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sharing a pipe under the starry sky 🌠
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But...
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DAISIES - pt 11
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Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader / soft oc
Words: 7.3k
Summary: Time goes by, and every moment you and Merry get closer. You finally admit your feelings to yourself, yet still feel too scared to admit them to him.
Possible TW's: Major panic attack
AN: I formed this chapter a little differently, as I wanted to make the passage of time slightly clearer. I hope you enjoy this one! We are close to some major events.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
----
August 10th
You showed Merry the small ladybug that had landed on the palm of your hand. Its back was a deep red color, a few black spots were here and there, and it was walking around your hand, almost like a little explorer. 
You took the small creature on the pointer finger of your free hand, and softly placed it on Merry's hand. He smiled as your skin touched his, and the bug started traveling across his arm. He picked up the ladybug with his fingers, and placed it on the tip of your nose. You tried to look at it, crossed your eyes to focus on the bug, and Merry cracked up at the sight. He softly lifted the red creature off your nose, and it flew far away.
The wind had been getting chillier, a sign that fall was nearing Hobbiton. The grass was slightly yellow all over the place, as the heatwave at the beginning of the month dried it up. Everyone was waiting for some rain to make the air fresh again and to water their crops.
You had not visited your brother after moving to Buckland. The moment you saw the green door of Bag End in the distance, excitement ran through your body and you sprinted towards your previous home. Merry ran behind you, and the two of you burst inside the door; just like you used to do.
"I'm home!" you shouted cheerfully. 
"In the kitchen!" Frodo responded. You felt thrilled to see him again, so you walked to the kitchen with fast steps. The speed you were walking with was too much for Merry, and he could not keep up with your pace.
When you entered the kitchen, you were surprised to see Samwise there as well. The second you saw your brother, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, and he returned the favor, you two falling into a warm embrace.
"I have missed you," you said, your cheek pressed against your brother's chest.
"I have missed you too, sister dear!" Frodo responded, and Sam coughed in the background.
"I am happy to see you too, Sam," you smiled, making Sam blush, slightly embarrassed. 
Merry was leaning against the round door frame, arms crossed and warmly looking at you. This was the first time Frodo had seen you and Merry together in a while, and as you two had grown even closer, he couldn't help but notice the way Merry was looking at you.
Even more than weeks before, his eyes were glimmering with admiration, his smile revealing just how deeply he cared for you. Frodo thought about how relieved he felt; Merry would stay with you when he left with Sam, and so would Pippin. You would have enough sources of support in case he would not return. In his heart he had no doubts that his friend had fallen for you, and there was no doubt; he would be there to take care of you. 
"How have you been?" Frodo asked cheerfully, as all of you gathered to have afternoon tea around the kitchen table.
"I am getting better at my job every day," you responded. "It has been quite difficult to figure everything out; and I am sure there is still much to learn! But for now, work feels absolutely fantastic."
"That is good to hear," Frodo responded, and before asking you more, he glanced at Merry meaningfully. "And how is everything else, sister dearest?"
You blushed vividly. You still had not admitted it to yourself. Not even though you and Merry were seemingly more comfortable around each other again, and Merry's hands shook less around you. You were sometimes feeling too nervous to even hold his hand. But why care about such a thing; after all, you had no feelings for him. Right?
"Everything is fine," you said, twirling your hair between your fingers and tapping your foot against the floor. "How are the moving preparations going?"
"Quite well," said Frodo with a proud smile. "Merry and Sam have been a big help. Merry has found me a house in Buckland. Crickhollow to be exact."
"I have mentioned it to her in passing," Merry commented, stirring his tea, whilst pouring more honey in it.
"I see," Frodo said, the other corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.
"Well, I am glad you are keeping her updated, Merry. Have you two spent a lot of time together, now that you live in the same settlement?"
"From what I have seen, both of them have been quite busy at work," said Sam. "But-"
"Work has been quite hectic," you said, not letting Sam finish his sentence in fear of him revealing to your brother just how much you spent time with Merry; you did not want to be a subject of teasing.
"Indeed," said Merry quietly, smiling as he sipped his tea.
"What have you been doing at Brandy Hall?" asked Frodo curiously. Sam blushed.
"Gardening, as requested by the Brandybucks," he responded, and Frodo inquired no more.
On the way back to Buckland, Merry showed you around places you had not yet seen.
"Do you see that small path?" he asked, pointing to your right. You took a step towards the direction, and Merry took your hand, stopping you in your tracks. "Take no step further. They say it's haunted. With ghosts and what not."
You turned your head, and on his face was a grin that he could not hide. You playfully nudged him, and he snorted. 
You and Merry continued walking, and your breath hitched as you noticed that neither of you took your hand off.
"What about that?" you asked, nodding towards the forest in the distance. 
"There have been rumors," he responded. 
"Rumors of what?" 
"That the trees walk sometimes, in the dark of the night. They can be heard talking," he said in a deep voice. "They say they come alive."
"Shut up," you laughed, squeezing his hand and keeping him moving.
"I'm being serious!" he cried, looking at you with the utmost offended face.
"Alright," you chuckled and leaned your forehead against his arm for a bit, and kept walking. As you rested against him, you felt the nervous, shy tremble that traveled through Merry. 
You arrived at Brandy Hall, and strolled through the yard before making your way in. You couldn't help but notice a few curious looks from fellow Hobbits, as they noticed you and Merry holding hands. 
'Don't mind them. You're just friends. There's no reason to care about their stares' you thought.
When you reached the front of Merry's room, he softly brushed his thumb on the back of your hand before letting go. A shiver made its way through your arm, to the back of your neck.
"Good night," he said, and entered his room. You stood there, looking at the door for a moment, anxiously. You desperately wanted to spend more time with him.
August 15th
Saradoc had already left the study, but you were still sitting there with a large pile of paperwork to do. He had left for Bree for some sort of a meeting, and left you in charge of many things that he normally would work on. 
"What does this even mean?" you mumbled to yourself, staring at the lengthy letter in front of you, the language of one you could not understand. You groaned in frustration, and tossed some of the papers on the floor. 
While your face was buried in your hands, Merry's mother had found her way to you. She knocked on the door softly, and immediately noticed the few tears on your face that you had shed out of stress.
"Are you alright, dear?" she asked, sitting down next to you, looking at you with worry.
"I am alright," you said, cleared your throat and wiped your eyes, trying to suffocate the tears of stress that were forcing their way out. "I am just slightly tired."
"Did my husband leave too much work for you to do? It has been hours since your work day was supposed to end."
"It's alright," you lied, another warm tear falling on your cheek. Esmeralda tenderly caressed your face and wiped your tears away.
"You need to rest," she said, voice full of motherly care. "You have done wonderfully, dear. You can end your work for the day. Do not stress yourself too much."
You nodded, and with a small sniffle left the room, Merry's mother talking to you the whole way back.
"Do you know when your brother is moving to Crickhollow?" she asked you.
"Not sure, but I believe he had given it a thought about doing it around his birthday."
"I can't believe how gracefully he has aged. Frodo certainly is not yet old, but even still, it's lucky how youthful he still looks," Esmeralda said, and you thought about it for the first time. Your older brother still indeed looked like he was just coming of age, yet it was many years ago. You had a rising suspicion that Gandalf had something to do with it, but decided not to say anything. 
"It's hereditary in a way, I suppose," you said. For the first time you found yourself thinking about how 'well preserved' your Uncle Bilbo was before he left. But even though you felt a little suspicious, you said nothing of the sort. "I mean, Uncle Bilbo was very gracefully aged before he..."
"Indeed," said Esmeralda, furrowing her brows. You immediately regretted mentioning Bilbo. "His disappearance years ago was certainly odd, to say the least."
You quickly wanted to change the subject, but could think of nothing. In a panic, you came up with the worst solution possible.
"Did you like Estella?" you blurted out, immediately feeling your face get flushed bright red. Awkwardness filled your body, and you turned your face away from Merry's mother. Never had you felt so embarrassed; why would you ask such a thing?
And Esmeralda smiled knowingly.
"I think she is a wonderful girl. We still keep in touch. But if you must know, I have always thought she was not the greatest partner my son could have. Why do you ask?"
She knew the pressure her words would bring you, and she clearly knew how you felt about his son; and definitely noticed that you were still strongly in denial.
"I was just curious," you mumbled.
"Well, I believe there is someone out there for my son who will complete him in a way no other Hobbit ever could," she said with a spark in her eye, and walked into the kitchen. You went into your room, closed the door behind you and leaned against it, hiding your face in your hands from embarrassment.
You left your room hours later when the outside of Brandy Hall had already gone dark. To your surprise, Pippin & Merry were about to knock on your door. They put their hands down in unison.
"Now, where do you think you're sneaking off to?" whispered Pippin in the darkness of the hallway, trying not to wake anyone up. 
"Now, what are you doing up, sneaking around my room?" you responded with a smirk.
"We are here to drag you out," Merry said, and both of them locked one of their arms around yours. "It's time to explore the water a little more, before it gets too cold!"
"Nuh uh! Never in a million years!"
And there you were, ankle deep in the warm, calmly flowing water of the Brandywine. The water looked almost black in the night, and the moonlight made it look like melted silver was flowing through it. It was unbelievably beautiful that night, and it almost looked like the Elves had made it.
"I can't go any deeper!" you exclaimed, frozen in the spot.
"Yes, you can!" Merry said, a few feet deeper in the water. Pippin waded towards you, and lifted you up in his arms with ease.
"Pippin!" you cried, and in fear wrapped your arms around his neck. Your eyes were widening with every step Peregrin took, and soon you were a few feet further from the shore, in the arms of your friend. "Please, put me down!"
"Already? How wonderful!" Pippin said joyfully, and started lowering you down.
"Wait, no! Do not put me down!" you panicked. Merry was looking at you in Pippin's embrace, and despite his full trust in his best friend, he could not help the heat of jealousy rising to his cheeks. He made his way next to you, and put his palm gently on top of your hand.
"You can do it," he said, trying to reassure you with his gentle smile and touch. 
"I don't think she can," Pippin said, clearly driving the conversation in a less encouraging direction. "Is she even brave enough?"
Merry took the mischievous hint at once and smirked. He knew you would want to prove them wrong
"Ah, that is true," said Merry, patting your hand in a way that felt extremely condescending, and there was a teasing twinkle in his eye. "She must not be brave. Kind of reminds me of a chicken."
Your face immediately dropped into one of annoyance, and despite knowing their intentions, you could not help your competitive side from surfacing.
And so you hopped off your friends arms, and the water splashed loudly as your feet hit the surface. Your feet touched the floor of the river, and the water was now halfway to your calves.
"Aha! I am not a chicken! And you two are the absolute worst!” you yelled victoriously, and quite annoyed. Both of them looked at you proudly.
"And you are one step closer to beating your fear," Merry smiled. 
All three of you walked back to the shore, feet soaked and grass getting stuck on them. Pippin was once again a little ahead of you, clearly full of satisfaction from helping you with a new accomplishment. 
You looked down at Merry's hand. He was rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together, itching to hold your hand. And you looked back in front of you, wondering if you were courageous enough to hold his hand in front of Pippin. Slowly, inch by inch your pinkie made its way next to his. As the warmth of his hand radiated on yours, the two of you discreetly wrapped your pinkies around one another. Neither of you gave even a glance at each other, but both of your faces were bright with a smile. 
August 21st
You got a letter from Frodo, where he confirmed to you that he was indeed moving to Buckland right after his birthday. You were eager to see him once more before he went on an adventure with Sam. 
You were partly jealous of his desire to follow Bilbo, who you missed so dearly. Ever since he left, there was a small piece of your heart missing, and you could not help but worry if he was alright out there, somewhere in Middle-Earth. 
You did not respond to his letter, as you knew your brother would assume you had received it, and read it with eagerness and much joy.
You knocked on Merry's door, only to find it empty. Disappointed, you decided to go do a little extra work in the study. Saradoc had already quit work for the day, but you were itching to get your mind off a lingering doubt, a small corner in your brain telling you that something was wrong. 
To your surprise, Merry was inside the study, in full focus, studying maps. You quietly walked behind him, and over his shoulder you took a look at what he was so eagerly observing.
He was turning the maps frantically, his fingers softly gliding along the brown parchment. He seemed to be tracing a path, which ended close to the Misty Mountains.
