catthefearless - Tumblr blog

catthefearless · 8 months

Text

Under Your Spell

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, insecurity, a little angst (with a happy ending)

Word count: 1571

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You put a spell on Thorin to make him fall in love with you, but as the spell wears off, you find out that he has always loved you." Requested by @asgardianhobbit98

Written while listening to Journey's Greatest Hits.

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thank you to everyone who supported me during my posting hiatus. I felt like it was needed to get back into a better mindset after I become incredibly overwhelmed by another one of my fics' reception.

The last twenty four hours had been beyond perfect. The spell which you had been keeping for the last few months, ready for the chance to use, had worked better than you could have imagined. Thorin had declared undying love to you as the sun set; the two of you having just shared dinner together with a large group. Then once on your own together, he had been so open in his affection toward you, blushing and smiling as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“I love you more than anything,” he had told you, confident and bold. He had taken your hand, kissed it, then asked for you to join him on the royal balcony.

The two of you had sipped wine, while Thorin gazed at you over the top of the glass, unable to tear his gaze from you.

You shared tender kisses, hand holding, and Thorin had held you as you fell asleep. Then you woke in his arms, warm and content. He had been watching you, and as you woke from your slumber, he smiled at you and kissed your head.

All of that day and you had remained in Thorin’s presence, sharing meals, conversations, kisses.

“Would you join me again tonight on the balcony? It is forecast that we should have a clear night sky.”

“Of course,” you had replied. Only now, sadness began to seep from your words, unable to hide any further. The realisation that all of this would be over at sundown was growing heavy in your heart and gut. The spell would only last for one twenty four hour period, and could only ever be used on one person once in their life. After sundown, and Thorin would return to his former self, purely a friend to you and your King, nothing more than that.

It was almost sundown, and you excused yourself from Thorin’s chambers, telling him that you wished to quickly write a letter to a friend. He just smiled at you, his eyes so full of adoration, as you disappeared out of the door.

As you walked the corridors back to your bed chamber, you felt tears fall down your cheeks. The pain was so heavy and hot in your chest. Just to have Thorin adore you for twenty four hours had been perfect beyond any kind of comprehension. However, the fall back to reality was going to be excruciating. In time, another woman would have Thorin fall for them, and this time it would be of his own choice.

You lit your candles and sat down on the edge of your bed, staring at the vase of roses that Thorin had had brought to your chamber. They could now be disposed of as they would just serve as a reminder of your pathetic need to have Thorin love you.

All sense of time slipped away from you as you fell asleep on your bed, still fully dressed. Once you had lay out on your bed, you had not moved. Tears had flowed, pulling you into your subconscious world where you could be happy temporarily.

Dreams came and went, flickering pictures of far off lands that you had explored with the Company, months earlier, where you had fallen for their leader. Flashes of sunlight bouncing off swords and the calls of armies became a jumble in your mind.

Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting. The candles had gone out hours ago. There was a dull thump behind your eyes and you winced, blinking hard.

For a second, you felt as if you were still in a dream somewhere. You could feel something resting on your waist, curled around. Blinking again, you looked down and could make out a hand. On the middle finger was a ring.

You gasped and shifted away suddenly, almost dropping out of bed. “What?” you choked.

Thorin was lying on your bed, and was now rousing. His eyes opened slowly and he smiled at the sight of you. “Come back to bed, my love,” he said sleepily. “It’s still early.”

“But…how?”

He just smiled again and sat up. “You think a spell could make me love you?”

“How did you know about it?”

“I’ve known about it quite some time now,” he replied. “I will not name any names, but I was made aware that you acquired the spell from someone in Lake-town, did you not?”

Shame hit you hard and you lowered your head, feeling the tears fall once again. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “And now you are playing along to mock me; the spell wore off at night fall yesterday.”

Thorin got up from the bed and followed the edge of it towards you. “Why would you think I’d ever mock you?” He stood before you, his head to once side in question and disbelief that you could ever think such a thing.

“I was stupid to ever think you could love me,” you hissed.

Anger flared in Thorin’s eyes and on impulse he grabbed your hip and threw you both into a kiss. It was hot, demanding, needing. So much unlike the day earlier. All you could do in your weakness was cling to him, your backside resting against your dresser. He was pressing into you harder now, his tongue desperate in your mouth.

