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bookworm-with-coffee · 11 months

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Legends . . .

(Thorin Oakenshield x Reader)

(A/N); Hello and here we go, readers!! Part Three of this tale, "Excuses" , has finally come to fruition!! Please note, that in this chapter, the POV changes. As always, I hope you enjoy!! ❤

Pairings; Thorin x Reader (Platonic), Fili x Reader (Romantic), Kili x Tauriel (Romantic)

Plot; In the conclusion to this tale, the reader finally finds where she belongs in the world...

Warnings; none, fluff, romance, emotions

Part One & Part Two

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"I'm here, Mr Thorin. I kept my promise".

Within moments of hearing those words, Thorin crossed the room from his throne, seemingly breathless from his shock and happiness. "My friends". And without any hesitation, he brought both you and Bilbo into a grouped embrace. "Long have I awaited this day", he sighed as if it were in relief.

"It's so good to see you, Thorin", Bilbo heaved a laugh in the tight embrace, affectionately patting the back of the Mountain King.

"We missed you", you added, resting your head in the crook of his neck. Pulling apart from the embrace gently, Thorin placed his larger hands upon your heads, weaving his fingers gently into the curled locks upon them. His forehead met Bilbo's in an affectionate familial embrace, before he at last rested his head upon yours.

For the King, it was an effort to fight tears; seeing you again. When he last saw you, you were an adolescent; no older than thirteen. And before that, it was when you was eight and made your promise to him. Time had been cruel to Thorin. Unrest had started in the colonies when Moria was to be reclaimed. The Dwarven empire was growing and Thorin had but one chance to see you again in your teen years and took it without hesitation. Now, with you a decade older, it was hard for him not to weep.

"I am sorry, Dear One", he murmured, meeting your eyes with his own glassed ones. He ran his thumb over your cheek. "I should have visited you more before your adulthood, and I–".

"Don't you apologise", you chided, bringing his form against yours in a proper hug. He reciprocated immediately, allowing only a few tears to slip from his eyes whilst his head was buried in your shoulder. "You are a mighty King of Dwarves. Your responsibilities lie here. I knew that. Time was unkind to us both, Thorin". You broke the embrace, wiping the few stray tears from his face. "I would have grown up, either way. As every child does, eventually". He smiled then, looking proudly at the woman you had become. "However, they will always come back to their family". Thorin's mouth parted in some semblance of shock at your words, but it was he that remembered his own in that moment. He remembered a young Hobbit curled into his side.

"I will one day! I'll go to Erebor! I'll visit you, I promise!!". Thorin smiled fondly, softly rustling the (h/c) curls on the little Halfling's head. "And be welcomed as kin! Whatever that is".

"It means family, (Y/n). You, Master Baggins, my people. All of us are part of each other. You will come to understand it all one day. And I will be a proud Dwarf to see that day come".

"Indeed, they do", he agreed, a new sense of pride swelling within his chest. He knew that you deep down thought of him as the father you never got to have and vise-versa; you were like the daughter he could never have. Most of all, you and Mr Baggins were his friends. His best friends. And you both would fit in with his kin.

"Kili!", Bilbo had shouted, the two happily embracing.

"You have a beard now!", you exclaimed whilst the youngest Durin hugged your companion.

"I do!". His hands rubbed over the dark hair now thick on his face. You had met Kili when he accompanied Thorin on his last visit to the Shire. Although you hadn't had the time to get to know the younger Dwarf, you could see he was a light in a dark time in Thorin's life. You loved that about him. Grinning, his arms opened for you. "Come here you!". Laughing, you met him in a crushing embrace, relishing in the way he swung you like a sibling before settling into a softer hug. "Good to see you again", he commented, ruffling the top of your head.

"Likewise", you chuckled, playfully bumping his cheek with your knuckle to his amusement.

You again turned to Thorin, who now wished to address you and Bilbo about living quarters for your stay. However, before anything much could be said, there was a pull on your skirts. Looking down, you found yourself looking at a tiny young boy with crystal blue eyes, half-pointed ears and wavy auburn hair. "A Hobbit??", you questioned aloud, amid your confusion. Yet, this boy had uncharacteristically tiny feet and a lot of light hair upon his face for a Hobbit...

"I knew you'd end up taking a child from the Shire to raise for your own", Bilbo joked to Thorin's greater amusement. His eyes shone with familiarity at the young one's presence.

"Afraid not, Master Baggins", he chuckled. "For the child isn't mine". Thorin walked over, picking the young boy up with a laugh.

"Great Uncle Thorin!", the small boy cooed, pulling at the King's hair the way you once had.

"(Y/n), this is—".

"Frerin Durin!!", a shout into the throne room interrupted Thorin. "So that's where you disappeared off to!!". An exasperated Dwarf marched into the room with a tired grin. He had a mane of curly blonde hair and by far, the most impressive beard you'd ever seen on a Dwarf besides Thorin's. His crystal blue eyes travelled to Kili with a sympathetic undertone to them. "Sorry, Kee. Couldn't keep the rascal out of trouble! Reminds me of his father ". An incline of his head in Kili's direction showed, to your shock, that Frerin was his son!

"Don't know what you're talking about!", he played it off with a giggle. "Now, you". The youngest Durin walked to his Uncle, addressing his son. "Stop running away from your Uncle Fee. He works too hard to have mischievous little Pebbles like you—", a poke in the boy's chest, "—causing trouble for him". The little one giggled, having been no older than you when you first met Thorin. However, your mind lingered on the name 'Fee'. And then it snapped. This was the Prince— Thorin's first nephew. He was the next King Under the Mountain. Fili.

You saw it now. Despite his hair, which he undoubtedly got from his father's side, he had that nobility in his attitude and those gorgeous blue eyes from his mother's side. The same eyes little Frerin has. Thorin's eyes.

"You never told me you had a little boy!!", you fawned, Thorin allowing you to take the young Pebble. He pulled at your hair, holding the shoulder of your dress.

"Two, actually", Kili corrected, making your eyes widen.

"Two??", you echoed, your mouth falling open. He laughed at your expression. Nodding, he affirmed it for you,

"Yes. Frerin and Thrain".

"Where's Thrain??", you asked, swiveling to see if he was in the room.

"Safe, with his mother", Kee assured. "He's but a babe. Tauriel does a wonderful job mothering them. Sometimes she needs a break from the other one though. Mother and Fee offer to babysit all the time, so it's never a problem". The name 'Tauriel' was a dead giveaway. The ears were pointed because she was Elven!

"I'm so happy for you, Kili", Bilbo grinned, caressing the little boy's face before turning to shake hands with his father.

"Adad!", Frerin cried out. "Who is this lady and that man??".

"Bilbo", Kili gestured to your counterpart. "Is your Irak' Nadad; your Uncle from the Shire". He turned to you. "And (Y/n) is your Irak' Namad; your Aunt. She's from the Shire as well!". The boy reached for your ears, toying with them. Fili's brows, however, had risen when hearing your name. He didn't realise that you were his Uncle's friend. The one he and Kili and told him about many years ago and mentioned only on occasion. You had completely intrigued the firstborn Durin, his eyes dancing eagerly between you and his nephew. His glances towards you didn't go unnoticed by Kili...

"Is she a half-Elf?? Is she like me and Thrain?".

"No, son", Kee grinned, ruffling his boy's hair. "She's a Hobbit. A halfling. Big, strong feet that don't need boots. Ones that can sneak past a Dragon!". Frerin's jaw dropped.

"You snuck past a Dragon?!". Everyone burst into laughter.

"No, Lovely", you answered the boy softly. "But, your Uncle Bilbo did! He faced Smaug; the Dragon who sat on this mountain". Bilbo nervously waved the boy's ecstatic look off.

"It was nothing, really", he insisted with a chuckle. Frerin clawed his way from your arms to your counterpart's.

"Tell me about the Dragon!!", the boy grinned. He had his father's smile. It made your own bloom.

"Another time, Frerin", Kili told him, taking his son from an amused Bilbo. "Let's get you home to your Amad". The boy pouted, but agreed with great reluctance. Turning to his older brother, he murmured, "Thanks for looking after him, Fee".

"Always. I love my little Warrior-Nephew!", Fili smiled in response, pinching Frerin's cheeks. The little one giggled from his Uncle's playfulness before Kili started for the staircase to leave the throne room.

"Great seeing you all again!", he called to you and Bilbo. "Say 'bye', Frerin!". The boy waved and called to you all as his father disappeared with him.

"That boy is a handful", Fili sighed, turning to his Uncle.

"Like the two young Dwarves I used to look after", Thorin smirked in full amusement. You couldn't help the short laugh that slipped from your lips. Imagining Fili and Kili at a young age with Thorin as the exasperated babysitter. Fili's attention was caught by your laugh and he smiled with a warmth that nearly stopped your breath where it sat in your lungs.

"Pardon me, but you must be the (Y/n) I've heard so much about in these many years", the Princeling addressed you at last. You nodded, fighting your shock. Had Thorin and Kili really said so much??

Carefully, Fili took one of your hands into his own larger ones and lifted it up to softly lay a kiss upon your delicate fingers. It startled you, sending a shiver to your very core. "I'm Fili. At your service". To your shock, the Princeling, the Royal had not only failed to introduce himself as such, but was now bowing to you.

Bilbo's brows rose, his eyes darting in surprise between Thorin's jovial expression and Fili's interaction with you. Thorin was no fool to his nephew's charm and merely pursed his lips. Perhaps Fili himself didn't realise it, but there was interest shining in his eyes.

"Please, Prince Fili. You needn't bow to me", you begged with some humility. "If anything, I should bow to you ".

"Don't", he chuckled, giving your hand a subconscious squeeze. "You're our honoured guest. Which reminds me–". He turned to his Uncle like a deer caught in headlights. "I should help Amad with dinner preparations for the banquet tonight!". Thorin almost laughed at his nephew's quick excuse, merely dismissing him with a smile,

"Good lad. We'll see you tonight". Fili nodded, only now releasing the gentle and seemingly subcinscious hold he had on your hand to depart. He offered a quick smile to both you and Bilbo before his steps lead him away. The Prince's touch was like fire in your skin and you could still feel the roughness of his calloused hands upon your own. It was then that Thorin took to your living arrangements. He felt it was only right, being that he had a duty to you both as the King and your closest friend.

After leaving Bilbo to his living arrangements, Thorin began to lead you to your own.

"Is it how you imagined??", the King questioned hopefully, seeing you taken by the views both within and on the outside of the great city.

"No", you playfully answered with a shake of your head. Thorin, thinking you to be serious, was taken aback with disappointment. Knowing this, you finally answered after a few moments, "It's far more beautiful". A delighted smile crossed his face to match the one you then offered to him. You both fell into some semblance of a peaceful silence before the King asked,

"How is your mother? I often wondered about her as well in this past decade". Your eyes seemed to have their usual shine dimmed. His brows knitted together in some form of concern, awaiting your response.

"She passed away some time ago. Naught but a year now". It felt like an arrow had pierced the Mountain King's heart at your words. Had you suffered through this loss alone?? What had become of the home in which you lived??

"(Y/n)", he grasped your shoulder. "I am truly sorry". You shook your head, not letting your tears spill.

"She lived a good life", you insisted with a sad smile. "She made our house a home. It was taken from her by the estate. Her death was unexpected. She hadn't written a will yet, so I could not inherit the property. Bilbo, upon hearing of it, offered me refuge. I have been living in Bag End with him". Relief passed over Thorin, grateful to the Hobbit that had accompanied you. He had not let you suffer your grievances alone. "Bilbo is lonely, although he's never admitted to it. He loves the company of another. The year past has been a good one, thanks to him".

"And for that, I am glad", Thorin assured.

"Thorin!", a Dwarf hollered, making his way up the stairs. He was seemingly old, white haired with a long beard. His smile met his eyes completely, offering a merriful radiance.

"Balin", Thorin inclined his head to this seemingly familiar individual, but it was not Thorin he spoke to next.

"Bless my beard", Balin breathed, tracing your face with his mirthful eyes. "You must be (Y/n)". Without hesitation, he reached over grasping your hand firmly in his own for a shake. "Long have we been expecting your company. Welcome to the House of Durin!". Like Fili had, Balin also bowed to you. "Balin, son of Fundin. At your service, my Dear".

"(Y/n), at yours, Master Dwarf", you smiled warmly with a curtsy to the polite Dwarf.

"Balin is my advisor and distant cousin", Thorin informed you, delighted to see his companion. Balin released your hand with a chuckle,

"Stop with the formalities. I've just come to inform you that the banquet will be ready within the hour". You blanched in worry.

"I'm hardly prepared for such an occasion", you spoke aloud. This did not phase the two Dwarves.

"Do not worry", Thorin laid his hand comfortingly upon your back. "My sister is a seamstress. I will send you to her once you have settled in your quarters".

"Ah, Lady Dis", Balin sighed. "One of the best of her craft. Certainly one you can place your trust in, Dear". His assurance was all you needed. He struck you as beyond wise and compassionate. Definitely one of his house. "I'll take my leave. See you both at dinner". With a friendly wink directed to yourself, he nodded to Thorin before rushing off with other royal duties to attend to.

"Your kin are certainly diverse. But, kind all the same".

"Indeed", Thorin agreed. "For you are also one of them".

___________________________

Dis was a true woman of her craft. That much was evident in the careful ways she layered the fabrics of the dress she was making. She had projects all around the room in which she crafted. Each dress, complete or incomplete seemed like it had been crafted by the most elegant dressmakers of the Elves. The fabric she used had the lightness of a summer dress and the practicality of an all-seasons outfit. It was made to be worn in any setting, formal or no. "Amad", Kili breathed out in a state of wonder. "This is lovely". In return, her son recieved a warm gaze of gratitude.

"Thank you, Kili". Fili was present, attending to the decor with the maids of the house. The Autumn Equinox festivities were heavily revered in Dwarven culture with Durin's day on approach. Dis grew excited every year, yet now, she was excited for more than one reason. "(Y/n) is finally here with us", she grinned, her smile resembling Kili's in every way. "I've wanted to complete this project ever since Thorin mentioned that she may be staying with us in adulthood. So, a few years ago, I felt inspired to craft a dress of my own make; worthy of any hall or occasion".

Her sons onlooked her excitement with mirth. It was rare that their mother had time outside of her royal duties for such things. "It is worthy of all the praise in this world", Fili assured, earning a short caress of comfort on his arm from Dis.

"It's not done yet, my son", she sighed, her smile content and motherly. Her head dipped to her lap, her raven locks falling upon her shoulders in an elegant half-up bound by many beads. One in particular, belonging to her late husband; Vili. She kept it close, attached to the braid she kept behind her right ear. It was the bead he'd fashioned for his proposal to her. Fili still admired its craftmanship. It was everything to Dis. "I am so excited to meet (Y/n)! You boys have. What is she like??".

"Fee couldn't keep his eyes to himself", Kili replied, earning himself a quirked brow from his brother. "I've never seen him so taken by a woman".

"Hang on a second, Kili! I was only curious. I've never met her before today", his brother argued, fighting his embarrassment. "All credit to her, she is beautiful. But, that's all there is to my thoughts". Dis supressed her smile for the sake of her eldest boy. There was no fooling her, however. No amount of downplaying could do that. She knew that Fili, at the very least, was enamoured by your presence. That was enough to catch her own attention enough that her eagerness to meet you was increased tenfold.

"You sure it wasn't her smile? Her eyes??", Kee teased, pouting his lips to his brother's annoyance.

"Shut up, men gorach—".

"No foul language in this house", Dis cut in like a cold blade. "Kili, enough".

"Sorry", her youngest cleared his throat, fighting his shit-eating grin with great difficulty.

"Wipe that look from your face and help Bombur in the kitchens". Despite his urge to laugh, Kili straightened when his mother addressed him again. In his deep respect for her, he wouldn't dare disobey anything she would ask and left without another word. Instead, he was quickly replaced by another dark-haired Dwarf. He bore a hat, which he removed from his head with a bow. "Pardon my interruption, Lady Dis. I need Fili's help, if y' don't mind it?".

"Not at all, Bofur", she smiled kindly, turning then to her eldest son. "It seems there is much left to do, Fili. When you leave, send Dralana to fetch (Y/n) for me, please". The blonde Dwarf nodded, offering his mother a warm and grateful smile for the way she'd handled his brother's antics.