"What are you doing?" you asked curiously. Merry jumped, and the paper crinkled in his fist as he was startled by your sudden appearance.
"You scared me!" he said, his hand on his chest. "My heart is racing!"
"My apologies," you said warmly, taking a step next to him and leaning over the desk. "How come you're studying these maps so intensely?"
"I just find maps fascinating," he said casually, still trying to steady his breath from the scare.
"What's this road?" you asked, tracing the same area of the map he was going through just a few moments ago.
"I'm just trying to remember what roads Bilbo took in his adventures," Merry said, though he paused for a moment before answering. "I always found his stories fascinating, and I was feeling curious." 
You began to study the map eagerly. Your sense of direction had always been quite bad, and looking at the map was tiring your brain; but you were also curious on what roads your Uncle had taken. 
"He actually left plenty of maps behind," you said as you looked at the mountains spreading across the middle of the map.
"He did?" said Merry.
And soon enough, you were taking one of the maps Bilbo had drawn himself out of your drawers, and studied it with Merry, intensely for hours, while reminiscing the memorable adventures your Uncle Bilbo had gone through; the trolls that turned into stone, and even the riddles in a cave located somewhere in the Misty Mountains; and the ring he had won from a creature called Gollum. 
"Do you want to go out with me?" you asked Merry, whose eyes widened as he looked at you.
"What?"
"Oh, no!" you cried, frantically shaking your head, blushing violently. "I meant outside - on a walk. Not out with me. Not that you would want to go out with me. Nor that I would want to go with you. Not that I wouldn't-"
Merry laughed loudly from the bottom of his stomach. He stood up from the chair and nodded towards the door.
"Let's go for that walk," he said with a teasing grin. You felt flustered. You let out an awkward chuckle, and followed Merry outside. 
"Do you know anything about stars?" you asked, legs hanging from the edge of the bridge, the gusts of wind cooling you down. Merry had his eyes fixed on the night sky, and his gaze traveled across the different constellations, making him wonder about the complexity of the world and life itself. He was deep in his thoughts, his back pressed against the cold wood of the bridge. You called him by his name again, which seemed to snap him out of his daze.
"What?" he asked, still looking at the sky.
"I asked if you know anything about stars," you repeated in a soft tone. 
"Not much, only some names and stories."
"Could you give me an example?" you said, and Merry patted the spot next to him, and you laid down on your back. The bridge felt cool against the back of your thin dress, and you found yourself hoping you had dressed differently.
"I am not entirely sure of all the names, nor what stars are of which constellations," Merry admitted humbly. "I know more things on the ground-level. Roads and such."
"Just tell me," you said impatiently, but in a playful tone. Merry smiled warmly, and pointed at the sky.
"That, I believe, is Anarríma."
"Which star?" you asked for specifics. 
"All of those there, it's a constellation," he said, drawing a shape in the air in front of him. "I've heard stories of it being made from the dewdrops of one of the Two Trees of Valinor."
"What about that?" you asked, pointing at another star. 
"Eärendil," Merry responded immediately.
"Really?" you asked with excitement.
"No idea," Merry snickered. You laughed a little, and soon admired the stars in Merry's eyes, instead of the beautiful night sky above you both. 
He was once again lost in thought, and as you looked at his eyes, you felt your heart grow from affection. The blue in his eyes was deep and bright even in the darkness, and the longer you gazed into them, the more it felt like there was a whole universe in them, the beauty of it pulling you in and not being able to stop. 
Your gaze traveled from the glimmering stars in his eyes to his nose, and from it to the tips of his ears. You noticed the small mole on his neck, next to it a few barely visible freckles. The little dimple on his chin seemed deeper as there was a shadow on it, and his lips seemed dry; you wondered if he still picked skin off his lips when he was stressed. 
Merry did not notice you staring at him for a long time. His mind was elsewhere, wondering how much time he could spend with you before the time came, and how hard it would all turn out to be. 
He looked at the moon and stars, and he thought of how they reminded him of the spark in your eyes, and how the beauty of them was lesser to him than the sound of your laughter. He looked at the constellations, and thought how it was impossible for him to describe in words how much more beautiful you were than any of the stars above. 
You looked at him and thought of how much fun you had had with Merry for all your life, and how just his smile was always enough to make your day. You thought about how well he knew you, and about how he was always there to dry your tears. You thought about how happy he made you, and how much he believed in you. 
He had always been there to help you with your self esteem, and he made sure you always felt safe and protected. He felt like home. Recently, seeing him had become the highlight of your days (not that it wasn't before), and in that moment you finally admitted that much to yourself. Some part of you was still trying to deny it all; the feelings you had that so desperately were trying to surface. 
Merry turned his head so he could look at you, and you locked eyes with him. He seemed surprised to catch you staring, but unlike you had often done in the last month or so, you did not turn away. Instead, you gazed into each other's eyes, your thoughts lingering on one another. 
Neither of you spoke, and the only sounds that could be heard were the quiet bubbling of the river, the blowing of the wind, and the hoot of an owl somewhere in the distance. It was a moment of peace. Without words or any movements, both of you showed how much you appreciated one another, and how important this moment was to the two of you.
September 3rd
It was the third of September by Shire-reckoning, and the leaves were slowly starting to turn orange and yellow, some crisp brown ones already falling on the ground. The wind was getting colder, and it rained more often.
"Absolutely not!" you cried, the noises of the rain almost drowning under the sound of your desperation.
"Why not?" yelled Pippin, clearly frustrated. He kept trying to hand over the furry spider in his hand. "Just pet it!"
"I don't want to!" you said, leaning back in your chair, staring at the eight legged creature in your friend's hand. You were not fond of spiders, and Pippin was determined to change that about you.
"Please? I will get you some pipe-weed if you do!" Pippin said, trying his hardest to negotiate.
"Getting over one fear is enough, and we are not even halfway there!" you told Pippin, your body tingling uncomfortably as you looked at the furry legs on the spider.
"Come on! Just one pet!" Pippin said as he stood up and walked closer to you. You immediately started pulling backwards with your chair, eyes widening with anxiety. 
"Merry, make him stop!" you begged, and Merry ran from the counter to you. 
"Alright, that's enough," he said, and gently took the spider off Pippin's hand. He carried the creature delicately, and as Pippin was looking away, he tilted his palm behind his neck, the spider crawling underneath the young Tooks coat. Merry whistled innocently as he walked back to the counter, and came back with three rather large pieces of carrot cake. 
As the three of you were sitting down, Pippin twitched every now and then, obviously itchy. You shoved your fork in the cake, eating a large bite with no remorse.
"Everything alright?" you asked with a smirk when Pippin started scratching his neck.
"I am just feeling itchy," he grunted, trying desperately to reach his back.
"I sure hope there's no spider crawling under your clothes," Merry said, staring into Pippin's eyes, face completely emotionless while taking a bite of his moist carrot cake. 
Pippin's eye twitched, and like a bunny he hopped up from his chair, and frantically started tearing his coat off, hands rapidly trying to reach the itchy spots of his skin where the spider was crawling. 
"Get it off me!" Pippin screamed, his tone resembling the cries of a small child. You and Merry both laughed loudly, and you thanked him with a nod for having your back; and for doing the pranking on your behalf. 
You were stumbling over your own legs in the mud, finding it hard to keep balance. Merry was taking long steps ahead of you, and the rain had completely soaked all of you. Pippin could barely keep his eyes open in the rain, and he was squinting as he waved the two of you goodbye before slowly making his way home.
The road back home was challenging and tiring. There were traces of mud up to your knees, and you kept sinking into the mud every ten minutes when the ground changed from uphill to downhill. It was pouring down so heavily that you could barely see in front of you, and instead of grass, there seemed to be slimy, dark, wet and thick dirt everywhere, making it almost impossible to take even one step.
Your foot hit a branch hidden by the mud and you fell face first to the ground. The whole front of your body sank, and you spat some dirt out of your mouth. There was mud under your nails, under your clothes, between your toes and on your lips. Merry bent over and lifted you up by your armpits. You felt miserable, and his expression was not one of happiness either.
You walked with him for an hour more, the walk taking almost twice as long as it normally did.
You were shivering, irritated and wet when you finally made it to your room. Merry  let you know he was going to get you some clean towels so you could bathe in peace, even though the thought of any more water made you almost physically ill; but you had to get all the mud off. 
Before heating the bathwater you cleaned your drenched, dirty clothes and hung them up to dry; though the lace hem of your dress seemed like a lost cause. 
The bathwater was warm, and as you sank in the tub, it felt like all your worries washed away. 
Despite your fear of water, you loved taking long baths; after all it was not the same thing, since you could get out whenever you wanted and drowning in your own bathtub was very unlikely. You closed your eyes and your fingertips played with the water as you laid there, trying to empty your mind.
You got out of the bath after almost an hour. You finally felt clean and relaxed, all of the irritation created by the weather having washed away. You put on a warm, pale blue bathrobe and excited the bathroom. You made your way back to your room, the pattering of your feet echoing quietly in the hallway. 
Merry was leaning against the wall to the left of your door, and his eyes were closed. To you he looked like he had fallen asleep, but his eyes flashed open when he heard you, and a wide smile came across his face.
"Why aren't you sleeping yet?" you asked quietly, walking to him.
"I wanted to make sure you're okay," he said warmly, his eyes quickly shifting to look at your clothing. "You look cozy."
"I feel incredibly at peace right now," you chuckled in a whisper, and let your head collapse against his shoulder. "Thank you for not hating me. I was very agitated out there."
"In the bathroom?" joked Merry, and you let out a small snicker.
"Yes, in the bathroom," you replied sarcastically.
"It was no trouble," he said, resting his cheek on the top of your head, making your heart jump to your throat by the sudden response to your affection; despite it happening more and more frequently. You shuddered slightly, but said nothing about it.
"That weather was dreadful," you said quietly, shivering from just the thought of it. 
"Indeed," Merry said, and he lifted his head back up. "Hey," he said and gave you a nudge with his elbow. You lifted your head, looking him deep in his eyes. Your eyes were almost fluttering shut from how tired you felt, yet you could not stop looking at him. 
"What?" you said, your tired state obvious from your voice. 
"I mean it" he said, his tone full of affection, and his eyes glimmering with care and admiration as he looked at you. “It was no trouble. You know that, right?”
"I do," you responded with a soft smile. “I know I can count on you.”
It was almost like a habit at this point. The two of you looked at each other in silence, both getting lost in each other's eyes, minds endlessly racing with questions about what you really were feeling, wondering if it was mutual and how things would turn out; for the better or the worse. You both knew most of the answers already, though neither of you said it out loud to the other; it was too much of a risk to take. 
As you started to pull yourself back, you took a small glance at his lips, and when you were not looking, Merry glimpsed at yours. 
"Good night, Merry."
"Good night," he responded, and started walking to the direction of his room. 
You turned towards your door and were already halfway in, when Merry made his way back to you. Confused, you turned around and stood at your door. He did not even glance elsewhere, as his gaze was fixed on you.
The tension in the air was palpable, and the curiosity and anticipation in your heart grew. You looked at him, the pounding of your heart getting louder. Slowly he placed his hand on your cheek. His thumb brushed across the warmth of your blush, and you could not look him in his eyes as he caressed your face so gently. You swallowed nervously, avoiding his gaze and pressing your lips together. 
He lifted your face up with a tender motion, forcing you to look him in his eyes. He tilted his head as he smiled so fondly, and he admired you for a short moment before he leaned in. He pressed his lips softly on your forehead. You closed your eyes as a wave of affection pushed through you and filled your heart. His lips lingered between your brows before he softly pulled away. 
Shyly, you looked up at him, his hand still holding your face in a soft embrace. Never had you blushed this much before; you felt the heat all across your face, and it felt like your ears were about to burn off. His fingers caressed the curves of your pointy ear softly, before he let go of you.
"Good night," he said again.
"Good night," you said so quietly it was barely coherent. He put his hands in his pockets and walked away, once more smiling at you over his shoulder, before disappearing behind the corner.
You watched him walk away, and your hand was resting on your chest, right where your heart was pounding. You caressed the soft material of your bathrobe, and made your way in your room. You closed the door slowly, and walked to your bed in the darkness of the room. 
