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ruthoakenshield · 3 years

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Thorin, Fili, Emma and the Unusual Arrangement - Part 1

This tale is for 18+ readers only.

If smut, angst, fluff, backdoor entry, oral (m&f recieving), and threesome offend you, do NOT read below the cut!!!

In this Alternate Universe Hobbit tale, Thorin and Company find an injured Dwarrowdam in the wild who is alone. They take her into the company and heal her, insisting that she stay with them so she stays safe. During the quest, Thorin, Fili and the Dwarrowdam find themselves in an unusual arrangement out of necessity and by the will of the Dwarven god, Mahal. What is the unusual arrangement? Will the arrangement work out? Will the line of Durin survive the Quest and reclaim Erebor?

(I do not claim ownership of any of Tolkien’s characters, languages or places, nor do I claim ownership of Tauriel’s character. )

You had been traveling with the Dwarves of Erebor for three months now. With them 24/7. You learned their habits, their nervous ticks, and their different personalities. You were finally accepted by them despite being a Dwarrowdam. They were incredibly protective of you, especially when you all entered towns or villages or encountered other races. They would push you to the center of the cluster.

Each night while on the road, they made sure you stayed warm. You were allowed to do what you liked, and at night, if you got cold, you were welcomed by any of the Dwarves to cuddle and keep warm. None of them ever taking advantage of you or touching you inappropriately. They would each take turns letting you cuddle and share body heat with them each night. You often woke to them curled around you, spooning you, their morning wood against your back. They never said anything about it as if it happened all the time and wasn’t because of your body being there. You always pretended to be asleep and waited till they got up and moved away before ‘waking’ and getting up for the day. Whenever you had to stay overnight in a tavern, you were told you’d stay with Thorin though. It was the one thing you were not given a choice on.

This was unnerving for you and Thorin knew it, but he refused to leave you in a room by yourself where they couldn’t protect you. The two of you would share a bed during those times, but he always insisted you sleep under the sheets and he on top. He slept on the side closest to the door with either his back to you or he lay on his back and would tell you that you were welcome to cuddle against him should you get cold. But inevitably, you would wake up in the morning to him spooning you, his member hard against your back and you tucked safely in his strong arms, your head nestled under his chin like he did when it was his turn to keep you warm on the road.

He never acknowledged it at first. Just like the other Dwarrow, and always quietly got up, and pulled on his boots, outer tunic, gear and his fur lined vest and slipped out of the room to get things ready for the day, leaving you to get ready on your own. Dwalin or Kili & Fili were always outside your door when you opened it to leave, making sure no one assaulted you while their King was not in your presence.

You began to notice, as you traveled with the Company that Fili seemed drawn to you more so than Kili, and Fili would often be the first one to greet you in the mornings with a cup of your favourite tea, regardless if you were on the road or in a town or village. Thorin too seemed to be drawn to you more after the first night he kept you warm on the road, taking more of an interest in you, making sure you were warm enough at night, and talking with you as you traveled, or training you with your sword.

He knew of your hidden arsenal from when they found you injured on the road, but had apparently forgotten about it, as the other Dwarrow had also seemed to have forgotten about it since your outer clothing provided a cushion that it couldn’t be felt through them, except for your sword strapped to your back all the time and the hand axes at your waist. You hadn’t needed to use the other weapons you had hidden on you since that attack and you supposed that since you never take them or your clothing off, and never have needed to use them, the Dwarves must’ve forgotten you had them.

The first time you entered the village with the Dwarves, though, you were forced to share a room with Thorin and suddenly sharing a sleeping area with him seemed so much more…. Well… intimate, then when you shared a sleeping cot and blanket on the road. Suddenly you felt uncomfortable and didn’t know what to do.

------flashback------------

“Why do you not undress for the night?” he had asked you. “I always sleep in this, Thorin. Have you ever not seen me sleep in this?” you indicate your clothing and sword sheathed to your back, your hand axes at your sides.

He chuckles, “No, Lass, the only thing you ever seem to remove is your boots.” He replies. “Why do you sleep like this?” he asks sitting down to pull off his own heavy, steel toed boots, then stands and begins to undress down to his night shirt and night pants.

You blush and look down at your feet as he does so. “Before I met up with you, I had no other protection. I learned quickly to keep my weapons on me at all times, even while I slept.” You explain, as you sit on the edge of the bed.

“Isn’t that terribly uncomfortable?” he asks, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and a frown.

You giggle, “I got used to it. I had gotten to be a light sleeper and have caught several goblins and curious trash pandas trying to pull my sword from my back, or my axes from my hips.”

“The goblins never survive that attempt, the curious trash pandas, I just scare, and they run away.” You chuckle.

“Well, humor me and for one night, remove your weapons and sleep restfully and comfortably. I will not take advantage of you; you have my word.” He says.

You sigh, knowing he will not relent until you do. You unstrap your sword and lean it against the side of the nightstand. You peel off your boots, lined with your throwing knives. Then you remove your outer clothing, being careful of the patches, working the flaps from the under clothing out carefully from the openings in your over clothes.

Thorin had noticed the first time they found you that your clothes seemed to have been patched in quite a few places and wondered why you wore clothes so tattered. Then Oin opened your blouse to check and treat the wound to your arm and side, and they saw the harnesses strapped to your body. Only he, Balin and Oin saw them though, Oin had made everyone else go find other tasks to do. Thorin had forgotten about the harnesses you wore under your clothing. He never felt them when you slept beside him.

His eyes opened in surprise, when you began to flip the patches up on your legs, and you began to pull out your arsenal of knives, daggers, and all manner of throwing weapons. He didn’t realize you wore them there as well! You worked your way up both legs, pulling the weapons out of the hidden sheaths strapped to your skin under your clothes, assessable only from the hidden openings through your clothing.

He began to blush when you pulled a beautiful jewelled dagger from the center of your back at the waistline, and then a curved, small dagger from sheaths under each of your breasts, and daggers out from your upper arms and forearms, under your sleeves. It took you a full 5 minutes to completely disarm, as far as he could tell.

“How many weapons do you have on you, Lass?” he asked, chuckling as he watched you with fascination. “Enough.” You reply with a smirk.

“You have more weapons hidden on you than even Fili does!” he exclaimed when he looked at the pile on the nightstand and floor. “No wonder why you do not remove them when you go to bed!” he chuckles.

“Is that all?” he asks once you appear to have finished. He wondered what you’d look like without the clothing on. He wondered how many sheaths you had strapped to you and what kind of harnesses you used to keep them all in place.

You grin. “That’s all you will be finding out about any time soon.” You quip. Earning a raised eyebrow from him. You just grin and lie down facing the wall.

“Emma.” Thorin says. You turn, “Yes, Thorin?” “Get under the covers. I will lay next to you on top of them.” He tells you.

You nod and pull them down under you and then climb under them. Pulling the bedding over the top of your frame, you face the wall once again, and he climbs in next to you. You hear him blow out the candle and the room is engulfed in darkness with only the moonlight coming in through the window’s cracked shutters.

You feel Thorin turn onto his side and he tells you “Good night, Emma.” Which you return to him with a “Good night, my King.” Making him smile.

You laid there for quite a while, listening to his breathing until it evened out and you knew he slept. You sighed. Never had you ever slept with a male alone in a bed like this, and though you trusted him, you were not comfortable with sleeping right next to him in a bed, but you had no choice.

You lay there trying to remember the things your Mother taught you about males on your ‘coming of age’ day, and all she taught you about joining with them. You were not about to reveal to him where your Mother had trained you to hide one last weapon as a last resort against an attack on your honor.

The dagger, your last resort, was a special Dwarrowdam’s design she helped you craft specifically to fit inside you and taught you how to behave to retrieve it should you be stripped of your clothing and need one last resort. She trained you how to contract your muscles to hold it and it’s sheath in place so it would never fall out. It took you months of practice, but you don’t even bother to think about it now except in times like this. It stays put regardless, if you are swimming, riding ponies, walking, running or fighting.

All Dwarrow women are trained for this and no unmarried Dwarf knows of this. Husbands are sworn to secrecy about it with a blood oath and are cursed if they ever mention it to anyone. As far as you knew, none of the living lineage of Durin knew about this except Dis, since she was a woman, and Dain, since he was the only one married, and neither were with you here.

No one knows that weapon was there inside you except you. Your Amad told you never to reveal it unless you were attacked by someone intending to rape you and you had lost all other weapons. The only other time you were allowed to reveal it was to your future Husband on your wedding night, before he takes you to be One with him.

You began to think about the Adulthood ceremonies for the men. You had heard some young Dwarrow boasting about what they had learned and how they learned it when you still lived in Erebor before Smaug had attacked. You assume Thorin had his Adulthood ceremony where he was trained to please a woman by his Father. You wondered if Kili and Fili and Ori had had that training yet. Probably not. You wondered what Thorin will do when that time comes. How will he instruct his Nephews? You knew it was usually a specially chosen Dwarrowdam of the person teaching the young man who was the one they practiced on. But how could ANY of the Dwarves in the Company instruct the boys? The only ones who were married were Gloin and Bombur and their Dams were not here, and there were no other women traveling with the Company except you!

Then you realized you were the ONLY Dwarrowdam traveling with the Company and that you might be called upon to be the one to allow the Dwarf teaching the youngsters what to do with a woman! You shot up in bed in a cold sweat, startling Thorin. He sits up quickly looking around for an enemy. When he sees none, he looks at you puzzled.

“Emma, are you all right?” he asks quietly.

“I-I I’m sorry, Thorin. I did not mean to startle you awake. I just… I’m sorry.” You say and put your head in your hands and cry silently.

He frowns. “What is it, Emma?” he asks gently, as he rubs your shoulder, feeling the straps from your harnesses under the threadbare shirt.

“I-it’s just, it’s just…” you trail off, ashamed. “What is it, Emma?” he says gently as he takes your face in his hand and turns it to his, wiping your tears with his thumb. You see the concern on his face as the moonlight shines on him.

“I’ve never slept next to a male in a bed, alone, this close before, not like this. It was always cuddling to keep warm on the road with your company and we were all in one big group together. I was just thinking about what all my Amad had taught me at my ‘coming-of-age’ ceremony, and I realized Kili, Fili and Ori, must be close to that age where they are considered an adult and are taught such things. I guess I just realized I’m the only Dwarrowdam traveling with you all and…well… I guess I freaked out a little.” You explain quietly, red faced and horribly embarrassed.

Thorin chuckles softly. “Lass, do not worry about such things. Yes, you may be asked, but we would not force you be a part of that if you were not willing. We would find another way to teach them what they would need to know.” He tells you.

“Come now, Sweetheart, lie down and try to get some sleep. No one will dishonor you on this trip by forcing you to be intimate. What you do with your body we leave up to you. If you decide to share yourself with those in my company, no one will frown upon it. You have been an honorable Dwarrowdam, and all of my men respect you and will not force you to do anything you do not wish to do.” He tells you as he gently moves you to lie down again, this time on your back.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, to lay next to me, I will move to sleep on the floor.” He tells you as you look up at him. “Oh! No, Thorin! I don’t want you to sleep on the floor! You’re my King! I should be the one to sleep on the floor!” you say wide eyed.

Thorin chuckles. “I would not have it said that the King made the only Dwarrowdam in the company sleep on the floor so he could have the comfortable bed. How about we compromise and share the bed? Would you allow that?” he asks as he sweeps a strand of hair from your eyes.

You stare up at his handsome face and his deep blue eyes that are studying your face, patiently waiting for your answer.

“Very well, my King.” You say quietly, lowering your gaze to his chest and night shirt that is untied and revealing his dark chest hair. You wonder what it feels like. Is it coarse or soft?

He smiles at you kindly. “I will not touch you inappropriately unless you wish it.” He tells you. Then lies down on his back, puts his hands behind his head and closes his eyes. “You are welcome to cuddle against me should you get cold.” He tells you without opening his eyes.

You lay there next to him and think about all he told you. His earthy, and musky scent surrounding you as you lie there. You realize it is a comforting scent and it calms your nerves now. You notice the room is getting colder now that the night has progressed. You can tell Thorin is still awake. “Thorin? Aren’t you cold without any blankets on you?” you ask.

“I will be fine, Sweetheart.” He tells you. You shiver and pull the blankets up around you. A half-hour later you are still cold. You turn on your side, facing away from Thorin and scootch up to his warm side. You feel him chuckle and he turns onto his side to face you. His chest against your back.

“Here, let me keep you warm.” He whispers and wraps his arm over your side and holds your hand. The two of you fall asleep with your King spooning you, and you wake to Thorin letting go of your hand and moving to sit up. You felt his hard on just before he moved away from you and you bit your lip realizing again just how big he was when hard.

You wondered how any Dwarrowdam could take that size into them. Your Mother never explained that. You realize that most of the Dwarves who kept you warm would wake up with hard ons and they all felt large like that. Are all Dwarves large like this or is it just these Dwarrow? You wonder. Regardless, you are grateful they never took advantage of you and treated you with honor.

Thorin pulled you out of your thoughts. “I’ll leave you to get ready, Emma. Hurry, though, we need to be leaving as soon as possible. We’ll have breakfast here then head out.”

You roll over onto your other side and see he is dressed and pulling on his boots. You climb out of bed and sit on the edge. When he stands, you say, “Thorin?”

He stops and looks over to you sitting on the edge of the bed looking at your feet. He comes over and kneels down in front of you. “Yes, Emma?” he asks.

“Thank you. For understanding about my fears, and treating me with honor. Many would not have.” You tell him, unwilling to look him in the face.

He caresses your face. “You are a treasure to our Company, Sweetheart. Your honor is safe as long as you stay with us. I will make sure someone guards the door now, when I leave. So you can re-arm yourself and change clothing if you wish without worry. No one will come in on you dressing. When you are ready, come out and join us downstairs.” He tells you and gives you a kiss on your head. “Hurry now.” he tells you and grabs his travel pack, weapons, and heads for the door.

Once it is closed, you hear him call for Dwalin, and you assume he has Dwalin guard the door for you.

You change into clean clothing and re-load your weapons into their proper holsters and harnesses. You sigh, realizing it was nice to be able to remove them for once and sleep with only the one inside you. Once you’re ready, you head out and open the door. Dwalin is standing right there and moves to the side once he hears the bolt slide and you open the door.

He looks at you and gives you a kind grin. “Sleep well, Lass?” he asks. You shrug. I’m not used to sleeping in a bed any longer. It took me a while to finally fall asleep.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Don’t worry, Thorin was perfectly honorable and left me alone. We just talked till I was finally able to fall asleep.” You tell him.

He chuckles and pats your shoulder. “Very well, then, Lass. Ready for some breakfast?” he asks.

You nod and he follows you down the hall and down the stairs. You join the Company for breakfast then everyone heads out.

-----back to present time-----------

The Company often stopped near water sources when they could find them on the road. You were always invited to join them for a swim, but always declined and waited till they had finished. Then once all of them were settled for the evening, you would grab your bag from your travel pack and would head to the water source to bathe.

Whenever you did, you always felt a pair of eyes on you, though you could never see who they belonged to or where they were. They never showed themself to you.

You were careful to keep your back to the wooded area. You let your hair down out of the braids first and your long, dark hair always covered your body, so arms and legs and glimpses of your ass were all they saw. Your hair went down to just below your butt cheeks. It was long, sleek and jet black, though you had noticed some strands of silver starting to appear at your hairline around your face. You knew your age was somewhere between Fili’s 80’s and Thorin’s,190’s but that was not much for Dwarves.

You carefully unbuttoned your blouse and slid it off. You set it at your feet and then began to remove your many harnesses. Your best friend helped you design the harnesses for your journey to the iron hills with the caravans and was insistent on you having as many weapons to defend yourself as she could fit on you within reason. When you got separated from the caravan during an orc attack and just decided to wander on your own for a while before meeting up with the company, you were glad you had the means to defend yourself.

You knew you were littered in bruises from sleeping on the weapons and battling goblins and orcs and wargs. You had a few scars from them too. Luckily, they healed without infection thanks to Oin.

You felt the eyes on you as you slid off the harnesses and weapons from your arms and then your chest. You began to unlace your pants and kicked off your heavy boots, bending to set them next to your pack and pile of harnesses. You slid off your pants carefully, so you didn’t catch the multiple openings on the handles of your weapons. You shivered as the cool air hit you when a breeze came up.

You placed the pants next to your dirty shirt. Then you began to unbuckle all the harnesses from your legs. Leaving the one from around your waist that held the dagger at your tailbone for now.

You grabbed your soap and the dirty clothing and went to the water’s edge next to a large, bumpy rock. Taking your dagger from your waist band with, you jammed it into the sand by your knees.

Quickly you washed your pants and your blouse then draped them over a nearby bush to dry somewhat. Then you placed the dagger back in its sheath, removed the harness from your waist and left it on the bumpy stone by the water so you could grab it if you needed.

Wading out slowly into the cold water, you could feel your breasts and nipples tighten. You hated bathing at night, but it was the only way to be certain the entire company of Dwarves would not see you naked, though you suspected at least one was spying on you. You knew Thorin would never leave you unattended, not even to bathe.

You ducked under the water once it hit your waist, swam out a little further and then came up to wash your hair. You lathered the soap and got your har all sudsy and rinsed it out as you swam around under the water. Once it felt completely rinsed, you moved to the shallows and washed your upper body, then sat down on a rock at the shoreline and washed your legs and feet.

You ducked behind a large boulder at the water’s edge to remove the weapon from yourself and wash your privates and the sheath. Once it was all clean, you reinserted the sheath containing the dagger carefully back inside your tight cave and adjusted it till it sat properly, then you swam back out into the water and just relaxed for a while, leaving the bar of soap on the stone by your dagger.

----------

Thorin watched as you took down your hair and he marveled at it’s beauty and length. His breath caught as you dropped the blouse from your frame and he saw for the first time, all the bruises as well as the harnesses you had on you.

Seeing your arms and legs and torso all caged with leather straps and sheaths for your arsenal of weapons turned him on. He was impressed at the ease of getting them off and how it seemed to be a well thought out system. But it bothered him seeing the sheer number of bruises you had from those weapons pressing against you as you slept and fought.

He tried not to gasp when he saw your naked form kneeling at the water’s edge washing your clothes. A glint of something between your thighs caught his eye as you leaned forward to rinse the shirt you had washed. “What could you have there, that would glint like that?” He wondered. He knew some Dwarrow pierced themselves and wore jewelry all over their bodies to increase pleasures when it was shared with a Dwarrow, but this didn’t seem to be a piercing. He was curious now.

He watched as you waded into the water and swam out, washed your long, luxurious hair and then moved closer to bathe your body. “Mahal!” slipped from his lips in a quiet whisper when he saw your naked form from the front briefly. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He was hard instantly and wanted you desperately. But he had promised you none would lay a hand on you to shame you. That it would be left up to you if you chose to share yourself with anyone.

He quietly stroked himself as he watched you dry off and marveled at how easily you put the complicated looking harnesses back on. He came quietly when he saw you bend and pull a clean pair of patched pants out of the bag and began to work them up your legs. He let out a quiet moan at the sight of your round ass facing him with the glittering object between your thighs catching the light of the moon.

You pause for a moment, listening and he bites his lip hoping you didn’t hear his moan. You continue to dress, and he quietly cleans himself off, tucks himself into his trousers and laces them back up, then moves away and circles the camp once he is certain you are dressed enough to defend yourself should you be attacked.

Thorin makes it back to camp from the opposite direction of the lake, carrying firewood he picked up along the way. He drops the pile by the cooking fire and then goes to sit where he left his pack.

“Where’d you go, Uncle?” Kili asked.

“To scout around and make sure there were no goblins or orcs or any such unsavory things nearby. And I collected firewood as I did so.” He tells his Nephew as he lights his pipe.

