a knowing smile on his face, as if he’d noticed the budding friendship between you and the young dwarf you danced with. He gave you a subtle nod before turning to Thorin and catching his attention. As soon as he turned his back to the company, who had slowly begun to filter out of the room, you turned back to face Kili.

He gave you a wistful smile as he turned to walk away as well. Without thinking you tightened your grip on his hand, and he turned around to look at you curiously.

“How do you feel about a walk?” You asked quietly.

He grinned mischievously in response. He glanced over his shoulder, checking to make sure Thorin was not watching, before turning back to you.

“Lead the way, my lady.”

While Thorin’s back was still turned you quickly slipped Kili down the stairs and in the direction of one of Rivendell’s many gardens. It was your favorite, and always had been. This garden in particular held Elrond’s collection of rare plants and flowers, items he’d picked up from all over Middle Earth and replanted. Most did not have the skill to care for foreign plants, but the elves had their ways.

You led him down the paths of exotic blooms, showing him your favorites and explaining where each one had come from. You felt his eyes mostly on you as you spoke, and not the plants. As you walked together the conversation drifted from the garden to yourselves. He spoke of his family, it turned out the angry elder dwarf was his uncle, and his purpose in joining the quest. You told him of your home and your reasons for visiting your own uncle. You exchanged stories for what felt like an eternity and no time at all. It wasn’t until you realized it was too dark to see the flowers around you that you remembered the time. Kili had been gone for a while, and you were certain Thorin would not appreciate your kidnapping of his nephew.

“I should probably get back.” He said, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Thorin has enough reason to distrust the elves without my disappearance adding to them.”

You nodded in agreement as you began to steer the two of you back in the direction of the rooms in which the dwarves were housed. Kili insisted on walking you to your chambers first, and as you neared your bedroom door you felt your steps begin to slow. You had only just met, but already you hated the thought of him leaving.

As you turned around to say goodnight you saw Kili holding a flower in his outstretched hand. A delicate, pink and white bloom with spiky petals. You recognized it as a favorite of yours from Elrond’s garden.

“For you, my lady.” He said as he placed it gently behind your ear.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to pick those.” You giggled, accepting the flower nonetheless. You reached up and tucked your hair around it to keep it in place.

He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a delicate kiss against your skin. His touch sent goosebumps across your arm, and despite having just met him you felt yourself longing for more.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Should our quest end successfully, I might be inclined to pay a visit.” He smiled and gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he stepped back, walking backward for several steps in order to keep his eyes on you a little longer.

You felt another flutter as you leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he slowly disappeared from sight.

“Please do.”

Maybe you’d stay in Rivendell a while after all.

#kili durin #the hobbit #Kili #kili x reader #kili x you #kili x y/n #kili imagine #the hobbit one shot #the hobbit imagine #an unexpected journey #kíli #kíli x reader

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khazadaimenu · 28 days

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Sadly, I’ve spent the last two months reading countless fics so cannot recall specific titles but I do know Ive read Fili beating up Thorin at least once. I DO remember that Comes Around Again by scarletjedi features Fili on the VERGE of decking Thorin (in a very heartfelt scene) so I can recommend that at least.

People should write angry Fili more! I like to think that, as the older, more responsible sibling he’s got some unresolved dad (uncle) issues that goldsickness absolutely did not help

I’m so shamefully late with my reply to this, I’m so sorry!

But I really appreciated your fic rec, I’m on it! Actually, him being on the verge of decking Thorin is better than him going through with it. And just in general, I’d love to see more fics where Fili gets to be the one who shakes Thorin out of his goldsickness.

And completely agree people should write angry Fili more. There’s a lot he has to be pissed off about :D I second every bit of your uncle issues headcanon lol.

Especially after Thorin doesn’t let him go over the wall, tries to get him to throw Bilbo over the ramparts and then after his recovery only acknowledges Kíli with a headbutt, I always imagine Fili being filled with cold fury and that’s why he’s so distant in that scene.

This became a rant, but it always does when it comes to Fili and getting to gush about him with a fellow fan! Thank you for sending this in! <3

#the hobbit #fili #fili durin #fíli #fíli durin #thorin oakenshield #fili the hobbit #fili the dwarf #fili my beloved #fic rec #fili fic rec #the hobbit fic rec

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blairsanne · 1 month

Text

An Unexpected Blue Wizard (9)

Summary: Another brush with death on the road has tempers flaring and Thorin questioning both his judgment and feelings.

Cross posted to AO3. Chapter 1 on tumblr.