As you were laying there under your soft sheets, your face was still warm and the feeling of his lips was lingering on your skin. You could not stop thinking about his embrace and how disappointed you felt. When Merry turned back to you, hope in your heart had grown; you wished he would have kissed you. Not on the forehead, but you craved to know how it would feel to have his lips softly on yours.
And so, you finally admitted it to yourself: Merry's feelings were not one-sided. 
September 10th
You were avoiding Merry. Admitting your feelings to yourself was a big step for you, but the fear of rejection was creeping up your neck. What if he no longer had feelings for you, and that's why he had become more comfortable with physical touch again?
More than anything, you felt overwhelmed; how had you been so blind, almost all your life?
The paintbrush in your hand was shaking slightly, and the strokes of paint were uneven. You could not keep your focus on the painting no matter how hard you tried. All you could think about was Merry, and the fears that came with your emotions were smothering you. Insecurities were rising to the surface, and you could not stay still. 
You tossed the paintbrush on the canvas, frustrated by your own inability to gather up the courage to just confront Merry and ask him how he felt; if he still felt the same. The paint spread unevenly on the canvas, and a few drops of the blue splashed across your face. You let out a loud grunt of frustration, and shrank down on the floor. 
You lifted your knees up, and buried your face in them. Anxiety and a sense of failure was building up in your body, and your breathing became shallow. There was loud ringing in your ears that drowned away all the sounds around you. The beat of your heart was rapidly increasing, and cold sweat ran down your neck, and shivers went up your spine. You felt tears rising to your eyes, and as they started flowing down across your face, you lost the control of your own body.
The air felt tight around you; like it was trying to squeeze you between two hard walls, and you wanted to scream, but no air came out of your lungs. 
The fear of losing Merry had filled you again, the panic taking control over your brain and shaking your body. You were frozen to the spot, sobbing uncontrollably and the only thing you wanted to do was bury yourself in your best friend's arms.
There was a part of you hoping that everything would return back to normal; that none of it had happened. You were so overwhelmed with fear and anxiety, that you couldn't be around Merry. A part of you hoped it would have just stayed like it used to be; just two close friends, cuddling without anything else between them but platonic care; but deep down you knew now that it had never been like that. The feelings were always there; it just took you both years to realize it.
You could not take it anymore. The panic was burying every inch of you underneath it, so you mustered up the strength to get up, and run to Merry's room. You knocked on the door, your hands shaking and your thoughts unkempt. You felt like you were about to collapse from the dizziness when Merry opened his door.
His face turned into one of intense concern when he saw the tears in your eyes, and the uncontrollable shaking of your body. He saw the way you were swaying left and right, trying to keep yourself on your feet. He had helped you through many panic attacks in all the years you had been friends, and in a matter of seconds he had pulled you into his room and taken you into a warm, comforting embrace. 
Merry had been anxiously analyzing why you had been avoiding him, and finding you on his doorstep in such a state filled him with worry and fear.
"It's alright," he whispered softly, while stroking your hair with tender movements. Your face was buried in his chest, the tears covering the front of his shirt. He feared he had crossed a line and done something to upset you. "Did something happen?"
You shook your head, and your fists clung to the back of his shirt as you kept crying in his arms.
He gave you a glass of water, and the water kept spilling over the edge from the shakiness of your hands. Merry placed his hands gently over yours, steadying the glass. He helped you take a sip of it, looking at you, his eyes full of pity.
"Thank you," you said quietly, looking down at the glass and avoiding eye contact.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked in a tender, calming manner. 
"No."
"That's alright," he said, his thumbs softly caressing the backs of your hands. 
You sat there on the edge of his bed in silence, and Merry said nothing either. He comforted you for a long time, caressing your hands until you stopped shaking.
"Merry," you said, voice cracking again, the tears trying to resurface. You looked at him, swallowing and holding back tears. He was kneeling in front of you, still softly petting your hands. You had to tell him. It was killing you. You had to gather yourself.
"Yes?" Merry responded, still visibly worried.
"Can I stay here for the night?" you said, disappointed with yourself for not being able to tell him just how deeply you felt for him. 
Merry gave you a soft nod, and got up. He walked to a large closet in his room, and took a moment to find the most comfortable blanket he had. He pulled the duvet cover off the left side of the bed, and placed the blanket he had dug out for you on that side. 
You got up, and with unsteady steps you made your way to your resting place for the night. Merry put his palm softly on your back and helped you lay down. He pulled the blanket over your shaking body, and went to blow out the candles. He crawled under his blanket, and slightly to your side of the bed. You were laying on your side, your back facing him, when he wrapped his arm around you tightly, and gave a soft peck on the top of your hair. You trembled, and pressed your back tightly against his chest, squeezing his hand.
"It's going to be alright," he whispered, and held to your hand tightly. 
In no time you had calmed down, and drifted off to the most peaceful sleep you had had in a week. Merry did not sleep, but he held you through the whole night, hoping he could stay there forever. 
September 12th
You were sitting across Frodo, enjoying some freshly baked bread. The butter melted on your tongue, and you moaned your mouth full of bread from the taste.
"This is delicious!" you mumbled, taking another large bite. Frodo was looking at you, faintly smiling. 
You were eating there, blabbering about your new job, and thanking your brother endlessly for helping you get back to work. 
Some of the stuff in Bag End had already been sold or given to family members and friends, and the feeling of home was slightly being drained away. You were lucky enough to have Merry so close to you, so the feeling of being home was not going to disappear completely once Frodo moved out.
"Have you enjoyed helping Saradoc with his work?" Frodo asked, sipping his freshly squeezed orange juice. 
"Yes, but it's very draining from time to time," you responded. You took a moment to enjoy some full red wine Frodo had offered you, before you continued explaining the complexity of assignments working for the Master of Buckland brought.
Frodo was listening to you intensely, enjoying your company more than ever, as he knew he had to leave soon. Gandalf had warned him about the dangers of carrying the Ring, even to just Rivendell; and he was fearing he might never see you again. 
You were so enthusiastically telling the story of Merry and Pippin helping you go deeper in the Brandywine again, that you did not notice how much sorrow there was in your brother's eyes, or how guilty he was feeling.
When you finished telling the story of conquering yet another step of coming over your fears, Frodo fixed his composure and smiled at you, hiding his concerned heart.
"You seem happy," he said warmly.
You responded with a faint smile. Desperately you wanted to ask for his advice. You were itching to tell him about everything that had been going on with you and Merry, but the thought of opening up your heart to anyone was making you feel uneasy. But you decided to try it regardless.
"Can I ask you something?" you asked him, not noticing how forcefully your hands were fidgeting with the cutlery in your hands. Frodo took note of it, but decided to pretend he had noticed nothing.
"Of course," he said. "What's on your mind?"
You struggled to find the right words. There was an overwhelming need to tell him everything; how good it felt when Merry held you, and how deep your feelings for him were.
"Would you tell someone if you had realized you felt more for them? More than a friendship?" you asked, deciding to go through a different but direct route when it came to getting advice from your brother. He smiled knowingly.
"Do they feel the same way?" Frodo asked, trying to keep you as comfortable as he could. 
"I am not sure," you responded honestly, and dropped the fork you were fiddling with. It hit the floor with a loud cling, but you were too focused on asking for help to pick it up and clean it. You were trying to avoid giving away who you were talking about; even though Frodo knew.
"I think communicating about these things are important," he said. "If you feel like they feel the same way about you, you should talk to them about it. And even if they didn't; I believe it would be wise to tell."
"But what if I'm afraid?" 
"Fear is a part of life," Frodo said, shifting in his seat. "You just have to accept that there are many ways the conversation could go. It could end in happiness or heartbreak. You just have to take the leap, and accept the result; even if it feels unbearable as a thought right now."
You gave him a half-smile, and kept drinking your wine in silence. Deep in your thoughts, you finished your glass of red, and Frodo filled it to the top. 
His words were wise, and you knew it was the right decision to go to your brother for advice.
"Thank you," you said quietly.
"Can I ask you something in return?" Frodo asked. 
"Yes," you nodded. 
"Are you talking about Pervinca Took?" he said, smirking as he knew you used to have a crush on Pippin's sister. He was trying to make you laugh a little, as he was of course not oblivious to the fact that you were talking about Merry.
You looked down at your glass, swirling around the red wine. A faint, amused smile was on your face.
"You know I'm not talking about her," you said quietly.
"Indeed, I do."
You nodded, and took another rather large sip of the full bodied wine. 
----
@chatteringfox @shiinata-library @ahobbitsjourney23 @mayo-advance @datglutengoblin @mournthewicked
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shiinata-library · 1 day
Text
It was a good idea to add dates! It's stressing me out, but it helps us understand Merry even better.
Since the begining, I'm wondering what's going to happen when Merry and Pippin leave. I can't wait... 😱
DAISIES - pt 11
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Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader / soft oc
Words: 7.3k
Summary: Time goes by, and every moment you and Merry get closer. You finally admit your feelings to yourself, yet still feel too scared to admit them to him.
Possible TW's: Major panic attack
AN: I formed this chapter a little differently, as I wanted to make the passage of time slightly clearer. I hope you enjoy this one! We are close to some major events.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
----
August 10th
You showed Merry the small ladybug that had landed on the palm of your hand. Its back was a deep red color, a few black spots were here and there, and it was walking around your hand, almost like a little explorer. 
You took the small creature on the pointer finger of your free hand, and softly placed it on Merry's hand. He smiled as your skin touched his, and the bug started traveling across his arm. He picked up the ladybug with his fingers, and placed it on the tip of your nose. You tried to look at it, crossed your eyes to focus on the bug, and Merry cracked up at the sight. He softly lifted the red creature off your nose, and it flew far away.
The wind had been getting chillier, a sign that fall was nearing Hobbiton. The grass was slightly yellow all over the place, as the heatwave at the beginning of the month dried it up. Everyone was waiting for some rain to make the air fresh again and to water their crops.
You had not visited your brother after moving to Buckland. The moment you saw the green door of Bag End in the distance, excitement ran through your body and you sprinted towards your previous home. Merry ran behind you, and the two of you burst inside the door; just like you used to do.
"I'm home!" you shouted cheerfully. 
"In the kitchen!" Frodo responded. You felt thrilled to see him again, so you walked to the kitchen with fast steps. The speed you were walking with was too much for Merry, and he could not keep up with your pace.
When you entered the kitchen, you were surprised to see Samwise there as well. The second you saw your brother, you wrapped your arms around him tightly, and he returned the favor, you two falling into a warm embrace.
"I have missed you," you said, your cheek pressed against your brother's chest.
"I have missed you too, sister dear!" Frodo responded, and Sam coughed in the background.
"I am happy to see you too, Sam," you smiled, making Sam blush, slightly embarrassed. 
Merry was leaning against the round door frame, arms crossed and warmly looking at you. This was the first time Frodo had seen you and Merry together in a while, and as you two had grown even closer, he couldn't help but notice the way Merry was looking at you.
Even more than weeks before, his eyes were glimmering with admiration, his smile revealing just how deeply he cared for you. Frodo thought about how relieved he felt; Merry would stay with you when he left with Sam, and so would Pippin. You would have enough sources of support in case he would not return. In his heart he had no doubts that his friend had fallen for you, and there was no doubt; he would be there to take care of you. 
"How have you been?" Frodo asked cheerfully, as all of you gathered to have afternoon tea around the kitchen table.
"I am getting better at my job every day," you responded. "It has been quite difficult to figure everything out; and I am sure there is still much to learn! But for now, work feels absolutely fantastic."
"That is good to hear," Frodo responded, and before asking you more, he glanced at Merry meaningfully. "And how is everything else, sister dearest?"
You blushed vividly. You still had not admitted it to yourself. Not even though you and Merry were seemingly more comfortable around each other again, and Merry's hands shook less around you. You were sometimes feeling too nervous to even hold his hand. But why care about such a thing; after all, you had no feelings for him. Right?
"Everything is fine," you said, twirling your hair between your fingers and tapping your foot against the floor. "How are the moving preparations going?"
"Quite well," said Frodo with a proud smile. "Merry and Sam have been a big help. Merry has found me a house in Buckland. Crickhollow to be exact."
"I have mentioned it to her in passing," Merry commented, stirring his tea, whilst pouring more honey in it.
"I see," Frodo said, the other corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.
"Well, I am glad you are keeping her updated, Merry. Have you two spent a lot of time together, now that you live in the same settlement?"
