#FILI AND KILI NOOO

[kydeliusofevirwinter]

just finsihed the hobbit. guess who is emotionally devastated over a book.

#ITBWAS SO GOOD #THORIN WHY #FILI AND KILI NOOO #ARRGRGGHHGH #the hobbit #ARGGHH #i won’t get over this #i can feel the hobbit changing my brain chemistry #guess who might have a new obsession #rambles

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance​ based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, T.

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

By Any Other Name…

—

Long-haul freight trucking isn’t for everyone. Days, sometimes weeks, away from home; a lot of gas station coffee, leaky motel rooms, and diners with sticky floors and dead-eyed waitresses whose smiles reflect lifetimes of missed opportunities.

Fíli fell into it after uni.

Unlike the majority, he loves his time on the road. Appreciates the peace the job offers. Of course, he misses his loved ones when he’s away for lengths of time, but he’s always been a bit of a hermit. He’s better at listening than engaging, which is perhaps why he considers the radio perfect company.

In particular, a mid-morning radio show that he maybe-sort of-but not really schedules his day around.

            “—And that was Last Christmas by Wham!. Sorry to those of you who almost made it this year!” The DJ cackles, not sorry at all. “Better luck next year.”

            “You’re a menace.” The cohost snorts before introducing the next song, something from the Top 40 to keep things moving.

Kíli Oaks is an incredible radio personality who makes the time pass quickly. Fíli deeply enjoys listening to Kíli’s show whenever it’s on, be it when he’s hauling freight or at home in his kitchen. And while it could be said that harboring a crush on a celebrity is a waste of energy, Fíli is content to indulge it.

His mother worries his interest in Kíli Oaks is hindering his chance of finding someone, “what with dedicating your attention to a disembodied voice.”

It’s a point of contention between them, but Díssandra Durin is a good mum and does her best to be supportive.

Exhibit A:

            “Doesn’t that man on the radio live in Pelargir?” She asked Fíli before he left.

            “And?”

She shrugged as if to say not that it matters, but “Aren’t you going to Pelargir?”

            “Mum, even if I lived near the radio station, the chances of ever meeting him are slim to none.” Fíli said, trying to keep his tone light despite it being the third time she’d made a remark of that nature.

            “You never know.”

            “Trust me, ma, I know. It would be weird, wouldn’t it?” Not that Fíli was angling for an answer. Of course it would be weird.

            “Or it could be a funny story you tell your kids one day.”

Fíli eyed his mother suspiciously, “Or it could be a traumatic story he tells the police.”

He expected her to drop the issue but, instead, she jutted her chin toward the coffee table and said, “Either way, that’s for you.” and carried on knitting as if she didn’t just blow the top of Fíli’s head off with surprise.

Fíli’s stomach clenches in excitement, glancing at the envelope on the dashboard.

While his mother doesn’t endorse his crush on Kíli, she found out about a Christmas special Kíli and his cohost are putting on to raise money for a Christmas charity. In front of a live audience.

An audience Fíli now has a ticket to be a member of.  

He doesn’t know how she did it, considering Kíli has more fans than there were tickets (the show sold out in minutes after the tickets went live), but Fíli’s infinitely grateful.

He listens as Kíli reads a listener’s text aloud, adding an anecdote of his own before both he and his cohost dissolve into fits of breathless, soundless laughter.

            “—That’s not what I said!” Kíli wheezes after his cohost accuses him of defiling a snowman.

Their producer urges them along, trying to herd the chaos into something manageable but Kíli and his cohost keep bantering.

            “Boys,” The producer says sternly, “The next song, please.”

Fíli imagines Kíli wipes the tears from his eyes and composes himself, “Right, right, right,” It seems that what’s cued to play isn’t what Kíli expects because he barks another laugh, “Nooo!’

His cohost squeezes the title of the next song out between giggles, “Here’s Snowman by Sia.” And off they go again, their laughter cut off as the song starts to play.

Fíli grins like an idiot, as if he’s part of the silliness. The adolescent, world is my oyster, everything is possible part of him would love to exchange funny stories with Kíli, watch him laugh until his eyes are glassy, cheeks ruddy and wet. The realistic, adult part of Fíli understands that such things can only happen by divine intervention. Which, in his experience, doesn’t actually exist.

Thus, he’ll go to the show, have a good laugh, respectably ogle Kíli from afar, and then end his evening reading over a cup of mulled wine.  

Brilliant.

***

“He’s so … sad.”

“Are you sure he isn’t too—” Finding the correct words to say ‘serial killer’ without actually saying ‘serial killer’ is difficult. “—antisocial?” Is just as bad, really, but better than ‘maladaptive’ or ‘socially awkward’.

A long, tired groan sounds from between the other two voices. “Don’t either of you have anything else to do?”

            “No.” The first two voices say in unison.

Meet Divine Intervention.

Thranduil peers into the Palantír, silvery hair curtaining his expression, though Gandalf guesses it’s one of disdain. Thranduil has a type; usually six-foot-four and Doriathen, with yodeling accents and donning colorful knitwear.

By contrast, Fíli Durin is a combination of broad strokes and blunt shapes, and a penchant for more subdued seasonal layers.  

            “He isn’t too far away, is he, Gandalf?” Radagast wonders, hovering over Gandalf’s shoulder to watch Fíli’s image in the milky glass, “Will he make it on time?”

            “If you two leave me to my work, I can see to it that he does.” Gandalf puts as much emphasis behind his words as he can muster around the bit of his pipe.

Thranduil and Radagast are deliberately trying to sabotage Gandalf’s progress, he’s certain. It isn’t his fault he has the reputation of casting some of the most intricate and everlasting Tapestries—or as Belinda from HR, in an attempt to rebrand the realm into the 21st Age, calls them: Love Stories.

Gandalf puffs his pipe grouchily at the idea.

As long as there have been a moon and stars, there have been Weavers tasked with the choosing and care of the roses from Lorien’s garden. Each rose contains within its petals a communion, some more momentous than others, but all serving a significant purpose in the lives of those selected to sustain them. A Weaver’s sole responsibility is to match a pair worthy of a rose’s influence and have them meet before the final petal falls. If things go well, the rose blooms anew, radiant and golden, until the span of the—Gandalf shudders—Story is complete.

Otherwise…

Well, nothing happens. Some roses aren’t meant to be epic tales worthy of Shakespearean prose, mild in colour and force. Other roses burn too bright and fizzle out before a Weaver can say Tom Bombadil. It depends partially on the rose and partially on the Weaver’s capabilities.

And Gandalf’s capabilities far exceed those of many Weavers, a fact highlighted by the shelves of thriving roses encases in their glass cloches.

He has full confidence that the pair he selected are absolutely perfect for each other.

Fíli may be content in his aloneness, but he is strong and patient and has so much love to give. And Kíli? Kíli is—

***

“You’re being obnoxious, Kee.” Boromir says, slingshotting another rubberband at Kíli’s forehead.

It hits with a dry snap and falls into the mounting pile in Kíli’s lap, leaving behind a blossoming red spot right between his eyebrows.

“Am not!” Kíli wails through a wide smile, gathers all the rubberbands and lobs them in Boromir’s general direction.

He isn’t. He’s being prudent; a word his grandmother would never use to describe him, but there he is, being just that. Someone’s future happiness rests entirely in the palm of his hand and he will not risk ruining it.

            “You are.” Boromir insists, ignoring their producer, Merry, as he frantically signals for Kíli to prepare for the interlude. “You’ve got that glassy-eyed look you get after a good shag.”

            “I don’t like that you know that about me.”

Boromir bobs his head in consensous, “Nor do I.”

And they’re back on air. Kíli dutifully lists the titles of the songs they just played and introduces the next queue, promises he and Boromir will return for their typical Wednesday slot of Say It or Spray It—a game their old producer concoted to embarrass the shit out of Kíli on his first day hosting the midmorning show.

Needless to say, it had only fueld Kíli’s fire, and look at him now, several years later and a staple at GBC Radio 1.

As soon as their mics are muted again, Kíli whips out his phone, presses his thumb to the print verification button and opens his professional TikTok account.

Boromir rolls his eyes.

Kíli sticks out his tongue.

            “See?” Boromir points toward Kíli with his hand, “Obnoxious.”

Kíli scrolls past hundreds of unread DMs to the thread he’s revisited about forty times in the last hour, swipes through the thread until he reaches the picture attached.

It’s of a man, close to Kíli’s age. Kissable lips swept into a gentle smile, square shoulders and a barrel chest accentuated by the thin, visibly loved band t-shirt worn when the picture was taken. A candid shot at what appears to have been a cookout, hinted to by the long twig he’s hold with a marshmallow speared through the tip.

He’s handsome—very handsome—exactly the sort of bloke Kíli topples head-over-heels for.

            “Your love life is so tragic that someone’s mum is taking pity on you.” Boromir teases, nudging Kíli’s foot with the tip of his shoe.

Kíli wants to sling a comeback at him, but finds he can hardly disagree. Besides, Kíli wouldn’t mind taking the man’s mum up on the offer.

Tragically, she isn’t offering.

She messaged Kíli hoping to get a ticket to Kíli and Boromir’s live audience Christmas special. When Kíli asked his producer about available tickets, he was stunned to discover they’d sold out faster than a Taylor Swift concert.

            “We reserved some for family, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Merry told him.

Kíli replied to the woman, Dís Durin she called herself, with the good news, happy to offer one of his personal tickets to Dís’—very handsome—son, Fíli.

“You’ve got that goofy look on your face again.” Boromir announces. “New update on your boyfriend?”

            “Naff off.” Kíli kicks Boromir’s shin under the table. Boromir oufs in surprise, fixes his face into a glare and retaliates by swatting the top of Kíli’s head.

            “Don’t start, you two, the song’s almost over.” Merry warns, crossing his arms sternly. He slants his gaze toward Kíli, “But Boromir has a point, Kee, you might want to work on that dopey face you make before you meet him. Bit unattractive.”

            “Oi!”

***

Draped across Gandalf’s armchair, where he retreated when he and Radagast were shooed away from the Palantír, Thranduil indicates to Kíli, “I like that one, he has passion.” Then he slides a bored glance back to Fíli, “All that one does is drive around in a big truck.”

            “He must have something up his sleeve,” Radagast says in defense of Gandalf as if he’s not there to do it for himself. “The old rascal wouldn’t risk losing.” That is, the bet Gandalf made with Elrond, a Spindler from the third floor who specializes in forks in the road.

A bet made because, to be frank, Weaving loses its charm after a Weaver’s third millennia performing the task. Sometimes, they need incentive, and high-stakes gambling is the motivation Gandalf requires to ensure he doesn’t wilt a rose into lost opportunity.

            “Quite right.” Gandalf lifts his chin proudly and reprimands Thranduil, “How dare you question my artistic process.”

Thranduil meets his stare flatly. “So,” He says, his tone suspiciously matter-of-fact, “All he has to do is get to Pelargir by the strike of 6?”

            “Yes.” Gandalf says cautiously.

            “Very good. And how exactly do you plan to get him there through an avalanche?”

Gandalf whips his head back to the Palantír, alarmed. Although an avalanche is a mighty exaggeration, the scene unfolding in the glass isn’t much better. Wiggling his fingers in a rapid, deliberate pattern, Gandalf hunches over the Palantír with fierce concentration.

Fíli’s truck rumbles merrily along in the cloudy image to the left. In the image to the right is an unholy dumping of snow. Fíli’s still far enough away that Gandalf has time to maneuver a solution, but the window is narrow.

The situation may require—

Thranduil and Radagast watch Gandalf intently, look at each other and then back to Gandalf.

Slowly, his face set in determination, Gandalf raises from the ether a shovel with a wide, metal blade.

—Drastic. Action.

***

The trouble starts just as Fíli leaves Minas Tirith. Snow falls in sheets, thick and sticky, forcing Fíli to slow his speed and call Central.

            “I stayed ahead of it for awhile,” Fíli explains of the weather, “But it finally caught up to me.”

Bofur snorts, “Guess that luck of yours is finally running out, ay Durin?”

            “Not a chance. Just a little bit of delay. I’ll still make it by this evening.” Fíli reassures, “Just let them know, yeah?”

            “I’m on it. Drive safe, lad!”

Fíli smiles, “Cheers.” and disconnects the call.

Unfortunately, Bofur might’ve been right about Fíli’s luck running out.

Things get worse by Aglarshire, a road closure forcing Fíli to take the exit into town for an impromptu break. After eight hours at the wheel, he’s due one anyway, but he’d hoped to get as far as Karaborough before making the stop.

The snow is really coming down now, and the townships between Minas Tirith and Pelargir aren’t equipped to handle removal like the big cities.

Still, Fíli tries to stay positive.

Almari’s café serves the best stew and crusty bread this side of the White Horns. Almari herself is the motherly sort; a short woman of stout figure and a kind face, somehow able to discern what Fíli needs as soon as he steps through the door.