Chapter 9: Crossing

Bofur was just dishing out the first servings of their breakfast as he sensed a hush fall over the group. He looked up to see the other members of the company all looking subtly over in the same direction, toward Bilbo and Andréa.

Bilbo laughed softly as he tried his hand again, fingers tangling somewhat in the long brown hair to the side of Andréa’s face.

“I don’t think that’s quite right.” “You almost had it that time.”

She grinned and took his clumsy braid into her hands to swiftly undo it.

“You just want three sections to start, and make sure you do left and right alternately instead of twice on one side… Does that even make sense?”

She laughed as she showed him again.

“Okay, I think I understand…”

He chewed his lower lip as he took the long strands in his hands again and continued the plait that she had started.

She watched with a pleased grin as he practiced. “Yes, much better.”

“What are you two up to?” Bofur appeared before them with two servings of breakfast, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Oh, thank you!” Andréa took her meal from him. “I was just showing Bilbo how to do a braid.”

“Not sure how Nori manages it,” Bilbo added self-deprecatingly as Bofur handed him the other bowl.

“Och, just takes practice.” Bofur winked. “Be sure to keep at it.”

Bilbo laughed under his breath as he began to eat.

Dwalin noted the subtle irritation on Thorin’s already-grumpy face as he finally tore his eyes from Bilbo to eat his breakfast.

Bofur tried not to laugh when he handed Fíli and Kíli their own meals. “You think our burglar will get the hang of it?” he asked lightly, but quietly enough that Andréa and Bilbo wouldn’t hear it across the way.

Kíli frowned. “He hardly needs to, he’s not got enough to braid.”

Kíli wasn’t jealous, exactly. He held no belief that Andréa had a romantic interest in Bilbo, but watching another person braid her hair - something so intimate in dwarvish culture - didn’t sit quite right with him either.

“Don’t imagine wizards nor hobbits think of braids as we do,” Fíli remarked before popping a forkful of potato into his mouth.

Kíli shrugged, feigning disinterest, but it didn’t fool his older brother. Still, Fíli let it go. There was no sense riling Kíli up first thing in the morning.

Andréa shook the braid loose once more, then quickly put her hair up in her usual style before digging into her own meal.

Kíli relaxed as he watched her subtly across the camp.

She looked in good spirits, at least, her injury now healed, and she seemed to have slept alright for what Kíli thought might have been the first night since Gandalf had left. She may not have been openly complaining every time, but he’d seen the weariness in her face and body language.

Maybe today will be a good day.

---

When they came upon a wooden bridge to cross the wide river, Thorin ordered them all to dismount and walk their ponies across in single file.

The planks that sat only a few feet above the rushing water looked like they’d seen better days, some already broken in spots.

Thorin led the charge, testing each piece of wood before moving his pony along.

Andréa was near the front of the group, and once she was safely on the other side, she remounted Pansy and watched carefully as the others crossed.

Bilbo remounted Myrtle and led her over to where Thorin was drinking from his waterskin.

“Not much of a bridge, if you ask me,” Bilbo remarked lightly. He thought back to the wide, sturdy bridge over the Brandywine River back home.

Thorin felt impatient despite being the one to have ordered their slow, careful crossing. The orc attacks and Gandalf’s disappearance had made him uneasy, but he daren’t say so aloud.

“So long as it allows passage across the water, it’ll do,” he huffed.

Bilbo nodded, then shrugged, his mind on the Shire. He thought it must be nearly mid-day, and his stomach gave a familiar hunger pang that he knew he’d have to ignore a while longer.

Fíli was the last in line, slowly directing his pony behind Kíli’s. “You sure you don’t want to go for a swim again, Kí?” “Very funny, Fí,” Kíli called back.

Suddenly there came a terrible cracking sound, and Kíli’s pony let out an awful shriek as it fell through the wooden beam that had been supporting it.

Kíli tried to catch it, pulling on the reins, but instead he was dragged off into the river after it, disappearing beneath the rolling water before he could react.

Fíli acted on instinct, letting go of his own reins to dive in after his brother.

He caught a brief glimpse of Kíli beneath the waves, eyes stinging from the cold water, barely able to see as he tried to reach him. His intention was to help Kíli out, though now that he was in the thick of it, he could barely direct himself in the rushing water - not so much swimming as being pushed along by the current.

He broke the surface and took deep breaths, seeing Kíli’s wet mop of dark hair ahead of him before being pulled under again.