"I take my leave, then. Dolzek menu, Amad".

"You're welcome, child", she chuckled, squeezing the hand he'd placed on her shoulder before returning to her work.

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It hadn't taken you long to settle into your spacious quarters. It was far larger than a cozy Hobbit hole, but it had all the comforts of home. A large, thick wooden bed with a fireplace on the opposing wall. A little alcove to read some books as well. There was also a window that brightened the room naturally, being that your room was on the front face of the mountain. The wardrobe they offered you was spacious with only a few old tunics that had a musty smell to them. The bedroom had been well kept with furs laid thick upon the bed and wild flowers in the few vases placed around the room.

However, despite these comforts, you could not fight the nervousness you felt; crossing through unfamiliar halls in your journey to meet the Lady Dis. Thorin's sister was an enigma to you. Clearly Kili and Fili's mother, yes. But, you pondered her resemblance to her brother; what she'd be like. More stern? Perhaps more intimidating?? You didn't know.

'Dralana', as this maid had called herself, accompanied you in good spirits. She was young, alike to yourself. Being a Dwarf, young could be anywhere from 30 to 130 years old. You didn't know. She didn't seem to fear her mistress, which gave you some form of comfort. You were even tempted to ask her thoughts on the Lady she served so kindly. "Don't look so nervous", she told you softly. "You look far too pale, Love".

"My apologies", came your almost shaky reply. "I've never met Lady Dis".

"She's a lovely sort". An amused smile dawned on Dralana's lightly bearded features. Her smile was so contagious, you couldn't help but match it. "Between you and me", her voice lowered to a whisper. "Our King Thorin is the more intimidating one of the two". You nodded, however, you understood why Thorin was so intimidating. He was incredibly private, but noble. He commanded respect with his gaze alone. Not many men could walk the world and do that, after all.

Dralana halted outside a large reinforced wooden door, knocking upon it gently, "Lady Dis! I've brought (Y/n), as requested!".

"Please, come in!", a voice like a calm sea came from the room. Dralana pushed the door open waving for you to walk through. And with great hesitation, you did. A comforting pat to your back from the young maid brought relief to your anxieties once you stepped into the musty room.

"I'll take my leave. Should you need anything, I am at your service, M'Lady!". Dralana bowed to the Dwarf that now stood up from what seemed like her work station. She was sat by a wooden stand that had a dress draped over it. Sewing materials were scattered upon the floors around her. You carefully walked closer, careful not to break anything as Dralana finally departed, closing the doors behind her.

The figure before you turned and instantly, a glittering pair of ocean orbs were upon you. Your mouth fell open slightly, the air leaving your lungs at how similar Dis' gaze was to her brother's, Fili's and Frerin's. Your head bowed to the dam before you, not wishing to be rude. "My Lady Dis", you greeted her.

"You must be (Y/n)!!", she exclaimed excitedly, taking you aback. You lifted your head, only to have her embrace you tightly. "Welcome to our home, child". All your anxiety melted at her affections. For the first time in a long time, you were being embraced by a mother. Warm hands came to cradle your face gently once you broke apart. "Fili mentioned you were beautiful! He certainly wasn't mistaken!". Your eyes had widened in some semblance of shock, despite how you tried to keep it under control. Fili had called you beautiful?? With your face growing hotter, you modestly replied with genuity,

"Thank you, M'Lady. You're far more beautiful in person than I'd imagined you to be". Dis grinned tracing your dimples with her thumbs gently before bringing her hands to your arms instead.

"You're too kind, Dear". Carefully, she lead you to her work station where a breathtaking dress was being made. It was a beige-brown, sleeveless for the moment and looked lighter than a feather. "This is one of my favourite projects". Her eyes darted to your face for approval, before continuing, "It is made for all seasons. Crafted with silken cottons and trims of mithrel on the edges. It will be a shoulderless dress, but I will be attaching these white arm sleeves, fashioned from Elven silk". It was hard not to marvel at her craftsmanship.

"Mithrel is a protective metal, is it not?", you asked, tracing the edges she'd stitched so carefully.

"It is!", she replied, all too happy with your knowledge. "I take it Thorin and Bilbo have told you about it?". You nodded.

"It's silver steel. Impenetrable by blades, but ever so beautiful. Thorin gave Bilbo a vest of Mithrel, I believe?".

"Yes. It is a noble gift to those that we regard as our kin", she murmured. "And despite how it may not offer you protection, I will give you this dress. I have been making it especially for you". At her words, your mouth fell open, causing her to laugh.

"Thank you!! But, this is too much. I can't take this!". Your modesty caused her smile to widen.

"Nonsense, child", Dis chided playfully. "It's yours". You bowed your head in thanks, yet found yourself mesmerised for the briefest moments when you looked up; for you saw Kili in her features. She noticed. "Are you alright, Love?".

"Yes", you snapped out of your gaze upon her. "You just remind me of Kili when you smile".

"I'm told that the resemblance is uncanny", Dis giggled with an amused shake to her head.

"I think Fili takes after you too. He has your eyes".

"He has the Durin eyes", she conceded. "But, I'm so grateful that he resembles his late father". You felt your heart sink at her words.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, M'Lady".

"Don't apologise", she insisted with a kind gaze. "Vili was an honourable man. He died in the most courageous way possible, defending those he loved. I look at Fili and I see that same ferocity in his heart. A quiet, brave fire".

"But, he takes after you and Thorin as well", you added. "Both him and Kili do. You both are wise, mature, but compassionate. Fili may be more wise and mature than Kili,—". Dis giggled at your observation. "—But no less compassionate than those of his house".

"Thank you". The dam brought her arm around your shoulder, caressing it in such a way that it reminded you of your own mother's kind embrace. "Thorin was right about you". Your brows knitted in confusion for only a moment, before she added, "You really are one of us; one of our kin".

Feeling warmth within your very soul, Dis insisted that you wear the dress so that she may be able to complete the final alterations. You stood in the stunning dress upon a small stool whilst she stitched and worked almost effortlessly. She made regular offers for you to sit if you were tired or drinks of water if you were thirsty. The sleeves she stitched hung comfortably loose from your arm and she altered them so that the sleeve would end at your wrist as to not bother you. She placed mithrel on the white sleeve ends, ensuring a stylish gap on each shoulder was left, exposing a small amount of skin to breathe. The care and love Dis had for her work was immeasurable. The delight in her eyes reminded you of the way your mother tended to the gardens of your old home.

She had quickly noticed your quiet, her blue eyes traveling up to meet your glassed ones. "Are you alright, Dear?", her question broke your thoughts. You nodded, chewing the inside of your lip to keep any tears at bay. Her warm hands grasped one of your own, rubbing them softly to console you.

"I lost my mother", you finally breathed out, feeling like a hot iron had been plunged through you. "You remind me of her as well. I'm sorry". Desperately, you wiped at your eyes with your spare hand.

"Don't you say sorry, Darling", Dis hushed you with a shake of her head. "It's alright for others to remind you of those of whom you have lost". She smiled with a gentle sadness, helping you wipe your tears. "It is sometimes our only reminder that they are still here, in our hearts and minds". You managed to fight the tightness in your chest, relaxing at her touches of comfort. She was right. It's how she knew Vili had never truly left her.

Dis struck you as a true mother. Concerned, passionate, headstrong, but comforting and kind. She had lost so much, yet had an unlimited amount of love to give. And you knew, from the moment she saw you, she'd regarded you as her own.

"Thank you, Dis". Her heart melted as you finally had felt comfortable enough not to be formal with her.

"Always, child. You just come to me", she replied, beginning to work again on her project.

To your own confusion, Dis had begun stitch a leather belt bound with fur to your waist. The color of your dress with this minor addition reminded you in some strange way of Fili. Or the comforts of a fireplace and a bed. The dress needed only a few alterations over the next hour before Dis finally finished her work of art.

"My masterpiece!", she marveled, pulling you down from the stool at long last. The dress fell right above your feet, leaving them unhindered and visible. "Don't you look a right angel?". You found yourself smiling at the floor in your bashfulness.

"You're too kind", you uttered out softly. "Thank you".

"It was a pleasure!", she insisted. "You are free to join the festivities of dinner now!". Your head shook to her greater confusion, before you elaborated,

"No, thank you. I'd rather wait and go with you".

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Dis had linked arms with you, now ready in an elegant dark blue evening gown of her own making. You loved her thick raven locks, even admiring the soft, well-kept beard upon her strong jawline. You had helped her choose a small crown which sat nicely in her braided half-up and the studded boots she now wore with her dress. The halls were lit with fire torches upon the walls, music and merriment from the dining hall and ballroom being heard from the bowels of the city. Dwalin sat with a small Thrain upon his lap, eating and chewing with no remorse, only giving the year-old pebble boring, soft and mushy foods for his own safety. He downed pints of mead and ale like the many others enjoying the festivities. Bilbo had even been asked to retell the story of his adventures to the smaller Dwarven children that had come. He sat at one end of the large table, a group of children before him; inclusive of Frerin. Bofur, who was a toymaker at heart, had made a puppet of Smaug and joined on emphasis, enjoying the company of his friend again after so long. The party was keenly observed by Balin and Thorin, who assumed the stone throne at the head of the table.

The King smiled, watching his nephews greet their friends and family with eagerness. Each of them carried a pint of ale, recounting days long passed and joking in merriment with each other. Thorin eagerly awaited the arrival of his sister and it seemed he was not the only one.

"My King Thorin", Tauriel greeted him kindly with a bow, earning herself a warm smile from the King. It had taken time and plenty of patience, but Thorin over the few years after Erebor had been reclaimed; had come to see Elves as his friends, friends of his people. Tauriel had become kin, just as you and Bilbo had.

"Tauriel", he inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"Where is Lady Dis? I much await to see her". Thorin chuckled, only responding,

"She is on her way, with our other honoured guest".

"(Y/n)!", she huffed excitedly. "Kili mentioned that she would be here".

"And she will be". The party remained lively, yet, Fili was feeling tortured at Nori and Kili's shameless teasing.

"First an Elf maid in the family? Now a Hobbit? You lot ought to 'ave your heads checked", Nori sighed, exasperated and amused.

"It's not like that!", Fili insisted. "She's a lovely lass, but I can't say I fancy her". Dwalin, who sat mere feet away at the table, scrutinized the conversation with the same unamused expression he'd had in Rivendell many years ago. He chewed obnoxiously, cradling Kili's second son effortlessly in one arm.

"Y' can't expect me to believe that codswallop after your brother sprouted the same thing. And now look", he grunted. "Married and child-bound to an Elf maid. 'Can't say I fancy Elf maids', my hairy arse". Fili scoffed at Dwalin's words, slugging at his ale absent-mindedly, before he heard Balin's voice.

"May I introduce, the Lady Dis to the party and her companion (Y/n) of the Shire; one of our two honoured guests this evening!". Ale painfully travelled through Fili's nasal cavity, causing him to clear his throat and wipe his face.

"You alright?", Kili teased, raising his brows.

"Fine", his brother snapped back, turning his ocean gaze to the staircase in which you descended. Your arms were linked with his mother's and the dress you wore— it was his mother's craft. He noticed the little ways in which it resembled his ensemble. The dress looked stunning on your smaller frame, cascading like a warm waterfall to your feet. Sleeves had also been added, breaking the neutrality. The mithrel glitterered perfectly. Your curls were long and loose upon your shoulders. You were just so naturally regal. Fili felt a strange tightness within his chest, attempting an almost nervous slug at his ale. "Mahal, she's beautiful". His words were quiet, beneath his breath whilst he managed to tear his eyes from your form.

"What did I tell ye?", Dwalin huffed amusedly, shaking his head. "Codswallop".

Upon entry, you had adjusted to the rowdy party setting. Some Dwarves sang and danced upon the tables. Other Dwarves were less civilized, throwing food with obnoxious conversation and laughter. You admired the various decor, cozily coloured orange with gold trimmings. Fili had picked them out; you knew as such. You had spied him from across the room after getting well acquainted with Tauriel. You kept any eagerness for seeing him restrained whilst you sat with Thorin, Balin and Dis.

"Another fine party for another beautiful equinox", Balin sighed, joyfully scanning the room. Dis nodded in agreement, observing the many faces from Erebor that had come to celebrate with their royalty. Bilbo, alike to yourself, had grown used to the chaos of Dwarven mealtimes. To your eyes, he seemed happier in Erebor. Less isolated. You turned your gaze to Thorin, who eyed you happily as a proud father would.

"It's so beautiful. The people are rowdy, but it truly does make the party all the merrier", you observed, tucking into the hot servings of food.

"Just wait until the town dance. Then the party truly begins", Thorin grinned. Dis matched his smile with excitement. This was something every Dwarf looked forward to on the approach to Durin's day and it was so precious to see all that happiness right in front of you. The food was a delight to your stomach, the sweet mead filling your soul. The air was crisp and cool, wafting in from the stone balcony. You found yourself relaxing at long last, enjoying the atmosphere when Dis turned to you.

"(Y/n), why don't you participate in the town dance??". You grew nervous at the idea. You hardly knew anyone or the dance.

"It is fun!", Tauriel insisted gently, her smile radiant like that of the glittering stars. Aside from being a powerful warrior, you understood why Kili had fallen for her. "I will be participating".

"By tradition, you need to find yourself a partner", Balin added, smiling for your comfort.

"How??", you sputtered. "I've only ever done circle dances". He chuckled at your expression, wholeheartedly jovial in this situation.

"It's nothing complicated, My Dear. Just take a goblet of ale and offer it to any man. If they drink, they accept the offer to be your dancing partner".

"I will show you", Dis giggled, Balin already knowing what she was up to. She stood with a goblet of her own, making her way over to a very stoic looking Dwarf.

"Oh, he'll love this", Thorin restrained his laughter.

"Who will?", you asked in your complete confusion.

"Dwalin", the two males replied simultaneously. That name rung a bell. Thorin and Bilbo had mentioned him to you. You remembered him not being overly approachable. Just from what you were told of first impressions. All three of you watched as Dis began to offer her drink to Dwalin. He had a baby upon his lap that he bounced about and cradled effortlessly before he snatched the goblet from his female counterpart and downed the ale. He didn't seem particularly impressed or excited, but Dis didn't seem to mind as her steps brought her back to you.

"And now I have my dance partner", she grinned.

"How is he taking it being on both babysitting and dancing duty?", Thorin enquired, not able to restrain any amused expression.

"He's being Dwalin about it", she sighed. "Taking it with indifference and chewing loudly, as he always does".

"I almost feel sorry for him", Balin sniggered. "Almost". He turned to you. "Now lass, it's your turn". Dis poured you a goblet of ale, handing it to you eagerly. The metal felt freezing within your smaller hands, but you became afraid of your hands becoming clammy in your nervousness. You bowed to the three Dwarves and their Elven counterpart before walking into the crowds in an attempt to find a partner. You were tempted to grab Fili, but you were positive that he'd already have a partner alike to his brother; some part of you feeling the tinges of disappointment. You had spied Bilbo, but his storytelling hadn't ceased. You couldn't interrupt him now, although you were running out of time. You quickly spotted a Dwarf near Dwalin with the oddest hair you'd seen meeting in three separate points.

"If y' going to ask Nori to dance, ye better mind your pockets, lass"

"What's that supposed to mean?", you inquired with some worry.

"It means, find y'self another dance partner", Dwalin ground out with a roll of his eyes.

"Aye", you sighed with some exasperation. You hardly needed a sneak-thief's hands on your waist, let alone in your pockets as well. And to your panic, Thorin had stepped up to address everyone. You were too late!

"Good evening, everyone!". Every Dwarf and dam fell silent, turning their gazes to their King happily. "This is your last chance to find yourselves a partner for the dance before we begin!". The few Dwarves that didn't wish to participate started to leave and others in full confidence; had found partners.

"Dori, I'll dance with her! She has no-one", a soft, but polite voice murmured from nearby, only to be shut down.

"You cause injury to every dance partner, every equinox, Ori. Just skip out, for the love of Mahal. Dancing is just not in your talents". You spied the young Dwarf with sympathy and thought that alike to him, you might just skip out as well.

"It's for the best", a kind voice reassured you, now next to you unexpectedly. "Ori is a good lad. He just has two left feet". The familiar golden mane of the Prince in your peripheral gave him away. How long had he been standing there?? A soft laugh rumbled in his chest, his ocean eyes moving to meet your own. You followed in soft laughter, fawning,

"Aw, but I just feel bad for him. You can see he likes dancing".

