#X. dwalin's answer

[ichoosechoasandbeingqueer]

Hello again✨ how about some hc's about Thorin, Fili and Dwalin reactions with human reader that they like👀 she offered to climb a tree to check that they weren't followed when suddenly a branch breaks and falls into the arms of them princess style. Would also be nice if he tried to fix her hair and/or beard by the twigs without knowing the detail of how important her hair is 👌

First off, Thank you for your ask! Its so cute and I hope my writing does it justice! For anyone else who wants to submit an ask, check out my post here.

Before we get started, I made the reader from a made up town/culture so don't look to hard into it. Simply enjoy!

Warnings: None

Trees and confessions...

The howls were getting closer. Night after night the gluttonous cries of the beasts grew louder and more terrifying for the small group you traveled with, and while the eagles had giving you quite the head start, Azog was quickly catching up. The last two nights you had slept without the light of the fire in fear that your enemies would find you.

As it was, the group was hidden amount a large cluster of trees, hardly a forest but enough to keep you all out of the open and hidden away from unwanted eyes. The only problem? You couldn’t see your enemies either.

“We could always send Bilbo up a tree?” Kili suggested, his hand scratching at the stubble on his chin, “he is the lightest and it would keep our cover,”

While smart, Thorin practically growled at the suggestion. The King’s eyes glanced at the limping hobbit, his battle scars from the attack still apparent on his tiny form.

“Absolutely not!” The King spoke again, “I will not risk Bilbo doing any more damage to his ankle before it is properly healed. We are already traveling slower then we need to be,”

“I could scale it?” you offered, “I’m no hobbit but I’m lighter than any of you. Unless we want to see Gandalf try?”

The wizards sent you look that made the entire group snicker. You simply battered your eyelashes and smile innocently at your old friend.  

“Off you go then, before I change you into a squirrel to help get you there,” he huffed, sparking another round of giggles and a quiet question of ‘can he really do that?’ from Kili.

Silently wondering the same question as the young dwarf, you dropped your coat to the side and pulled yourself on the first branch.

“Remember lass, quietly, less you give us up,” Thorin warned.

You hummed in agreement, reaching for the next branch, and then the branch after that. You were human, not much taller than Kili, but you were quick and agile. You had to be living with a wondering village off to the East of even the Lonely Mountain. Your descendants had once been settled between Erebor and the Iron Hills, forced to start traveling after the dragon descended and took away the towns most stable trading source. Now your people were scattered around Middle Earth in search of stability. A stability that you would provide to them when you helped the Dwarf’s take back their homeland.

You made it to the top of the tree without problem, seeing no sign of your hunters or their beasts they rode on. With your heart light and a smile on your lips you began to make your way back down, freezing at the sound of a cracking branch beneath you. You vaguely heard Thorin call up to you before you fell.

…

Thorin

The Dwarven King was on edge. So much had happened in the last week he could not wrap his head around it. Azog resurfacing. Their descent toward the elves. His growing feeling for a certain human. It was all too much, and he constantly felt himself gripping the hilt of his weapon in an ill attempt to keep himself on guard despite his wondering mind.

When the sound of snapping caught his ears he spun on his heel, his sword drawn and his eyes scanning the surrounding trees. When he caught the sound of your gasp and the small squeak that left your lips however, he called after you in question. The second snap sounded before you had a chance to reply and before he could blink, he raced forward to catch you in his arms, his sword left lying forgotten in the leaf litter.

You body came falling through the trees hard and fast, making his knees shake as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest before you could hit the ground. He stumbled for a moment, kneeling to the ground to sit you in his lap as his wide blue eyes scanned yours for answers to his unspoken questions. You held a few scrapes and cuts from the branches on your way down, but other than that you looked ok, nothing broken or bent, and he let out a breath of relief.

You had your eyes clenched shut and your hands wrapped around your mouth to hold back your scream, and he smiled at you attempt to heed his warning of quiet. It was something he loved about you, your devotion to others, though sometimes it scared him how far you were willing to risk yourself for those you care about. It was a trait that he also shared, and the reason he had softened his views towards you during the quest.

You were shaking in his arms and he couldn’t help but pull you in further, pressing his head to yours and whispering reassurance that you were ok. He was not a patient dwarf, but with you he always tried. It took a moment before your hands became steady, and he wrapped his thick fingers around yours with care.

“Thorin?” you questioned, your voice a hoarse whisper.

“Aye lass, you’re ok. Your safe,” he cooed, his fingers leaving yours and running through your hair to rid it of the leaves that had settled there.

“I’m sorry! I tried to be quiet and I-”

“Hush now, I know. You were quiet. You did good. Are you ok?”

You gave a nod, “I’m ok. I got to the top and couldn’t- Thorin, what are you doing?” you cut yourself off, freezing in his grip.

He ran his fingers through your hair a few more times before paused, looking down at your burning cheeks in question, “there are leaves in your hair,” he said like it the most obvious thing in the world.

“Le-leaves?”

“Leaves, branches. You came down rather hard. I would not be surprised if I pull out of bird or two,” he chuckled sending you one of his rare grins.

“My ha-hair. You’re touching my hair,”

The dwarf frowned slightly, realising that you were not still shaking with adrenalin, but because you were uncomfortable. He drew his hands back like you had burnt him.

“I- I, forgive me. I did not mean- I had no intentions to- I should have asked,”

“It’s fine,”

“Are you sure?” he glanced over you again. He was terrified he had upset you, but you made no attempt to move from his lap despite not being able to look at him, and that left him confused, “It obviously means something. To darrow, hair is important. It shows one another comfort or friendship to brush or braid. I thought it was this case with your kin as well. I did not mean to offend you or upset you in any way,”

“Oh no, its not that!” you quickly reassured him, the red still tainting your cheeks, “and hair is important to my culture as well, its just seen as… well more so a romantic gesture then a friendly one,”

It took a moment for Thorin to make the connection in his head, but when he did, he blushed furiously. His mouth fell open and he gasped rather like a fish out of water. There were a hundred things he wanted to say, to confess, yet he sat their unable to voice a single one. Your eyes, once curious were now full of hurt and… was that disappointment?

You cleared your throat and wiped your hands on your pants, “I’m going to get off your lap now,”

“Wait,” he blurted not wanting to waist such an opportune moment, his hand shooting out to stop you from leaving, “I would not be inclined to ah, repeat the action? If you would be accepting of course! That is to say I would like to court you, if you felt for me what I do for you…”

He cringed at his words, his mind so rushed in thoughts that he could not thing of anything more poetic. He felt his stomach churn and he wanted to hide his face in his hands until your voice spoke softly.

“You wish to court me?”

Your eyes were back on him and once again full of hope, so beautiful and deep he felt lost in them. Lost in daydreams and fantasies. Lost for words. Again, he sat there, his cheeks burning under his beard and his lips parting while nothing came out.

“Thorin?” you asked hesitantly, the pain starting to seek back into your features.

“Mahal, curse my useless tongue,” he muttered to himself. Giving up on words, he slid a hand around your waist pulling you against him and pressing his lips against yours in frustration and hope. He grinned against your lips as you kissed him back, wrapping your legs around his body to press closer to his chest. You both drew back breathless and smiling.

“I know we still have much to face. Mirkwood, the dragon-” Thorin went on again, his nerves back.

“Yes, Thorin,” you cut him off, kissing him again, “I want to be yours,”

“Then I am the luckiest dwarf in the world,”

You grinned and pressed your forehead against his, content to stay there in his arms as long as you could.  

“Well that was the most awkward proposal I have ever witnessed,”

“Mahal it’s about time,”

“Get some uncle!”

Thorin heard the others around them and was tempted to shoo them all away, but he simply kissed you again, all his worries temporarily gone.

Dwalin

It was instinct, a force of nature, a reflex that he caught you as you came tumbling out of the branches with a cry. The burly warrior had kept his eyes on you the entire way up and back, his heart in his throat as your climbed so far away from him. From his protection.

He knew better than to think you were useless, you had been traveling around Middle Earth alone for years now, but he couldn’t help but to want to keep your safe, hovering where he wasn’t necessarily needed, but willing to help you with even the easiest of your jobs. The others would often tease him over the way his demeaner softened when you got near, or the way he would follow you around like a puppy on a leash, but strangely the comments didn’t bother him. He knew he had it bad for you, and he was happy to be by your side however he could.  

Was he brave enough to admit the feelings he had towards you? Not a chance. But would be there for you regardless? Absolutely. That’s why he caught you with ease, wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you against his chest with worried eyes.

“Lass, what happened? Are you alright?” he questioned in panic.

You blinked slowly, glancing up at the tree you were in then to the ground, then to Dwalin himself who was still holding you close. One moment you were calm, the next you were wrapping yourself around his shoulders, your body shaking and your fingers clawing at his jacket to hold on and burry your face into the crook of his neck, your panic catching up to you.

Dwalin let you cling onto him wherever you needed to feel calm again and he rubbed soothing circles into your back with his thick fingers. He stayed quiet, no sure what to say to help, be he never let go. After a moment of silence you stopped shaking, Dwalin’s presence calming you in a way no other could.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his neck, the edge of his beard tickling your cheek as you looked up at him with watery eyes and the scarred old darrow couldn’t help but to melt at the sight.

Holding you up with one arm, he wiped away your tears with a gentle touch, “Hush now dove, none o’ that. Ya’ safe and sound,”

“Safe,” you mumbled back, digging your face deeper.

