#thorin x ofc

[witchyhobbitess]

*Cookies and Crowns* edited

Sage just laughed as she passed the few dwarves already leaving for their midday meal out of the forges. They always teased her, asking if she had brought them anything to eat as well as the king. “Until you lot start ruling and smithing you will be on your own!” Sage called over her shoulder as she made her way over to Thorin’s work space.

“Any of that for us today Sage?’ Fili asked with a grin, tidying up his own space to meet Calanthia for lunch himself.

“Do I ever bring you an entire meal? No.” Grinning, she moved over to his space and handed him a small bundle of cookies. “I do always bring you treats though. Don’t let those spoil your meal or Calanthia will have my head!”

Fili kissed her cheek. “You are a wonderful friend, I’ll be sure to share with Calanthia and let her know you made them.”

Sage smiled at the elder prince. “Thank you.” Looking around she tried to spot Kili. “Did-“

“He left with Tauriel about a half hour ago.” Fili, knowing who she was looking for, finished the sentence for her. “She had a picnic in the woods planned for the afternoon.”

“Good!” Sage grinned conspiratorially at Fili. “Think he will finally ask her?” Handing him the spare bundle of cookies, she smiled as Fili began to walk toward Thorin with her.

“By the gods I hope so. If I have to hear him stress about one more gift or what if she doesn’t take him, I think I will go mad.” They laughed together as they walked further into the forges. “I wanted to ask Uncle what his thoughts are on a spring wedding for Calanthia and I. Do you think he will accept the idea?” Fili stopped and looked knowingly at Sage.

“Fili, you know I have no hold on that.”

Fili snorted. “Sage, you and Uncle are blind. You both love each other, just do something about it already!”

Now it was Sage’s turn to snort. “Young prince, do not make me kick your ass, again. Now, I will mention it to him for you if you’d like, get an idea on his thoughts before you ask him. Does that make you feel a little better?”

Fili grinned and kissed her cheek, “thank you Flower.” He teased. “We will see you at the family dinner tonight?” He asked, she always attended and helped his mother with these big company meals.

“I never miss it! Now, go see your fair maiden!” Chucking, she watched her close friend trot off to go meet her hobbit ‘sister’. Still smiling, Sage turned to finish her walk to Thorin and his work space. It was all too easy to spot the king pounding away at something. Thick ropes of muscle from all his years at the forges gleamed with sweat and dirt. He hardly ever forged with a shirt on-and she couldn’t blame him, these forges were sweltering! Good thing they were too, they kept the entire mountain nice and toasty. His long black hair was pulled back with an intricate silver clasp, only his braids framing his face swung free.

She watched as his face became more stern with his intensified focus, and smiled gently. Aye, his nephew was right, she loved the dwarf with all her heart, but the daughter of a god, part human and of very little dwarf blood would never be accepted by the people or the king. No, she would have to harbour her love in secret, and only be accepted within the mountain as she was. Smiling at the mere thought of being Thorin’s bride, she finished her walk to his space. “You know, my King. If you glare any harder at that piece, I think you could shape it with your frown alone.”

Thorin looked up to find the love of his life grinning at him, their usual lunch in the basket over her arm. “If only working steels like this was so easy, little one!” Chuckling, he placed his work aside and grabbed his shirt. “I take it you saw Fili and Kili since the spare bundles of cookies you always bring them are not on your basket.” Grinning at each other, Thorin guided her over the drawing table, forgetting the simple necklace design he was working on for her courting gift was right out in the open.

Setting down the basket, Sage noticed the sketch. “This is absolutely lovely.” Smiling, she lifted the parchment with two fingers to inspect it more closely. “Incredibly fine details, Thorin. And is that a rose cut emerald you plan to have in the centre? My, my! The dwarrowdamn that is to receive this will be a lucky lass indeed.” Smiling softly when she noticed he didn’t respond as he usually would, she encouraged him. “truly, Thorin, I think that will be some of the finest craftsmanship even I have ever seen. She would be a fool to reject such a gift and such a dwarf.”

Thorin swallowed thickly, this was only one of two gifts he intended to make for her-he had been shaping the other when she walked over to him. “You truly think so? You come from a place where jewelry is much more fragile. Your own necklace for example.” He indicated the thin silver chain and diamond white gold pendant that had traveled with her from her own world. “I would never be able to craft something so delicate with the tools we have here, and I remember you telling us how you prefer small things such as that.”

Smiling, she unpacked the sandwiches, wine, cups and treats. “Yes, but things have to change-just as my life has since coming here. And I think it is endearing that you are taking an idea from another culture and incorporating it as best you can into your own heartfelt piece of work. We may have been able to make exceptionally thin chains, but dwarves can carve what we would have to use machines for. Your skill far outmatches our own. Now, if I’m right-and when it comes to your days I usually am, since Balin and I plan them, you have been here pounding metal for four hours. Eat something before you disappear from lack of nourishment.”

Chuckling, Thorin tucked into his lunch. “Aye, you always do know how to feed a dwarf lass.”

“I would hope so. I have been helping to feed you for two years now.” She teased. “thorin, I was wondering-and don’t you dare tell Fili I said this!” Thorin laughed at her, Sage was always asking him questions for his nephews. “What do you think of a Spring wedding this year?”

“Aye? He wants to set a date for him and Calanthia?” He watched her intently as she smiled down at her vegetables, wondering where her thoughts were taking her.

“That he does. He knows if I ask and get an idea on what you think, he has a better chance of not getting yelled at or talked out of what he wants.” Sipping her wine, she smiled with her eyes over the rim of the glass.

Thorin sighed and rolled his own eyes at her pleading look. “He doesn’t get yelled at. I just mentioned that having a wedding while erabor was still being rebuilt was a bit daft.”

“I agree, it most certainly was-but you were about as delicate as a warg in a glass shop thorin.” Snickering, she patted his hand. “He forgave you though, and here we are-I am now a messenger for your nephews.”

“That you are, and you see me every day at lunch fr them as well.” Suddenly a thought hit thorin. “Do you not have anyone you would want to spend your free time with?”

“I do already, I spend it with you.” She teased back. “If I didn’t want to bring you lunch and spend time with you, I wouldn’t Thorin. Unless there is someone you would rather be spending your lunches with?”

“No!” THorin barked out, shocked she would think such a thing. “Durins beard Sage, no. If I am to be so bold, midday with you happens to be one of my favourite parts of the day-next to sleeping.”

“Good to know, King under the mountain. I am honoured to have you take such interest in such a humble woman.”

“Enough of your sass, small one.” He laughed. “Don’t tell me you gave all the cookies to my nephews either.”

Laughing loudly, Sage lifted the basted and pulled out two well wrapped stacks of cookies. “Have I ever let you down? Hmm?” Placing them on the table, she watched him eagerly open the first bundle.

“Icing?” He asked shocked. Azure blue eyes looking at her with wonder. “How did you manage such a feat? Did you not tell me it was an almost impossible task to make this here?” He inspected the two cookies placed together with a buttery coloured confection in the middle.

“I did. And then I thought of something new, tried it, it worked and now you are the first to get to experience it. I wanted to make them for a little bit of a celebration for tonights family dinner.” Sheepishly, she averted her eyes.

“You and your secrets.” He rumbled before biting into the sweet treat and humming in sheer delight.

#the hobbit #fili durin #fili and kili #new wip #hobbit oc #everyone lives au #hobbit au #everybody lives au #thorin x ofc #thorin #thorin oakenshield

[fellowshipofthefics]

The Thread of Life

Frosticenow, lathalea

Summary:

Thorin Oakenshield begins his question with a small token. The hand made handkerchief was a small memento from the dwarrowdam he had loved in secret. This was written for the Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2022. It is a collaboration with Lathalea, who created the beautiful piece of embroidery and prompt.

#the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #thorin x ofc #hobbit fic #frosticenow #lathalea

[abyssal-cryptid]

IT'S ALIVEEEE!!!! (Chapter one has been released to the public on ao3)

This fic is like 60k words I wrote it in little over two weeks and I am so proud I might cry

#the hobbit #lord of the rings #fanfic #thorin oakenshield #hobbits #thorin x ofc

[daughter-of-arda]

WM2022: Day 21--Pain

Summary: Ingrid gives up, and meets an unlikely ally.

Word Count: 700

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: back to masterlist HERE. Move to day 22 HERE. Also, 700 words. Couldn't stop myself.

——————————————————————————

Fili says no. He is the champion of their people, but he fears them. They are as prideful as they are secretive, and their admiration would quickly turn to disgust if he was to pursue her with anything more than acquaintance-like interest. They would never accept the love between a Dwarf and a woman of Men as true. 

The looks of pity she receives for the next weeks from he and the Company is unbearable, and the hour the frost breaks and the Misty Mountains are again passable, Ingrid packs her worn shoulder bag and redons her traveling clothes.

And thus the seventh evening of Thorin’s coronation celebration finds Ingrid outside the main gate of Erebor. While the frost broke, the chill lingered, and a violent shiver wracks her frame as she steps out from the warmth of the Mountain and shuts the little guard’s entrance that opens out on the far right of the gate. No one stops her. All are in attendance for the final day of celebration.

“It’s a cold night for a woman of Men,” a voice says, and from the shadows emerges Branna. Ingrid’s jaw tightens, and Branna’s gaze remains stern. She knows what she said, and she knows why she is leaving.

Branna is dressed similarly, and she looks remarkably Dwarvish with her hair tied back in multiple braids and the shadow of the Mountain across her naked jaw.

“You’re also leaving?” Ingrid asks, voice low.

“The contract is void. I’ve nothing to tie me to this place.” Branna’s voice is flat, emotionless.

“But Thorin—”

“Has no idea I’m leaving. None of them do.”

“He doesn’t return your affections?” Surprise colors her words. The quiet friendship between Branna and Thorin has been a constant during the Quest. Ingrid felt it was only some time before their friendship evolved to romance.

“He doesn’t know of them. He wouldn’t…I’m not what he needs.”

Despite hating the pity that came from others when her admission of love went unreciprocated, Ingrid finds herself pitying Branna. Having spent her entire life believing herself to be an unlovable, wretched half-breed, she’s decided it’s better to never know the King’s feelings than risk revealing her love and having her self-hatred confirmed.

“I am truly sorry,” Ingrid says.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I’ve made my choices.” Branna gestures to Ingrid’s bag with a nod. “As have you.”

“I have. I—I cannot stay here.”

“Where will you go?”

“Home. To Combe.”

“Yes. Your family is waiting.” Branna casts a final look at the Mountain. Her eyes rake up the twin guardian statues that flank the main gate, soaking in her last chance of a proper home.