The café is quiet apart from two men arguing about livestock. A traditional, rustic ambiance of dark wood and brass accents, mismatched tables rubbed in places of their stain and chairs that creak when occupied. An impressive oak bar stretches the length of the wall across from the entrance, hosting a row of tall stools with worn leather seats.

From where she’s polishing silverware, Almari indicates with a blunt knife to a snug corner at one end of the bar. Fíli obliges, pinching off his gloves on the way. He has to remove his coat to sidle between the wall and the counter, and plants himself on the lone stool at an awkward angle before he can maneuver his legs under the bar. Once he’s situated, he turns to hang his coat on the hook above his left shoulder.

It’s a questionable fit, but the space offers a sense of cozy privacy; just what he needs to settle his nerves after driving through nasty weather.

Almari appears and sets a steaming cup of strong coffee in front of him, smiles warmly, and pats his forearm with the affection of an old friend.

            “Bit nippy out there.” She says, brushing snow from his beard with the towel she’d been using to polish the silverware. “Wouldn’t go out there for all the money in the world.”

            “It’s not so bad.” Fíli assures, “At least it’s not icy.”

Almari looks skeptical, “I’m just happy I don’t have far to go when I close up.” Her apartment being directly above the café. “Would be a nightmare trying to find my car after all this snow.”

Fíli agrees. “A real archeological dig, ay?”

Almari considers him sympathetically for a moment before she breaks the news Fíli feared when he was redirected toward Aglarshire. “Make yourself comfortable, dear. The plows might not get to our neck of the woods for awhile yet.”

Fíli’s heart leaps to his throat, but he arranges his features into a neutral guise. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

Almari straightens and smooths down her apron. “The usual, then?”

            “If you don’t mind.”

            “Never, when it comes to you, boy.” Almari leans over the bar again and pinches Fíli’s cheek softly. Then off she sweeps into the kitchen, barking Fíli’s order to the cook, Randolf, her husband of thirty years.

Fíli glances outside, brow knitted. He can hardly see the road through the curtain of snow. He slips a hand in the kangaroo pocket of his sweater and gently holds the envelope he tucked in there for safe keeping, contemplating his options.

At best, he’ll be late. At worst, he’ll miss Kíli’s show altogether and have to apologize to his mother for money wasted. Not that she’ll mind. Nah, she’ll probably take it as a sign from the cosmos that Fíli needs to plant his attention in reality.  

No sense fretting, Fíli resolves and fishes his book from his coat pocket.

Whatever happens, happens.

…And say it again, with feeling.

Fíli huffs through his nose, molars grinding, and flips his book open to where he left off.   

***

This is wholly unorthodox, Weavers traveling through the curtain into Arda, but Gandalf’s mind is made up. Why Thranduil and Radagast join him, he doesn’t know, their motivations none of his concern.

They land as a unit, dropping like stones into the snow from above. Gandalf and Radagast disappear for a moment beneath the plush white, while Thranduil’s head and shoulders pierce the snow, his long, dainty legs the only bit of him now visible to the world.

Gandalf and Radagast pop up, pull themselves free and brush themselves off. Thranduil’s legs kick frantically before either notice he’s stuck. Together, they yank Thranduil free and resume orienting themselves, scanning their surroundings for anything that can help them on their journey.

            “Aha!” Gandalf sees it first, the depot the town uses to house their massive machines.

            “That’s what you have in mind?” Thranduil sounds incredulous, “I thought we shelved your idea to shovel three hundred kilometersofroad.”

Radagast wrings his hands, worried for Gandalf’s sanity.

            “Not shovelling,” Gandalf corrects with a wicked glint in his eye, “Plowing.”

            “Oh my…” Radagast squeaks, as Thranduil erupts, “You cannot possibly think that’s a better solution! You’ve never even used one of those ghastly contraptions!”

Gandalf waves him off, “How hard could it be?” and trudges forward, carving a path for Radagast and Thranduil to follow.

As it turns out, it’s incredibly hard. For three whimsical beings of the Otherlands, anyway.

Once they locate the right machine, one boasting a large, yawning blade at its front, they struggle to bring it to life. Gandalf and Radagast fiddle with levers and buttons, pressing and pulling things at random.

            “What about this one?”

            “No, no, no, it must be this one.”

            “Or this one.”

Thranduil rolls his eyes, content not to participate. No, he’s a being of acute intelligence and has a better idea than pushing and prodding everything like toddlers in an elevator.  

Without saying a word, he marches toward what a sign specifies is the Main Office. He enters and slips behind the front desk to study a corkboard filled with rows of keys, all labeled neatly for convenience.

At least these Gondorian neanderthals are organized, he muses.

It takes less than a minute for him to locate the right key. Just as he wraps his fingers around it—

            “Hey! Who are you!?” A man shaped like a star demands. He’s round in the middle and thin everywhere else with a head of stringy black hair. The stench of self-importance radiating from him suggests to Thranduil he’s the one in charge of the fleet of machines.

Thranduil groans dramatically, completely put-off by the whole situation, “Well, shit.” In a calculated act of defense, he grabs the computer off the front desk and brings it down on the man’s head.  

He crumples into a heap instantly.

Thranduil takes the right key, steps over the man elegantly, and marches back to Gandalf and Radagast.   

***

            “Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Almari tells him, watching through the snow the silhouette of a snowplow thunder down the road at speed. She frowns, “Can’t always believe what they tell you on the news, can you?”

            “‘Spose not,” Fíli chuckles, fishing a Ꞓ201 note from his wallet and dropping it on the bar. “I’d better be off.” He shrugs on his coat, flashing a bright smile at Almari, “Thanks for lunch, it was delicious as ever.”

            “Stop in on your way back.” Almari instructs, “I’ve a special Christmas menu that I think you’ll enjoy.”

Fíli nods, walking backward a few steps, “Will do.” He salutes playfully then spins around and pushes through the door. The wind and snow hit him like a brick wall, almost forcing him backward. Thankfully, he’s made of stronger stuff, and shoulders his way toward his truck.

Though the road has been cleared, the car park is still covered in a blanket of white that reaches halfway to Fíli’s knees. Not ideal, Fíli thinks, but doable. If he leaves now, he’ll make it to Pelargir and complete his delivery by early evening, as intended with the mild delay.

He only hopes things go smoothly from here.

***

Kíli squints against the stage lights, but it’s impossible to distinguish anyone in the audience. Both he and Boromir are already in their places, microphones adjusted to their preferences, muted until the broadcast starts.

He kept an eye out for Fíli while backstage, peeking into the auditorium as often as Merry would allow (which wasn’t often, between frog marching Kíli to hair and makeup, and debriefing Kíli and Boromir on their lineup of special guests and the playlist).

Never in a million years did Kíli think he would be this dedicated to making a fan happy. Usually, that’s PRs job, fussing over giftbags and food boxes, when and where fans can meet the DJs, and so on. This time, Kíli forced his involvement, questioning Rosie about Fíli’s seating arrangement and whether or not he’ll receive a one-on-one with Kíli after the show ends.

Rosie massaged her temples, said in a clipped tone, “Kíli, please, let me do my job.”

            “I just—”

She raised her hands in a gesture parents use to calm their children, “I understand this is important to you, but just worry about the show. I’ve taken care of everything. Your guest will be treated like royalty, just like the other invitees, alright?”

Kíli swallowed and nodded shortly, “Alright.”

Now, he fiddles with the ungodly Christmas blazer wardrobe forced him into. The pattern is bright green-and-red plaid embroidered with sparkly gold thread. Beneath he wears a thin sweater in a crisp white with the image of a fluffy Christmas tree on the front, and, under that, a red, collared shirt.

Boromir dons an equally as gaudy combination, though he seems far less uncomfortable, sprawled in his chair like a king at a feast, texting his wife who sits in the audience only meters away.

“Two minutes.” Merry announces, coming up to them. “You two ready?”

“Yes.” Boromir says at the same time Kíli says, “No.”

“Well, pull it together, man,” Merry insists as he grabs a handheld microphone and prepares to deliver his welcome introduction to the audience. “Don’t forget to smile!” He urges, tracing an exaggerated U over his mouth with his forefingers, before trotting to the front of the stage and signalling to the sound booth.

            “Mate, you’ve never been nervous a day in your life.” Boromir reminds Kíli, “You’ve got this.” He reaches forward and squeezes Kíli’s shoulder. “Right?”

            “Right.” Kíli says and, for the first time since he started a career in radio, he doesn’t believe it.

***

After abandoning the wreckage of the snowplow in a ditch for the town to deal with, Gandalf, Thranduil and Radagast stomp through the door of Gandalf’s office, dusting snow off their shoulders and shaking it out of their hair.

            “That was the worst thing you’ve ever done.” Thranduil says, plopping into the armchair. “I can’t believe we weren’t killed.”

            “Close enough,” Radagast winces, rubbing the lump at the back of his head.

Gandalf grins, pleased with himself. “It worked, didn’t it?”

            “Fine and well,” Thranduil flaps a hand toward the Palantír, “But what about that? You want to plow through a bunch of civilians, too?”

Deflating, Gandalf watches the image shift from Fíli’s truck to the kilometers of bumper-to-bumper traffic heading into Pelargir. Construction lights and road signs herd cars into one of five lanes, the other four closed for repaving.

Because of fucking course it is.

            “He’s not going to make it,” Radagast laments, hand over his heart. “Even after all we’ve done…”

            “Mmm.”

Thranduil pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe I have to say this, but: you are aware there’s a whole city and many hours of night at your fingertips, yes?”

Gandalf stares at him inquisitively, inviting Thranduil to continue, “They don’t need to meet at the show.”

Radagast brightens, “They don’t need to meet at the show!”

            “I’m surprised how much you care.” Gandalf admits to Thranduil. “I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

            “Oh, shut up. I just don’t want to see you lose your bet. Elrond is insufferable enough as it is.” He amends and stands, holding out a hand for Gandalf to take, “Now, let’s see this shitshow through to the end, shall we?”

            “Indeed.”

***

Fíli didn’t make it.

The traffic into the city was worse than Fíli’s ever experienced in all his days hauling freight. It crawled ahead by inches for close to two hours, during which Fíli listened to the Christmas special with a broken heart.

He knows better now than to get his hopes up about this sort of thing. Not that he expected much out of the evening, at most an autograph or a handshake.

Still…

Fíli shakes his head, hellbent on turning the night around.

The delivery successful, albeit an hour later than scheduled, he takes the underground downtown and roams the busy streets. Pelargir looks like something out of a Hallmark movie, glittering under strings of gold and coloured lights. Storefronts are decorated with garland and baubles and tinsel, all arranged to evoke Christmas cheer.

It works, the chill of dismay lifting ever-so-slightly from Fíli’s chest.

Fíli plucks his way through the bustling crowd, keeping an eye out for somewhere to eat. He’s decided to treat himself to something fancier than he’s used to. Somewhere with cloth napkins and unique cutlery for each dish.

He spends twenty minutes wandering up and down the maze of streets, reading menu displays and peeking in windows at restaurant floors crammed with guests. Turning another corner, Fíli’s just about to throw in the towel and find the nearest fast-food joint when he, quite literally, stumbles upon a small sidewalk a-frame that’s chalk lettering promises Festive Fancies Within.

Fíli scans the area, hoping that no one saw him trip over the sign, and sets it to rights.

It’s as good a place as any, less busy than everywhere else, though still hosting a fair amount of people. Fíli is greeted by a cheerful looking older gentleman with twinkly grey eyes and a beard to match.

            “How many?” The gentleman inquires.

            “Just me.” 

            “Ah, for one. I can only offer a seat at the bar, I’m afraid. Though, rest assured, the service is exceptional.”

Fíli shrugs, already unwrapping his scarf and shoving his gloves in his coat pocket. “Suits me just fine.” He says and allows the gentleman to escort him to a seat near the middle of the bar.

The bartender casts him a smile, indicating he’ll be right with him, and continues to expertly shake and prepare multiple drinks at a time. Fíli watches the bartender pour the contents of one shaker into a chilled martini glass with a flourish, while bouncing another shaker from his elbow into his hand before emptying it into a rocks glass filled with a single, large cube of ice.

Fíli doesn’t bother to hide his awe, never having been anywhere the bartenders perform tricks. It’s obvious the bartender appreciates Fíli’s open admiration since he slides Fíli a drink with three discernable layers— seasonal red, white, and green—in a tall glass, garnished with a spear of dark cherries and lime, and a sugar-frosted rim.

            “Thank you.” He says when the bartender approaches to drop a menu in front of him.

            “My pleasure.” The bartender smirks, “Just signal me when you’re ready to order.” And off he swans, plucking a long chit from the machine behind the bar and filling its order in an intricate series of movements not unlike a ballet.