"I take it that you do as well", the Princeling added, gesturing to the goblet in your hands.

"Yes— well. I have no partner", you confessed with shame. "I've run out of time. I have to leave the floor". You moved to dismiss yourself from his presence, not wishing to be in the way of the dance, when you felt the warmth of his hand on your own. His mouth parted and he nearly retracted only to find that you were receptive to him.

"May I partake?", Fili offered, his voice tender and light. He grasped the goblet with his free hand for elaboration. You found yourself fighting your shock, nodding without words, knowing that they couldn't be trusted at this very moment. His head dipped politely when he took the ale; and within but a moment, he'd finished the beverage, setting the goblet down at last.

"You may now begin!", Thorin flagged the crowd with a boisterous wave of his hand.

"Fili!", you whispered to him amidst your sudden panic. "I don't know what to do!". His ocean eyes found yours again, unphased by your words.

"Just trust me", his hushed voice soothed you, whilst his hands took yours. His grin was light and reassuring, his thumbs running caresses over your soft skin. A warmth spread within your heart, your hands subconsciously squeezing his own back. For reasons you couldn't yet place, you felt entirely at ease with Fili. You trusted him completely.

"I don't believe it", Dwalin breathed out incredulously, eyeing you with the Princeling from afar.

"I can", Kili grinned, taking his bride by her hands lovingly.

"So, he finally put aside his hogwash and grew some bullocks. About time". Dis playfully whacking her dance partner's shoulder to his own amusement. She smiled almost proudly at her firstborn,

"I'm happy for him, if this is what he wants. I just want him to be happy".

"Aye. Me too", Dwalin conceded with some hesitation, adding, "Even if the little ingrate couldn't choose a maid from Erebor".

"Just shut up!", Dis giggled, allowing the hardened Dwarf to take her hands in his own, Thrain strapped to his chest safely. Bilbo had ceased storytelling, encouraging the children to watch the various pairs in the crowd. Bofur leapt onto the dinner table with his flute handy, ready to serenade the party with joy itself. The music had changed from various drum beats to a more calculated song. Bilbo noted how similar the merriness of the music sounded in comparison to the music the Dwarves sang at his home in Bag End, how similar it was to the Hobbit festival music.

"Reminds me of a summer's eve festival", you murmured, unable to fight your smile as the music built up.

"I've grown up with this. Every year, not being able to participate. It's beautiful. And I'm excited that I finally can". The Princeling matched your jovial expression, bringing your left hand to cradle his shoulder, whilst he took to holding the small of your back with his right. "Are you comfortable?". Carefully, he began to sway to the music with you, your joined steps in time with the music going faster.

"Yes", you exhaled, causing a short laugh to leave his throat.

"Good". Fili's face broke into a grin as he lead you carefully to start jumping whilst you swayed. You took his lead, eagerly showing him your trust and enthusiasm. "Right. Grab my shoulders.. now!". Instantly, you obeyed, his steady hands reaching for your waist. You became weightless, a blissful cry leaving your lips when he effortlessly swung you above his head. Your head was spinning when he placed you down. His hand reached for yours and he used the momentum to twirl you around. You laughed when your face was met with his hard shoulder, catching a comforting whiff of smoked wood and honey in his scent. "Keeping up, (Y/n)?", he teased with a hidden underlying concern.

"Of course", you pushed back to his amusement, knowing that he'd take it as a challenge. A mirthful chuckle left his lips, his brows raising,

"Alright then". Holding you as close as he possibly could, Fili fell into the faster rhythms of the dance with you. His hands squeezed yours whilst he spun you both in a circle. You enjoyed the texture of his callouses on your skin, the way his larger hands made you feel warm and the steadiness of them whilst he held you. Your eyes were like stars to him. He couldn't look away, eyeing your expression for any unsurity and finding nothing but trust and bliss there. It warmed the very depths of his soul. For Fili, it was hard to love others outside of his family. Many sought to take advantage of the next in line for the throne for their riches or status. Yet, for the first time in a long time, his regality was forgotten. He could be his true self easily around you, to his own surprise. It was you. Your fun-loving nature. You helped him let go, even if it was for tonight alone. Another cry of laughter left your lips as he swung you again above his head for the last time in the dance. Your feet were upon his as the music came to a halt, your hands still clasped to his shoulders. Your ragged breaths mingled, the joy having not left either of your two expressions. The blonde's nose brushed yours, the faint cry Kili let out at Nori's laughter making you both laugh.

"Shut up, Nori! It's okay for the lady to lift the man in the dance!". The youngest Durin grumbled. "Every year!". Tauriel's laughter echoed your own. Your eyes scanned the Prince's blue ones. His hands drew imaginary patterns on your waist, sparking shivers to your core. You need only have leaned in to kiss him, every fibre of your being wanting to.

"Did you like the dance?", his voice was but a soft breath. You nodded, still feeling breathless yourself. Resisting your impulses, you allowed your head to come to a rest upon his shoulder, sparking him to rub your back comfortingly. You were tired, but he held you steady. Fili's heart knew if given the chance, he'd hold you forever. A sudden sadness struck him. You would go home after your stay, however long it may be. He would be bound to stay in Erebor, as always. How many years would pass before your next visit? There were so many unsurities. It was then that you llifted your head, smiling at the Prince and melting his heart in the process. You broke from his gentle grip and curtsied politely.

"Thank you for partaking with me". He grinned, bowing to you in return,

"The honour was mine, My Lady".

"You both danced so well!", Dis fawned grabbing you both by an arm each gently. Your gaze hit the floor again in your bashfulness.

"Thank you. But, Fili took the lead. He's the real reason I didn't fall over", you uttered modestly.

"Nonsense, child", she chided gently. "It always takes two to dance these songs". Fili nodded in agreement, chuckling softly. His eyes traced your features again, memorising every dimple, your eyes.

"(Y/n) is quite the talented dancer. If she had not trusted me, it would have all been for naught. I was lucky to have her". Dis surpressed her intrigue at her son's words, watching how you took them. She could see more modesty in your bashfulness as you bowed your head in gratitude. Dis decided then to leave you both be, to observe from afar, if at all.

"Where's (Y/n)?", Thorin had asked once his sister was seated with him again.

"Being young. As the night deserves". Thorin nodded. "She's quite safe with Fili". At his sister's words, the King found himself grinning whilst he sipped his ale. He saw the both of you dancing, marveling at how quick you both had become so trusting and fond of the other. And perhaps some part of him wished, alike to Dis, for you both to be happy together. Either as friends or more.

The party remained active, a few of the couples continuing to dance to the merriness of the music still being played in the background. Dwalin had finished his meal and had taken to playing with Thrain, using his homemade thistle-rattle. Everyone knew that despite his hard exterior, the stoic dwarf had a good, soft heart when it mattered. He'd spotted both yourself and Fili leaving for the balcony in good spirits. "With any luck, your Uncle might give y' a cousin!", he mused in a childish manner, bouncing the little pebble. "He just needs to get his act together and grow some jambags!". Thrain's little brown eyes sparkled at his Uncle's playful expressions, unable to understand anything but Dwalin's lighthearted tone of voice. Thrain gurgled back, drooling lazily. "Agreed", the older Dwarf huffed back, grabbing a cloth napkin to wipe at the babe's mouth.

The cool autumn breeze blew wistfully upon the balcony, rustling the surrounding trees. It was only a small area barely poking from the mountain by the front gates, undecorated and empty. Stars had hit their peaks in the sky above and the moon seemed like a romantic spotlight, shining upon the mountain face. Fili's blue eyes had become beautifully brighter with the touches of moonlight, the brightness seeming to give him an ethereal aura that stole your breath from your lungs. You followed him in leaning on the thick railing of stone, finding it hard not to admire the land in which he and his family lived. Now you understood why Thorin had missed Erebor. This was the kingdom he'd grown up in. Beautiful markets, festivals, Equinox celebrations. Cool autumn evenings with the comfort of good food. You even found yourself pondering if he'd ever stood here on one fair evening with a Dwarf he admired romantically. If he'd ever had the chance to experience the magic of the feelings in your own blood. Feelings like the ones you have now for his nephew. "It's really beautiful", Fili murmured at last in some form of contentment. He turned to you, making you painfully aware that you stood almost completely shoulder to shoulder. You nodded softly.

"More beautiful than any view back home", you breathed, reminding him of the green grasses and stone paths of the Shire.

"The Shire is beautiful in its own way. Very similar to here. All the same comforts. Just more spacious".

"Careful, Fili. I might end up staying forever if you keep advertising like that". You'd only half-meant the joke, already loving Erebor. You'd even debated staying longer than your planned month. Just to be with Thorin and his family for a while longer.

"And you would be most welcome to stay", Fili insisted, catching you offguard. "If that's what you choose, of course".

"Thank you". Your smile was contagious, eliciting a grin from him. "I can see why you like it out here. It's peaceful".

"There's another reason". The Princeling smiled with an almost childish delight, looking to you before pointing to the left of the horizon for the nearby stone city. "Dale usually lights lanterns of zharr. That's how they celebrate the seasonal change. Their new year may be on approach. I cannot be sure", he chuckled. "But, I love it". Fili never shared his small pleasures with anyone, afraid of being vulnerable. So, he'd always come alone to watch over the passing years. With your company, he finally felt as if someone could share in his delights. You admired this side to him, seeing him so in awe of the golden lanterns that now scattered the dark skies.

"Zharr", you repeated, stilling his breath with your pronunciation of his Khuzdul slip.

"It means 'fire' in my native language", he whispered, dipping his head in his slight embarrassment. "My apologies. When I get excited, I tend to slip various words".

"I love it", you blurted out all too excitedly, making his eyes widen and brows furrow from surprise and confusion. "Can you talk more?".

"In Khuzdul?". Fili felt his ears were betraying him. Why would a Hobbit take such curiosity in such an indelicate language? Elvish was the usual favourite..

"Yes, in Khuzdul", you insisted with a short giggle, subconsciously leaning into the warmth of his shoulder. The blonde Dwarf was at a loss.

"What would you like to know?".

"Anything!", you shrugged, enthused nonetheless. Fili's mind drifted to his favourite words of assurance, hoping to impress you with some more gentle words of his language rather than the battle-cries and manly compliments. His lips parted, finding himself in hesitation. He offered you a smile, tracing your face with fondness,

"Menu gamut khed". Goosebumps scattered across your skin, something about the way he spoke in his native tongue intriguing you. Heat had also risen in your cheeks at the intensity and gentleness of his gaze, the moon masking it with its pale light.

"What does that mean?".

"That you are a wonderful person". Using his elbow, he nudged your arm gently. "Which you are". Your head bowed in bashfulness, your laugh bringing speed to his heart.

"Thank you". Fili beamed, murmuring,

"Ai menu duzhuk, mazarinh".

"You cheeky bastard, what does that mean?", you laughed.

"At your service, daring lady". You were unable to mask your amusement, seeing his own.

"Hobbits are hardly daring, Princeling", you shot back teasingly.

"Funny", his brows rose in challenge. "Both Hobbits I know are. Having travelled so far from the comforts of their home. But, that secret is safe with me". Cheekily, he offered you a wink, your eyes averting with some shyness.

"Maybe you should be daring and travel?", you suggested. "Stay in Bag End?". His heart wrenched, the brightness in his eyes seeming to dim. He wouldn't allow you to notice as his eyes travelled back to the horizon.

"I'm not allowed such freedoms", the blonde shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. He fumbled with his fingers as an unconscious way of soothing himself. You could tell that you'd plucked the wrong string with him.

"You could always get Kili to cover for you? Thorin is still King. He'd let you go?". The hopefulness in your voice did little to change his resolve.

"Thorin will not be King for much longer. I am his heir. All of his duties and my current ones will fall onto me as soon as he decides to abdicate the throne", Fili sighed. "I will be too busy. And Kili hasn't been groomed for the throne like myself. He cannot perform the duties all on his own. I'm already far too busy to leave, to my detriment". Your brows furrowed in your concern, subconsciously reaching to hold his forearm, caressing it comfortingly. He restrained himself from reaching to hold you, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"You don't seem pleased to be the next in line", you confessed, eliciting a soft, yet sad smile from the Princeling.

"I'm not particularly happy or sad", he murmured. "I never asked for this, but I'm happy to be a King for my people. My lack of freedom is worth their happiness, their safety. I have a duty to them". You nodded in understanding, meeting eyes with him. And for reasons you couldn't understand at all, you could read his gaze, seeing an underlying worry.

"But, there's something else on your mind", you inderluded, giving his forearm a squeeze. His eyes had grown wider in surprise. No friend of his had ever seen through him like that.

"There is", his voice grew quiet, his gaze falling to his hands that still fumbled. You knew he was ashamed of whatever it was. Fili gnawed the inside of his bottom lip, his eyes seeming glassy. "I am afraid, (Y/n)". His confession was quiet, strained with hesitation and pain. You nodded, moving your hand upon his two for his comfort. His bare skin was burning hot to the touch, clammy out of nervousness. He enveloped your hand in his two, using his fingers and palms to warm your cooler skin and to soothe himself. "A curse lies upon that throne. It has been apparent in my bloodline since the rule of my great grandfather, Thror". You knew of which curse he was referring to. Thorin and Bilbo had told you of it. Dragonsickness. It had been seventeen years since Erebor had been reclaimed. Seventeen years since Thorin overcame his Dragonsickness, giving all of the gold away that was promised to Laketown to rebuild Dale and the lake city. He had used the rest to rebuild the kingdom of Erebor in which you now stood. Although there was no gold left, Fili feared the curse. That it may change him or cause him to have uncharacteristic greed and arrogance. There was nothing he feared more. "He became entirely consumed by a lack of compassion. His greed set the foundations for Smaug. And when Smaug was no more, the sickness fell to the next in line, Thorin. I watched it consume him. Make him jealous, obsessive, unkind. It frightened me. It still does. It may have skipped my grandfather, Thrain, but I fear it may still linger here". When Fili's eyes closed, he imagined himself totally enthralled by the curse on a throne of dishonour. He feared above all, that he would lose himself. "I cannot allow myself to be that. I cannot—". Your touch upon his bearded face paused his anxious ramblings. Softly, your thumb traced his cheekbones, wiping the stray tears that had begun to fall unbeknownst to himself. His ocean orbs met yours, fully glassed, still brimming with tears.

"And you won't be that, Fili", your voice was a hushed whisper, allowing your hand to linger on his hot skin. You threaded your fingertips into the hair by his temple, making his skin light up in goosebumps. He thanked Mahal that his arms were covered by his coat. "I see you now. You are compassionate, courageous and selfless. Being courageous isn't about doing things without fear. It's being scared and doing it anyway. Don't be ashamed of your fear, Fili. You won't be cursed with dragonsickness. There is no cursed gold here and no greed in your heart". Your words soothed the Prince. Unsurity still remained, although it had lessened.

"(Y/n), I'm sorry—", he rasped, allowing himself to sniffle. Guilt filled his heart at letting you see him weep, even if there was no intent. Fili wondered what both his Uncle Frerin and father would've thought, seeing him so pressured by fear. It felt dishonourable to him, having been brought up never to express oneself with tears in public, as it showed too much vulnerability for a potential King. He always had to be strong for his people. He couldn't remember the last time he cried, now that he thought of it.

"Fili, it's alright", you hushed him, continuing your soft caresses on his face. You didn't seem to mind or scorn the blonde Prince, to his surprise. There was no judgement in your eyes at his tears. "If you need time, I can leave you".

"Don't", he blurted out, coming to hold the hand you'd laid upon his face. "You are a comfort. Please don't leave". You smiled in some semblance of relief, still noticing the tears that lingered. Moving your other hand from his, you gently held the braids closest to his face, stroking down the plaits soothingly. Not realizing the importance of hair, you didn't pay any mind to the way he looked at you with a glint of longing, only focusing on bringing your foreheads together the way Thorin had with you so many times before. Your knowledge of this embrace surprised Fili, but he didn't resist your touch. Your noses brushed, his forehead gently resting against your own. Softly, he inhaled your scent of earthy flowers, allowing himself to be at peace with you. His own spare hand moved to move the stray curls from your face, eyeing your face for unsurity. He felt complete. It was an odd feeling. But, it was as if an invisible thread attached to his soul had met its other end. His mouth parted, his breath hitching from hesitation. "You're so beautiful". Fili felt the warmth increase within your skin, your breath having stilled at the way he spoke that phrase. Despite your underlying modesty and doubt, there was no dishonesty in the Princeling's steady ocean eyes whilst they danced over your features.