Ingrid wonders where Branna will settle. She will not want to be in Dale, nor Lake-town. Both are too close. Dain Ironfoot of the Iron Hills is not fond of her, nor is she of him, so there is no option to flee east. The north is uninhabited and the south hosts only those of the race of Men, although Brana could pass for a stocky woman of Men if she shaved what little beard she possesses. To the west there is Rivendell, Bree-land, the Shire, and the Dwarvish settlements in the Blue Mountains. But only the latter is suitable for a Dwarf, even a half of one.

“Where will you go?” Ingrid asks.

“To Rockfells, most likely,” Branna says. “Or anywhere where I can live unbothered by the past.”

Her face suddenly crumples. She lets the pain of 150 years carve itself into her face, and Ingrid can only watch as stoic Branna weeps without pause, sagging against the Mountain she helped reclaim. After the worst has passed, Ingrid offers her handkerchief, and the other woman utters a barely-audible thanks.

“You can come with me, to Combe,” Ingrid suggests. “There’s no space in the farmhouse, but there’s plenty of good trees in the Chetwood and there’s always work to be done.”

“You would invite a half-Dwarf into your home?”

“I would invite a friend into my home.” Ingrid extends her hand into the open space between them. “Let’s go on another adventure.”

Branna nods and accepts her hand.

And together, they begin their journey westward.

#the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #fili #fili x ofc #fili x oc #oc #ofc #thorin #thorin oakenshield #thorin x ofc #thorin x oc #erebor #bree-land #daughter-of-arda #tolkien #middle earth #writersmonth2022 #writer's month 2022

[h00di3-00023]

∘₊✧ « The most precious treasure » ✧₊∘

#bagginshield #thilbo #bilbo is the treasure ofc #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #lord of the rings #thorin x bilbo #the hobbit #lotr #artists on tumblr #art #illustration

[velvet4510]

#nothing beats samfro #y’all are gonna need to explain yourselves #if you don’t pick them #i like bagginshield ofc #but they didn’t save the entire world with the power of their love #lotr #jrr tolkien #lotr books #lord of the rings #lotr ships #tolkien couples #samfro #frodo x sam #sam x frodo #bagginshield #bilbo x thorin #thorin x bilbo #the hobbit #tolkien legendarium #lotr poll #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #bilbo baggins #thorin oakenshield #lotr frodo #lotr samwise #the hobbit bilbo #the hobbit thorin

[distinguisheddwarffriend]

The Tolkien Fic Rec Project

Lovely people of this fandom:

Let us start a post collecting those long fics that will stay with you forever, that you'd get a physical copy of, that left you staring into the void.

One for those Top 3 fics you've read and that will forever hold your heart, so that others may find the same joy in them.

Rules:

Only 1 fic per reblog

Only fics over 50k words

Always include: Title, Author, Platform, Main ships, Warnings, Work Count, Completed or WIP, short & spoiler free description

Optional: reasons why you love this fic so much, specific part of the fandom, needed knowledge of canon

ONLY fics in the English language (so the most people can enjoy it)

ONLY fics from the TOLKIEN - fandom

I hope many people take part!

I'll of course start:

Title: To change the course of the future

Author: authoressjean

Platform: Ao3/ Archive of our own

Ships/Pairings: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Kili/Legolas, Fili/OFC (,Aragorn/Arwen, Dwalin/Ori, Gimli& Legolas)

Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Word count: 180,353 (34 Chapters)

Status: Complete

Description: Before the Battle of Five Armies, Bilbo finds out that his Ring is The One Ring, and decides to destroy it. So he starts towards Mordor, alone.

I enjoyed this fic especially because you get to know the characters in a new way, it is incredibly funny & heartbreaking at the same time, and the pairings are really enjoyable and happen naturally.

#the hobbit #tolkien #middle earth #the hobbit fanfiction #fili and kili #thorin oakenshield #fili durin #fíli #lord of the rings #kili durin #kili #legolas x kili #legolas #bilbo baggins #thorin x bilbo #bagginshield #silmarillion #arda #jrr tolkien #fanfiction #fanfic #lotr fandom #fantasy #fic rec #fili/ofc #fili x oc #aragorn #arwen undomiel #gimli #ori

[court-jobi]

Want for Nothing

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x modern!OC, Tessa DeVon

Words: 6,404

Rating: Teen+ (inuendos, testing the waters--mmm) (18+ for spicy themes to be safe)

Warnings: no-angst confession, pining, LOTS of touching, kisses and grinding, lovely dirty talk, sweet, sweet romantic tension

A/N: a bit of fluff, bit of pining, and no small amount of delicious chemistry for these beloved characters who are FINALLY acting on their feelings... Much love to @fizzyxcustard in celebration of her recent trip around the sun... belated, but very much deserved! This one's for you, m'love 💞

Summary:

Take away the robes, the sword, the crown, and the weight of responsibility; these things leave Thorin as just a dwarf. A dwarf with pride, passion, and loyal to a fault-- and yet also easily the most honest and endearing man Tessa DeVon has met in this or any other realm- most notably, hers.

And does she ever crave him. The dance with death they faced on their Quest is over, and Tessa ever so wants to settle into a gentle ending with her Dwarf King.

The busier the two get, she'd do nearly anything for a moment alone, and when she happens on just such an occasion, she's thrilled-- only to doubt reading into the situation with one sided intentions. But what if these feelings were not so one-sided? How might she be rewarded when she brings her heart to the surface…

Read on AO3

There's a learning curve or two, for Tessa to learn in Erebor. Or three. It’s hard to keep count; it feels like there is a new one every day…

The Mountain is both familiar and not. The stories she’s heard on their cross country trek to the Erebor has painted a clear picture in her mind– and now, she’s seen it in the flesh and has the chance to have a hand in helping rebuild it. Her reinstated King has his mind set to restore the parts that should be redeemed back to their former glory, and to also sort out the plans for the things he wants to change. As the second of his royal namesake, Thorin II has the rare opportunity to make this kingdom as he sees fit– one to truly bring all the dwarf kingdoms into the fold and see Erebor and her people reach higher highs than his forefathers ever conceived.

And that’s a hell of an undertaking.

Not that he wished to micromanage, but Thorin has spent days slaving over each department’s planners and ledgers to get a solid master plan in place, with those he trusts at the top– because if his Company worked this hard to come home, too, he's going to see that they thrive in their new roles. There's bound to be missteps -trial and error- but the kindly voices of hardy dwarves around him will help him tackle the learning curve.

There is also the matter of his conscience– another, new learning curve of his own. Thorin must wrangle and settle the guilt of his failings… and thank Aule that Tessa promised to be here to see it through. 

He’s told her any time she’d listen that he relies on her for that blessing– the mercy that passes his understanding.

Tessa is so proud of the whole operation, of all of them– if a little at a loss of what to do, herself. Through recovery, she was able to be of help during a most stressful time; but the first night the entire Company sat together again for a reunion meal now that they’ve all healed, the questions came to how they would divide the shares, their stations, etc. Each member, to the last dwarf,  volunteered to aid Thorin however he deemed. 

The journey brought them together so closely, and none could go long without seeing each other now that they’ve been through Hell and Back Again. 

In the very beginning however, Tessa could not have felt more like an outsider. 

Welcomed as she was and tested through trial after trial living amongst them with linked arms, living in the Lonely Mountain was a new experience entirely. She might have been given nickname after nickname by the men in her life: from playful to annoying, to something called Sanâzyun… but she was and could never forget, in every way, a stranger to this land: to the Race of Men, Elves, to the dwarven kind.

… to the very World of Middle Earth. 

So while she rested her head each night under the assurance that she had a secure place here and plenty of friends who cared for her, Tessa made no mistake to try and assume she knew it all from a few stories and some history lessons around a fire. 

Out of respect, she nearly excused herself in the early meetings when they talked over all this– but Thorin stopped her in her tracks each time she made to stand. In perfect grace, he’d extended an offering to her, 'naturally'. He swears she'll want for nothing if she chooses to stay, 

'Celebrate your wins, yes. But please, share in this– our joys and our revelry as well– this home we've won together. This Mountain is yours to call home if you wish it so. You bled for this just as we all have. I cannot imagine a soul here would not want for you to stay, Tessa.'

So she agrees to stay… like she was going to choose anywhere else. Everyone cheered when she gave the news.

So they each set to work. 'Rome wasn't built in a day', and neither will Erebor. Tessa decided to shadow Balin and find the nooks and crannies that can be preserved. Royal Quality Control– similar enough to her old job, she reasoned. She learns the Mountain home best this way... though in doing this, she also caught a bout of 'smog sickness' from the lower mines at first– the third learning curve. She had to learn the power of hydration in the hot forges and the importance of a good, well-fitting facescarf.

But as with all new things, these stumbling blocks were all teaching lessons: Tessa’s to find her place in this world,  and Thorin’s to not sweat the small stuff and to try and rest himself.

–and maybe learn to come to terms with his heart’s feelings too. Tessa’s a bit ahead of him on that front… 

It's been weeks since their last talk on the subject;  of their undeniable chemistry. Rather than put a name to their draw to one another, the dwarf King and his odd, other-worldly Darling with her funny flat twang of an accent have remained in a dance of sorts, ever since… and Tessa -poor thing- has never quite forgotten what's all been pushed to the side and gotten in the way.

Perhaps, she wonders as she slips on her long sweater atop the layers of embroidered dress, I can snag him aside for a little chat tonight. God knows he needs a break. Maybe I'll pay Dwalin for a good distraction, some whiskey– yeah, that'll do it.

So, with a smirk, Tessa slipped a bottle of her personal stash from her makeshift bedside table, wrapped it in a leather skein, and set out into the Hall at Fili's call for her. 

Here Tessa found herself surrounded by the brashest blend of personalities in what was beginning to be actually a very relaxing moment... At dinner, the Company had all been merrymaking and having a blast of it. There's been builds, a hog tying, and something called a 'Stumpfest': which for those out along the mountainskirts, that was a success called for a celebration. Tessa will take any excuse to open this whiskey again. 

Then as the evening dwindled on, the stories began; clusters of family and friends telling their tales of old, and thankfully, making an attempt to include Tessa as much as possible. It often felt like a personal storytime to her, whenever her boys took the helm of a conversation. 

'Ye won't believe this next one lass, just wait till ya hear-'

Good thing Tessa brought the whiskey for the occasion- she'd need it for herself after all these gory war stories…

Across the room where Heads of House have gathered for a meal, Thorin was actively blurring the lines between work and play as they speak. His sidebars, from what Tessa could vaguely tell were ones of nostalgia which segued into his current happenings quite well. Still, she'd listen to him all day if she could. 