***

Kíli feels like he’s being followed. He’s not unfamiliar with the sensation. Since being on the radio and hosting a handful of televised events, a few enthusiastic encounters occurred on behalf of fans. Normally, he invites the adoration, wanting to accommodate those who support his career; they’re responsible for his success, after all.

Tonight, however, he’s not in the mood.

He wasn’t expecting to feel such crushing disappointment when Rosie informed him after the show that Fíli hadn’t been in the audience. The show itself was a resounding success, deserving of the standing ovation it received when the broadcast ended.

Only, Kíli can’t bring himself to be proud. He was looking forward to meeting Fíli, had a plan to invite him out for a drink—maybe a meal—get to know the man whose mother loves him so much, she’d slipped into Kíli’s DMs.

The tingling at his nape increases, the feeling of being followed morphing into something ominous.  

Not wanting to be axe-murdered, Kíli picks up his pace, striding around a corner as quick as he can without drawing attention to himself. As he’s about to break into a full-out run, he trips and crashes into a restaurant a-frame, ill-placed in the middle of the sidewalk.

            “What the shit!” He cries, hurrying back to his feet. It’s then that he notices a crooked figure rounding the corner. “Vala—” He bolts up the cobblestone path to the door of the restaurant and practically falls inside.

There are a fair few people (witnesses, Kíli thinks, relieved) conversing over expensive looking meals and bottles of wine. The place has an old-world charm about it, stone walls and exposed beams, the waiters donning bowties and polished shoes.

            “Hello.” The host greets him, startling Kíli.

            “Hi!” He chokes out. The host looks ancient, sort of wizardlike. “Hi, yes, sorry.” He tries again, surreptitiously glancing behind him to see if the crooked figure has followed him inside.

The doorway is empty.

            “For one, please.”

The host picks up a menu, “The bar is open for full-service, tonight,” he explains, “Unfortunately our tables are reserved for parties of two or more.”

            “Sounds great,” Kíli follows the host to the end of the bar, unzipping his leather jacket and pulling off his scarf. He’s so focused on getting himself sorted that he doesn’t notice the bartender delivering a pint of Guiness he didn’t order until a coaster is placed in front of him.

Kíli’s about to say something when the bartender, a dazzling man with silvery hair, informs him, “From the gentleman at the end.” and hooks his thumb over his shoulder in the direction he’s referring to.

            “Oh,” Kíli slopes to the side to see around the bartender and his jaw drops. “Oh…!”

He can’t believe it. There, sitting alone, slouched over a book that has his full concentration, is Fíli Durin. Kíli can’t help the airy laugh he lets out and quickly gathers his jacket and scarf.

            “Thank you,” He says to the bartender, who sports an oddly conspiratorial grin, “I’m just going to—yeah.” In his excitement, Kíli almost forgets his pint, grabs it at the last second, and scurries—not too eagerly, lest he present himself as a wanker—to fill the vacant seat beside Fíli.

Fíli, so enraptured by his book, doesn’t notice.

Kíli clears his throat, “Um, hi there.”

Fíli’s head jerks up, eyes wide, and slowly turns to face Kíli, face slackening into pure shock. Kíli’s heart is in his throat, palms suddenly clammy. Fíli is more handsome in person than in the picture Dís sent.

            “I—you don’t mind, do you?” He asks about the seating arrangement.

Fíli blinks, seeming to come back to himself, “No. No, please, go ahead.”

            “You’re Fíli. Fíli Durin, right?”

Visibly confused, Fíli answers slowly, “Um, yes. How did you—?“

Kíli cuts in quickly to avoid being mistaken for a stalker. “—Your mum sent me a message a few days ago.”

He’s never seen anyone look so delicious when processing the shock and horror of a mother’s good intentions. Fíli makes it work.

            “Oh, Mahal, she didn’t.” Fíli drops his head into his hands, his broad shoulders shaking as he chuckles through the embarrassment.

            “I thought it was adorable.” Kíli admits and catches Fíli’s gaze, holding it for a few seconds before casting his eyes downward.

Fíli barks a laugh, a sound that sends a jolt of heat to Kíli’s gut, “You did not.”

            “I did!” Kíli shifts closer to Fíli and winks, “I really appreciated the picture she sent, too. I didn’t know Nibin Noeg had any fans left after their last album.”

They banter back and forth; the way Kíli doesn’t know Fíli always imagined they would. The conversation swells and eases by turns, the two slowly losing themselves in one another as the world around them trickles away.

Fíli is interesting and funny and more than Kíli assumed, and Kíli doesn’t want to be anywhere else ever again.

From the look Fíli gives him, Kíli thinks Fíli feels the same.

***

Collapsing into various seats around Gandalf’s office, the three Weavers heave sighs of relief.

            “We did it.”

            “Understatement of the century, Gandalf.” Thranduil retorts, summoning a cup of elderberry tea. He directs his next statement to Radagast, “I can’t believe you got him—” that is, Kíli, “—there on time.”

Radagast shrugs helplessly, “I didn’t. I lost him outside the theater.”

They allow the information to marinate between them for a minute before Gandalf snorts and then erupts into booming laughter. Thranduil joins him next and then Radagast, though somewhat less enthusiastically.

There are three things a Weaver understands intrinsically.

One, Weavers aren’t miracle-makers.

Two, Weavers can’t force love to happen where it doesn’t want to.

And three, Eternal Love is a rare gem that will bring two people together.

With or without a Weaver’s interference.

Gandalf flicks his wrist and catches a stein of lager that appears, takes a deep drink, and says thoughtfully, “What a bloody waste of time.”

            “At least you get to keep your hat.” Radagast points out.

            “Very true, old friend, very true…”

 ***

END

1 – I wanted to incorporate Castar currency, but there obviously isn’t a symbol for it so…this is what I liked best XD

#submission #Gathering 12 Days 2023 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit

[luna-writes-stuff]

Day 15: Faith, Kili Durin

Song link I altered the song lyrics slightly, so it makes sense for the reader's pronouns!

Fanfic, she/they pronouns for reader

Fluff, mutual pining, everyone lives! AU

Word count: 2982

Tw: The story does not really go with the song, but I promise you, it's cute. Kili cries, Kili is insecure, Kili is feeling anxious. This is just Kili suffering, but it’s adorable, trust me. Everyone lives! AU

Summary: Kili has never been scared of anything. Not until he met you. The minute he set his eyes on you, he knew you were his One. But he grew scared of rejection and never told you. But now, five months after reclaiming Erebor, he finally takes his shot. And it ends up in the cutest way possible.

"See the girl with the diamonds in her shoes? They walk around like they've got nothin' to lose."

"Fi. Fi!" Kili whispered, tugging on his brother's sleeve as his eyes seemed to land on a certain person. "They're here again!" The brown-haired prince exclaimed quietly.

Fili followed his brother's gaze, his eyes landing on you, who had been in deep conversation with one of the servants.

"That's great!" He encouraged. "Go talk to them!"

"And say what?" Kili asked, letting go of his brother, yet his eyes did not once wander from your form. "What will we talk about?"

"About how you have wanted to marry her the day you met." Fili mocked, fluttering his lashes with a fake smile.

It had been true. You had traveled with the company to Erebor and Kili had always felt that special pull towards you. Yet, as the mountain was reclaimed, you seemed to stray from him. He was about to take his chance the second the battle of the five armies was over, but he knew you were trying to avoid him all of the sudden, so he gave you time to figure it out.

But that was five months ago. And things between the two of you had gotten more awkward than ever. But still, you remained at Erebor, and Kili could not help but wonder why.

"Yeah, she's a go-getter, they're everybody's type. She's a queen of the city, but they don't believe the hype."

Kili had noticed the lingering looks of many who passed the halls and caught sight of you, and he had slowly begun to loose his hope and confidence, no longer knowing how to reach you. Nevertheless, he wanted that single moment with you. Before someone would run off with you. He had to give you a piece of his mind. But it was more difficult than he had hoped.

"You're dreaming again." Fili noted, pushing his brother jokingly, shaking his head.

"You should really walk up to them. You two haven't had a proper conversation for a couple weeks now. What changed?" The blond wondered.

"I don't know, but I miss her." Kili confessed, unconsiously toying with the ropes on his attire.

"Stop that." Fili scolded, hitting his hands.

"What if they hate me?" The younger Durin asked anxiously, already not liking his options.

"Of course they don't, you absolute fool." Fili laughed, but when his brother refused to join, he halted. He scanned Kili's face, seeing flashed of doubt and uncertainty cross his features. He nearly felt bad for the poor dwarf.

"Maybe you can write her a letter, if talking is what scares you. Ask her to meet up when you gathered the words." Fili advised, to which his brother's face lit up.

"I will!" Kili nodded enthousiastically.

"Thank you."

"She's got her own elevation, holy motivation. So I wrote some letters out in big bold type."

The idea had been great, but the execution not so. Hours had gone by since Kili had sat down on the chair in front of his desk and a letter had yet to touch the paper.

He had no idea what to say. The two of you had been so close the entire journey; what happened? Surely, you could not hate him, for you were still inside the mountain, but you had not made any effort to speak to him. And he lost his courage because of it.

He remembered the laughs you shared, the stories you told, the songs you sang, but it had disappeared before he could even realize it.

And that's when it came to him; the words he had been looking for this entire time.

"I got faith in you, baby. I got faith in you now. And you've been such a, such a good friend to me. Know that I love you somehow."

He had it all planned out, he would subtly pass you room and drop the paper, tying a tiny pebble to it for the weight, to make sure it would not fly off into the air. Not that there had been much wind inside the mountain, but you could never be too sure.

Afterwards, he made sure to walk up to Fili, and tell him about his plan. In hindsight, it might have been a smarter idea to confront him before everything had been set in motion, but Kili was spontaneous and had no sense of consequences.

So upon figuring out he should have mentioned in the note where he wanted to meet, he grew panicked.

"I met you, hallelujah. I got faith."

"Well, at least you have her attention now." Fili tried to soothe.

"How could I have forgotten that?" Kili exclaimed fearfully.

"Does it matter? What did you write to her?" His older brother questioned, now curious for the words Kili had put down.

"Just the casual 'how are you' stuff?" The brown haired dwarf explained, but his tone was almost as if he had not been that sure anymore. "Just about the quest and about the mountain itself. I asked them why they decided to stay."

And with those words, Fili face palmed. "How exactly did you formulate that sentence? Where you ask her why she stayed?"

"Why are you still at Erebor?" Kili quoted, now uncomfortable with the way Fili grew worried at his revelations.

"Oh no." He mumbled, now realizing his mistake. "That sounds rude."

Fili nodded quickly, his face now as fearful as his brother's had been. "Grab that note before they find it!"

"I will!" Kili shouted, having already ran off in the direction of his letter.

"See the boy with the Stevie Wonder swag? Ain't got a clue all the magic that he has."

While you have no longer been in touch with Kili for a while, you tried to make an appearance every day. Since the mountain had been reclaimed, you assumed the throne grew more important, and that's the reason Kili had been distant. So you gave him his distance too.

But you missed the little talks you held during nights of the travels. You could feel his eyes on you every single day in the halls, but he had not yet made the move to talk to you. And you figured it had been because he was busy.

So you stayed. For him. Just in case he still wanted you with him. And you would not leave until he would ask you to. And the thought of it drove you insane. Even as it had been months since you spoke, he still had that grip over you; something that simply made you grow intoxicated with the young dwarven prince.

And you hated the feeling as much as you loved it.

"He's a go-getter, he's everybody's type. I'mma make it my mission, make him feel alright."

You could give him his space for as long as he wanted, but over time it began to hurt. The sweet hold he would have on you when he had been laughing too much had become a mere ghost. His soothing voice had yet to reach your ears while the sight of his eyes became one you would only ever see in your dreams.

And it infuriated you. Because every time you turned to look at him, he turned away. Almost as if he had been trying to ignore you. Even as you felt his stare throughout the day.

"He's a twelve on a ten point, rockin' out to his joint. Just say the word, 'cause I could sing all night."

But a shimmer of hope had still been there. Perhaps today would be the day he would come up to me again. That is what you had told yourself every day. And the worst part of it was, is that no matter how much he had kept to himself, if he would walk up to you and ask you to run away with him, you would. Without even an ounce of hesitation.

So, when you found that letter in front of your door, your heart skipped a beat. Because that had been Kili's handwriting. You had known it all too well. It had been so familiar. And it brought a light feeling to your stomach.

One you hadn't felt in five months.

"I got faith in you, baby. I got faith in you now. And you've been such a, such a good friend to me. Know that I love you somehow."

As Kili arrived at your door, the letter nowhere in sight, his heart dropped. He had only been gone for a few minutes. How could you have found his note so quickly?

Perhaps he should knock on the door. Maybe you hadn't even read it yet and he could still save himself. But what would he say? How would he get himself out of this one?

But it had appeared he did not need to do anything, for the door flew open in front of his eyes, with you standing in its opening.