Fíli fought the instinct to cough out the water he’d accidentally inhaled as he tried to surface again, but he felt a sudden pain and then lost consciousness.

Meanwhile, Andréa had raced off down the river on her pony, fast as lightning and overshooting where the brothers were.

“Where’s she going?” Ori cried, while Thorin turned his pony to follow.

A short distance from where Kíli’s head sputtered above the rushing river, Andréa jumped from her pony and landed at the water’s edge.

She pounded her staff into the wet pebbles of the shore, and a huge blast of air shot out, creating a dam that left a wide gap of dry land across the river.

Fish and twigs fell out of the wall of water, and then, finally, two dwarves and a pony.

Kíli’s pony quickly righted itself and galloped over toward Thorin’s pony as he approached.

Kíli coughed water from his lungs and looked up to see Andréa struggling to hold the river at bay, wincing and muttering, clutching her staff tightly as the wall of water threatened to give way.

He moved to clear the area, and his heart sank as he saw Fíli was laying limp and unconscious just at the foot of the water wall.

He hooked his arms under his brother’s armpits and dragged him to the shore as quickly as he could manage.

The moment they were clear, Andréa dropped the spell and fell to her knees, panting.

“Fíli!”

Kíli shook his brother’s wet body, then leaned down to listen to his nose and mouth.

No breath.

“Fíli!”

Terror rose in his stomach and he grabbed Fíli’s arm, feeling for a pulse.

Andréa crawled over and placed her hand over Fíli’s nose, then pressed her mouth to his lips and breathed into his mouth several times as forcefully as she could manage.

Kíli stared in confusion and started muttering prayers to Mahal in Khuzdul.

Andréa started trying to pump Fíli’s chest, but as she struggled to press her hands into it, it didn’t give way.

Her attempts grew more frantic and she pounded her fists against the limp dwarf’s chest in frustration, tears in her eyes.

“I’m not strong enough!” she lamented.

She’d seen this done on big folk, but there was no way she could hit his chest hard enough.

Following her lead in a blind panic, Kíli balled his fists and gave a hard thump onto Fíli’s chest with both.

To Andréa and Kíli’s surprise, Fíli’s chest jolted at the beating and he suddenly opened his eyes, sputtering and coughing up water from his lungs.

Kíli pulled his brother onto his side to help him expel the water, and wrapped his arms around Fíli’s head and shoulders.

Andréa placed her arms on the ground and pressed her forehead into them. “Thank Mahal,” she murmured.

Kíli and Fíli shared a tight embrace, each relieved at the other’s safety.

It didn’t take much for Fíli to piece together that after he’d lost consciousness in the water, Kíli and Andréa had somehow saved him.

“Kíli,” he sighed in relief.

“Fee! Fee, I thought I’d lost you!”

“You almost did!” Thorin roared, hopping off his pony as he finally reached them. “You rash fools will lose your lives on the road, and not by orcs!”

Andréa looked up to see their leader marching over with a furious expression.

She straightened up, hoping he would not punish the brothers, who had clearly been through enough already.

Fíli sat up properly, looking up at his uncle with defiance. “I could not simply watch my brother be washed away.”

“And if not for blind luck, he would have watched you drown instead!”

“You did nothing to help-”

Kíli put his hand on Fíli’s chest, flashing him an urgent look to not argue with Thorin. “It’s my fault. It was my pony that fell in.”

Thorin’s nostrils flared as he looked down at them.

Andréa noticed the tremble in his hand; not of anger, but fear.

Thorin’s gaze turned on her, and she shrank somewhat at the glower.

“Thank you for saving my reckless nephews,” he huffed, then turned to remount his horse.

“It was actually Kíli that-”

“Get back in formation!” He rode off back toward the rest of the company without a look back at them.

Kíli helped Fíli to his feet, and then Andréa.

Fíli was clearly frustrated by the rebuke he’d just received, and he let out an irritated sigh.

“Are you injured?” Andréa asked, stepping in front of them before they could walk back to the group.

“Only my pride,” Fíli assured her.

“Dwarves are hardy,” Kíli agreed.

“Thorin is a goat turd.” Fíli’s insult was spoken in Khuzdul, and Kíli laughed, while Andréa frowned.

“Do you speak ill of your uncle?” she asked. “When he was so fearful to lose you that he hid it behind rage?”

“Fearful? Thorin is not fearful,” Kíli scoffed.

“He was,” Andréa insisted. “And you are a fool not to see it.”

“Twice I am called a fool.” Kíli sighed. He turned to his older brother, a playful grin on his face. “Fíli, am I a fool?”