“What did you see?” Thorin interrupted impatiently, his fingers tapping against the handle of his sword.

Dwalin scoffed, “Give her a second there would ya?”

“We don’t have time,” he glared back, raising a brow to question his best warrior.

“There’s no one out there,” you muttered before they could start bickering, “and if they are, they’re not finding us tonight,”

Thorin gave a nod, giving orders to the dwarfs around you to set up camp for the night. You let out a sigh and wriggled out of your saviour’s grip, Dwalin putting you down carefully.

“Ya alright lass?”  

“Yeah, thank you Dwalin. Don’t know what I’d do without you,” you mumbled that last part more to yourself but the dwarf chuckled and flushed red.

“Don’t have ta be without me. I’ll always be here ta keep ya safe,”

And almost to prove it, he reached up and softly pulled a branch from your hair. You gasped as his fingers brush your hair, and your heart pounded in your chest at the implication. Without a second though, your fingers laced around the collar of his tunic, pulling him in and kissing him.

Caught off guard, Dwalin’s eyes widened before fluttering closed, his body sinking into the sudden kiss. Disappointment weld in his chest when you pulled back to breath but you didn’t let go.

“You just kissed me,” he grinned, pink tinting his cheeks as he squinted at you in question.

You blinked, “Uh, yes. That is what you asked of me, was it not?”

“Asked of you… what?” He tilted his head in confusion, “I didn’t ask- that’s not to say I- It’s just-”

“You don’t wish to court me?”

“No! I mean yes! I mean- Mahal’s balls,”

You took a step away from him, embarrassment written across your face.

“Wait! Wait! I mean I do wish ta court ya, I have for a while now and I would do anything to get you to kiss me like that again. I just don’t understand how I asked ya,”

“Oh,” you frowned taking his words in, “ah, well… in my culture, to touch another’s hair is a rather intimate action. It’s something only lovers would do. When you touched my hair, I guess I jumped at the chance that you might adore me the way I do you,”

Dwalin smiled, a gentle and pure look, “Oh dove I do adore ya, more than ya could imagine,”

“Then kiss me again,”

“Aye, anything for my one,”

And kiss you he did.

Fili

When the first crack sounded, Fili thought it was his brother messing about. He grinned and spun around to smack him playfully when he realised that his brother had wondered off to help set up. When the second crack sounded and you gasped from somewhere above him, his heart froze in his chest as he realised what was happening.

He didn’t have time to call for help, to ask if you were ok, before he spotted your figure falling through the branches of the tree you had climbed. With every piece of strength Mahal had granted him in his creation, he shot through the small campground and held out his hands to catch you, tumbling when his foot hit a root of the great tree.

You squeaked as you came down, falling into the blond dwarf’s arms and bringing you both to the ground with enough force to wind you both.

In a tangle of limbs and soft groans of pain Fili blinked away the discomfort, shooting up straight to check on you. He had been fast enough to twist your bodies so you landed on top of him and now you laid with your head on his chest, you face scrunched in protest of the soreness in your limbs.

“Lass are you ok?” he groaned out in worry, watching your eyes glance around before meeting his.

“Aye, I’m ok. You?”

“I’m fine,” he reassured now his heart had finished pounding in his chest at his panic.

“Next time I’m sending your brother up the tree,” you moaned, resting your head on his chest once more, finding yourself in a rather comfortable position with the dwarf. Fili chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and making you smile.

For a long moment, the two of you simply laid there like that, covered in leaves and tangled up against one another, relishing in one another’s presence. It was comfortable, despite the hard ground, and you hummed in delight as he raked his fingers delicately through your hair. He worked attentively to get each and every leaf out of your locks and you blushed in guilt of not wanting him to stop.

“Fili, what are you doing?”

He hummed nonchalantly, “Getting rid of the leaves. You can do mine once I’m finished,”

“Fili you- it’s just- well I can’t just-” you spluttered, your face burning red.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to I just thought… I though we were getting close enough too… never mind,”

“You braided Ori’s hair only yesterday,”

“Aye? They are my friend, what of it?”

“Your friend? Is that what that means to you then? What I mean to you?”

Fili paused his fingers and looked down at your face in confusion and hurt, his stomach tensing and his eyes beginning to burn, “Do you not see me as your friend?”

“Of course I see you as my friend!” you reassured, snapping your head up to look at his defeated face, “I would trust and cherish not one else more than you by my side… it’s just-”

“Just?”

“Well, where I’m from, touching and braiding one’s hair is seen as more than just friendliness. It’s ah… more so a romantic or intimate gesture,”

Fili felt his entire body burn under your gaze. He had not meant to disrespect your culture and your explanation made him want to run his fingers through your hair even more, not to mention the way you were gazing at him, almost like you too wanted him to continue. It was true he adored you, was drawn to you in a way he had not felt with any of his other suiters, but he was nervous. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if this wasn’t a nudge to continue but a warning to back off? He didn’t always understand humans and it was worse with you not knowing much about your culture as it was just a big of a secret as his own culture.

Fili also had a nasty habit of over thinking everything he did.

“Fo-forgive me, I meant no disrespect,” he swallowed nervously, “To darrow, the gesture of brushing or braid hair is intimate yes, but for any we hold dear to us,”

You watched him carefully, “So I am dear to you?”

“More then you know. In fact, if you feel the same way, the offer to brush my hair remains? In- in the way your culture means it to be? If you wish to remain as we are that is fine too its just- I thought maybe- I really like you, in that way too. And now I’m rambling, and I can’t stop it, words are just coming out and I-”

You cut him off with a kiss, stilling his words but not his tongue. He pulled you closer, one hand around your waist and the other returning to your hair. You both pulled away dazed and giggling.

“I would love to braid your hair Fili,”

#ask #asks #ask box #answered asks #the hobbit #the hobbit x reader #thorin #thorin x reader #thorin x (y/n) #thorin oakenshield #dwalin #dwalin fundinson #dwalin x reader #dwalin x (y/n) #fili #fili durin #fili x reader #fili x (y/n) #azog #orcs #tolkien #my writing #fluff #confessions

[sotwk]

📖 Fic rec time! When you get this, reply with three fics that you've read and loved to pieces, then pass on to at least five other people who read fics. Let’s appreciate fic writers and their amazing stories 💖

Better late than never with this one! <3 I remain woefully behind on my reading, and I am SO sorry for that, writing fanfic and reading fanfic are often very hard for me to do simultaneously (focus issues), but I always love recommending the few things I've read and loved.

SotWK 3 Fic Recommendations: Multi-Chapter, Canon x OC Picks

Dwalin Has a Bad Day (Dwalin x OC) by @lathalea - I know there are Dwalin lovers out there--this fluffy rom-com is a MUST read for you! Apart from the (always) amazing writing, colorful worldbuilding, loveable OCs, and innovative headcanon concepts ("dwelf"!) abound. When it comes to Dwarves, Latha is one of my go-to experts.

A Shooting Star (Thorin x OC) by @linasofia - This is one of the few fics I had the privilege of following all the way through as it was being written, and that says a lot since that means it utterly captivated my pitiful attention span. Lina writes Thorin sooooo well, in the gorgeous manner Richard Armitage portrayed him, and that is what I love in my Thorin fics. Very lovely OC that you would absolutely cheer for, and you are treated to life in Erebor after its reclamation! (Dude, Thorin is alive, where have you been??)

Burn Like Cold Iron (Boromir x OC) by @scyllas-revenge - I almost feel silly putting this on a rec list because this fic is legend in the Boromir fandom. (Like, hi, hello, have you heard of this movie called "Star Wars"? It's kind of walking up to someone and asking them that.) I love fics that draw me in despite not falling into my usual preferences (Modern Girl OC in this case), and this defines that. Scylla also nails a fluffy, genuinely funny brand of humor that I have yet to see matched by any other writer, so if you like that sort of thing, browse her entire masterlist while you're at it. This fic has its own fandom, so if you don't want to take my word for it, take the word of all those other admirers!

Go forth and feast, my friends! And remember--please tip (reblog/comment/kudos) your writers! <3

#sotwk answers #lotr #lotr fanfic #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #fanfic rec #tolkien #boromir #thorin #dwalin #boromir x oc #thorin x oc #dwalin x oc #sotwk recommends #sotwk favorites #support your writers #oc appreciation

[i-did-not-mean-to]

if are accepting ant requests...

Reader plays with bubbles in the bathtub, any character of your choice tries to avoid being splashed by them

Please?

Hello Nonny,

As I've said, I was looking forward to this one a whole lot...so here goes nothing...(and I went with ficlets after all)

@laurfilijames, @medusas-hairband, @eunoiaastralwings thank you so much for your input, I've kept your characters as anon seemed to like them :D

Disclaimer: This is pure crack, please don't come for me. I clearly don't know what I am doing and - especially for the Silm characters - I am not claiming that this is an accurate portrayal!

ENJOY!

Words: 1,9 k

Warnings: Nudity, sexual innuendo, slightly romantic (but not always)

Characters: Thorin x Reader, Dwalin x Reader, Elu Thingol x Reader, Caranthir x Reader, Ulmo x Reader

Thorin II

“What do you think you’re doing?” the king asked sternly, looking down in dismay on the dark splotches of water and the tiny clumps of foam on his tunic; to you, it looked as if tiny sheep were merrily frolicking in a summer sky.