"From what I have seen, both of them have been quite busy at work," said Sam. "But-"
"Work has been quite hectic," you said, not letting Sam finish his sentence in fear of him revealing to your brother just how much you spent time with Merry; you did not want to be a subject of teasing.
"Indeed," said Merry quietly, smiling as he sipped his tea.
"What have you been doing at Brandy Hall?" asked Frodo curiously. Sam blushed.
"Gardening, as requested by the Brandybucks," he responded, and Frodo inquired no more.
On the way back to Buckland, Merry showed you around places you had not yet seen.
"Do you see that small path?" he asked, pointing to your right. You took a step towards the direction, and Merry took your hand, stopping you in your tracks. "Take no step further. They say it's haunted. With ghosts and what not."
You turned your head, and on his face was a grin that he could not hide. You playfully nudged him, and he snorted. 
You and Merry continued walking, and your breath hitched as you noticed that neither of you took your hand off.
"What about that?" you asked, nodding towards the forest in the distance. 
"There have been rumors," he responded. 
"Rumors of what?" 
"That the trees walk sometimes, in the dark of the night. They can be heard talking," he said in a deep voice. "They say they come alive."
"Shut up," you laughed, squeezing his hand and keeping him moving.
"I'm being serious!" he cried, looking at you with the utmost offended face.
"Alright," you chuckled and leaned your forehead against his arm for a bit, and kept walking. As you rested against him, you felt the nervous, shy tremble that traveled through Merry. 
You arrived at Brandy Hall, and strolled through the yard before making your way in. You couldn't help but notice a few curious looks from fellow Hobbits, as they noticed you and Merry holding hands. 
'Don't mind them. You're just friends. There's no reason to care about their stares' you thought.
When you reached the front of Merry's room, he softly brushed his thumb on the back of your hand before letting go. A shiver made its way through your arm, to the back of your neck.
"Good night," he said, and entered his room. You stood there, looking at the door for a moment, anxiously. You desperately wanted to spend more time with him.
August 15th
Saradoc had already left the study, but you were still sitting there with a large pile of paperwork to do. He had left for Bree for some sort of a meeting, and left you in charge of many things that he normally would work on. 
"What does this even mean?" you mumbled to yourself, staring at the lengthy letter in front of you, the language of one you could not understand. You groaned in frustration, and tossed some of the papers on the floor. 
While your face was buried in your hands, Merry's mother had found her way to you. She knocked on the door softly, and immediately noticed the few tears on your face that you had shed out of stress.
"Are you alright, dear?" she asked, sitting down next to you, looking at you with worry.
"I am alright," you said, cleared your throat and wiped your eyes, trying to suffocate the tears of stress that were forcing their way out. "I am just slightly tired."
"Did my husband leave too much work for you to do? It has been hours since your work day was supposed to end."
"It's alright," you lied, another warm tear falling on your cheek. Esmeralda tenderly caressed your face and wiped your tears away.
"You need to rest," she said, voice full of motherly care. "You have done wonderfully, dear. You can end your work for the day. Do not stress yourself too much."
You nodded, and with a small sniffle left the room, Merry's mother talking to you the whole way back.
"Do you know when your brother is moving to Crickhollow?" she asked you.
"Not sure, but I believe he had given it a thought about doing it around his birthday."
"I can't believe how gracefully he has aged. Frodo certainly is not yet old, but even still, it's lucky how youthful he still looks," Esmeralda said, and you thought about it for the first time. Your older brother still indeed looked like he was just coming of age, yet it was many years ago. You had a rising suspicion that Gandalf had something to do with it, but decided not to say anything. 
"It's hereditary in a way, I suppose," you said. For the first time you found yourself thinking about how 'well preserved' your Uncle Bilbo was before he left. But even though you felt a little suspicious, you said nothing of the sort. "I mean, Uncle Bilbo was very gracefully aged before he..."
"Indeed," said Esmeralda, furrowing her brows. You immediately regretted mentioning Bilbo. "His disappearance years ago was certainly odd, to say the least."
You quickly wanted to change the subject, but could think of nothing. In a panic, you came up with the worst solution possible.
"Did you like Estella?" you blurted out, immediately feeling your face get flushed bright red. Awkwardness filled your body, and you turned your face away from Merry's mother. Never had you felt so embarrassed; why would you ask such a thing?
And Esmeralda smiled knowingly.
"I think she is a wonderful girl. We still keep in touch. But if you must know, I have always thought she was not the greatest partner my son could have. Why do you ask?"
She knew the pressure her words would bring you, and she clearly knew how you felt about his son; and definitely noticed that you were still strongly in denial.
"I was just curious," you mumbled.
"Well, I believe there is someone out there for my son who will complete him in a way no other Hobbit ever could," she said with a spark in her eye, and walked into the kitchen. You went into your room, closed the door behind you and leaned against it, hiding your face in your hands from embarrassment.
You left your room hours later when the outside of Brandy Hall had already gone dark. To your surprise, Pippin & Merry were about to knock on your door. They put their hands down in unison.
"Now, where do you think you're sneaking off to?" whispered Pippin in the darkness of the hallway, trying not to wake anyone up. 
"Now, what are you doing up, sneaking around my room?" you responded with a smirk.
"We are here to drag you out," Merry said, and both of them locked one of their arms around yours. "It's time to explore the water a little more, before it gets too cold!"
"Nuh uh! Never in a million years!"
And there you were, ankle deep in the warm, calmly flowing water of the Brandywine. The water looked almost black in the night, and the moonlight made it look like melted silver was flowing through it. It was unbelievably beautiful that night, and it almost looked like the Elves had made it.
"I can't go any deeper!" you exclaimed, frozen in the spot.
"Yes, you can!" Merry said, a few feet deeper in the water. Pippin waded towards you, and lifted you up in his arms with ease.
"Pippin!" you cried, and in fear wrapped your arms around his neck. Your eyes were widening with every step Peregrin took, and soon you were a few feet further from the shore, in the arms of your friend. "Please, put me down!"
"Already? How wonderful!" Pippin said joyfully, and started lowering you down.
"Wait, no! Do not put me down!" you panicked. Merry was looking at you in Pippin's embrace, and despite his full trust in his best friend, he could not help the heat of jealousy rising to his cheeks. He made his way next to you, and put his palm gently on top of your hand.
"You can do it," he said, trying to reassure you with his gentle smile and touch. 
"I don't think she can," Pippin said, clearly driving the conversation in a less encouraging direction. "Is she even brave enough?"
Merry took the mischievous hint at once and smirked. He knew you would want to prove them wrong
"Ah, that is true," said Merry, patting your hand in a way that felt extremely condescending, and there was a teasing twinkle in his eye. "She must not be brave. Kind of reminds me of a chicken."
Your face immediately dropped into one of annoyance, and despite knowing their intentions, you could not help your competitive side from surfacing.
And so you hopped off your friends arms, and the water splashed loudly as your feet hit the surface. Your feet touched the floor of the river, and the water was now halfway to your calves.
"Aha! I am not a chicken! And you two are the absolute worst!” you yelled victoriously, and quite annoyed. Both of them looked at you proudly.
"And you are one step closer to beating your fear," Merry smiled. 
All three of you walked back to the shore, feet soaked and grass getting stuck on them. Pippin was once again a little ahead of you, clearly full of satisfaction from helping you with a new accomplishment. 
You looked down at Merry's hand. He was rubbing his thumb and pointer finger together, itching to hold your hand. And you looked back in front of you, wondering if you were courageous enough to hold his hand in front of Pippin. Slowly, inch by inch your pinkie made its way next to his. As the warmth of his hand radiated on yours, the two of you discreetly wrapped your pinkies around one another. Neither of you gave even a glance at each other, but both of your faces were bright with a smile. 
August 21st
You got a letter from Frodo, where he confirmed to you that he was indeed moving to Buckland right after his birthday. You were eager to see him once more before he went on an adventure with Sam. 
You were partly jealous of his desire to follow Bilbo, who you missed so dearly. Ever since he left, there was a small piece of your heart missing, and you could not help but worry if he was alright out there, somewhere in Middle-Earth. 
You did not respond to his letter, as you knew your brother would assume you had received it, and read it with eagerness and much joy.
You knocked on Merry's door, only to find it empty. Disappointed, you decided to go do a little extra work in the study. Saradoc had already quit work for the day, but you were itching to get your mind off a lingering doubt, a small corner in your brain telling you that something was wrong. 
To your surprise, Merry was inside the study, in full focus, studying maps. You quietly walked behind him, and over his shoulder you took a look at what he was so eagerly observing.
He was turning the maps frantically, his fingers softly gliding along the brown parchment. He seemed to be tracing a path, which ended close to the Misty Mountains.
"What are you doing?" you asked curiously. Merry jumped, and the paper crinkled in his fist as he was startled by your sudden appearance.
"You scared me!" he said, his hand on his chest. "My heart is racing!"
"My apologies," you said warmly, taking a step next to him and leaning over the desk. "How come you're studying these maps so intensely?"
"I just find maps fascinating," he said casually, still trying to steady his breath from the scare.
"What's this road?" you asked, tracing the same area of the map he was going through just a few moments ago.
"I'm just trying to remember what roads Bilbo took in his adventures," Merry said, though he paused for a moment before answering. "I always found his stories fascinating, and I was feeling curious." 
You began to study the map eagerly. Your sense of direction had always been quite bad, and looking at the map was tiring your brain; but you were also curious on what roads your Uncle had taken. 
"He actually left plenty of maps behind," you said as you looked at the mountains spreading across the middle of the map.
"He did?" said Merry.
And soon enough, you were taking one of the maps Bilbo had drawn himself out of your drawers, and studied it with Merry, intensely for hours, while reminiscing the memorable adventures your Uncle Bilbo had gone through; the trolls that turned into stone, and even the riddles in a cave located somewhere in the Misty Mountains; and the ring he had won from a creature called Gollum. 
"Do you want to go out with me?" you asked Merry, whose eyes widened as he looked at you.
"What?"
"Oh, no!" you cried, frantically shaking your head, blushing violently. "I meant outside - on a walk. Not out with me. Not that you would want to go out with me. Nor that I would want to go with you. Not that I wouldn't-"
Merry laughed loudly from the bottom of his stomach. He stood up from the chair and nodded towards the door.
"Let's go for that walk," he said with a teasing grin. You felt flustered. You let out an awkward chuckle, and followed Merry outside. 
"Do you know anything about stars?" you asked, legs hanging from the edge of the bridge, the gusts of wind cooling you down. Merry had his eyes fixed on the night sky, and his gaze traveled across the different constellations, making him wonder about the complexity of the world and life itself. He was deep in his thoughts, his back pressed against the cold wood of the bridge. You called him by his name again, which seemed to snap him out of his daze.
"What?" he asked, still looking at the sky.
"I asked if you know anything about stars," you repeated in a soft tone. 
"Not much, only some names and stories."
"Could you give me an example?" you said, and Merry patted the spot next to him, and you laid down on your back. The bridge felt cool against the back of your thin dress, and you found yourself hoping you had dressed differently.
"I am not entirely sure of all the names, nor what stars are of which constellations," Merry admitted humbly. "I know more things on the ground-level. Roads and such."
"Just tell me," you said impatiently, but in a playful tone. Merry smiled warmly, and pointed at the sky.
"That, I believe, is Anarríma."
"Which star?" you asked for specifics. 
"All of those there, it's a constellation," he said, drawing a shape in the air in front of him. "I've heard stories of it being made from the dewdrops of one of the Two Trees of Valinor."
"What about that?" you asked, pointing at another star. 
"Eärendil," Merry responded immediately.
"Really?" you asked with excitement.
"No idea," Merry snickered. You laughed a little, and soon admired the stars in Merry's eyes, instead of the beautiful night sky above you both. 
He was once again lost in thought, and as you looked at his eyes, you felt your heart grow from affection. The blue in his eyes was deep and bright even in the darkness, and the longer you gazed into them, the more it felt like there was a whole universe in them, the beauty of it pulling you in and not being able to stop. 
Your gaze traveled from the glimmering stars in his eyes to his nose, and from it to the tips of his ears. You noticed the small mole on his neck, next to it a few barely visible freckles. The little dimple on his chin seemed deeper as there was a shadow on it, and his lips seemed dry; you wondered if he still picked skin off his lips when he was stressed. 