Dwalin just raises an eyebrow and looks at Thorin, not believing him for a moment. Dwalin decides not to say anything though. “Where’s Fili?” he asks instead.

Kili sighs, “He went to look for firewood too.” He’ll be back soon.” He says.

Thorin frowns. He was just going to get up to go look for Fili, when Balin comes and sits down by him.

“Thorin, we need to talk.” He says. “Fili is officially an adult next month. What are your plans for teaching him ‘the ways with a woman’?” he asks quietly.

Thorin growls. “I am not sure, Balin. It didn’t occur to me that Fili would be considered an official adult during the quest.” He said rubbing his chin. ‘I have no Wife nor Dwarrowdam to teach him by.” What do you suggest?” Thorin asks.

Just then you come walking back up to the campsite, your hair leaving damp streaks down your back. You have it up in a low bun with a stick through it holding it in place, because you realize you forgot the hair oil in your travel bag. You dig around in it and growl when you can’t find it in the pocket you remember putting it in. You groan when you see a hole in the corner of the pocket and realize the bottle must’ve fallen out.

“What’s the matter, Lass?” Dwalin asks when he hears you cursing in Khuzdul. “My pack got a hole in the pocket that I kept my hair oil in, and it must’ve fallen out while we traveled today. Now I have nothing to smooth my hair with so I can get the knots out of it.” You growl.

Thorin looks up when he hears this and sees you frowning. He pulls his bag over and digs through it. “Here, Emma.” He says and tosses you a full bottle of hair oil. You catch it and look at him stunned. “But…” you start to say, but Thorin interrupts. “Do not worry, I have more Emma, take it and use it so your hair doesn’t get all snarled.” He tells you.

You look down at your feet and quietly say, “Thank you, Thorin.” Then you head back to your pack and dig out your comb and hair ties and pins, then head back to the lake to comb out your hair and re-braid it in privacy.

Thorin’s eyes follow you as you move about camp then head back towards the lake. Balin takes note and grins. Once you were out of earshot he quips, “Has a certain Lass caught the King’s attention?” he asks with a knowing grin.

Thorin looks at Balin for a moment then clears his throat. “Balin…” he says in a warning tone.

“Thorin, someone needs to have the talk with Fili. She is the only one who can help you to teach him! We have no other Dwarrowdams available. Fili is your Nephew, so it is up to you to teach him.”

Thorin growls quietly so none of the other Dwarves hear. “How am I supposed to teach him, Balin, when I haven’t had a female yet, myself aside from my own coming-of-age day!”

Balin just chuckles. “Well ya have one there… you seem to fancy her, and you have a month to convince her to help you and learn what she likes and doesn’t.

Thorin growls. “Balin she realized this would happen and talked with me about it. She was quite upset. I promised her we would not force her into this and would find another way if she was not willing.”

“Well, Thorin ya’d better start thinking how else yer gonna teach Fili about pleasurin’ and lovin’ a woman and joinin’ with them without hurtin’ her. Ya know darn well how large the Dwarrow of Durin are, and how it takes more preparation to enter a woman, so we don’t hurt her! Ya went through the training even if you’ve not had use for it till now.” Dwalin teases as he sits down next to Thorin with his pipe in hand.

Thorin groans and rubs his face feeling outnumbered and ganged up on.

“Go talk to her, Thorin. Tell her how ya feel. I see ya watching her constantly since we found her. Yer always making sure she is warm and protected. Fili has picked up on that and is showing an interest in her too. Haven’t ya noticed he brings her peppermint tea every morning? He heard her say it’s her favourite. Fili asked Bombur and Bilbo to show him what Peppermint looks like so he can find some for her tea every morning since!” Dwalin tells Thorin.

Thorin groaned. “Great.” He says while rubbing his face. I will talk with her about it but not tonight. Let her be for the night.” He tells them.

-----------------

You’re sitting on the rock by the lakeshore looking out at the water. Running the oil through your hair as you finger comb out the larger knots, you again feel eyes on you. You glance around but see no one. You cautiously go back to oiling your hair until all the larger knots are out. You smile as the breeze picks up the scent of the oil. It smells like Thorin, which makes your heart skip a few beats.

Picking up your comb, you start to section off your long locks and begin to comb out the smaller snarls. Once it is all combed out, your hair just shines and is so glossy. You ponder how you want to put it up this time. You decide to just do a large six strand braid. You section it off and begin to braid it. You have to pull the length over your shoulder and finish the braid. Then you tie it off.

Glancing down at the bottle from Thorin, you put the cap back on it and pick up your semi-dried clothes and comb and take them and the bottle of oil back to camp. When you get halfway to camp, you run into Fili, who has an arm full of wood.

“OH! I’m sorry, Fee! Here let me help you!” you exclaim as you literally run into him and he drops the wood with an astonished look on his face.

You chuckle when you see his face get red and he bends to pick up the pieces of wood. “It’s fine, Emma.” He tells you. “I got it.” He says as he hefts the last piece back into his arm. “May I walk with you back to camp?” he asks.

You nod. “You may.” you reply. He stops for a moment. “Why do you smell like Uncle?” he asks. You giggle. “I lost my bottle of hair oil. It fell out of a hole in the pocket I had it in, in my travel bag. I needed some hair oil after washing my hair and Thorin gave me a bottle of his to use. Otherwise, my hair would be in knots by the end of the trip.” You explain.

“Is this your bottle?” he asks sheepishly as he pulls a bottle from his pants pocket. “I found it on the path this afternoon when you were at the front of the line talking to Uncle. Kee and I were at the back and I hit it with my toe, the noise caught my attention. I picked it up and opened it, and it smelled like you.” He explains as he hands it back to you. “I figured it must’ve fallen out of your pack.” He told you.

“Oh! Thank you Fee!” you reply and give him a kiss on the cheek and a big hug. He stands there surprised for a moment, then hesitantly hugs you back.

You two come walking back to camp talking and you head to your pack. You put the bottles in a different pocket then dig around for a needle and thread. You find some and then look for some fabric to use as a patch. You growl realizing you haven’t any sturdy cloth to patch the hole.

“What’s the matter, Em?” Balin asks, seeing you getting frustrated. He comes over and squats down.

“I have a hole in my bag’s pocket and I thought I had some sturdy fabric I could use to patch it, but it appears I have used all of it up to patch my clothes.” You explain.

“Here Lass.” Dwalin says as he comes over with a section of leather. “Will this work? Let me see this hole in your bag.” He asks.

You point at the good size hole and he holds the leather over it. Nodding he cuts off a section and then pushes it into the pocket and slides it over to cover the hole. “Hold it there and stitch around the hole, then sew along the edge of the leather so it doesn’t catch on the things you put in the pocket.” He tells you.

You nod. “Thank you, Dwalin.” You reply.

You start to sew the patch into the pocket around the hole first, then around the perimeter of the leather patch.

Balin watches you and when you are finished, he praises your sewing skills. “Where’d ya learn to sew like that, Lass?” he asks.

“My best friend back in Erebor was a seamstress. She escaped with me from Smaug’s attack and went to the Blue Mountains with the rest of the Dwarves. She taught me to sew all kinds of things. I made my sheath for the sword I wear, and other things as well.” You explain.

Balin nods. He asks, “May I see the sheath you made?” he asks. You nod and take it off.

Balin chuckles when Dwalin teases you. “Are ya actually taking that thing off fer once?!? How can ya stand sleepin’ with it on?” he asks.

You shrug and hand it to Balin to look at while you put away your sewing supplies. He notices immediately that the back part is heavily padded and that there’s even padding where the handle rests against your back. He sees the stitches are well done and that it is high quality leather work. He examines the tooling, and despite it being extremely worn and faded, it’s pattern and coloring is still recognizable.

He nods and hands it back to you. Dwalin chuckles and shakes his head as you put it back on and strap it to you.

Thorin watches the exchange and all he can think about is seeing you at the lake and how badly he wants to join with you and make you his. He suspected from the moment he first saw you injured from the Orc attack that you were his One. Now, he wants nothing more than to make it reality. But he is worried about Fili and how he will react. Why is he also pursuing you when he has not even been deemed an adult fully yet?” Thorin ponders these things for the rest of the night.

That night it is particularly cold, and he looks across at you shivering in your bed roll. You had chosen to cuddle with Bofur, but he had rolled onto his other side and was not cuddling you any longer. Your damp hair has frost settling on it, making it almost completely white, and he can see your breath escaping your trembling lips. He gets up and comes over to you and quietly squats down by you. You are shivering violently and mumbling quietly. He can see in the firelight your lips are turning blue.

He puts his hand on your shoulder, releases the buckle for the sword attached to your back, and leans it against your pack. Then he just decides to pick you up, bedroll and all and carries you back to his bedroll. He lays you down on top of his bedroll, lays down next to you and pulls you flush against him. Then tosses his fur lined coat over you and covers you both with his heavy blanket.

After a few minutes, you stop shivering and nuzzle your head under his chin and quiet down. You both fall asleep all warm and cozy.

That night, Thorin dreams he is visited by Mahal. In his dream, he sees Mahal creating three beings, two Dwarrow and a Dwarrowdam. The Dwarrowdam’s spirit is split into three pieces where as the other two Dwarrow’s are split only in two. He hears the Dwarrowdam cry out when her spirit is torn form her and he feels pain also as his is torn from him. The other Dwarrow also cries out at his spirit being torn from him.

Mahal gives each of the two Dwarrow a piece of the Dwarrowdam’s spirit, which calms and soothes the pain, and she is given a piece of theirs in exchange.

Then Mahal sets them in three different places / times on Middle earth. One in Erebor, and many years later the Dwarrowdam is also placed in Erebor, then Smaug’s attack happens and the second Dwarrow in his dream is placed in the Blue Mountains many years later. Suddenly Thorin wakens to Fili’s angry voice.

“Uncle! What in the name of Mahal are you doing?” Fili angrily says. Thorin opens his eyes, blinking from the sunlight. He frowns and looks up at his Nephew, who is holding a cup of tea and looking pissed at him.

“What do you mean, Fili? I was sleeping, why is that bothering you?” he asks quietly, trying not to wake you up.

“It’s not what you are doing, it’s who you are sleeping with.” Fili says angrily, but quietly as he plops the tea down by your head and storms off.”

You stir, but Thorin holds you close, and you fall back to sleep for a little while longer. Thorin frowns, thinking about his dream and then Fili’s reaction to finding you sleeping with his Uncle.

Thorin sees Balin is awake and Thorin slowly works his way out from behind you so as not to wake you. He leaves his blanket and fur coat covering you and he shivers in the morning air for a moment then goes to stand by the fire as his body adjusts to the sudden change in temperature.

He walks over to Balin, who smiles and hands him a cup of tea. Thorin sits down next to him seeing they are the only ones awake besides Fili, who wandered off towards the lake. “Someone is unhappy you moved in.” Balin says quietly.

“I only brought her into my bed roll because she was shivering so bad last night. Her blankets are not thick enough for these temps.” He replies. “She will probably be upset with me for doing so, but I couldn’t stand the thought of her laying there shivering all night, especially with her wet hair. It was getting frost on it and I didn’t want her getting sick. Her lips were turning blue when I picked her up, Balin” Thorin adds.

Balin hums, thinking. “Thorin, have you thought that perhaps she is Fili’s One?”

Thorin nods, “I have, but I suspect she is my One as well. Can a Dwarrowdam be two Dwarves’ One?” he asks.

Balin looks surprised. “Well, I’ve never heard of it happening, but I suppose if Mahal wished to do that, he could. It would make things incredibly awkward though. The two Dwarrow would have to be incredibly close and willing to share her between them. Not to mention trying to figure out which Dwarrow Fathered her children. Why do you ask, Thorin?”

Thorin tells Balin of his dream and Balin hums, deep in thought again. You need to talk to both of them, Thorin, and soon. Fili is your Heir, and your Nephew, if this isn’t taken care of quickly, it could cause a rift in the company that could destroy this quest and your kingdom.” Balin warns. Thorin nods. “Where did he go?” he asks Balin.

Balin points out towards the lake. Thorin nods and gets up. “Will you talk to her Balin, see if she feels the same way we do about her?” he asks. Again, Balin nods and watches as Thorin goes to try to straighten things out with Fili.

You wake up a while later and are immediately confused. Sitting up you see the familiar tea in Fili’s cup that he has been leaving for you lately. You smile and pick it up. You sit and wrap yourself in Thorin’s fur lined coat and his blanket. Smiling at his strong, musky, pine and tobacco scent lingering on them. You contentedly sip on the tea, looking around for Thorin.

Balin greets you quietly and comes to sit near you. “Did ya sleep well, Lass?” he asks.

“No, Balin. I was cold and having strange dreams last night. How did I wake up here when I went to sleep over there by Bofur and the log?” you ask confused, and sip your tea.

Balin chuckles. “Apparently Thorin saw you shivering last night. He said your hair had frost on it since it was still wet when you fell asleep. It got pretty cold last night, and he couldn’t stand seeing you shivering. He said he saw your lips were turning blue when he checked on you and decided to pick you up and brought you to his bedroll so you could share body heat and be warm.

Fili saw you sleeping with his Uncle this morning, and got upset and stormed off after leaving you your tea.” He informs you with a cautious look. You frown and sip your tea, trying to figure out why Fili would behave like this.

“You said you had strange dreams last night, Lass? Would you like to share them with me? Perhaps we can figure out what they mean.” He tells you, giving you a kind smile and a raised eyebrow.

You describe seeing a large being, who made two Dwarves and you. You tell him you felt like the being ripped out your soul and tore it in three equal pieces, putting one back into you, leaving you feeling strange and lonely.

You watched as he took the souls of the other two Dwarrow and tore each of theirs in half, giving them each one half of their souls back, and then giving each of them one piece of yours.

Finally, the being gave you each of the remaining halves of the two Dwarves souls, so you had a piece of each of them and they each had a piece of you but not of each other’s.

Then you describe how the being placed one of the Dwarves into the Lonely Mountain, and many years later you awoke there, and then you see him place the other Dwarf in the Blue Mountains many years after Smaug’s attack.

Somehow the three Dwarves find each other and the two male Dwarves share the Dwarrowdam. The older Dwarrow marries her first, and shares her with the younger who seems to be his Heir, but not his Son.

When the older one dies after a long and fulfilling life, the younger one assumes the throne and marries the Dwarrowdam he had been sharing with the older Dwarrow. They ruled together until the end of their days. She bearing him heirs and numerous Dwarrowdams.

The three of them were buried all together under the mountain in the same tomb room. When the younger Dwarrow and the Dwarrowdam finally died of old age.

Balin sits there listening to you tell him of your dream and is stunned. It is almost word for word what Thorin’s dream was except for the last part. He suspects Thorin’s dream was interrupted by Fili waking him.

Balin hums. If this is Mahal trying to tell them what he has done and why, then Balin decides he needs to talk with Fili and see if he has had this same dream. “Lass, do not be upset by what all has happened and your dream. I suspect Mahal has done something very special and unusual with you and Thorin and Fili. But I need to talk with Fili. He is not yet fully considered an adult, and so can’t initiate any kind of courtship, where Thorin can. I have a feeling Thorin may need you to help calm Fili and teach him the ways of the world of women.” He tells you cautiously.

You look at Balin for a moment in disbelief, then fright. “What?!? Balin how can I?” you squeal in fright quietly, so as to not wake everyone else. “I have not ever been with a male in that way! I know no more about those things, than Fili does!” you say quietly with tears in your eyes. “Thorin promised me he would find another way, he promised he wouldn’t make me do this!” you say as you begin to cry quietly.

“Come here, Lass.” Balin says as he opens up his arm for you. You come over to him and bury your head into his soft beard. He holds you and lets you cry for a bit. “Lass. I myself have never had the pleasure of a woman’s company in that way other than my coming-of -age day, which was a VERY, VERY long time ago. But I have been taught about it like all Dwarrow are, we are told it is something incredibly special and pleasurable with the right person. If Mahal has indeed made you both Thorin’s and Fili’s One, you have nothing to fear. They will both treat you well and will do their best to not hurt you. Thorin has had his training, and though he has never used it, to my knowledge, he will be gentle with you. Just keep the lines of communication open with both him and Fili. If either of them does something that you do not like, then don’t be afraid to tell them so and suggest they try something else.” He tells you.

“Now, you have 3 choices, Sweetheart. 1) You can let Thorin know your feelings for him, and let him get some practice in ahead of having to train Fili, or 2) You can wait and all three of you would have to learn together, which would be very embarrassing for Thorin and Fili both. Or 3) You can do nothing, and not tell either one, and refuse to help Thorin teach Fili. It would make it very hard for Thorin to teach Fili how to pleasure a female, and could potentially make their relationship very strained, it also could potentially destroy the unity of the company and the kingdom depending on how Fili and Thorin choose to handle all this.

We all want you to be happy, and comfortable, Sweetheart. You are loved by all of us, but the love that Thorin and Fili seem to have for you is deeper and stronger than anything else the rest of us have towards you. It is left up to you, but you need to talk with both of them and tell them of your dream and your feelings for each of them.

Just understand that Fili is off limits for you until the day intimacy and women are explained to him and he is trained to pleasure a female, and fully deemed an adult. If you do not wait, you shame him, disqualify him from being Thorin’s Heir, and you dishonor him, Thorin & yourself.

Understand, dear Emma, that without this training, Fili could greatly hurt you since he has no idea what he is doing and had no training yet.” Balin warns you.

You shudder and nod. “Okay, Balin.” You say quietly, then stand and walk back to Thorin’s bedroll. You lie down, cover back up and lay there thinking about what Balin told you. You ask Mahal if he really intended you to belong to two Dwarrow at the same time. And why Thorin and Fili. You pray quietly that he gives Fili and Thorin some kind of sign to clarify for them what is going on and what his will is.

You cry quietly a little more, afraid of what your future now holds. Not wanting to destroy the unity of the company and the Dwarves’ kingdom, but afraid to give yourself to the King and the Crown Prince at the same time. It’s unheard of and never been done before. Why you three? Why now? How will Thorin and Fili explain this to everyone? You know nothing of being royalty and ruling anyone! You wonder if it would be better if you just grab your things and slip away quietly, thus eliminating the problem.

You quietly get up, leave Thorin’s fur lined jacket and heavy blanket on his bed roll. You pack up your belongings and bedroll and bring it back over to your travel pack and put it away where it belongs on the pack. You take your blanket and wrap it around you and tell Balin you are going to go for a walk to think and try to figure things out. Forgetting that you do not have your sword on your back since Thorin had removed it the night prior.

Balin tells you to stay nearby in case Thorin comes back and wants to head out. He is worried about you and fears you will run now that you realize the danger your presence has created in the company unintentionally. Balin prays to Mahal to work things out quickly so this doesn’t affect the quest to reclaim Erebor.

---------meanwhile----------------

Thorin follows Fili’s tracks and finds him sitting on the large, bumpy rock by the lake where you had sat to comb out your hair. Fili had tears in his eyes and was holding a comb in his hands.

He turned when he heard someone approaching, tucking the comb in his pocket, and growled to see it was Thorin. “What do you want?” he grumbles.

“I want to talk with my Sister’s beloved Son, my Heir.” Thorin says quietly. “I know you are upset with me and frustrated. I know you are still a month away from the day when you will be fully considered an adult, and it seems you are struggling with the emotions you are feeling. I remember feeling the same way.” Thorin says as he approaches his Nephew and the stone. He sits down on one of the stones nearby.

“Fili, have you had any dreams of Mahal?” he asks quietly. “Dreams where you see Mahal creating Dwarrow and how he makes their Ones?” Thorin carefully asks Fili.

Fili is quiet for a few minutes, looking out to the lake. Finally, he replies, “Yes, Uncle. Though I do not understand it. I thought a Dwarrowdam and a Dwarrow are only meant for each other. How can a Dwarrowdam have TWO male Dwarrows be their Ones? And Why would Mahal do that?”