“Oh, come on, Your Esteemed Haughtiness,” you laughed, flinging another handful of iridescent bubbles at your beloved, much to his visible astonishment.

Thorin was generally surprised whenever his punitive stare did nothing to disparage you in your mischievous streaks of harmless fun.

“You’re no better than the lads,” he muttered under his breath, “and you’ve just ruined my best tunic.”

Mirth – quiet and sly – made his eyes twinkle like gems in the firelight though and – seeing your challengingly cocked eyebrows – he lifted the sodden garment off his muscular frame at an agonisingly slow pace.

The last glimpse you caught of his regal countenance before it was swallowed by wet fabric betrayed ambition and something darker that made you shiver despite the comfortable temperature of the water you were floating in.

Your joyful splashing turned into the rhythmic melody of liquid crashing against the sides of the bathtub as your thighs clenched around the ghost of what was to come; you could hardly wait for it and yet you knew that you’d pay your trespass dearly if the king’s smirk was anything to go by.

“Will you not behave?” he purred, closing his broad, callused fingers carefully and yet emphatically around your wrist, suspended seductively and glistening wetly from the delicate rim of the bathtub. 

“No,” you laughed as you brought up your other hand – full of bubbles and foam – and blew it into his face just as he was leaning in for a kiss. 

“Oh, I guess you’ll have to be taught a lesson then,” Thorin bellowed, laughter dancing on every full, velvety note of his beautiful voice. 

Dwalin 

“DWALIN!” you cried, doing your best to give your voice that panicked edge that brought him running – axe in hand – into your bath chamber.

“What is it? Where are they?” he roared, swinging the weapon threateningly over his head.

“Come here,” you whined, buried deep within the shadows of the massive walls of soap bubbles you had stirred up by flapping your hands about like a demented sea creature for a good long while.

Loyal and protective to a fault, the tall warrior stormed over with as much powerful determination as if he was charging across a battlefield rather than merely crossing a single room of moderate proportions. 

“Here,” you drew him in further; the tub was so huge that you could fold yourself into the darkest corner – almost untouched by the flickering light of the yellow candles – and lie in wait.

As his bald head poked through your meticulous construction though, you brought your palms together and – scooping up as much soapy water as you could – you splashed it into his darling face with trilling, cheery giggles.

Spluttering and blinking frantically, Dwalin let his disapproving gaze fall heavily on you.

“That’s it, wee one,” he grumbled, “bath time is over.”

And, without further ado or even the slightest concern for your rituals of vanity, his muscled forearms plunged into the warm water and lifted you out of it – dripping all over the floor – and over to the bedchamber where he threw you onto the bed with much gusto.

“Ya think t’was funny? Ay?” he growled, the stern frown belied by the twitching of his mouth under the impressive beard and moustache, “Ay! We’ll see…”

Crowing with pleasure and breathless laughter, you twisted and squirmed as those hands – so skilled in battle and so tender in his affection – started tickling you mercilessly.

“Play stupid games,” he whispered into your ear, “win stupid prizes!”

Elu Thingol

You shouldn’t find this so funny, but you did.

“This is the third robe you’ve ruined,” Thingol hissed, shrugging out of the beautiful garment – every stitch a work of art – and throwing it over a chaise longue to dry, “if you don’t agree with my pick, just say so; you are making me late!”

It was his own fault if he couldn’t help his vanity (or was it lack of confidence in his own taste?) and wanted to flaunt every outfit he chose for his meeting with emissaries from the other realms to get your approval. 

“I’ll stop,” you promised, “but you really need to relax!” 

Elu Thingol frowned; he was an important Elf, he was a king, he had seen the light of the Trees for Eru’s sake and yet, his meticulous planning of his day was foiled by a single creature intent on splashing his Royal Highness with soap bubbles. 

“I have no time to relax; I’ll relax in the Halls of Waiting,” he grumbled, patting his beautiful silver hair as if to make sure that there were no unwelcome tufts of foam in it that would inevitably ruin his dramatic entrance. 

“You’re the prettiest king,” you crooned mockingly, which earned you a hard stare and a minute shake of that elegant head, perched atop an only half-dressed body. 

A hard knock on the chamber doors echoed into the room and he turned around sharply, giving you another warning look – sharp as a blade and as fond as any you had ever seen – before striding over to kiss the top of your head.

“Do you want to take a handful of foam? To blow at your opponents?” you asked innocently, holding out the ephemeral gems on your palm like a peace offering.

“They are my kin,” he sighed, “and childish as they might be, they might not have my supreme sense of humour.”

His very tone – self-deprecation and confidence swirling like your hands under the water surface – made you break into a peal of chiming laughter. 

One well-shaped eyebrow rose in silent judgement of your reaction before he strode out, chirping: “Luckily for you, I don’t throw the baby out with the bathwater.”

Whether that comment referenced your relationship – strenuous and loving at the same time – or his negotiations, you could not say, but you had seen the wicked, little smile on Thingol’s face before he had turned away; truly, nothing made him happier than to deliver a bad pun after telling someone off, and you both knew it.

Caranthir 

Heat rose with such a rapid and burning passion in Caranthir’s cheeks that you thought for a moment that the bubbles speckling his beautiful face would just turn into hissing steam.

“I am going to drown you,” he hissed warningly, but that did not discourage you in the least, so – gathering up yet more foam in your hands – you kept bombarding him with it relentlessly. 

“Come on, pretty boy,” you laughed, “let me see what you’ve got!” 

You had expected many things from one so dignified – to the point where people liked to call him sulking and brooding – but never would you have expected him to simply kick off his boots and all but jump into the large bathing pool beside you.

“Carnistir!” you exclaimed – scandalised – when his hands settled on your shoulders and pushed you under the surface of the water slowly and tenderly.

“That’ll teach you,” he whispered when you came up again, gasping for air and laughing at the same time which made for a very unattractive sound, “to splash me like that.”

“I thought you were in need of cooling off,” you teased, tapping a finger against his high cheek – flushed with emotion and indignation – lovingly.

“Why do you bait me so?” he complained darkly which made you yearn to just lean over and press your lips onto that source of warmth – real and metaphorical – that was his beloved face.

“You are exceedingly easy to rile up,” you explained with a conciliatory smile; you loved him truly, and all his perceived flaws were the flowers in the garden of your life even if he couldn’t quite understand that at times.

“I guess I am,” he conceded, leaning back against the edge of the pool as if he was not sitting fully dressed in the large marble basin like the adorable fool that he was.

“As you are already here,” you purred, “and reasonably tempered now; how about you join me?”

“You contradict yourself!” His captious little quip made you giggle under your breath.

“If you don’t intend to make me your laundress – while you wear the clothes meant to be cleaned – I’d suggest that you take them off?” you chuckled softly.

“Will you stop annoying me if I do?” 

Being one of seven boys, Caranthir knew better than to trust the suspiciously innocent batting of your eyes and the expression of perfect trustworthiness washing over your features.

“I will drown you,” he repeated his previous threat, but his voice held no bite now.

“Not if I get to you first,” you replied with angelic patience and a naughty gleam in your eyes.

Ulmo

“What is this travesty?” 

Frightful and intimidating in his otherworldly appearance, Ulmo looked like a huge sea monster trying to emulate a pet as he knelt – folded upon himself – on the shore, peering into the small tub you had dragged all the way out here to show him a bubble bath.

“Why would you taint the purity of the water I have so graciously gifted you?” 

He sounded utterly scandalised as he watched you pour a fragrant, oozing substance into the tub before sinking into it with a contented sigh.

His eyes, shimmering in all the colours of the wild ocean, were huge and mesmerising as they followed the movements of your leisurely paddling hands, whipping up scented froth on the surface of the warm water.

In a playful gesture, you blew a few whisps of it into his direction and he flinched back like a wave withdrawing before a tsunami.

“What are you doing?” he thundered, pulling closer once more to inspect the slowly disintegrating bubbles with renewed interest, "Explain this to me!”

Fingers that were nothing like actual digits poked tentatively at the fragile, scintillating orbs which – obviously – made them pop soundlessly.

“It burns,” he complained.

“It does not,” you contradicted, “these are safe for babies. Are you a baby, Master of the Sea?”

“I am as old as time, nay, older yet,” he grumbled, vexed by your insinuation, and brought down his hand in a mighty wave upon the pitiful remnant of foam to wash it away.

“I do not enjoy this,” he muttered, “I will never understand your hunger and enthusiasm for frivolities such as this.”

“I guess you shan’t,” you laughed, leaning back in your tub, and listening to the melody of the ocean, “but you don’t have to. Thank you for letting me show you, nonetheless.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, joining in your laughter in a sound of waves crashing into the rocky shore, “what I do like is to see you happy though.”

And because you knew how much he enjoyed a good song – and you wanted this afternoon to hold some pleasure for him too – you intonated a love song to the sea that the ocean itself picked up; as the notes liquified and flowed effortlessly into a stream of soft splashing and soaring words, both of you smiled. Life was good, with or without bubbles.

Eager to please and to write what people ask, IDNMT throws together a whole lot of characters she has no handle on...LOL

If you liked this, please feel free to reblog or comment, it would absolutely make my day ❤️

Lots of love (and bubbly bubbles from me), chaotic as ever...