Merry did not notice you staring at him for a long time. His mind was elsewhere, wondering how much time he could spend with you before the time came, and how hard it would all turn out to be. 
He looked at the moon and stars, and he thought of how they reminded him of the spark in your eyes, and how the beauty of them was lesser to him than the sound of your laughter. He looked at the constellations, and thought how it was impossible for him to describe in words how much more beautiful you were than any of the stars above. 
You looked at him and thought of how much fun you had had with Merry for all your life, and how just his smile was always enough to make your day. You thought about how well he knew you, and about how he was always there to dry your tears. You thought about how happy he made you, and how much he believed in you. 
He had always been there to help you with your self esteem, and he made sure you always felt safe and protected. He felt like home. Recently, seeing him had become the highlight of your days (not that it wasn't before), and in that moment you finally admitted that much to yourself. Some part of you was still trying to deny it all; the feelings you had that so desperately were trying to surface. 
Merry turned his head so he could look at you, and you locked eyes with him. He seemed surprised to catch you staring, but unlike you had often done in the last month or so, you did not turn away. Instead, you gazed into each other's eyes, your thoughts lingering on one another. 
Neither of you spoke, and the only sounds that could be heard were the quiet bubbling of the river, the blowing of the wind, and the hoot of an owl somewhere in the distance. It was a moment of peace. Without words or any movements, both of you showed how much you appreciated one another, and how important this moment was to the two of you.
September 3rd
It was the third of September by Shire-reckoning, and the leaves were slowly starting to turn orange and yellow, some crisp brown ones already falling on the ground. The wind was getting colder, and it rained more often.
"Absolutely not!" you cried, the noises of the rain almost drowning under the sound of your desperation.
"Why not?" yelled Pippin, clearly frustrated. He kept trying to hand over the furry spider in his hand. "Just pet it!"
"I don't want to!" you said, leaning back in your chair, staring at the eight legged creature in your friend's hand. You were not fond of spiders, and Pippin was determined to change that about you.
"Please? I will get you some pipe-weed if you do!" Pippin said, trying his hardest to negotiate.
"Getting over one fear is enough, and we are not even halfway there!" you told Pippin, your body tingling uncomfortably as you looked at the furry legs on the spider.
"Come on! Just one pet!" Pippin said as he stood up and walked closer to you. You immediately started pulling backwards with your chair, eyes widening with anxiety. 
"Merry, make him stop!" you begged, and Merry ran from the counter to you. 
"Alright, that's enough," he said, and gently took the spider off Pippin's hand. He carried the creature delicately, and as Pippin was looking away, he tilted his palm behind his neck, the spider crawling underneath the young Tooks coat. Merry whistled innocently as he walked back to the counter, and came back with three rather large pieces of carrot cake. 
As the three of you were sitting down, Pippin twitched every now and then, obviously itchy. You shoved your fork in the cake, eating a large bite with no remorse.
"Everything alright?" you asked with a smirk when Pippin started scratching his neck.
"I am just feeling itchy," he grunted, trying desperately to reach his back.
"I sure hope there's no spider crawling under your clothes," Merry said, staring into Pippin's eyes, face completely emotionless while taking a bite of his moist carrot cake. 
Pippin's eye twitched, and like a bunny he hopped up from his chair, and frantically started tearing his coat off, hands rapidly trying to reach the itchy spots of his skin where the spider was crawling. 
"Get it off me!" Pippin screamed, his tone resembling the cries of a small child. You and Merry both laughed loudly, and you thanked him with a nod for having your back; and for doing the pranking on your behalf. 
You were stumbling over your own legs in the mud, finding it hard to keep balance. Merry was taking long steps ahead of you, and the rain had completely soaked all of you. Pippin could barely keep his eyes open in the rain, and he was squinting as he waved the two of you goodbye before slowly making his way home.
The road back home was challenging and tiring. There were traces of mud up to your knees, and you kept sinking into the mud every ten minutes when the ground changed from uphill to downhill. It was pouring down so heavily that you could barely see in front of you, and instead of grass, there seemed to be slimy, dark, wet and thick dirt everywhere, making it almost impossible to take even one step.
Your foot hit a branch hidden by the mud and you fell face first to the ground. The whole front of your body sank, and you spat some dirt out of your mouth. There was mud under your nails, under your clothes, between your toes and on your lips. Merry bent over and lifted you up by your armpits. You felt miserable, and his expression was not one of happiness either.
You walked with him for an hour more, the walk taking almost twice as long as it normally did.
You were shivering, irritated and wet when you finally made it to your room. Merry  let you know he was going to get you some clean towels so you could bathe in peace, even though the thought of any more water made you almost physically ill; but you had to get all the mud off. 
Before heating the bathwater you cleaned your drenched, dirty clothes and hung them up to dry; though the lace hem of your dress seemed like a lost cause. 
The bathwater was warm, and as you sank in the tub, it felt like all your worries washed away. 
Despite your fear of water, you loved taking long baths; after all it was not the same thing, since you could get out whenever you wanted and drowning in your own bathtub was very unlikely. You closed your eyes and your fingertips played with the water as you laid there, trying to empty your mind.
You got out of the bath after almost an hour. You finally felt clean and relaxed, all of the irritation created by the weather having washed away. You put on a warm, pale blue bathrobe and excited the bathroom. You made your way back to your room, the pattering of your feet echoing quietly in the hallway. 
Merry was leaning against the wall to the left of your door, and his eyes were closed. To you he looked like he had fallen asleep, but his eyes flashed open when he heard you, and a wide smile came across his face.
"Why aren't you sleeping yet?" you asked quietly, walking to him.
"I wanted to make sure you're okay," he said warmly, his eyes quickly shifting to look at your clothing. "You look cozy."
"I feel incredibly at peace right now," you chuckled in a whisper, and let your head collapse against his shoulder. "Thank you for not hating me. I was very agitated out there."
"In the bathroom?" joked Merry, and you let out a small snicker.
"Yes, in the bathroom," you replied sarcastically.
"It was no trouble," he said, resting his cheek on the top of your head, making your heart jump to your throat by the sudden response to your affection; despite it happening more and more frequently. You shuddered slightly, but said nothing about it.
"That weather was dreadful," you said quietly, shivering from just the thought of it. 
"Indeed," Merry said, and he lifted his head back up. "Hey," he said and gave you a nudge with his elbow. You lifted your head, looking him deep in his eyes. Your eyes were almost fluttering shut from how tired you felt, yet you could not stop looking at him. 
"What?" you said, your tired state obvious from your voice. 
"I mean it" he said, his tone full of affection, and his eyes glimmering with care and admiration as he looked at you. “It was no trouble. You know that, right?”
"I do," you responded with a soft smile. “I know I can count on you.”
It was almost like a habit at this point. The two of you looked at each other in silence, both getting lost in each other's eyes, minds endlessly racing with questions about what you really were feeling, wondering if it was mutual and how things would turn out; for the better or the worse. You both knew most of the answers already, though neither of you said it out loud to the other; it was too much of a risk to take. 
As you started to pull yourself back, you took a small glance at his lips, and when you were not looking, Merry glimpsed at yours. 
"Good night, Merry."
"Good night," he responded, and started walking to the direction of his room. 
You turned towards your door and were already halfway in, when Merry made his way back to you. Confused, you turned around and stood at your door. He did not even glance elsewhere, as his gaze was fixed on you.
The tension in the air was palpable, and the curiosity and anticipation in your heart grew. You looked at him, the pounding of your heart getting louder. Slowly he placed his hand on your cheek. His thumb brushed across the warmth of your blush, and you could not look him in his eyes as he caressed your face so gently. You swallowed nervously, avoiding his gaze and pressing your lips together. 
He lifted your face up with a tender motion, forcing you to look him in his eyes. He tilted his head as he smiled so fondly, and he admired you for a short moment before he leaned in. He pressed his lips softly on your forehead. You closed your eyes as a wave of affection pushed through you and filled your heart. His lips lingered between your brows before he softly pulled away. 
Shyly, you looked up at him, his hand still holding your face in a soft embrace. Never had you blushed this much before; you felt the heat all across your face, and it felt like your ears were about to burn off. His fingers caressed the curves of your pointy ear softly, before he let go of you.
"Good night," he said again.
"Good night," you said so quietly it was barely coherent. He put his hands in his pockets and walked away, once more smiling at you over his shoulder, before disappearing behind the corner.
You watched him walk away, and your hand was resting on your chest, right where your heart was pounding. You caressed the soft material of your bathrobe, and made your way in your room. You closed the door slowly, and walked to your bed in the darkness of the room. 
As you were laying there under your soft sheets, your face was still warm and the feeling of his lips was lingering on your skin. You could not stop thinking about his embrace and how disappointed you felt. When Merry turned back to you, hope in your heart had grown; you wished he would have kissed you. Not on the forehead, but you craved to know how it would feel to have his lips softly on yours.
And so, you finally admitted it to yourself: Merry's feelings were not one-sided. 
September 10th
You were avoiding Merry. Admitting your feelings to yourself was a big step for you, but the fear of rejection was creeping up your neck. What if he no longer had feelings for you, and that's why he had become more comfortable with physical touch again?
More than anything, you felt overwhelmed; how had you been so blind, almost all your life?
The paintbrush in your hand was shaking slightly, and the strokes of paint were uneven. You could not keep your focus on the painting no matter how hard you tried. All you could think about was Merry, and the fears that came with your emotions were smothering you. Insecurities were rising to the surface, and you could not stay still. 
You tossed the paintbrush on the canvas, frustrated by your own inability to gather up the courage to just confront Merry and ask him how he felt; if he still felt the same. The paint spread unevenly on the canvas, and a few drops of the blue splashed across your face. You let out a loud grunt of frustration, and shrank down on the floor. 
You lifted your knees up, and buried your face in them. Anxiety and a sense of failure was building up in your body, and your breathing became shallow. There was loud ringing in your ears that drowned away all the sounds around you. The beat of your heart was rapidly increasing, and cold sweat ran down your neck, and shivers went up your spine. You felt tears rising to your eyes, and as they started flowing down across your face, you lost the control of your own body.
The air felt tight around you; like it was trying to squeeze you between two hard walls, and you wanted to scream, but no air came out of your lungs. 
The fear of losing Merry had filled you again, the panic taking control over your brain and shaking your body. You were frozen to the spot, sobbing uncontrollably and the only thing you wanted to do was bury yourself in your best friend's arms.
There was a part of you hoping that everything would return back to normal; that none of it had happened. You were so overwhelmed with fear and anxiety, that you couldn't be around Merry. A part of you hoped it would have just stayed like it used to be; just two close friends, cuddling without anything else between them but platonic care; but deep down you knew now that it had never been like that. The feelings were always there; it just took you both years to realize it.
You could not take it anymore. The panic was burying every inch of you underneath it, so you mustered up the strength to get up, and run to Merry's room. You knocked on the door, your hands shaking and your thoughts unkempt. You felt like you were about to collapse from the dizziness when Merry opened his door.
His face turned into one of intense concern when he saw the tears in your eyes, and the uncontrollable shaking of your body. He saw the way you were swaying left and right, trying to keep yourself on your feet. He had helped you through many panic attacks in all the years you had been friends, and in a matter of seconds he had pulled you into his room and taken you into a warm, comforting embrace. 
Merry had been anxiously analyzing why you had been avoiding him, and finding you on his doorstep in such a state filled him with worry and fear.
"It's alright," he whispered softly, while stroking your hair with tender movements. Your face was buried in his chest, the tears covering the front of his shirt. He feared he had crossed a line and done something to upset you. "Did something happen?"
You shook your head, and your fists clung to the back of his shirt as you kept crying in his arms.
He gave you a glass of water, and the water kept spilling over the edge from the shakiness of your hands. Merry placed his hands gently over yours, steadying the glass. He helped you take a sip of it, looking at you, his eyes full of pity.
"Thank you," you said quietly, looking down at the glass and avoiding eye contact.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked in a tender, calming manner. 
"No."
"That's alright," he said, his thumbs softly caressing the backs of your hands. 
You sat there on the edge of his bed in silence, and Merry said nothing either. He comforted you for a long time, caressing your hands until you stopped shaking.
"Merry," you said, voice cracking again, the tears trying to resurface. You looked at him, swallowing and holding back tears. He was kneeling in front of you, still softly petting your hands. You had to tell him. It was killing you. You had to gather yourself.