"So are you", your reply was but a breath, fanning over his nearby lips. You gently ran your fingertips down one of his braids, admiring the softness of them and the warmth pouring from his being as the evening grew colder around you. Being so close with him, you finally felt as if your heart had found its home. It was a connection not even you could fathom, as if it had been long in the making. That same longing danced within his gaze, his scent both comforting and intoxicating to you. The Prince became sure of himself, his lashes coming to flutter against your supple skin when his face neared yours. Out of anticipation for his touch, you moistened your lips, deciding to help close the short distance.

"Khîê–", his hot breath ghosted your lips before he seized them gently with his own. His kiss was delicate and hot like fire, slowly becoming more intense. Your hands weaved into the strands of his silken mane, a soft hum leaving his throat at the blissful goosebumps your touch gave him. His touch left tingles wherever his hands brushed, his strong grip molding your form into his. Fili's brows had furrowed subconsciously in his concentration, his lips swollen when you parted. Your foreheads remained together, eyes still closed. Fili's voice had become hoarse when he murmured, "Amrâlimê". You could hear the soft smile in his voice, the word he uttered sending flutters along your spine like it called to your heart itself. When your eyes opened to meet Fili's deep blues, you shared in the smile he'd offered to you. He tilted your face upwards, cradling it like delicate glass. You found yourself melting into Fili's touch when his lips pressed again to yours in a feathersoft kiss. "I have something to offer you", he breathed out once your lips parted, bringing your hand up to the braid that sat behind his left ear. He wrapped your fingertips around the metal bead at the end of the plait before allowing you to pull it from his hair. The silver bead gleamed within your palm, the moonlight revealing the intricate rune and few symbols engraved upon it that you did not understand.

"Fili, it's beautiful!", you marveled at the craftmanship, eliciting a gorgeous smile from the Prince in his mirth.

"My mother and father made a bead for both my brother and myself. They both put their love into the make of it and engraved it with the markings of their houses. The main, being Durin". Your brows rose in shock, your mouth falling open.

"Fili, I can't take this, your parents—".

"Made it for courtship", he cut in, ceasing your anxious ramblings gently. "For my One". Although you knew next to nothing of Dwarven courtship, you knew that Fili was offering you something more sacred than this bead. His life, his heart, his soul. Fili's eyes were hopeful whilst he gnawed his bottom lip. "(Y/n), I feel as if a thread ties my heart to yours. Please tell me if this connection is just mine alone". Reaching for his hand, your head shook.

"It isn't. I was drawn to you for reasons I couldn't place. And then I realised something in my time with you tonight". His brows rose in interest, begging you to continue. "You feel like home, Fili. Something I've not had in what seems like forever. After I lost my mother, I felt empty. Bag End is a beautiful home, but my heart knew it wasn't where I belonged. Being here with you, being with your family, I finally feel like I belong".

"Then stay", Fili's lips ghosted near your own, his eyes seeming to almost plead with you silently. Allowing your actions to speak for you, your lips captured his in a feverish kiss, his body instinctively pressing flush upon your own.

"Like you had to ask", you hummed playfully after reducing him into a state of bliss. A giggle left the Dwarf Prince, his grin meeting his eyes. The fates had finally blessed him with his One. Per the Dwarven custom, Fili reached for a cluster of strands sitting behind your right ear and had separated them into three parts. His bottom lip sat between his teeth whilst carefully weaving your strands into a soft, silken braid. The excitement glittering within his eyes could not be masked, his breath having stilled in his concentration. The moonlight continued to make the Prince seem otherworldly and divine, as if the Durins were made for its rays. When the bead had clicked into place at the end of your braid, you beheld Fili's handiwork in wonder. A sense of accomplishment fell upon you as if the bead had always meant to be there. "It's so beautiful", you whispered, tugging upon it softly.

"It belongs to you now, like my heart". You carefully took his face into your smaller hands, brushing the stray hairs from his face whilst his hands came to caress the tips of your pointed ears. His gaze shamelessly admired your delicate features, your soft freckles and cascading curls.

"I will treasure both with all that I am, giving you my own heart in return". Before your heads could meet, your gazes were drawn to the approaching footsteps of none other than the Mountain King himself. Fili remained relaxed in the presence of his Uncle as he approached, smiling broadly with pride, "I hope I am not interrupting".

"Not at all, Uncle", Fili insisted in genuity, Thorin's gaze falling upon your courting braid.

"It seems much has been realised between you both. And I much wish to congratulate you".

"Thank you", you beamed at the man you'd continuously come to appreciate as a father figure. His soul warmed at your modest nature. For Thorin, it had become apparent that fate had not only blessed him with you, but his nephew as well. Perhaps, you were always destined to be Thorin's family? Not that he minded, considering that he had regarded you as kin since you were young. Yet now, looking upon the woman you had become, he realised that his nephew could not be in better hands with such a kindhearted spouse to share in his life.

With an affectionate smile, the King found himself laying a hand upon each of your shoulders. "Know this. I am proud of you both, always".

When you and Fili rejoined the party, a shout bellowed from Dwalin. "I bloody knew it!!", he had shouted once spying your courting braid from afar. "You owe me 50 coins, Nori! Pay up!!". Sputtering excuses, the sneak-thief saw fit to try and leave to no avail. Dwalin handed Kili's youngest son back to him before vaulting over the table in pursuit of the smaller Dwarf. Fili's lips pursed in his restraint of laughter, eyeing your mirthful grin in his peripheral. Excusing himself from you, he travelled to where his mother onlooked in fondness.

"Fili", Dis sighed, her eyes glimmering in delight.

"Amad". His smile was as soft as it had been with you, allowing his face to be cradled by his mother.

"You've found happiness. It's more than I could've hoped for you". Her son's head dipped in gratefulness.

"I am happy", he assured her. "And maybe, we will have our first Queen Under the Mountain?". Dis pressed a kiss to Fili's forehead, holding it against her own for a moment.

"I await that day with great excitement, my son".

Everything was perfect...

_______________________________

The halls of Durin had been tense.

Thorin Oakenshield paced the halls of his home, his sister and youngest nephew with his family awaiting news from Fili eagerly. It had been many hours since they last laid eyes upon him. "Great Uncle", Frerin called upon the King, catching his fond attention. "How much longer?".

"Uncle Fee is taking forever", Thrain whined in addition. Tauriel rubbed the back of her youngest son in consolation whilst his father held him close. Frerin bounced on his heels restlessly, recieving an amused smile from Thorin. The older Dwarf knelt in front of the auburn haired boy, brushing his messy hair from his face before patting his shoulder affectionately.

"He shouldn't be much longer now, Dear One", he assured.

"Calm down, boys", Kili grinned, bobbing the pebble in his arms playfully. "The more you think about it and gripe, the longer it'll take for you".

"No fair", Thrain huffed, pouting in his frustration.

"It has been a while", Dis sighed in worry, gnawing on her lower lip out of nervousness. "Perhaps I should—".

"No", Thorin placated her gently. "You needn't check on him. He will come to us. Have faith". Her eldest brother always had a way of making her feel at ease, even when she didn't want to be. Tauriel extended her comforting touch to Dis, the mother sharing an appreciative look toward her daughter-in-law. Footsteps echoed in the hall, alarming everyone to a new presence. Bilbo came rushing up the steps at the end of the hall, panting from exhaustion.

"I came as soon as I heard. Has it happened yet?".

"No, but you are right on time, old friend", Thorin grinned. The Hobbit, despite his exhaustion, offered a grateful smile to the Mountain King. All of them awaited Fili's return with bated breath for only moments more before the wooden doors nearest to them opened. With exhaustion riddling his entire form, the golden-haired Prince huffed with a lopsided smile. Frerin hugged his Uncle excitedly, recieving a half-hug back.

"It's time". As if everyone knew what the announcement was, they filed through the door and into the winding halls beyond. It wasn't long before the group reached an open room.

"(Y/n)", Kili breathed out, excited to see his sister in-law again after so many hours. He raced to your side, hugging your ragged form in your bedrest. Thorin, despite how he'd remained calm before, also had his eyes clouded in concern.

"Are you alright?", he questioned, his eyes monitoring you for any signs of pain.

"I'm fine", you sighed, offering your husband a grateful look whilst he assumed your bedside again. Bilbo quickly cleared Kili aside, surprising you with his presence. Your shout of joy at seeing your old friend had everyone laughing happily at your reunion. The older Hobbit embraced you softly, caressing your back comfortingly whilst he held you. Dis and Tauriel had even taken to your side afterwards, checking you over for injury in a bout of protectiveness.

"She's fine", Fili assured your family, grinning in delight when he turned and reached down into a nearby cradle. "I've got someone who wants to meet you all".

"Our cousin!!", Frerin screeched in his excitement, jumping up and down eagerly.

Everyone watched in pure excitement as Fili cradled a small bundle gently in his arms, bringing it closer to his family. The babe had sandy blonde hair dusting his small head, his little ears tilted back and pointed; like a Hobbit's ears, only more delicate and rounded. The feet were only slightly enlarged, taking more after the Dwarven side. "It's a boy", his father announced proudly, everyone letting out a cheer and round of applause. Dis was the first to hold her grandson, tears brimming in her ocean gaze.

"(Y/n), Fili; he's so beautiful". It was hard for Fili to keep his own tears at bay, seeing his mother so emotionally enthralled by his child. With astounding gentleness, she laid a kiss on her grandson's forehead, passing him over to her brother Thorin. The older Dwarf was just as taken by the child, his voice wet with the tears that threatened to fall,

"He is an exact combination of you both". Thorin's thumb brushed the rounded Hobbit-like cheeks. He could hardly believe that the boy in his arms would one day be the King of Erebor. "He's spectacular".

"We've chosen a name", you spoke up, catching the immediate attention of everyone again. "We're naming our firstborn after a man we owe almost everything to". You looked to Fili with an excited glint in your eyes, silently asking him to continue.

"We're calling our son Thorin III, the next King of Erebor after myself. We are naming him after the greatest King to walk these halls". Fili's eyes travelled to his Uncle whose mouth had parted in some semblance of shock. Thorin's eyes glanced both at yours and within Fili's, checking to see if you'd played him. There was no jesting, no dishonesty. "You were a father figure to myself, Kili and even (Y/n). You didn't have to try most days. And we are eternally grateful to you". Fili swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to mask his tears, "Know that you are loved dearly, Uncle. By all of us". Thorin's bottom lip tremored before being pursed, the King taking a deep breath to calm the sea of emotions within his heart and mind. Thorin hadn't even thought twice about assuming a parental role when it came to his nephews after the loss of their father. Nor did he ever expect gratitude of any kind for the rearing in return. Only now did he realise the extent of his actions. His eyes danced to you. You who had always wordlessly considered the King a father figure from your youth to your adulthood.

"This is an honour greater than any I have ever recieved", Thorin said amidst the few tears that fell softly from his strong eyes. "I am grateful to the both of you. Eternally grateful". His steps brought him closer to Fili, who took his Uncle into a solid Dwarven embrace, their heads meeting with a masculine hardiness. Dis covered her mouth to cover the sobs of joy that now wracked her body. Kili shared a grin with Tauriel, fondly remembering the days his own boys were born. The two pebbles, now 10 and 5, anxiously awaited the moment they could meet their cousin for the first time.

"Can we hold him?!", Frerin begged. "Please, Uncle Fee??". The blonde Dwarf laughed in the embrace he shared with his Uncle, taking the small bundle back.

"You may, as long as you both can be careful", he warned with an underlying sternness.

"We promise!", Thrain begged, his hazel orbs glittering with desperation. Fili knelt by his two nephews, peeling back the blanket that swaddled the pebble. Frerin gently ran his hand along the sleeping face of his cousin, marveling at the softness. "He's so tiny!". Everyone laughed at Thrain's proclaimation.

"Which is why you need to be so careful". Frerin nodded at his Uncle's words, reaching for the tiny hand that had curled up by the chest of the sleeping baby.

"I'm your cousin", Frerin whispered to the bundle, the tiny hand curling around one of his fingers. "And like Thrain, I will always protect you, Thorin. I promise".

"We love you, Thorin", Thrain had cooed, stroking his hand over the babe's sandy curls. Bilbo reached for a handkerchief, wiping at his eyes desperately.

"You holding up alright?", you asked the older Hobbit, him nodding and sniffling.

"Just something in my eyes". The family of Durin shared a laugh, Fili seeing fit to allow the Burglar a hold of his firstborn. "I'm— I'm in no condition to–".

"Of course you are", Fili insisted, moving the bundle into Bilbo's arms. He felt awkward at first before he quickly adjusted to the little one's presence, seeming to completely halt his tears. A joyful smile lit up Bilbo's face whilst he rocked the bundle softly.

"Hello, Thorin", he giggled nervously, holding the babe close to his chest.

"So Fee", Kili called to his brother with a suggestive brow raise. "When are you going to have another one, eh?". Tauriel elbowed her husband with an incredulous expression, bringing out a guffaw from the younger Durin.

"About that". The room fell silent in shock, Fili's blue hues travelling to where you laid upon the bed.

"We had twins", your addition almost had Bilbo fainting.

"Tell me you have a girl!", Kili begged with a childlike delight.

"Calm down, Kili", Fili laughed. "We had another boy". His younger brother was not disappointed in the slightest, understanding that girls were quite rare in Dwarven culture to begin with. He considered himself a blessed Uncle nonetheless.

"Where is he?!", Tauriel fawned, eagerly eyeing the room.

"With a healer, getting cleaned up and checked".

"Your Highnesses!", Dralana called to you and your family excitedly. Stepping into the room with a respectful bow, she revealed the bundle she carried carefully within her arms. The babe had the exact same ears and feet as his brother, the curls upon his head being more of a golden-brown in comparison to his brother Thorin III. There was also light tufts of hair along his jawline, unlike his older brother. Fili gestured to Kili, Dralana handing the bundle to the dark haired Durin. Both brothers inclined their heads to the kind servant as she departed.

"Hello, little one", Kili greeted the newborn, Tauriel brushing one of her delicate digits over the boy's head.

"Mírë", the Elf-Maid cooed. "So precious". Fili approached his younger brother, caressing the head of his second son, before addressing the room.

"Allow me to introduce to all of you–", he spared a glance to his mother especially, "–Our second son, Vili".

"You didn't", Kili's mouth fell open. "You didn't, Fee. You didn't—". The younger Durin pursed his lips, attempting to calm the tears that threatened to fall.

"We did, for our father". Kili only managed a nod, his head dipping to kiss the babe's forehead. Tauriel gladly took the bundle from her husband, allowing him to embrace his older brother. Kili shook whilst he wept into his brother's shoulder, a bright image of their father lingering in his mind.

"Your father would be beside himself", Dis sniffled with a chuckle. "But, most of all, I think he'd be humbled and proud to see his two sons right at this very moment". Both boys with tear stained cheeks smiled warmly at their mother, offering her a place in their embrace. She didn't refuse, allowing her two sons to envelop her into a tight embrace.

"We still miss him, Amad", Kili sighed, drying his face with his sleeve.

"He's still here, with all of us", Dis assured him. "Fili and (Y/n) have just given us something to remember him by".

"Reminders from other people ensure that those we lose are never gone from our hearts and minds", you spoke softly, offering your mother-in-law a smile. "We all learnt that from someone once". Dis returned your words with a tearful smile, whilst Thorin's eyes danced to his great-nephews Thrain and Frerin. An image of their forefathers came to his mind. Thrain, his own father and Frerin his younger brother. A soft smile splayed on the King's face, his crystalline gaze travelling the faces in the room. His family, all banded together, all present even in heart. Nothing could make the Mountain King happier.

___________________________________

Three years after your sons were born, Thorin abdicated his throne to his nephew and yourself. For the first time, there was a true Queen Under the Mountain by the new King's side. Fili had groomed you for the throne and you were still learning things with time, always taking half of his duties and sharing in the decision-making of the Kingdom. The people of Erebor had quickly adjusted to the concept of a Queen, welcoming you with open arms and hearts.