“I do not know, Fili. I can tell you what I dreamed; though I believe I was not allowed to finish my dream because someone decided to wake me up before it finished.” Thorin replies looking up at his Nephew with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, Uncle.” Fili answers, feeling bad he woke his Uncle from a dream that Mahal gave him to try to tell him something important.

Thorin explains to Fili his dream and Fili immediately realizes it is the same dream he had and fills Thorin in on what the ending of his dream was. They are both stunned and are quiet for a while.

“Uncle, do you think we were the Dwarves being formed in the dream and that Dwarrowdam was Emma?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know, Fee. We will need to talk with her and see if she has had the same dream. If she has, then I’d say that seems to be the case.” Thorin says, as he rubs his beard and ponders his thoughts on sharing Emma with his Nephew.

“It’s never been done before, that I know of, but would seem to make sense. You are my Heir, and Mahal only knows how long we all will live. I do not plan to have any children as I am content to have you as my Heir; but you, will need to have children with a Dwarrowdam to continue the line of Durin. Emma is not quite exactly between our ages. But she most certainly will outlive me. And is still young enough to bear you children and help you raise them, if this is the case.” He tells Fili.

“Uncle, do you think she will agree to this?” he asks. “I know I can’t touch her in that way for another month yet! How will this work?”

Thorin thinks. “I have been trained in the ways, but never had the opportunity to use it beyond that and practice it. I don’t know how I am expected to train you when I have not the experience, Fili.” Thorin admits quietly.

“Emma would have to be willing to join with me during this upcoming month so we can figure things out between us and then when your time comes to be shown and declared an adult, we can show you what we have learned. After that, we would just have to share her and all of us learn together since this kind of relationship has not been done before, that I have knowledge of.

If this would be acceptable for you, I am willing to talk to her about it.” Thorin offers. “I do not know how else we can make this work.” He tells his Nephew. “All I know is that we will have to figure out ways to share her in all aspects.”

Fili thinks about this whole situation. “I will do whatever you see is the best way, Uncle. I am sorry I got so upset. I thought the dream I dreamed was just my mind playing tricks on me. I didn’t realize Mahal had sent it to all three of us.”

“We do not know that for sure, Fili. We still need to talk to Emma about all this.” He tells Fili.

“Okay, Thorin, let’s go talk to her.” Fili says, getting up and waiting for Thorin to get off the rock he was sitting on. Thorin stands and steps away from the rocks.

Fili hops down from rock to rock till he is on the beach, then he follows Thorin and heads for the camp.

They get to camp, and everyone is up and milling about, waiting for breakfast. Balin is off to the side, thinking about this whole ordeal, wracking his brain if he remembers ever hearing if something like this ever happened before. He wishes he had access to Erebor’s library right now.

He looks up when Thorin and Fili enter the camp.

“Where is Emma?” Thorin asks after looking around and not seeing her. He sees her backpack and sword are still laying where her bedroll had been the night before and he immediately gets a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Thorin glances to his bedroll and sees his fur lined cloak and blanket are sitting on his. His heart drops and he begins to worry.

#thorin oakenshield #king thorin #dwalin #thorin fanfiction #middle earth #the hobbit #kili durin #balin #alternate universe #the hobbit au #Fili Durin #Emma #coming of age #training #lessons #practice #smut and fluff #angst

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jazzistolkienfanfics · 3 years

Text

My Queen - Aragorn x reader

Hi, can you write something with Aragorn where Arwen did sailed to the Undying Lands, and a couple of years after being crowbed he decided to visit his old friend (the reader) at her hometown because he realized he wanted her as his queen?

of course @danihow! thanks for your request! the easiest way for me to do this story was in a lot of short snapshots, if you will, so here!

Type: Imagine Pairing: Aragorn x reader Summary: once Arwen had left for the Undying Lands, Aragorn needed a Queen Warnings: tiny bit of angst Word Count: 1254 words

Aragorn twisted his rings around his fingers. They’d symbolised power and strength to other people, but right now, all he felt was lost. Weak. Broken.

He supposed that Arwen leaving was for the better. He would have broken her heart by dying far earlier than she, and she was destined for something better than a subservient queen.

But he did need someone to reign at his side, and he had almost no time to find that person.

Suddenly, he thought of Y/N Y/L/N. They’d parted ways only a few days ago, after their incredibly long quest to Mordor. She was simply a mortal woman, friend of Gandalf, but she was absolutely beautiful.

Y/N held her own in battle admirably, and she had such warmness to her that made everyone feel so joyful.

He knew, then, that he wanted Y/N to be his Queen.

---

Y/N sighed, hiding in the massive crowds of people in Gondor, watching her friends of more than a year standing in full view.

The hobbits. Gandalf. Gimli and Legolas. Aragorn.

Nothing hurt more than such a handsome man be so kind towards her, and she could do nothing, because he was already in love with someone else.

Y/N couldn’t stand to watch anymore. She turned, slipping away through the crowds. Sure, she was happy for them, but she should have put a stop to her immature feelings earlier. They could do nothing but cause pain.

Greeting Legolas, Aragorn thought he saw a familiar spot of h/l h/c hair in the masses, but it was lost just as quickly.

He turned back to Legolas with his ready smile, but almost knowing how Y/N hadn’t wanted to be here, how she would be a week or a month’s journey away soon, broke his heart.

He couldn’t stand to greet the crowds any longer and, with a pain deep in his eyes, excused himself with some made-up duty, slipping away just as she had.

Just as his hope did.

---

Y/N slammed the tankard on the bar top with unnecessary force, but there was no anger in her eyes. A tear fell swiftly from her cheek, sinking into some crack in the wood of the table.

“Another.” She pushed a gold coin over the table. “Please.”

She drank and drank, until she could barely see her fingers before her face, dragging herself to a room in the inn and falling asleep.

The pain was worse, now that she was alone.

Why did you give me hope, if only to tear me down? she asked Aragorn mentally.

Of course, he didn’t respond. Because he wasn’t there, and he never would be.

She could’ve blamed Arwen so easily, but she didn’t. How could she, when all that she’d done was fall in love? No, better to blame herself. Better to bury that pain, deep where it could never be found again, where it could never hurt her again.

Y/N had been stupid to think she had a chance at a future. She would never be more than this - broken. Crying. Lost.

She turned over so she was looking out the grimy window, at the night hidden by the thick fog falling over her home.

It didn’t feel like home. Home was Aragorn. But she obviously wasn’t that to him.

She couldn’t barge into his life like that - it wasn’t fair. She would rather be the one to suffer.

---

Aragorn swiped the fifth map off the table, slamming his hands back on the wood. They shook, and he cursed himself yet again, not caring when his advisors stared at him.

Why had he never, in the year he’d known her, asked Y/N where she lived?

She’d mentioned when they met in Rivendell that she lived around there, in a small fishing village, but Aragorn couldn’t find it. Of course, he didn’t want to go riding around that entire area like some prick of a Prince Charming looking for Cinderella - not that Y/N wasn’t a beautiful woman worthy of being loved.

But he supposed that if he really wanted Y/N, if he wanted to get those damn ‘advisors’ off his back as they harped on about a Queen yet again ...

“I could be gay,” he grumbled to himself, sweeping his old cloak over his shoulders with some element of satisfaction. “Did you ever consider that?”

“No, because you’ve been pining over Y/N for three years,” one of his advisors pointed out.

Aragorn rolled his eyes, removing his crown, his jewellery, anything that made him royal. He was Strider once again, and he was going to find Y/N, if it was the last thing he ever did.

---

Y/N wrinkled her nose at the revolting smell of the decaying fish by the docks, walking as far away from the barrels as she could, with her arms filled with nets.

The pile in her arms was so high she couldn’t really see where she was going, and so it came as no surprise to her when she ran into someone. The force and suddenness of the collision threw Y/N off her feet, her body hitting the wooden deck hard, and her nets falling on top of her.

“I apologise,” a vaguely familiar voice said coolly, though all Y/N could see of the speaker was a silhouette. “Could you help me? I’m looking for-”

At that moment, the person who’d run her over brought her too her feet, taking the nets off her with a special delicacy.

“-Y/N Y/L/N,” they gasped, stumbling back.

Y/N tilted her head to the side confusedly, taking in the person before her. They were covered in a dark cloak, the hood so large she couldn’t see their face. Judging by size, it was a man, probably mortal rather than Elf, but she didn’t know who he was.

“I’m sorry, do I know you ... sir?”

He threw back his hood, and this time it was Y/N’s turn to blanch, reeling back in shock at the man before her.

“Aragorn?”

This had to be some cruel trick. It had been two years since the night she had almost drunk herself to death, giving him up along with her heart and happiness. There was no way he’d be here now.

“You haven’t changed,” he said, smiling melancholically. “I always painted you right in my dreams.”

“You dreamed about me?” Y/N asked, touched, as she took one step closer to him. As if he would disappear again.

“Every night.” Aragorn swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry.”

He reached out his hand, and Y/N took it, letting him squeeze her fingers with silent promise.

“I’m sorry too,” she returned. “I was a coward for running away.”

“And I was an idiot for letting you go.”

Y/N had to laugh then, dropping his hand gently. “When did we get like this?”

“I don’t know,” Aragorn answered. “I really don’t. But ... I’m sorry. And I always loved you.”

“That’s a lot to take in,” Y/N barely managed to say with all the blood rushing to her face. “Especially since I though you never did.”

“I still do.”

Y/N finally opened the dam of emotions - the pain and anger and sadness, but the overwhelming love topped it all. And she was far better for it.

“I want you to be my Queen, Y/N,” King Aragorn II Elessar declared, with a hilarious amount of formality for a stinky fish village.

“And I have never wished anything more.”

Y/N let him kiss her hand, and she let herself smile.

A/N - hey! i’ve had a shitty few days :) sorry for taking so long to update!

#aragorn #aragorn x reader #x reader #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr x reader #you

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maaaddiexo · 3 years

Text

The Within Series | Legolas Greenleaf

Book 1: The Devil Within - Part 1.9

Mainlist | Serieslist

Nyx of Tyndall does not know love or kindness. Cursed at a young age by a jealous witch, Nyx has lived a life of solitude and death.

Until Gandalf the Grey requests her presence and uncontrollable skill in assisting a young Hobbit across Middle-Earth with nine others to destroy a ring so powerful all fall victim to its evil.

Not only must Nyx face Orcs, demons, and creatures she’s never seen before, but also the devil inside. Controlling the devil is the key to finding freedom in a spell that can’t be broken. But it will not be so easy for Nyx when every obstacle she faces pushes her to an edge she cannot return from.

Chapter Nine

Nyx slept soundlessly that night, which surprised her. She’d been dwelling on her decision to join the Fellowship the moment she’d agreed. She was tired. She didn’t want to go any further. And yet, looking into Frodo’s eyes and feeling no judgement from Aragorn, how could she possibly say no?

An elf woke Nyx up in the early hours of dawn, helping her into a warm tub and rubbing the stress away with a sponge. Nyx did her best to fight the anger at not being allowed to sleep in but she was aware of the water heating up a few degrees when it should have been cooling. Her anger was stronger than before. Harder to control.

Afterwards, the elf helped Nyx into dark pants – she couldn’t tell if they were brown or black – and a dark blue turtleneck tunic. Overtop, she was given a thick woollen cloak, black as night. Her hair was braided into two inverted braids which were then secured in a bun at the nape of her neck.

“Low maintenance,” the elf explained, standing up. “Will you be joining the others for breakfast?”

Nyx inhaled. Since her arrival she’d avoided eating in the dining hall. Being around so many people made her uncomfortable, which made it easier for the evil within to take control win. But she would be traveling with these people now for who knew how long. She would have to get used to it. But, perhaps, not yet. “Oh, um, no. I need to finish packing.”

The elf nodded and left. Nyx moved to the end of her bed, where Elrond’s gifts from the day before lay.

“You will need weapons, my dear. And not just this old…thing,” he looked at the scythe with disdain. The blade was chipped and dull, and the wooden handle was thinning where she often gripped it. The wood was also stained with blood, but it often was and Nyx had grown tired of washing the wood when she didn’t even see anyone.

“I don’t have any other weapons, Lord Elrond. I’m sure I will be fine.”

“Nonsense. Since your arrival, I have had my people working on some new weapons for you. Including a new scythe. Gandalf tells me you are quite attached.”

“It’s the only way I’m connected to them.” Gandalf had told Nyx that her parents had lived on farm before they had her. And though she didn’t have any memories of them, this made her feel close to them.

Elrond nodded and placed Nyx’s old scythe against the wall. “Then it will be waiting right here for you when you return. But you cannot take that into war. It will splinter on the first strike. Here,” Elrond lifted his arm and two Elves came in. One carried a thick bundle wrapped in cloth while the other carried a scythe made fully of metal, with strips of black wood running with the long handle from top to bottom.

Nyx ran her hand along it in awe. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is strong. It will serve you well. And here.” The second Elf unraveled the bundle of cloth, revealing two daggers with birch hilts and a knife with a red wood hilt. “For extra protection.”

Nyx smiled at Elrond. “Thank you. You owe me nothing and yet you always offer so much.”

Elrond smiled. “You are worth so much more than you think, Nyx of Tyndall. Soon you will see.”

Nyx smiled. “I really am sorry about your gazebo. And your Council Room floor.”

Elrond laughed. “Already forgiven. But don’t expect me to forget anytime soon.”

Nyx sheathed her weapons in the leather holster the Elf had dressed her in underneath her cloak. There were slots for her two daggers and the knife, plus an additional holster that she wore over her cloak. One strap went around her chest while the across her chest like a sash. The holster was on the back. She’d had a similar one before, but it seemed Elrond had replaced that as well.

Nyx knew breakfast would be over by nine, so she was in the courtyard at nine-oh-five, patiently waiting for the rest to arrive. Ever the punctual Elf, Legolas was the first to arrive.

“Good morning, Lady Nyx.”

Nyx grimaced. “Please, just Nyx.”

Legolas inclined his head, hands behind his back. He carried a bow and arrow, the bow made from a material unlike anything Nyx had ever seen. The holster for his quiver was similar to Nyx’s. His hair was braided the same as the day before: a small one going around each ear and a larger one for the hair on the crown of his head. He was dressed differently than when he had first arrived. He wore tall brown boots and grey pants. Arm guards over a grey shirt and a green elven tunic. He touched Nyx’s scythe, which she had in her hand at the moment. His fingers ran over a small inscription in elvish near the hilt of the blade.

“Dilthen lúg. Little Dragon,” Legolas read. “What does that mean?”

Nyx furrowed her brow. “It is what Gandalf used to call me…when I was a little girl. I almost forgot he used to call me that.”

“Why did he call you that?”

Nyx closed her eyes, but the memory was a good one. Those were rare for her. “I had the short temper of a dragon. Plus, my bad habit of catching fire made the nickname an easy choice for Gandalf. I used to find it endearing. Now, people say my name with malice and fear in their voices.”

“Why? You do not look so dangerous. Except, of course, for the large weapon in your hands.”

Nyx looked at the scythe as someone else joined the two of them and spoke. Aragorn. “Do not doubt her, Legolas. She has more fire in her than you think.”

Nyx looked away and took a few steps back, under an old stone arch. The two conversed and she ran her thumb over the inscription Legolas had pointed out. She hadn’t even noticed it until he’d mentioned it. She looked over at the Elf. He was laughing with Aragorn freely and she wondered how two people who’d seen battle and taken so many lives could still be so happy.

She looked at Aragorn. Though she knew he meant nothing ill, his words bothered her still, and she felt the anger inside her swell.

Take control of it.

Nyx leaned her head against the stone wall, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. They didn’t work. It seemed she had less control over the evil inside her since she carried the Ring.

“Nyx!”

Gandalf was standing in front her, waving his hand back and forth in front of her face. The rest of the Fellowship had arrived but, thankfully, no one was paying attention to the two.

“Sorry, Gandalf.”

“What is troubling you, my dear?”

“It’s the Ring. It did something to me. I feel…angrier. The littlest things are making me angry. This morning, I nearly cut off the Elf’s head when she woke me up. And just now, Aragorn.” Nyx shook her head. “Maybe it is best if I do not journey with you.”

“Nonsense, my dear. You are one of us. There is more good in you than you think. Come.”

“The Ring Bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom,” Elrond announced. “On you who travel with him, no oath or bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you.”

“The Fellowship awaits the Ring Bearer.”

Frodo turned nervously, taking the time to look at all the people who had chosen to accompany him on quest they may not return from. He walked through the group, leading the way.

The moment they crossed over Rivendell’s border, the air of magic dissipated, and Nyx suddenly felt it hard to breathe. She was at the back of the group with Aragorn who noticed instantly.

“Sacred Elven places suppress other forms of magic that is not their own for the sake of protection,” he explained. “Now outside of Rivendell, you once again feel the full force of the curse.”

“It wasn’t this bad before,” Nyx whispered, mainly to herself. “The Ring did something to me. To the curse.”

“Perhaps when we destroy it, you will go back to normal.”

Nyx didn’t know what normal was. “Do you really think we will destroy it?”

Aragorn was silent.

That afternoon they stopped for lunch and a longer break than usual. While Boromir helped Pippin and Merry work on their swordsmanship and Sam handed out plates of food to everyone, Nyx sat silently beside Gandalf as he smoked his trusty pipe.

Gimli, who was slightly behind Nyx and Gandalf, spoke surely, “If anyone was to ask of my opinion, which I note they are not, I’d say we are taking the long way ‘round. Gandalf, we could pass through the mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome.”

A sour taste filled Nyx’s mouth at the name of Moria, but she wasn’t quite sure why.

“No, Gimli,” Gandalf replied softly. “I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice.”

“Why?” Nyx asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Evil lurks close there in the shadows,” Gandalf replied. “And since we are already walking straight into the fire, it would be best to avoid it when possible.”

Legolas, who had been watching the north, suddenly moved to the other side of the rocky outcropping to watch the south. He stared intently.

“What is it? What do you see?”

Legolas glanced at Nyx, who was squinting to try and see what he saw.

“Nothing, it’s just a whiff of cloud,” Gimli insisted.

“It’s moving fast,” Boromir stood. “Against the wind.”

“Crebain from Dunland!” Legolas shouted.

“Hide!” Aragorn shouted.

Nyx grabbed for Legolas, who remained where he was, quickly searching for the perfect place to hide. She found it nearly instantly, five paces from where they stood now. She dragged him along, tugging him under the curved boulder. Together, they tried to quiet their breathing and still their movements. Nyx heard everybody else scatter, their feet thumping against the ground as they ran for cover. She could feel Legolas’ chest against her shoulder and tried to match his steady breathing. It was hard but she managed to slow her breathing and calm the fire dwelling in the pit of her stomach.

The sky darkened with the birds’ arrival, caws piercing the air. Nyx saw their shadows on the ground in front of her as they flew by, circling the area before leaving in the same way they came. Slowly everybody emerged and watched the birds leave. Legolas looked back at their hiding place. From where he stood, he could barely see where they’d hidden.

“That is an excellent hiding spot,” Legolas admired.

Nyx shrugged and walked away. She was good at hiding. “What are they?”

“Spies of Saruman! The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras.”

Nyx looked up at the snowy mountain, its peak hidden above the clouds. She grabbed her pack and tightened the laces on her boots. They set out immediately, climbing the steep incline of the mountain range. Nearly to the top, there was a grunt from behind Nyx and she turned to see Frodo tumbling down the hill.

“Frodo!” Gandalf called, unable to do anything but watch him roll down the slope of the mountain. Thankfully, Aragorn stopped him before he could roll too far and immediately Frodo reached for his chest. The Ring was gone. He spotted it just as Boromir did, lifting it up by the chain and holding it closely to his face.

“Boromir,” Aragorn said softly. The man either did not listen to him or did not hear him.