"Yes?" Merry responded, still visibly worried.
"Can I stay here for the night?" you said, disappointed with yourself for not being able to tell him just how deeply you felt for him. 
Merry gave you a soft nod, and got up. He walked to a large closet in his room, and took a moment to find the most comfortable blanket he had. He pulled the duvet cover off the left side of the bed, and placed the blanket he had dug out for you on that side. 
You got up, and with unsteady steps you made your way to your resting place for the night. Merry put his palm softly on your back and helped you lay down. He pulled the blanket over your shaking body, and went to blow out the candles. He crawled under his blanket, and slightly to your side of the bed. You were laying on your side, your back facing him, when he wrapped his arm around you tightly, and gave a soft peck on the top of your hair. You trembled, and pressed your back tightly against his chest, squeezing his hand.
"It's going to be alright," he whispered, and held to your hand tightly. 
In no time you had calmed down, and drifted off to the most peaceful sleep you had had in a week. Merry did not sleep, but he held you through the whole night, hoping he could stay there forever. 
September 12th
You were sitting across Frodo, enjoying some freshly baked bread. The butter melted on your tongue, and you moaned your mouth full of bread from the taste.
"This is delicious!" you mumbled, taking another large bite. Frodo was looking at you, faintly smiling. 
You were eating there, blabbering about your new job, and thanking your brother endlessly for helping you get back to work. 
Some of the stuff in Bag End had already been sold or given to family members and friends, and the feeling of home was slightly being drained away. You were lucky enough to have Merry so close to you, so the feeling of being home was not going to disappear completely once Frodo moved out.
"Have you enjoyed helping Saradoc with his work?" Frodo asked, sipping his freshly squeezed orange juice. 
"Yes, but it's very draining from time to time," you responded. You took a moment to enjoy some full red wine Frodo had offered you, before you continued explaining the complexity of assignments working for the Master of Buckland brought.
Frodo was listening to you intensely, enjoying your company more than ever, as he knew he had to leave soon. Gandalf had warned him about the dangers of carrying the Ring, even to just Rivendell; and he was fearing he might never see you again. 
You were so enthusiastically telling the story of Merry and Pippin helping you go deeper in the Brandywine again, that you did not notice how much sorrow there was in your brother's eyes, or how guilty he was feeling.
When you finished telling the story of conquering yet another step of coming over your fears, Frodo fixed his composure and smiled at you, hiding his concerned heart.
"You seem happy," he said warmly.
You responded with a faint smile. Desperately you wanted to ask for his advice. You were itching to tell him about everything that had been going on with you and Merry, but the thought of opening up your heart to anyone was making you feel uneasy. But you decided to try it regardless.
"Can I ask you something?" you asked him, not noticing how forcefully your hands were fidgeting with the cutlery in your hands. Frodo took note of it, but decided to pretend he had noticed nothing.
"Of course," he said. "What's on your mind?"
You struggled to find the right words. There was an overwhelming need to tell him everything; how good it felt when Merry held you, and how deep your feelings for him were.
"Would you tell someone if you had realized you felt more for them? More than a friendship?" you asked, deciding to go through a different but direct route when it came to getting advice from your brother. He smiled knowingly.
"Do they feel the same way?" Frodo asked, trying to keep you as comfortable as he could. 
"I am not sure," you responded honestly, and dropped the fork you were fiddling with. It hit the floor with a loud cling, but you were too focused on asking for help to pick it up and clean it. You were trying to avoid giving away who you were talking about; even though Frodo knew.
"I think communicating about these things are important," he said. "If you feel like they feel the same way about you, you should talk to them about it. And even if they didn't; I believe it would be wise to tell."
"But what if I'm afraid?" 
"Fear is a part of life," Frodo said, shifting in his seat. "You just have to accept that there are many ways the conversation could go. It could end in happiness or heartbreak. You just have to take the leap, and accept the result; even if it feels unbearable as a thought right now."
You gave him a half-smile, and kept drinking your wine in silence. Deep in your thoughts, you finished your glass of red, and Frodo filled it to the top. 
His words were wise, and you knew it was the right decision to go to your brother for advice.
"Thank you," you said quietly.
"Can I ask you something in return?" Frodo asked. 
"Yes," you nodded. 
"Are you talking about Pervinca Took?" he said, smirking as he knew you used to have a crush on Pippin's sister. He was trying to make you laugh a little, as he was of course not oblivious to the fact that you were talking about Merry.
You looked down at your glass, swirling around the red wine. A faint, amused smile was on your face.
"You know I'm not talking about her," you said quietly.
"Indeed, I do."
You nodded, and took another rather large sip of the full bodied wine. 
----
@chatteringfox @shiinata-library @ahobbitsjourney23 @mayo-advance @datglutengoblin @mournthewicked
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shiinata-library · 2 days
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So cute! 😍
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The children of Thráin II; Thorin, Frerin and Dís.
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shiinata-library · 2 days
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Liam Riley, Paso Doble Photo credit: Rory Murphy
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shiinata-library · 2 days
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“John, are you even listening?” you asked, looking at him with confusion.
“Of course, I hear your every word” he smiled. “I just can’t believe you actually agreed to go on this date with me…”
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shiinata-library · 2 days
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Incorrect Quotes #66
Y/n : I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning.
Bilbo : This is a lie.
Bilbo : I'm literally dating them. This is a lie.
Bilbo : THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.
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shiinata-library · 2 days
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Quick botfa scene :)
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shiinata-library · 3 days
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😍😍😍😍😍
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I have been listening to the Hobbit audiobook while working. Bad idea. I didn't work, I drew Bilbo and his fancy home ♥
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shiinata-library · 3 days
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NEW VERSION. :)
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shiinata-library · 3 days
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Cute! 💖
A Kiss Hello - Fíli x Reader
Hey guys, look who keeps overcommitting :D
Anyway how about instead of any of the requests I have in my inbox you read a short piece I wrote in November 2022?
Word Count: 0.7k
Warnings: none
Fíli had always thought it was a bit of a strange greeting and goodbye. One kiss to each cheek, your hands easily resting on his shoulders to pull him in. You told him it was normal where you came from, and he supposed he wasn't one to tell you you weren't allowed to practice your culture near him.
It helped that he didn't exactly mind. You had lived with them under the mountain for years, and he was still the only one left with a burning face and butterflies in his stomach once you were out of sight.
"Fíli, this is getting ridiculous," Kíli sighed goofily as they traversed the halls of the mountain, trying to find the longest and most time-consuming route to their meetings. "I can see hearts in your eyes whenever she's around, why don't you just... confess?"
"Because I'm not you, Kíli," Fíli said, a bit agitated. "It's expected of me to find a nice dwarrowdam and settle down, keep our people happy. I can't just... just..."
"Just be happy with the woman you so obviously love?" Kíli interrupted, seemingly unfazed by his brother's sharp words. "You're free to make your own decisions, but I can promise you will live with regret forever if you don't do something. And soon."
Fíli looked slightly up at his younger brother. "What is that supposed to mean? What do you know?"
Kíli shrugged, eyes trained on the path ahead of them. He wasn't smiling anymore.
"Kíli!" Fíli felt his frustration rising, and with it, panic. What was happening? What were you going to do? "What, is she going to leave?"
Kíli only looked at him.
The golden prince's heart sank.
Was it his fault?
Fíli paced, wringing his hands, in the marketplace you always seemed to find yourself in, sometimes to sell, sometimes just to shop—oh, how he loved how vibrant you were when you shopped with him.
At this point, his heart was no longer in his stomach, but his feet. He couldn't stand it if you left, all because he chased you away, all because he was stupid and didn't know when to admit it—
"Y/N!" He interrupted his own thoughts, seeing you draw near. You held the basket you always used when shopping, the one he bought you in one of the towns you stopped at, before Erebor had even been won. It was looking a little worse for the wear, but you refused to give it up.
"Fíli!" You called back with a smile, but your eyes looked strained.
He wrestled with his brain, trying to figure out what to say first. His words became an incomprehensible knot. "Are you leaving?" He blurted. He just... he just really needed to know.
"Yes, actually, I am," you admitted, gazing at the floor. "I figured... I don't know, I think it's just time," you nodded, mouth twisted in a sad smile. "I hope you won't miss me too badly."
Fíli's heart raced. "Actually, if I could—"
A voice called out to you, and from the looks of it, it belonged to the head of a caravan you were looking to travel with.
"I'm so sorry, it looks like I have to go," you apologized, moving forward to bid him goodbye.
First, it was the right cheek, and as you moved to kiss his left, he turned, catching your lips with his.
The contact was fleeting, you startling back, flustered. "Oh, goodness, I'm sorry—"
You were still only centimeters from him. "Don't go," he murmured, moving to kiss you again. He didn't want to leave any doubt in your mind—that was not an accident.
His heart fluttered as he felt you kiss back, tilting your head as his hand rose to cup your face.
"I won't," you said as you pulled away, hot breath fanning across his face.
He felt eyes on the two of you from all sides. There would be no hiding this, no killing rumors or trying to keep a secret. "Good," he said, his lips still almost touching yours.
He had always liked your goodbyes, but this new beginning was much better.
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shiinata-library · 6 days
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When someone tries to explain something while I'm still eating...
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shiinata-library · 6 days
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If someone remembers this story, my motivation is coming back and I should post a new chapter soon 😚
You're right [1/?]
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Relationships: Bilbo x fem!OC
Content: Angst, fluff
Summary: Even though the first meeting of Lilacia, a female hobbit working at the Mathom-house, and Mr Baggins didn’t go well, let’s hope they will meet again in better circumstances, or not… ?
On AO3
N/A: It has been months since I wrote something and I don’t know where I’m going with this story but I hope you’ll like it :)
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Chapter 1
Summer had arrived a few weeks ago, bringing with it the sun and the heat, but unlike most hobbits, Lilacia spent her days locked indoors. It wasn’t surprising since she worked at the Mathom-house with four other hobbits. She had started five winters ago and she absolutely loved it. She loved tidying and organising this museum. For a hobbit like her, it was a window on the outside world, a mountain of treasure, a way to escape to her normal, simple, hobbit life. 
As every week, Lilacia joined her friends in the Bird and Baby tavern at the end of the week. Summer nights were always pleasant, so they chose to stay outside at a table like a lot of other hobbits.
 ”Lilacia, what do you think? He's right, is he?” one of her friends asked as she noisily put down her beer on the table.
 ”Oh yes, totally right!” she agreed as she slowly put her glasses down on the table, not knowing what she was talking about since she wasn't listening to them.
Lilacia got lost in thought for a few minutes, but not wanting to offend her friends, she now tried to catch up with the discussion. However, it was more difficult than she thought.
 ”Who is she talking about?” Lilacia whispered to a friend next to her.
 ”You didn’t listen to the whole conversation, right?” she laughed, used to Lilacia’s bad habits. “She was talking about her brother, Hob. Mr Baggins wants to take back the paintings Hob bought at the auction and he doesn't agree.”
 ”What auction?” Lilacia asked as she sipped her fresh cider.
 ”Mr Baggins’ auction,” she explained, wincing at her. “Since he was gone, remember?”
 ”Was there an auction of his belongings while he was away?” she asked, surprised.
All her friends stopped talking and looked at her as if she was the strangest creature they had seen before remembering it was only Lilacia. While they all burst out laughing, one of them volunteered.
 ”It happened weeks ago, you know. As he had been missing for over a year, they put his belongings up for sale.”
 ”Oh, poor Mr Baggins. I hope he won't be too angry when he comes back. Well, if he comes back.”
When her friends burst out laughing again, she understood she again had said something wrong. She tried to hide herself behind her cider but it didn't work. 
 ”Oh Liliacia, we’re never bored with you!”
 ”Hm, thanks?”
 ”Mr Baggins came back the day of his auction!”
 ”No way!” she couldn’t help but shout. “Is he alright?”
 ”Alright, yes, but furious and running in the whole Shire to get his belongings back!”
Despite her friends still laughing, Lilacia didn’t find it so funny. Perhaps she will laugh about it one day, but for the moment the surprise surpassed it. 
 ”Oh my dear, Lilacia. How can you know so much about centuries-old objects and not know anything about what's going on in the Shire?”
 ”Well, if it can entertain you,” she grumbled as she finished her cider. “I hope he came back safe at least.”