And just like that, his breath got stuck in his throat, his eyes connecting with yours as a strange sense of relief flooded his senses, even though his anxiety was piling up.

"Hey." He choked out, connecting his hands with each other as he bounced on the back of his feet.

"Hi." You returned hesitantly, the letter in your hands. Kili spotted the parchment immediately, swallowing thickly. A thousand thoughts raced through his head once more. He could not read you face. Not as he once could. He did not know whether you were insulted, or perhaps relieved. Relieved as he momentarily felt upon seeing you again. Speaking to you again.

"I met you, hallelujah. I got faith, faith."

"Did you...um.." He trailed off, pointing towards the paper.

You shook out of your daze, following his eyes before nodding in assurance. "Yes, I did." You managed out. "You said you wanted to meet."

"But I did not say where." Kili filled in, though he bit his tongue upon realizing he had interrupted you, not meaning to sound as harsh as he did in the letter.

"Well," You announced quietly. "Here I am."

"I get around ya and my mind goes crazy. I think about you mornin', noon, night and day. I get around ya and my mind goes crazy. I think about you mornin', noon, night and day."

"Did you..." You asked, but stopped your sentence halfway. "Never mind." You tried to cover up.

"Oh, that." Kili spoke nervously. "I did not mean to sound rude about the whole...staying in the mountain thing. I was just wondering why you stuck around." He confessed, his heart beating quicker than it ever did. He had experienced fear before, but none felt as threatening as this one.

"Not that I mind." He threw in. "I think it's great you decided to stay. Here. In the mountain. With m- us. The company."

"I was not talking about that." You whispered, your face heating up at his question. Kili gave you a doubting look, every sentence that went into the letter suddenly forgotten by him. The gears in his head began to turn as he thought about what could have bothered you.

"Did you mean what you said in that letter?"

Now his train of thought stopped, coming up with only one answer. One which was spoken quickly; "Yes"

"I get around you and my mind goes crazy I think about you mornin', noon, night and day. I got faith in you, honey. I got faith in you, girl."

"You did?" You gaped.

"Y-yes. Though I do not know what you mean." The prince admitted. "But every word on there is true. You have my word."

You nodded at him, your eyes wandering towards anything but his eyes. Now that he was so close, you could not longer bring yourself to look at him anymore. And why, you did not know.

"The part where you spoke about Laketown." You whispered.

And that was the exact moment Kili could swear the walls were closing in on him. The Laketown part. He did not know he had written that down too. When he began writing, he just let his hands put down everything on his mind. He had no control of every word that was on that paper.

But the Laketown thing. That is one thing he did not expect for himself to write down.

"I met you, hallelujah."

During your stay at Laketown, he had been toying with the bead inside his pocket the entire time. One he crafted out of wood all the way back at Beorn's home. Especially for you.

During the Laketown events, his gravitation towards you became nigh unbearable. He had the uncontrollable urge to simply hold you close and run his fingers through your hair, loving you as no other ever would. It were things he had not even spoken about to his brother.

Kili had remembered crying himself to sleep that night, the thought of not being with you mentally hurting him, though he still did not make the intention to act on it. He could not bring himself to. He never held a fear of rejection. He always took his shot, not afraid of anything that would follow, but simply the idea of you not accepting his courting proposal would surely hunt him for the rest of his days.

So he hid. And he still did. And it affected him every day. Every day, until now.

"I got faith in you, baby. I got faith in you now. And you've been such a, such a good friend to me. Know that I love you somehow."

"You are my One." He choked out, no longer beating around the bush. "And I have known from the moment I set foot into that hole in the Shire."

"Kili..." You mumbled, stepping towards him as you grabbed his hands, which were peeling off pieces of his skin that he did not even seem to notice.

"And I never told you, because I feared you did not feel the same. We had such a great bond and I was scared of losing that." The young dwarf confessed.

"I understand." You soothed, rubbing the skin of his hands.

"But you don't. I have never been scared. Not the way I feared losing you. I never cared about what others thought and I thought it would only help me, but you scare me." Kili explained, a stray tear escaping his eyes.

"I don't want to be scared of you. How can one be scared of that what he loves most?"

"I met you, hallelujah. I got faith. Faith, faith, baby."

"You love me?" You managed to speak, his words catching you completely off guard.

"So much." Kili said as he let out a choked sob, another tear running over his cheek. "So much it just hurts. And I want it to stop hurting."

He now turned his hands in yours, squeezing them gently as he relished in the feeling. This is what he had missed; your hands in his, your voice reaching his ears, your eyes staring into his. He had missed it so much that he could not even begin to comprehend it.

"I want to help." You whispered, before opening your arms for him, bringing him into a hug. Kili rested his head against you shoulder, sobbing into it as you gently ran your fingers through his hair, trying to find some way to soothe him. Kili’s hands desperately held onto your back, holding you closer than he had ever done before, finally letting go of his worries. He was back in your arms, and that was all that mattered at the moment. The simple gesture of being there for him was enough to overwhelm him.

"Ssshh." You muttured into his ear as you began swaying from foot to foot, carrying him with you slightly as you felt his teardrops fall onto your shoulder.

"It's okay, Kili. I'm here to help you out." You assured, standing there with him, in an empty, yet now warm hallway.

"I got faith in you, baby. I got faith in you now. And you've been such a, such a good friend to me. Know that I love you somehow."

After a while, Kili finally lifted his head from your shoulder, staring into your eyes with his cheeks red, his eyes still glossy from his tears. Once more, you grabbed his hand, now intertwining it with yours.

"Do you still have that bead?" You asked softly, a lonely tear of your own now trailing from your eye too.

The dwarven prince wordlessly nodded, reaching his free hand into his pockets as he seemed to look for it. A short moment later, he returned with the wooden bead, which in the mean time had suffered its wounds, but it would still function as a normal hair accesoire.

"Are you sure you want to be with me?" Kili asked silently, his voice half broken, though his words rang true. "I can be a handful at times."

"I know." You laughed with a sob, wiping away your tear. "But I wouldn't want to be with anyone if it cannot be you." You admitted, gently taking the bead as you inspected it, your hands still not letting go of his.

"It's beautiful." You sighed, looking at the small carvings Kili had made in the tiny object. It nearly made you wonder how he ever got them there.

"Thank you." You spoke genuinely, before letting go of his hand.

"I met you, hallelujah. I met you, hallelujah.

"Will you braid it in for me?" You proposed, a hopeful grin appearing on your face. Kili sniffed, before frantically nodding.

"Will you please enter, then? I do not think braiding can be practised correctly while standing up." You offered, taking a step to the side as you gestured towards your room, silently inviting him in.

"It would be difficult." Kili answered with a thankful smile, following you into your room as his heart leapt with joy.

His heart beating irregularly had grown normal for him since he met you; whether it had been because of love, hope or fear. But now it was beating out of pure happiness, a feeling he had welcomed with open arms. One that he would not lose even as the world would start to collapse.

Not now that he had you at his side.

"I met you, hallelujah. I got faith."

—

Taglist: @deathofafangirl01 @fallenangeloflight @chaoticpaintsplatter @radbarbariancupcake @justnerdystuffs

#absolutely I did not imagine Raewyn and kili in the last few paragraphs #no way #and it absolutely did not make me cry #nooo #not at all #november writings #tolkien #kili x reader #the hobbit #kili durin #fili and kili #kili #kili imagine #aidan turner #Aidan turner x reader

[branching-paths]

Of Darkness and Love

AN: I just edited this to add a read more! Gonna queue a whole lot more, get ready for more updates!!!

Okay, so my head hurt, something was caked on my clothes, and I was on something squishy soft. It felt like a bed. Anything but what I last remember, which was flying on the saddle. I heard people talking in something, it wasn't basic or Khuzdul. It sounded like- Oh crap.... I sat up and kicked whoever was near my legs. I threw a punch at whoever was at my left as my eyes flung open. Pitch black nothingness met me, but it didn't stop me. Someone was moaning on the floor behind what ever I was laying on, another was trying to block my next punch by his ruffling clothes. I kicked at him, bent my leg and hooked it against his knee. I pulled and he went down with a yelp. I brought my arms back up to block in case anyone else was in the room. The door creaked open and I ran towards it.

    "Whoa, hey Myrin," Kili said as I grabbed his shirt collar and readied to punch him. I was expecting someone to be trying to exit, not come in. "Could you let me go," He asked nervously.     "Where in Durin's name am I," I snarled as I let go.     "Rivendell," Fili said behind Kili. "What was that- You knocked out Estel?!" Fili rushed past me and disappeared from sound.     "How are you two walking around," I shouted. "It's pitch black in here! Is it midnight or something?!"     "Nooo....... It's actually around one in the after noon," Fili said. I turned towards where his voice came from.     "Then open the shutters or something," I shouted at him. Silence for a few minuets. I felt something in front of my face, blowing air into it. I caught someone's hand.     "What are you doing," I asked whoever's hand I caught.     "Can you see what my face is doing," Kili asked, pulling his hand out of my grip. I snorted.     "I can't even see my own nose." Someone moaned behind me.     "You never said she could punch like Elladan," Some guy moaned. I think he was Estel, because that was the last place Fili's voice had come from. More silence. Someone took my hand and pulled it towards the door, I think.     "Maybe you should see Oin," Fili said, pulling me along. I almost made a smart-alek comment, but I ran into something, so I yelped. "Definitely see Oin," Fili said, pulling me towards nothingness. Someone came running towards Fili and I, then grabbed my hand.     "Estel's waking up Elrohir, then they're going to Elrond," Kili said, patting my hand. I frowned, since when did Fili and Kili get along with Elves? I supposed they were elves, since we we're in Rivendell. A few more minuets of walking in nothingness, then I felt something about five inches in front of my face. The squeak of a doorknob and hinges, then Kili lead me inside the room.  Fili followed inside and let go of my hand. Kili did too, and I felt a little helpless.     "Glad you're up Myrin," Oin said. A chair moved across some sort of stone and Oin grunted.     "So am I," I growled.     "You normally keep eye contact, yet you aren't," Oin commented, from a different spot in the room. I turned towards him. Then someone touched my arm. I grabbed the arm and twisted it around. "Ouch," He growled. I let go.     "Sorry," I mumbled. A few more silent seconds.     "What number am I holding up," Kili asked. I sighed and lowered my arms.     "Forty eight," I growled. "I don't know!" Someone grabbed my hand and shoulder, then shoved down, so I sat down in a chair. Someone covered my eyes with their hand, then removed it a few times, back and forth.     "Everything looks okay," Oin said. I snorted. "Stay here, I have to go get E- erh...... Someone...." Oin opened the door and stomped out. Fili and Kili, if they were still in the room, were silent. Someone walked in on silent feet with I think Oin. I suspect it was an Elf, because of their silent footsteps.     "Welcome back Myrin," He said kindly. I cocked my head, listening to him but not showing that I heard him. "Your healer told me that you can't see anything," He continued, getting closer and closer as he talked. He stopped in front of me, or behind me. His voice was right above my head, so I couldn't tell. Something touched the back of my head and pain shot through my head. I grunted and wrinkled my face. Man, that hurt! "Please tell me how you came by this," The elf said.     "I was leading some Orcs away, and something hit my head," I said rudely. Thorin wasn't the only one with a grudge.     "Was it a rock, or something else," He pushed. I raised my shoulders.     "It. Was. Something. Hard! I don't know what it was! I know it bounced off my head. As if that helps...."     "It actually does," The elf said standing up. I felt his eyes boring into me, and I didn't like it one bit.     "Could you not do that," I growled at him, turning around.     "Do what," He asked.     "Whispering about me! So maybe I can't see, but I can still hear. What were you saying?" A few silent moments, during which Fili and Kili were hissing.     "You've gone blind-"     "Duh!"     "-Because of a concussion. You might get it back, you might not." He paused and let it sink in. I growled and leaned back in my chair. Rubbing my face, I growled a little more. I shoved my thumbs under my arms and whistled.     "Well, that's unexpected," Kili said.     "What," I asked.     "You're taking this well..." In truth, I wasn't. On the outside, yeah, but inside... was a different story. Have you ever seen someone go on a rampage, breaking everything in their way? Okay, now imagine someone huddled in a corner, rocking back and forth in the fetal position. I was something like that on the inside.     "I think Oakenshield might want to know," The elf said, patting my shoulder. Crap.....