Thorin drew back from you, his blue eyes ablaze. They were no longer soft like the day before, but they were on fire. That had always been the true Thorin, and as you had known him for the last six months: passionate, on fire. He pressed his forehead to you and then kissed it.

You closed your eyes as you felt his hand become buried in your hair. His other hand was still on your hip. There was a desperation in his actions. The day earlier and he had wanted to be in your company, to look upon you. Now, he needed to touch you.

The two of you kissed again, hard and needing. You could feel your inhibitions let go, and your hands became tangled up in his hair, your breath lost, your heart pounding.

He whispered your name, needing you.

Within minutes and the two of you were back on your bed, disrobed and exploring each other. Thorin’s lips caressed every inch of you, and when he was kissing down the inside of your thigh, he looked up at you. “Why did you ever think you needed a spell to capture my heart? It was always yours.”

The two of you joined, exhaling in relief at the pent up frustration. Thorin was over you, his one hand gripping yours. To feel him connected with you, feel him inside you, giving himself over to you by choice, that was the true magic.

Your bodies were synchronised, moving together in rhythm so well.

Each and every time Thorin’s gaze connected with yours, and you could see the love for you there. It burned. The spell you had cast had diluted his true love, and his gaze the day earlier had been as if he weren’t quite in the room with you. Now he was present for every second.

Every thrust was now making you build upward towards climax. The sensations feeling as if waves were cascading down your body, until the last one took hold. It came from the base of your stomach, and shattered outward. You shook, and as you rode out that one spectacular wave, Thorin kept his gaze locked on you.

The sensation of you gripping Thorin’s girth in your plateau pushed him over the edge, and he spilled. He dug his head against your neck, groaning at the wondrous pleasure that washed over him.

Both of you fell down beside each other, panting and sweating. Thorin reached for you, and you rolled over to him, and put your head on his chest. “Is that what true love feels like?” you gasped.

“No spell could ever replicate that,” Thorin said softly. “When you first placed the spell on me, it was as if I couldn’t control my words, and no longer could I keep my feelings for you secret. But the expression of my love for you, it…I cannot describe it. It was as if it was dulled, and when dusk came, the spell having ended, my heart and my body burned for you again, like it always had. The spell stopped me feeling that love in a true sense.”

“Why did you never tell me how you felt?” you asked, propping yourself up on your arm.

“I was terrified of rejection. The spell at least took away my cowardice.”

“You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known, and yet you couldn’t tell me you loved me?” you asked, not quite able to believe such a revelation. “You lead a kingdom, and armies, yet you couldn’t tell me three simple words.”

Thorin sighed. “You did not tell me either.”

“I had reason not to,” you scoffed. “You’re a king. Declaring your love to a king and expecting them to love you in return is just ridiculous.”

You saw that anger flare in Thorin’s eyes again, and his jaw clenched. “I am a king in name and by my birth right. But I am no different to you in heart. There is only one that I bow to, and that is my wife and Queen. And those positions will only ever be filled by one person…you.”

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @middleearthpixie @linasofia @xxbyimm @luna-xial @knittastically @meganlpie @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @rachel1959 @mrsdurin @quiall321 @missihart23 @lemond57 @evenstaredits @catthefearless @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @glassgulls @sazzlep @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @bookworm-with-coffee @danzalladaggers @ourlonelymountain @phantomessangel @estethell @windb3ll

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @emmyspov @dumbassunderthemountain @braidedheart

Middle-earth tag list: @mismaeve @sotwk @valkyrie-of-the-light @deadlymistletoe

Special tag for this fic: @kurlyfrasier @littlesweetdressmaker

608 notes · View notes

catthefearless · 1 year

Photo

203K notes · View notes

catthefearless · 1 year

Photo

Bambi (1942) dir. Clyde Geronimi, David Hand and Samuel Armstrong

3K notes · View notes

catthefearless · 1 year

Photo

10K notes · View notes

catthefearless · 1 year

Text

The kind of love women really want!

I've Loved You Forever.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: North & South (modern AU)

Pairings: Modern John Thornton x Fem!Reader/Fem!Reader x OC

Warnings: Language, angst, pining.

Summary: It is the Christmas party for John Thornton and his workers from Marlborough Mills. You have all been allowed to take partners, and that means your boyfriend of eighteen months is there. When he is asked if he loves you and can't answer, John Thornton's rage comes out full throttle, especially as he's been in love with you for quite some time.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. I’m gradually removing people from my tag lists who do not interact.