Everyone at the table, and truly everyone in Erebor, sees their king as infallible, immovable and without any chinks in the armor– never knowing that his biggest enemy is himself. After all, his fatal flaw is never turning that brilliant mind of his off. Funny, Tessa thinks to herself, that he'd be a prime candidate for Redbull or Five Hour Energy advertisements for as much as he complains about not having the energy to get through the day. Though in the warm din of the evening fires blazing across the fire stones, he'd gained a second wind through a pint or two of his favorite ale.

Tessa snuck a glance from where she sat among a circle of master storytellers; namely her dear Bofur and Nori. Even with hilarious sources of distraction right next to her, she’s unable to part her sights from Thorin for long. He’s just– captivating. Even here - at the end of the day with his hair down and tunic untethered to the low point of the neckline. He’s irresistible. And not helping Tessa’s endless pining of him…

As the hour dragged on, she was pleased to see Thorin laugh and ease himself of those hard lines of focus he wore– and was hit with even more delight when he met her eyes with rapture and ultimate fondness, even from across the room. It was electrifying, every time, to have his focus all on her. (What she wouldn't give to have a way to speak mind to mind, because she cursed the distance between them whenever he looked at her like that.)

Sure enough though, the pull to be by his side was too strong– and he, too, beat her to the same draw. 

Thorin came to her circle of conversation, where Bofur was regaling another far-fetched story Tessa assumed was toeing the line of fantasy. While he didn't react to the outbreak of laughter that ensued, Thorin spoke above them on the downbeat, begging the group to allow him to borrow Tessa– effectively excusing the pair 'for a quick review while she has the time'. 

Tessa assumed this was a lovely excuse to take a walk, as they left the hall and into one of the upper corridors.

–but it wasn't. No, he's actually picking her brain and trying to find the right bit of parchment in the Mapmakers Study to show her something, and swept her away to help him look. 

For a moment, Tessa did find this adorable: Thorin, flitting about mumbling a decade's worth of history as if she can hear him properly, explaining what he's doing. But it's just his way of trying to catch her up to speed, so she took their outing as a dear expression of that. 

Inside this room, Tessa found a little perch beside the table she happened upon. It's ancient and caked with rubble, dust, and stacks of books. Oh, and of course, Dwarven scabbards; because who in their right mind in Erebor would find themselves without their steel at their side, even one abandoned generation ago? The mess was a funny sight. Careful of nicks and splinters, Tessa minded where she sifted through, all while Thorin dug around like he owned the place speaking only in fragments- sorting his thoughts as he did the hidden treasures laid out before him.

A comfortable quiet passed between them, leaving Tessa to a host of thoughts in her inner dialogue. When Tessa recalled the memories and stolen moments they shared like this– the ones they typically came so close to talking about, but were always interrupted for one reason or another– the flair of impatience reared up.

Thorin's promise, especially.

So, Tessa broke her waiting silence,

"You said once, 'I wouldn't want for anything'. Not while I lived here, right?"

Thorin only barely cocked his head, still on the hunt for whatever he was searching for. 

"Mm, that's right," he offered blindly. "Why do you ask."

A knife's hilt caught her attention. To admire the goat's-leather handle, Tessa picked it up and leveled it on a finger– and kept her gaze from him, as aloof as she can manage, 

"Well I gotta say…" she lightly sighed, "If the taste of what I had in Laketown is any indication, I'd say I'm pretty neglected."

Polite quiet was thrown out of the room– by Thorin’s hand on the table rolling something off it by accident. 

The sound turned Tessa towards the clatter, and then to her lovely companion. Completely puzzled, Thorin looked up to her newly alerted. Concern coated that expression.

Tessa made a concerted effort to keep her face as neutral as possible. Really sell the blasé look to him;

"On the back porch?..." Tessa threw the memory into the open. 

Tomorrow would be the blessed day that’s been over a year in the making: the day that would see the dwarves reach Erebor, and the buzz about Bard's small home couldn't be more lively. With the exception of Kili's room where he fought with sleep and the aches, the Company had trouble getting a good night's rest when the journey would be reaching its end in a matter of hours– when they'd take the boats from Laketown and see their home again. Yes, this was the night before they take on their last stretch of road, so Tessa joined Thorin on the balcony for their nightly chat– presumably their last peaceful one for a while.

He's wearing red tonight. It's a borrowed shirt and decidedly too long in the arms– and yet he pulls it off with a rugged finish. He could don any color and he'd look amazing… even though the Durin blue is the natural choice. Surely it will return after a wash day gives it new life.  

Threading his arm, relaxed, Tessa keens in the cool of the night and said she'd decided to come outside to simply enjoy the view while she has it. –but as he noticed she's looking right at him when she said the words, Thorin settles into the moment's respite with her, comforted as never before- and squeezes the hand laid atop his. 

Didn’t last long, this stretch of magic and attraction. When picking up the sound of Bilbo and Balin wandering out the door on the far side of the dock to talk with him, Tessa took her leave; well, not before she snuck a kiss on Thorin’s cheek before he can turn and say otherwise. But words never came in his surprise: only action.

It’s so fast– Thorin catches her wrist back, pulls the palm over where his heart beat, and gives Tessa a real kiss for the very first time: warm and firm due to how close she was. 

The pair didn't notice since Tessa bluffed so well, passing them and the Company with that stolen moment with the King all to herself. Secret kept, she simply beamed in what looked like pride to the outside, after slipping inside and losing herself to drink and a buzz that had nothing to do with the wine. 

A tense parting would come the next morning… As Kili's health waned, Fili stubbornly set standing by his brother’s side, the Company received an earful of even more warnings about the Mountain's curse, and poor Bilbo fluttered about more nervous than he'd ever been. Before they set out from the city, when Thorin asks Tessa to stay in Bard’s home and care, she agrees because it's obvious: she'd protect his family without question and understands Thorin to-a-tee. He worries for them both, his sister-sons, but in turn, Tessa makes him swear to be careful until they can rejoin him. He gives his word as best as possible- as the Uncle, the Leader, and something more... 

Under the little half canopy, some wooden chimes blew their way in the breeze as a send-off song of their own. Nothing more to promise as she knew nothing truly was, Tessa offered Thorin as confident a smile and 'go get em' as she could manage. 

But as she heads inside, Thorin catches her elbow again to make her stop. She's thrilled her brave show of affection wasn't a dream, when the dwarf cups her head and kisses her goodbye again in private where no one can see them: under tarps, caring touch, and broken bits of light above them… shedding what hope they could offer this tired, wooden corner of the world .

–And it all fell into place; each line of Thorin's confusion dissipates as he realizes just what Tessa means. 

What's more is his response, interest seeping in: 

"Is that what you want?"

Tessa cocks her head. All too demurely, mind you– sliding a hand back through her hair's part, the flirty act deliciously fluffed it up. She's feigning innocence, but even the smallest of moves all but scream how she's presenting herself from the chest, out. 

True, Tessa wants his kiss again.. But she wanted something even deeper, felt herself wanting for more than just that one brief connection on the surface. 

She yearned for every bit of Thorin: those moments of pride she’d observed in public, as well as these intimate ones here. She wanted his heart, his mind, his kindness, his righteous  rage… she wanted to taste every story he’d gift her, and wrap herself up in that voice for the rest of forever. 

So in short? Yes; she wanted him. 

But this behavior… this is a wager. A huge limb she's leapt onto. 

Whatever Thorin was looking around the desk for her to see went forgotten. Instead, he chose to close their gap. 

With steady steps, he saunters close to his fairer company– dangerously eyeing her face, to her neck, to the slope of her chest, and to her eyes again. The move forced Tessa into a lean back onto the desk, pinned. Under such dazzling eyes, she just holds back Thorin's stare with a saucy, hidden smile.

"The lady wants for a bit of attention, does she?" 

Thorin soothed the woman in reach as he framed her perfectly, hands bridged on the desk on either side of her. 

"Just a bit, maybe," Tessa slides her hands along his lapels- not so cautiously anymore. "Not to be an inconvenience, Your Majestic-ness…"

With a careful eye, Thorin outlined her features as he looked her over, ignoring her jab and seeking the intention underneath. He's no simple-minded man- he sees everything in a word: what she says and what she means, even in her jests. Something akin to doubt crossed his face as he spoke his mind, 

"I'd not been certain… Forgive me if I cast the wrong impression your way," Thorin sought her forgiveness through a tender touch of her arm, "Tessa, I've only ever– I've tried my utmost to carve away time to you, as you rightly deserve. Though I’ve not presumed or demanded so…"

A lovely flip bashed against Tessa's chest, her desire: spurring her nod of the head to placate his worry. 

Thorin asked further, meekly,

"Am I to believe you– might feel as I do? Regarding that night, and… the morning that followed, and the– Mahal, what you said in the infirmary…" Thorin winced at the shared memory; indeed, reading into things too late. 

Tessa bopped her head again, a subtle way to show her heart lies with him without a doubt in her mind. That it wasn't too late…not when she'd given her reason for staying, why she'd stay in Thorin's corner, and the reason she'd keep coming 'round: 

'Love– present tense.' 

"Feels like ages ago, but– yeah." Tessa confessed. "Kinda hoped it wouldn't be a one-time thing," A small, enticing smile tinged the side of her mouth. 

"I feel a fool all the more, then," Thorin chuckled as he swept Tessa into his arms more comfortably, "I truly have been distracted, haven't I."

"I don't think a single person here would blame you, Thorin. You're more than busy– you're booked three or four times over, hon," Tessa laughed herself, sinking into his arms. "Your people's King comes first, and I know that; and I can behave myself well enough on my own between my sightings of the guy."

Thorin's look softened upon her. He clearly wasn't content with this status quo.

"And it's not like I feel ignored, not in the slightest! M'only–" Tessa trailed off, turning coy again and fixating on all these details up close; the stiching and braidwork she'd come to associate with this more illustrious form of 'Thorin', "--just finding myself craving a certain someone's attention sometimes. Just from one, particularly regal source, busy as he is…"

With his palms swept up her corseted sides, the dwarf before her teased her right back. To her delight– Thorin likes to play, too.

"And whose attention is that?” he asked lightly, “There are several dwarf lords here tonight, all from noble blood. Whose attention have you sought after, so patiently?..."

Breathless as she locks in on his lips and gives a playful little smirk, Tessa hug hims loose around the shoulders.

He's got her: snug in tight, in perfect space to nuzzle noses, close to speaking into her partially open mouth,

"Tell me, Tessa~"

His Darling swallowed. Won't take much, she'll be caving any moment now. Broken and breathy, Tessa stood stock still beside herself. Her chest heaved with the words,

"-'d like yours."

Thorin rumbled, "Louder."

"Yours." Tessa's shudder.

A happy, low moan came from Thorin in response, his forehead dropping to hers for a nuzzle. What she'd been reduced to by this man's voice…breaking eye contact from that gorgeous face to study his neck.