“It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing… Such a little thing.” He reached up to touch it. Aragorn called his name again, this time firmer. The man heard him this time.

“Give the Ring to Frodo.”

Nyx watched from beside Gandalf as he reluctantly returned the Ring to Frodo and ruffled his hair. She turned to the wizard. “I do not like the way he looks at the Ring. And I especially don’t like the way he looks at Frodo.”

Gandalf clenched his jaw, shifting his weight. “Neither do I, my dear. Neither do I.”

Part 1.10 ➺

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hallothere · 3 years

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Halros & the Fate of Brockenborings

Halros had never known horror like this.

The Bounders had been on their way to being ready, before. All things considered they were doing well for themselves. The land he had grown to love became evermore vigilant against the growing darkness. Halros had thought them alert if not experienced. Prepared, if yet untested.

Trouble had closed in around them. There was gossip of strange happenings in the north. Suspicious characters in Oatbarton, odd sounds on Northcotton farm. Men had been seen on the road to Stock, headed for Hobbiton. Traders, the rumors said, welcome merchants in an unwelcoming time. But there was a town near the Greenfields to protect. Halros could not venture too far south with goblins and Bree-land brigands growing braver by the day.

Bounder Primstone offered him a room on rainy nights. The Watch Office in Brockenborings was ‘more waterproof than a few branches’ as his friend had said. Such hospitality warmed his heart. And on a stormy night that would send even wargs to their dens Halros was happy to accept.

The invasion had caught everyone unawares. He and Primstone had been trapped like rats as the town had been overtaken. Brigands had flooded the place before most of them knew what was happening. Halros had helped board broken windows in the Watch Office as mothers and children huddled inside. He’d helped them escape out the back when they were finally cornered. Primstone had yelled for him to run when the brigands broke through the front door. But he could not abandon his host so easily. They had more to their friendship than the adventure with Bullroarer’s Club and Halros would fight for it.

He would surrender for it as well. The fight had ended when he saw the dagger raised to Primstone’s neck.

That had been… some time ago. It had been long since he’d seen his Bounder friend or any of his kin. He could not hope for help from Evendim. If they even knew of what was going on south of Annuminas, they were beset by other worries. Angmar was no longer a power in this conflict, as he had heard from the last messenger the Shire had seen alive. Still, smaller lieutenants and bands of orcs with a taste for vengeance plagued the roads to the north. What rumors that did manage to reach this far south were dark and full of dread things.

The Watch Office in Brockenborings had become his cage. Three walls of wood and one of iron fenced him in. When they did not drag him to the quarry in Scary, he was left to rot in the only cell he’d ever seen in the Shire. It had been dusty from disuse but otherwise well-kept. Reinforced and maintained, it seemed, in wait for the day he’d been locked inside.

He could not look to the East for help either. Bree had almost certainly been overrun. What news he had managed to hear had been grim. The same evil names were always mentioned. Brigands and orcs were in league with each other under the guidance of someone far more dangerous. Bill Ferny had marked him for retribution all those weeks ago, promised to report him to the master who now ran the Shire from the shadows. Whoever this Sharkey was, he knew how to gather the very worst sort of allies.

Halros had seen evil Men. The corrupt authority was merciless to the soft and the weak. There was no grace in subjugation. Hobbits of all ages worked their fingers to the bone. The once-jolly folk he had considered his neighbors had quickly gone from fat and hardy to hungry and weary. Still, the stout folk had borne it all with a resilience Halros could only marvel at. Mithrandir had said something once about hobbits being full of surprises. One of the more inspiring tales had been of a group of rebels in the hills, ones that were rumored to have fought in Stock and beyond. These had been captured and their leader whisked away. Halros tried to take comfort in the fact that he’d had allies in this fight, if only briefly.

Despite their adjustment to hard labor, Halros fought for them how he could. They were a strong people no doubt, but a gentler one than his own. The Shirefolk had not known cruelty of this scale. They did not know oppression. Halros would spare them this, if he could. He drew their captors’ ire well, jeering at a guard before a stumbling hobbit could be struck. Blame was shouldered and fights were picked before any hobbit under his protection could be threatened.

Halros had devoted his life to protecting the Shire. The charge that had been laid upon him had not yet been lifted. Sometimes the memory of his chieftain's errand was the only thing keeping him upright.

He had carried stone on a bleeding back and swung a pick with trembling arms. It was easy to goad the power hungry. It would likely as anything get him killed, so he was told. He was the only Man among the captives in Brockenborings. That gave him a unique advantage in his duty: he stood out like a sore thumb among the hobbits. It was no challenge to paint a target on his back. Brigands and orcs alike had reason to hate the Rangers. All he had to do was sling some mud and survive what came after.

On most days they let him out he was tasked with pushing the quarry cart. Tweens would pile rocks until the thing overflowed, and Halros would shove it to and fro. It took two grown hobbits to handle, and the overseers liked to see fewer pairs of hands on a single job. Sometimes he would let an exhausted worker hitch a ride, and sometimes he served as a carriage service for workers going to and from their shifts. He was only one Man, but he would do this as long as he could.

Whatever burden he could carry, whatever task he could share… As long as he could protect them, he could hope.

Halros had one main adversary in this fight. Cliff Redbark was the Scary overseer now that the other thugs had been given positions of authority elsewhere. He was predictable in his contempt for the peaceable Shirefolk, but quick to redirect his attention to the Ranger. If nothing else, Redbark could be relied upon to lash out at the most glaring opposition to his authority. There was no hesitation in teaching a lesson. But at least retribution didn’t linger.

Petunia Bracegirdle was trying to keep the fallen Ranger from diving right back into an altercation with the unimaginative overseer. “Oh please, Mister Halros,” she murmured close to his ear as he pushed himself off the floor, “We can’t bear to see you killed over this. What’ll we do without you?”

Halros knew they’d do well enough without him, but it was an effective argument. The Hobbits of Scary had gone and done just as Mithrandir said they would. As soon as they’d cottoned onto the fact that he was trying to shield them from trouble, they became a unified force dedicated to keeping him alive in turn. He never went hungry outside his cell, as much as he tried to divert the shared food. His wounds never lacked dressing, and he had never awoken from a faint without a caretaker already at hand.

He had never been more determined to fight for them, tooth and nail.

What was another blow to his pride? Redbark saw the fight in him withdraw- for now- and decided to let it lie. They would be graciously allowed back to work without further incident. Halros had taken on the punishment meant for Rollo Burrows. He would not see a stumbling, exhausted older hobbit beaten. He’d challenged Redbark before the overseer could approach and menace poor Rollo. The blow had been swift, and Halros had not been in top shape for some time. But take it he did. And he would take it again.

Petunia hovered by his side a moment as he got back up, then stayed around to monitor the loading of the cart for the return to the surface. She would stick close for the time being. It was the way of these work crews, their way of thanking him he supposed. Not as if he needed the thanks. Rangers were used to doing thankless jobs, protecting the free peoples and doing what was right as long as they were able.

Diminished though his assignment was, the Hobbits of Scary were his to protect. Halros held onto a last shred of hope in his duty.

There were no tweens to ferry back this go around. Halros and his shadow saw the cart to the mouth of the cave, where another team of hobbits got it unloaded. Wilcome Tunnelly had once again become quarry supervisor. He directed less experienced hobbits in their tasks. Scary and Brockenborings alike had been conscripted to various duties, and those with prior experience had either been singled out or volunteered. In Wilcome Tunnelly’s case, he had stepped forward in an attempt to run the quarry as safely as he could. At the very least he was able to convince the overseer before Redbark that his way would reduce injury and keep the quarry at maximum capacity.

“Wait here a moment.” Wilcome directed him, his gloved hands dripping dust, “We’ve got tools to send back down and it’s more efficient to do it in one trip.”

It would give him a moment’s rest. Halros leaned back against the stationary cart and closed his eyes. The day was cheerier than any of them felt. The oblivious sun shone brightly over a land steeped in misery. Perhaps they were all lucky the day was not so hot. There was precious little shade in the main bowl of the quarry. What trees that had once circled the outside had been cut. There was no shade in sight save for in the overseer’s hut.

He’d long since lost his cloak for want of clean bandages. Now he was dressed like most of the others: in whatever he could work in, patched as best as he was able. He thought back to his kin, recalling the pride in the Rangers’ stitchwork. Another, more recent memory bubbled up. A hobbit lass had threatened to sew him a new shirt and burn his old one if she could only guess his size. If he had looked a sight before, he could only assume everyone was too polite to comment on his appearance now.

“I don’t know how!” Petunia’s harsh whisper brought him back from a daze he hadn’t realized he’d entered. She sounded distressed, and Halros wondered what had befallen the quarry hobbits since he’d last seen daylight.

“It’s all we can do to protect him.” Wilcome had returned. “Goodness knows what’ll happen if we can’t keep this up.”

Something had happened while he was gone, Halros was sure of it. He could practically see Petunia’s huff when she responded. “He’s like one of the tweens. Redbark knows we daren’t step out of line when he’s on the crew! But Rollo was so exhausted. You should’ve seen Redbark’ face after he struck him. Looked right at Rollo as if he didn’t feel guilty enough-“

Halros frowned in confusion. Rollo Burrows was a regular on this crew. He’d been in hot water a few minutes ago, but had he been in trouble before? And Rollo wasn’t a young hobbit by any stretch. Why did they consider him like a tween?

His thoughts were muddled, but Wilcome’s response struck him like an orc arrow. “We’ll think of something, Tuney. There’s got to be a way to protect poor old Halros better than this.”

His thrumming mind ground to a halt. But Wilcome and Petunia were on the move. There was no time to weigh the words and their implications now that the tools had arrived. He let Petunia do the talking and took his place behind the cart in silence. Halros felt numb in a way he hadn’t before. He had been under the impression his service to the work crew was a boon, a chance to shield them.

But the overseer didn’t see it that way. Halros had been summoned from the Watch Office at random, sometimes days or weeks apart. He hadn’t known the first overseer, but Redbark had brought the Ranger forth soon after taking command. Halros began his first day in the quarry by standing between an overzealous guard and… and… Tess Bolger? Tim Burrows? He remembered a tween crying out. He did not remember thinking anything, only diving into the middle of it and making the brigand angry enough to forget the original incident.

Halros was dumbfounded. He couldn’t listen as Petunia guided him back through the cave. The hobbits were his charge, they were his duty to watch over. It nearly made him sick right there in the tunnel. The people he was fighting to protect were being threatened with his life. The hobbits he thought he was aiding by taking on their captors were being coerced with a different kind of punishment. The Overseer knew he would throw himself into harm's way for them.

Perhaps he hadn’t realized the true shrewdness of Cliff Redbark. He wasn’t an extra laborer. All this time, he’d been an incentive. Why beat several workers and lower productivity when just one would volunteer?

Despair struck him between the shoulder blades. He was supposed to be their last line of defense! What was he now, other than one more tool for the enemy? His legs failed just like the rest of him. Halros slid to his knees, unhearing, as Petunia called back in alarm. Unable to face her, he turned away. He felt like weeping! Aragorn and Mithrandir had gone too far to help him. The Grey Company had taken their bravest heroes, those willing and worthy to follow Halbarad. What would they say to this? They would die in service to their King, and he would die a pawn of the enemy-- hurting his beloved Shirefolk as much in death as he had in life.

Petunia was shaking him now. “You must get up! Please… Let me help you to your feet before they see you!” Had they been forced to shield him before? He was a far better fool than a tween or a faunt, than those weak or old who would learn from threats and fall in line. No, he was a pig-headed Ranger too proud not to play right into Redbark’s schemes. What an act of intimidation to see the one who should watch over them brought low.

He tried to hide his face once more. The shame and dread were heavier than any stone. In a way he had built his own prison. And now he found he could not stand to look upon the very outcome he’d fought so hard against.

Despite her pleas, Halros could not do as Petunia wished. When they were found, when a guard hauled him up by the collar and began shouting threats he did the only thing he knew to do. He fought. He swung and clawed like he always did with no sense of self-preservation. Another guard joined the fray and he didn’t stop. It was selfish. It was cowardly. Through the pain Halros wondered if he’d ever been anything else.

Someone finally hit him over the head. For just a little while, he did not have to live with himself.

There was no light in the Watch Office at night.

The windows remained boarded and the office portion of the building stood empty as Halros languished in the cell. He had awoken alone and sobbed as he had not done in years. Help was not coming for them as he had hoped. His limbs were stiff and burning. His right arm throbbed more persistently than the rest and he feared it had been broken. But worst of all, he’d been left alone with his thoughts.

What use was a shield that had been broken? What good could a sword do once turned against those it had once protected? He laid on the floor in silence. At least he could not hurt them if he was locked away. In the dark of night, Halros did not know if he could sleep. There seemed to be no end to this moment of weakness. No sun peeking through the clouds, no proverbial light of day. All he had around him were the proofs of his failure.

That night he worried more than he ever had for Bounder Primstone. He had thought his little friend peculiar for taking things into his own hands, for standing bold but untrained against wolves and goblins and brigands. Foolish but brave. But it was as Mithrandir had said. Hobbits were stronger than they looked. All of his attempts to fight for them came to naught, for they had done just as well fighting for themselves. Better, perhaps, if there were other groups of rebels out and about.

But all this time he had fought for a failing hope, not daring to think what would happen if he stopped. Now it had happened. Now he could not hold out as he had done before. Knowing how he had been used was the killing blow to his hope. He had lost the fight long ago without ever knowing it.

Sleep fled from him as well. At some point the sun decided once again to rise. Halros did not know what to do with this new day and remained where he was. He waited. It could be anywhere from days to weeks before he would be brought back to the quarry, and now he knew why. He wouldn’t be filling in for an injured hobbit as he had assumed. While he did not know how he would face the hobbits of the quarry, the more pressing revelation would be the broken arm. Even if he was a prop he had been a useful one. Could he stand to do less than nothing now?

No one came with food or orders. He had thought he'd heard a horse and cart on the road, but nothing had come of it. Late in the morning he had gotten up and found a more comfortable arrangement for his arm. He had no blanket to fashion into a sling, but a sleeve would work just as well for the time being. Autumn must be approaching though it was a problem for another day.

The young Ranger faced a different kind of chill as the day stretched into night once more. The pain in his heart was growing distant while the hurts in his body remained. At some point he must have slept, for he awoke in a less comfortable position on the floor. There was no bread and water shoved through the bars.

For the first time since seeing the knife at Primstone’s throat, Halros knew he was afraid.

He held his arm still and kept his eyes fixed on the door. The pain was less if he didn’t move, if he tried not to think about it. His other hurts had long since made themselves known. There was not much to do about any of them. Morning came again but no one had appeared. Fear had a firm hold on him now. They were leaving him again. He was to be abandoned to a burden he couldn’t bear, doomed to failure against an enemy too large for him to fight--

Halros had never known horror like this.

Weak and weary, his trepidation only grew as the sun went down. The orange of the sunset would soon be lost to the hill behind him, and the slits in the boarded windows never let in the moon. Darkness was coming for him, as it had already come for his kin. Halros closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He didn’t want it to end like this. He did not want to die alone.

There was a single, clear shout outside. His eyes flew open as others followed. The orange sunset had been replaced by the yellow of flickering flame, of torches. Someone was coming. If he was to die, at least he would not perish in the dark.

A clang, and the room echoed with the sound of lock tumblers turning. The door thudded open. Before him appeared two hobbits, one holding a torch and the other carrying several loose keys. Their eyes were as wide as his, surveying him as he surveyed them. His gaze caught on one of them, on the White Tree shining proudly on his chest.

Had he any tears left, Halros would have cried.

“There you are!” The torch-bearer and older of the two hurried in, letting the light flow into the cell. “You must be Halros. We have looked high and low for you.”

He was struck dumb, forced to simply watch as the younger hobbit- the one wearing the symbol of Gondor- began trying keys in the lock. “We’ll have you out in just a moment! They’re all terribly worried for you. But don’t worry. Frodo and I are here now.” The one that wasn’t Frodo tossed aside the key he’d been trying. “I beg your pardon! What I mean to say is I’m Peregrin Took, and this is Frodo Baggins, and we have come to rescue you.”

Halros continued to stare as a frown grew on Frodo Baggins’ face. The older hobbit held the torch further aloft with a look of concern. “We are glad to have found you.” He glanced at Peregrin and then back to the Ranger. “It may take him a moment. Do you think you can have some water?”

Not knowing what else to do, Halros nodded. With a grimace, he eased himself closer to the bars. Frodo produced a waterskin and offered it out. It was then he noticed the hobbit was missing a finger, which was unusual. He would not say anything even if he was able to. With a trembling hand he reached out for the water.

Peregrin threw away another key while he drank. The young hobbit gave him a tight smile. He seemed older than his years, and it occurred to Halros that if he had been all the way to Gondor, it only stood to reason.

“If these had all been on a keyring it would’ve been easier!” Peregrin chuckled mirthlessly. He tossed aside another key. “I fear I shall have to break this lock. But break it I will if I must!” he added hastily. Frodo accepted the water skin when Halros was done, but instead of straightening up he took the Ranger’s hand and held it. These were hobbits touched by hardship and sadness, he could see it in their eyes.

But these were hobbits who had come to save him.

Heart pounding, Halros finally worked up the strength to speak. “The others… the ones in the quarry and the camp, are they-”

Frodo nodded quickly. He looked tired. “They are all safe. When the brigands fled, they left most everyone unharmed.”

Peregrin had gone through all the keys and was now taking the tip of his dagger to the lock. “I’m not half as good at this as Nita.” he murmured before catching himself. “But I’m plenty good, and they haven’t replaced our old Shire lock. Your Bounder Primstone never had to hold anyone here I suspect.”

“Primstone?” Halros alarmed Frodo by trying to stand suddenly. “He is my friend. Have you seen him?” He was unsteady, but bolstered by a hand at his elbow reaching through the bars to support him.

It was Frodo who answered him. “Yes, we found him at the same time as another friend of ours. He is doing as well as any of us.” That was a sentiment for the times. Halros gave the hobbit a fright when his knees threatened to buckle. Leaning up against the bars, he felt the lock finally disengage.

Peregrin bolted into the cell. He took over holding the Ranger’s good arm from Frodo and was surprisingly strong for his size. Standing, Halros could see that Peregrin might be the tallest hobbit he had ever seen, now that he thought about it.

“Come outside if you can. Slowly now, Frodo may have a hard time catching you holding the torch as he is.” Halros did his best to keep his feet. “They’ve set up an infirmary next door. We have a whole horde of hobbits asking after you, Primstone included! A good many of us came into town for you and the others, driving the last of the brigands out as we went.” His voice became very solemn. “The night is over, and they won’t be troubling you again.”

Night had, in fact, just fallen, but Halros only grew lighter. He stumbled alongside Peregrin until they reached the next smial. Halros barely had time to wonder why only two had been sent for him when they were suddenly swarmed by hobbits. Frodo and Peregrin ordered them back with the help of two others Halros didn’t recognize. They managed to clear a path to an empty bedroll that the Ranger sank gratefully onto.

He didn’t have time to fully lie down before a body shot from the crowd and latched onto him. Another worn and weary hobbit held him tightly, and he was overwhelmed by an emotion far stronger than pain.

“Oh Halros, my friend! You don’t know how glad I am to see you! Are you well? They kept me prisoner in Michel Delving with the rebels, but we’ve been trying to escape. My poor friend! I’ve been so worried for you, all the way out here without me to watch over you--”

If anyone else stayed he did not know it. Halros ignored his other hurts and wept into Primstone’s shoulder. It only reignited the Bounder’s worry but he could not stop. Relief swept over him so completely that he was incapable of feeling or doing anything else then. It was truly over. Despite everything, help had come and it had triumphed over the shadow that had held them captive for so long.