    I stood in Elrond's study, touching a velvety armchair and biting my bottom lip. Elrond was sitting at what I think was his desk. What ever I ran into when he brought me in here. It was wood, and sturdy, covered with papers, so I assumed it was a desk. Thorin, Bilbo and Gandalf were in there also, scattered around the room. I could hear a fire, despite it being the middle of June, the twenty second to be exact.     "Are you sure you can't help," Bilbo pressed Elrond. "She's blind unless-"     "Yes, Bilbo," Elrond said, somehow showing nothing in his voice. Maybe a hint of compassion towards me, but it was emotionless.     "I thought elven magic could do anything," Thorin sneered from over by the fire. I could almost see Elrond, what ever he looked like, turn his gaze at Thorin and almost frown at him. Elves didn't show emotions, ever.     "No, not everything," Elrond nearly sneered back. Thorin snorted again, my turn to glare at him. I hoped it was him, at least.     "To the left about two feet Myrin," Gandalf said. Okay, so I was glaring at Gandalf... Oops.     "She is welcome to stay here-"     "No," I said, interrupting Elrond. "I will not stay here." I fingered the hem of the chair, feeling the stiches in the velvet as the tension in the room rose.     "We'll talk about it in the morning," Gandalf said, releasing the tension. Someone took my hand, I think it was Bilbo, and pulled gently at it. I shoved off the chair and followed the hobbit. Food met my nose, and my mouth watered. Wonderful, wonderful food! The smell left us as we turned to the left.     "Where are we going," I asked.     "To the dining pavilion," The hobbit said.

    Four days past before anything more happened. I was getting acquainted with the elves Fili and Kili befriended. Estel, Elladan, and Elrohir were Lord Elrond's sons. He also had a daughter, but she made a point to stay away from her brothers. The boys were trying their hardest to keep me entertained, but I couldn't see anything... That put a huge damper on their entertaining, but it didn't damper their enthusiasm. All the company took turns leading me around, trying to explain what Rivendell looked like to me, but I didn't care. I would have been living here if a snake hadn't bitten me when I was little. On day five, Bofur brought me a staff thing he made to help me walk around. It was like a cane, but made of a piece of oak, sanded and polished until it was smoother then the best crafted marble. Day six I was getting my way around pretty well. I knew where my room was, the dining pavilion and Elrond's study. I only knew where that was because I had to pass it whenever I went out. Lakita stayed in the garden closest to my quarters, and woke me up every morning by sticking her head in the window and squeaking at me. It was rather adorable, hearing her squeak. My hearing was getting better, now that I had to rely on it more. That's actually what kept an apple from breaking my nose. I caught it as it whizzed towards me.     "Nice," Thorin said from the door of the garden. I held the apple in my hands, rubbing it.     "What are you doing here," I asked. Thorin walked towards me and grabbed my shoulder gently.     "Just seeing how you're doing," He said quietly. I shrugged.     "Okay, I guess...." Thorin kissed my cheek. "Hey, someone will see," I hissed at him. Thorin chuckled as he pulled his head away.     "Nobody's-"     "Hey, dinner's ready," Kili called. I heard him prance up the hall as Thorin backed away. I grabbed my pole from the crook of my arm and walked towards the steps leading out of the garden. The end of the pole hit the bottom step and I jumped up the rest. I could hear Thorin following, almost silently behind. We walked towards the dining pavilion that Elrond had graciously given us to eat in. Apparently, the first dinner he had with the company ended in a food fight. Bombur had found a stash of meat in the kitchen and used that in his cooking, it was better then the vegetarian diet the elves were trying to eat off of. I sat at my spot on the table and listened to the conversation at hand. Dori was reprimanding Ori for bringing his slingshot to the table again, and smacking every other elf with an acorn, while Nori was applauding him. Bombur was munching away at something, while Bifur was mumbling something to Bofur, who was laughing every other sentence. Gloin and Oin were just eating, Balin and Dwalin talking about a book or something of that sort. Fili and Kili were talking about a recent prank on Lindir with Bilbo. I dug into my stew and listened.     "What do you think Myrin will do," Balin asked Dwalin quietly. I heard Dwalin grumble.     "Depends how Thorin will go about it," he breathed. "If he says it bluntly, she might strangle him. If he goes around it, maybe-" Thorin cleared his throat and everything went silent.     "We've discovered something in Thror's map," Thorin said at the head of the table. "We have to get to Erebor before Durin's Day if we are to enter the mountain, which means we have to leave before Friday, at the latest." Thorin paused for a while. "Because of this, and for everyone's safety, I have elected to leave Myrin behind." My stomach dropped and I choked on my stew. I pounded on my chest and something flew out. "I know a few of you might think-"     "That's it's idiotic," Kili yelled. "How many times has Myrin saved our sorry hides so far?"     "I understand Kili," Thorin assured. "But she's gone blind. We can't have her fall behind when an Orc pack raids the camp."     "Haven't I got a say in this," I shouted. Silence met me. "I'll take that as a yes. Sure, I've gone blind! I also can hear better then the rest of you. Give me two other good reasons I can't go, Thorin." Thorin huffed.     "Gladly," He growled. "We have to cross the mountains, and the path we have to take is narrower then your head at times. There are also Stone Giants up there." I snorted.     "They're a myth," I shouted.     "You could say the same about Lakita," Gloin said. As the conversation turned to a shouting match, Balin raised his voice above everything.     "Take a vote," He shouted. "All in favor of leaving Myrin behind for her safety, say Aye!" A few seconds past before Bilbo, Fili, Kili, Thorin, Bofur, Dori, Nori, Ori, and Balin shouted "Aye."     "Those in favor of me going," I shouted. Nobody raised their voice, much less breathe. I growled and stood up, snatching my pole from the table where it was leaned up. "Alrighty then," I said. "If anyone wants to say their goodbyes, I'll be in my room...."     "We aren't going to be leaving until Thursday," Balin reminded.     "Why wait," I asked. I grabbed my cup, which had a wonderful concoction of vegetables and fruits in it and sipped on it as I walked out. I stopped in the doorway, swirled my drink and turned around silently. I walked over to Thorin's chair, made sure he was in it still and dumped the contents of my cup down his shirt. Now, I was sipping something that had crushed ice in it, so imagine that down your back. And it didn't smell that good either. Thorin shouted and I couldn't help but smile. I trudged back to my room, only running into a pillar once.

I walked back into my room, a sappy smile on my face. Fili and Kili had thrown me a going away party, sort of, and I had the best time of my life. Bombur had broken the table he was sitting on, Thorin and Bilbo arrived fashionably late, and Gandalf even made an appearance, but he had to leave early on. The elves made it a point to stay away, as we made it a point to shout, and launch sticky rolls at someone who came near. And I mean sticky rolls. They clung to an elf maid's hair the other day, right next to the scalp, and she was wearing a head cap last I heard. It still didn't help that the company was leaving tomorrow, but the party did brighten my spirits. I leaned my pole up against the wall next to the door and shuffled over to my bed. I rubbed my head as I sat on the bed, glad that I was able to take a bath the other day. Someone knocked on my door.     "Come in," I said. The door creaked open and shut softly. I 'watched' the door and waited for someone to speak, but nothing did. "Can I help you," I asked, wondering if someone had just pranked me. Probably Nori if anyone did.     "There you are," Thorin said, walking over. "You want to take a stroll?" I cocked my head.     "Why do you want to," I asked. "You should be in bed, getting ready for an early morning." I stood up and walked over to the door.     "Like that's going to happen," He growled thoughtfully. He opened the door and wrapped his arm around mine. We walked out and down a hall, into a new part of Rivendell. The aroma of flowers in bloom flooded my nose, giving me a calm moment.     "Where are we at," I asked.     "Not entirely sure," Thorin admitted. "I found it when we arrived, figured you might want to see it for yourself. Or in this case, hear it." Thorin explained what the garden looked like, and what the flowers were. It seemed beautiful, and the way Thorin was describing it, and his enthusiasm about it, it must of been. That or he was stalling. Probably the latter.     "Why did you elect to leave me behind Thorin," I asked suddenly.     "Myrin, we've been over this-"     "That was when there were others around. Now that they aren't listening, tell me the real reason." Thorin was silent for a while.     "It was the right thing to do," He said at last.     "What about leave no dwarrow behind," I growled back.     "Leave no one behind only when they can continue," Thorin said gently. He touched my cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb. I had half a mind to bite it. "I don't want to leave you behind Myrin." That's when I did bite it. I thought Thorin might growl at me, or stomp away, but he just chuckled. A few more moments past, then Thorin walked up to me and grabbed my shoulders. "Will you do something for me," He asked. I snorted.     "I'm your confident, so I kinda have to do what you say," I reminded him.     "Forget about that."     "What?!"     "Forget about your job for a minuet," Thorin said again. "I'm asking the day-off, part of you." I cocked my head.     "Depends what that is," I said, absent minded.     "May I take your hand?" I rolled my eyes and lifted up my hand, palm hopefully towards him.     "You can't take it, but you can look at it- What are you doing," I asked as he messed with one of my fingers. He bent my finger down and slid something onto it, and it felt eerily familiar.     "Just giving you something," He said softly. "Try not to loose it please," He added after a moment's hesitation. I felt my hand, wondering what he gave me. It was a ring..... I felt it and discovered what it looked like. Two little dragons wrapped around my finger some sort of stone inbetween the two where their heads met. It was on my left hand too, but I wasn't sure if that was better or worse. I cleared my throat and lowered my hand.     "What's this for," I asked. I knew what it was, but I wanted him to say it, just to make sure. I heard him shuffle, and take a deep breath.     "Myrin, you are my Amralime," Thorin began slowly. "I can't live without seeing your smile every day, or hearing your beautiful laughter. I ask that you would marry me, and become my queen." Khuzdul tradition was in play now. I could either take the ring off my finger, throw it at him and reject him completely, or compose my own little speech about why I should marry him. But seeing as I wasn't completely dwarf, I was going to go off the path a little.     "Why should I marry you," I asked, sticking my chin out a little. I restrained the laughter bubbling in my throat as I waited for Thorin to respond.     "In truth, you probably shouldn't marry me," He said at last. "I mean, if you go by class, we're opposite ends of the ladder, and I know I have quite a temper, I'm pigheaded and I don't listen to anyone-" I frowned.     "Where are you going with this," I asked. "You just listed why I shouldn't..."     "I don't know where I'm going with this, but Balin said to follow my heart when-"     "YOU TOLD BALIN?!"     "No, I didn't!"     "Then how'd you get his advice?!"     "I told him when this was all over, I might ask some lass, and I needed some help!" I growled and held my forehead in my hands.     "You are an idiot, but I love you for that," I said with a chuckle. I pulled my head up and smiled.     "What," Thorin said. I burst out laughing. Yep, definitely an idiot.     "Of course I'll marry you," I shouted at him. Thorin breathed out, and laughed. He stood up, and embraced me in a death hug, kissing me on the way to my shoulder, where his head was resting. I wrapped my arms around his neck, happy tears falling down my face. I buried my face into his coat, the fur tickling my nose. Well, that little tickling made me sneeze. My head slammed down on his shoulder, and my nose broke with a loud snap. What a wonderful way to ruin a perfectly good moment! I pulled away from Thorin, my hands holding my nose, blood running into my mouth, as that was the only thing I could breath through.Thorin laughed and grabbed my face, turning it gently.     "Kinda need you to move you hands so I can see the damage," He said. I swallowed, grimaced and removed me hands from my nose. Thorin chuckled again.     "Bwaht," I asked. I opened my eyes. My breath caught in my throat, my mouth hung open. Even if I could breath through my nose, it would of hung open. Thorin looked at me, confusion written on his face. I grabbed his beard and pulled him to my lips. Sure it squished my nose, but I couldn't care at the moment. I could see again!!!!! Thorin pulled away and wiped his face/beard of blood.     "Ey cadd thea eggane," I shouted. I looked around, a bright smile on my face, as much as you could smile with your mouth open. The garden was even better then what Thorin described it as. It was around ten in the night, but despite that the garden was in full bloom with nocturnal flora. Evening Primroses were scattered everywhere in the flower beds, with Moon Flowers planted near. Night bloom lilies were in the pond just beyond where I was standing, a little stream trickling into it. A full moon was flooding the entire garden, making everything shine.     "Hold still," Thorin said, grabbing my face again. "It's almost like you want to break your nose again!" I rolled my eyes and held still so he could set my nose. Pain shot through my nose again as he set it, but it faded away. "What did you say," Thorin asked. I looked at him and realized how messy he looked. Hair ratted and tangled, and he honestly looked tired.     "Yew sure are bessy," I said, rubbing his hair. Then it dawned on me. "Ey cadd go wif! EY CADD GO WIF!!!" I flung my arms around Thorin's neck again and squeezed, getting him to wheeze. He poked my arm.     "AIR," He hacked.     "Dobby," I mumbled, letting go. Thorin took a deep breath. "Bwut Ey cad thea eggane...." Thorin looked up at me and I smiled.     "Did you just say you can see," Thorin asked, an even bigger smile on his face then mine. I nodded, flashing a bright toothy grin. He laughed and picked me up, spun me around, set me back down and embraced again. My turn to shout "AIR!"