I tend to use Lucas North pictures as my modern Thornton images. This idea actually came to me randomly a few days ago when I was reading on the train.

Thank you to @knittastically and @lathalea for helping me who to choose the character for this idea. I may open this scenario up to other RA characters if people are interested and would like to request.

It was your work Christmas party, and your manager John Thornton had been kind enough to let everyone bring their partners along. However, you noticed that he still remained at the head of the table alone. There was no one at his side like the majority of everyone else around the table. Due to the size of your whole party, it was spilling over on to a second table. A couple of the machinery operators from Marlborough Mills, where you all worked, were sat with their wives, off to the side of the main table. Your boyfriend of eighteen months, Stuart, was beside you. As usual, he seemed to naturally turn all heads towards him. He was joking about someone he worked with, an unfortunate soul whom he disliked, and enjoyed tormenting.

John looked at Stuart and silently scoffed. The man was a prick! Self-absorbed, entitled, opinionated, sarcastic. How the hell had you even got with a man like this? You were everything that Stuart wasn’t.

The conversation, you noticed, seemed to steer to a more personal topic. Kelly, one of the wives of a colleague, grinned at Stuart across the table. “So do you love her? Are you planning to put a ring on her finger?” How had the conversation turned to this? Where had your thoughts been up until this moment?

Stuart began to blanch and tried to divert the topic. Never once though did he look at you.

“Become a bit speechless there, Stu?” John hissed, resting his arms on the table.

Kelly recoiled back, knowing that she had inadvertently caused a potential argument for later.

“Aren’t you going to answer Kelly’s question?” John growled again. “Or is that an answer you’ve got to think long and hard about?”

“John,” you said softly, looking up sheepishly at your boss. “It’s okay.”

Stuart got up from his seat quickly. “Anybody for another drink?”

John’s livid stare followed Stuart to the bar, and everyone else around the table had noticed. Why had John become so defensive?

In your embarrassment and hurt, you got up, excusing yourself from the table and slipped around the full tables and out into the chill of the evening air. A heat had rose in your head and prickles of pain rested behind your eyes, threatening tears. But you pushed them back, putting your self-control in place. Stuart had embarrassed you enough in public over the last eighteen months you’d been together, but never on such a scale as this.

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice came.

You looked up to see John Thornton a few feet away from you. “It’s fine, John.”

“It’s not fine,” John exclaimed. “How long have you two been together?”

“Eighteen months.”

“And in that time he hasn’t figured out if he loves you? Fucking hell…” John seethed. “You’re going to just let him get away with doing that in front of you. You deserve so much better than that.”

You sighed, chewing on your lip. “Plenty of people tell you you deserve something but you can’t see that inside yourself. And a lot of people will tell you that you deserve something but be completely unable to give that to you themselves. They’re fobbing it off for someone else to pick up.”

John felt that all-consuming love for you rise. How had he kept it inside for all this time? You had been his right hand for the last two years, being the assistant manager, secretary and everything in between that John couldn’t always manage to take care of. When you had announced the fact you had a boyfriend, the pain cut John deep. It felt as though it would be a pain he would carry forever. And over that time you had been with Stuart, the pain had never dulled, he had only learned to live with it.

“I’m not fobbing you off,” John said softly. “I’m telling you that you need a man who will love you, put you first, adore you. A man who will make you breakfast in the morning, constantly tell you how beautiful you are, give you gifts just because he wants to. Someone who can make you smile.”

The intensity of John’s words and his gaze made your heart beat quicker. Butterflies began flapping viciously in your stomach. It was that same feeling you had had every day since meeting him. John Thornton was a gentleman; he was everything that Stuart wasn’t. He was the man you wanted to be doing all those things he’d only just moments ago spoken of. But surely he would never be prepared to do that for you.

“I know you only mean well, John,” you said, turning to walk back into the pub.

John caught your hand. His gaze was burning into yours, and you couldn’t help but sigh. You whispered his name, tightening your grip on his hand. You were inches apart, and despite the cold around you, you felt hot. Anticipation raced up your spine, and you felt your cheeks burn.

“He can’t tell you he loves you,” John began. “But I can.”

You took a painful inhale, waiting for him to speak again.

John smiled. “I love you. It feels like I’ve loved you forever, and I won’t stop.”