“You’re going to be fine now, you take my word for it.” Primstone’s voice quavered just above his head. “I’ve told the others to stay back until you’re well again. I’m staying right here though! Unless you don’t want me to. Then of course, I can wait somewhere else-”

Halros shook his head and managed a shuddering laugh. “You do not know how glad I am to see you. I thought you lost… I thought the Shire lost, that no help was coming.”

Another hand came to rest on his shoulder. It belonged to Peregrin, who spoke to him gently. “Many of us thought as you did, Ranger Halros. But the worst is over. Help has come.” It looked as if he was in another place, his words meant for another time. But they were true and Halros was grateful. “You’ll have plenty of time to rest now. We’re hoping to get word to your kin in the north any time now. Dear Nita said she knew some good folks up there who would come to help.”

Halros’ brow furrowed slightly. “Nita? You mentioned her before but I do recall knowing a hobbit lass… Her name was something like that… She is a burglar of some renown now?”

Peregrin stifled a laugh. “Something like that, though she would blush to hear you say so. Nita’s a good sort, and been through as much as we have. She’ll be glad to hear you’re well when she returns.”

Bounder Primstone chose this moment to notice the sling and exclaim in horror. “Dear me! Why didn’t you say you were hurt? We’ve brought a healer from Michel Delving and she’ll need to see you straight away. Now don’t fuss with me, my friend, I’m staying put. You’ve got someone to take care of you now.”

Halros’ face became pinched again after Primstone had turned, and Peregrin saw. The young hobbit with Gondor’s colors paused a long moment before speaking again. “I do not know you, not really, and I suppose you don’t know me either. But I’ve heard a thing or two. All the folks in the quarry were talking. They said you’d tried to cover their escape at the start, that you never let the guards lay a finger on them even after you were black and blue…”

The Ranger’s head still hung in shame. Peregrin didn’t know. He hadn’t been there, or seen what had really gone on.

“They said you never gave up, even when some of the rest of them had. That you never stopped fighting on their behalf. Every hobbit that could walk was nagging at our heels to come break you out.”

Finally, Halros had to look up. “I did not do enough. They used me… I couldn’t protect anyone.”

Peregrin’s face softened. “You gave them some hope, even if you did not have any yourself.”

Before the Ranger could really go to pieces, Primstone returned. The Bounder looked stricken, and was quick to herd the healer closer to the bedroll. “You see! He’s getting worse every minute. Oh, I never should have left! What’s this Took been saying to you, Halros? Well, I’m sticking around for good. Unless of course, you need something to eat! In which case, I’ll hop right to it and make sure you get something real hearty and wholesome. And over dinner I can tell you just what’s been cooking elsewhere! Ha! Cooking, you see, while we eat? Some more hobbit humor for you, my dear friend-...”

The shadow had not yet fully retreated from the Shire, but the light had returned. Healing would come. It wasn’t there yet, but for the first time in a long time they had some goodness to cling to. As the healer began to look him over, Halros cast his eyes around the room. It was full of smiles, full of tears. All around him were hobbits who had not come through unscathed, but had come through nonetheless. They had not always triumphed. They had simply never given in. Now they had a reason to carry on in spite of it all.

Halros had never known hope like this. And this was a hope he could live for.

#*screams*#ok so i've come to grips with it if it's not good but my big fear is lack of knowledge in Real Canon #i did a lot of googling!!! i tried very hard #screw it if it's garbage-- it's MY garbage!#but woe be to me if i like hecked some major plot point from books #priorities #anyway #speculative lotro fic

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pendragonfics · 4 years

Text

homebound

Paring: Thranduil/Reader

Tags: female reader, elf reader, plus size reader, set during The Hobbit, elf culture & customs angst and hurt/comfort

Summary: Reader, in the company of the Dwarves of Erebor, finds herself in the company of her One; King Thranduil

Word Count: 1,647

Current Date: 2020-09-12

Though the dwarves spoke Elvish, with you alongside the Company aided their efforts in more than translation. Though you appeared young, your heritage hid the passage of time well. At over five thousand years old, you had seen much bloodshed, hatred, pain and strife as the years went by. Though your whole life was not full of pain, there was the reason you were not with your people for so long.

After fleeing the circles of your society, Gandalf the Grey took you in. The wandering wizard had no paying profession. Yet you spent your time alongside him, learning and growing. But mostly, it was attempting to avoid the pain of being separated from your One.

The sight of the dwarves and Mr Baggins riding ahead of your steed day after day never grew upon you; each morning, they would mount, and you would all ride toward the Lonely Mountain. Perhaps it was the novelty of watching them clamber onward like children. It could be your allyship to their noble cause. But mostly, deep inside your heart, you knew it to be the knowledge that you were returning home to the woods where you were born.

Through all the obstacles the troop faced, you all persevered. But as you all neared closer and closer to the Mirkwood woods, the memories of your exile so long ago resurfaced. Neither the Dwarves nor Mr Baggins asked for your story, for which you were glad. But there was something painful for you in returning home.

You were five thousand five hundred years old, and while most Elves lived longer, none in the circles of the elite you lived in looked like you. Ever since you were a child, your body was different. Doubts of your lineage permeated your family, called into question to your status and the validity of your title. It seemed that the society that you came from was against you but not the King's son. Thranduil.

The memories came to you in dreams and wreaked your sleep with their subconscious power. When the land was younger, and you both too, his hair was braided, and he would smile more. He sang, and ran, and made mischief as anyone would.

But with the passing of his father, the world seemed darker, scarier. Forced to crown him young, the council of elders passed the title upon Thranduil's shoulders. Early into his kingship, he kept his facade of happiness, just for you. The mischief became intimate. He no longer sang, but recited poetry and legislation to your awaiting ears. He wore a crown made from the woods and wore his hair loose for your fingers to weave within. And when no one looked, his lips would find yours, and all the cruel fate in the world would fade away for fleeting minutes.

A proverb states that when an elf falls in love, their heart remains with their One. While you had resigned to a life without returned feelings, it shocked you when one night your chambers were entered by palace guards. The Elders had found out; you, the imperfect, could never be the sovereign by marriage. The guards, on order from the Elders, abducted you under the disguise of starlight and displaced you from your home.

At this point, you would wake, panting, and muffle your cries beneath your fist. The fire would be dying in the early hours of the morning, and the last on watch would be blinking sleep from their eyes. As your party neared toward the woods, with Gandalf fleetingly by your side, you felt the grief returning to your conscious self.

The moment you saw the spider, your blood froze. Though you had grown in these parts, never had you slain one of these native foes. Sword at the ready, you slashed at the behemoth before you. One felled, two, but the third beast reared, venom spurting from its fangs into a wound. Crying out, you raised your sword, prepared for death. But the blow never landed; Elvish steel rang against your sword, and quickly, the remainder of the Spiders fell.

The relief of your life remaining your own never settled, however. The presence of other elves meant only one thing. Carried out in shackles, you silently shared the sombre feeling as your companions. It was not long before you found yourself behind Elven bars, imprisoned from your compatriots. Throughout your years, you had spent innumerable hours thinking of a reunion with your One. But never had you, in all of your musings, think it would be like this.

It was not long before more guards came, and silently, they unlocked your cell and escorted you from your friends. Already down the hallway, you could hear their cries, pleas against your removal. If only you had spoken in confidence about your history with these woodland elves to your dwarven friends. But that was the past.

Soon enough, you felt the familiar hallways entwine the passage, as comforting as a womb. Brought into the throne room, you felt the memories resurface once more. Before they could fill your mind, however, the throne came into view; and atop it, sat a familiar face. Time had not ravished him. Thranduil looked the same the last time you had seen him; long white hair, his gaze distant, the elegant attire. Though your hands were shackled still and held behind your back by your escorts, you felt them well with a will to reach for him.

"As soon as I heard of your return to the forest, I cannot lie, I was intrigued," he broke the silence that lingered in the vastness between you. From on high upon his throne, he shook his head, "after all these years, here you are. Home."

"I have no home! For that, your people made sure of," you spat.

At that, the guards tightened their grip upon your shackles, and uncomfortable, you fought back. Instantaneously, they released their grip, looking to your King, you saw why. Descending from his throne, you watched as Thranduil waved a hand your way, with no words spoken. The guards, though not unlocking the manacles that bound you, released their hold upon you. As he made his way closer, you observed another signal, to which left you and you King alone.

You felt your heartbeat beneath your skin, beating faster by the second. Despite all the years thinking of this moment, never had you anticipated it like this; returned in shackles, like a stray animal to your home.

"My people?" he asked.

You tilted your chin his way, your anger getting the better of you. But as quickly as it washed over you, it receded. Breathless, you looked to him, hurt.

"Oh, Thranduil, my love..." you whispered. "You never knew, did you?" You feel a wash of shame now, and though still bound, you turned from his gaze. "The elders. I heard them speaking; I had destroyed your chances of love."

"But you were my love," he growled. "And you left me to wander Middle Earth as you pleased."

You still cannot look at him. He radiates such power, such poise, and you cannot help but feel like you are inferior, despite the feelings you have harboured for so long. Your breath catches, and silently, you feel tears fall against your cheeks.

"It was against my will to leave Mirkwood. To leave you," you whispered. "It broke my soul to leave your presence. The elders forbade my return."

"And yet, here you are." He states.

It is now you look to him. Your face is shining with tears. Yet you refuse to look away now. "Against my better judgement. I was travelling with a troupe, only to be abducted by your soldiers." You fight against the restraints, their clanking noises filling the empty air between Thranduil's lips and your own. "Release us, and we will no longer be a burden to your court."

"You are in no place to make demands."

"And you are in none to scold me for things I did not do." you retort hotly. "I spent so long doubting myself, taking myself apart for others. Hating my body and wishing myself to be better for others. I didn't leave. They expelled me." you looked at Thranduil. "Before you scold me, punish your council."

A beat passes. The sound of elves vocalising in the distant halls catches your ears, but Thranduil does not speak. Silently, he takes something from his sleeve and reaches for your hands. No words are said as the chains fall.

"So I am not your prisoner?" you ask him.

"You do not understand what I have gone through in your absence," he sighs, his fingers tracing around the marks on your wrists. "I was married, then widowed. I became a father, as well."

"Congratulations, my King," you half-bow, as tradition expects of you. "And I apologise for your loss."

His lips turn up at the corners, ever so slightly. "I might have gone through so much pain, as you have too," he says, his fingers now interwoven with yours. "...but it has led us here. Together once more."

"Fate is strange," you hum. "...but I cannot stay, Thranduil. I have pledged myself to the cause of the Thorin Oakenshield, the heir of the Lonely Mountain."

He flinches. "To remove the wretched Smaug from its clutches, I assume?"

You nod and bring his hands close to your chest. His skin is cold and smooth. "Yes. Until Thorin is crowned King Under the Mountain, I am bound to the cause."

"Well," he says softly, lips brushing against your brow. "I suppose that I too am bound to the cause, for the best interest for my people."

"Until then...I must bid you adieu, my King." you release your clasp on his hands, and step backward, from his reach. "I have a dragon to slay."

#Thranduil #King Thranduil #thranduil oropherion #thranduil x reader #thranduil/reader #the hobbit x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #chaotic--lovely #pendragonfics #Female reader

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legolaslovely · 4 years

Text

It Can Wait

A/N: Hi friends! This started as something to help me get rid of my little Fíli block (which SUCKS because I LOVE him with all my heart????), and I ended up really liking it! I hope you guys do too! :)

Pairing: Fíli x Fem ! Human ! Reader

Word Count: 2,847

Warnings: Fluff, talk of violence and injury, talk of blood, major character with a minor injury, nakedness (?), but like, respectful nakedness

Summary: Fíli runs to (Y/N)’s rescue at a rather inopportune time. ;)

“Lay down your packs. We’ll rest here for the night.”

Before Thorin even finished his sentence, the company of dwarves and their hobbit dropped their packs as if they were full of builders’ bricks. The resounding thump of bedrolls and clinking of weapons falling to the ground would have been enough to wake the nearest orc pack if it hadn’t already attacked the travelers earlier that day. Luckily the enemies were somewhat defeated and mostly evaded by the comrades. The skirmish did come with its casualties, but besides a few ripped packs with one gone and lost to the wargs, the injuries were survivable and would heal in a few days, according to Oin’s gruff but medically sound opinion.

(Y/N) walked to the far side of the rising camp and joined Thorin and his nephews instead of piling herself near the dwarves of the company who couldn’t bear to take another step. It seemed they’d rather plop where they stood, even if that meant sleeping on top of each other.

“Move over there, Bofur,” Bombur said. “Give a dwarf his own space, will ye?”

“Ye have plenty of space, what with ye losin’ yer pack to the warg’s mouth,” Bofur answered.

“Which wouldn’t have happened if ye didn’t run so slow!”

“Oi!”

And thus the bickering began.

(Y/N) dropped her pack on the ground where she could have some space to herself. Once freed, her aching arms stretched up over her head and her creaking back bent from side to side like a reed in the wind. She inhaled deeply, hoping to refresh her senses with some clean forest air but what she got was nothing of the sort.

That smell!

She coughed, she waved, but nothing completely dispelled the thick stink. One more sniff to make sure… and yes, that stench was her. Well, not exactly her. It was the black orc blood covering her tunic, the dirt under her nails, the sweat sliding down her skin and whatever the company shared for supper the night before. Nevertheless, that smell was indeed coming from her.

“I need to bathe,” she muttered.

“There’s a shallow river to the east. Not far,” Thorin said from behind her. She hadn’t realized he’d been setting up his bedroll so close to her as she complained about her… filth. “Go now,” he said. “Before it gets much darker.”

She nodded, going through her pack for some of her belongings. If she went now, she could wash her soiled and smelly tunic, fill her canteen, even wash her hair and still be back in time to share supper before it disappeared.

“Where are you going?” Kíli asked as (Y/N) loaded a smaller bag of hers with her washing utensils.

“To the river. I won’t be long.”

“You’re going alone?” Fíli asked, standing from his half made bedroll and wincing from the effort. Even he hadn’t been spared by the orcs today, having taken quite a blow to his knee. (Y/N) was convinced his limp was the reason Thorin called for camp before dark.

“I’m going to bathe so yes, I’m going alone,” she said.

Her fond teasing always left the tips of his ears stinging red.

“Do you think that’s the best idea?” he asked.

“I won’t be far. And I always have a dagger on me,” she said with a wink as she slung her bag over her shoulder and made for the river.

Kíli leaned to his brother’s ear, eyeing the weapon that hung from (Y/N)’s hip. It caressed her leg like a friendly cat with every step she took into the woods. “Always, always?” he asked. “Where does she keep it?”

“Use your imagination, Kíli!” she called over her shoulder.

Fíli saw the wheels chugging to life and wildly churning in his brother’s mind and smacked him.

“Oi!” Kíli barked.

Fíli listened to (Y/N)’s distant laugh and shoved his brother’s shoulder once more before returning to his bedroll. He flattened it out over a patch of long wildgrass which made for the softest sleeping place he’d had in weeks.

Moving himself to sit was a challenge with his throbbing knee, but it was one that came with a just reward. He kicked his leg out in front of him and leaned back on his hands, not in a rush to dig the crumbs of dry food out of his pack for his supper. No, he’d sit for a moment and let his mind go blank for the first time since the night before.

“Ye expect me to sleep on that little sliver of roll?”

“Yer lucky I’m sharin’ me roll with ye at all! Yer the one that lost yer pack!”

“ ‘Cause I was watchin’ out for ye!”

“Oi!”

Fíli cracked one eye open and rolled it at the spectacle. As the rest of the company spread out from their lazy pile, the grassy area dwindled, leaving mud moats and pebble piles as the only free space on the edge of the camp. Fíli had marked his territory, as had his brother and uncle. (Y/N), however, ran to the river so quickly she’d barely dropped her pack from her back, never mind set out her blanket.

“Kee,” he whispered. “See that little sliver of grass there?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

“Unroll (Y/N)’s bed for her, will ya? Right there. She’ll be left in the rocks otherwise.”

Kíli lolled his head and looked behind him, hair brushing the ground with his movement as he leaned back on his elbows. “S’too far away, Fee.”

“It’s right there!”

“You get it, then!”

Fíli had a trademark glare he saved for his little brother. Wide eyes threatened while thick brows sat like soldiers braced for battle; thinly lined lips could snap a command at any moment though his jaw seemed still and hard as stone. The glower wasn’t often unsheathed but even after seventy-odd years together, it was a weapon that still made Kíli tremble. Even now, he glanced again to the pack in question in order to avoid his brother’s steel gaze.

“What?” Kíli squeaked. “She can do it herself!”

“She’s not here.”

Fíli pushed himself to stand. The pain shot through his leg like an fiery arrow through his veins, exploding its target in the middle of his knee and sending shrapnel throughout. He winced, face scrunched up tight, as he limped to unclip (Y/N)’s bedroll from the top of her pack.

“You don’t have to baby her,” Kíli said.

“I’m not,” Fíli said as he rolled the thick blanket over the grass near his own. “I would rather not listen to her complain of her sore back all because you didn’t save her a place.”

“I wouldn't have to if she didn’t take so long washing her pretty hair.”

Fíli patted his handiwork and leaned close to Kíli to say, “Good thing you didn’t get up off your rear, then.” He dodged Kíli’s flying hand and chuckled at his little brother’s faked outrage. Then he stood, adjusted his belt and looked to the sky to judge the time. The sun was low, shining in the trees ahead and painting the leaves golden, the same way it shone at the crown of (Y/N)’s head as if she were a royal.

“She does have pretty hair,” Fíli said.

Before Kíli could shoot back an answer, his attention was pulled to a sharp cry echoing in the near distance. He caught Fíli’s eye and saw panic there.

“What was that?” he asked.

Fíli unsheathed his dagger and listened. Nothing.

“Stay here.”

Fíli disappeared into the eastern woods and made for the river. His injury was forgotten as he rushed through the trees, on guard for any lagging assailants waiting for him to approach. With each twig crunching step, he willed himself to slow down, make a plan, take in his surroundings, so as not to sprint full force into an enemy attack on his own. But the thought of (Y/N) in danger spurred him on. He rushed forth- forgot his training, his pain, his fear. His heart pounded in his chest as if attempting to break free from its cage and act as lieutenant.

His steps were mechanical, automatic. Green and brown whirred around him until he reached a clearing and saw blue. Then a shining dagger glinted in front of his chest.

“(Y/N)! Wait!” he said, arms shot in front of him.

“Fíli! What’s wrong?”

The land all around was empty except for the two of them. No enemy stood in sight and there was no evidence of a fight before he’d arrived. No blood, no weapons, and the only footsteps in the dirt were (Y/N)’s own. Her bare feet, tiny compared to his thick boots, led to bare calves, bare knees and mostly bare thighs, only the tops of which were covered with a clinging, wet tunic. Back to her feet his eyes went and he backed away, sheathing his dagger and looking anywhere except the soaked woman before him.

“Mahal, I’m so sorry. I thought I heard a scream and you were out here alone- my mind went to the worst. I really didn’t- this is no ploy to- I swear.”

“I believe you, Fíli.” She picked her dagger’s sheath from the ground and replaced her weapon. For a moment, he watched the soaked tunic adhere to her chest. Her hair shone with soap that slid down her neck, the bubbles making their way down over the dips of her collarbones and adding to the translucency of her covering.

She straightened. “I heard it too, but it was a fox. The pack made a kill just over the bank and celebrated so loudly I thought they were actually dwarves.” The corners of her mouth wriggled as she tried not to smile.

“You’re funny.”

“Thank you.”

She watched him. For his reaction? To pressure him into keeping his gaze to himself? To thank him for risking his life for her safety? He wasn’t sure.

“I’m also shivering and covered in soap, so if you don’t mind-”

“I’ll leave.” He turned back to the way he came, leaning a bit too far onto his sore leg. Despite his best intentions, he hissed in pain but the spare air vanished when a damp hand landed on his arm.