💝💝💝

-> Second (much darker, angstier) part

#fanfiction #request #ask #IDNMT answers #the hobbit #the silmarillion #silm #hobbit #Thorin #dwalin #elu thingol #caranthir #ulmo #x reader #i hope you like this anon

[celeste-clearwater-06]

heartbeat (thorin oakenshield x female!modern! reader)

gif by me!!

desc. - reader puts her CPR lessons to good use when thorin's on the brink of death. (inspired by an imagine by @imaginexhobbit but make it sad🫶 also i listened to "farewell to dobby" while reading this, it adds so muchhh)

warnings - angst 💔

word count - 2.7k

For most of the time you’d been traveling with Thorin and his merry band of warriors, you could only account a few times you provided yourself useful to the group. Bofur was a whittler and toy maker, Oin a healer, Ori a scribe. Thorin and his sister-sons, the rightful heir to a kingdom. Even Bilbo had squeezed his way into a position of burglary, though he was hardly fit, and was still fighting to prove himself.

You?

A few stories around the campfire. Some questions answered about where you’d appeared from out of nowhere in particular. Mouth watering modern food recipes you babbled on about, over rabbit stew Bombur happily served on the cold nights on the road. And sure, you were getting good with a sword, but not nearly as skillful as the fearless fighter Dwalin.

You could see the malevolence and distaste in Thorin’s eyes when Gandalf decided for himself that you would make a fine addition to the group. After all, some otherworldly stranger happening upon them just as their fateful quest began was no coincidence. To him it meant something. But to the leader of the group? Danger? Deadweight? You couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it settled behind his cold, steel-blue eyes and swelled whenever he watched you fail miserably at every task given.

You simply weren’t built for a world like this.

Thorin didn’t hate you. He wasn’t necessarily fond of you either. And how you longed to fit in, impress him maybe. Break past whatever tough exterior that he used to keep a distance between the two of you. Pushing too much would surely annoy him, so you opted to keep to yourself, sitting back and placing yourself near Gandalf and the witty Bilbo Baggins, who seemed to have walked a few miles in your own shoes. If he could wear them, that is. Hoping maybe one day the King under the mountain would come around. Maybe.

But now, soaring over the horizon of a morning sun and above the towering mountains, on the feathered back of a massive bird, Bilbo had proven himself in his bravery, and you were alone and useless in your skills.

You were seated atop the same eagle as the halfling, right behind another that carried Thorin’s limp body in its talons, wind and the worried cries of his nephews rushing through your hair and past your ears. Azog’s fight was not an easy one. Not that you could do much anyways, dangling uselessly from a blazing pine tree and fingers slipping from its scorching branches. But Thorin, ever the brave, was taken down quickly.

Thank the lord for Gandalf’s endless alliances.

Now, the eagles circled a plateau, oddly sticking out from above high treetops like a sore thumb, and began to descend to its slanted surface where each member of the company jumped off. Some destination this was, hundreds of feet off the ground. You’d think they might find a safer spot to land this band of underground dwelling travelers but beggars can’t be choosers. At least you were out of harm's way for the time being. The eagle you and Bilbo rode flew low enough for you to hop off and land safely on the cliff’s surface, then turn and see Thorin, unconscious and unmoving, set down gently in front of the rest of the group.

They all crowded around him, shouting and shaking his body vigorously, but to no avail. Your stomach dropped when you heard one of them mutter a word that sounded like “dead”.

You rushed over, just getting a few glimpses of his face from behind the heads of thick hair and heavy fur coats circling him like vultures, Bilbo at your heels and following in curiosity.

“He’s not breathing!”

“Thorin! Thorin, wake up!” A hand tapped on the side of his face.

You immediately began shouting to clear some room. The sea of worried dwarves parted for you, just enough room to sling your haversack off your shoulders and lean down on your knees, bringing an ear to his mouth. They were right. Not a breath to be heard. Nor a pulse, you discovered, after placing your fingers to the side of his cold neck.

“No…no no, no.”

The company shared confused mutters and looks, worry lines still etched like canyons in their faces as they watched you clamor to unclasp his thick cloak and pull away as much clothing as you could from his chest.

Now, you were no doctor. Not even a medical student for that matter. Just barely scraping by with an art degree and two, low paying part-time jobs back home. Wherever that was. But, thankfully, those required CPR lessons back in junior high suddenly came rushing back to you, and you were gonna put to the best use you could.

You locked your elbows, flattened your palms, and then hastily pressed against the brute of his firm chest. Mahal, it was stubborn, and the armored shirt between your hands and his heart was no help, but acting quickly spared no time for shedding any more of his clothes. Again and again you pressed, one, two, just how the instructor taught you with her quick tongue and loud voice.

“An even pace! You’re going to lose him!”

The recall made your head spin, especially considering it might have been a bit comedic at the time, trying to revive an armless mannequin on the tile floor of your classroom. But under the steady pressure of your palms was a real person, teetering on the edge of life and death.

Gandalf landed somewhere behind you, being the last to touch ground, but he was forgotten in the sea of deep voices asking what you could possibly be doing.

By the 16th compression, you were beginning to break a sweat. Twenty, twenty one…

“Lass… what are ya’ doing?” Bofur's voice, usually friendly and jovial, was a low and cowering one. His question left the rest of the group quiet. You heard, but you didn’t answer. That would be for later when this was over. Preferably with a happy ending.

Thirty.

You moved to pinch Thorin's nose shut, tilting his head just slightly off the ground with the other hand tangled in his hair and breathed into his open mouth.

Any and all bewildered muttering was lost on the focus you had, to watch for any movement in his relaxed face.

You breathed again, and then bent over to listen. Nothing.

Now things began to get more grave than you’d taken them before.

You moved back to begin compressions again, this time pressing harder and deeper against his heart. You lifted a forearm to wipe the sweat gathering on your brow.

In your class, you were supposed to take turns, and rotate when one got tired so they could properly compress. But this wasn’t class.

Thorin was beneath the weight of your hands and his face was losing color.

“Come on… come on Thorin.”

You lost count after the 19th shove downwards, adrenaline kicking in and tears blurring the corners of your eyes as Thorin convulsed.

A warm hand settled on your shoulder above.

“Lass… he-” you smacked it away, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach like fire that you spat out.

“No! No he’s not, n-not yet.”

Again, you breathed into his airway, heavy and even, like you were supposed to. You were doing everything right. So why wasn’t it working? Why wasn’t he breathing?

This was the quietest you had ever heard the company. Only birds and the sound of your exhausted, heaving breaths and choking sobs floating in the cool morning air.

You moved back to compressions, starting again, one, two, three. You were begging him, hysterically pleading his unresponsive body to kick start back up.

“Please Thorin. Come on.”

Now tears rolled down the apple of your cheeks, warm and bothersome and blinding, falling over your hands and his clothes. Your arms ached at the now desperate shoving against his heart. You looked pathetic, like a widow begging for scraps of Thorin’s lifeline, something to get him through. The ground dug harshly into your knees, bruising and irritating them through the pants as they dully scraped with each movement.

Twenty two.

You were slowing down, growing weary and tired from the work. But it wasn’t good enough. At this point, with the silent stares, you knew that even the ever stubborn dwarves had lost hope for their leader some time ago. And you had too, but now you were already getting past the twenty-fifth press down. Curse the lot of them, just staring down at you with pity as you sniffed and wiped the snot and tears from your face. And curse the beauty of the morning sun peaking over the mountains, so regal and beautiful, and staring down at the morose show of a sad little human weeping to herself.

“Please… please, God you idiot. Running down there like that.”

A cry frogged its way out of the back of your throat, raspy and gurgling. You lift his head for the third time, sniffed in and then pushed your shaking breath as hard as you could manage, pulled away, then back down to press your quivering lips upon his cold ones and-

A breath. Soft and faint, just barely there, and it slightly cooled the tears on your face.

You froze, staring down at Thorin to see his eyes twitch just slightly underneath their lids. Another exhale fled him, his time much more apparent, and his brows furrowed as he stirred awake. The gasps and shouts from the company, scrambling over and circling him like they did before to help him up as he came to.

“He’s alive!”

“A miracle! Bless the Valor!”

You lifted yourself from the ground, onto your feet, but the shock of your attempts actually working, and exhaustion, just left you to stumble backwards onto your butt, crying harder than before, in relief and joy, nonetheless sobbing like your life depended on it. You gave into the fatigue of your muscles, the tiredness from the adrenaline, and exhaustion from your sobs, and fell onto your back, covering your eyes with a forearm with the other limply laying on the ground next to you. Bilbo kneeled next to you and laid his small hand over yours, watching as the king was pulled to his feet and grimacing at the noises of his jovial party celebrating with shouting and laughing.

“You did it,” The burglar said quietly, just enough for you to hear. It wasn’t just amazement in his voice, but reassurance. Something to ground you, like the warm squeeze of his hand.

You trembled, breaths coming in and out with a shiver.

Thorin’s dazed when you slowly sit up off the ground to look at him, swaying about and being jostled as each excited dwarf embraced and jumped around him, and an arm shouldered over Kìli’s to keep his balance.

“You were dead.” Dwalin’s normally stony, hard-set face, was graced with the most horrified look you’d ever seen in your life, eyes widened and brows twisted upwards in awe. That seemed to settle everyone down enough, and shake Thorin from the rest of his stupor. Once again, the world around you was blessed with silence that you hadn’t gotten a taste of since you arrived. It was short lived.

“Dead?” Thorin asked, incredulous and confused.

“Ye’ weren’t breathing lad!” Gloin chimed in, “we thought you were gone!”