It had now been 35 years since you and Fili had assumed the throne of Erebor. 60 years since it had been reclaimed. Dragonsickness had not affected Fili as he'd feared it might have. The curse upon the Mountain and its throne was no more.

Balin had established a peaceful colony within Moria, abdicating his position as advisor; the position falling to Thorin. The former King of Erebor had remained at the throne's side, even now at 255 years of age. His hair had greyed, age now starting to appear on his seemingly still youthful face. He had surpassed the lifespan of a normal Dwarf, Bilbo also surpassing a Hobbit's normal lifespan, having written to you and Fili some months ago of his 111th Birthday and retirement to Rivendell. Your sons, Thorin III and Vili were now 38, both being groomed to be the heirs for the throne the way Fili and Kili had. Frerin and Thrain, older by 5 and 10 years, had become bodyguards to their cousins having been enlisted and trained by Dwalin himself. They would assume captaincy of the guard when the time was right.

"Amad, Adad!", Vili's familiar caramel mane ascended the steps of the throne room, trailed by his cousin Thrain. Vili had come to resemble Thorin II's younger brother, Frerin. However, his eyes were your own (e/c) ones and he had a strong beard, braided into a similar style to his father's.

"Vili", you both smiled mirthfully at your son's approach.

"What news do you bring, Dear One?", his great Uncle asked from his position by the throne.

"We have a guest", Thrain informed you with a spirit alike to his father's.

"Thorin is just bringing him in. Frerin is not long behind", Vili added with his father's trademark grin. It was something his older brother also shared with him.

"Very good", Fili acknowledged both boys, inclining his head in gratitude. Vili took to standing by your side, laying an affectionate palm on your shoulder when the welcomed guest finally ascended the stairwell. Both the former King and Fili lit up with familiarity as a man cloaked in white filed in, your son Thorin III and Frerin behind him. Alike to Kili, both boys had a lack of beard on their faces, lately blooming. They only had sandy blonde and auburn stubble, resembling Thorin II and Kili in their facial complexions. Your firstborn son had inherited the Durin crystalline gaze, reminding you of your husband almost completely, but both sons had the merriment and roundness of a Hobbit. The feet were still questionable.

Gandalf stood, mirth shimmering in his gaze at both your husband, yourself and Thorin. "Long has it been since I have seen you, Thorin son of Thrain and Fili son of Vili". His head dipped in a bow out of respect.

"Welcome back, Dear Friend", Fili grinned at your side. "You needn't bow to us". Warmly, Gandalf smiled at you both.

"I bid good tidings to the King and Queen of Erebor in these dark times. I have come not to reminisce, but to ask help of my old friends". Fili's gaze met your own, brows knitted in concern. You both had predicted these dark times, given that a quest to destroy the ring had begun many months ago. Gimli son of Gloin was among that fellowship.

"Anything", you encouraged the wizard with a nod, gratitude shining in his face.

"The enemy is marching upon Gondor. Sauron intends to destroy the world of men first. If nothing is done, I feel the freedom of this world will fall. Erebor, Rivendell, The Shire–". Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of your homeland. "–No one is safe".

"You ask our aid?", the former King spoke up from beside Fili.

"I do", the White Wizard sighed. "Rohan is marching to Pelennor Fields as we speak. They have only 6000 capable men and women. Not nearly enough to combat an army of 10,000 or more. We have Isildur's heir rallying the traitors within Gondor's mountains. I have risked much in coming here already. I need surity. Will you fight for the freedom of Middle-Earth?". The eyes in the room fell to you both. Fili shared a knowing look with you. The golden thread that tied your hearts was still burning strong to this day. Your husband would not make this decision without you. Nodding to each other, you both stood from your thrones.

"We will fight", Fili grinned, his eyes ablaze with a primal warrior's excitement.

"We were waiting for you to say that", Kili piped up, filing into the room with his wife beside him. The various members of the old company were also with him. Bofur, Bifur, Bombur. Nori and Dori. Dwalin as well. "Gandalf put on quite a show, rallying us the way he did". The wizard in turn, tried to seem innocent. You laughed,

"You knew we would say yes".

"I hadn't had a doubt in my mind, My Lady", he responded, an amused smile lighting up his features.

"And all of you intend to go to war?", Fili gaped, his brows raised in surprise.

"For our brother Ori", Dori huffed. "He would". Nori nodded in agreement, offering his brother a smile.

"My old bones still have some power left in 'em", Dwalin grunted, lifting his axe with no difficulty. He too offered something of a primal grin.

"Y' need only ask and we'll follow ye", Bofur added, inclining his head to his King.

"All of us", Thorin spoke up, stepping next to his nephew with a nod.

"Me as well". Fili turned to you, shockingly paler. You caressed his face, squeezing his hand. "With you in life and in death, remember?", you quoted your wedding vows. His eyes seemed to soften, a sigh leaving him.

"The people need their Queen—".

"And you need me".

"Y' won't get anywhere with her", Dwalin laughed. "And she's right". Fili passed half a glare to the older Dwarf.

"Will you not stay?", Fili murmured, worry clouding his shining gaze. Your head shook, your gaze falling upon your firstborn. His resemblance to Fili, Kili and Thorin was uncanny. Your son realized what you'd intended to say.

"Amad—".

"You can stay. Stay here with your brother and your cousins", you told him. The Durin glare had been inherited by him without any doubt, his brows furrowing deeply.

"I want to fight!", Thorin protested.

"Us as well", Vili added, both Frerin and Thrain nodding.

"I will not risk my line falling", Fili interluded. "You will all stay and defend our people here whilst your mother and I go".

"What if you don't come back?", Thorin snapped. "What then?". You saw your son's blue orbs glass over, your steps taking you to where he stood beside Gandalf.

"You worry too much, Sweetheart", you hushed him, cradling his face. "We have survived worse. Your father and Great Uncle certainly have".

"I'm just scared I won't see you again. I want to fight and prove myself, Amad—", Thorin choked, his head dipping in shame.

"Your time will come, Thorin. And you will understand when it is your time to be King", Fili sighed, lending a soft pat to his son's shoulder.

"You are much t' young ta be fighting in wars, Laddie. You will have your share of bloodshed when the time comes", Dwalin sought to console him.

"You will be in charge. You and Vili know what to do", you whispered, him nodding in return.

"We will protect them as we've always done", Frerin smiled his father's signature smile. "To that oath, I still hold".

"Aye. I do as well", Thrain added, laying a hand on the hilt of his daggers for emphasis.

"Go and all will be well here", Vili smiled on approach. "I promise". Your arms opened, welcoming Vili to the embrace you shared with his brother and father, laying a soft kiss all of their foreheads. Fili smiled, relishing in your soft touch even after all this time.

"We love you, boys", you cooed.

"We love you both too", Thorin sniffled, gripping onto his father affectionately.

"We're coming home, we swear by it", Fili murmured.

"You better", Vili threatened almost playfully. You broke apart, turning to your husband.

"Together?".

"Always", you answered.

"Like you had to even ask", Kili grinned, squeezing Tauriel's delicate hand.

"Would you all do me this honour in following me?", Fili asked.

"Yes", his Uncle answered, wrapping his arm around his firstborn nephew. "I would follow you both to my death. And I am undeniably proud of the both of you in all you have accomplished together".

"As am I", Dis proclaimed, entering the throne room, commanding respect with her presence alone. Thorin grinned at his younger sister whilst she approached all of you. "I will never cease being proud of you, my sons. And my daughters too". She spared a glance for you and Tauriel fondly. "As I will never stop worrying that you five and the others will not be coming home. I nearly lost you once, Thorin. And my sons", Dis sighed, grabbing her older brother's strong arm. "Ride to war, but by Mahal, if any of you don't return–". When everyone laughed lightheartedly at the threat similar to Vili's, her own face broke into a smile. Her eyes, alike to Fili's, were glinted with affection and worry. Thorin squeezed his sister's arm to console her; his eyes conveying a silent, gentle message of assurance. Dis conceded with her own silence, nodding before pressing a kiss to her brother's forehead.

"Now, let us ride to war". Thorin"s gaze affectionately crossed to the both of you, warming your soul. With newfound confidence, Fili turned to you for the orders.

"Kili, Dwalin. Get our soldiers ready for battle and any capable warriors in our city who wish to take up arms".

"As you wish, My Lady". Kili bowed to you with an excited smile, Dwalin letting out a roar of excitement.

Gandalf smiled. "We will await your arrival".

Every man and woman who could spare arms came along. Erebor's force was 3000 people, combined with the 1200 people from Dale and the Lake City who wished to fight as well. Thorin and his brother Vili remained behind as ordered with their cousins. Having been trained by Fili for combat in the many years you were married, you had full confidence stepping onto the battlefield. Not once, but twice.

Pelennor Fields was a devastating battle, won by brute force and numbers. If it weren't for the army of the dead, raised by Isuldur's heir, the battle perhaps would have been for naught. Your kin remained strong and hardy, mourning over the deaths of both Dwarves and men. Many soldiers of Rohan, Gondor and Erebor were injured. The King of Rohan had perished, his brave niece barely surviving. It was a battle hard won.

The battle of the Black Gate was no different.

Whatever was left of your combined armies, inclusive of the Hobbits you fondly discovered to be Merry and Pippin, marched upon the Dark Lands. Such an act by Men and Dwarves would go down into legends; a great battle of Kings.

With the battle raging on to keep the Dark Lord's eye from the Ringbearer, Frodo Baggins had finally managed to accomplish his goal, ending Sauron before he could ever truly return.

Doing a headcount, you were relieved to find your kin, your husband still alive after it all ended.

"We did it. Frodo did it", Fili huffed in exhaustion, Orc blood covering his face and body, dirt sticking to his sweat. Your lips pressed to his own, a sigh leaving your nostrils whilst your lips worked against his.

"Men lananubukhs menu", you uttered against his lips.

"I love you too", he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Are you both alright?", Thorin called to you. Breaking from your husband's embrace, you marched to his Uncle. With no hesitation, you took the former King in your arms, burying your head into his matted shoulder. Fili grinned, relieved to see his Uncle alive. Thorin returned the embrace, nuzzling his head into your shoulder in return.

"We're fine", you breathed.

"You both fought well. Kili, Tauriel, the Company. We survived. Together".

"I'm glad", you sighed in relief, a smile splaying on your features.

"Excellent news", Fili laughed, leaving to begin his search for his younger brother in the crowd. You remained embraced with your father figure. Despite being middle-aged at your current 65 years, you still wanted his comfort.

"Are you alright?", he repeated, caressing your back.

"I'm fine", you assured him. "I'm just glad it's time to go home, back to Erebor". Thorin finally decided to slip from your arms, smiling at you with an elated proudness in his eyes. It radiated with such strength and affection that he had not the need to say he was proud. Instead, he wrapped a supportive arm over your shoulder, sighing wistfully with the wind,

"Yes, (Y/n). Let's go home".

The End. . .

___________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed the last instalment of "Excuses" !! If you wish to be in my taglist, check my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be included in!! Thank you all so much for your support in this miniseries!! ❤❤❤

Translation List;

- Mírë = "precious treasure", (Elvish)

- Men Gorach = "you stupid/idiot", (Khuzdul)

- Khîê = "My One", (Khuzdul)

- Amrâlimê = "My Love/Love of Mine", (Khuzdul)

___________________________________________

TAGLIST; @fizzyxcustard @lathalea

#thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield #platonic #fili x reader #fili durin #fili durin x reader #romantic #the hobbit #lord of the rings #the hobbit fanfiction #gif not mine #credit to creator #long fic

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jasmines-library · 6 months

Text

Poisoned heart

WHUMPTOBER DAY 7: Prompt: poisoned.

Fandom: The Hobbit

Summary: after being struck but a poisoned arrow from the Morgul bow, you suffer a fatal injury. Will you get help in time?

Warnings: Blood, Poisoned arrow, poison, sickness, pain.

Word count: 2.9K

Note: this follows the story line of Kili being shot in DoS. This can be read as platonic or romantic and can be seen as Kili x reader or Tauriel x reader, I’ve left it purposely ambiguous for you to decide.

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

“No! No!”

There was an uproar when the gates slammed shut, sending the barrels hurtling into the metal, bobbing up and down in the cold, white water. You could hear the rattling of Thorin’s hands gripping the gate and shaking it so hard that his knuckles turned white. The guard drew his sword, readying it before him only to collapse seconds later: plunging over the lip of the bridge and into the water propelled forwards by an arrow which the roaring orc had lodged deep within his back. He landed with a large splash, displacing the water around him.

“Look out!”

You watched in horror as more orcs began propelling themselves over the wall on the other side of the bridge, helpless as your little barrel bobbed along in the river. They barged through, slicing at the armoured guards. Roaring as they attacked, sending a myriad of bodies into the barrels below. Some orcs, some not.

One orc had managed to grasp onto the barrels, after launching itself into the water, leaping on top of Fili, who’s eyes widened in fear. Bilbo heaved himself up, gripping tight onto the barrel before plunging the glowing blue blade into the orc’s chest. It collapsed back into the water.

You watched, shell shocked as your friends fought the creatures ahead of you. Your barrel had just thudded into Kili’s before you. You had been one of the last ones to jump in, trailing at the back of the group. From here, unsheltered by the bridge like the rest of the huddle of dwarves, you could see the rest of the fight unfurl. You could see the orcs catapulting themselves over the walls. You could see that there would be no escape unless you got that door back open.

Honing in on the wooden lever, you clambered out of the barrel. Jumping across the others until your feet landed on the stone steps.

“Y/N?!” Kili called after you, but your response was cut short by another orc which swung at you. You delivered a firm kick to set it off balance before stabbing and twisting with your shortsword.

You hadn’t realised how many there were until you had begun to push your way up the steps. There were orcs flooding in from every direction; billowing down the hills and taking out the elves, flailing in the water, surrounding you.

You were already battling one orc, using your sword to block its attack, when another leaped at you from behind, its teeth bared and weapon lethal. Fili, who had been alerted to your stunt by his brother, flung his weapon at the orc just as you swung, decapitating the one in front of you. They both collapsed to the floor with an ugly ‘thud’.

The lever was just in front of you now. Just a few feet more and then you would be free. You rushed forwards, ducking as another orc soared onto the wall above you, but fueled by adrenaline, you took him down with one well placed jab.

The lever was steps away now, within an arm's reach. You could see the delicate lines etched within the wood. What you didn’t see however, was the scar faced orc chieftain, who had notched and released an arrow from his shiny bow. It lodged itself in your thigh, just short of your knee.

Stopping abruptly, you gasped against the sudden pain, your knee buckling beneath you.

“Y/N?!” Fili cried hoarsely, as his eyes flew open in terror.

Grunting, you leaned forwards, gripping onto the wooden lever and trying to force it down, but your fingers were clammy and your vision swam with pain. You collapsed to the ground, writhing as you clutched the wound - the arrow still embedded in your leg. Time seemed to slow as you lay there, helpless once again to the orcs that had begun to file over the stone wall once again. You forced yourself up on your shaky arms, trying to scoot yourself away from the danger. Then, there was a loud ‘thwip’ as another arrow sailed through the air. You flinched, preparing yourself for a blow that was never to come. This arrow settled itself between the shoulder blade of your offending orc.

Turning your head, your gaze settled on Tauriel emerging from the woods, weapon poised, auburn hair billowing around her. She danced forwards, notching and drawing, taking out the orcs quickly and with what seemed much ease. Other elves emerged too, drawing the orcs away from you and the gate.

Using this to your advantage, you heaved yourself back up. Jumping you wrapped your arms and legs around the heavy lever. At first, nothing happened, then it shifted and you could hear the rattling of the chains as they peeled the gates open slowly, releasing the crowd of dwarf-filled wine barrels then sending them over the edge of the waterfall. Your grip slipped again and you landed flat on your back, crying out in discomfort as the arrow shifted. Black dots danced in your eyeline.

You rolled onto your side, watching as the barrels were swept away, funnelling through the gap.

“Y/N?” Kili called out to you, watching you anxiously from below. His stomach knotted when he spotted the arrow.

Heaving your legs over the side of the wall and fighting through the wave of nausea, you gave yourself one final push. Your body plunged off of the bridge, landing in your empty barrel. You didn’t manage to contain your scream as the end of the arrow caught on the rim of the barrel, ripping upwards before snapping in half. All eyes snapped towards you, including Tauriel whom you had never seen look more concerned. You slumped against the barrel, your vision doubling and wound throbbing.