“What did Oin say about your knee?” she asked.

His hand clamped onto hers. “I’ll be crooked for a few days, but it should heal just fine. Nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to run through the woods on either.”

A breeze blew between them. She shook with a chill that ran down her spine and took her hand away from his.

“You are shivering,” he said. “I’ll leave you as you asked.”

“Actually, I just meant to ask if you’d turn around so I can rinse off. Then we can walk back together. Wouldn’t want any foxes to attack you in your weakened state,” she said, biting her lip to stop from laughing as he shook his head.

He watched her back into the water, expertly dodging slippery, sharp rocks, until the little ripples reached her knees. She never took her eyes off his, but cocked a brow as she fiddled with the hem of her wet tunic.

“You should probably turn around now.”

“Right.”

He dutifully and respectfully spun, holding his breath to listen to her laugh. Her tunic landed on the rocks near his feet with a wet slap while the river water splashed and encased her in its embrace. If he closed his eyes, he’d be able to see her leaning her head back into the waves, revealing her neck and the swell of her breasts until her flesh disappeared below the surface. If he closed his eyes, he had the chance to imagine things he shouldn’t be picturing about his comrade.

So he looked up into the trees to count the birds or the leaves or the branches- something that would take his attention away from the completely bare woman right behind him. Then he saw her extra tunic hanging dry, still stained dark grey and maroon from their skirmish with a small orc pack that afternoon.

“That’s your only spare tunic up there?” he asked.

She hummed. “I can’t seem to wash the orc stench out of it, but it seems I’ll have to wear it for the night as my other one won’t dry in time.”

“I have an extra you can wear.”

“Oh, no, I’ll make do.”

“Nonsense,” he said, retrieving the wet tunic-ball and hanging it over a branch. As he sniffed the stained one and winced, he said, “Rip this one up for rags. You’ll need some for cleaning and mending as we go on. This wet one will dry, but until we can get you another spare, you can take mine.”

He dropped the rags-to-be by her bag and slid out of his outer layer. As he shed his clothes, he started to regret his decision. But asking her to choose between freezing overnight and sleeping in orc funk wasn’t an option. His fingers shook as the rustling of the water grew higher in pitch and her steps turned from small splashes to light pats over the dirt.

“That’s generous of you. Thank you.”

He pulled his tunic over his head and held it out, only seeing her by his side when he ran a hand through his braids and set them to rights. She’d slipped into her trousers and though she’d squeezed the water from her hair, stubborn droplets ran down her smooth skin and over freckles that were newly formed from long hours in the sun.

“You’re welcome,” he said, turning away as she dressed.

It wasn’t long before she landed before him, long tails tucked in and bunched in her trousers and laces tied under her neck.

“Well, then,” she said. “Ready to fight off some foxes?”

Fíli chuckled as the sleeve she’d pushed up to her elbow fell back down and over her wrist. “Indeed. Maybe we’ll find something for supper on the way,” he said as he neatly rolled the extra fabric up her arm the way he knew she liked it.

“Anything would be better than whatever your brother caught for us last night.”

“Not a fan of mystery meat?”

“Not when it smells like that,” she said.

When the pair grabbed everything they’d brought with them to the river, they started their way back to the camp. The sun had set but there was still a residual light radiating from the sky and through the trees. The purple twilight illuminated the path which Fíli had made much more prominent with his previous run through the woods. Mighty bear jokes were passed back and forth as (Y/N) noticed the broken branches and large bootsteps left in the dirt.

Fíli wrapped an arm tight around her shoulders and pulled, making her topple into his chest and giggle even more.

“Knock it off,” he said, words warped by his wide grin.

“Fine, fine. But seriously, Fíli. I’m honestly quite offended by what you’ve done tonight.”

He stopped her in the path, eyes wide and deep with regret. “(Y/N), I promise, I was not at all trying to sneak some sort of peek. I really thought you were in danger-”

“No, not that. All this time I always thought I had a rather pleasant voice. Now you say I sound like a yowling fox. It hurts me a bit.” She headed back to camp without him, leaving him stunned into place in the middle of the woods. “More than a bit, actually,” she continued. “I think you’re going to have to think very hard on how to make this all up to me. If we want to stay friends, that is.”

Two giant, limping steps later, he was close enough to take her in his arms and kiss her, as he’d wanted to do for months. And unexpectedly, magically, thankfully, she returned his embrace. Her fingers were cold on the nape of his neck but his tunic was warm around her body. Up her back and into her hair went his thick fingers, opening her to him and pulling her lips even closer. He sighed, a mix of her scent and his, her hair oil and his soap, and every bit of him swelled to capacity with pride and affection. Finally.

He drew away just enough to take in her face. Her eyes were still closed, and slowly, a smile grew on her pinked lips. She hummed and looked at him.

“That’s a good start,” she said.

“I’m glad you think so.”

Her smile spread into a bright and beautiful grin and Fíli could only return it. He shifted against her and felt her arms wrap further around him in support.

“We should get you back for some rest. Your knee-”

“Can wait,” he said, taking her chin in his fingers and running his thumb just under her lips. “It can wait.”

He kissed her again, pain and worries gone.

***

Taglist: @emrfangirl @misslongcep @raindancer2004 @ladybugg1235 @xxbyimm @burningcoffeetimetravel @fire-flv @nerdbirdsworld @dashesofink @teagarages @dreams-of-wander @winchesterandpie @bluebellcotton @tumblinglringlring @fxngsfogxarty @specialagentsnark @afeistyfairy12 @queenofmankind @karlthecat15722 @sagabriar @marymegger @aidan-kili-mitchell-forever @c-s-stars

#fili #fili x reader #fili x human!reader #fili x fem!reader #the hobbit #the hobbit fandom #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #dean o'gorman x reader

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sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose · 4 years

Text

Bofur x reader | Reciprocation

Summary: Bofur teaches the reader how to whittle and begins to flirt with her. She, however, doesn't know how to respond so Bofur thinks she isn't interested.

"So, lass, that's how ye do it." Bofur said after showing you how to whittle a bird out of wood.

"Alright then," You said while trying to whittle your own bird, but it just looked like a misshapen wooden block you could find out in the nature. "Ah, lass, don't ye worry about, practice makes perfect."

"I guess that's true," you said while still staring at the mutated wooden block, "well we got enough time to practice, don't we?"