Fíli reached up to ruffle Kíli’s wet hair. “Of course, and I as well.” He laughed.

Andréa planted her staff again and they closed their eyes as her magic sent warmth through their clothes and bodies.

The brothers blinked and marveled at their dry clothing.

“Ah, thank you,” Fíli said, then motioned to her bandaged hand, smirking. “How’s your injury?”

She pursed her lips in frustration, looking up at him with wet eyes. “You almost died, Fíli.”

Fíli made a dismissive head gesture and put his hands on Kíli and Andréa’s shoulders. “But you two took care of me.”

Kíli moved closer to hug Fíli, and pulled Andréa in as well. She hugged them both back and took a long, deep breath to keep from crying.

The brothers felt Andréa tremble as she squeezed them tighter. “You scared me.”

“We protect each other,” Kíli reassured her.

“Yes. Even if it means carrying stubborn wizards back to camp,” Fíli agreed.

She laughed silently through her nose and pulled back, shaking her head at both of them. “Be more careful, please.”

Kíli watched her hand reach up to grip at her necklace through her shirt.

“We will,” he promised, as Fíli patted her head.

---

The rest of the day’s ride was uneventful, but tense. Thorin remained in a foul mood that put a dark cloud over the company as they made their way.

When they finally stopped to make camp for the day, Thorin started barking orders. Bombur and Bofur were tasked with starting their meal preparations while Gloin and Dwalin were told to fill the waterskins.

“Fíli, Kíli- Collect firewood, if you think you can manage it.”

The brothers bristled at the harsh words, but set out, and Andréa was grateful that Thorin said nothing when she made to follow them.

Out in the woods, Fíli gave a frustrated huff. “Cheery day,” he quipped sarcastically.

Andréa nodded. “It’s wearing thin, I agree.”

“Let him sleep it off, he’ll be better in the morning,” Kíli offered.

“Oh? Is this common with Thorin?”

Fíli laughed. “Well, Kíli does have a way of causing mischief.”

“I cause mischief? I think you’ll find you’ve been behind what led to most of our scoldings, Fee.”

“Not by a mile!” Fíli whipped a small twig at Kíli’s leg before continuing to gather wood.

Kíli let out a small laugh and soon the three of them were in brighter spirits, the brothers taking turns regaling Andréa with stories of childhood misadventures that had landed them in hot water with their uncle and mother alike.

They walked back into camp chuckling under their breaths.

“What are you lot laughing about?” Thorin spat as they dropped their cargo by the circle of stones Nori had arranged.

“Nothing, uncle” Kíli muttered, the laughter dying from his voice.

“Good! Perhaps if you took the quest more seriously, we would not have such need for a wizard to watch over you!”

Fíli scowled. “The bridge could have broken under anyone-”

“What disgraceful heirs to the line of Durin we have become!” Thorin thundered in Khuzdul.

While the rest of the Company remained silent at Thorin’s outburst, Fíli’s anger boiled over. He’d had enough of his uncle’s criticism now. What had happened was not Kíli’s fault, and the whole company had suffered from Thorin’s foul mood all day.

Fíli stepped forward, nostrils flaring.

“The only disgrace is your tantrum!”

Thorin turned to Fíli with a dark expression.

Kíli shrank into the group of dwarves behind him, watching with wide eyes. It was rare that Fíli outright challenged Thorin to his face, and he worried what fresh vitriol it might unleash.

Meanwhile Bilbo stepped closer, confused by the change of tongue, and worried about the staredown between their leader and his nephew. He stopped at Andrea’s side, touching her arm softly for some form of comfort.

She placed her hand over Bilbo’s reassuringly, but continued to watch the argument, unsure what would come of it next.

Thorin took two steps and stared Fíli down. “It is high time you learned to put the well-being of the company over your own interests. Just because your brother tumbles into death’s path does not mean you chase after him.”

“What would you have me do?” Fíli glared up at him, unflinching and incredulous.

Surely Thorin understood that Fíli would gladly die trying to save Kíli? Was that really something Thorin believed was worthy of criticism?

“Kíli must learn prudence instead of relying on you to protect him.”

“I would have done the same for any in our company.”

“Then you are a bigger fool than I knew. You had no chance of helping him! Jumping into the river as you did was foolish!”

“I could not simply abandon my brother; unlike you!”

Fíli regretted the hurtful words the moment they left his mouth, recalling too late his uncle Frerin’s young demise.

Thorin’s rage only grew in offense. “You know nothing of loss and sacrifice! You would have only accomplished two graves in the place of one!”