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @middleearthpixie @knittastically @xxbyimm @meganlpie @luna-xial @guardianofrivendell @eunoiaastralwings @msjava1972 @rachel1959 @asgardianhobbit98 @missihart23 @lemond57 @quiall321 @sazzlep @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @catthefearless @mrsdurin @evenstaredits @glassgulls @solairewisteria @aliasauthor @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

126 notes · View notes

catthefearless · 1 year

Text

Anything Is Possible (7)

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC TV series)

Pairing: Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, brief smut, violence, mild sexual assault references, graphic depictions of being burned alive, character death.

Summary: From the imagine, “Imagine you and Guy are in love but you are to be married to someone else. It feels like everything is keeping you apart."

Comments: If you would like to be added to or removed from my tag list, please let me know. Lord Edmund is based off Arnold Vosloo (from The Mummy)

This is the final part! :) Enjoy.

It felt as if the whole room went quiet around you; your intense fear and dread blocked everything out. Everything was running in slow motion and ice raced down your spine. This was it! Life as you knew it was over. Your whole existence would be under Lord Edmund's control. Nothing would be simple anymore, and of course you'd be pulled away from Guy and your family. There was no way that Edmund would be considerate enough to let you visit your family.

The priest cleared his throat and you looked up at Edmund. The man made you nauseous and your blood ran cold at the very sight of him. The thought of him touching you made your skin crawl.

In the second row, Guy stared at what was happening before him. He felt powerless, unable to move. Mary had slipped into the pew behind your mother, he noticed. What had gone wrong?

The priest began to speak but your whole body shaking made it impossible for you to even hear any of the words. Both your names were spoken, and then Edmund presented a ring. It was as if you were in water, drifting in your own mind, only able to see the world from the outside but not control anything.

"Do you take this man to be your husband?" the priest asked.

You didn't answer.

He asked again. And this time Edmund's eyes grew black in anger and his lips scrunched together in frustration.

Guy knew he had to do something, but just as he was about to move, the adrenaline starting to pour through him, someone raced out from the front pew towards Edmund. A shout hit the air and Edmund gasped loudly, falling to the floor with a dull thump. Guy shoved through the small, gathering crowd to get to the front, only to see your father stabbing Edmund multiple times, forcing the blade in the dead man's body over and over. Your father called out like an animal, howling into the air.

Guards grabbed your father and dragged him off Edmund's bloody body, pulling his hands behind his back.

Your mother raced to you, holding you tight. Your body was still shaking inside her grip, and you began to sob uncontrollably against her. A floodgate opened, and all the emotions poured outward. You held your mother so tight, terrified of losing her.

Around the room and a small commotion had broken out. Three women had passed out and a group of men were hovering over Edmund's body, trying to conceal it from the view of the wedding guests. Two lords from neighbouring towns had raced to the side of the room and vomited.

By now and Guy was able to move. His fight or flight response had enabled him to run to you.

Your mother let you go, letting hold you. He kissed your head, telling you everything would be alright.

The Sheriff was still stood in the same position, gobsmacked and speechless at the whole affair that had unfolded. His eyes fell upon the guards who were holding your father, who hadn't put up much of a fight. He was well aware of his fate now. "Take him to the dungeon," Vaisey said finally.

***

Back at your home, and you sat in the kitchen area with your mother and Guy. Images of Edmund's face as your father's knife plunged into his back would not leave you. You could still hear Edmund's gasps as the breath left him. You could see the blood seeping across the stone floor.

Guy held your hand across the table, noticing that your eyes had not moved from the floor. "My love?" he whispered.

You looked up, tears welling in your eyes. Gradually the tears dripped down your cheeks. "What happened?" you asked stupidly. "I just...."

Your mother sighed and sat down opposite you. "Your father did what he needed to do," she said, giving you a smile. "He's not the coward I once thought he was."

"And now he faces the noose because of me," you said quietly.

Guy smirked at you and tilted his head to the side. "You forget the influence that I have in the castle. We know that a couple of the guards are on our side; we can easily make it look like an escape."

"But father won't be able to come back home. You'd have to leave Nottingham." You looked towards your mother, startled. Then you grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Please..."

"You have Guy now to look after you. And once your father and I have found somewhere to call home, we will send word to you and your sisters. Do not fear." Her dark eyes held so much love for you in those moments. "You'll always be my angel."

***

Six weeks later and you had taken over your parents' old home. Your mother had 'disappeared' suddenly and your father had apparently 'escaped' from the jail on the night of his imprisonment. Neither of them had been heard from or seen since.