The king’s eyes narrow, and shift between the members of his party, blinking away a head rush.

“How is that possible?” The second set of words he’d spoken since he screamed Azog’s name. Thorin’s voice was low and rasping. He slowly turned, following the astounded, wide-eyed stares from the surrounding dwarves, boring into you like you were some God.

You sniffled, wiping at your reddened, runny nose with the sleeve of your shirt.

He lifted a jeweled hand to graze over his heart, where you were reviving him, just staring at the sad sight of your tearful eyes.

“She saved ya’, Thorin,” Balin’s voice is serious and somber, breaking the silence, “Brough’ ya’ back from near death. Mahal knows how.”

Thorin’s eyes grew sharp, brows furrowing and piercing into you, where you pulled yourself to sit on your knees. His fingers tightened around the cloth where his hand laid, clutching at his chest.

“You,” he gruffed, “You did this?”

“I-I… I didn’t know if it was gonna work.” Your throat tightened and squeezed. Great, even more tears flowed down your face. Thorin’s eyes held the same glint that made your stomach twist with embarrassment and shame. The least he could do is offer a nod of gratitude towards you. Instead, he tore free from the group, ripping his arm away off his nephew’s shoulder and stumbling towards you like a drunken fool, with thudding footsteps.

Dwalin calls after him uselessly, just hanging back and letting the scene play out.

When he stops in front of you, eyes firey and broad chest heaving breaths in and out, standing a few inches over where you’re knelt, all you can do is try not to look away. You’re glad you hadn’t.

A boa-tight grip took hold of your heart and tightened when you saw his features soften, worry lines and crow's feet disappearing in the appearance of a small, incredulous smile. His softened eyes lined themselves with the hint of tears catching like jewels in the morning sun. Thorin dropped down to his knees to meet your height in a hug that you could never have prepared yourself for. You freeze for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Thorin, fearless, merciless, King Under the Mountain was hugging, no, embracing you, with the force of a thousand winds and strength of ten thousand men, because he was alive, thanks to you. And you hugged him back, pulling closer than you already were, and grasping at the back of his shirt and cried into his shoulder. The dwarves cheered in excitement behind Thorin. Through the yelling and praise, you can hear Thorin’s low voice next to your ear.

“I cannot repay this deed. Thank you.”

You pull away to see the kindest, warmest smile your eyes had ever been blessed to lay upon. It knocked the breath from your lungs. The corners of his eyes and the arch of his nose wrinkled upwards. It suited his face much more than the cold and stoic stares he was prone to.

“I wasn’t sure you were gonna make it.” Was all you could huff out.

“Yet I did. I misunderstood you greatly.” Thorin wiped a tear from the side of your face, “You make a member of this group. My life is indebted to you. And you,”

He peered over your shoulder at a wide-eyed Bilbo Baggins, standing just past your shoulder. You helped him stand from the ground, arm linked in his to meet the hobbit.

“You nearly got yourself killed,” he slipped free from your arm, and started toward Bilbo, just as he did you. “Did I not say you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild?”

Your face fell, akin to Bilbo’s solemn look. He stood there, taking the string of insults like a punching bag.

“That you had no place amongst us?”

And then he pulled the hobbit in just as he did you.

“I have never been so wrong, in all my life.”

Your heart reeled, and this time you smiled along with the rest of the company’s rejoices, watching the surprised grin spread across Bilbo’s face. Thorin pulled away.

“I am sorry I doubted you.”

“No, no. I would have doubted me, too.”

A hand planted itself on your shoulder, and you turned to look at Gandalf and his sagely smile.

“You’ve made yourself quite the home in these dwarves' hearts, young lady,” he said. It was comedic, the way his silvery hair and beard dramatically blew in the wind, “Perhaps once this has settled, you stay with them. I think you’d find yourself more than welcome in Erebor’s Halls.”

You hummed in thought. The band of travelers were gathered on the edge of the plateau, looking out in the distance towards the peak of the Lonely Mountain, calling their name through the mist.

Thorin turned back to look at you over his shoulder with a gentle smile, and nodded his head to you in a silent thanks. The ghost of a blush spread across his face.

“I just might.”

(aaaaaah! what did you guys think??? :3 it feels wonderful to get a full fic out after so long, ive had this idea in my head for dayyys ugh 💔 please send me some requests loves, i'm in desperate need of some comfort fics! don't forget to reblog and like!! love yas! 🩷🌺🌸🌷💝💞)

tag list : @kumqu4t @tolkien-fantasy @blueberryrock @to-be-frank-i-dont-care @luna-xial @legolaslovely @fizzyxcustard @pistachiozombie @imaginexhobbit @beenovel

#thorin oakenshield #xreader #thorin oakenshield x reader #peter jackson #thorins company #the hobbit #thorin x reader #the hobbit x reader #angst #happy ending #yayyy #i need thorin #tolkien #modern! reader

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Flower Crowns - Dwalin X Female (Baggins) Reader

Title: Flower Crowns

Dwalin X Female Reader

Additional Characters: The Company, Ori, Kili, Fili, Thorin, Bofur, Balin, Oin (Mentioned), Bomber (Mentioned), Gandalf (Mentioned), Bilbo, Bard (Mentioned), Bard's kids (Mentioned), Alfrid (Mentioned), and the Mirkwood Elves (including Legolas and Tauriel (Mentioned))

Requested By: Anon!

WC: 5,252

Warnings: The Hobbit canon violence/weapons/death/etc, Reader is Bilbo's sister, misunderstandings, broody Dwalin, blood, injuries, nicknames, crying (brief), orcs, death, Ones, giant spiders, movie reference to a different movie (bonus points for those who get it), yelling, angst, and fluff

Trudging up the path with a woven basket of homemade muffins, you made your way up to Bilbo's home. You were a bit late. You were supposed to be at Bilbo's over an hour ago, but you had misjudged when you'd finish your muffins. And you knew how much Bilbo loved your muffins, so you were sure he wouldn't be too annoyed by your tardiness after eating a muffin or two.

Stopping at the door, you let out a small huff before knocking on the round door... Only to receive no answer. You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows before just entering. Pushing the door closed behind you, you heard voices from somewhere else in the Hobbit hole, confusing you even more. Had Bilbo invited others to dinner?

"Bilbo?" You called out, beginning to wander over towards the voices that quickly stopped after you spoke.

But before you could say anything more, Bilbo popped out into the hallway, rushing over to you. "Y/N, I believe we'll have to reschedule dinner." He spoke, rushed as he tried turning you around.

Your frown deepened as you twisted around in his hold, your eyes staring at the circular entrance of the dining room, "What do you mean? Who have you invited over?" Your curiosity was peaked now, and you wanted answers. 

"Nothing! No one! Lovely seeing you!" Bilbo exclaimed, pushing you backward towards the door, ready to get you out. But before he could, you ducked out of his arms and sped towards the dining room. 

You skidded to a halt at the entrance, eyes widening as your jaw dropped slightly. Bilbo sighed, rubbing his face with both of his hands before walking over and standing beside you. Eyes glued to the surprise visitors, you leaned over to Bilbo slightly; eyes unmoving from the surprise guests, "Bilbo... Why do you have thirteen Dwarves and a wizard in your dining room?"

~~~

And that was how you got roped into traveling alongside Bilbo, Gandalf, and the rest of the Company. Gandalf somehow convinced Thorin that having a second Hobbit would benefit the Company. And, unlike your brother, you wanted to go with them. You had read so many books about adventure and heard so many stories... You wanted to get out into the world and go on adventures that you had read in those books. 

During the first few days of the journey to The Lonely Mountain, you became friends with most, if not all, of the Company. Kili and FIli, for example - the two youngest members of the Company - took you under their wing. When Thorin allowed the Company to rest, they would teach you how to defend yourself. Most lessons usually turned into fooling around most of the time, despite Thorin's grumblings. Fili and Kili were fun people to be around. They never failed to make you laugh, which was welcomed when having to face orcs and goblins almost daily. 

Balin was like a father figure to you, always giving worldly and wise advice. Bomber often let you help in the making of breakfast and dinner. Ori, the sweetest of the bunch, would tell you stories, which you eagerly accepted to listen to every time. It gave you something to look forward to. And Oin, when free to do so, would teach you the basics of healing; showing you what herbs and plants worked best for certain ailments, which ones should be avoided, and so on.

You enjoyed each member of the Company's presence, but Thorin and Dwalin were the only two who hardly spoke a word to you. You weren't sure whether it was because they believed you didn't belong in the company, or because they were just not talkers. You hoped it was the latter.

But between the two, you really liked Dwalin. You liked his gruff demeanor - the brooding look on his face - and in addition, you really found him attractive. His muscular build, strong arm muscles, and dark hair; not to mention the tattoos on his arms - you wondered what their stories were. It surprised you, in the beginning, when you finally let the realization sink in. Even Bilbo, the only one that you had told about this attraction - you didn't fully trust Kili and Fili with the information - Bilbo was shocked, to say the least. 

~~~

Walking with Kili and Fili, you snatched up bundles of flowers as you went, weaving and braiding them together into a crown. You had already made one for yourself, and Fili and Kili were quite invested in your creative, colorful craft.

"Where did you learn to create such things?" Fili asked as he watched you bend down, snatching up another flower from the grassy ground.

You shrugged, tying off another flower, "In Hobbiton, of course, Fili, dear," You began, fixing some of the flowers before continuing, "In originality, my mother taught me." You finished, weaving another flower into the crown.