"Shyness, from you. Wherever did this come from, pretty thing?"

Forget shyness and patience. Tessa whines, tipping her head up for a kiss.

"Thorin, please."

The dwarves' King quiets her with a devilish hush of his lips before collecting her hair back and capturing hers in one fell swoop. But one right after another, Thorin easily lost himself in the sensation.

 Just as guilty and greedy for so much more. 

Breaking for labored breaths and a too-long glance, a delighted smile lit up Tessa's face, and one in equal measure to his. 

Giving him attention back, Tessa's hands cupped his strong neck and jawline, fingers teasing deliciously down to his beard before seeking a path through his hair like he'd done to her. This earned a straight growl and a deliberate step forward to pin her to the table-- to the point where Tessa felt Thorin's 'presence' in every sense of the word.

She sighed his name, like she could breathe it until the end of time to sustain her. For Tessa, it was easy, and right off the tongue, to react like this at the lack of room, distracted by his press to notice him straying to lap at her neck now. 

Paws cradling her to him, Tessa's stance spread to let her leg give out and lift on instinct. 

Reading her moves by touch, Thorin yanked behind her knee to prop her up against the surface to fit himself to her. She was pretty sure a knife hilt and some empty scabbards laid flush against her bottom, but she barely cared.

"Thorin--" Tessa lightly sighed and swallowed for control. Her head buzzed from within, and echoed by his moans answering hers, "some--ah.. Don'-- nnng d-door?"

"I don't care." Thorin growled in a deep place in his chest. "Let them come. I've waited for you long enough."

Tessa gawked: has he??

She could chuckle now, she's that relieved– but gasped at the sensual kiss and light suck to her ear. Thorin teases the stud between his teeth. Nuzzling her back to center, he mumbled something delicious in his native language before his mouth was yanked back to meet hers again by way of slightly trembling hands.

There's no hope now; Tessa's addicted. Now locked in, she bit along Thorin's bottom lip to claim him– wordlessly crying out 'mine' to his lips.

The game of back and forth wound up with Tessa being hoisted fully onto the table, Thorin's hands petting just about any curve he could reach. Fingers long since tugged her collar down so he could worship her jewel-adorned chest, one palm braced above her as she has him locked between her legs by the waist, making out with him half atop her. 

As her sights stayed fixed on every bit of his regal features, Tessa's exploration of Thorin's chest and arms' reach had him heaving heavy, excited breaths when they broke away-- each huff exerting intense restraint to not bowl her over and lose himself in her entirely. The sight thrilled her.

While she held onto his pillar of a bicep, Tessa gave Thorin's neck an extra dose of care and took advantage of the angle to whisper all sorts of nothings up to him– anything to break his damn restraint and give her some sort of pressure between her hips.

"God you're gorgeous…”  Tessa sighed, the praises coming naturally. “Watching you run this place like you were always meant to... teasing with those baby blues of yours, and all I can do is watch you-- so fucking unfair."

Thorin shuddered under her tongue.

"How the hell am I supposed to focus all those days last week… stuck in that throne room, wishing I could just walk right up to that dais, n'sit on your lap... That's my spot, after all; you promised you’d keep it for me~"

"Mahal, Tessa..."

Tessa smirked, 

"Part of you wouldn't even care if I did, would you? I could wear that blue dress you like on me so much. Won't be any mistaking whose I belong to then, huh~" She whispered up to his ear. "Maybe one of these days I just..might..do that."

Thorin rattled a low growly noise, something fierce and turned on. 

He caught her neck in a light hold, tearing her from her niche under his curtain of hair,

"Nnng, must you say things like that..."

Tessa upped the ante on the sweetness, despite the lustful glare he gave.

"Would you rather I lie and say less, my darling Highness?" 

"Lies don't become you," Thorin grit out, tugging her up flush against him, "But if you're to be so lavish and colorful in your descriptions of what you'd like me to do to you, I'd prefer it to be in a warm, lit room with a good, sturdy bed– and not in the same hour I have to turn tail and face my innermost council with my 'sword drawn'."

A chortle burst from her with a lovely giggle-- the audacity, she could imagine the faces now. 

Thorin fixed a look at her laugh, straightening his waistband as subtle as possible.

"You are set on becoming the death of me, aren't you."

"I doubt you really wann’a make a deal with Death now after all this time, do you? Thought you had work to do."

"Work that you do not seem remotely interested in partaking in right now, little minx."

"I am interested, I've always been interested," Tessa sang up to the object of her affections, "Just thought maybe you deserved a break–" Tessa eyes him back with a glance... and a super slow uptick of the leg,  "Just a nice, little distraction."

Thorin pressed in at that front leg advancing. He groused into her shoulder, inlaying a kiss between his thoughts. 

"What was that?"

"A desperate dwarf's plea, my darling dove." Thorin moaned at the base where her neck and shoulder met. "'Have mercy on this stubborn soul.'"

"Hey~ m'not trying to embarrass you," Tessa smooths his hair back and directs him by the bearded chin to face her, "Just want you to feel the same as I do. Just as good, just as special."

"My special one, you are." 

Thorin mouthed at her cheek after a sweet kiss, continuing, 

"--and how I'd enjoy showing my special one just how special she is–”

Tessa sank into his arms tightening around her waist, giving in to his support.

“For Mahal as my witness,” Thorin all but sang into her ear low and clear, “I'd not show my beloved my efforts in this musty place. I'll not have her on a desk that's not been touched in who-knows-how-long when I commit every blessed inch of her to memory…”

Good God.

Thorin rakes through her hair before the poor thing could speak, could think- 

“No; I shall have her on the finest bed in these Halls. Nothing in earshot but a fire raging: crackling the air around us, accompanied by that perfect sound of every sweet noise I drive out of her- filling the Mountain itself. Every last beg and moan and sigh and cry. I take my time. I do not rush, and I will not allow her to hold a drop of her sweetness back from me. And believe me, Sanâzyun, I will know."

Tessa... stopped working. 

Then he promised again, 

"You will want for nothing… whilst you are under my care and my house. Not now, nor until my last breath." Thorin pulled back to hold her gaze to him again, "Does that please you, my sweet, neglected One?"

The tiniest noise escaped Tessa-- not unlike steam from a teapot-- but was silenced as Thorin sealed his filthy promises with a lavish kiss to her jaw. 

The rest of Tessa's neck bowed, compliant; leaving Thorin with the room and to he time he willed to carry on with adoring attention to her nape, all while massaging up her leg through her dress.

… –at least until an oaken door flung open in a crash against the wall. 

Tessa flung into panic mode- what she must look like, a wanton thing; Thorin forced them both to duck, quick now, under the desk. 

Once landed on her ass and tucked in by Thorin's massive, immovable arm, Tessa choked on her laugh– heaven knows why they're doing this... But Thorin simply held her: back flush against him with the unspoken swear to not move a muscle.

"Will Mahal in His Grace please give me a reason not to whack this oaf, please! I need a sound voice of reason for once, THORIN!! 

"I'll show ya REASON, you ancient pair a' donkey's buttocks!!" 

Tessa looks at said King over her shoulder to catch sight of it; Thorin simply rolls his eyes and firms up his mouth. 

Tessa mouths, 'donkeys buttocks?' It took everything to keep her from giggling– this scene is ridiculous. Thorin however, while keeping a sharp ear on where the others were in the room, met her silent question with a cheeky wink. They listened on– praying to every spirit that their surprise company would just leave. The wandering hand cupping Tessa's waist spoke volumes as much….

Which worried her– because she could hear steps all around the backside of the table.

She can't really believe this: two grown adults were hiding from from their dearest, closest comrades and kin. 'Like randy bairns', Dori would say… Of course, he's presently debating with Gloin something fierce. 

"Well surely you gotta give him the context, Dori!!"  Fili chimed in to lay down the law. Tessa could imagine the hand motions he's giving to seem his most princely. "Be fair, now! Tell him who's really got the grievance." 

"The lords over the Guild are making a right mess of the armory- we got one chance to do this right, and it's all gone to straight horseshit. It doesn't even take a novice to know what a mess it is- ye can't even walk straight down the Hall, there's rubbish everywhere!" 

"I TAKE OFFENSE TA THAT!" Gloin fired up again, "I've given a GENEROUS allotment to see to the– bah, just as- Not asking ya to come see fer yourself like a nanny," grace reentered the Redbeard's tone, "but- Thorin, you in 'ere?"

A hand petted along Tessa's ribcage. Not a word. 

"You sure he's in here, lad?"

"Saw 'em come in here myself…" Fili mused low in his chest.

Tessa bit her cheek against the pang of nerves for distracting Thorin in the first place. Then, a silent nip to the soft spot on her still-exposed shoulder changed her feelings; she became confident she needn't worry if he wasn't.

"Don't exactly got the best track record of watching where folks are going tho, are ya boy."

"That was one. time." Fili groused, never living down the 'Ponies Incident of the Spring'. "Fine. Let's go your way, Dori."

The two bickered on with an exhausted Fili following suit. But by Grace, Favour and Luck, at the sound of his nephew's grunt to close the oaken door again, Thorin let his head fall back on one of the table supports. 

The sigh that left him was tired and worn. 

Tessa slunk back to recline against him- more across his lap so that she could see him fully, 

"Popular mister you are, huh?"

Thorin bristled at even his closest blood relative who left the room. "Only ever at the peak times I wish not to be."

Tessa chuckled at Thorin's interrupted expense, but snuggled up to him all the same. Naturally he welcomed the cuddle, and coincidentally helped her heart slow down a bit at both their rush of passion and the scare. With a shadowed curtain over them, the pair out of the low lamplight, this hiding spot did wonders for the senses and made everything feel more cozy between them– yes, even criss-crossed on the cold floor. Thank goodness for the linens over the table.

Reminded Tessa of those tarps that gave them shade in Laketown. How similar this all felt, a nighttime deja vu rather than the day... 

"Suppose I might be the selfish one, after all–" Tessa stomached her guilt. "This is just this sort of thing I was trying to avoid..."

"What do you mean?"

Tessa truly felt juvenile now, cooped up and hiding from prying eyes. 

"This." she sassed, "Crawling around like children, trying and almost failing to keep a secret thing going?"

Thorin gave a naughty laugh at this, one that betrayed his years, too.

"Now that you mention, who's to say this need be a secret, really..." 

"You, apparently," Tessa wrenches back to look Thorin dead in the eye, "You're the one who hid us under a flippin' table!"

"Because you were nearly about to faint at my next words– and I'm not letting my nephew see either of us in this state!" Thorin laughed, incredulous. "Imagine what you'd might have cried out for the whole neighboring quarters to hear, had I carried on just so-"

And she did indeed start a poor try to smother her giggles at the sheer embarrassment. Thorin tickled the daylights out of her sides until she scooted into his lap further to gain the high ground. 