Another weak cry slipped from your lips as you were tossed about in the barrel as it went hurtling over the edge. The cold water spilled into the barrel as it twisted and turned inside the rapids. You were amazed it had managed to keep afloat. Your hand kept a futile grip on the rim as you whimpered each time your body shifted, sending agony throughout your body. Ahead of you, despite the motion of the water, Thorin stood, craning his head to try and see you within the carnage. Orcs chased after you, scrambling along trees and along the river banks. Some toppled into the water, shot down by the elves.

It seemed like an eternity before the rapids smoothed out and the little barrels were left bobbing along with the current. Thorin was using a mossy stick which he had acquired along the way to propel himself forwards. Most of the other dwarves had resorted to using their hands to wade along.

At some point, Bilbo had attached himself to your barrel. You weren’t sure when, your head was too hazy and everything had passed by in a blur, but you suspected it was when he saw you struggling to lean forwards in your little wooden raft. You were unsure how he was seemingly uninjured, despite the perilous rapids, but he tugged you along none the less. Somewhere around you Kili and Fili lingered. You had heard the brunette call out to you a few times, paling at your slumped head.

“Anything behind us?” Thorin called out to those bringing up the rear.

“Not that I can see.” Someone called back.

Thorin Oakensheild nodded, paddling towards a large rock. “Make for the shore.”

“Aye.”

There was another raucous as the rest of the group manoeuvred their makeshift boats towards the rock. They hauled each other up and out of the rafts then helped them onto the safety of the shore. You forced yourself out of the barrel, sliding into the water. It flooded into your wound. You hissed in pain, before rising to your feet then making your way as steadily as you could onto the shore.

You didn’t make it far before the stabbing agony was back, tenfold and shooting down your leg. With a grunt, you dropped to your knees, clutching the wound. You inhaled sharply, swallowing thickly the bile that had risen in your throat. There were hands on you in seconds as the two brothers dropped to your side.

“Y/N?” Kili looked at you, panicked. Fili’s hands did what his brother's mind was thinking, but his body wouldn’t allow him to do; press down firmly on the wound.

You cried out again at the pressure and the digging in of the piece of arrow that was still in your thigh. It sent another wave of nausea through you. Your mind screamed at you that something wasn’t right.

“Im fine.” You brushed him off, trying to push his hands away but to no avail, they were stuck down firmly, quickly being coaxed in your blood. “It’s nothing.”

“Kid,” Fili reprimanded, “This isn’t nothing.”

“I’m fine.” You repeated again through gritted teeth.

Kili was frozen, watching the way your face twitched every time your leg lit up with pain.

“We need to get the rest of the arrow out.”

You nodded. Squeezing Kilis hand, which had found it’s way into yours tightly. His brother dug his fingers into your leg to fish out the shards of the arrow. You gritted out a muffled cry, barely able to contain the vocalisation of your pain. Once it was free, you sagged against the dark haired man. You felt sick. You felt your stomach churn in pain, you felt the bile rise again in the back of your throat as you heaved rapidly. Something wasn't right.

“On your feet.” Thorin barked, scanning the area. He hesitated at his nephew's reply.

“Y/N is wounded. Her leg needs binding.” Fili stated.

Kili tore away part of his damp shirt, handing it to his brother who made quick work of beginning to bandage your gaping wound.

“There’s an orc pack on our tail. We need to keep moving.”

“To where?” Balin furrowed his wispy brow.

“To the mountain.” Bilbo implored. “We’re so close.”

“A lake stands between us and that mountain. We have no way to cross it.”

Bilbo thought for a moment. “So we’ll go around it.”