You woke early one morning, your husband sleeping beside you. Your eyes scanned the room and then fell upon the window. You smiled, thinking on all those times that your now-husband's face had appeared there. Considering that Guy had always been known by the townsfolk as The Man In Black, he was the light in your life. He was your source of strength and peace.

Slipping from the bed, you walked out of your room, being careful not to wake Guy and began to start a fire for the kettle to boil. The sun was rising now, with golden light pouring through the window.

Something light-coloured caught your eye and you looked down to see an envelope pushed under your door. You leaned down and picked it up, seeing the names Sir and Lady Gisborne written on the front in beautiful, black writing. There was only one person who had written this letter. The woman whose handwriting you had always admired. The woman who had bore you, raised you, and helped save you.

A shuffling came from behind you and then you felt arms lock around your waist, drawing you back. "Good morning, my wife," he whispered sleepily, smiling as he smelt your hair. He said those words every morning, still feeling pangs of excitement as they slipped off his tongue.

"A letter for Sir and Lady Gisborne," you giggled. "Just a shame that they aren't aware of the little one, but they will be soon."

Guy's hand caressed your stomach and he sighed against you.

The nausea had begun two days after your intended and interrupted wedding to Lord Edmund. And now you had stopped your monthly bleeding, which could only mean one thing.

If there was thing you had learned, it was that even in your darkest moments, anything is possible.

-Fin-

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @middleearthpixie @linasofia @xxbyimm @knittastically @meganlpie @luna-xial @guardianofrivendell @eunoiaastralwings @asgardianhobbit98 @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @lemond57 @quiall321 @sazzlep @missihart23 @mrsdurin @evenstaredits @catthefearless @glassgulls @solairewisteria @aliasauthor @heilith @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @court-jobi @littlebird-99 @absentmindeduniverse

Guy of Gisborne tag list: @puggledy-huggledy-is-not-a-pig @whoooooisthis @emmyspov

Anything Is Possible tag list: @purplerain85

138 notes · View notes

catthefearless · 1 year

Text

Hey.

Hey you.

Yes, you.

Come here fellow fanfic writer.

Closer.

Okay, perfect. Ready?

There are not 'better writers' out there. There are only different writers. No one can write your story better than you. No one.

So, write your fic. It's going to be awesome.

2K notes · View notes

catthefearless · 1 year

Text

One More White Hair.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader (human)

Warnings: ANGST! Insecurity, mutual pining, fluff.

Summary: From the imagine, "Imagine that Thorin is in love with you but won't let on as he believes he's an old man and is no good for you'.

Comments: Requested by two anons and @lemond57 Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll regarding when this fic should be set. The majority asked for post Quest. We also get a bit of match-maker Dis. So, enjoy!

As always, if you like the story, please consider a reblog. It really does help. If you would like to be added to any of my story tag lists, or my Follow Forever tag list (where you’re tagged in everything) then please let me know.

Thorin sighed as he stood in front of his full length dress mirror. He was sure that another grey hair had appeared overnight. It shone silver as it wove through his braid. Each hair was a reminder of all those years that he was ahead of you. But nothing could stop his heart wanting you as much as it did. By human years you were in your prime of life, at your peak. Thorin felt as though he was now deflated, crumbling away as he approached his second century. Surely if he had met you all those years ago when he was young, and his hair was black and his skin free of blemish, you would have fallen for him. The scars which littered his body acted as a map of all the wars he had participated in. Each blemish was a sign of his experience. Your skin was still unmarked, unbroken. So much innocence.

That evening would be your weekly dinner with Thorin, the rest of his court advisers and Dis. Since being part of the King's Company only a few months prior, Thorin had made sure you now had a home, security and position. You remembered your first day at council, all eyes were on you. No one of the race of Men had ever taken a seat on Dwarf council. However, as time passed, you had gradually found your place. Dwalin and Balin had welcomed you immediately, having been two of your traveling companions.

In your bedchamber and you began pushing through the clothing which hung in your wardrobe. Dresses, tunics, shawls, cloaks, robes. One dress sat at the end of the line of clothing: it was the dress that Thorin had gifted you upon moving into your bedchamber. It was deep, midnight blue. Dresses always made you feel insecure, as if unwanted attention would be drawn to you and mockery would be shown. And this one had been no exception, until now. You picked it up and draped it over your arm. Something hit you, a revelation... it was the same colour that Thorin always wore. Had this been a simple coincidence? Probably. You highly doubted that Thorin would have thought that deeply into such a thing as this.