While Tessa revealed in this soft spot she’d found in her dearest and most unexpected crush, the thought sunk in how quickly he did, in fact, hide away. He had said he was trying to avoid the look of losing himself, and Tessa couldn't forget that appearances - though vain- were important to him.

As much as she loved the man underneath the regalia, Thorin was the King- he and the crown were inseparable. 

"Don't tease, Thorin." Tessa heaved, breathless. It was easy to disguise her pause as mirth for a moment. 

But Thorin pored over the way her face must have changed with a careful regard,

"I am not teasing you."

He cupped her cheek then, keeping her close with a gentle hold, Thorin leaned in to brush their foreheads together. 

"What of you, my Heart," he rumbled softly, "Would you sacrifice your happiness as I have… and wait along for a mere moment's peace with the one you seek for the rest of your days when you may have it all, freely?"

Tessa's brought to tenderness by his words.

"Well.." she managed with a Southern smile, shifting to mesh her fingers with his off her face, "When it's you, I think any chance is worth it, even if it's small. Even if…."

She glanced up, to the plans laid out on the table above them,

"... this is the only chance I get to really work up the guts to tell you just how much I would want that with you."

While she couldn't read his mind, she was no fool: Tessa saw how her words affected Thorin, as maybe he never got to hear them.

Those lovely, heavy-set brows tilted and softened. 

"I'll take ya however I can getcha, yknow." Tessa tried to lighten her meaning, "I'm really not out to keep you from those who need you, hon. That list is getting longer by the day."

"And if.. I said I needed you?"

Oh how she tried not to set her hopes too high for that. And yet, she was gifted with its blessing:

" 'My people', our friends, will manage well enough on their own." Thorin brushed Tessa's bangs away lovingly, "And I for one agree with your point of view; you are right. I believe I should spare my time when I can. Indulge in that ‘self-care’ you speak of.”

The term sounded funny coming from him, and caused a smile to flicker into your lips.

“Just for a spell of rest and company every now and then can't hurt…” Thorin decided, “-if you say it really matters."

Music to Tessa's ears. 

Taking that height of heart, Thorin scooped Tessa into his lap the rest of the way. Damn the cramped space, but she made herself fit anyway.

"Maralmizi, Sanâzyun." Thorin said, as solemn as a promise that would be given by a King. 

But that light in his eyes- the one that shot into the soul when you looked at it… Tessa couldn't turn away if she tried. In fact, she melted into it, wrapping Thorin up in her arms. 

That's the look of a lover…

…Did he just say he loves me?

"Something tells me," Tessa whispered down to him, "that I think I know that one. You just spun three words, with eight very sweet letters around in Khuzdul… M'I right?"

"A fair observation, yes," Thorin chuffed in a smile, he spiraled a lock of hair around a finger, entranced by its ombre fade of color. "Clever thing."

Tessa beamed in full joy, and nuzzled into him again. 

"I may crave this sight of you all I like," he confessed, "--yet I would also see you by my side as well, Tessa. And proudly keep you there, if you wish," he gave a crooked smile, "If that will satisfy your wanting for the time being, I will make the effort to ensure you do not feel this way again."

Entranced by that smile and adoring words that came from it, 

"Not just for work?"

"You'll have it all. Merely say the word, and you’ll have the world by my hand."

Tessa rested in this comfort. She didn't want the world… just him, really. 

"...I'd like that."

And so, Thorin kissed his Tessa again with ultimate softness- and dare she say, love. 

Perhaps they’d tell the party when they came back into the room, perhaps not just yet. Perhaps they’d keep this between them for now…

Taglist: @lathalea @sotwk @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @guardianofrivendell @middleearthpixie @absentmindeduniverse

^^If I've neglected any tags, please let me know, friends!

#majestic thorin #thorin x oc #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x ofc #thorin smut #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit #thorin is a softie sometimes #also spicy when he wants to be #spicy for his lady and his lady alone

[frosticenow]

This is my second fic for @thorinsspringforge! This one is a Thorin/OFC! I hope you enjoy it!

Summary: Thorin is travelling to the Mannish kingdoms to make trade agreements and strengthen Erebor. The first stop is Minas Tirith, where the Steward of Gondor uses politics as a game. Thorin finds an unlikely ally.

I want to thank @legolasbadass who did the fanart for this fic. And did an AMAZING job. You can see the full one here on tumblr or AO3.

#tsf23 #thorin #thorin/ofc #thorin x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #tolkien #tolkien fanfiction #tolkien fic #tolkien fanfic #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #hobbit fanfic

[middleearthpixie]

🌹

He rumpled her hair, then moved to the pantry to find the ingredients to make the perfect hot chocolate for her, and emerged a few minutes at the sound of Dís and Heather laughing.

~ Brilliant Disguise, the chapter I am currently working on and hope to have up sometime this week... :)

#richard armitage #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #romance #Thorin x ofc Sophie #Update incoming! #ask games #WIP lines

[lathalea]

Entangled 2/10

The first question I'd like to ask you today is: Do you remember a little fic called The Best Day of My Life I wrote a while back? Don't worry, me neither ;) It simmered in my head and what started off as a standalone ficlet, grew into something bigger. Back then, it was written in the first-person narrative, but as it grew into a longer story in my head, I decided to change the subsequent chapters to the third-person perspective. This story was born from an inspiration I found when researching certain medieval traditions, especially when it comes to arranged marriages in royal families, and the role women played in these arrangements. It inspired me to wonder what it would look like in Dwarven societies of Middle Earth. I hope you enjoy it! Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield x Dwarf OFC (The Hobbit) Rating: G (subject to change) Warnings: ANGST Summary: Arranged marriages are common among the dwarven nobility. After reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, the Kingdom Under the Mountain needs to be rebuilt. Thorin agrees to marry a lady from the Blue Mountains, securing a mutually beneficial alliance with the Broadbeam Dwarves. Lady Mista is said to be a practical and hard-working dwarf-woman, willing to give him an heir who would secure the line of succession. A decent queen material, his advisors say. If only Thorin could let go of his past… You can find this fic on AO3 (search for lathalea). Special thanks for @legolasbadass for all your help and support 💙 ✨ Chapter list: Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 ...

Khuzdul: Azsâlul'abad - the Lonely Mountain (both the mountain and the dwarven kingdom known among Elves and Men as Erebor) Uzbad ra zabdûna undu ‘Urd - King and Queen Under the Mountain

TA 2942, one year after the Reclamation of Azsâlul'abad

“Your Majesty, My Lady, brothers and sisters in stone, we have all eagerly waited for this moment,” The High Priest’s sonorous voice rang out in the festively decorated Great Hall of the Lonely Mountain. “May the Pleating Ceremony commence!”

It was happening. 

Mista swallowed. It felt as if the eyes of every single person present in the cavern were on her. As instructed earlier, Mista took off the veil that had covered her hair which was unbraided and adorned only with minuscule diamonds, and stepped stiffly towards the King. Her hands were clammy, and she tried not to stumble. The slippers and the opulent ceremonial gown she wore were incredibly uncomfortable and heavy. What a blunder it would be if she landed on the floor face down at that very moment! The court etiquette did not forbid her to wear her glasses, so at least she could see her surroundings clearly… including the crowds that gathered for the ceremony in the Great Hall. 

Closing her eyes, she focused on her breathing, then something brushed against her temple. Mista flinched like a startled pony.

“No need to be alarmed, My Lady.” A low, rumbling murmur reached her ears. It was the King’s voice; she could have recognized his calm, confident manner everywhere. “Allow me to choose a suitable lock of your hair.” “By all means, Your Majesty,” Mista mumbled, feeling how close he stood to her, his arm brushing against hers, and how his fingers slowly ran through her hair. She did not know that a male touch could be so gentle. The only people allowed to touch her hair before this day were her mother, sister, and personal maid.

“Thank you, My Lady. Would you allow me to compliment you?” the King said and, not waiting for her reply, he  added. “I do not think I have seen such exquisite hair before.”

“I… thank you, Your Majesty,” she whispered, attempting to calm herself. Did the King himself truly think her hair was exquisite? A realisation dawned upon her. Of course not; he must have referred to its uncommon length, that was all. It was the only source of Mista’s pride — perhaps the colour of her hair was plain and common, but she had always kept it long, and currently it reached almost to her knees. And now, the King’s nimble fingers ran through it, once, twice, and then began pleating her hair slowly, each of his movements deliberate. It was a surprisingly pleasant sensation, but even then, she did not dare to open her eyes especially when the tips of his fingers lightly brushed against her cheek, making her tremble at the sensation.

“It may help you to imagine that there is only you and me here.” His quiet voice reached her again. 

“Pardon?” Mista’s breath hitched.

“During straining official functions I tend to imagine that there are only stone statues around me, carved in amusing poses. It helps to tackle the nerves.”

Mista’s eyes fluttered open and met the King’s azure gaze. An encouraging smile danced on his lips moments before he returned to braiding.

“I did not know someone like you could feel… nervous, Your Majesty,” she heard herself say.

“My coronation felt ten times worse than facing the enemy during the Battle of the Five Armies.” His reply made Mista chuckle. His smile widened, making his handsome face even more alluring. For a heartbeat, she forgot how to breathe, simply staring at him. 

Click.

The King clasped his bead around her new braid. Gold encrusted with onyx contrasted with the plainness of her mousy hair, but the pattern made it somehow more refined. She took the braid into her hand and admired its even, elegant weaves.

“It is beautiful, Your Majesty,” she whispered.

The King gave her a thankful nod. Mista felt his intent gaze on her. His Durin’s apple bobbed. Something was not right… Why were his features so tense?

It took her a moment to understand. With her cheeks burning, she took a step towards him. How could she have forgotten that now it was her turn?

“May I…?” Her voice failed her, but no words were necessary. The King lowered his head towards her, his hair flowing freely in front of her eyes. 

With trembling fingers, she picked a thick lock of hair on his left temple and divided it into four parts. His hair was smooth and thick, making her think of a wolf’s fur, but it smelled like sweet oils from faraway lands in the South. Mista wanted to keep on braiding it for as long as she could. She thanked Mahal that she knew her personal pattern by heart — otherwise, she would have surely entangled his hair or ended up with a bunch of knots instead of the braid. Focused on plaiting it, she forgot about everything around her — there was only the King, Thorin, the Dwarf who unknowingly captured her heart a long time ago. Now, with every weave, she was willingly bestowing her whole self upon him.

Her bead was made of bronze and tiny sapphires from the Blue Mountains. For some reason, it refused to close around the King’s braid, making Mista sigh, but then one of his large, warm hands encircled her fingers that held the bead, and pressed it harder together. 