That was when the figure appeared.

~~~

You had gotten worse, feverish. Your legs barely functioned as you leaned up heavily against Kili. His arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, helping to keep you upright as they moved swiftly through-out lake town after being smuggled in by Bard.

As time moved forwards, the company had begun to notice that this was no ordinary arrow. That this was not an infection. No, your body was too hot, your skin shades too pale and devoid of all of the life it usually held. Other than favouring your left side, you were hunched awkwardly as though you had forgotten to stand. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on your forehead as you head lulled against the man who was half carrying you through the streets with his brother. You were bleary eyes and too much pain. Something wasn’t right.

Despite being feverishly warm, your body wracked itself with violent shivers. You had dried your hardest to hold in your yells of discomfort, but then your legs gave way completely and you crumpled with a howl of agony and a whimper, causing the two dwarves to stumble in their tracks.

“Y/N?”

You were laid down on the ground as soon as they had found somewhere safe to do so. You didn’t respond, only whined as your whole body was consumed with raw pain. There was a pat on your cheek as your head lolled on the damp ground. Kili cursed under his breath, unwrapped the blood soaked scraps and peeled back the fabric of your trousers. His sharp intake of breath was nearly on par with your ragged wheezes.

The wound was still bleeding freely, although it had slowed slightly due to being bound. That wasn’t what had shocked the man though. What had were the dark, angry tendrils that seeped across your skin from the wound.

“Oh my…Y/N?” Kili cradled your head in his hands.

You could only bring yourself to choke up one pain wrapped word. “Hurts-“

“She’s been poisoned.” His brother muttered. He tore off a part of his shirt to rewrap the wound with.

“Please… make it stop.”

Tauriel had come rushing into the village, blonde counterpart in tow. After capturing and interrogating an orc, she had rushed to find you. She couldn’t let you slip away. The elven woman would never have forgotten the way she felt her heart constrict at the mention that you had been shot with a Morgul arrow. The poison was fatal as it worked its way mercilessly through your body, shutting it down. At first, she refused to believe it, but the elf had seen it with her own eyes. She had heard the way you cried out, seen the way you scrunched up your face in agony. She couldn’t let that be her last memory of you. She wanted to remember the way you smiled with your eyes, or the soft lilt of your voice. So, she had raced to find you.

It wasn’t hard to follow your tracks. She had found the barrels at the bottom of the waterfall then seen the blood that laced the rocks. Her chest constricted as she pushed on. Dwarves were not light-footed people, so it was easy to distinguish the way the company had travelled. She noted the closeness of three sets which later dwindled into two and a pair of drag marks. Her issue began when the footsteps entered the town.

Though it didn’t take her long to find you within the village. She would be able to pick your voice out from within any crowd. Though this time she grimaced. It was your cries of agony that she could hear. You were buried within the house furthest from the village. She didn’t take any courtesies when she flung the door open, only to be greeted with the pointy end of a silver sword. Of course you were not alone. Whilst the majority of the group had headed off into the mountains, you had been left sidelined. A few other dwarves along with Kili and Fili had remained by your side; the latter of whom was directing his weapon towards the elf.

When she took a step back, and raised her bag filled with an assortment of herbs. “Please… I’m here to help.”

With a sharp nod, he removed the blade and let the woman into the room. Here, your cries were louder, despite how much you tried to hold them in. The Morgul poison was taking control of your body, drowning you in a pain clad state. The dwarves moved simultaneously to place you on the table. You writhed in their grip, clutching your chest.

Tauriel rummaged around in her bag, pulling out handfuls of herbs and mixing them together.

“Hold her down.” She said, as she moved towards you with a bowlful of herbs.

The four dwarves had to use a surprising amount of force to try and keep your legs still as you twisted and contorted in pain, crying out fatefully.

Kili, who was near your head, had to clench his jaw when he made eye contact with the elf. She had stilled at the sight of your wound, angry and festering.

You were consumed by a blinding pain when the brunette began to chant, pressing and rubbing the herbs into your wound. Your back arched as your stiffened, screaming.

Then suddenly it all stopped, as your body began to go numb. Your blood curdling screams morphed to soft whimpers. Fili glanced anxiously at his brother. Time seemed to slow again as you watched the woman work, tender but with haste. Then, Kili, still clutching your chest, watched as your breathing slowed and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You weren’t even aware you had passed out until your eyes fluttered back open. Someone was fastening another bandage around your leg, and another was holding your hand softly. The remaining dwarves eyed cautiously from around the room. You squinted.

“Tauriel?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Lie still.” She told you.

“You cannot be her…” you muttered in a pained daze, gazing up blankly at the ceiling. “She is far away. She- she walks in starlight in another world. You’re just a dream…”

Your head rolled to the side, gazing upon Kili, who rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of your palm. He remembered the day the two of you first met her. She had saved his life. He had watched the way the two of you instantly clicked and the way that life had kept you apart.

Your fingers reached out, unexpectedly brushing hers. She took it and squeezed it gently. A smile made its way onto your face and you sighed contently happy two have your two favourite people by your side.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY SIX ⛤ DAY EIGHT ->

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 27 days

Text

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 21

RAAAAHHHHHHHH WE'RE BACK AND ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT AND I CAN FINALLY MOVE ONTO PART 3. The Easter holidays have just started for me so I now have three full weeks to put into the last chapter. This one could be classed as a filler chapter but there's a lot they gain that links to the future so stuff doesn't just appear 'for the plot' - the girls need their hardcore character development before the journey. Enjoy! <3

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 8527

Warnings: Nothing I can think of.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 20 // Chapter 21 // Chapter 22 >

Part 2: Chapter 21 -

Interesting Concept. Poor Execution.

Brontide (Definition): The low rumble of distant thunder. (Noun / Origin: Greek /ˈbrän‧ˌtīd)

Bag End, Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. Monday, 27th March 2940 of the Third Age (Monday, 5th Astron, 1340 in Shire-reckoning)

4 MONTHS LATER

“I’m so happy you allowed me to accompany you three! It’s not every day I’m able to spare time for trip like this.” Gladiola smiled gratefully at the three of us.

After begging Bilbo to let us travel to Bree for a good month, he finally let up, but only agreed if we went in the spring, strongly insisting we wouldn’t survive the night if we had travelled in the deep winter.

“Bree is a hundred and thirty-five mile trip, meaning it would take a minimum of four days to get there. Meaning that we would have to camp in the freezing cold, because the only proper shelters are at least three detours from the path!”

We had instantly agreed, when we had realised the actual distance, deciding to wait until late March when the weather would be warmer.

Aa couple days before we left, Mrs Greenfoot had walked in on us packing when she was dropping off some spare socks she had knitted. After telling her where we were going, she instantly pleaded to let her go with us, saying how she heard Bree had some fabrics that she was dying to get her hands on, and how her husband was going to be at home full time for the next two weeks, so it would be a perfect opportunity for her to go. We said yes after persuading a reluctant Bilbo, and she shot off to pack, which led to now – on our fourth day of walking.

“Oh I really do hope the markets have what I want. I promised Menegilda I would make her a new dress for her birthday.” Gladiola rambled on as she took in the fields and forests ahead of us, her pace picking up with eagerness.

“I’m sure they will.” Replied Kay, grimacing at the feeling of her aching legs. “It’ll ruin the reputation they’ve built of they don’t.”

“Hopefully.” She sighed. “What are you all hoping of finding?”

“Every dangerous object under the sun apparently.” Bilbo spoke up before us. Stuffing his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it over.

Taking it, Gladiola quickly scanned the list, her face morphing into surprise and shock at the same time. “Swords?? Why would you need swords?” she queried, handing it back.

“To scare off half the town, in my opinion.” Bilbo grumbled, clearly not happy with the reason we had dragged him so far. “If I didn’t want to go for some of that wine they make, I would’ve said no on the spot.”

“Well, we would’ve gone ourselves if that was the case.” I jived back.

“We just want to know that we can protect ourselves if we ever decide to try and find our way home.” Kay explained.

Bilbo slowed his pace for a moment, as something seemed to dawn on him. “Oh.” He said quietly, a tiny quiver of dejection on his face. “Yes, home. I forgot about uh.. that.” Though he quickly shook that mood off, jogging slightly to catch up.

“Plus,” I added in an attempt to alleviate the mood. “we wouldn’t be looking to own one if we didn’t think it looked insanely cool.”

And with that Bilbo sighed, back to his usual exasperated mood.

The wall surrounding Bree stretched high above us as we neared the wooden gate, its intimidating nature emphasised by the two-storey stone turrets that flanked either side like a pair of unmovable sentries.

Gravel and dried mud crunching underfoot, we took the last few steps, before shuffling to a stop in front of one of the towering doors. Taking a couple steps forward, Bilbo reached up and gave the surface a few hard raps, before coming back to stand beside us.

A moment passed, and only the birds and the rustling of leaves from the nearby trees could be heard, when a muffled rattling sounded from behind the door. A small hatch near my eye level swung open, revealing the wrinkled face of a man, who, at the sight of us, morphed it into a sour scowl, a stark contrast compared to the warm sun that was beating down on our backs.

“Who’re you?” he barked, his croaky and adenoidal voice matching his unpleasant demeanour perfectly.

When neither me or Kay began to speak, Bilbo quickly piped up, stretching up on his toes to try and see the gatekeeper. “Um, hello?” he called out.

The gatekeeper, quickly stepped back and slammed the hatch shut, before a creak resounded from further down, opening another hatch that was the perfect level to speak with the hobbit, giving me a very strong sense of déjà vu.

The hobbit stepped forward towards the open hatch. “We’re here to stay at the Prancing Pony, for a week.” He explained politely. “To visit the market.”

“Oh?” croaked the gatekeeper with half a smirk. “And what are you here to buy, exactly?”

Bilbo didn’t hesitate to flap the list in front of the old man’s face. “Whatever we need.” He said sternly, before stuffing the paper back in his pocket. “I have visited before, you know.”

Looking between me and Kay, then at the hobbits, his eyes narrowed. “Two hobbits and a pair of human girls, together. That’s not something you see every day.” He muttered, reminding me a lot of a certain Hogwarts caretaker, and I half-expected to see a dupe of Mrs Norris jump out of nowhere. “Tell me, how do you know each other?”

“They’re his daughters!” A voice called out, and the three of us spun around in surprise to face a nervous looking Mrs Greenfoot. “Adopted, of course. And I’m a family friend.” She added with a sheepish smile.

The gatekeeper took his time to eye us all up slowly, his bloodshot eyes scouring whatever he could. Seemingly unable to spot anything he counted as suspicious, he quickly disappeared again with a grumble, the hatch shutting with a snap. Seconds later there was a loud groan, and the door he used to speak through slowly began to open. When the gap was wide enough, the gatekeeper stepped out from behind it, revealing his mousy grey hair and tattered brown tunic and trousers. Raising a wrinkly hand, he impatiently beckoned us forward, quickly scouring the area outside as we stumbled in, before he pushed the gate shut.

Bilbo diligently led the way as we trekked down the main street, dragging Mrs Greenfoot to walk beside him.

“What in Yavanna’s name are you doing??” The two of us heard him cry in a whisper. “People are going to ask even more questions if we call them my daughters! How am I supposed to come up with a story about that???”

“Well go with the story you already have! Because it’s the one you’re going to have to run with for now, Mr Baggins.” She hissed back with a smirk.

Deciding to pointedly ignore the storm brewing in front of us, I turned to the view of the building in front of us. “Very Tudor-like.” I mentioned, admiring the dark beams that contrasted against the cream walls, along with the jettying of the upper floors that stuck out, and the metal grid panes that decorated the windows all around.

Kay hummed in agreement as she walked beside me, the both of us in awe of the once-fictional town that spanned across our view.

“It’s nice to see it not pouring with rain and caked in mud like the movies.” She whispered. I eagerly agreed, very happy about not having to fight my way through several inches of horse-trodden mud.

Grasping our skirts, we twisted between people and horse-drawn carriages, finally stopping in front of a relatively large building, the carved wooden sign hanging above us revealing itself to be the one and only Prancing Pony, and the two of us craned our necks to look up and admire the famous building Reaching an arm out, Mrs Greenfoot hauled the hefty wooden door open, and the four of us took our first steps into the inn.

Approaching the bar near the door, I watched Bilbo wipe the thunderous look on his face, turning away from where he was scowling at Gladiola to face the bartender approaching us.

“Good afternoon!” The man called, leaning his round body over the counter to take us all in with a hearty smile. “The name’s Mr Butterbur, but you lot can call me Barney. What can I do for the four of you?”

“Two rooms, if you please.” Answered Bilbo, reaching into his pocket for the right amount of coins. “Preferably split one and three.”

“Ah, you got lucky!” said Mr Butterbur, sticking his hand under the counter to bring out two keys. “You came at the right time – travelling’s picking up again now that winter’s over.” He handed the keys to Bilbo. “Rooms 5 and 6. Say, will you lot be coming down for dinner? I have a feeling it’ll be quiet this evening and we’re serving roast beef and potatoes.”

“Yes, that’ll be lovely.” Replied Gladiola with a warm smile.

Thanking the bartender once again, we set off, crossing the sparsely populated room of tables, considering it was only late afternoon, and up the narrow, creaking stairs on the other side. It didn’t take long to walk down the upper hallway to find the matching rooms, Bilbo handing us our key before he unlocked the door of his own room, insisting the separation was basic courtesy.

Evening came round quickly, our time spent downstairs in the tavern. Bilbo, Kay and Gladiola were currently sat at a table by one of the windows, and I was up by the bar, sipping a steaming tankard of tea on a rickety stool as I waited for Mr Butterbur to refill Bilbo’s wine.

“Say, I don’t suppose you know a place that could sell weapons?” I asked.

He was quiet for a moment, only raising a bushy brow as he peered down at me. Slowly, he set the refilled cup of wine down, before taking a rag out to wipe the surface. “Depends, what kind of weapons are you looking for?” he said lowly.

“Oh, nothing too dramatic.” I waved dismissably. “My friend and I are looking to venture out by ourselves at some point, you see. And we’re looking for something that’s durable and efficient, but easy to get used to, that beginners can handle.”

He seemed to lighten up again, throwing the cloth down as he braced both of his arms on the bar, eyes darting around in thought.

“Are you sure you two want to do that?” he asked with a stern but gentle look. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard the Shire is one of the safest places you can live, the world outside? Not so much. Besides, you wouldn’t want to leave your dad alone, now would you?”

I blinked. “My – ?” I spun on my chair, looking at our table when my eyes made contact with Bilbo’s, who already seemed to be staring over with light concern on his face. “Oh! He’s no – yea, he’s uh, only been our.. ‘dad’ for a few months though.”

“Even more reason to stay!” Mr Butterbur said, reaching over to poke my shoulder slightly. “You don’t want to go breaking his poor heart right after he opened it up to let you both in!”

I turned back towards the bar, a solemn look falling upon my face as I stared at the tankard in my hands. “I know it’s just…” I heaved a long sigh. “I had a family,” My voice quavered as I looked up at him with wide eyes. “No, I have a family. I wasn’t brought here by choice, I –” I pressed my palms over my teary eyes as the events from the last six months hit me all at once. “I don’t know how we got here and I can’t get us back.” I cried.

“Hey, hey,” he murmured gently, laying a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know what the two of you have gone through, but it seems that you’re distressed about the sudden change and you don’t even realise it.”

Blinking through the blur of tears, I looked up at him. “I have a bit. Bilbo’s found me crying at night over it more than once, but I’ve been telling him it’s nightmares of the night he found us.”

“A bad night?” he asked, smiling gently under his moustache.

“Very.” I replied with a wobbly grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that terrified before.”

He looked me up and down concerned, eyeing the large pink scar on my hand as I stared at it. He went to open his mouth, when he was interrupted.

“Oi Barney!” A man called from one of the tables nearby. “Don’t suppose we could get another round of mead?”

“I’ll bring ‘em round in a minute!” he called back, before turning to me once more. “Well you two have certainly had an experience, from what I can put together. But,” he lowered his voice again. “coming from a stranger, the best thing you can do, until you can find a way to get back, is to just carry on, and keep your hobbit dad company. Or, you know, find him a spouse – depends on whether he’s the bachelor type or not.”

I choked on my drink at the last statement, looking over at the hobbit with a grin. “Well whoever manages to charm him is gonna need a very strong metaphorical hammer.” I laughed. “Cuz that hobbit has enough stubbornness and resilience to rival the walls of Helm’s Deep.”

Mr Butterbur let out sharp laugh, almost spilling the tankard of beer he was filling. “Helm’s Deep! Blimey, you two must’ve done something insane to persuade him to take you in.” He chortled as he began lining up mugs of mead. “Anyway, you were asking about weapons, and I know of a guy that has a stall in the market square, name it and he’ll probably sell it.”

I perked up at the new subject. “Okay, what area of the square?”

“North-east corner, the blacksmiths.” He replied. “Ask for a man named Seathan Marshsteel. Tall, burly guy with a long dark beard and wavy hair, normally tied in a bun or something. Could be mistaken for a dwarf if it weren’t for the fact he’s over six foot.” He described with a chortle. “He’ll know what to give you, but best you go in the early hours, so the good stuff doesn’t get snagged first.”

“That’s great, thank you so much!” I exclaimed, finally getting up from the stool. Turning to face him fully, I gave him the sincerest smile I could. “And thanks for the advice, too.”

He waved a large hand in dismissal. “Don’t mention it. I prefer conversations with the emotional sober, than the emotional drunk.”

Giving him a laugh and a wave, I returned to the table with Bilbo’s refilled drink and my own, relaying the information Mr Butterbur had given me to Kay. The rest of that evening was spent in that corner, eating roast beef, potatoes and vegetables along with the rest of the taverns patrons, before retiring to bed for the night, ready for the next morning.

The murmurs of people and trotting of hooves were yet to be heard when I woke the next morning, only the chirping of the early birds, the occasional pair of footsteps scuffling beneath our window along with the crackle and pops of the dying fire across the room could be made out as I blinked the sleep away from my eyes.

I laid there for a while, staring up at the ceiling cast in dark shadows by the glowing embers as Kay and Mrs Greenfoot slept on. It still felt a little strange not having my phone on the bedside table, the calm piano of my alarm floating through my ears. The battery died on the fourth night after arriving at Bilbo’s, and I had cried endlessly, reality setting in as a realised that the only potential way of contacting my family was gone, unless we found a way back. I was mostly terrified of not being able to see their faces, but managed to calm myself slightly when I went through my small collection of polaroids and found a couple family portraits. I had stored them in the envelope stuck on the back page of my grimoire, for safe keeping but also as a way of keeping them near me for good luck. Going back through the polaroids, another stroke of luck hit me as I had found a polaroid of Kay and her mum, along with her dog Barkley, that I had taken on one of her birthdays, the two of them smiling at their dining table next to a cake glowing with candles, and the large dog laid by their feet. I had slid it under her door that night, deciding to give her some time alone with it. She had come to breakfast that next morning not saying much, only quietly thanking me before settling into her meal.

Coming back to the present, I decided it was time for me to get up. I took my clothes to the bathroom, slipping on a set of light briefs and a vest top over my underwear, an extra layer to battle the early spring chill, then sliding on my shift and finally my pale green summer kirtle.

Kay and Gladiola had roused from their sleep by the time I was sat on my bed sliding my socks on. I gave them a quick ‘Good morning’, before lacing up my trusty modern walking boots, and walking out the door to go knock on Bilbo’s.

The hobbit was already up, calling through the door that he would meet us downstairs for breakfast. I returned to my room to wait for the other two, before taking the stairs down.

We got lucky that the tavern served an early breakfast, the four of us able to down the meal and get out the door when there was still only a few people wandering the streets. The sun hadn’t fully risen either, the rays only managing to shine through the gaps of buildings and alleyways, highlighted by the fading mist as the jettying upper floors kept parts of the street within the dark blue shadows of the early hours.

“– well I would like to see if they have any rolls of lace as well.” Chirped Gladiola, chattering away about the fabrics and lace she wants to try and find, and that if she got commissioned to create some more outfits with the new fabrics, she might be able to afford a new sewing desk. “I’ll be refusing any requests from your relative Lobelia, Mr Baggins. You know what she said the other day? Marched right up to poor Melba and asked her why she was wearing dishrags right in front of her friends!” she exclaimed.

“She did what?!?!” Kay shrieked in outrage.

“I know! I’m surprised you Bilbo haven’t done something to sever her from the family tree!” Gladiola said as she turned to him.

“Believe me, it’s the one thing I want.” He grumbled. “I’ve had far too many of my possessions vanish only to appear in her parlour.”

After listening to the two of them slag off Bilbo’s relative, we had finally arrived at the market. People were still sparse, only a few meandering the stalls whilst some sellers were still setting up shop.

Using the east-rising sun as a reference, Kay and I headed towards the north-east corner, with Bilbo hot on our heels. We waved goodbye to Gladiola, who ventured off with her coin purse towards the colourful fabric stalls on the other side. Walking up the path past stalls selling everything from arrays of meat to bed linens, the smells of metallic blood, spices and cloth filled our senses as our eyes set on a grey canopy propped up by wooden posts attached to a building with a blacksmiths sign hanging from it. Underneath was a counter that was part of the wall, the stall actually being part of the building itself. Approaching the counter, we peered into the shop. Weapons of all kinds lined the walls, even more hung on the racks stuck in the middle of the room like aisles, or on the ceiling like stalactites. The fire in the corner was burning bright, along with the torches lining the walls, filling our nostrils with the strong smell of smoke and the warmth of hot steel, so we figured someone was in.

Kay leant over the counter to try and look around, before calling out.

“Hello?”

A bang resonated through the air, followed by a string of hissed curses. It wasn’t long until a figure appeared hunched from behind one of the tables, clutching and rubbing to back of his head as he muttered under his breath. He gave it one last rub, before standing straight and stretching his back. Placing down the small hammer in his hand, he turned to face us with a frown, though it quickly turned to one of slight surprise. He matched the description Mr Butterbur had given me: Quite tall, about 6’3, well built and muscular, with thick wavy almost black hair, half tied up in a loose bun, with a beard reaching halfway down his chest. He was wearing a pair of loose trousers tied with a thick belt and a baggy tunic rolled up at the sleeves, and covered in patches of soot and grime, his time in the forge on clear display.