He looked around the rest of the group, his eyes shining. “Do you think this quest a joke? If we fall to the road how will we face a dragon? Perhaps Durin’s Folk are truly unworthy of the Mountain, and should abandon the quest enti-!”

Andréa interrupted him, shouting something back in Sindarin in a harsh tone that echoed too loudly and powerfully for her small stature.

She’d had enough of Thorin’s blowup, despite knowing it was sparked by the fear of losing his nephews. The others may have been too loyal to argue outright, but she - like Fíli - could no longer stand the display of anger. Surely the brothers, in particular, had been through enough having nearly drowned.

Thorin turned to her with a dark expression. “I do not speak that tongue-”

She raised her chin slightly, body language defiant and unintimidated, her voice now low and calm. “And yet you shout in Khuzdul when not all present are dwarves. If you wish to admonish us, please do so in Westron so all may understand it.”

Thorin looked between Andréa and Bilbo, thinking back on what he’d just said. “Nevermind.”

“Then you take back what you were saying?”

“No, but I don’t care to repeat myself.”

She huffed and grabbed Bilbo’s hand. “Come, Mr. Baggins. It seems our leader does not think us worthy of his words.”

Thorin narrowed his eyes as she started leading the hobbit away. “That’s not-”

Bilbo followed Andréa, but glanced back at Thorin, unsure.

Thorin - for reasons he had no time to examine - felt a flare of anxiety at the thought of Bilbo leaving the Company.

“Stop!” Thorin’s voice held a kinder tone despite the authority in it. “I take back what I said in our tongue.”

Andréa stopped and turned to Thorin with a raised brow. “So you’re not cross with the company, then?”

He pursed his lips. She was frustrating him with how she was phrasing things, challenging him.

“Because you sounded cross. And if I’ve done something to offend you, I’d care to know it.”

“As would I,” Bilbo added, nodding.

Thorin huffed and considered how to reply, feeling a bit foolish for being called out.

“Are you cross with the company, Thorin?” Andréa asked again, softly this time.

“No.”

Thorin stalked off away from camp, not elaborating.

The rest of the company stood in awkward silence for a beat.

“Aye, well, glad that’s settled then,” Bofur offered loudly, letting out a relieved laugh to force levity back into the group.

“Right, let’s get our meal served,” Dori suggested, looking to Bombur.

Everyone started busying themselves with the making of camp comforts and overly-friendly conversation, seeming to agree to pretend that the whole thing hadn’t happened.

Andréa placed a hand on Fíli’s shoulder, wide eyes silently asking if he was alright.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, clearly still irritated, though not with her. “I’m not a pebble.”

Kíli walked over just as she shook her head.

“No, I know. I really admire you.”

Kíli tried to swallow down his internal shame at having cowered to Thorin’s rage, and having - in his mind - caused all the trouble that day to start with, however accidentally.

Meanwhile Bilbo backed away from the chattering crowd to slink off after Thorin.

---

Thorin stood at the edge of a clearing, staring up into the night sky at Durin’s Crown twinkling above.

He was mulling over the argument with Fíli, guilt over Frerin’s death and the fear of losing his nephews making his stomach turn.

I promised Dis I’d keep them safe.

He noticed movement in his peripheral vision, and gripped his sword as he turned toward it, only to see Bilbo looking up into the same night sky, hands folded behind his back.

“It’s a lovely night,” the hobbit murmured.

Thorin’s shoulders eased as he let out a long sigh. “Is it?”

“It could be. If you decide it is.”

Thorin grunted and looked away. “I’m not sure my decisions should be trusted at the moment.”

“Because of your outburst?”

Thorin continued to avoid eye contact, but the deep, huffing breath he took betrayed his frustrations.

“I think we all understand. Well- not literally, since I’m not sure what you said to each other, but-”

“I should not have spoken that way. Admonishing him for my own shortcomings.”

Thorin turned to Bilbo with a softer expression than he’d seen to that point. “If something had happened to them…”

Bilbo nodded, reaching out to grip Thorin’s forearm reassuringly. “I know. We all know. Even Fíli and Kíli.”

“Do they?” “They really look up to you, you know? I think that’s why- Well, I shouldn’t speak for him, but- perhaps Fíli thought that you’d have done the same to protect someone in the company?”

Thorin let out a laugh under his breath. “I probably would have, yes.”

“I think that’s the sort of thing that makes for a great leader.”