"How does one make such intricate designs?" Kili then asked, twisting the stem of a flower between his fingers in thought. 

You smiled back at him, "Well, it is quite simple, Kili, dear," You began, "You just have to braid the stems of the flowers together. Simple really." You answered, spying on Dwalin near the front of the line - just behind Thorin, you glanced over at the two Princes' beside you, "I'll be just a moment." You spoke before jogging over.

Your smile widened as you matched Dwalin's pace once by his side. Looking over and up at him, he didn't acknowledge your presence. It never bothered you, him ignoring you... You understood that Dwalin was not the type of person to just chit-chat, especially when there were bigger things to do and worry about. Lonely Mountain speaking. 

Finishing the flower crown in your hands, you offered it up to the Dwarf, a bright smile on your face. "I made this for you." You explained softly, the flower crown - made of yellow, white, and red wildflowers - sitting in your hands. 

Dwaling stopped, and so did the rest of the Company. You suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over you - all eyes on the two of you - watching as Dwalin slowly turned his head to look down at you, to the crown, and back. And for a moment, you thought that you saw something flash in his eyes, something that wasn’t brooding, determined, or angry. You swallowed, finding yourself unable to take your eyes off his, your ears and cheeks burning as he grumbled and huffed through his nose. You were confused, your hope and happiness dwindling - your hands lowering slowly - as Dwalin turned and continued walking. 

Fully dropping your hands to your sides, you watched him go; feeling completely rejected. You knew that it was stupid. It was just a flower crown... And yet, you still held onto it with all of your heart, clutching it tightly in your hand; unintentionally crushing the flowers beneath your fingers. What did you do wrong? You just wanted him to like you... Tears stung in your eyes, but you refused to cry in front of everyone. 

The rest of the Company soon passed you, some giving you sympathetic smiles, some patting you on your shoulder or back. Fili and Kili stopped beside you, Kili frowning softly, as Fili gave you a pat on the top of your head; careful not to disturb the flower crown on your head. 

"Don't worry, Miss Y/N," Fili spoke, "He'll come around."

Kili nodded, "I assure you, he will." He let out a small chuckle, but you knew he wasn’t laughing at you. That was just him.

You nodded, doubting, but saying nothing more as they turned and followed the group; Bilbo finally coming over. "I'm alright." You muttered, looking up at him. You knew that he was going to ask you if you were alright.

"I'm sorry, Y/N..."

You shook your head, "No, it's okay." You whispered softly, trying to give him the best smile you could give him to ease his worries, "I don't know why I am so caught up in this... I must understand that I'm not really everyone's cup of tea. Not everyone wants to be my friend. If he doesn't want to be friends with me... Then, that's alright." You explained softly. Bilbo stared at you for a long moment before you began walking, dropping the flower crown to the ground. 

~~~

The night was cold, the stars shining brightly down from the sky as you huddled close to Bilbo; next to the fire. It was hard to sleep, still not fully used to sleeping on the woodland ground, but you were getting there. And, soon, you found yourself drifting off to sleep.

Dwalin, on the other hand, having the first night watch, stared into the fire before him. It was quiet, aside from the fire crackling and the crickets chirping. Dwalin seemed to be lost inside his own mind, his eyebrows furrowed, and dark eyes narrowed in thought. Hearing a small grunt and feeling the log under him move slightly, Dwalin glanced over to see Balin sitting beside him. Balin hummed lowly, staring at the fire, rubbing the palms of his hands together.

"She didn't know, Dwalin." He spoke softly, not wanting to wake the others from their sleep, and only getting a deep mumble from his younger brother; at the mention of you, Dwalin's eyes flickered from the fire to your sleeping figure; curled up beside Bilbo. "She does not know of our courtship rituals. I should’ve told her more about our culture." Again, getting nothing from Dwalin, Balin continued, "She only wishes you to speak to her. You have hardly spoken a word to her since leaving Bilbo's home." He stared at his brother's side profile, "You can confide in me, brother."

Dwalin continued his silence, his eyes falling upon you once more. He was conflicted. Ever since he saw you enter the dining room of Bilbo's Hobbit hole, Dwalin had been unable to stop thinking about you. The way you moved and talked... Your features were sharp, yet delicate, your lips pouting, and your hair flowing. You were kind, bright, and soft; everything Dwalin wasn't. Dwalin was rough and tough. He had scars, he had seen death, and he had seen suffering. But, you... He had never seen someone as beautiful as you. You were different. Dwalin sighed deeply, looking away from you. He didn't know how to approach you; he couldn't bring himself to act on his feelings. 

But he knew that you were his One.

He knew the moment he saw you. 

Dwalin hated being vulnerable, and he hated admitting anything to anyone. So he sat, his jaw clenched tight, trying his hardest to fight his growing feelings for you. 

"She's my One." Dwalin found himself muttering, far too quiet for most to hear, but Balin heard.

A knowing smile graced his oldened features. "I presumed so." Balin spoke with a hum, "I can only... Advise that you should speak to her. She cares for you. I am sure that she would understand." Balin stated, before letting out a small sigh, standing, "Think about it, will you?" And with that, Balin found his sleep sack, rolling into it and falling asleep.

Dwalin stayed awake much longer into the night, contemplating his decision as he waited for Gloin to take over the night watch. His older brother's words echoed throughout his head, and with a deep gruff, he let his eyes stray from the fire; the light making his eyes burn slightly. His eyes flickered from around the woods that surrounded him, to the Company before finding the stars and the moon in the sky, and finally... Back to you.

You, in your sleep, muttered something softly, unnoticeable. He watched as you rolled to your side, shivering, your hand pulling the fur blanket closer to you. Dwalin's eyes lingered on you, his mouth slightly agape before he snapped his gaze away. Feeling a wave of frustration towards himself, Dwalin's gaze landed on his sleep role. 

~~~

The next morning, you woke up to a bright blue sky, filled with white, fluffy clouds. You let out a sigh, eyelids fluttering as you shifted slightly and let out a breath. You groaned lightly before freezing. Your fingers brushed against the fur blanket over you, feeling the coarseness of the material. It was warm. Very warm.

Your eyebrows furrowed; confused. You opened one eye, squinting at the bright sun that was peaking above the tree canopies. Slowly turning over onto your back, you sat up, looking down at the blanket... Or should you say... Blankets?

You stared down at the fur blanket, that was not your own, before flipping the fur up, spying your fur blanket underneath. This second fur blanket - which wasn't yours - was a deep brown color, with little bits of white. Who gave you this last night? Were you really that cold last night that one of the Dwarves had given you their blanket out of kindness or pity? You felt a sense of gratitude fill your chest. Looking down at the furry blanket, you couldn't help but let out a smile. 

Looking up, you let your eyes survey the small camp, hopping from Dwarf to Dwarf until they settled on one. Dwalin. A wave of warmth passed over you, watching as he packed his sleep role away and into his pack. As Dwalin stood to leave, he glanced over at you, meeting your gaze for a brief moment; before quickly darting his eyes away, going over to Thorin. 