Click.

It was done.

Mista’s heart beat faster and faster as the King Under the Mountain took her hands into his. They were facing each other in a way that allowed everyone gathered in the Great Hall to see them from the side.

“Foreheads,” the High Priest whispered, barely moving his lips, holding something in his hands that glinted in the light of hundreds of lanterns.

The King squeezed her hands gently and lowered himself towards her once more. Mista took a deep breath and stood on her tiptoes so that their foreheads could meet.

His skin was pleasantly warm against hers, his nose brushed against hers, and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. Instinctively, she closed her eyes, but the last thing she saw were his lips, slightly parted, and so close, so very close to hers, and there was his beard too, and she wondered how it would feel if…

“What Mahal has joined over the marriage anvil, no power shall break apart until the end of days,” the High Priest exclaimed, his voice loud and clear, like the sound of a gunmetal bell, drowning all of her inappropriate thoughts. 

“Thorin, son of Thrain, Mista, daughter of Milva, you are now husband and wife. Uzbad ra zabdûna undu ‘Urd!”

Loud cheers filled the spacious cavern as the white-bearded priest bound their hands together with a thin but unbreakable mithril chain — a symbol of the eternal bond they forged a moment ago. This was one of the most revered traditions of Mahal’s Children: Dwarves married only once. Mista read a treaty once that explained the origin of this ancient tradition: one of the oldest Dwarven legends said that each of the Seven Fathers of the Dwarves had one spouse, and that each couple was made from one piece of stone, destined to be always together, as one mind, body, and heart. A long time had passed since Mista was an overly romantic lass who believed that each Dwarf had their beloved Other Half somewhere in the world. Now she was over one hundred and thirty years old, and during her lifetime, she saw too many dalliances, clandestine affairs, and broken promises to believe that her people were capable of loving only once and only the right person. Dwarves were a fiery race, with molten lava running in their veins rather than cold pieces of rock. Nevertheless, their marriages were the cornerstones of society, crucially important to every family, and so a wedded couple was supposed to be like a rock: steady and unbreakable. That was Mahal’s will, as the priests said. Therefore, the dissolution of marriage was impossible. If a Dwarf broke their marital vows — which, as dishonourable as it was, happened from time to time — they would still remain married to their spouse. Even death did not end it, as her people believed that they would remain married even in the afterlife, in the Halls of Awaiting. That was why Dwarven courtship would often last many years so that the future spouses had ample time to know each other well before they made this irreversible decision.

Mista’s courtship lasted one month. That was how much time Lord Tair, her father, needed to finalise negotiations with the King Under the Mountain. During that time, she never saw her future husband. That was to be expected — the Blue Mountains were almost half a world away from King Thorin II’s kingdom, Azsâlul'abad. Instead, his envoys arrived with the marriage contract signed in his own hand and a chest filled with customary gifts for his future bride: jewellery, hair combs, and a traditional courtship cloak. There was also a letter addressed to her. It contained all the obligatory niceties along with His Majesty’s apology for his absence due to the fact that his kingdom was being rebuilt and needed all of his attention at the moment. He assured his bride, however, that he was looking forward to meeting her in person and offering her as much hospitality as he had received in Tumunzahar years ago.

He remembered.

Over one hundred years had passed, and he still remembered his visit to her home city. Precisely like Mista. She never forgot how gallant and handsome he was, how his words dried her tears, and how he made her feel as if she, the ugliest girl at the feast, were the only woman in the whole world.

Perhaps that mawkish idea of Dwarves finding their Other Halves was not true, but she was certain of one thing: she still loved the same Dwarf as she did all those years ago. Her heart belonged to Thorin Oakenshield.

And now she was his wife. Her eyes were still set on the glistening links of the mithril chain that joined her hands when she heard the High Priest’s words.

“My King, My Queen.” He bowed with reverence, “It is time for your wedding feast.”

The only thing she could think of at that very moment was how good her hand felt in her lord husband’s reassuring hold.

***

The feast that celebrated their nuptials was an event like no other. Mista had never seen any revelries that were full of equal splendour. Countless guests from all seven dwarven realms were entertained by minstrels, musicians, dancers, and other performers. The food was delicious; wine and other liquors flowed endlessly, like the River Running, and everyone was merry. Mista sat on a grand chair placed on the King’s right hand. Now, both of them wore their crowns and royal insignia, and together, as the newlywed ruling couple of the Kingdom Under the Mountain, they accepted countless toasts and congratulations from the well-wishers throughout the evening. Mista tried her best to act with decorum worthy of the queen she had become hours ago, and she even managed to appear unflustered whenever the customary “May Mahal bless your union with countless heirs!” reached her ears. 

From time to time she managed to steal a glance at the King’s – her new husband’s – majestic profile, struggling to believe that this day was not a dream. But then she remembered the marriage braid hanging at her temple – and a similar braid in his hair. She truly was the great Thorin Oakenshield’s wife.

It was two bells after midnight when the weariness started to creep up on her.

“Is the feast to your liking, lady Mista?” the King turned to her, clearly noticing her attempt at stifling a yawn.

“Indeed it is! Forgive me, the celebrations took a toll on me, I’m afraid,” she explained, feeling the growing heaviness of her crown on her temples.

“It is perfectly understandable,” Princess Dis, the King’s sister, said. “It has been a long day. Perhaps it is time for you to repose.”

“May I…? Does the protocol allow it?” Mista took a hopeful look around the Great Hall where the feast was as lively as it was at its very beginning.

“May I remind you that now you are the Queen?” the King offered. “You may leave whenever you wish to do so.”

“And my brother will accompany you,” Princess Dis interjected, and then addressed the King. “Tonight you are only allowed to leave together.”

Mista caught a strange look they exchanged, and – after a noticeable pause – King Thorin said, “Very well.”

“Shall we, then?” He rose from his chair and held out his hand to Mista.

Leaving the Great Hall was not as easy a task as Mista expected. They had to endure another round of the official farewells, wedding toasts and felicitations from their numerous guests.

“Have a wonderful night!” Princess Dis exclaimed in a sing-song voice as they were stepping over the threshold.

“Aye, and a long one, too!” Dwalin, the King’s Captain, added, and they both laughed.

Their words sounded innocently enough for Mista at first, but they made the King clear his throat in visible embarrassment. 

And then it dawned on Mista. One more thing awaited her.

The wedding night.

✨ Chapter list: Chapter 1 (Prologue) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 ... 💙💙💙 Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it! 💙💙💙

📜 Searching for more stories to read? Check out my masterlist!📜

Special taglist for people interested in the continuation: @quiall321 @exhausted-humxn-being @sassenachlou @tinfro @unknownvirgin

@littlesweetdressmaker @shiinata-library Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed): @fizzyxcustard @shrimpsthings​ @dark-angel-is-back

@sherala007 @anyaspidergirl-blog

@jotink78 @rachel1959 @saltwater-in-the-afternoon @linasofia @bitter-sweet-farmgirl legolasbadass

@yourqueenunderthemountain @reblogunderthemountain @guardianofrivendell @elrawienthewhite @xmly-xo

@mrsdurin @nelleedraws @beenovel @vee-vee-writes @mcchiberry

@dumbassunderthemountain @errruvande @laurfilijames @emrfangirl @s0ftd3m0n

@lilith15000 @kami-chan1512  @ragsweas @enchantzz @aduialel

@myselfandfantasy @thewhiteladyofrohan @middleearthpixie @i-did-not-mean-to @blairsanne

@fckmini @clumsy-wonderland @wormsmith @mailinsblogofstuff  @medusas-hairband

@xxbyimm @knittastically @saucyminxbrainspill quiall321 @frosticenow @glassgulls

@evenstaredits @sotwk littlesweetdressmaker @alwayssevvy @sleepycreativewriter @emmanuellececchi

@I-am-the-raven-queen @ruthoakenshield @asgardianhobbit98 @justfollowtheroad @therealpizzaplanetdeliveryguy @sverdgeir

@blackqueengold If you see your nickname in bold, it means that tumblr doesn't allow me to tag you any longer. Please DM me.

#thorin oakenshield #the hobbit #fanfic #tolkien #thorin x oc #richard armitage #thorin #fanfiction #thorin x fem!reader #angst #romance #love story #writers on tumblr

[cilil]

AO3 recommendations overview

A good chunk of the recommendations I received - thanks again to all those who sent me something! - were from AO3 and I couldn't always find a corresponding Tumblr post to reblog so I decided to make a list for convenience (an attempt at sorting has also been made). Please go show some love, enjoy and happy holidays/happy new year!

₊˚⊹ Ainur

♡ Back In Evernow by @the-red-butterfly (Melkor & Manwë, Gen)

♡ Feathers and Friends by @elennalore (Manwë & Ulmo & Maglor, Gen)

♡ Whenever our paths cross by @thedaughterofshadows (Tilion, Arien & Ilmarë, Gen)

♡ Go Get Him by @glorf1ndel (Eönwë x Arafinwë, T, WoW)

♡ To be Made of Fire by @hirazuki (Mairon & Arien, Gen)

♡ Worth While by @hirazuki (Mairon & Eönwë, T, WoW)

♡ Redeeming graces cast aside by @mirkwood-hr-department (Melkor & Nienna, T, canon divergence)

♡ No Sooner Looked by @verecunda (Melkor x Mairon, Eönwë, T)

♡ When Your Walls Fall by @curufiin (Melkor x Mairon, T, canon divergence)

₊˚⊹ Elves

♡ So do our Minutes Hasten to their End by @maglor-my-beloved (Caranthir x Haleth, Erestor, T)

♡ Anywhere With you by @last-capy-hupping (Maedhros x Fingon, past Melkor x Maedhros, E, modern AU, heed warnings)

♡ What Happens at Camp Eglarest, Stays at Camp Eglarest by @polutrope (Daeron x Maglor, T, modern AU)

♡ of a harsh and caustic nature (the root of hope) by @oopsbirdficced (Caranthir x Finrod, T, soulmate AU)

♡ A Compass Pointing North by @elentarial (Celegorm x multiple, E, modern AU (cam work))

♡ Pour Out A Drink For Me by @nothinghereisworking (Caranthir x Haleth, T)

♡ Star Anise by @maglor-my-beloved (Fëanor & Nerdanel & their children, Gen)

♡ Bureaucratic outcomes & oversights by @sortumavaara (Glorfindel x Erestor, M)

♡ Snow white and the hunts(wo)men by @goschatewabn (Celegorm x Oromë, M, ABO)

♡ Laws and Customers by @z-h-i-e (Glorfindel x Erestor, little Arwen, Gen)

♡ glade-song by @welcomingdisaster (Galadriel x Melian, M)