With a sigh, you shifted away and began to dress for the occasion.

Thorin was first in the hall, sitting at the head of the table. And gradually everyone began to appear, filling up the seats around the long table. Wine and ale was on hand, plenty to keep everyone merry.

You sat at the far end of the table, next to Balin. First off, you placed a napkin into your lap, preparing for the meal. Then you looked up and noticed Thorin glancing at his own reflection in a goblet. Why did he do this so often? Was he becoming vain?

Thorin sighed and looked over toward you, noticing that you had your gaze in your lap. But his heart hammered in anxiety and delight at the sight of you wearing the dress. It looked just as he had imagined; it was a snug fit and showed off your curves beautifully.

Balin smirked to himself as he noticed Thorin watching you. It had become known within the main circle of advisers that Thorin had his eye on you. However, you remained oblivious to the fact.

The evening went as it normally did: eating, drinking and plenty of chatter.

You noticed that Dis kept whispering to Thorin, nudging him. But his face would then contort and grow angry, until finally he hissed something at her and she crossed her arms in frustration. "I think you take the stubbornness of Dwarves to a whole new level!" Dis exclaimed.

"Enough!" Thorin bellowed.

Everyone stared for a second at the King and his sister, then shifted their nervous gazes elsewhere.

"Umm, we'll begin taking our plates to the kitchens," you proposed, feeling awkward. The rest of the table, apart from Thorin and Dis, muttered in agreement and grabbed their plates and cutlery, hurrying to the kitchen, which was just out of the hall.

Thorin and Dis remained sat down, almost side by side.

"Thorin, I'm being serious, you need to tell her," Dis said, her voice soft but firm. "You've given everything for this kingdom, for our people. You deserve some happiness. I see the way you look at each other."

"Dis!" Thorin warned.

"You think the fact you're older than her makes a difference. It doesn't."

"Look at me!" Thorin exclaimed. "I'm an old man. What kind of woman would want..."

"She would," Dis replied. "Trust me. You've got nothing to lose here, Thorin, and everything to gain. Just talk to her."

Thorin sighed and smiled weakly at Dis. "I shall."

As the guests of Thorin's dinner began to disperse, he called you back. "Can I talk with you privately?" he asked.

Dis smiled to herself and winked at Thorin as she disappeared out of the main double doors.

"Of course," you said. You sat down at the table where Dis had been sat. "You look worried. What's bothering you?" The set of his face seemed to be that of anguish. Did this relate to his outburst earlier?

Thorin blinked hard and looked down at the table.

You reached across and took his hand. "You've put your faith and trust in me this far, please do not stop now."

"I..." Thorin began, his silver blue eyes locked with your gaze. "I love you."

You gasped, unable to hold back your shock at this. "You...you..."

"I love you," he said again. "But I'm old, and while I know my sister means well, she doesn't see the years on my face that I do. Every time I look in the mirror, I see one more white hair. My body is littered with scars. I should not be yearning for you the way I do...."

You gripped his hand tighter, your thumb caressing his. "You're not old. You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

"What?"

You smiled as you saw his eyes widen in shock. "I mean it. You are. You might be older than me, Thorin, but I never see your age. I just see a beautiful man who I would never have any chance with."

Thorin chuckled. "You're very wrong in your estimation of chances."

You brushed your hand through his long locks, still smiling as you did so. "These white hairs just add to how handsome you are, you know?"

"You are trying to flatter me now..."

"No, I'm speaking the truth. I'd never speak anything but truth to you. I've seen you look at your own reflection so many times, and I kept wondering if you were growing vain."

Both of you couldn't help but laugh.

Thorin cupped your cheek with his hand. "It felt like with each new white hair you were growing further and further away from me."

"Never," you whispered, and leaned in for a kiss.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @xxbyimm @linasofia @guardianofrivendell @middleearthpixie @knittastically @meganlpie @luna-xial @asgardianhobbit98 @lemond57 @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @missihart23 @eunoiaastralwings @evenstaredits @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @mrsdurin @quiall321 @glassgulls @catthefearless @sazzlep @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @braidedheart

The Hobbit tag list: @flowerniche

Middle-earth tag list: @missmaeve @sotwk

(Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from any tag lists)

1K notes · View notes