    "Should we tell them," I asked Thorin on the way back to my room. The past few hours we had been exploring Rivendell, avoiding the elves that patrolled and windows. It was beyond definition, and any you would try to give would fall very short. It was around midnight now, and both of us were yawning now. That's why we were going to our separate rooms. Thorin squeezed my hand and looked at me.     "I don't think so," He said at last. "Dwalin would kill us for just dating each other, then Fili and Kili would kill us for not telling them-"     "Okay, I get it," I said, running my shoulder into his. "Don't tell anyone." We rounded the corner and came to my door. Thorin let go of my hand and smiled at me.     "Good night Myrin," He said with a wave of his arms and a deep bow. On his way back up he grabbed my hand and kissed it. He rose the rest of the way and I hugged him.     "Night Thorin." I let go of Thorin and walked into my room. I had four walls, like most rooms, but these walls were different. One had railing halfway up, the rest was like a window. That lead right to a garden, where Lakita was sleeping soundly under an old aspen. Half of the wall to the right of the window was a closet, the other half was a mirror. The last wall, besides the one that I entered through was where the four poster bed was, and that took up the entire corner. I walked over to the mirror and looked in. My hair was still in the simple braid I had put it in a few days ago. I had a white shirt on with baggy sleeves, my half vest over that was open. I had black leggings on, and boots, my boots were covering my feet. I guess when you can't see anything you don't really care much about how you look. That was going to change. I pulled my braid in front of me and undid it, setting the chain I used to tie it together to the side and taking a ribbon from the dresser in front of the mirror. I re did my braid and tied it with the ribbon. I washed my face of blood, thanks to the wash bowl on the dresser. After I dried my face, I was so out of it, I didn't even remember getting to the bed.

    Well, something woke me up, but I could figure out what it was. I peeled my sticky eyes open and squinted at the bright sunlight flooding my room. Lakita didn't have her head through the window, so it wasn't that. Someone knocked at my door again, that must of been what woke me up.     "What do you want," I growled, really not meaning to. I got out of the bed and waddled over to the dresser and started to pull out of the satchel I had shoved in there a few days ago.     "Ma'am, your companions are going to be leaving shortly," An elf said. "Would you like me to request that they wait?"     "How soon," I asked.     "Five minuets."     "YES!" I shoved all the clothes into the satchel I could and grabbed my swords from next to the door. I grabbed my bow from under the bed and quiver. I shouldered them and burst out the door, past the elf that was slowly walking down the hall. I knew where they were going to meet before they left, and that's where I was heading. It was the pavilion/bridge/entry hall to Rivendell, where the company apparently got a scare of their lives.     "Madame, please be careful, you might run into something," The elf called. Another was passing down the hall, coming towards me.     "Myrin, what happened to your face," He yelled. He stepped in front of me, so I took a step left, but he blocked it.     "Get out of my way," I shouted. I shoved through him and went back to running. That's when I ran, literally, into some tall dark haired elf with a silver circlet. We tumbled to the floor, elf and dwarf curses ringing through the halls. I scrambled off him and held my pounding head. First, my nose broke, then I run into this guy, and he just happened to smack my nose.     "Thanks mister elf," I growled at him.     "What are you doing running like that through the halls," Elrond ask. I think I liked it when I couldn't see him... I removed one of my hands and glared at him.     "Catching up with my company," I growled at him as I stood up. Elrond stood up and brushed himself off. He held out his arm, I glared a little more at him. "I can walk!"     "Ah, I see," He said. "Your vision has returned. Well... I can't say that I will miss your company, but I am sorry to see you go." I looked up at him, my glare gone.     "Why's that?" Elrond pressed his already thin lips into a line line.     "We shouldn't keep them waiting," He said, gesturing for me to take the lead. I rolled my eyes and lead the way into the pavilion thing. I had a feeling he knew something I didn't. The rest of the company was already there, and Lakita was apparently conversing with Thorin's pony. I sat on the rail of the stairs and slid down, bowling over Fili and Kili.     "What are you doing here," Kili asked. I pulled myself to my feet and helped him up.     "Going with, what else," I asked.     "Miss Flamebird has regained her eye sight," Elrond said, coming down the stairs normally. Tackle Time! Once everyone was done hugging, we mounted our steeds and rode out of Rivendell. On our way out, I noticed that Bilbo was looking back. I rode up next to him.     "Hey, everything okay," I asked. Bilbo shrugged.     "Elrond said I could stay if I wanted to," He said with a sigh.     "And you're having second thoughts?" Bilbo nodded. "Don't know if this helps, but I have been traveling like this all my life, most of the time without food or rain gear. Look at me, aren't I fine?" Bilbo looked at me and smirked.     "You aren't fine, you're senile," The hobbit said. "Not to mention a little....odd at times!"     "Hobbit, Myrin, will you quit lagging about," Thorin shouted from ahead of the path. Bilbo looked up at him, frowned and rode forward, casting a look at me the same second I stuck my tongue out at Thorin.

    We had been travelling for a few hours, and it was blissful. Fili and Kili were making fools of themselves again, Ori was scribbling something in his notebook, probably what ever the boys were doing. Dori was giving him encouragement, while Nori munched on some bread from the elves. Bombur was talking with Bifur about cooking, while Bofur was talking with the hobbit. Dwalin and Balin were in hushed conversation, Oin and Gloin reading herbal charts. Gloin looked around, forgetting the chart and smiled at Fili and Kili, a wistful look on his face. I knew that look all too well, he was going to start bragging about Gimli again, and I wasn't the only one that noticed it.     "I know Gloin has a wonderful family, but does anyone else," Bilbo shouted as Gloin took a deep breath to start his brag. All eyes shifted over to Bombur, who was getting red under the beard.     "I've a wonderful wife named Jezel, and we've had oh say, twelve dwarflings so far," He said proudly. "Five beautiful wee lasses, and seven strapping lads!" Bilbo nodded and looked around, frowning.     "Does anyone have a lady," Bilbo asked. "Or a man," He added quickly, looking at me.     "Oh aye, I've got plenty on my heels," Bofur said with a smirk.     "I do too," Fili said.     "Me three," Kili added, and that's when everyone burst out laughing. "What's so funny," Kili asked, sounding offended.     "There is no way that you've a lass under my watch," Thorin said, brushing a tear from his eye. "Either of you, even if you are the only ones out there for the picking!" More howls of laughter from the dwarrow.     "Well what about you and his secret lass," Bofur asked. Thorin shut up and looked at Bofur. "Had she grown tired of you when you left?"     "Oh no, she's anything but tired of me," Thorin chuckled. "I should think that she thinks more of me, since I've gone to reclaim Erebor." I lifted up an apple from my satchel and threw it at his head. It bounced into his lap.     "Or maybe she think's it was a hair brained idea to go," I corrected.     "YOU KNOW HER," Kili shrieked. I should think I would! I looked at Kili and smirked.     "Yep, I know her actually, we met while you three were heading for the Shire," I lied. On the outside, I was calm, just a little red from laughing so hard just a while ago, but on the inside was I a laughing stock, and it was bubbling over into my face.     "What's she like," Fili asked. I put my finger to my chin and tapped it, pretending to think.     "Well, she's very pretty, very skilled and I said pretty right?"     "Oh please," Thorin said. "She's not all that beautiful, but I rather like her character- STOP THROWING APPLES AT ME!" He picked up the second apple in his lap and threw it back at me.     "That lady is very beautiful, and I would think she would agree with me!" That did it for Thorin, he burst out laughing and slumped forward in his saddle, his voice ringing through the fields, maybe even past the Edge Of The Wild.     "Myrin, you seem to know all about Thorin's lady, but do you have a gentleman of your own," Gandalf asked, looking back. I pursed my lips and looked back towards the wizard.     "I should think that I do," I shouted at him. Fili and Kili went ballistic. "AND YOU ALL KNOW HIM, or maybe the wizard and hobbit won't, BUT THE REST OF YOU DO!" Everyone shut up, and the only thing I could hear was the wind in the bushes and sparse trees. The rest of the day, I had this dopey look on my face, and I would blow kisses to any of the dwarves, who would shudder and avoid me, but that wouldn't stop my air kisses.

#thorin/oc #Thorin Oakenshield #the hobbit #rivendale #bilbo #bilbo baggins #fili #kili #the company #elrond #gandalf #throinxoc #imladris #eladan #elohir #oh nooo #this is so sappy #and embarrassing #but its mine

[cloudyysworld]

Tolkien's characters death that I find most tragic:

1. Turin :his whole life is the definition of tragic ,my poor boy

2. Hurin :nooo he such a decent men but suffered the worst

3. Dior: such an underrated character, I refused to believe he was a man ,pls let him meet Nimloth and his son again in Mandos

4.Finduilas : another underrated character, I wonder if she and Celebrimbor were friend when they were in Nagothron

5. Kili and Fili

I just realized I feel bad more when mortal died ,because I knew elves will go to hall of mandos

#silmarillion #im not ready for children of hurin

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

The Halfling from the Mountain

So I was watching Mulan with my sister tonight, and when it got to the climax, I was like ‘this would be perfect as a BOTFA-fix it AU’. So of course, that’s exactly what I did. Please enjoy my small little Bagginshield drabble:

Thorin watched Azog stomp to the edge of the frozen waterfall staring down as the eagles swooped in to destroy his remaining forces. The disbelief swirling in his ice cold eyes was almost enough to make him smile. Almost. The sword wound straight through his foot hurt like nobody’s business, not to mention where Azog’s blade nearly slid through his midsection. If it wasn’t for Thorin’s clever little hobbit causing a distraction at the right moment, Thorin would be dead right now.

Even now, Bilbo hung around trying in vain to get Thorin back to his feet while they had the chance. Thorin wasn’t hopeful that even if he could get his feet under him that they could get away before Azog came back to finish what he started. At least his nephews were safe on the back of an eagle somewhere below. That was more hope than Thorin deserved.

Azog released a roar that gave both Thorin and Bilbo pause. He spun around with hate in his eyes before advancing towards Thorin. The dwarf pushed Bilbo behind him as he reached for Orcist once more. He barely had it in hand before Azog kicked it away to slide across the ice. Bilbo stepped away towards the pass, and Thorin couldn’t help the tension that slid from his shoulders even as Azog grabbed him roughly by his collar. Run away, little burglar. Go back to your books and armchair far from this desolate place of death.

“You took away my victory!” Azog snarled, pulling his blade back in preparation to lob Thorin’s head from his shoulders.

Thorin closed his eyes, sending one last prayer to Mahal to watch over his kin and company. Azog stalled, and when Thorin looked up at him, his eyes were cutting to a figure just to the side. Thorin’s heart seized as Bilbo’s voice spoke out firm and unyielding across the ice.

“No, I did.” 

Thorin found it so hard to be anything more than proud as he watched Bilbo’s chest puff out, his small sword drawn and ready. It quickly changed to horror when recognition colored Azog’s tone.

“The halfling from the mountains.”

Azog looked between Thorin and Bilbo as if trying to determine the worthier prize. Thorin didn’t know what kind of look he had on his face, but Azog’s face split into a demented sneer as he threw him back down on the ice. Bilbo, realizing he had his attention, finally started running away.

“NOOO!!!” Thorin cried out.

He couldn’t seem to get his feet under him though. Azog gave him a satisfied smirk knowing his enemy would probably still be there waiting for him before taking off after Bilbo.

***

In retrospect, Bilbo has had smarter ideas. His plan to get Fili and Kili out of Azog’s clutches...brilliant. Throwing a rock at the brute’s head to get his attention...definitely not his finest moment. However, there wasn’t much time to think of a better plan when Thorin was dangling there so helplessly. He finds his wits leave him quite often around Thorin.

Bilbo ducked around a corner right as a blade slammed into where his head used to be. Bilbo gave a frightened hop before quickening his steps. Mission accomplished he supposed. He got Azog away from Thorin. Now he just had to find a way to rid the world of his evil once and for all.

“You can’t run from me, Halfling!” He spat.

Wasn’t that just a shame. He needed to think, needed to think, needed to... There was some sort of outpost that Legolas stationed himself as he fired arrows down on the orcs still trying to pour into the battle below. If Bilbo could lead Azog up the stairs and across the bridge, he would be in the perfect position to be shot down. He would just need to signal the elf somehow. Bilbo looked down at his glowing blue blade. Yeah, that could probably work.

Bilbo slid on the stone at the change in direction as he turned and began to lead the pale orc into his trap. All he could focus on was his feet pounding against the walkway as he urged himself on faster even when he felt he his lungs were going to collapse. In fact, he couldn’t hear the sound of his pursuer anymore. He had just reached the bridge and turned his head to see if he could see Azog cresting the hill. His chest slammed into something solid, and he fell to the unforgiving ground. His head bounced against the brick and for a solid minute, Bilbo was seeing double. Then it turned into one grinning Azog.

Bilbo gasped as he tried to scoot away not sure exactly how the orc got in front of him. Azog let him scramble to his feet holding Sting rather unimpressively out in front of him.

“You can’t hope to defeat me, Halfling.” The white orc declared.

“No.” Bilbo agreed, seeming to catch him off-guard. “But he could.”