You felt the corners of your lips twitch slightly, a frown threatening to form on your face as you looked at Dwalin's retreating back. Did he hate you? Did he find you annoying? All these questions ran through your head, but you only huffed, getting up from your sleep role. You were not going to let Dwalin's behavior towards you sour your mood. Today was a beautiful day, and you wanted to savor it. 

~~~

You couldn't see, and all you could feel was the feeling of falling. You felt as if you were wrapped in something. It was tight around you, almost suffocating. Anxiety washed over you, gripping your heart painfully as your lungs begged for air. But you could hardly breathe. You needed to breathe, but you were trapped. You clawed at the sticky white substance that surrounded you, trying to rip it and free yourself, but you were not strong enough. You felt like giving up, though you knew you couldn't, but as you clawed at the sticky film, you could finally hear what was going on outside of the cocoon. You could hear the Dwarves yelling, yelling about spiders. 

Before you could do anything else, someone from the outside ripped open your cocoon. You blinked rapidly at the slight change of light, finding yourself back in the creepy woods. A large hand reached out to you and you quickly grabbed it, the person behind the strong hand pulling you up with force. Stumbling slightly, you felt slightly dazed, the hand still in yours as you found yourself in a giant spider fight. 

As you stood amidst the chaotic scene of giant spiders attacking the Company, your heart raced with fear and adrenaline. Eyes unable to leave the giant spiders - tunnel-vision - you gripped the hand in yours; giving you slight reassurance. The air was filled with the sounds of battle - the clang of weapons, the hiss of the spiders, and the shouts of the Dwarves. You could feel the sticky strands of webbing brush against your skin as you dodged and weaved through the throng of arachnids. You felt gross and dirty; and for the first time since the start of this long journey to The Lonely Mountain, you missed your Hobbit home.

With each passing moment, the fight intensified, the odds seemingly stacked against you and the Company. Your wide eyes danced around you, trying to spot Bilbo, but you couldn't find him. You wanted to yell out, to shout, but as your mouth opened, no words came out. There was an odd buzzing noise in your ears, your heart was beating loudly in your chest; harsh against your ribcage. Only then, did you look at the person who held you so close to them. You thought it couldn't have been Kili or Fili, but you spotted the two Princes when you lifted your gaze. Looking down at the hand that held yours, you felt your racing heart freeze for just a moment; an auditable hitch escaped your throat, but you didn't dare utter a sound. 

Standing in front of you and holding your hand tightly in his own was none other than Dwalin. You knew it was him. You knew those tattoos. Trailing up his muscular arm, you were finally met with the side of his face. His expression was hardened as he held his weapon tightly in his other hand. Aside from the anxiety and nervousness that had overcome you, you were incredibly impressed. Dwalin, with one hand, fought off giant spiders, whilst also keeping you perfectly safe. 

At the sound of something coming from up in the trees, you looked up, watching as no more than two dozen elves jumped to the ground, taking out the last of the large, monstrous spiders from around you. One of the Elves spoke to another, you noted her red hair as they spoke in Elvish. You wished that you could understand them. Your awe of them quickly diminished when they drew their weapons, arrows drawn and at the ready; circling around you and the Company. Soon, they demanded your weapons, and before you knew it, all the Dwarves were weaponless. 

"What about her?" One Elven guard asked in a demanding tone. Your eyes lifted up, finding the guard staring down at you. "Hand whatever you have over instantly." He demanded, holding out his hand, only for Dwalin's hand in yours to tighten slightly, gently pushing you behind him.

"She bears no weapons, Elf." He spoke in his deep, gruff, disgruntled voice. The Elf stared down at Dwalin for a moment before staring right back down at you, with a sniff and a small 'humph' he turned away. 

The blonde Elf, the one that you believed to be in charge of the whole group, yelled out something in Elvish, and before you knew it, you and your Dwarven friends were being pushed along, being led to hopefully, not your doom. Passing Thorin, you looked at him with pleading eyes, "Thorin, where's Bilbo?" Only for your answer to be unanswered. 

Your hand never left Dwalin's, your free, unoccupied hand found his arm; the skin upon skin contact grounded you, allowing you to calm yourself ever so slightly. You finally took a chance to look around, finding the forest opening, revealing a stone bridge. Pillars, beautifully carved, gave way to the entrance of Mirkwood, the Elven Kingdom. You wished you had the time to admire the architecture of the kingdom, but, sadly, you did not. Before you knew it you were being tossed into a cell.  

A hand fell upon your shoulder, pulling you to the side, your hands falling from Dwalin's. "Dwalin!" You called out, trying to reach for him, but you were soon shoved into a cell. Stumbling over your feet, you braced yourself on the rock interior of the cell. Hearing the heavy cell door close behind you, you snapped your head up; feeling exhausted, mentally and physically, but you pushed yourself forward. Your hands curled around the bars, trying to look at the cells beside yours. The sound of the now-captured Dwarves - yelling and complaining. 

"Miss Y/N!" Fili yelled out, only a few cells away from yours, "Are you alright!?"

"I'm fine!" You called back, "Is everyone else alright?"

Most, if not all, of the Dwarves, replied with various 'ayes’. You sighed in relief, closing your eyes; the chill of the cell door refreshing on your forehead. 

Sitting on the floor - you felt the hours pass you by slowly - you pressed the back of your head against the wall; tired. "I wager the sun is on the rise. Must be nearly dawn." Bofur called out, his voice echoing throughout. Your eyes fluttered open, a yawn leaving your parched mouth. 

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori asked, sounding resigned, making you sigh.

"Don't fret, Ori, dearest." You spoke up, sounding a bit resigned yourself, but you were determined to keep everyone's spirits high. "We'll make it." You continued, looking out of your cell door, "We will." With that said, you stood up from the ground, wincing as pain shot through your legs. Looking down, you noticed a rip in your trousers that you replaced your usual dress with. Pushing the ripped fabric to the side, you then noticed a red substance that trailed down your leg; coming from a small scratch on your calf. "Well," You spoke up, clearing your throat. "I may have been slightly injured."

Simultaneously, the Dwarves began to talk. Their voices became louder, some with more worry and concern. "Miss Y/N, you are injured!?" You heard Fili call from his cell.

"Yes, tis but a scratch." You explained, hoping the Dwarves would stop fussing over you. You weren't a damsel in distress. You were strong, even with a bloody scratch. "But worry not, dearest Dwarves, it's nothing I can't handle."

"You won't have to handle it for long." You heard, eyes widening - mimicking your bright smile - as Bilbo appeared at your cell door, holding the keys. 

~~~

When you joined the Company on their journey, you did not expect that you'd trick goblins, climb bit trees, fly on eagles, fight giant spiders, and barrel ride down a raging river. This was certainly an adventure that you'd go through again, minus the goblins and giant spiders; you'd love to fly with the eagles again.

Somehow, you survived, floating down the raging river, your clothes all sopping wet, and river water dripping from your hair. As all of your barrels fell down a waterfall, you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Behind you, you could hear the laughter of some of the dwarves. For a moment, you forgot about your injuries; and the exhaustion that was seeping into every fiber of your body. Your hands tightened your grip on the railing of the barrel, praying for it to not capsize or tip over, your fingers growing numb with cold. You tried desperately to ignore what was going on around you. Smelling the fresh air, and hearing the birds chirping above you, almost made you forget everything else.

But at the sound of a horn, you were quickly snapped out of your head, watching as the suited Elves began to shut the gate; the only way to escape. All joy, and a sense of freedom, flew right out of the window. You all collided with each other at the closed gate, you huffed, glaring up at the Elven guards before your eyes caught sight of an arrow flying through the air, and into one of the guards. 

"Orcs!" You yelled out, gesturing up at the guards, as the one that was shot fell into the water below; almost hitting you. "Why does it always have to be orcs?"

You dodged the best you could when dead elves and dead orcs fell into the water, along with dodging arrows, and over-confidant orcs that tried to swing at your head. 

You were about to call for Bilbo, but when you turned your head, you watched as your brother stabbed a sword into an orc, defending one of the dwarves. 

"Miss Y/N!" Ori cried out, making you look over to him, only for him to point above you. 

You looked up, your eyes widening at an orc - dead - began falling towards you. Unable to move, almost frozen in fear, you squeezed your eyes shut and shielded yourself with your arms, only for your barrel to be pushed back and out of the way. You opened your eyes, blinking them rapidly as the river water splashed in your face. Looking over, you just saw a glimpse of Dwalin turning back around. Despite the obvious danger that you were all in, you wondered what you could do for Dwalin since he had saved your life twice now. 

Turning your eyes to the side, you watched as Kili ran up the side of the stone top of the gate, you covered your mouth as an arrow flew through the air and hit him in the leg. Fili cried out of this younger brother, as Kili then opened the gate, and fell into an empty barrel. 

Falling down, yet another waterfall, smaller than the last, you pushed your wet hair from your face, only to grip the barrel with as much force as you could; the raging, white-foaming waters continued. Looking to your side slightly, you watched as Bilbo held onto a barrel, holding onto the sideway barrel, his own death-like grip. You felt a small bit of relief, seeing him safe. You, and the Company, continued down the river, and the longer you tried not to tip over and drown, the more you wished that you weren't in the freezing waters. 

Finally, the raging stopped, and the river was calm. Leaning over slightly in the barrel, you brushed your hands in the freezing water, moving your barrel forward slowly, but carefully. 

"Make for the shore!" Thorin yelled out, receiving some 'ayes' in return.

Pushing your barrel forward, you pressed your cheek against the rim of the barrel, your eyes drooping slightly as you continued to push yourself toward the shore. Your barrel soon hit the rocks, and you used the rest of your strength to get out of it, climbing up onto the rocks; completely soaked. You trudged up the rocks, wrapping your arms around yourself as you mentally counted those around you, counting fourteen. Mentally, you could rest.

Feeling a hand on your upper arm, you looked to the side, seeing your brother Bilbo. Just his presence made you give him a small smile, seeing the worry in his eyes. "I'm alright." You spoke to him, wanting to reassure him, "I'm just cold."

At the surprise of meeting Bard, the human, you sort of let your brain shut off. You felt your feet move as you followed the Dwarves to Bard's boat. You felt yourself sitting down in the corner next to Bilbo, and hiding from Alfrid, but you were far from the present. You were so tired, mentally and physically, that you let your mind quiet, letting yourself only fade back into the world you knew once you felt the warm fire at your feet.

"Wee lass hasn't spoken since the Elves." You heard a hushed voice, it was Bofur. 

You pressed your legs closer to yourself, staring into the flames. The clothing you were given, having been one of Bard's daughters, was warm; the fabric soft - your fingers toyed with the soft material. 

"Is she alright?" Ori asked worriedly, only for Bilbo to nod, crossing his arms. 

"She's alright. She had told me so." Thorin only gave you a short glance before turning back to Bard. 

Dwalin, with his arms crossed, turned to look at you, staring at your side profile. Glancing over at the table that Bilbo sat at, Dwalin said nothing, walking over to the table and grabbing a plate. Bilbo, in turn, watched as Dwalin filled the plate with a few potatoes, two small tomatoes, and a small slice of bread. 

Your eyes picked up the sound of heavy footfalls coming towards you, and at the sight of a plate coming into your field of vision, you moved your head to look up. As you looked at Dwalin, his face stoic as usual, you couldn't help but smile. Taking the plate, your fingers briefly brushed against his.

"Thank you, Dwalin." You spoke softly, but before he could slink away, you grabbed his hand, stopping him. For a moment, you thought back to when he held your hand so tightly - protectively - in the Mirkwood forests. "Thank you for saving me. Twice." You smiled at him softly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "And I apologize if I had anything to upset you, or make you uncomfortable." He glanced over at you, then down at your hand which was wrapped around his. He didn't remove his hand from yours, giving you the same squeeze that you had received from him earlier today. 