Thorin sighed, sobering again. “You can’t lead anyone if you’re dead. Even if we can get to Erebor, we still have to take it back. We don’t have the luxury of being careless.”

“I- I don’t think they were, Thor-” “Not them.”

Thorin huffed and started walking back toward the camp.

Bilbo chased after him, his frown turning to bewilderment. “You can’t be saying you blame yourself?”

“Whatever happens, whoever falls, the blame goes to the leader.”

“But- there was nothing more you could have done. We all crossed that bridge-”

“I don’t expect you to understand.”

Bilbo watched Thorin’s tired face as they walked back, noting that Thorin wouldn’t make eye contact with him again.

---

Meanwhile, the others were settling into their spots for the night with their suppers.

Andréa couldn’t bear the idea of being away from Fíli or Kíli after the day’s events, so she’d planted herself between them without question.

Fíli had been telling her some story about the Blue Mountains, but she couldn’t quite relax, the accident and the fighting doing nothing for her nerves.

Kíli watched as Andréa politely emoted in response to the end of Fíli’s tale, noting that she didn’t continue the conversation as she ate.

He nudged her arm.

“So, what did you shout at him, anyway?”

“Mm?” “When you shouted at Thorin in that other tongue.”

Andréa shifted, feeling a bit guilty. “A request to stop, more or less.”

In truth, it had been something along the lines of ‘Curse the stubbornness of dwarves’, but to say so now felt rude. She’d chosen Sindarin to make her point about him shouting in Khuzdul, but given Thorin and his nephews’ aversion to elves, it might have been an even worse thing to say in that tongue.

We can all be reckless at times.

Fíli smirked. “A very polite request, clearly.”

Andrea let out a short laugh, playing along. “Oh, of course.”

Fíli put his hand on the top of her head. “You don’t need to get involved in family disputes. I can handle Thorin.”

She looked up at him with raised brows. “You weren’t the only one dealing with it. You were just the first to say something.”

Kíli glanced around. “Well, it seems everyone’s moved on now.”

“That’s for the best.” Andréa’s fingers found her pendant absent-mindedly. “At the end of the day, the most important thing is that we’re all alive. And together.”

Kíli’s spotted Thorin coming back into camp, and gestured subtly with his head. “On that note-”

The dwarves made no fanfare when Thorin returned to camp, and he took his place near his things, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ to Bofur when he brought him a serving of their supper.

Bilbo brought his pack over to where Fíli, Kíli and Andréa were seated. “Room for another?”

“Always,” Andréa enthused, forcing a warm smile for their burglar.

---

Thorin was quiet until it was time to plan the night watches, taking the first.

He looked over the group, the usual clusters - Ori, Dori and Nori; Bofur, Bombur and Bifur; etc. - not catching his interest until his eyes settled on Bilbo.

The hobbit was nearest to Thorin in the little row of bedrolls, followed by Andréa, Kíli and Fíli. Thorin watched the subtle rise and fall of Bilbo’s chest under the covers, seemingly at ease despite the unsettling events of the day.

Thorin snorted to himself, shaking his head. Are you so comfortable on the road now?

He heard a small sound on the other end of the camp and whipped his head in that direction only to see Bofur shoving himself further away from Bombur, who had rolled over in his sleep. For his part, Bofur didn’t seem put out by it, snoring only a moment later.

Thorin glanced back over to the burglar, noting who he’d chosen to sleep beside. Bilbo was younger than even his nephews, after all.

Perhaps he has more in common with them. Naive to the horrors of the world. No place on a battlefield.

This thought sat uneasily in his gut.

Why should it bother him who the hobbit had more in common with? Why should the idea of Bilbo in danger wake the same protective instincts he felt when his nephews were reckless?

What was Bilbo to him, anyway?

An annoyance. An interloper. Someone he’d only begrudgingly agreed to hire for this journey, unsure he would make it home.

But if all of that was true, then why did Thorin feel slighted that Bilbo had avoided him since they’d come back to camp? Why had it bothered him to see the hobbit’s hands tying clumsy plaits into the wizard’s hair instead of his own?

Why did his optimistic words keep repeating in his mind?

It’s a lovely night.It could be. If you decide it is.

Thorin sighed and looked up to the sky, though the stars revealed no patterns to his weary eyes.

---

A/N: Not the thing I thought would be my first fic post of Deano Bingo 2024, but this is what is ready to post, lol. This story is far from abandoned, as the 100k+ of not-yet-posted written bits can attest. I am trying to get back into completing/posting it. :)

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#the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #kili x oc #bagginshield

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