With that, Bilbo threw his blade as hard as he could towards the outpost. He never hoped to reach Legolas, but just high enough for the sun to glint off the blade catching the elf’s attention. His sights zeroed in on Azog, and the tall orc knew he was a sitting duck. Before he could try to scramble for cover, Bilbo threw himself at his legs.

The orc stumbled before glaring down at the hobbit, and with one massive kick sent Bilbo sailing over the side of the bridge. However, that small moment of pause was all Legolas needed for his arrow to fly true and pierce straight through the chest of the pale orc. Azog glanced down at the protrusion before collapsing, Legolas’ next arrow embedded in his skull.

Bilbo was stubbornly holding tight to the side of the bridge for all he was worth wishing there was an eagle around when he needed one. His feet kicked in the open air, searching in vain for a foothold as he grip on the rock began to weaken. His arms burned with exertion, and Bilbo closed his eyes just knowing he was about to be a bloody spat against the side of the mountain. Just when his fingers slipped, a hand reached out to grasp his forearm.

Bilbo looked up to see Thorin’s blood splattered and dirty face desperately staring back at him. Bilbo turned his hand to take Thorin’s arm just as strongly, and when the dwarf king was confident he had a hold of him, heaved Bilbo back onto solid ground.

***

Thorin couldn’t believe he caught up to Bilbo, just in time he found as he stared at the hobbit panting on his hands and knees. He could have lost him. He could have lost everything. Yet, Bilbo, brilliant, unbelievably loyal, Bilbo actually managed to save not only him and his kin, but defeat the pale orc as well. 

Thorin reached out to put a hand on his shoulder and grip it tight as if reassuring himself that it was real. They had won. Warm hazel eyes tipped up to meet his, and Bilbo let a relieved smile cross his face which Thorin mirrored. Thorin realized this was his chance to put into words all of his pleas for forgiveness as well as let Bilbo know just how much he meant to him.

“Bilbo.” He stated.

“Yes, Thorin?” Bilbo asked breathlessly.

“You...are a good burglar.”

Wait. What did he just say? What did he just say? Bilbo’s smile fell as his brows furrowed.

“Oh. Uh, thanks...I guess.”

Bilbo stood up and turned to look off into the horizon. Meanwhile, Thorin was mortified with himself. Maybe he should have just let Azog run him through and save him from the idiocy spewing from his mouth.

“I suppose we should see how everyone else fared?” Bilbo offered when he turned back around.

Thorin nodded not trusting his words anymore. His foot decided to forsake him completely now that the battle was over, and Thorin was forced to use the hobbit as a crutch as he limped down off the mountainside. He looked over at the smaller being fussing about the state of his injuries, and he couldn’t help the fond smile that formed. He promised himself then and there that he would not allow Bilbo to return home without knowing the full extent of his feelings.

Part 2

#bagginshield #thilbo #mulan au #botfa fix it #I stopped it too early #but Kili would definitely be asking Bilbo if he would like to stay forever

[id-rather-be-in-middle-earth]

Imagine starting a snowball fight with the Company

Just a quick thing. The original is on my Wattpad account. I reworded some of the story because the original was kind of cringey but I figured fix the small mistakes here. But if you wanna read the original version of this then check out my Wattpad. I’m going to add my stories from there to here to expand my stories so hopefully more people will read them. So hopefully you enjoy reading this.

https://www.wattpad.com/user/ElainaHart

Thorin x Modern!Reader

You were relaxing inside Beorns’ home, looking outside the window, watching the falling snow (A/N : I know it didn’t snow in the movie but pretend) you start to feel a bit mischievous. Growing up in your world, you never got to play in the snow, so when you saw it for the first time, you tried your hardest to contain your excitement.

You looked around the room trying to decide who your first victims would be, your eyes almost immediately landing on Fili and Kili. You walk outside seeing how no one’s really paying attention to you and make two large snowballs. As you’re about to walk inside, you get another idea. Quickly putting down the snowballs, you build various barricades, each one with a large pile of ‘ammo’. After being outside for a bit longer than an hour, you run back to the snowballs you made earlier and head inside.

Trying to act as casual as possible, you hide your hands behind your back and, not wanting to seem suspicious, clear your throat, “Hey, Fili, Kili. Could come help me with something?” you say with a small smile. They both turn to you and return the smile, “Of course. What do you need help with?” Fili asked. You took your hands from behind your back and before they had time to react, they both fall backwards due to the impact of snowball.

Everyone saw what happened and started laughing, even Dwalin and Thorin. You doubled over with your arms wrapped around your stomach, trying to catch your breath. The princes brushed the snow off themselves and look to you, both with amused faces. Kili stands, brushing off the last of the snow and says, “You’ve just declared war!” “I was hoping you’d say that.” you say giggling.

You dart out the door and run to a barricade to hide yourself before they followed you and grab two new snowballs. You could hear heavy footsteps making their way outside, hearing them laughing seemed like a good sign. “It’s two against one, lass! Hope you’re prepared for the doom you’ve brought upon yourself!” Looking over the barricade, you see them running to another and duck behind it.

You look to the house and see everyone else coming outside. You see Bofur, Bifur, Nori, Ori, and even Bilbo running to their own snow barricade. “IT’S EVERY MAN, uh, DWARF AND HOBBIT FOR THEMSELVES! LAST ONE STANDING WINS!” you yelled, ducking back down to cover yourself. As you, half the dwarves and Bilbo start running around, trying to hit each other out, you notice that some them starting to team up. Ori and Nori, Bifur and Bofur. So when you saw Bilbo by himself, you ran over to him, “Shhhh. It’s okay. Let’s team up.” He nodded and began fighting together.

Ori , Bifur, Bofur, and Kili were all out, so they went to sit on the back porch watching the war continue with everyone else who didn’t get involved. The fight started to get closer to the house and as you were hiding behind one of the barricades closest to the house, Nori threw a snowball, intending to hit you but he over estimated the shot and instead of hitting you, it would hit Thorin. Making a last minute decision, you quickly run over to Thorin and push him out  of the way, taking a rather large snowball right in the chest. You dramatically fall over, hand over chest, by Dwalin and Thorin’s feet. “Lass?!” Balin exclaimed, he was just about to stand and help you but Thorin beat him to it, kneeling next to you.

“T-Thorin? Is that you?” you say quietly, faking a weak voice. Thorin chuckled and decided to play along. “It’s me. I’m here, (Y/N).” You could see his eyes and hear in his voice that he was trying to hold back a laugh while also hearing light laughter coming from behind him. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” he continued. “Thorin.” you dramatically choked out. “Avenge ... me.” After that being said, you let a loud exhale and fell limp in his arms. “Nooo!” Thorin cried loudly. He laid your body down and formed a few snowballs of his own, handing some to Dwalin then turned to his company.

“Come on lads! We must avenge (Y/N).” With that, they yelled some dwarven battle-cry. Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin ran after Fili. Oin, Gloin, and Dori were running after Nori. And Bilbo came over to help me up while Bombur brought out some hot chocolate, a recipe the entire company was more than thankful for.

Everyone headed inside when the sun began to set to warm up after being in the cold for so long. Well, you went to warm up anyway. Curse dwarves for their thick and tough skin to endure these kind of conditions.

You began to drift to sleep while sitting by the fire with you mug of hot chocolate sitting on the ground, your hand laying limply next to it as if you were still holding it when you feel something heavy and warm lay gently on your shoulders. Confused, you look up to see Thorin looking down to you smiling. “May I?” he gestures to the open space next to you. “Of course. You don’t need to ask, though. You are the leader of our company after all.” you reply with a light sassy tone. He smiles and proceeds to sit down next to you, looking to the fire.

“You said before, when we first found you, that you of our journey. That you’ve seen these past events and those to come more than thousands of times. If I were to ask what was to happen when we leave. Would you tell?” Thorin asked. The question completely catching you off guard. You straighten yourself a bit, laughing lightly in an attempt to cover your nerves. “Uhh, heh, in all honesty, no.  I wouldn’t. I don’t want my knowledge to affect your decisions on which paths we take. And I don’t want to risk changing anything because then I won’t know what is to come.” you said honestly. You knew what was going to happen and as much as you didn’t like it, it needed to happen in order for this journey to continue smoothly.

Thorin looked to you for a moment and nodded understandingly before turning his attention back to the fire. “But this I can tell you.” you continued. He turns back to you with full attention, “I’ve already told all of you that we reach the mountain. But what I didn’t tell you is that getting to the mountain was going to be the easy part, it’s what happens after is what I’m afraid of.” you tell him staring into the fire, afraid to look at him. “When your journey ends is when mine will begin. Though I can’t tell you what happens after you reclaim the mountain yet, I will tell you that I intend to change it. It’s the only part of the story I’m planning to change. I don’t know if you fully believe that I’m from another world where all this,” I gestured all around us with my free hand “, is nothing more than words on a page. But I do need you to trust me, if not with your life then at least trust that I will tell you what you need to know in the time you need to know it.” I finished while staring in my lap.

Thorin reaches over for your hands that were in your lap and held them in his, “I do believe that you are from another world, you’ve proved that with what you said about Goblin-Town and our encounter with Azog along with Beorn. And I can only hope that you will tell what we need to know in the moment we need to know it. I also trust you with my life as I hope you trust me with yours.” Thorin says. You both sit there staring into each others eyes for a moment before he looks to the fire for a second then turning back to you, “How well do you know this world?” he asks with a half smile. “Not a lot but quite a bit. I know some dwarven and elven words if that’s what you’re implying but definitely not fluent in either language, other than that, just the monsters that roam this world but not much else.” you laughed nervously, sensing some mischievousness behind his words.

His smile widened at your words. Thorin stood, letting your hands go and leaned down, kissing your forehead. His lips lingering there for a few seconds before he pulled away and began walking to where he put his cot. After a few steps, he looked to you over his shoulder, “Good night, Armralime.” You turned your head to face him, your eyes wide with surprise and mouth slightly agape. “I-I-I don’t know what that means.” you stutter out, failing to play stupid to the word. He looks to you with an amused expression, “I think you do.” You close your mouth and smile softly to him, “Good night, my King.” you say half joking while you bowed with your torso to him. Thorin laughs lightly as he walks away. You turn your face back to the fire, you couldn’t see your face but you were 110% positive you were a blushing mess.

#thorin oakenshield #thorin x reader #thorinandthecompany #thehobbit #justsomethingstupid #wordvomit #bilbo baggins #fili #kili #dwalin #balin #ori #dori #nori #oin #gloin #bofur #bifur #bombur #thorin x modern reader

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

I've read the tag for that Fili and Kili picture and i tmade me smile because they look like "Nooo we wanna fight!!!!"

I know, they’re so determined to get out there and get killed, and I just want to tackle them and lock them in the dungeons until it’s all over to keep them safe. :)

[erebor-princess-blog]

Dragon secret

A/N:Hi there, I see you have found this. That’s good. Hope you will stay and read this story. It’s my first story and i hope you will like it. So what is about: You are dragon skinchanger and hiding it from company because you know they will hate you (Thorin most). But there ae sometimes signs of your dragon side for example: you got dragon eyes for a second when you are angry.

Warnings: angst myb idk 

Pairing:Nobody yet sorry,but reader is in love with Fili

[ Y/n]- your name

[Y/e/c]-your eye color

—————————————–

“Y/n,Y/n”-you heard a soft hobbit voice. You knew Bilbo came to wake you up. You must go on with your journey. Fili was already awake,in fact they were all awake. It’s so hard to awake you because of your dragon side. Company didn’t know that so they were wondering why is so hard to awake you. Only one who could was poor little hobbit,but that was what you didn’t know,you were thinking that just Bilbo cares about you. Anyway you got up and packed your things and got ready to go on. “Bilbo go scout!” - said the grumpy leader who hates you and it’s obvious, but if he knew your secret he will hate you more.You are skinchanger,why is that so bad? Because you are DRAGON skinchanger,and Thorin hates dragons because one dragon took his kingdom so you decided to keep that secret for yourself. While waiting Bilbo, Gandalf came to you and told you that he needs to talk with you. 

“Y/n i know your secret.I know that you are a skinchanger.”. You opened your mouth to say something. “And don’t try to deny it i’ve heard about you that’s why i called you. Because of your other side. Because of your dragon side.”

“Did you told somebody?”

“No,your secret is save with me.”

You were happy that is like that. After that little talk you returned to the company.”Where have you been?”-Fili asked.

“Just talking with Gandalf”

“About  what?”-you heard another voice. Kili. He was the one who knew your another big secret that was save with him like Gandalf saidwhen he told you that he know your another secret. Great your biggest secret was shared with two person and they said the same thing about it.He knew that you are in love wih his brother.You were  going to tell lie that you just made up,but Bilbo came. “How far is a pack”-Thorin asked. “Too close,about liege or two,but there is another problem-Bilbo answered. “What is it?They saw you?!”- Gandalf asked with worried voice. 