"Aye that we have."

~~~

After Bofur taught you the basics of whittling you kept yourself busy by whittling whenever you had free time. You wanted to make something for Bofur as a token of appreciation, but everything you made wasn't good enough for a gift.

"So beautiful, I see your practicing," Bofur said as he plopped down next to you (lmao I almost wrote plooped).

"Ah yes, it keeps me busy," you answered with a light blush.

The flirting started after that night, Bofur complimenting you and making you blush and shy.

The sun could never outshine your smile.

You are more beautiful than Mahal's jewels.

The compliments were endless, but you were too shy to say anything in return so you ducked your head and blushed.

But one day Bofur's behaviour changed, as in, he didn't say anything to you and he avoided you. It hurt you so much your heart clenched. You had gotten attached to the sweet and friendly dwarf.

The Company looked disappointed and acted a bit gruffer and colder towards you. Bombur wasn't as friendly anymore and looked a bit sad towards you and you began to suspect it might be something with Bofur. Did you do something wrong? Probably...

While you were getting stressed by the Company's behaviour towards you, your whittling skills bettered and you thought it would be enough to finally make a gift. Unbeknownst to you, in dwarven culture it is seen as a courting ritual.

While walking you stayed in the back hoping to find good wood for your gift, hoping the dwarves in front of you wouldn't notice. The hobbit however noticed and knew what you were planning because you confided in him. Bilbo explained it might have been your lack in reaction whenever Bofur complimented you. After a while you find a good piece of wood and keep it in your pocket.

In the evening you sat away from everyone so you had privacy. You whittle a little wooden pickaxe (he told you of his mining days) and made it a necklace by tying it on a leather strip.

The next day you wanted to corner Bofur so when he went to gather wood you silently sneak after him. Trying to avoid any twigs or pointy branches you followed him deeper in the forest.

A twig snaps beneath you and he turns around, his eyes widened as he saw you. Bofur avoided your eyes and tried to walk away from you.

"Wait, Bofur", you run to catch up with him.

As you make eye contact, your heart breaks when you see the cold look in his eyes. You immediately grab the necklace out of your pocket and present it to him. You were scared he was going to avoid you and you weren't going to get another chance anytime soon.

"I do not know what I did to make you avoid me, so I wanted to make something for you to show that I-I'm sorry for w-whatever I-I did," you said as your emotions got the best of you, you felt like a part of you died the first time Bofur just sidestepped you and the rest of the Company glared at you when they thought you couldn't see them.

You looked at your feet and picked on the ends of your coat, too afraid of his reaction. Warmth filled your face from embarrassment and tears began to burn in your eyes. You just wanted things to go back to normal.

"Lass...," Bofur began, "do ye know what ye just did?"

You looked up to see a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Uhh, I- uh no?" You said extremely confused, tears brimming the corners of your eyes.

"Well, ye just asked me to court ye, lass, it's a dwarven courting custom," Bofur said chuckling a bit.

"A-ah uhm..." You were at a loss for words and beyond embarrassed.

"Don't worry, ye didn't know, so it won't mean what ye don't want it to mean," the hatted dwarf said after seeing you struggle to find the words, "I know ye don't want to court this ol' dwarf." He added that while looking a bit sorrowful, you noted.

"N-no, that's not it, I want to court you-, "you stuttered out before you could stop yourself, "A-ah uh I mean uh-"

As your face felt hot from embarrassment you dropped your head and covered your eyes. Tears threatened to pour down your face as you felt your arm being pulled away from your face.

The toy-maker gazed adoringly in your eyes as he put a hand on your cheek. "Then what is it?" He asked with a soft voice and a mildly teasing grin as he figured out your secret.

Tears began to form in the corner of your eyes. "I missed you..." You muttered while looking in his hazel eyes. The dwarf smiled brightly as he wiped away some stray tears on your face.

"Did my flirting make ye uncomfortable, lass?" The sweet dwarf asked with concern, "I thought ye didn't like me 'cause..."

Knowing exactly what he was talking about you cut him off.

"Bofur... I just didn't know how to react to your flirty comments. I was really flattered and all but please don't let my social ineptitude stop you from flirting with me...," you said desperately while grabbing his hands.

"Alright, my beautiful gem," Bofur said with his gaze full of adoration and love which made you blush, "so... I know how I feel about ye so I'll just say it now. I love ye more than there are stars in the skies and I wan' to properly court ye so that I can wake up with ye in my arms tonight. Will ye let this old dwarf court ye, lass?"

"Yes," you said with the brightest smile you could muster, "I love you too Bofur, with my whole heart."

"Will you let me braid your hair?"

Remembering Balin's words as he once explained Dwarven braids, you were elated to hear thos words from Bofur.

"Of course, Bofur," you said as you thought nothing could destroy the happiness you felt in that moment.

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warrioreowynofrohan · 3 years

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Today in Tolkien - January 17th

On the Fellowship’s second full day in Lothlórien, they finally get to take off the blindfolds, reach Cerin Amroth, arrive at Caras Galadhon in the evening, and meet Galadriel and Celeborn.

In the morning they went on again, walking without haste. At noon they halted, and Frodo was aware that they had passed out under the shining Sun. Suddenly he heard the sound of many voices all about him. A marching host of Elves had come up silently.

Yes, even a small army of elves can move so silent that Frodo doesn’t notice them - even with his intendified senses post-Weathertop, and even with the fact of being blindfolded increasing his focus on his hearing. Even hobbits’ move silently ability has nothing on elves.

The elven army report that the orcs pursuing the Fellowship have been largely destroyed and the remainder have retreated towards Moria and are being pursued; that they had seen a strange creature along the banks of the Silverlode [Gollum]; and that Galadriel and Celeborn have said that the Fellowship do not need to be blindfolded.

Also, I may need to correct my earlier statement that Haldir saying, “We have not had dealing with dwarves since the Dark Days,” referred to the Fall of Doriath in the First Age. That’s still a possibility, but not the only one.

[Haldir] removed the bandage first from Gimli’s eyes. “Your pardon!” he said, bowing low. “Look on us now with friendly eyes! Look and be glad, for you are the first dwarf to behold the trees of the Naith of Lórien since Durin’s Day!”

Durin the Deathless (Durin I) was King of Khazad-dûm in the First Age. But Durin VI - the one for which the balrog is named Durin’s Bane - was King of Khazad-dûm in the Third Age 1731-1980, and Appendix B says that in T.A. 1980, the year after the balrog kills Durin: The Dwarves flee from Moria. Many of the Silvan Elves of Lórien flee south. Amroth and Nimrodel are lost. So that, rather than a First Age grievance against an entirely different group of dwarves, may have been what Haldir meant by the Dark Days, and it’s a possibility (though it doesn’t seem likely, given that Celeborn in the Second Age - during the War of the Elves and Sauron - was unwilling to pass through Khazad-dûm even under imminent threat of Sauron) that there was sone friendship between the Elves of Lórien and the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm prior to the awakening of the Balrog.

The Fellowship are beside the mound of Cerin Amroth, covered in yellow elanor and white niphredil, and crowed with the two rings of trees, the outer with white bark and the inner the golden mallorn. In the centre is a high tree that was once the dwelling of Amroth.

Here Aragorn goes into a reverie:

The grim years were removed from the face of Aragorn, and he seemed clothed in white, a young lord tall and fair; and he spoke words in the Elvish tongue to one whom Frodo could not see. Arwen vanimelda, namarië! he said, and then he drew a breath, and returning out his thought he looked at Frodo and smiled. “Here is the heart of Elvendom on earth,” he said, “and here my heart dwells ever, unless there be a light beyond the dark roads that we still must tread, you and I.”

This is where Aragorn and Arwen became engaged 38 years ago (when Aragorn was 49 years old); and it is where, many years later, after Aragorn’s death, Arwen will come to die.

The Fellowship rest all afternoon at Cerin Amroth, and arrive at Caras Galadhon a little after sunset. We can conclude that the elves of Lothlórien are a little bit nocturnal, since typically lazing around all afternoon and then showing up at night isn’t how one goes about meeting monarchs.

The sun was sinking behind the mountains, and the shadows were deepening in the woods, when they went on again...Night came beneath the trees as they walked, and the Elves uncovered their silver lamps. Suddenly they came into the open again and found themselves under a pale evening sky pricked by a few early stars.

The Fellowship come to the hall of Celeborn and Galadriel and speak with them, including of the fall of Gandalf. Gandalf is in fact not dead at this point; he is still fighting the balrog deep beneath Moria.

Galadriel tests the Fellowship to understand whether they are still all determined to go on, even if by turning back they might gain something they greatly desired. Sam tells what he thought of - “a nice little hole with - with a bit of garden of my own,” and the dash in there is indicating that he just stopped himself from saying “Rosie Cotton” alound. We know in retrospect that Boromir wanted the Ring. Aragorn likely thought of a peaceful life with Arwen, Frodo of going back to Bag-end and living in peace. I would like to know what Merry and Pippin wanted, as they’re young ‘uns still and don’t seem to have had any concrete plans for their lives.

#tolkien #the lord of the rings #aragorn #aragorn x arwen #arwen #galadriel #gandalf #samwise gamgee #gimli #lothlorien #today in tolkien

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lilxberry · 3 years

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Underestimated - Thorin’s Company

Requested by: @iwazoomingouttahere

I think this is how I request haha, could I have a Thorins company x reader where she’s the youngest so they assume she’s not a good fighter so they’re all shocked when she takes out a whole orc pack basically on her own? I loved all your other imagines and now I’m rambling haha sorry.. 💕

You’re the first person to request something, I’m so happy, thank you

Warning: Fluff. Moody lil’ reader. Mentions of violence. Mentions of blood. The company being absolute smothers. That’s it I think (not too sure if I used any curse words, pretty sure I didn’t this time.)

Words: 1,770

Pairings: Thorin’s Company x Reader (female reader) (young reader)

_______________

Being the youngest seriously sucked. You had at least expected it from the dwarves, but for Bilbo to undermine your capabilities had truly flabbergasted you. ‘HE CAN’T EVEN LIFT AN ACTUAL SWORD!’ The bitter thought was loud as it bounced around in your head.

You trailed behind the company, minus Gandalf who, once again, disappeared to Mahal knows where. You kicked every rock and stone that were unfortunate to be along the path you walked. Your head was down as you mumbled insults about each and every person that walked before you.

“Bunch of elf loving, lettuce eating idiots.”

Granted, your insults were never too harsh when spoken about the people you’ve come to care about and travel with, but they had seriously infuriated you to know end. “Stupid Dwalin and his stupid bold head with his stupid axe, getting in the way of my kill.”

Fíli and Kíli slowed their walk until they fell behind enough to join your side, Kíli on your left, Fíli on your right. “Who are you cursing under your breath now, little mouse?” The older prince spoke as Kíli slung his arms over your shoulder.

“Yeah pipsqueak, why so moody?”

You huffed in annoyance and threw his arm off of your shoulders then folding your own across your chest, picking up speed, forcing the brothers to follow you. “Nothing.”

Fíli and Kíli snickered at your grouchy attitude and rolled their eyes, picking up their own speed to re-join you. “Now, now, don’t get your undergarments in a twist.”

You clenched your jaw and bit down harshly on your tongue, refraining from saying something you may regret to either of the two. Just as Fíli opened his mouth to say yet another snarky, teasing remark, Thorin announces that they were to stop and set up camp.

You breathed out a sigh in relief and quickly headed towards the opening that you’ve come across and proceed to slide your knapsack off of your shoulder and place in on the floor, pulling out your bedroll and setting it up ready for later that night.

Thorin gave orders to everyone, Bombur and Balin to sit tight whilst the others go collect wood and hunt for meat. You marched over towards Thorin with a determined step, chest puffed out, oozing confidence. “What do you want me to do?”

Thorin turned his gaze towards you and flashed you a small smile. “Don’t worry, go sit and read that book of yours, relax.” He ruffled your hair as he walked past you. You let your shoulder slump as you sighed in defeat, trudging over towards your bedroll, sitting down cross legged, elbows rested atop your knees and your face held within your hands.

‘Bloody dwarves.’

_______________

You and the others sat around the fire, an amber glow illuminating each member of the company as they ate the rabbit stew Bombur had prepared with the help of Balin and Nori. They roared with laughter, but you sat there silently, not wanting to partake in their boisterous manners and jokes.

“What’s the matter lass? You tired?” Bofur spoke, drawing the company’s attention towards you.

“Are you tired? It’s fine if you want to head off to sleep.” Nori added, everyone curious if that was the reason for your unusual quietness.

You huffed in annoyance and set your nearly empty bowl of food down by the side of you with a thud, shocking some of the members. “No. I am NOT tired. No in the way you may think.” You uttered the last part of your answer quietly, fed up with how overbearing and annoying yet oblivious they were being. You stood hastily and began to walk to the treeline. “I’m going for a stroll.”

The other members were left stunned by your little outburst as they watched you quickly retrieve your weapon before disappearing beyond the trees. Just as Dwalin stood to go get you to return to camp, Balin placed a hand on to his brothers’ arm, stopping him from following you.

“Let her go, she clearly needs some time to herself.” Of course, Balin was just as concerned as any of the other members but knew Gandalf had chosen you to join them for a reason. Plus, they wouldn’t be far behind if you found yourself in a spot of trouble.

Dwalin grunted something unintelligible as he plonked himself back down beside Balin, still keeping an eye on where you exited the clearing and entered the darkened woods.

_______________

As you wander through the forest, weaving in and out of trees, you cursed the dwarves and even the hobbit under your breath. You leant against a large tree, trying to calm your breathing and will a sense of peace to take over, but all you felt was anger.

Anger towards the dwarves. Anger towards the hobbit. Anger towards Gandalf. Anger towards yourself. Just pure anger.

You closed your eyes, listening to the serene sounds of the woodland area when all of the sudden, a snap of a twig pried your eyes open faster than the crack of a whip. You rolled your eyes, assuming it was your overbearing companions. “I swear to Mahal…just leave me be.”

You noted the silence that followed your statement causing your eyebrows to furrow. You stepped forward from the trunk of the tree and walked to peer around it. That was when you came face to face with a Warg, an orc sat atop of it.

Your eyes widened, the stench of its breath overwhelmed your sense, fear sunk in and overtook your body. You forced yourself to take a few steps back. The beast snarled. You slowly raised your hand and gripped the hilt of your sword tightly as it took a few steps towards you.

The further you stepped back, and the closer it stepped towards, more and more orcs upon Wargs revealed themselves. There had been at least 7 by your rushed and panicked count. You swallowed down the lump in your throat, bringing your other hand to grip your weapon.

Just as the Warg lunged towards you, you unsheathed your sword and swung at its throat, cutting down your first attacker. As the Warg fell and the orc crashed to the floor along with it, a loud pained cry came from the beast as its final sound.

The volume of the cry had been so loud that the sound carried all the way to where the company had set up camp. Everyone was up and alert, already heading towards the forest, weapons in hand, purely concerned for your safety.

“Y/N!” The members called loudly, each panicked, unknowing of your whereabouts apart from the occasional scream, fearing that one of them may have come from you.

“Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU?!” The fear that they couldn’t save you grew, making them more irrational in their choice of direction. They had all spread out, splitting off in different directions, all in the hope of spotting their youngest member.

They searched and searched until finally, Bilbo had spotted you. “SHE’S OVER HERE!” He shouted over towards his companions who soon barrelled towards the direction he was in. But once arriving and witnessing the full extent of the situation, they all became slack jawed and wide eyed.

There you stood, over an orc that scrambled to get away, surrounded by its fellow attackers. You buried your sword deep into its chest, therefor ending its life. Wargs and orcs littered the ground surrounding you, all dead and bloody.

You heaved for breath, chest rising and falling as you took in your surroundings. You were covered in blood also, though majority of it belonging to your enemies. Another twig snapped and you whipped around with your weapon raised in front of you.

But unlike earlier, you were met with the sight of 13 dwarves and a hobbit. You relaxed, sighing as you let your arms drop, sword stained with blood lowering along with them. “Hey guys.”

The company had become rather speechless to what they had just bear witness to. Their youngest, most “fragile” member had just demolished an entire pack of orcs and their Wargs, all on their lonesome.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stared at them, a feeling of uneasiness settling in the pit of your stomach. “Uh-what’s wrong? Hello?”

Thorin stormed straight towards you, so much so that you even flinched slightly at his sudden movements. Once he stood tall before you, you shrank into yourself, expecting a loud, gruelling lecture about heading away from everyone, but he pleasantly surprised you when he grinned down at you and brought you into a hug.

You froze slightly, unsure of what to do. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He spoke, although you could hear the proud grin through his tone. You smiled ever so slightly as he broke away from you.

“It appears we had underestimated you lass.” Balin spoke, earning nods and hums in agreement from the others.

“YOU’RE TELLING ME??!!” You exclaimed loudly, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

The others chuckled, a grin forcing its way on to your own face. Thorin put a hand on your shoulder and directed you towards the others. Dwalin slapped your back, making you lurch forward. You brushed your hair back which fell in front of your face from the sheer force of his pat and smiled up at him.

“Ye did good lass.” He spoke in his usual gruff voice, although an ever so small smile was present on his face hidden by his kempt beard.

“I know.” You placed your hands on your hips and walked past the group, heading back towards camp, confidence once again oozing off of you. The nights events surely boosted your ego.

Fíli and Kíli had quickly caught up towards you and bumped your side with their elbows. “Honestly, how did you do it?” You laughed and slung your arms over their shoulders.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow. I’m absolutely exhausted from being so badass.” You smirked and the others who trailed behind you back to camp laughed at your antics. “Maybe now you’ve all learned to be a little less judgemental when it comes to age.” You spoke, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

You removed your arms from around the boys’ shoulders and headed over towards your bedroll once you re-entered the clearing where camp was set up. “Goodnight lads.” And with that, you laid down into your bedroll and tucked yourself in, falling fast asleep soon after.

The others smiled at you as many followed your example, excluding those on watch. They were sure to never underestimate you again.

_______________

MY FIRST REQUEST AHHHHH

Honestly, I really hope I didn’t mess up too much with the story. I was a bit iffy about the ending but I really don’t know how I should finish it up other than what I’ve written

I hope you enjoy and I especially hope that this fits what the requester wanted!

As always, constructive criticism and requests are welcomed and greatly appreciated :D

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omgsquee2001 · 3 years

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Uzfakuh: A Kíli Love Story

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prologue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My dear Frodo.

Bilbo Baggins

lit a match, then used it to light a candle. He walked through a hallway in his house, carrying the candle.

You asked your Aunt and I, before she moved away, if we had told you everything there was to know about our, adventures.

Bilbo opened a chest that was set against the wall. He glanced down in recollection at his sword, which was in its sheath. Bilbo reached out to touch the sword. At the last second, he restrained himself and pulled out a large red book from the chest.

And while I can honestly say we told you the truth, we may not have told you all of it.

Sitting down at his desk and opening the book, Bilbo saw a drawing of himself when he was younger.

I am old now, Frodo.

Bilbo picked up the drawing and gazed at it, smiling lightly. He noticed another, larger drawing. The familiar hem of a dress caught his eye. He picked the other picture up. While his smile shone with happiness and remembrance, his eyes shone with a sort of sadness. He gently stroked the picture.

I’m not the same Hobbit I once was. And neither is your Aunt, where ever she is.

After setting the pictures down, he picked up his quill and dipped it into a pot of ink.

I think it is time for you to know what really happened.

He paused for a moment, thinking about what to write. He got an idea and began to write.

It began long ago in a land far away to the east, the like of which you will not find in the world today.

There was the city of Dale.

Its markets known far and wide, full of the bounties of vine and vale. Peaceful, and prosperous. For this city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom in Middle-earth: Erebor.

Stronghold of Thrór,

King under the Mountain, mightiest of the dwarf lords. Thrór ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure, for his line lay secure in the lives of his son

and grandson.

Ahhh, Frodo, Erebor; built deep within the mountain itself, the beauty of this fortress city was legend.

Its wealth lay in the earth, in precious gems hewed from rock, and in great seams of gold, running like rivers through stone. The skill of the dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby, and sapphire. Ever they delved deeper, down into the dark. And that is where they found it. The heart of the mountain. The Arkenstone.

Thrór named it the King’s Jewel. He took it as a sign, a sign that his his right to rule was divine. All would pay homage to him, even the great Elvenking, Thranduil.

As the great wealth of the Dwarves grew, their store of good will ran thin. No one knows exactly what began the rift. The Elves say the Dwarves stole their treasure. The Dwarves tell another tale. They say the Elf King refused to give them their rightful pay. It is sad, Frodo, how old alliances can be broken. How friendships between peoples can be lost.

"And for what?" Bilbo asked himself. He scoffed and returned to writing.

But the years of peace and plenty were not to last. Slowly, the days turned sour, and the watchful nights closed in. Thrór’s love of gold had grown too fierce. A sickness had begun to grow within him; it was a sickness of the mind. And where sickness thrives, bad things will follow.

The first they heard was a noise like a hurricane coming down from the north. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in a hot, dry wind.

It was a fire drake from the north. Smaug had come.

Such wanton death was dealt that day, for this city of men was nothing to Smaug; his eye was set on another prize. For dragons covet gold, with a dark and fierce desire.

Erebor was lost, for a dragon will guard his plunder as long as he lives.

Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the wrath of the dragon. No help came from the elves that day, or any day since.

Robbed of their homeland, the dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness, a once mighty people brought low.

The young dwarf prince took work where he could find it, laboring in the villages of men, but always he remembered the mountain smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing bright, for he had seen dragon fire in the sky, and his city turned to ash, and never forgave, and he never forgot.

Far away, in another corner of the world dragons were only make-believe. A party trick conjured by Wizards on Midsummer's Eve. No more frightening than fairy dust. And that, my dear Frodo is where your Aunt and I come in. It was the beginning of an unlikely friendship that has lasted all our lifes. But it is not the start of our story. For us it began…well, it began as you might expect. In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty wet hole full of worms and oozy smells. This was a hobbit hole. And that means good food, a warm hearth, and all the comforts of home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frodo walked out of one of the rooms in the house, eating a cookie. He looked over at his Uncle and smiled gently. Frodo walked outside and took our the mail from the mailbox. He walked back inside. Bilbo, who was laughing while writing in his book, quickly quieted down and cleared his throat. Frodo set the mail on Bilbo’s desk.

“Thank you.” He said. Frodo looked at the picture of Bilbo when he was younger. Frodo smiled as he looked down at it.

“What’s this?” He asked. Bilbo took the picture from the hands of his nephew.

“That is private. Keep your sticky paws off.” Bilbo said. Frodo then picked up the other, larger drawing. The drawing depicted a young lady Hobbit and a young Dwarf.

//Just imagine that the Dwarf is Kíli//

They held hands, twirling in a dance. Their eyes bore into one another. They held love and adoration.

“Is this Aunt Azalea?” Frodo asked tentatively. Talking about his Aunt was a sensitive topic for Bilbo, for he missed his sister greatly. Bilbo fell silent for a moment before nodding.

“Y-yes. That is, your Aunt.” Bilbo said quietly. Frodo looked at the Dwarf.

“Who is that Dwarf with her?” He asked. Bilbo took the picture away.

“The best and worst mistake of her life.” He said. Bilbo picked up one letter in particular that Frodo had brought in. Bilbo opened it and read it.

‘My dear Bilbo,’ the letter started out. Bilbo could still imagine her voice. Soft and kind. 'How are you, Brother? How is Frodo? Is he getting into trouble like his dear Aunt always did, or is he a more respectable Hobbit like yourself? Kíli and I are doing very well, in fact, we are expecting a child! Isn’t that wonderful news? Thorin is doing very well at ruling the kingdom. He has lessened his strictness on Fíli, letting him live the way he would like. The others have returned to their normal lives, making toys, baking, crafting, advising. Kíli and I will make sure to come to the Shire. I wouldn’t want to miss out on my older brother’s birthday. Thorin wants to come along as well. He wants to see how grownup Frodo has become. Be prepared for another Unexpected Party. The whole Company wants to come for your birthday. I pray that you are doing well. Happy birthday Brother. Much love, Azalea.’ Bilbo smiled. He set down the letter on his book, reminding himself to write back to his sister. He made his way into the living room and took out some poster paper.

“You know, some people are beginning to wonder about you, Uncle,” Frodo said, looking at Bilbo. “They think you’re becoming odd.” Frodo said.

“Odd? Hmm.” Bilbo hummed before returning to the paper he was working on.

“Unsociable.” Frodo added. Bilbo chuckled.

“Unsociable? Me? Nonsense,” he handed Frodo the paper. “Be a good good lad and put that on the gate.” Bilbo said. Frodo looked at it dubiously, but still did as he was told.

He nailed the sign to the front of the gate. It read; "NO ADMITTANCE EXCEPT ON PARTY BUSINESS". Bilbo came out and stretched. Frodo looked at his Uncle from the other side of the gate, smiling. He held a book, tucked under his arm.

"You think he’ll come?" He asked. Bilbo looked at his nephew.

"Who?" He asked.

"Gandalf." Frodo said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Bilbo smiled.

"Ahhh. He wouldn’t miss a chance to lit up his whiz-poppers! He’ll give us quite a show, you’ll see. I also think your Aunt is going to come, along with some friends who would love to see you." Bilbo said, smiling. Frodo’s smile grew. He loved it when his Aunt and Uncles came to visit. They always told him tales of how they reclaimed their homeland.

"Aunt Azalea is coming? Is she going to bring Uncle Kíli, Fíli and Thorin?" He asked. Bilbo chuckled. Frodo loved it when his Aunt and Uncles came to visit. They always told him tales of how they reclaimed their homeland.

"From what I read from her letter, she's bringing the whole group." He said. Frodo smiled.

"Right then, I’m off." Frodo said, heading off down the stone and grass path.

"Off to where?" Bilbo asked. Frodo stopped and looked at his Uncle.

"East Farthing woods. I’m going to surprise Gandalf." Frodo said. Bilbo nodded.

"Well, go on then! You don’t want to be late." Bilbo said. Frodo smiled and continued on, racing down, book in hand.

He doesn’t approve of being late. Not that I ever was.

Bilbo sat on his porch and smoked his pipe.

In those days, I was always on time. I was entirely respectable. And nothing unexpected ever happened.

#the hobbit #gandalf the gray #thorin oakenshield #kili #kili x oc

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problematic-weather · 4 years

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It’s Time [Thranduil x Elf! Reader]