♡ Slow Flights by @searchingforserendipity25 (Maedhros & Irmo, Gen, coming back to life)

♡ The Seven Trials of Fingon the Valiant by @melestasflight and @polutrope (Fingon, various pairings, T)

♡ My Bones Divide and Shake by @sallysavestheday (Celegorm & Oromë, Gen)

♡ Nothing gold can stay by @mirkwood-hr-department (Thranduil x Glorfindel, E, long fic)

♡ Something in the Darkness by @hirazuki (Eöl x Aredhel, M)

₊˚⊹ Dwarves & Hobbits

♡ You Should Be Safe With Me by @fantasyinallforms (Bilbo x Thorin, E, canon divergent verse)

♡ And I’ll say I love you, and I’ll say that I do by @the-girl-with-the-algebra-book (Bilbo x Thorin, Gen, modern AU)

♡ Flowers that Never Die by @frosticenow (Bilbo x Thorin, T, pre-canon)

♡ Fuck Thy Neighbor by @lordoftherazzles (Bilbo x Thorin, E, modern AU, accidental marriage)

₊˚⊹ For Orc lovers

♡ Scars of Silver and Gold by @niennawept (Adar x OFC, E, ROP verse)

₊˚⊹ Old/older favorites that helped me through difficult times back in the day:

♡ Catechesis by @lvsifer (Melkor x Mairon, E, pope AU my beloved)

♡ the path of ecstasy by @bodhvild (Melkor x Mairon, E, heed warnings)

♡ In Utumno's Deeps by @foxindarkness (Melkor x Mairon, E, heed warnings)

♡ distractions by @tarmairons (Melkor x Mairon, baby dragons, unrated)

♡ Just This Once by @crackinthecup (Melkor x Mairon, E)

♡ ... and I burn for you by @echoesoftheforest (Melkor x Mairon, E)

♡ Desire by @dragonofmordor (Melkor x Mairon, E)

♡ Sacrament by @mayakoroz (Melkor x Mairon, E)

I was a lurker back then and too shy to comment or make myself known, but I saved links to my favorite works and never forgot about them. Better late than never.

₊˚⊹ Gifts for yours truly

♡ His Malicious Majesty by @i-did-not-mean-to (Mairon, various pairings, M)

♡ Where there's smoke, there's a fire by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon x Gothmog, E, modern AU)

♡ Dog eat dog or something like that by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon, puppy, gen)

♡ Aber bitte mit Sahne... by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon, Gothmog x Eönwë, E, coffeeshop AU)

♡ Can't you see that I'm bound in chains? by @i-did-not-mean-to (Melkor x Mairon, Gothmog x Eönwë, E, mafia AU)

♡ Reaching for the stars by @i-did-not-mean-to (Manwë x Varda x Yavanna, T)

♡ The adventures of Crablor by @goschatewabn (Crablor x Faramir, E, heed warnings)

♡ Broken traps by @ruiniel (Andreth & a wolf, T)

₊˚⊹ Art collections (is this cheating? No idea - but this is my event and I loved these so let's put them in as a bonus)

♡ Kinktober by @sortumavaara (various, E)

♡ Kinktober by @elanna-elrondiel (various, E)

#cílil's fantastic ficmas #fic recs #cílil's fantastic ficmas recommendations #ao3 overview

[regamoth]

Can I make a hobbit request? Could you do Thorin, Bilbo and Elrond (maybe Beorn if you can write him?) with an S/O who talks in their sleep? Maybe they say something funny or something. Idk its up to you :) Tysm! Have a good day ❤️

⋆ Masterlist

⋆ This is only Headcanon.

⋆ Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x gn!reader, Bilbo Baggins x gn!reader, Elrond x gn!reader, Beorn x gn!reader.

⋆ TW: None I think, it's just fluff.

⋆ Note: fun fact about me: when I was a kid I had a massive crush on Legolas, but growing up I found myself being more of a Thorin person. Idk he's just so special.

Thorin: I think he would secretly love it and find it really cute and funny. But the grumpy dwarf he is will just tell his s/o that he had trouble sleeping because of that (even if he notes what they're saying every night). He might tell them it's cute sometimes if he's feeling soft.

Bilbo: The "Before journey Bilbo" would need his good night's sleep to be up and ready to... do nothing, just be a cute lil hobbit. But anyway he'd be quite annoyed at first. But I think he'd realize that his s/o talking in their sleep just comes with the package of loving them, so he'd become softer and just let you be.

The "After journey Bilbo" would not care AT ALL. I mean, he slept for over a year next to thirteen tractor-like snoring dwarves. So a s/o that just talks in their sleep is one of the cutest things he's ever seen. He'd be so cute and understanding about it, even sometimes telling you what you said if you're okay with it.

Elrond: Even if Elrond seems to be someone who's quite serious and uneasy to amuse, he'd find it really funny to listen to his partner talking while they're sleeping. I think he'd tell them as soon as they wake up (in a sassy voice ofc), along with the exact words that they said. If it makes them uncomfortable he'd reassure them and tell them it's okay, that he thinks it's cute.

Beorn: This man is literally a giant teddy bear, and even if he may seem serious and impressive, he's really soft. I think he would not care at all like- I'm not even sure he'd tell them. I feel like he's a heavy sleeper so I think he might take a lot of time to realize that his s/o actually talks in their sleep. And honestly, he might talk in his sleep too lol.

#the hobbit x reader #the hobbit preferences #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit #th #bilbo baggins #hobbit #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin imagine #thorin x reader #majestic thorin #thorin x you #bilbo x reader #thorin and company #bilbo baggins x reader #bilbo baggins imagine #elrond #elrond imagine #lotr x reader #lotr #lotr fanfic #elrond x reader #beorn x reader #the hobbit beorn #beorn imagines

[booksbabes]

I need some opinions on a Thorin x ofc fin im writing

I want to attempt to get the whole thing written before I post it. I feel like I loose interest if I post as I go.

It’s set pre quest to Erebor. Everyone is about 7 years younger than the quest age. Should Thorin and OC fall in love in this fic before quest? Should the quest even happen? I like to read hobbit fics other than the whole quest itself it tends to get predictable. And I feel there are a lot of post-quest. Everyone lives. But not many pre-quest. (Everyone will live bc I cannot take unhappy endings) let me know what you think or any ideas!

#thorin oakenshield x reader #the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin oakenshield smut #thorin x reader #thorin fic #thorin fanfic #thorin imagine #thorin x oc

[daughter-of-arda]

WM2022: Day 30--Loud

Summary: Ingrid is shouting.

Word Count: 100

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: back to masterlist HERE. Move to day 31 HERE.

——————————————————————————

“You’re shouting again.”

“What?”

“You’re shouting!”

“I’m not pouting. I’m fine.”

Fili comes closer. “You’re shouting.”

“Oh.” Hot tears creep up. She’s been weeping intermittently for days now, since the Dragon Smaug was slain but everyone survived. “Sorry.”

“Hey, Thorin says we should—” Kili stops short. “Ingrid, why’re you crying?”

“My ears hurt and I can’t hear anyone because that awful Dragon popped my eardrums, and everyone keeps saying I’m shouting when this is a normal volume for me!”

Bofur walks past, stalling at the doorway. “Why’re you shouting, lass?”

And Ingrid dissolves into tears of frustration, relief, and laughter.

#the hobbit #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #fili #fili x oc #fili x ofc #oc #ofc #tolkien #erebor #smaug #smaug the terrible #daughter-of-arda #writersmonth2022 #writer's month 2022 #kili #fili and kili #bofur #thorin #thorin oakenshield

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

HI I don’t know if your request are open so I figured I would send one anyway and then if they were closed you could just ignore it lol

BUT I had this idea and it’s been in my head for days and I don’t feel like writing it myself soooooo

Do you think you can do a one-shot or, yk, whatever you’re comfortable with, for a Legolas x Reader where the reader is kinda like Jaskier? Like they’re dramatic af, are a bard, and isn’t an elf but has somehow just been alive and in peak condition for way longer then they should’ve been? Like Legolas and Reader don’t really get along at first when they met because Reader was traveling with Thorin and Company and stuff and even after he figured out they weren’t bad he was still like “my GOD are they annoying.”

And then Gandalf seeks them out after the fellowship is formed they’re actually super useful bc they know like 10 languages, have traveled almost everywhere, and is actually very good with a sword. Gandalf brings the fellowship to a seemingly random tavern and Legolas just stops bc he recognizes them immediately and is just like “oh my god, PLEASE NOT THEM FU—“

But yk after that they like fall in love and shiz 🙄

SORRY THIS IS LIKE SO SPECIFIC OR UR NOT TAKING REQUEST it’s just I love ur writing, no other lotr blogs I’ve found are taking request, and also you seem to like Jaskier so I figured u might enjoy this a little ?? 😭😭

ANYWAYS EVEN IF YOU DON’T WRITE THIS THANKS FOR READING IT AND I LOVE UR WRITING SM ITS SO GOOD 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Sing Me A River (Legolas x Bard! Reader)

Author’s Note: HELLOOOO, FELLOW DEAR HEART! My requests technically are always open, it’s just a matter of if I ever get around to them lmao. Naturally, I get a lot of requests. Even more naturally, someone requests something and throws the word ‘Jaskier’ in there I’m writing this baby ASAP. Now, this thing grew legs of its own so you’ll probably have to request a part two in the asks so I can get that to you. I just really wanted to put something out tonight, so boom, two-parter. Maybe three. Hey, let’s just see where it goes. Now, believe me when I say I tried to find a gif that wasn’t Jaskier, but apparently if you type in ‘medieval bard lute gif’ into Google images Jaskier is the golden child of the hour. Anywhooooo hope this is what you were going for! I’ll get onto part two soon — you just gotta put it in the asks!

Warnings: Crude jokes made by reader all for the sake of the guts and glory of an epic banger of a song. Mentions adult content. (Bards will be bards).

Synopsis: Like all relevant characters of Middle-earth back in the day, you joined the Company on their Go-Fund-Me campaign to reclaim Erebor. You were a nobody bard back then but the success of your relations with kings and stories of defeating dragons made you a big hit. Speaking of hit, you and Legolas don’t get on. You made one too many hits about him that painted his royal family in a bad light. Oops. Now, Sauron is back and the Fellowship may just need your help. It’s mostly just Gandalf vouching for you, though. Oh, and fangirl Boromir ofc. They find you singing a frankly defamatory song about Legolas in a lively tavern at the height of your fame (you’re essentially One Direction circa 2012 big in Middle-earth in this fic). Tension brews as you’re ultimately asked to join a second Go-Fund-Me campaign.