Eyeing us up and down, he took his time wandering over, using a cloth to wipe his calloused hands down whilst his face held an expression of poorly concealed confusion. The look increased tenfold as Bilbo peeked over the edge, resting his forearms on the wooden surface to prop himself up. Reaching us, he plopped the rag down, bracing his arms on the counter as his pale blue eyes took the three of us in.

“Can I… help you?” he queried, an accent similar to an Irish one strong on his tongue as he squinted at us, looking as if he couldn’t wrap his head around what was in front of him. I tried not to cough when the smell of smoke increased tenfold, rolling off him in waves.

Nodding, I slapped the list I had taken from Bilbo earlier on the counter. “Yes,” I affirmed eagerly. “We were hoping if you had anything on the list in stock.”

Taking a moment to look between me and the piece of paper, he slowly reached out, pulling the list towards him and picking it up, before grasping the spectacles that hung from his neck by some string, and sliding them on.

He spent about twenty seconds flitting his eyes between us and the list, covering it in black fingerprints until he lowered it a looked down at us over his glasses.

“You three aren’t from around here, are you?” he remarked, his deep, throaty voice resonating through the chill, morning air. “I don’t advertise outside the town unless I speak to you personally, so who told you about me?”

Slightly taken aback by the man’s cautious demeanour, I stepped in the explain. “Uh – we were recommended to visit you by Mr Butterbur?” I managed out, gesturing in the direction of the inn. “from the, uh, Pr-”

“- The Prancing Pony, I know. We’re well acquainted.” He said with a small smile though quickly returned to eyeing us up. “Tell me, what do two young girls and a hobbit want within the weapons trade. You don’t look experienced to me.”

“Which is exactly the problem.” I stated firmly. “We aren’t. And therefore we want to learn how.”

He slowly regarded the three of us with a look, and I prepared for the disappointment of his potential refusal. “Ok,” he sighed, tapping his soot-covered fingernails rhythmically on the wood. “How long are you here for?”

At our silent confusion, he raised a brow expectantly.

“Uh?” Kay vocalised, her eyes dazed in confusion. “A week? We’ve got six days left.”

“And why?” I added. “Do you need time to make them?”

He shook his head. “No.” He stated, baffling us further. Sighing, he began explaining. “None of you look like you’ve seen combat during any day of your lives, so, my proposal is in exchange for six days of dinners at the inn, I give you six days’ worth of basic training.”

Surprised, I slowly turned towards Kay, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. She eyed me back, and grins began to slowly grow on our faces. We turned to confirm the deal, when the hobbit I had forgotten was between us spoke up.

“H-hold on!” he cried, pointing a finger to emphasise his point. “You don’t know any of us. How do we know we can trust what you’re saying?”

Seathan rested on his elbows so he could lean over the counter to face the grumpy hobbit. “Do you trust Mr Butterbur?”

“Mr-” Bilbo sputtered. “We barely had one conversation with him!”

“He did seem nice though.” Kay butted in, and Bilbo whipped his head at her in outrage.

“And it’s a fair deal.” I added, watching in amusement as Bilbo comically flips his head between us, shock evident on his face. “I’ll make you Victoria cakes weekly in return.” I quickly added.

Grumbling under his breath, he eventually gave in. “Fine, they,” he emphasised, pointing to the both of us. “trust the bartender.”

“Then you can trust me.” Seathan replied warmly with a deep rumble of a laugh. “You won’t learn quickly on your own – so meet me outside the inn at 7 o'clock each morning and I’ll give you a rundown of everything. We’ll have breaks at lunch, and finish in time for dinner.”

“Woah, are you sure?” Kay held up a hand to slow him down, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you offering this to us so quickly? We’ve only just met you.”

Seathan pushed himself up from his elbows with a grunt, towering over us as he stood to his full height. “My daughters.” He revealed bluntly. “My wife’s not big on me sharing this but they asked the same thing you did. I said no, and they were injured in a small goblin ambush during one of our travels.” A sombre look fell over his eyes. “They have since recovered, but that guilt has weighed on me ever since, therefore I’ve wanted to offer training to girls and women when they’ve been given no opportunity to do so before.”

Kay nodded slowly, happy with the explanation. “I’m sorry to hear that – I’m glad they’re ok now. So we’ll meet you tomorrow?”

“Come round sometime after luncheon today if you can.” Seathan requested. “The sooner I can get swords in your hands the better.”

Thanking him, we wandered back into the depths of the market, it’s scents dominating our senses once again as we scanned for our other hobbit companion.

---

That morning whizzed by as fast as we would allow it, our nervous excitement for the afternoon sending a slightly uncomfortable buzz through our stomachs, the thought of what was to come prominent on our minds as we scarfed our ham and lettuce sandwiches down. We had changed outfits as well – I now sat in my cream blouse and baggy brown corduroy dungarees, and Kay in her black tank top with some loose, pale brown trousers that closely resembled cargos, and a knitted cardigan slung on top. Sure, it looked a little modern, but we hoped the earthy colours would keep people’s interest away

When we had finished, we wandered outside, only to find Seathan waiting beside the door, instead of where he said he would be by the blacksmiths. Pushing himself off the wall he slowly strode over, no longer donned in his apron, choosing to only remain in his slightly sooty shirt and dungarees.

“You girls ready?” he questioned as he pulled his curls back to tie them with a piece of cloth. Shifting a little, he looked behind us. “Where’s your hobbit friend?”

Still a bit hesitant about his forwardness, I gave him a simple reply. “He doesn’t want to come – said he had planned this week for relaxing and wine tasting.”

He gave a nod as he chuckled. “Fair enough.” He remarked, and beckoned us along as he began trapsing down the now bustling street, the two of us following not long after.

Leading us down a wide alley just before we hit the market, he led us through some of the residential housing, that slowly turned from the fusty smelling, overhanging town houses that were packed together like sardines, to detached cottages with front gardens lined with crudely woven branches to act as fences, goats, donkeys and the odd cat mulling about the small patches of crops in each one. The town was fully alive now, the sun passing midday as everyone got on with their jobs and chores, voices and shouting echoing from down each passage as we trekked past. We were thankful that the early spring weather had allowed the sun to dry out the large mud patches that would’ve otherwise sucked up our poor shoes, watching the solid cracks and chunks grow in size the closer we got to the more rural neighbourhoods.

Rounding one last cottage, we came face to face with the open countryside, the grass long and swaying in the gentle breeze, with the occasional oak tree sheltering a few livestock from the 12 o’clock sun. Climbing over a rickety fence, Seathan brought us to our destination. A large patch of grass had been shortened – about half the size of a football field, and somewhat recently if the loose grass piles and faint smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the usual stink of livestock said anything. Down one of the edges were several wooden posts that had been hammered into the ground, branches and planks nailed on to make them look like human dummies, covered in chips and gashes where they had been practiced on previously. Down another side were some makeshift archery targets; wooden circles cut from tree trunks with white and red paint hastily slapped on in rings.

Eyeing up the equipment, I blindly followed the sound of Seathan’s footsteps. When they stopped, I turned my head to face him, about to ask what was to happen, only to flail my arms out in an attempt to catch the wooden sword that was flung at my face. Managing to grab it at the very edge of the hilt, I darted my wide eyes to the towering man to watch him chuck another at Kay, who had watched my floundering and was prepared enough to catch it with ease.

Picking up a slightly larger wooden sword, he weighed and swung it around as he approached us. “Ok. We’re going to start out with some wooden swords.” He held up a hand as Kay opened her mouth. “And before you protest, I would much rather you get bruises from these rather than deal with a mutilated limb from an actual sharpened sword.”

Pouting, Kay snapped her jaw shut, and we both trailed after him into the centre of the field.

“Now,” he began, turning to us, signalling for us to place our swords down as he did the same. “I know you two won’t gain the arm strength for swinging swords overnight, so we’ll start with some footwork so you don’t twist the wrong way and fall on your own weapon.”

The next couple hours were spent with us practicing out foot spacing and placement, Seathan reaching down to twist our ankles slightly every once in a while, shouting which way to put our feet when spinning around to face potential enemies as we spun and twisted to each end of the field. It oddly felt like I was back in my ballet classes, learning how to walk on the tip of my toes for the very first time again.

Eventually we were able to pick up the swords, learning how to use our arms alongside our feet as we twisted and turned to block his mock attacks that got stronger and stronger each hour, the man insisting that defence was the first and most important thing to learn when it came to combat.

Sweat was running down both of our backs by the time Seathan had called it a day, the sun now nearing the treeline in the distance as the breeze began to cool the moisture on our skin, sending chills down our backs.

“Ughhhhh I feel so muckyyyy.” Kay groaned as she chucked her sword back in the makeshift chest under one of the nearby trees, holding her arms out in front of her as she tried to pick her cardigan up with the tips of her now mud-stained fingers.

“Tell me about it.” I grumbled, exhausted as I reached down to grab the half-filled water tankard, given to us by a lovely woman who had seen us being worked to death by Seathan, who had actually introduced herself as his aforementioned wife. When she had suspiciously asked what we had used to pay him, she had sighed knowingly when we revealed it was several dinners.

“He only asks for that because I don’t let him.” She had muttered amusedly to us as she refilled one of the animal troughs for us to wash our hands in. “He’d be down there every other night stuffing his face otherwise – says Barney’s steak is a god-send. I told him throwing up on customers after eating it all would have an enormous impact on his business’s reputation.”

After chatting to the friendly woman for a few minutes, we were soon ushered up by Seathan, who had hardly broken a sweat at all that day – ‘the pros of working with a kiln every day, you build a resilience to heat’ he had remarked proudly.

Trudging back through the now-calmer town, we wearily made our way back to the Prancing Pony.

---

“By Yavanna, look at the state of you two!!” Bilbo had cried when we walked in, the hobbit gawping at our less-than acceptable appearances. “Yuv’got – mud. Everywhere!” he sputtered, gesturing at our clothes. “Go change, now.”

Snorting at his antics, the two of us dashed up the stairs of the inn, disappearing before we could watch the seething hobbit turn on our slightly nervous teacher.

When we returned having changed into our original clothes from this morning, we joined the two hobbits and Seathan at the table, who we’re all currently waiting for us to arrive before eating the fresh plates of dinner placed in front of them. We sat down and began eating whilst Seathan was recounting what he had taught us as he scarfed down his well-earned meal.

“– yea, they’re getting the hang of it quite quickly!” he stated with a proud grin. “Could say we’ve got a couple of naturals on our hands.”

I smiled back. “I’m just glad we weren’t thrown under the bus straight away, otherwise I would’ve given up.” I joked, but my joking was immediately stopped at the feeling of my throat jamming up, and I clenched my teeth, digging my nails into my palm as I tried not to make it obvious.

Seathan paused, his fork halfway to his mouth as he glanced at me with a bewildered look. “What’s a bus?”

Staring at him, I remained silent waiting for the invisible hands to stop choking me, and he began frowning as he noticed my cheeks turn a slight pink. I flinched slightly as I felt Kay’s foot kick my shin, and my airway opened once again, and it took me a lot of strength to not heave on the spot. I quickly darted my eyes over to see Kay staring at me, silently staring at me as she realised what was going on. Facing the other three, who were looking at me with curious looks, I racked my brain for an excuse.

“Oh! It’s uh.. just a saying where we’re from.” I laughed nervously, still trying to hide my excessive breathing. “We have different names for transport there. Like, um, a carriage is, obviously, known as a carriage, ha ha, but we have nicknames for it, like bus, or.. or car for short?”

A few moments of silence of passed as they processed my rambling.

“Bus is a strange word to call a carriage.” Muttered Seathan, furrowing his brows. “But, if that’s what your lot have named it, then I won’t be one to judge.” He shrugged before returning to stuffing his mouth with potatoes. Bilbo and Gladiola were already back to eating, used to our strange words and sayings by this point.

I glanced at Kay, only to see her glaring at me with raised eyebrows. I narrowed my own back at her mockingly, raising my tankard of tea to my face. “It’s not my fault we’re stuck with medieval people.” I muttered from behind it.

All I got was mashed potato flicked at my forehead in return.

---

The following five days flew by, Seathan putting us through intense training that was far more gruelling than we thought. I mean, c’mon, doing ten laps around the field is a tad bit excessive, plus, arms wield swords, not legs.

I regrettably voiced those thoughts to our teacher, who then proceeded to have us do push-ups and lifting heavy tools he brought from his shop every hour, much to our frustration. He also asked if there was anything else we wanted to learn the basics in – I had said archery, after enjoying it a few times at festivals and residential trips with school or the girl-guiding groups I was in. Kay had excitedly said she wanted to learn throwing axes. And then proceeded the extra push-ups and benching, Seathan insisting that if we wanted to learn a practice that required a hell of a lot of arm strength, then it will have to be a daily task of exercise for as long as possible before we got to our full strength. I collapsed in protest at that.

By the time Monday rolled around, the two of us could barely pick up a fork to eat, and Gladiola fretted over us as she helped shovel food onto our forks, whilst Bilbo glared daggers over the table at an amused Seathan, muttering under his breath about the ways he was going to set the man’s giant beard on fire.

---

“Oh, you two are going to have to show me what you’ve learnt on the way back!” exclaimed Gladiola as she folded our belongings into our packs, due to our arms and legs still unfortunately incapacitated. “And make sure you give that man the biggest thank you for what he’s done – not just anyone is willing to give up their time for strangers.”

“Yes mum.” Was all Kay groaned, voice muffled from where she was face-planted on her pillow. Slowly rolling over with a prolonged whine, she faced to where I was splayed out like a starfish on the next bed over. “We’re gonna die before we even reach the evening.” She mumbled, face half scrunched by the pillow.

“Now don’t say that.” Lectured Gladiola, whipping Kay’s ankle with a sock as she pattered by with the copious amounts of fabrics and ribbons she had bought, only receiving a short grunt in response. “We’ve got a four-day travel ahead of us, and with that mood, I’ll be forcing you both to carry mine and Bilbo’s packs.”

Slowly pushing herself up, copper strands still stuck to her face, Kay swung her legs over the bed. “Fine.” She mumbled. “We’re up.”

“Good.” Gladiola replied with a smile. “We should have left ten minutes ago, so Kate if you don’t get up we’re leaving you behind.” She half joked as she hauled our packs out the doorway.

“Girlie, c’mon.” Added Kay as she shook my ankle.

Reluctantly, I pushed myself up the best I could, trying to ignore the agonising aches all over my body as I laced up my boots and followed the two out the door.

---

“Now remember, you have to do the exercises I’ve given you at least an hour every day, and memorise the tips I’ve given you for hitting enemy’s weak spots.” Seathan lectured, handing us two sheets of parchment. “I’ve written them down here, and I’ve also thrown in some blunt steel swords so you can upgrade when you both feel ready to.”

Accepting the objects gratefully, we pushed some coins into the man’s hands so he could reward himself with some extra meals, thanked him profusely as we stood by the entrance gate to Bree, trying our best to ignore the lingering stare of the gatekeeper as he peered suspiciously at us.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” said Seathan, marching hurriedly over to a long leather pack that was propped against the wall surrounding the town. Returning to us, he loosened the strings of the pack and pulled the contents out.

“Here’s a set of throwing axes for Kay, and a bow and arrows for you, Kate. I also threw in some polish, oil, and tools for sharpening the blades of the axes and arrows, along with replacement strings for the bow and whatnot.”

“What?!?!” we both said consecutively.

“We can’t accept that –” “It’s too much! – ”

“I paid for it.”

Freezing, the two of us slowly turned until we faced Bilbo, who stared back, before sighing.

“You two can’t be taught all that and expect to leave with hardly anything.” He explained almost nonchalantly, pulling out the crumpled list we had written. “You wouldn’t have gotten anything on your list.”

A beat passed, before I flew down and scooped him up into my arms.

“WHAT THE – ” he sputtered.

“Father.” I said. He froze.

“Father.” Kay repeated, reaching over to continuously pat the curls on his head.

He whipped his head between us with panicked eyes. “WH- I’M NOT YOUR DAD – PUT ME DOWN!”

“Told you he adopted them.” We heard Gladiola mutter to Seathan.

Eventually placing him down, the two of us knelt down to drag him into a hug, despite his grumbling.

“Thank you.” Kay whispered. “For everything.”

With a sigh, he settled, reaching up to wrap his arms around us both. “You’re welcome, but for the love of Yavanna don’t make me regret any of it.”

With matching cheshire grins, we assured him we wouldn’t, before clambering up excitedly to receive the pack of shiny new weapons from Seathan. And within a few minutes, we were waving a hearty farewell to the blacksmith, yelling our goodbyes and thanks until he disappeared behind the closing gate.

Walking through the trees, we chattered away endlessly about the events of the past week, failing to see the two pairs of glowing blue eyes, watching us from the treeline.

---

2 MONTHS LATER

A couple months had passed since we had arrived back in the Shire, and a lot had happened since then.

We had shown Gladiola the techniques we were taught during the evenings when we were on our return trip, and she had pleaded that we taught her kids, saying how they had always wanted to play knights when they were younger. A couple weeks in, Kay and I had stumbled across a clearing on the outskirts of Hobbiton, surrounded by trees and seasonal wildflowers with a scenic view of the town from where it was further up one of the hills. It was a perfect spot; close enough to Bag End where Bilbo could sit on the bench by his front door and watch us, but the trees made it private enough for us to set up targets to practice both our weapons training, along with our magic, without the risk of someone stumbling upon us.

The most exciting part, however, was meeting Bertin Grubb, who owned the pony stables across town. After seeing the lean muscle we had begun to develop on our arms from the training, he had offered us a job assisting him with caring for the ponies, figuring we were tall and strong enough to handle the animals when they were being stubborn. It took a while getting used to, having to bend down excessively to use the small hobbit-sized wheelbarrow, or the rake with a handle too short for two girls at least twice the height of the average hobbit. But he eventually managed to get us some suitable enough, and we thoroughly loved every second, excited to finally be able to pay Bilbo back for everything he had done, especially when doing a job as fun as ours.

Except for shovelling the horse crap.

It stank.

---

Bag End, Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. Friday, 5th May 2940 of the Third Age (Highday, 15th Thrimidge, 1340 in Shire-reckoning)

The sun was barely rising when Kay and I got up, readying ourselves for an early shift when we received a letter that Bertie had received two new animals and needed the extra hands earlier than normal.

Trudging down the path as the birds sang their morning song, we munched on the poached eggs buns Bilbo had shoved into our hands as we were about to step out the door, before he had promptly marched back to bed for a well-earned lie in.

Blinking away the sleep from my eyes, I mumbled a conversation with Kay as we walked between the hedges lining the path. Soon enough, we neared the stables, only to see a frantic looking Bertie, who seemed to be nervously waiting for us whilst tightly clutching his cap between his short fingers by the wooden archway leading in. When his wide brown eyes landed on us as we rounded the corner, he cried out in relief.

“Oh thank Yavanna you’re here!” he cried, jogging over to us. “A friend of mine found them wandering the outskirts looking all muddy and he begged me to take them cause they were eating his crops but they’re so large I don’t know what to do with them! I –”

“Woah, woah! Hey!” I raised my voice slightly to cut off his rambling. “What do you mean large? What are they?”

“Horses!” he wailed, dragging his hands down his face. “Giant! Horses!”

Kay perked up, trying to look through the archway. “Really? Can we see them?”

Bertie looked up at her with a sweaty forehead and hopeful eyes. “That’s the thing.” He laughed meekly. “I was hoping you two could take charge of them? I’m afraid I might get stepped on if I go near them again.”

Following Bertie into the stables, he led us to the end stalls, to where there were two of possibly the tallest horses I had ever seen in my life.

One was patterned like a cow, black and white patches covering it’s body, the other pitch black, with only small, pure white socks colouring the ends its fluffy hooves, and a singular white star-like stripe running down its head.

Feeling like one of those girls in those magical horse novels, I slowly approached the black one, its features resembling those of a Shire horse – fitting, considering where we were. Kay’s looked like a Clydesdale, and I watched from the corner of my eye as she neared it, wonder glinting in her eyes as she offered her hand. I followed with my own, looking up at the beast that towered over me, the top of my head barely reaching its snout despite my tall height, as it’s black eyes peered back down to meet my own dark brown ones.

“Now you know why I can’t look after them myself.” Bertie half-laughed, flitting his eyes between the two animals, keeping his distance from the two animals as he watched, scuffing his heel against the floor like he wanted to bolt. “They’re girls, so hopefully won’t be territorial or anything that could cause issues with the ponies.”

I snorted. “I’m pretty sure you’ve just given the ponies two empresses to worship – they’ll probably follow them around the pasture like loyal minions whenever they’re together.” I grinned as I faced the poor hobbit, who looked on the verge of trembling.

He took a shaky breath. “Ok, well, you can do what you like with them, just make sure they don’t go mental and destroy half the place. Please.”

“I doubt they’ll do that.” Piped up Kay, who had now managed to start stroking the snout of her horse. “If you managed to get them here without a fuss, then they should remain docile.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Hopefully.”

After that, Bertie quickly wrapped up the conversation, clearly desperate to get elsewhere so he didn’t have to face the two powerhouses bunking in the stables next to each other. He had mumbled about finding saddles and equipment large enough for them, before quickly scurrying off.

Turning back to face the horse in front of me, I reached up to gently place my hand on its sloping snout. “What’re you naming yours?” I asked, turning to her.

Looking up at the pink snout that was trying to nibble at her hand, she pondered for a moment. “Mmm, something like Calhourn maybe.”

“Nice.” I complimented. “I thought you would’ve gone for something like Moo Moo.”

She snorted. “That’s something you would go for.” She paused. “But it is a strong contender. Perhaps I’ll have it as a nickname.” She turned to me. “What’re you gonna choose?”

“Spleens.”

“No.”

“Ok, how about Felony?”

“Better, cooler, sounds like a name, but maybe choose something more… socially acceptable.”

I grunted in annoyance. “I want a name that disturbs people when they hear it – it’ll be a good conversation starter.”

“It’ll also be a good way to start the conversation of creating Middle Earth’s first mental asylum.” Kay deadpanned. “You can name something like your first pet cat Spleens, but not a horse that you could be riding into battle and potentially have written down in history.”

“But it’ll be the most remembered.” I pouted.

“And the most judged. Now, save the poor horse her dignity and give her a nice name.” she demanded.

“Doo Doo Daggins.”

“I swear to god.”

“Ok! Ok!” I giggled, petting the horse’s snout as she nudged at my hand. “Something fancy then.”

She nodded. “Yea, maybe something that relates to something you do? I don’t know – your witch stuff has a lot of fancy words in it.”

My eyes lit up. “Ohh! What about Hecate!? It links to my practice, and could be some type of dedication to her as a deity!”

Kay raised her brows. “That’s actually not bad. You gonna give her a nickname?”

I pondered for a moment. “Yea. Spleens.”

Kay just sighed.

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

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