 ”Don’t react like that Lilacia,” one of them said as she joined her for a hug. “As for Mr Baggins, he looked fine but he became weird, speaking of Trolls, Elves, Dwarves, even dragons! He was already special before, if you want my opinion, but now he is very weird. Anyway, do you want some cider to make up for it?”
 ”Maybe he learned a lot of things during his absence. He must be interesting,” Lilacia thought aloud. “But yes, I do want another cider please!”
..
One morning at the end of summer as Lilacia was studying a dagger with an elven inscription in the archives’ room, a young hobbit in muddy overalls came to the Mathom-House and asked for her.
 “Good afternoon, Milo,” she said as she joined him at the reception room. “What can I do for you?”
 “Good afternoon, Miss Bunce. It’s Mr. Whitfoot. He asks for you!” he exclaimed in enthusiasm, startling her. “He found something and wants you to look at it!”
 “When will he understand I’m working for the Mathom-house and not as a freelancer for him?” she sighed. “What is it again? A magic rock? A bottle with elven tears? What was the last time? The key to a secret cave entrance between the Shire and Bree?”
Lilicia looked at the young boy with her hands on her hips, tired of her useless return trips to M. Whitfoot’s place. He was a farmer who lived near Hobbiton. It always took two days to visit him, and every time the old hobbit thought he had found something rare he called for her. It was true he had already found a chest with very old maps buried in his field, but he never found something valuable again for years.
 “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me,” Milo says, shrugging and opening the exit door. “I just had to give the message. Bye!”
Milo escaped from Lilacia's upset behaviour as soon as he could. Then, when she talked about it to Mr Tunnelly, the owner of the Mathom-House, he asked her to check it anyway. Better to go for nothing than to miss out on a rare item apparently.
So, as she didn’t have the choice, she went to Mr Whitfoot’s farm on foot under a windy but warm sky. Walking for a long time wasn’t a problem for her since she used to go hiking when the weather was suitable. Yet, once she arrived at the farm, she was glad he offered some tea while she rested her feet for a short time.
Then, when she thought he would give her the object for which she had come, he asked her to follow her outside. Mr Whitfoot was a kind hobbit but he made her walk a lot.
 ”Alright Mr Whitfoot, where is your famous rare object?” she asked with a professional smile.
 ”Outside, Miss Bunce. Please follow me!” he smiled. “I preferred to leave it where I found it. It’s under my hedge on the north side.”
The north side’s hedge was further than she thought but it was worth it. Under the hedge was an object small enough to fit in one hand but much heavier than it looked. Despite Mr Whitfoot's warning that it could be dangerous, she dug with her hands into the earth to unearth the entire object. 
Lilacia had no idea what this little stone box decorated with several little gemstones might be, but it sure looked old and valuable; at least to the Mathom-House, because no hobbit would put so many gemstones on such a box. 
 ”I think you found something precious enough to go in the Mathom-House, Mr Whitfoot!” Lilacia said, beaming as she turned to him with the box. “Mr Tunnelly will send you the money you deserve as soon as he is notified!”
Lilacia couldn’t hide her joy to add a new object to the Mathom-House, and the fact she knew nothing about the object was very intriguing. So intriguing that she took it with her when she went to the tavern for dinner with the friend who was hosting her for the night. The Ivy Bush had the same atmosphere as her usual pub and they both found a nice corner to chat and drink.
 ”For once we're spending time together, can't you let go of your work?” her friend grumbled, finishing her third ale.
 ”Don’t you find it so interesting?” Lilacia said as she turned the box in her hand, drinking her cider at the same time.
At the moment she finished her drink, someone jostled her behind her, knocking the box to the floor. As she leaned on the floor, a hobbit with curly blond hair with a white shirt took the object before her. 
 ”Please excuse my friend, he drank too much,” he said, embarrassing. “Where did you find that? I never saw an elven box like this in the Shire!”
 ”Elven?” she laughed more than she wanted because of the cider in her blood. “It’s not Elvish, Mister. It’s a dwarves’ manufacture.”
 ”Dwarves? No, absolutely not,” he said surprised, still not giving back the object as he analysed it in his hands. “This is Elvish.”
 ”Don’t you see the box is made of stone with a lot of gemstones? It was obviously made by dwarves.”
Lilacia ended her sentence by crossing her arm on her chest with a frown look. If there was one thing that quickly upset her, it was being contradicted about her work!
Unfortunately, she couldn’t recognize Bilbo Baggins since she never saw him, so she couldn’t know he was right. He already saw this kind of box in Rivendell, so he was sure of him and didn’t want to leave it like that, but when he wanted to speak again, Lilacia’s friends stepped in between them and took the box from his hands. Unlike Lilacia, she had a gift for talking easily with people and managed to calm the hobbit who grumbled as he joined his friends back. 
Then, they spent their evening calmer, with no jostling, but Lilacia couldn’t help but glance at the hobbit who upset her earlier. It's a pity that he didn't agree with her work because she found him quite attractive with his fine, curly hair, his lovely, tired eyes, and his unusual coloured clothes for a hobbit. She tried to forget him but everytime she glanced at him, he looked at her back and she couldn’t help but frown. A childish behaviour she regretted at every glance, but fortunately, they didn’t talk together again for the night.
..
Once Lilacia came back to the Mathom-House, she spoke with her boss and he agreed to keep it his in collection but she will have to wait to analyse it. Mr Tunnelly asked her to finish her current works before, and promised not to give it to another coworker. So, the box was placed in the archive room while she had to study first a sword, a map, and then a book.
An early autumn afternoon, Lilacia was working alone at the Mathom-House, except for Mr Tunnelly in his study. The old hobbit was the most passionate hobbit of stranger objects from the whole Shire. He almost never took days off, and today after a week of inventory, he gave his workers the day off. Only Lilacia wanted to come anyway since she started analysing  a new dwarven book.
As she was reading the book, she was sitting at the desk in the reception area drinking a hot tea. Everything was perfect: calm, tea, book, a light rain outside creating a cosy atmosphere. Yet, her reading was interrupted by a knock on the front door. Who could disturb them at the end of a friday? 
Lilacia stood up and put her tea down with a sigh before going to open the door. She was very surprised when she saw in front of her under the rain the hobbit she had met in the Hobbiton’s tavern a few months ago. His blue jacket was wet on the shoulder and his hair was dripping a little.
 ”Can I enter?” Bilbo asked eventually, unable to hide his frustration at having to stay under the rain.
 ”Oh, hm, yes. Of course.”
She let him enter, her surprise calming down as he walked inside and ran a hand in his hair to dry them. Oh, he was still very attractive but that wasn't the point. Did he come to talk about their discussion that night in the tavern?
 ”Good afternoon, did you come for the Mathom-house or to shelter you from the rain?” Lilacia asked as she closed the door.
Being on the defensive, she still showed him the fireplace in the reception area to warm up. He quickly walked before it, rubbing his hands together. 
 ”For both, I think. Well, I came to see Mr Tunnelly but I didn’t expect it would rain today,” Bilbo said, looking at his coat.
 ”Alright, can you wait here while I look for him?” she asked in a professional tone.
Bilbo nodded at her before turning to the fireplace. After a quick trip to Mr Tunnely’s study, Lilacia came back to the reception area and surprised Bilbo looking at her book, even turning some pages. 
 ”Mr Tunnelly will come in a minute,” she said, startling Bilbo. “You can wait for him in the armchair next to the fireplace. Do you want some tea?”
Even when Lilacia was upset with someone, she couldn’t help but be polite with them, especially when they were an acquaintance of Mr Tunnelly.
 ”No, thank you,” he said without raising his eyes from the book. “Where did you find that book?”
 ”Why? Will you tell me it's also an eleven book?” she asked, frowning as she joined him.
He looked at her, surprised by her cold, upset reaction, then turned to the book again. Did he ignore her? She started to believe he truly ignored her until she realised he was just very curious about the book. He was looking at the book as if he could read it, but Lilacia found it stupidly impossible. 
 ”I worked on it for a whole week and I still didn’t understand a word of it. We don’t have any resources about Khuzdul here. Elven languages are less of a problem, but Dwarven languages are more difficult than they seem,” she sighed. “And languages are not my speciality…”
 ”It's a recipe book,” he said, still focused on the book.
 ”What?” she laughed. “It’s impossible. A dwarven recipe book? Don’t be ridiculous. How could you know this only by reading some pages?”
Bilbo didn’t answer her and stopped to read a page. As she wanted to read it too, Lilacia leaned her head and hit Bilbo’s as he raised his suddenly. Surprised as much by his head as by the pain, she stepped back so quickly that she lost her balance. Bilbo tried to catch her but he only managed to spill her tea on the counter and her dress. She just had the time to save the book on the counter. 
 ”Can't you pay attention?” she exclaimed, the panic making her voice angry. “This book is a precious piece of the Mathom-House! Even if you think it's just a cookbook! If you just came for–”
 ”Lilacia?” Mr Tunnelly called in a severe tone, stopping her voice and her moves. “Once you clean the counter, you can go home.”
 ”But Mr–”
She tried to talk but the old hobbit ignored her and turned to Bilbo who was still embarrassed by what he did.
 ”Mr Baggins! I’m glad you made it all the way here! Come with me.”
 ”A-alright but–” he said, looking at the counter and Lilacia with apologetic eyes before following Mr Tunnelly. 
 ”Do not worry. It’s Valar’s punishment for how she talked to you,” the Mathom-House sighed as they walked toward his study.
Lilacia sighed when she didn’t hear them anymore. Her skirt was full of tea, the book was almost damaged, but the worst part was that the hobbit with whom she quarrelled was no one else but Bilbo Baggins. The famous Mr Baggins she wanted to meet since she heard he returned from his incredible journey. Well, she did meet him, but no in the way she wanted…
She sighed once again as she looked at the book.
 ”Oh no. He was right!” she shouted. “It’s truly a receipt book! Oh no, I’m so stupid! I thought of everything except that. Am I really a hobbit? How could I not recognise a list of ingredients even in another language? This is the worst…”
This whole situation almost made Lilacia cry. She felt so stupid and realised how impolite she had been with Mr Baggins. After she put the book away on a shelf, she cleared the counter, and then went home without seeing Mr Baggins again.
..
The analysis of the Dwarves’ book was easier thanks to Bilbo’s help. Once Lilacia finished her analysis, she started working on Mr Whitfoot’s box. The stone box with several gemstones was stored in the archives for too long, and she was so glad to get it out of there. 
Once the box was cleaned, the design seemed thinner and more delicate than she thought. Under the light of the candles, the gemstones were reflecting small rainbow-coloured lights in the whole room. Lilacia was totally fascinated. She spent days on it, taking some notes, searching in books, comparing it with other boxes in the collection.
Her analysis didn’t have to be complete to understand it wasn’t of Dwarves manufacture. Absolutely not. It was Elvish. The elven inscription inside was undeniable.
If Lilacia had already felt stupid at her last meeting with Bilbo, it was worse now. She felt so bad that she decided to go to apologise to Bilbo. He deserved her apology for all she said or did to him. So, she left for Hobbiton’s region some days later.
..
Lilacia was quite different from other hobbits. She loved the rain. Well, she said she loved it, but surely because she wasn’t working under it. In the Mathom-House, she was always dry and warm.
So, when she was walking under the rain to Bag End, she didn’t love the rain anymore. Her hair was sticking to her face, her soaked clothes were heavy under her cloak, her basket was dripping and the tea towel covering it was weighing her down with its contents, a totally ruined apple pie and two bottles of her family's cider. During her walk, she fell on the mud several times, so the end of her dress was dirty up to her knees.
She was hating the rain now, but no matter what, she will apologise to Bilbo. When she arrived in front of Bag End’s front door, it was the end of afternoon. She knocked on the door, and it took a lot of time before opening with the voice of Bilbo grumbling. 
 ”Who is it? I don’t have time for–”
His voice quieted when he saw Lilacia. He closed his multicolour robe on him and then his face froze until she talked.
 ”I’m sorry to bother you, Mr Baggins, but I wanted to apologise for all I said and did to you. You were right for the book. It’s a recipes’ book. And you were right for the elven box. I’m so sorry–”
 ”Wait, wait, wait–” he cut her off, trying to stop her.
 ”Oh yes! You’re right! I’m Lilacia Bunce from the Mathom-House and–”
 ”I know who you are,” he frowned as he raised a hand before him. “But what are you doing here? Under the rain, at this time?” 