Pairing; Thranduil x Elf! Reader

Fandom: LOTR, Hobbit

Genre; angst and fluff? i don’t really know what it is tbh

Word Count: 853

Requested by: @queenofmankind

A/n: It’s short but I hope you enjoyed it!!

Threads of life seemed to tug and pull on everyone often, testing the waters, watching one fall and another rise. It was often the story of many, those who lived, a short lifetime of mistakes and glories.

But to an elf, an immortal creature, despair could loom over the shoulders of anyone for eons, until came the time for them to fall as well. The story of monogamy, ceaseless loyalty to a fallen loved one, common for elves.

Unfortunately, both points stood strong for the King of Mirkwood. He seemed succumbed in pain, almost as if he relished in it. Isolation was a gateway, for him to anguish behind closed doors, barricaded from the heartless world beyond the sealed oak.

It was a bitter scene to anyone close to the King, for his son, Legolas, and for you. A female elf, a poignant companion to the King himself, heavily contrasting his current state. You weren’t exceedingly optimistic, you couldn’t, in your eyes, you were a realist with hope. Hope of which aided Thranduil since he was young, relieving him in his darkest times.

But now, it felt as if you failed him.

Your words could only ease him so much. Much more than others, yes, but it seemed that after his beloved died he had kept a wall before you as well. You couldn’t possess impatience with him, for you knew grief took longer to face with each individual. And for him, time was something he didn’t often think about.

The Elven King was alongside you as both of you took a stroll through the paths, staring at nothing but the path ahead. Every time you passed a guard, you gave a small wave, to which they cautiously returned before standing in their position. Once more, silence struck.

It gave you a bit of time to space out, to blank out and picture the garden before the gloom that radiated off of every living organism-- from the tips of the leaves, down to the sturdiest roots. Don’t be fooled, it still was marvelously majestic, but those who really knew the woods would understand… could sense.

“Is something troubling you, mellon?” The King inquired, startling you from your thoughts, you coughed nervously.

“It is nothing to be concerned of, sire.” You replied quickly, unknowingly holding your breath for a bit too long. Your eyes stayed in front of you as you watched Thranduil halt, turning his full attention to you.

“If I can recall correctly, I believe we made an arrangement you’d address me as Thranduil,” he noted, eyebrow raised. Well, that’s great. “You’ve only ever called me otherwise when you’re unease. So I ask again, what seems to be the problem?”

You shakily let out a breath as you gave him a sideglance, ignoring the thumping of your heart towards his mild concern.

“I am simply in my own mind,” you swallowed, “stuck in the past while wondering of the future.” You finished, watching Thranduil’s face begin to darken.

“That is a dangerous matter to think about, mellon.”

“Perhaps it is,” you started, finally gaining the courage to look at him straight into his eyes, smiling. “But don’t you think it’s daunting?”

“What is?” He responded almost immediately, genuinely perplexed about your opinion.

“Time.” You answered as if it was the most natural/reasonable explanation. Turning away from you, your attention was soon brought to a struggling tree, the buds barely growing but already beginning to wilt. Cradling the poor petals, you continued on.

“We’ve always been so entangled in the past, but it cannot be changed. We cannot rewrite our wrongs, our tragics, yet we dwell on them as if it was all we had left to do. Our future is an unknown, yet a perilous thing to ponder about… but don’t you see we’re shaping it?” You quizzed, seeking for some type of agreement from the Elven King, however, all that was returned was a hard, confused stare.

“Our future influences us just as much as the present, and if we dwell on the past…” you trailed off, picking the flower from the branch, watching it immediately wilt and decay in the palms of your hands. “Then we truly are lost.”

You gave Thranduil a kind smile, one of which was hard to muster. For years, you’ve seen him suffer, slowly wilting as time grew on. Immortality was praised, but from that came a sacrifice. You watched him, cared for him. Encouraged him as he fell deeply in love with another, despite the torment you dealt with within. You’ve loved him for as long as you could remember, and clung to loyalty…

As the sun began to set, rays of light peeking through the towering trees and landing on you, illuminating your sunkissed features as you extended your hand to him, slender and gentle.

“Thranduil, as a long friend of yours, I’ve come to admire you for years, ever since we were youthful. And that feeling only grew greater as time followed… but what I’ve wanted to tell you more than anything today was…

“It’s time to move on.”

#thranduil x reader #thranduil #thranduil imagine #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #reader insert #elf reader #lord of the rings #king thranduil #lee pace #one shot

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writingfromkitchenator · 3 years

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Fili ~ A (Not) So Wonderful Idea

1,300 Followers Challenge!

Masterlist

Requested by @fantasticallytragical (Thank you Tumblr tags)

Words: 1,251

Warnings: Female Reader, fluff, slight sexual references, brief mention of fighting, threat of parental figure disappointment

“Fili and Kili, watch the ponies. Make sure that you stay with them.”

You caught Fili’s slight sink in his shoulders, his gaze briefly meeting yours, even as you smiled empathetically. The two of you knew it would be like this, that the time you could spend with each other would be limited, and you’d warned Fili multiple times of it.

It seemed though, that Fili hadn’t quiet been prepared for it to be this bad.

You refrained from giggling as Thorin doesn’t miss the look, grumbling under his breath as he shakes his head and steps away. In his eyes, this had been a bad idea, and yet you still came along anyway, more than ready for whatever this journey was going to throw at you, whether it be grouchy future in-laws or dragons, you liked to think that you could handle yourself.

Fili’s reaction weighed on your mind, and you weren’t going to deny to yourself that you wanted some time alone with him too, so when, by chance, the opportunity came up to sneak away, you did so.

“Go on Fili,” Kili was saying as you approached quietly. “I can watch the ponies, it doesn’t take two of us. Go and find Y/N.”

“I can’t,” Fili said, exasperated. “If I walk out there, Thorin will think something is wrong.”

“Then get her attention, get her to walk away.”

“Oh, like that isn’t going to be obvious.” Fili grumbled. “No, I’m just going to have to deal with it.”

Kili sighs. “Fili, the two of you haven’t had any sort of break since all this started. Things are quiet, take the chance and go and see her, spend some time together.”

“I think that sounds like a wonderful idea,” You said, making both brothers jump as you step out, grinning at them. “Assuming you are more than capable of watching the ponies by yourself Kili?”

He snorts and grins. “Come on Y/N, give me some credit, I’m trying to set the two of you up again.”

You chuckle and then hold your hand to Fili. “Come on, before he starts rubbing that in our faces again.”

Fili smiles, his shoulders relaxing, and takes your hand, letting you lead him deeper into the woods, away from the others, no matter how much some part of him told him this wasn’t the wisest decision.

After a little while, he got tired of walking and pulled you two him, causing you to giggle as he quickly captures your lips with his, firmly pressing you against the nearest tree, a smile on his lips.

“Anyone would think you’ve been wanting to do that?” You teased as he broke away for a moment, making him chuckle softly.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Fili kisses you softly, letting his lips hover above yours. “I thought it used to be difficult to get you alone at home, but this takes the cake. Anyone would think that they don’t want us to be together.”

You rest your arms around his neck. “I think it’s more that they don’t want any unexpected surprises before we’re wed. We can’t have a royal scandal after all.”

Fili holds your gaze, before the two of you broke into giggles, foreheads resting against each other. “You’re going to get us both into trouble, I hope you know that?”

“Good thing I like trouble then.” You don’t let him answer that, instead pulling him back into a firmer kiss, one that quickly got away from the two of you.

It was as hands began to wonder towards the buckles of your armour, that a noise made the two of you stop and listen. Whatever it was, was large and moving rather quickly through the forest, until the unmistakable sound of terrified ponies reached your ears.

Fili groaned. “Oh no…do I even want to go and find out what happened?”

“And leave Kili to whatever that was?” You asked, making his face pale.

The two of you moved quickly, but by the time the two of you found out what was going on, the rest of the company was there too, having been called over by Kili, Bilbo in trouble with three monstrous trolls.

There was no missing Thorin’s furious look at the two of you, making Fili wince, but it was all pushed aside as the company leapt into action.

It didn’t exactly go to plan. While Bilbo was initially rescued, and he’d managed to rescue the several ponies the trolls had taken too, he then ended up recaptured, and all of you had to make the call on what to do about it. There was no way that you could let the poor hobbit die in such a horrible manner, so everyone laid down their arms.

Then it was your turn to be worried, watching Fili be turned over and over on a spit. Squirming in the bag did little, the knots tied far too well, and listening to the trolls discuss how they were going to exactly eat you all, wasn’t helping the anxiety levels. You regretted not being more careful, of letting yourself wander away with Fili; you felt that if the two of you had been there, this could’ve been prevented, at least to this extreme.

Thankfully, Bilbo ended up saving them all, distracting the trolls enough until the sun came up and Gandalf returned, a quick round of cheers going around as they turned to stone.

Once freed though, there was no missing the look of Thorin’s, and several others, disapproval.

Fili braced himself with a sigh. “Listen guys, listen, I wish I could make an excuse for myself, but I cannot. Take it out on me though, leave Y/N out this.”

“Fili-”

“No Y/N, it’s only because of me that we left Kili-”

“After I came and found you-”

“And I still went with you,” His look at you was determined, and you knew he wanted to take the full fall of this. “So this is my fault.”

“Or it could’ve happened anyway,” Kili piped up quickly, earning a look from Thorin. “Honestly, I don’t think it would’ve helped even if all of us had been there.”

There was a tense moment, Fili almost thinking that his brother was going to cop a mouthful as well, before Thorin sighed and looked back at the two of you seriously.

“Just please be more careful,” he grumbled. “There is a time and place for everything, just as there is a reason that we go on watch in pairs or groups.”

Fili nods slowly. “Yes Uncle, it won’t happen again.”

Thorin nods and walks away, dropping it, quickly making the several other unimpressed dwarfs huff and shake their heads, quickly following after him.

Fili lets out a slow sigh of relief. “I thought we were done for.”

Kili grins at him. “He wasn’t going to argue when he knew I was right.”

You can’t help but chuckle at this and the spark of mischief in Kili’s eyes. “Careful what you say next Fili, his head might just grow a bit bigger.”

Fili grins. “Like I don’t know my brother by now, I’m not going to give him that satisfaction.”

Kili pretends to look hurt. “You two are spoiling my fun.”

“Are we? What a shame.”

“You can join the club of disappointment for the day.”

Fili looks at you and starts laughing, one which you quickly join in, Kili unable to help his grin, even as he shakes his head.

#1300 followers challenge #the hobbit #fili #fili x female reader #short #drabbles

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centuryofdean · 3 years

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When Lightning Strikes - Chapter 19

Author Note:: So sorry for such a long update! COVID depression is no joke.. I have had a lot of lows lately and I haven’t even been reading fanfiction let alone writing it. Or reading in general. Things are a little better the last few days, so I am hoping this is a good start to get things finished.

Author Disclaimer:: The Hobbit, Middle Earth and its characters are not mine. I take no credit. The story line and even some dialogue–also not mine. Instead I claim my Original Character Laurel and the adjustments to the story line.

Summary:: From when Laurel Took was small she dreamed of a man. Every time she dreamed of him, he could not see or hear her. Over time they are able to communicate–but he’s been dreaming about her too. Finally after years of anticipation Laurel takes the leap and kisses him. Only for her to wake up and dread the real world. Then lightning strikes and she finds herself in a familiar place, with a familiar face.

Rated:: M for Mature. Please do not read this story unless you are 18+. NSFW.

Warnings:: Language, Violence and Scenes of Sexual Nature.

Pairing:: Kili x OC (Laurel)

Laurel

Bard led us through the house and into a small room. Singrid was the one to clear the bed and start to close all the blinds. At this point soft moans started to flee from Kili's throat. "Shhh," I murmured pushing his hair back to press my hand to his burning forehead, "it will be alright soon. I promise."

There were dark bags under his eyes in high contrast against his pale sheen skin. It was a terror to look at. His hair was already half soaked in the sweat. Fili was pressing his hands over various areas on his brother's body. "I need my bag," I shouted out to no one in particular. "There are herbs in there that could help."

Bard fled the room and slammed back in through it with a box full of different vials and sacks. "I have Elderberry and Burdock," he started to hand me the items. Bain stood in the corner watching fearfully as his father continued to sort through the box. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Kili twitching and grunting more loudly.

"Bain," I called softly. The teenager took a few steps towards me. "I need you to go to the Master's house and get Thorin Oakenshield. He is the Master Dwarf with blue eyes and loose black hair. Tell him that Kili is sick. Tell the hobbit Bilbo Baggins that I need my bag. Hurry, please!"

Immediately the boy turned and fled. If nothing was damaged in my bag I should still have a bulb of Kings Foil. "Bard, I need a pot ready. Do not put water in it, I have soaked water to use, I can't dilute it," I placed a hand on the man's arm. He stood tall once more and left the room. The two girls were huddled in the corner digging through laundry.

A pained scream echoed through the room as Kili trashed harshly. Fili clamped both of his hands over his brother's shoulders as he continued to convulse. I pulled my fingers through his hair as I brought our foreheads together, "Shh, fight through the pain. I'm here with you, I'm not going anywhere."

It only seemed to calm him a fraction, but not enough to stop his erratic movements.

Soon the heavy thudding of running feet bellowed all around us and shook the house. The first face to enter the doorway was Thorin. Electric blue eyes blazed as they narrowed in on his nephew. Kili choked, his body bending and twisting more viciously. In two steps Thorin was beside Fili putting his hands on Kili to keep him from moving too much. Bilbo pushed his way through all the dwarves to get to me, bag in hand. I took my eyes off my dwarven prince to receive the sack and tear through it. Wrapped tightly and still intact was the bulb of Kings Foil. I carefully handed it to my distant uncle or cousin, "Bilbo I need you to open this and pour all of it into the pot that Bard has prepared. Once it is bubbling bring me the entire pot."

Moments passed until the room was crowded with more than it could handle.

"Everyone who is not immediate family go wait in the other room," Balin thundered. His deep commanding voice sent shivers down my spine.

Did that include me? I hesitated before moving, slowly making my way to the door. Snarling and the sound of a scuffle bounced around the room. "No Laurel, you stay," Thorin boomed.

My body moved at the command so that I was before Kili again. Balin was holding both of Kili's feet, Fili was holding Kili's right arm, while Thorin was holding his left arm right next to me. I got to work by taking my knife and starting to cut out his pants where the wound was. Breath left me, leaving me gasping at the sight of the black purple bruising covered in thick black blood. It smelled of decay and death, like a deer that was out in the woods for weeks. Each of the veins around the wound were thick and black. It was the poison working its way through his body.

His skin was scorching now, so much that I could barely touch him without hissing myself.

"Are you having the hobbit boil weeds," Bard burst through the room confused.

My brows scrunched as I shook my head, "Its Kings Foil."

"We feed it to the pigs!"

"Tell one of the dwarves I need more," I shouted.

Even with his family watching I placed my knife at his chest and tore through the material of his shirt.

It revealed more horrors of black veins. How long was he letting this work up before he said something? Even if he didn't know the arrow was poisoned he didn't have to pretend it was nothing! Self-consciously I sent him a glare. Even then his eyes were wild and wide, teeth grit while he starred on at me.

A roar of a howl screamed through his lips as he writhed against the hands holding him down. As softly as I could I placed my ear against his burning chest and felt the erratic beat of his heart. If it was pumping so quickly in that way he was working the poison closer and closer to his heart without even knowing it. Again I looked to his face, only to feel my own heart beat erratically.

This is what death looked like.

With my chest in my stomach and no air to fill my lungs, I trembled for a moment. Kili was dying. The burn in my eyes started, I couldn't live in this world without him.

Bilbo burst through the door with a steaming pot. Once he sat it down on the table next to the bed I screamed as my hand met searing water. It didn't stop me as I scooped up the soggy weed and removed it. Without waiting or warning I shoved it into his wound.

He screamed inhumanly and vaulted off the bed. A few more dwarves popped their heads into the room and then entered to aid us in keeping Kili still. "Someone get me a mug and a rag," I screamed.

My chest actually hurt with how hard my heart was pounding, my hand throbbed with pain from the scalding water I put it into. Though without trying I was able to tune it out and become numb. Still my eyes were trained on his deep brown ones filled with pain.

Everything blurred until the only sharp image to focus on was him. Finally his eyes closed tight. I tore mine away, feeling the wetness of tears flowing down my face. It was as if my body was humming, I suddenly had adrenaline that I never felt before. I felt as if I could move mountains, but it was no use to me if I lost the love of my life.

His body slowly started to stop moving, I could feel him growing weak. My fingers pressed the Kings Foil into his wound a little deeper as I hissed, my lips trembling as my heart broke. "Esta sinome," my voice quivered. "Amin mela lle. Amind mela lle.

"Mela en' coiamin. Poika tuulo' 'kshapsae. Tula sinome. Tula sinome, Mela en'coimin, Amind mela lle!"

Something snapped. Everything became cold at once, goosebumps erupted all over my skin, even the skin not exposed to the air. All the adrenaline I had evaporated causing me to fall to my knees equally as weak. Just as I fell, hands still buried in Kili's flesh, he gasped, torso flinging forward as he came to sit. In moments he fell back into the bed eyes closed and even breathing.

My hands slipped to the bed as I tried to pull myself up. The strong arm of Thorin wrapped under my own as he pulled me up and held me. I put my ear to Kili's chest to listen to his heart beat slow and even. Trembling fingers wiped at the black mess on his thigh, pulling the Kings Foil away.

Underneath was a soft pink scar, surrounded by flush peach skin. There was no trace of bruising or poison filled veins.

Laughter bubbled up inside my chest as I was able to breathe deeply for a moment. The weight that settled on my chest was lifted and I gasped, tears flowing freely over my cheeks as I touched his cheek covered in stubble. His eyes opened, blurry and unfocused. The beautiful brown orbs settled on my face, his mouth moving softly, "No… you cannot be her. She is far away, she is far, far away from me. She watches and dreams of flying in starlight. She is of another world. No… you cannot be her... It was just another dream."

His large palm grasped my face, his hand sliding into my hair to grasp and tug gently on the courting braid he had put in there just mere nights ago. I was memorized as his lips moved again, the sound of his voice like a melody, "Do you think she could have ever loved me?"

The crooked smile I saw on rare occasions took his lips for a few moments before he rolled his face away and promptly slept.

Soon Fili brought a chair into the room, helping me into it because my legs shook too much to do it myself. Eventually Balin and Oin left the room, leaving me with the King and Princes. None of us said anything for a while, we just stared at Kili as he slept peacefully. Bard brought me another pot of water and a rag in which I used to clean Kili's thigh and leg from the poison and blood. At one point I had Fili hold his brother while I coaxed his sleeping form to swallow the warm Kings Foil water from before. Bofur had returned a while ago with more Kings Foil, that I instructed someone to make tea with. If I could get Kili to drink that for at least a day then it will cleanse his blood of the poison.

"Thank you."

I was startled out of cleaning Kili of sweat on his chest. Never have I heard Thorin sound so soft and genuine. In seconds the King was kneeling before me. Taking each hand in my own and meeting my eyes, "I am forever indebted to you. I owe you my life, and the deepest of all apologies.

"From the moment my eyes landed on you, I judged and treated you unjustly. That was my folly. Time after time you have proven me wrong in all my assumptions. Not only did you save my life and the lives of all in the company on more than one occasion, but you saved Kili's."

Tears started to collect in the brilliant blue orbs while the hairs of his mustache bristled.

"Lady Laurel Took," he continued, pressing his lips to each of the back of my hands, "You are brave, courageous, loyal, a huntress, and most of all loving. In honor of your acts, I name thee, Lady Laurel Took, kin of Durin's sons."

Kin of Durin's sons? Kin meant family but who was Durin and his sons? The confusion was evident, because he rose and placed a hand on my shoulder chuckling. Slowly I leaned sideways in my chair to look at Fili to see if I could get an answer.

The blonde prince light blue eyes were wide, his eyebrows almost into his hair. Even his bottom jaw was hanging softly. "Erm, that sounds pretty nice an all, but what does that mean," I whispered, looking between the two.

At once Fili jumped up, wrapping me up in his arms while he laughed, tossing me and catching me again.

"It is the highest honor a dwarf could receive," he shouted. "Even a higher honor since you are not a dwarf!"

I tried my best to untangle myself from him, but he refused to release his grasp on me. Fili's form crushed me to himself, a warm tight hug. "Laurel, uncle is decreeing that you are a part of the royal family," he whispered, "you are not just a dear friend, you are family."

Once his arms fell away, Thorin opened his own and stepped towards me, eloping me in one of the most heartwarming hugs I had yet to receive in my life. As he pulled away he pressed his lips to my forehead, cupping my cheek all the while smiling, "Yes, you are family. I bless the courtship between Kili, son of Vili, and yourself. Once betrothed, I will perform the wedding ceremony myself."

After all this time I fought Kili. I finally accepted that I loved him, I accepted his courting braid. Still I grew weary all because of Thorin's wrath. Here and now he was telling me he approved. Giggles were leaving my lips softly. Joy like no other filled me to the brim until I could not stand still.

Soon I was holding hands will Fili and dancing around.

"I have a little sister," he bellowed before dancing away and out of the room. Thorin followed, closing the door behind him.

I settled down into the chair next to Kili again, barely containing my smile. Before I had never put thought into marriage with him if he asked, but it didn't sound like a horrible idea. From as far as I could remember it had always been Kili who captured my interest, it was Kili who I confessed my dreams and desires for eight years. The love I had for him would bring me to life without a soul if he were to perish. The only thing that waited for me in the future where I came from was my grandmother and mother. All of whom I never had time to see or speak to.

No I belonged here now, with Kili in Middle Earth.

The youngest girl of Bard entered the room hesitantly, offering me the tea I had requested they made. I accepted it and place it next to me, "Thank you. Do you happen to have hair ties? Maybe three or four of them?"

She returned in moments with a handful. I thanked her again and sighed, tracing Kili's side with my hand. Just an hour or so ago I almost lost him. Now I was ecstatic with Thorin's blessing. With shaky fingers I tied the top of the braid that Kili put in my hair. He said I couldn't undo the braid, but he never said I couldn't cut it.

It took about an hour, and surprisingly no one entered the room—which was a good thing because I feared the wrath I would receive for what I was doing. With painstaking precision and patience I tied off the braid in my hair, cut it half way down, and wove it into Kili's hair behind his ear.

Just while I was re-clasping the bead with his hair in it, he groaned and started to stir. Once more my hands smoothed the hair from his face. "How do you feel," I asked.

"Weak and tired," he muttered. Without even opening his eyes, his fingers wove into my hair again stroking my scalp. His fingers searched for my braid, but stopped short when it wasn't found. That's when he snapped his eyes open.

"Did you take out your braid," he whispered.

"I cut it out."

Anger filled his eyes for a moment, "Could not bear to be bound to me?"

My hands found his, guiding it to his own hair where I had just finished his own braid.

"Just the opposite actually," I whispered. "I almost lost you Kili. It is a miracle you're alive."

His large calloused hand lifted up the elegant braid. It was a sight to see, his dark brown hair blending in almost seamlessly into my vibrant red locks. Different emotions filtered across his face. First he was angered, then bewildered, and finally he was beaming up at me with love.

"Kili I love you," I whispered leaning in close and grasping his hand, "I have always loved you. At first I loved the idea of you, because I didn't believe you to be real. Once I got here I knew that it was real. You were real, my love for you was real—"

Chapped lips were bruising against my own. I had no idea how he moved so quickly. One moment he was laying on the bed, watching and listening, and the next he pulled me into his lap and was kissing me with earnest. On their own accord my hands traveled his bare chest, sliding into his hair while he kissed me with devotion.

Once he pulled away for breath, he touched our foreheads together to look me deeply in the eyes.

"I have waited so long to hear you say that," he murmured, brushing his nose against mine to lean in and kiss me again.

It was natural how his hands fit perfectly on my hips, pulling me closer and holding me there. His lips trailed to my neck, causing me to feel light and fluttery. "Uncle has to let you stay in Erebor with us," he whispered, "I will make him see reason."

"It was already decided earlier she was welcome to stay in the mountain," Thorin's laughing voice came from behind me. Not wanting to be caught in a compromising position with his nephew, I jumped slightly and off the bed. Kili still kept his hand in mine.

"It was? When," he asked confused.

Fili popped his head in the room, entering when he realized that his brother was awake. He bounded over and crushed Kili in a tight warm hug. "You are finally awake!"

"The arrow that hit you was poisoned," Fili continued muttering, "you collapsed in the snow. I heard you and Laurel fighting, once I got there she was trying to get you up. Bard's son went to get the company from the Master's house. Laurel used Kings Foil to heal your wound."

At his words I grasped the tea and urged Kili to drink it. He made a face of disgust but drank it none the less. Balin had popped into the room next, looking equally as pleased to see Kili awake.

"Yes, if it was not for the lass and her Elvish healing magic we would have lost ya lad," Balin sighed.

Elvish healing magic? What magic? Kili looked at me with astonishment, but I shrugged my shoulders, "I didn't use magic, I just did what I learned from the herb book I was given in Rivendell."

Thorin shook his head solemnly, "You did as Balin said. We all witnessed it. You spoke Elvish as well."

"No. I was just saying anything I could think of to get Kili to not die. I told him to rest, and to come back to me. That I loved him and to heal."

The others looked at me with odd eyes, those of disbelief. "They speak the truth," Fili urged, "you were speaking Elvish. Perhaps your instincts came to surface when faced with fear."

"You even collapsed afterwards and turned a little blue. Cold to touch," Thorin supplied.

Either way I took Kili's hand and held it tightly. All that mattered was that he was alive with me, no matter how. He pressed his lips to the back of my hand and squeezed back.

"Afterwards Uncle apologized to Laurel, and bestowed kinship," Fili urged excitedly. Kili appeared more surprised than his brother when he heard the words left Thorin's lips.

Soon all the company came in to see Kili and wish him well. I stayed firmly at his side, not wanting to leave him quite yet. Bilbo even hugged Kili and wished him well. His eyes narrowed in confusing as he pointed to Kili's shoulder.

"Is that Laurel's hair," he asked.

Thorin pushed his way forward and grabbed the braid, inspecting and muttering to himself in another language.

"Welcome to the family little sister," Fili hollered.

Previous Chapter << Chapter 18: Likeness of One is Not the Other

Next Chapter >> Chapter 20: Accepting Warmth

#kili fanfic #kili fanfiction #kili x reader #kili x oc #kili durin #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #when lightning strikes #kili durin x reader #kili durin x oc

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