The evening was late in hour but early of chores, as Gandalf and Elrond poured themselves over maps of Middle-earth. Various members of the newly-formed Fellowship hung about the open-aired room, pondering each other with curious glances.

Everyone shifted uncomfortably, wondering who’d prove to be the best travel mate for the next few months. It was as if no one knew what to do with their hands or feet, as they stood about awkwardly.

What was there to talk about, anyway? Economic investments and the rising housing crisis in the wake of the upcoming war? With so many races in the room, it was hard to navigate cultural customs, let alone figure out who was of what social standing based on clothing alone. A prince certainly had no place discussing such mutual matters with a gardener, nor a Captain of Gondor with a ranger.

No, it was best everyone waited until Gandalf and Elrond announced a travel route.

“This would steer you best from the path of both Isengard and its scouts,” Elrond concluded, pointing and dragging one finger down the tattered map.

“That’ll bring us into long-overrun townships,” Gandalf pointed out. “Middle-earth is no longer the safely presumptuous-centric land it used to be. People from all over Arda have now flocked for its resources and previously-thought safety.”

“Secrecy is best bought when surrounded by languages that cannot understand you nor you them,” Elrond countered, raising a brow and looking up at the wizard.

Gandalf raised a hand and scratched at his wiry beard. “No… But perhaps we could benefit from an additional team member for the passage? One who knows, say, ten languages across the seas and land underfoot?”

Elrond’s face quickly fell into disapproval. He moved back from the map as if standing too close to it would conjure up the bard’s presence alone, for said bard certainly dwelled somewhere within it, if the local posters unceremoniously plastered on historical podiums in Rivendell detailing the latest show were proof enough alone.

Legolas noticed this behaviour and kicked himself off the wall. He’d had run-ins with bards before – or, one, at least, and one was certainly enough. He quit twirling a knife in his hands, a gift from his father for his begetday long ago, and paid close attention.

“Ten languages would most certainly aid you, but…” the usually reserved lord made a face of cringe, “must you really bring along your friend? Do you even know where they are?”

Gandalf suddenly looked bashful. He reached into his satchel and removed a flyer. It had your pouty face on it and colourful words detailing where your next show was and the date. “I meant to visit them for one of their shows, before getting side-tracked…”

Elrond tried to not judge his friend, as he glanced up from your poster and back to Gandalf. He raised his brows and sighed, resigning himself to the idea. You had certainly grown in fame over the last few decades since your efforts in fighting the dragon fueled your reputation and songs, and certainly the fame had added to your already eccentric ego.

“Very well, if that is your will, I will support it… Just, don’t invite them back for a concert, please; my sons are still recovering from the last one, as is my winery.”

Gandalf nodded at the lord and smiled. “Nonsense, our bard is of the utmost integrity. I have nothing but faith.”

Legolas looked between the lord and wizard, quirking a brow. He tried to view the poster before it was placed back inside the satchel, but alas Gandalf unknowingly blocked his view.

But then, the prince suddenly recalled you in full detail from the fight against the dragon, and your time spent in the Mirkwood dungeons. You were clearly mortal, and that was many years ago.

Satisfied with the thought, Legolas nodded to himself in reassurance. There was no way you were still alive and kicking. With any luck, you were fast asleep in a chair somewhere, millions of leagues away.

~

Oh, you were in a chair alright. Except standing on top of it, one foot on the backrest and one on the seat. You certainly weren’t asleep, either, nor was your performance lulling anyone into such a slumber. There would be no lullabies here tonight, good sir.

Instead, on top of the chair, you belted out lyrics to the song you wrote about your time captured in Mirkwood with the Company, using the foot on the backrest to push the chair downwards, where you dramatically landed on the floor and kept on playing around the lively tavern with your lute.

Folks of all nationalities and origins joined in, for how could they not? You knew how to play the song in over ten different languages and were finally onto the Common Speech version. Everyone sung along as you made your way around the floor, illuminated in a thousand different arrays of golden candlelight.

You alluded to the Mirkwood Elves being absolute idiots, to put it lightly. It was only unfortunate that the Fellowship, led by Gandalf, walked in the moment you made a crude innuendo about Legolas’ hair being nearly as pasty as the spider’s webs surrounding his forested home. Something about incest, too.

It wasn’t very nice, but what could you say? You hated the pretentious white-haired family and they you. Perhaps composing a ballad with the dwarves about the elves’ wine-stained teeth in the dungeons planted the seed of distaste in the first place, but alas.

Gimli clapped his hands merrily and tapped his foot. “Oh-ho-ho! ‘Tis a CLASSIC back home! I’ve been meaning to meet the bard from my father’s tales for many years now! What an honourable night. Let us drink to it!”

Pippin nodded faster than light at Gimli and then Merry, speaking before racing off with his cousin and dwarven friend to the bar.

“Aye! We’ve heard this one, too! Even all the way out in the Shire!” Pippin looked up at Legolas, who’d just walked in with Aragorn right behind him. “Funny, I didn’t know there were other white-haired elves such as yourself and your father in Mirkwood, your highness. What are the chances of that!”

Just then, you sung of Legolas by title and name, confirming every crude lyric to be indeed about him towards the end of the song. Something mean about his father, too.

Pippin’s mouth parted and his brows shot up in surprise. He quickly shrugged it off, though – looking up at the elf casually before joining Merry and Gimli by the bar. “Oh, they are singing about you! That makes more sense!”

Legolas furrowed his own brows, looking away from the departing hobbit and across the tavern right as you came to the finale of the song, earning rapturous applause. And then, his eyes grew wide.

Gandalf looked bashful as he stood with Boromir. The captain was grinning at your performance – whistling as you took a dramatic bow as the cheers carried on. Frodo and Sam looked between each other but shared a silent nod, and afterwards, they joined the rest at the bar.

Seething, the prince snapped his gaze up at Gandalf. “THEM? Are you SERIOUS? How could you possibly not tell me?! They are the most arrogant, dim-witted, crude, annoying—”

“Now, now, Legolas,” Gandalf cut in, placing a hand on the swiftly rising elf’s shoulders. “Y/n and yourself may have an… adverse history, but that whole Mirkwood incident was put to rest years ago. If I recall, you both parted ways amicably at the end of the battle. There may have even been a smile, too, if I recall very well!”

“Overjoyed to be rid, as I remember it,” Legolas rolled his eyes, landing them in your direction. You took a sip of ale and felt a gaze, or, glare, lingering in your direction. When you locked eyes with the angry ones of the prince, you widened them for only a moment, before narrowing them and smirking mischievously.

Oh, he didn’t like that.

Hoisting your sloshing ale out to the side, you widened both arms. You were stood atop a tavern table, now pointing in the prince’s direction.

“Oh, my stars! Do my eyes deceive me?” Your naturally loud voice caught the attention of the tavern again, who all no doubt were hoping for an encore. “Ladies and gentleman, if it isn’t the star of the hour! Well, besides me, of course – but no, I should share the limelight; it’s the muse of my song, Legolas of the Woodland Realm!”

Everyone all looked in his direction. Many laughed loudly, some whistled appreciatively, and others who believed the lyrics muttered behind cupped hands to conceal their words and grins.

Aragorn shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t good to bring this much attention to themselves, especially given the circumstances. One look from Aragorn sent up at Gandalf voiced his concern. The wizard nodded back and drew you over with a beckoning hand.

You finished off the rest of your ale and encouraged other bards to pick up the music again. Once the sound of flutes and lutes filled the air, you made your way through the crowd, placing your hand over your heart and responding earnestly to every compliment as you walked past.

"Y/n! I saw you play when I was a child!"

"My niece is a HUGE fan!"

"Do you sing at weddings?!"

And soon enough, you were in front of the trio.

“Gandalf the Grey,” you grinned up, slinging your lute across your back.

He responded warmly, throwing your bard title in as he did so. “You’ve exceeded your previous standing upon the pedestal of fame. Apparently, this song has been heard all over the land.”

At the mention of the song, you turned to Legolas. “Ahh, has it now? Judging by the star-struck expression upon your oddly fine-tuned visage, I’m guessing this is your first time?”

Legolas narrowed his eyes and kept them locked on yours. “First and last time.”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “Aw, buddy. Don’t worry. Being a two-thousand-year-old virgin isn’t that weird. Don’t count yourself out just yet.”

His face dropped. “Wha—No! That’s not at all what I—”

“I must say, dear bard,” Boromir cut in, firmly shaking your hand. “My little brother and I have seen you perform in Gondor before, and we are both great admirers of your work. Might I please trouble you for a signature made out to ‘Faramir’? I might not get this opportunity again.”

You shrugged it off coolly. “Yeah, sure! Always happy to meet a fan!”

Legolas stared in horror at the interaction for a moment. “What is happening right now..?”

Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped in. “Y/n, I’m afraid we have not only come for review of your work tonight.”

At that, he looked up at Gandalf urgingly. The wizard sighed and nodded. “Indeed not. Might there be somewhere more private we can talk?”

Briefly looking up from the signature you were writing on a handkerchief, you nodded your head from side to side in thought and pursed your lips, speaking as you wrote. “I’ve got a room here. I’m not sure we’ll all fit, but I suppose we can figure something out."

You sent a wink Legolas’ way, whose face was still frozen somewhere between contemplation, shock, and horror.

“You should be dead,” he decided upon moments later.

Feigning alarm, you looked over your shoulder. “Why? The song really that bad? You hired the world’s worst assassin to take me out and they couldn’t even finish the job?”

Learning how to dance with your words again, Legolas replied straight to the point. “You look the same as you did all those years ago. You’re mortal. You should be dead, or very, very elderly, at the least.”

You blinked back at him. “Was there a question in there somewhere, or…?”

Noticing all the attention you were drawing, Gandalf and Aragorn decided to usher this meeting along elsewhere.

“Ah, Y/n,” Gandalf slid in, smiling tensely as he noticed Legolas’ fingers curl backwards, as if instinctively reaching for his bow. “Perhaps we should continue this upstairs? We have much to discuss, as mentioned before.”

You raked your eyes over the prince’s face for a further few seconds. He all but glared back. You dropped your eyes to his hands, noticing the way they curled the same as the wizard did. Smirking, you looked back up into the prince’s eyes – locking them there as you responded to Gandalf.

“Great idea.”

#oh to be a sexy medieval bard with the power to influence the masses on political figures #do you think legolas was a political figure? #I mean #he was a prince #what would you ransom him for? #personally I wouldn’t settle for less than half a Mirkwood armada’s worth of armour #but that’s just me 💅🏻 #Tolkien’s just praying every day I end up in hell #Legolas x reader #Legolas x y/n #Legolas x you #fellowship x reader #fellowship x you #lotr fanfic #company x you #company x y/n #company x reader #fellowship x y/n #lotr oneshot #lotr fic