“No it’s not that.”

“What have i told you. Quite as a mouse,excellent burglar material.”

“Listen! Will you just listen! I’m trying to tell you that there is another creauture out there.”

“What form it had? Like a bear?” . God you hoped so ,because if it is, it’s Beorn undoubtedly,your old friend. 

“Y-y-yes but bigger much bigger”

THANKS GOD IT’S BEORN IT’S BEORN. While thinking about your old friend you didn’t hear what was company talking about. You were deep in your thoughts. “Y/n! Come on!”-you heard somebody. It was Kili. After 5 seconds you realized that you need to run,Kili was behind you and you were watching Fili’s shoulders who was in front of you. Running all day. Thought it was hard an exausting before you met company,but now you are running whole day without problem. Finnaly you have reached Beorn’s house. 

“Open the door! Quick!” 

Thorin came to the door and opened it. But it was too late or it seem to be too late. Beorn was at door already. Somehow they pushed him out and locked the door. “What is that”- Ori asked and you started laughing. Gandalf just looked at you and then he said:”That is our host”. It’s so beautiful to be here again after long time. All memories. Other skinchangers. Good times of happiness. Before Azog came. You wanted to burn him with, but it was too risky because you could burn your friends. So ou did nothing. Just waiting for him to kill you. But you escaped…..Somehow…. When you heard that Beorn survived you were happy but scared because he could be mad at you. “Y/n! Are you listening to me!”-after no answer Thorin said something to himself but you can hear it,because you are half dragon. He said:”Of course she is not listening to me. She is thinking about Fili again.”  That’s it. How could he? He promised!

“KILI!!!!” - you shouted angrly.

“Yes Y/n?”

“How could you! I trusted you! Who else knows?!” - controlling your tears was always hard for you,but controlling your anger was even harder.

“I don’t know what are you talking about.”

“You liar!” -your eyes turned into ones you had in your dragon form,that happens when you are angry but you could not feel or control it. 

“Y-Y-Y/n y-your e-eyes”-Kili said and you could see fear in his eyes. Other dwarves weren’t listening to you two becase it’s your thing but now everyone were staring at you,actually in your eyes.What now??? Telling the truth?’Nooo you saw it wrong’,that will be your answer to Kili,but it can’t be that 13 dwarves and hobbit all saw same thing wrong. Closing your eyes was the only solution.When you opened them they were y/e/c again. 

“What was that?”- Bilbo said starring at you in fear.

“Y/n are you going to tell them?”- Gandalf asks.

“Well…. Umm… You see…… I….. We….. Gandalf and i..”-then you got an idea.

“We were doing magic trick and it seem that it works.”-you continued looking at Gandalf.”Okay so i’m really tired so i’m going to.”- you continued going to place you were supposed to sleep near one black sheep.

While you were sleeping

“Gandalf! Y/n is lying i can see that in her eyes!”- Thorin said looking at the grey wizard. “What was with her eyes? They were dragon looking!”

“Dragon!? Don’t be silly,you got it wrong. Anyway why was Y/n mad? Do you asked Kili?”-Gandalf said changing subject.

“No I didn’t ,i don’t care anyway but i think it was because of what i said, i said it so quiet so only i could hear it or so i thought.

“Go sleep now,you need to rest Thorin” 

When Gandalf left him he was thinking about what happened for about hour ago. It can’t be a spell, he knew that Y/n was hidding something from him and whole company. But why? Because of Fili? What was so terrible that she was hidding from everybody?

Next morning

 You woke up and heard your old friend Beorn talking with dwarves.

“So you are the one they call Oakenshield?”- Beorn asked Thorin while filling Fili’s cup with milk. You smiled at Fili because you don’t know why but he was so cute drinking from that big cup. Grin played on your lips and Fili looked in your directiom with his beautiful blue eyes. What he thinks about you now? Does he hates you even more? 

“Tell me. Why is Azog the defiler hunting you?”-Beorn countinued.

“You know for Azog? How?”

Beorn started talking about Azog. Last that he says was “Now there is just one”. You heard saddnes in his voice.He was talking about you too. He mentioned you as his good friend who died and he said that he will never forgive himself for  that. Then you decided to show up.

“Actually i think that Dragon-girl survived,well,I’m pretty sure that she did.”-you said walking to join company. Beorn was in shock. He couldn’t speak.

“Y/n how do you know that?”- Fili asks.

“Because… You see Fili… That’s because….”

“She is the dragon-girl”-Beorn continued. How will they react? Silence…The worst scenes played in your head. Thorin picked up his sword and he was walking in your directon.

—————————————————– 

That’s it for Pt.1 i hope u like it. I will make Pt.2 soon

#fili #thorin #skinchanger #hobbit #beorn #dragon #company #lord of the rings #gandalf #bilbo #kili #desolation of smaug #fili imagine #fili imagines #fili x reader

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @marigoldvance based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, Teen, from her TGGBO AU

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3. :)

Christmas Special

---

Fíli had talents. He had all kinds of talents. He was a talented bloke with talents.

            “…Oooooh.”

None of which extended to baking. Or dancing. Or, apparently, any sort of festive shit.

Bollocks.

Nori continued his severely poor attempt at a smile as he regarding the monstrosity Fíli had somehow managed to construct out of cake and what was supposed to be – but had in no way turned out to be – fondant. Nori’s expression strained further until it finally came into its own as a full-blown cringe.

In the corner, his feet perched on a footstool, both under frozen packets of peas, Ori wore a similar look, only he made less of an attempt to disguise it as anything other than what it was. Trust Ori to be honest, even in the worst of times, no matter how polite the man was. Truth was truth, after all. And the truth, right now, was that Fíli was a miserable baker and should never attempt to bake anything ever again. Ever.

            “What…” Nori started, stopped, tilted his head and squinted, “What is it supposed to be?”

Fíli groaned and dropped his head into his hands. He was sat on the other side of the island, surrounded by used mixing bowls and a mess of powders and sugar and spices. Batter was clumped in his hair and his once black t-shirt was now white with flour.

            “It sort of looks like a pig.” Ori commented from his place at the kitchen table, steaming cuppa cradled in his hands. He nibbled his lip and then added thoughtfully, “Or a goose, I suppose, you know. Because of the feathers.”

            “They aren’t feathers.” Fíli said pitifully. “They’re trees.”

            “Oh.” Nori’s eyes widened and he shared a look with his cousin, “Wow… No.”

Fíli whimpered, “Yes.”

            “Nooo.” Ori said, shaking his head.

Fíli dropped his hands and sighed to the ceiling. “What’m I going to do? I can’t dance,” He gestured toward Ori who’d made the valiant commitment to teach Fíli some very basic steps to a waltz, had been injured by Fíli’s two left feet.

Ori stared into the middle distance, said to himself, “I have no idea how you stomped on both my feet. At the same time.”

            “And I clearly haven’t got any hope baking.”

Nori swiped a finger through the icing that fluffed the cake’s lower half, stuck it in his mouth and winced.

            “This is a crime,” He wheezed, wiping his tongue on a tea towel, “This should be a crime. You should be in jail.”

            “Har har,” Fíli deadpanned. “Seriously, mates, what am I gonna do? I can’t give this to Kíli!”

            “Oh heavens, no. Kíli can never know about this.” Ori agreed, gaze following Nori as Nori poured himself a glass of juice to wash down the foul taste in his mouth.

            “And I have no idea what he expects me to do at this thing—”

            “It’s just a party, Fíli, you’ll be fine. Just…try not to crush his toes. Dance at a distance.” Ori suggested sympathetically, “Perhaps the other side of the room?”

Fíli dropped his head forward onto his arms and moaned as if he felt Ori’s pain.

At the fridge, Nori burped, “Oh god, I can still taste it.”

-

The whole ordeal began when Kíli had invited Fíli to a holiday party, hosted by the network that produced The Great British Bake Off. Fíli had already been invited, being employed by the company, but had been sent to the moon when Kíli had asked. It would be the first time they’d be seen together, as a couple, by other former (favoured) contestants and members of the crew.

He’d been beyond excited and had wanted to do something special for Kíli in the lead up to the party. Knowing that a significant portion of the night was dedicated to dancing, Fíli had asked Ori, a professional ballroom dancer who’d competed on the circuit, to help him learn at least a couple of easy dances so he wouldn’t look like an idiot on the dance floor. Fíli had never been very coordinated, had no sense of rhythm whatsoever outside of the bedroom – had caused a few bloody noses in clubs and raves in his youth – and had been keen to do better for Kíli – who loved dancing and had a sense of rhythm and could move his hips in ways that would never cease to make Fíli see God.

Unfortunately, Fíli’s talents didn’t lie in the arts, it seemed, because the cake that was supposed to be pistachio cream tasted like sweaty feet, and the dance moves he’d learned had caused Ori’s feet to swell to twice their normal size…

Needless to say, he was doomed…

-

            “Why do you look so nervous?” Kíli asked, peering at Fíli from the corner of his eye. They were at a table with some of Fíli’s workmates, most of them already on the dance floor, impressing their dates with their incredible skills, when Kíli leaned over to whisper his question.

Supper had long since ended, the plates cleared so only wine and cocktail glasses remained in abundance, and the music was loud and fun and mocking. Fíli sulked, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waited for Kíli to leave him alone at the table to seek out someone who wouldn’t accidentally murder him with a misplaced knee or elbow.

            “I’m not nervous.” Fíli said, voice cracking on every other syllable. Fantastic. He was really winning tonight.

Kíli turned in his seat to face Fíli, frowning in confusion, “You certainly sound nervous.”

            “Not nervous.” Fíli repeated, coughed into his fist and looked anywhere but at his boyfriend of very few months who was so far out of Fíli’s league, Fíli was shocked Kíli had ever agreed to go out with him. Oh God, tonight was the night Kíli was going to realize that fact and he was going to waltz away with someone like their producer, Aragorn, who played the bloody guitar and sang like a gravelly angel and, yeah, okay, was married but it was Fíli’s nightmare, so let him have it…

            “You’re spiraling.” Kíli said, concerned.

            “No, I’m not.” Fíli insisted.

Kíli glared, “I can tell, you know. You’re eyes do this—” He waved his finger back and forth quickly to mimic what Fíli’s eyes apparently did, “Flickery thing. It looks intense.”

            “It is intense.” Fíli admitted, inadvertently giving away that Kíli was right and he was nervous as hell.

            “What’s going on?” Kíli asked, placing a large, warm hand on Fíli’s knee, encouraging Fíli to look at him.

The instant Fíli did, he deflated. “I can’t dance.” He said miserably, like a little kid confessing their playground sins to their parents.

            “What are you talking about?”

Fíli sucked in a large breath and pivoted in his chair, interlocking their legs, curling the tips of his dress shoes around the back of one of Kíli’s heels. Kíli leaned forward, one hand still on Fíli’s knee, the other balled into the fabric of Fíli’s shirt at Fíli’s waist, his head cocked like a spaniel, ready to listen.

            “I can’t dance, Kee, never’ve been able to. I avoided school dances like the plague, I’m pretty sure I’m still banned from several clubs, and I think I about destroyed Ori’s career.”

            “What the hell did you do to Ori?” Kíli balked, but his question went unnoticed as Fíli ploughed on.

            “And I know you love to dance, are so stupidly good at it,” Fíli brought both hands up to cup Kíli’s jaw, gaze imploring as he continued, “And I can’t even one-two-step without killing someone. I just. I want you to have fun and I want to have fun with you but—”

            “Fee,” Kíli said, slapping a hand over Fíli’s mouth to stop the outpour of words, “You can dance, you twat.”

Fíli harrumphed in denial behind Kíli’s palm.

            “Shut it.” Kíli warned, and then, “You can. We dance together all the time! In the living room, in the kitchen, you’re always coming up behind me when I’m hoovering.”

Fíli tore Kíli’s hand away, said flatly, “That’s not dancing, Kee, that’s just me being horny.”

Kíli chuckled and stood, held his breath-damp hand out for Fíli to take.

            “Well,” He smiled, “Guess I’ll just have to turn you on to prove my point.”

Fíli stared at Kíli skeptically but took the offered hand and allowed Kíli to lead him to the dance floor.

-

Alright, so, Kíli was right. Fíli wasn’t terrible when his mind wasn’t on dancing so much as how he could get his body (read: his cock) closer to (read: into) Kíli’s (sweet, bouncy, little arse). There’d only been one misshap that evening that thankfully hadn’t involved permanent injury, unless one counted the coat-room clerk’s years of therapy following his discovery of Fíli and Kíli amongst the coats in a compromising – though unquestionably impressive – position.

The baking, however… yeah, that was binned forever and Kíli would never, ever know what had occurred in Fíli’s kitchen, the cousins sworn to secrecy.

#Gathering 12 Days 2021 #Fili/Kili #FiKi #Durincest #the Hobbit