 ”Oh, well, it’s quite dark because of the clouds so I got lost and I fell in the way several times, but–”
Bilbo’s sigh cut her off. She was clearly disturbing him and she only wanted to disappear.
 ”Come inside, you can’t stay under the rain,” he said, shifting to let her enter.
 ”No, I’ll ruin your entrance. I just came to apologise and give you this,” she explained, holding him the basket. “But I’m afraid the apple pie is no longer good to eat, and–”
 ”How can you be so stubborn?”
 ”I beg your pardon?” she asked, truly shocked.
 ”Just, come inside. Please.”
Bilbo grew tired of waiting so he grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, quickly closing the door before the rain further wet his entrance. Even though she was remaining motionless, water was running from her clothes and mud was dripping from her big hairy feet. 
Bilbo took her basket and put it on the small entrance cabinet, then he walked to her and looked at her from head to toe. His eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” and Lilacia was still wondering if she shouldn’t leave immediately. 
 ”Stay here, I will prepare a bath for you,” he sighed. “Meanwhile, remove your coat and go and warm yourself in front of the fireplace.”
Bilbo didn’t give her time to contradict him and left her alone. Lilacia looked around her while her cloak was still dripping. Bilbo’s house was like any other hobbit's house, portraits on the walls, old wooden furniture overloaded with useless knick-knacks and candlesticks everywhere. In fact, there was a bit of everything everywhere. We must admit that it was clearly a mess.
Lilacia eventually removed her cloak and found a place to hang it without dirtying everything. In her heavy, soaked dress, she stayed in the entrance until Bilbo joined her.
 ”Why are you staying here? The fireplace is there,” he said, showing her a room. “Follow me.”
 ”I can’t. Look at my dress and my feet. I’m full of mud…”
Bilbo sighed as he walked to her. “Why am I always surrounded by stubborn people,” he grumbled, pressing his lips together as he took her basket and disappeared into another room. When he came back, it was with a cup of tea. After giving it to her, she sipped it and her body started to warm up a little.
 ”Thank you, Mr Baggins. I’m truly sorry for what I said to you the night in the tavern. You were right about the box, and you were right about the book as well. I'm sorry I didn't believe you…”
 ”You already say it and you didn’t have to come here today with the pouring rain,” he said with a light smile, as if he was thinking of something fun. “If you don’t want to go to the fireplace, then follow me to the bathroom.”
 ”But, are you sure I am not disturbing you? Didn't you have something else to do?” she said as she quickly finished her tea.
 ”I already told you it’s fine,” he said as he took her empty cup and started to walk.
Even though she hesitated, she eventually followed him, observing every detail of Bilbo’s smial, stopping every time she saw something intriguing. This place looked like a cave of wonders for Lilacia. There were so many objects she never saw! 
Bilbo was waiting for her at the end of the corridor, holding the door while a warm steam was escaping. When he saw her reaction at each object, he couldn’t hide his smile. 
 ”Your home is amazing!” she said when she joined him. “There are so many amazing things! What is the small transparent round object there?”
 ”It's an elven object that predicts the weather forecast for the next day,” he explained looking at the object on a shelf.
 ”Oh, it’s amazing! Where does it come from?” she asked, her professional side taking over.
 ”It’s from Rivendell. But, Miss Bunce, you will catch a cold if you don’t decide to take a bath,” he said, showing her the bathroom with his head.
 ”Oh yes, you’re right. Again. It's becoming a habit.”
Lilacia eventually entered the bathroom and Bilbo closed it as she was still thinking aloud. He looked at the door, not believing himself that a female-hobbit was in his home, in his bathroom, soon naked in his bathtub. Hm, well, maybe a warm tea would be a good idea right now… But he could help but think of her looking so interested in his belongings. The good thing was she wasn't just interested in the price she would earn from selling them. Few people genuinely believed what he said while others thought he was imagining them or making them up. Who would believe that he helped turn trolls into stone anyway? That he met kings of Dwarves, Elves and Men? That he came back alive from a great battle that still gives him nightmares?
Contrary to everyone who was avoiding him or taking him for a fool since he came back, Lilacia seemed truly interested. He never saw her before his journey, but already noticed she was different from the other hobbits. 
But maybe it had nothing to do with him. Maybe she was just interested in the objects he had brought back from his adventure. Whatever it was, he was stupidly smiling while his tea was cooling.
.
After her warm bath, Lilacia got out of the bath and wiped with a large towel. While she waited for herself to dry, she quickly braided her hair to prevent it from dripping everywhere. She had already dirtied his place enough. 
Of course, before coming here, she had heard of Mr Baggins and his big smial by a lot of people, and they were right, his smial was amazing. Just his bathroom alone was big, warm, and bright. There were many vials and soaps of different fragrances stored on wooden furniture.
Once her fascination was calmed down, she saw that her dress and her jacket were still soaked. Only her thin under dress was almost dry. Could she go out like that? Did she have any other choice?
No. So, after she came out of the bathroom, she walked to the fireplace and put her clothes to dry. Luckily, she found a plaid on an armchair and wrapped herself in.
When Bilbo stepped in the room, he froze for some seconds. Lilacia was analysing an object in her hands, wearing only an under dress which stopped above her knees and his plaid on her shoulders. Then, he noticed how damaged her knees were by her falls during the trip.
After he took a step, he froze once again when he saw her hair dripping from her braid and her serious face with her cheeks blushing from the bath earlier and the fireplace. As for Bilbo, if his cheeks were pink, it wasn't the fireplace’s fault. He eventually pulled himself together and joined her.
 ”What do you think it is?” he asked once he was next to her.
 ”I don’t know yet,” she said, still focused on the dark, pointed object in the shape of a rounded cone. “It’s quite big and heavy. I need my two hands to hold it. I was thinking it was a horn but the texture is rough. It looks very solid though…”
Lilacia was analysing it seriously in her head, trying to surprise Bilbo with her capacities for once, but as she never had left the Shire, there were many things she didn’t know.
Seeing her so serious and focused, Bilbo let her observe without saying anything. He also took the opportunity to look at her and saw again the state of her knees. 
 ”Sit on the armchair. I'll get something for your knees,” he said and left without leaving her time to reply.
She did what he asked, sighing at the same time. Many people talked about Bilbo Baggins, but no one told her he was so bossy, and so considerate…
When he came back, he let her do her analysis while he kneeled before her and put balm on her knees. 
 ”I give up!” she groaned, dropping the object on her lap, lowering her eyes to Bilbo. “Oh, what are you doing? I mean, I couldn’t have done it myself! You don’t have to do that!”
Hiding her embarrassment was impossible at this stage. She quickly closed her kneels at the same time that her cheeks burned. Bilbo stood up immediately, blushing as well, shaking his hands before him. 
 ”No, no, no. I don’t... Hm, I saw nothing. I promise you. I just quickly put some balm. But now, you’re right. It seems totally improper. I-I’m sorry.”
 ”No! I mean, it’s fine. Thank you…”
It was impossible to know who was the most embarrassed. How to continue after that?
 ”I-I can lend you one of my mother robes or a dress if you prefer while your clothes are drying,” he said, looking at her clothes.
 ”A robe would be perfect,” Lilacia smiled as she stood up and grabbed his hand before he left. “Wait! First, tell me what it is. Please.”
Bilbo turned to her with a chuckle. Even with the situation, she was still on it.
 ”It’s a claw,” he said, looking seriously at it.
 ”No way. It’s impossible. Did you see the size and the weight? It would be a huge creature! Huge like a– Oh.”
She raised her eyes to Bilbo, his smile no longer on his lips. He even frowned. Oh, after all she said to him, he never looked so upset than now.
 ”I’m sorry! It’s not I don't believe you! I just always stupidly react this way… Is that really a dragon’s claw? Oh sorry. Well, it’s just unthinkable for me to have it in my hands. Oh, it’s unimaginable! Is that Smaug’s claw like I heard of from your stories? Oh, well, you didn’t meet another dragon anyway,” she rambled before squeezing his hand that she was still holding. “Do you have other amazing things? Oh, hm, well, if you want to show me, of course.”
It was like she had forgotten the reason for what she went to. Fascinated by Bilbo and his belongings, she had also forgotten her manners until she saw him blushing and moving his nose by embarrassment. He was so close that he could feel the warmth of her body and smelled his soap perfume on her. 
 ”Maybe I-I should get a robe first,” he stammered, slowly taking back his hand, surprised by the softness of her skin.
 ”Oh, you’re right!” she said as she stepped away from him, avoiding his eyes.
Then, Bilbo left her next to the fireplace. Now she was warm enough, even a little too much in truth, she sat on his armchair again. A comfortable hobbit armchair like her grandfather’s never wanted to lend her. 
Bilbo walked fast to his parents’ chamber and then, he took his time to find a robe. Firstly because he didn’t know which would be the best for Lilacia’s height, but also because he needed to calm down. He couldn’t go back to her with his cheeks as red as a tomato at the end of the summer, right?
When he eventually found a good robe, not smelling old and not too thin, he joined her.
 ”Miss Bunce, I found a–”
His words stopped as he walked in and saw Lilacia sleeping on his armchair. She was wrapped in his plaid, breathing slowly. Her trip to Bag End exhausted her more than she thought, and she fell asleep without noticing it.
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shiinata-library · 6 days
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😍😍😍😍😍
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Whimsical hobbit house built by Stuart Grant. Located near Tomich, Scotland, he constructed his own real-life Hobbit house with a magical-looking outside and impressive interior. Built in the 1980s, the exterior of the home is completely covered in moss and has a large rounded door. Low ceilings and cozy furnishings make you feel like you’re living among the underground. Outside you can enjoy a cheery pond and greenhouse.
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shiinata-library · 6 days
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I love it! 😍
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A/N - Okay so whoever wrote this must fucking hate me right now for sure. This has been in my goddam inbox for months. I honestly didn’t put it off. Exams happened and University kicked my butt so much (Honestly I’m never ever opening my fic requests during university time again) and I’d never seen Poldark. So this week, I watched all of Poldark (which was amazing so thank you anon for introducing me to this beautiful tv series). And wrote a monster ass one-shot based on your request. I mean its over 5k! I just kept writing and couldn’t stop. This took me three days to write and nobody has read it but me because my usual beta readers are busy. Anyway enough of my rambling. I hope you enjoy it anon and anyone else who reads it!
Words: Too goddam many (5889 words) Paring: Reader x Prince Kili
This fic is set in an AU world. Where Thorin died but Kili and Fili survived. (GIF is not mine)
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Prince Kili was loved by many, many people throughout Middle-earth. Of course he was. He was the brave, funny and handsome dwarf, who helped his uncle take back Erebor from the horrific dragon, Smaug. Smaug caused untold damage to Lake-town, scorching the fields of Erebor and Dale for years and causing millions of problems. But eventually, even the Kingdom of Dale grew to love the Prince of Erebor. Prince Kili was amazing, handsome and was one of the most sought after bachelors in middle-earth. So why did he marry you?
You were just a girl - a human girl - from Dale. And it wasn’t even like you were human royalty. Nope. You were just a regular old maid who’d become Prince Kili’s servant once he’d come back from war. For three years you worked for the prince before, and for some odd reason he proposed. You were just as surprised as anyone else. Sure, you were close. Sure, you adored the prince and he was everything you ever wanted in a man. And course you said yes. Even though you knew his heart belonged to another.
Afficher davantage
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shiinata-library · 6 days
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John Mitchell
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shiinata-library · 7 days
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That snippet 😏👌
Oh those keywords sound perfect! I could read "we shouldn't do this" 1 million times and never get tired of it 😈
Thanks for you answer! 🥰
Hello~~
Do you still have your WIP of our hot Dr. Alan McMichael?
If you need inspiration 👇
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😘
Hiya!!! It's so nice to see your name in my notifications!! How are you??
Oh of course I still have the WIP for Alan "The Hot Doctor" McMichael. It's impossible to forget about him and I intend to get back to this story (hopefully!) soon!
Here's a snippet I had shared a while ago incase anyone would like a little refresher of it (I don't have anything new to share from it 🥴)
In the meantime, here are some key points that stuck out to me when I reopened this doc to check it out that'll show you just where this story is headed.
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Why am I like this?
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Thank you for asking and appreciating this very underrated character 😘💗
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