Dwalin stared at your hand in his, his jaw clenching before he looked back to you, his eyes softening. "You did not, dorzada." He spoke gruffly, “Eat.” He finished before leaving your side, your hand dropping from his. 

You looked down at your plate of food, your stomach grumbling and spinning, as your mind wandered. Picking up the slice of bread, you bit down on it, thinking about the word that Dwalin called you. You wondered what it meant. 

~~~

"Oin, stay with Kili." Thorin commanded as the rest of the Dwarves began to gather their things. Without being told, Fili stayed by his brother's side. 

"I want to come too." You spoke, grabbing a random weapon from the wooden table.

Dwalin quickly turned, staring down at you, "It will be too dangerous for you, lass."

You huffed, lightly glaring up at the Dwarf, "I have fought trolls, orcs, what have you." You pointed out, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "I want to fight."

"This is against us Dwarves and the dragon." He grumbled, his hand taking a hold of the weapon in yours. "You'll die before the beast does."

"I'm already dying anyway," You shrugged, looking back down at your weapon, "From the moment we're born, we're dying. So, what is the point? I want to help."

Dwalin breathed out of his nose as he took hold of your other hand, "No, no, lass, you are staying here, with Kili, while the rest of us fight."

"Are you telling me, or are you commanding me, Dwalin?" You asked, voice becoming soft as his eyes bored into your own. "Do as you wish then," You sighed when receiving no answer, letting go of his hands, "But please, do not die." 

Dwalin humphed, the corners of his lips just twisting up into a small grin, and for a moment, you were stunned. Dwalin was smiling. "Don't worry," He spoke. "I won't." His gaze softened, as he stepped back from you, "Be safe, lass." With that, he started to walk away, only for you to grab his arm and stop him. You didn't say anything else, merely pulling him close to you.

You felt him tense in your abrupt embrace before his one hand, not holding his weapon, circled you. But, it all ended too soon, as he pulled back from you, nodding to you before turning his attention to the group, as they set off to The Lonely Mountain. 

Your shoulders sagged when the door closed, a small pout upon your lips, "Do not fret, Miss Y/N," Fili spoke from beside his brother as you turned to look over at the four Dwarves - Kili, Fili, Bofur, and Oin. "They will return."

You let out a sigh, looking out at the window. A fuzzy feeling rose within your chest, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself. After watching them disappear into the distance, the sun went to sleep, "I know."

#cute #fluff #x reader #slight angst #fanfiction #fanfic #x female reader #x you #x y/n #request #requested #requested by anon #the hobbit #hobbit #the hobbit dwalin #dwalin #dwalin x reader #dwalin x female reader #dwalin x fem!reader #dwalin x you #dwalin x y/n #x bilbo's sister #bilbo sister #tolkien #angst #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader

[v1olentdelights]

Too Late For Tea?

Company x reader, bilbo x reader, kind of a little bit fili x reader. Female reader

TW: nothing? Let me know if there is, though!

Summary: Hopefully, being 5 minutes late qualifies as just on time for the group of ruffians.

a/n: Hopefully, this is written well! I hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to request anything! Also, I'm pretty sure the song is from HTTYD? I can't really remember

Knock, knock, knock

Bilbo had just gotten comfortable for his afternoon tea. It was 3:05

"I swear if it’s that Brandyfoot again…" Much to his surprise, it was not ‘that Brandyfoot’ but an old friend. The look of utter shock that crosses his face is almost hysterical.

"Y/N? What -" he lets out a scuff of disbelief."What are you doing here?" It had been many months since their trek to Erebor. You had been brought along as a healer. You had minor magical abilities, being able to mend gashes and such or help one hold on a bit longer when close to death. It also helped that you had been training and experimenting in natural healing processes.

It was a miracle that Gandalf had decided to bring you, seeing as you had saved the King and the Princes. Bilbo had practically jumped at you after Thorin began to breathe again. They all had been singing your praise, but Bilbo was the loudest of all. You had saved part of his newfound family.

Though they say they could never truly repay you, they did invite you to work in Erebor under the best conditions. To be the royals personal healer while providing you with the proper supplies and protection when you left to study new plants for antidotes.

It was in those early days that Bilbo and y/n would write to each other often, but soon 6 days between letters became weeks, which became months. And without contact for many a month, could it be possible that…

No, no, he couldn’t have. Right? Was Bilbo forgetting them?

"Well, you said tea time was at 3, and we were always invited. I hope the offer still stands and that we aren't too late." A timid smile crossed your face as you waited for Bilbo's response.

"Of course! I cannot believe we have lost contact, you must-" the realization crossed his face "we?"

"Surprise!" 13 other voices joined, causing the hobbit to step back a bit in surprise. Everyone pushed into the hobbit hole, hugging or patting his shoulder. Bilbo was stunned at the affection. He had forgotten what it was like to be surrounded by the lively group. You stood back watching all the men, for some reason it almost brought tears to your eyes, their little found family was back together.

A few of the dwarves - Bofur, Dwalin, Nori, and Gloin - stepped out to tug in a few large bags.

"We thought we would bring the feast to you this time.” Balin smiled as everyone began unpacking in the kitchen.

—- — —- —-

You all had gathered around the hobbits table, every plate full to the brim, ale (and tea) filled the cups. The loud laughter and conversations brought you back to that fateful night, though this time Bilbo was engaged and was actually laughing.

“So then we went to the forges, and there was this lass just standing there at my station!” Nori shouted with a hearty laugh. “And I was beginning to worry she was lost. But when I asked her for a name, she said ‘Dana, Dana Buffer.’ She is the best smith in Moria!”

All of the dwarves were catching up with one another and catching Bilbo up. It seemed as though nothing had changed. Then there was a sudden knock on the door, for a moment everyone stilled before Bilbo rose to answer it.

“To think I wasn’t even invited to the reunion of our dear group.” Gandalf the Grey had arrived fashionably late, just like always. He quickly took a seat next to Thorin, who was next to Bilbo, and tuned into all the conversations.

"So, Gandalf, where have you been off to? Learning yet another fashionable way to exhale your friend Old Toby?" Fili had joked.

"Why yes, and I was accompanied by a friend." He replied sincerely

"Friend? I thought we were your friends, Gandalf." Kili said, to an outsider it would seem he was truly hurt. Though you knew better, you all did.

"All have you know, I have many friends. Ones who are much kinder and wiser than the lot of you combined!"

Of course, the old man was joking, though you did wonder who exactly had kept his company after the battle.

The festivities carried into the late evening, which was then filled with songs, Fili and Kili on the fiddles, Nori and Ori on the flutes, and the rest filling the room with their voices.

"For the darling y/n," Bifur winked at you. The lot of them began a small jig, given the space of the living room (even with all the furniture moved).

My dearest one, my darling dear

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need for mighty deeds

When I feel your arms around me

But I would bring you rings of gold

I'd even sing you poetry (oh, would you?)

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me

And before you knew it, you were up singing and dancing alongside them. Linking arms while swirling around.

I have no use for rings of gold

I care not for your poetry

I only want your hand to hold

I only want you near me

To love and kiss to sweetly hold

For the dancing and the dreaming

Through all life's sorrows

And delights

To many of the company, you had become like a sibling. You couldn't help but laugh at the meaning behind the song you had helped craft for them to impress some dwarrowdams.Though your one saw you as something more, the both of you sneaking many glances throughout your dance.

I'll keep your laugh inside me

I'll swim and sail a savage seas

With never a fear of drowning

I'd gladly ride the waves so white

And you will marry me!

As the song ended you found yourself plopping on the ground, panting from the exertion of energy. Bilbo had been watching and humming along, though he noticed the stares between you and Fili. However before he could question you, the dwarves began another song.

----

By the end of the night, it was just you and Bilbo left in the living room. Gandalf had excused himself quite a bit ago, saying he had some business to attend to. The rest of the company had either fallen asleep or had simply drifted to their own rooms in a little guest hobbit hole Bilbo had made.

"Come y/n, I have something I want to show you." He gently grabbed your hand before leading you out the door and around the little hill in which his house was built. Nearby, far enough to not damage his hobbit hole, but close enough to enjoy was a tree. It had not fully grown yet, though it was still fairly mature.

"What is this?" You asked as you marveled at the beautiful leaves.

"It's the acorn. Or I guess from the acorn. It grew slowly and healthily. Now it is something beautiful." He had a knowing smile on his face.

"Well, I'm sure it took quite a bit of work and time to make sure it grew properly."

"That it did. Here I have a seat." He pulled you to sit next to him on a little bench next to the trunk of the tree. "Tell me." He said.

"Well, you knew about the feelings harboring about halfway through the journey." He simply nodded his head in acknowledgment."It was just that for a long time after… just feelings. But I knew it was more, I knew that he was my One after I felt the life leaving his body." You felt a shiver run down your spine at the mere thought of losing him. "After the battle, I found the courage to tell him." With that Bilbo’s face lit up.

You and the hobbit had formed a special bond due to you being outsiders to the company. There was no doubt in your mind that you both would be good friends even after the mission was complete. Therefore, you confided in him about these conflicting feelings. He continually urged you to tell the dwarf of your affection, but you held it in. You could never forgive yourself if it had ended up distracting him or, even worse, destroyed the friendship you had begun to make.

“And?” It was funny, Bilbo seemed almost more invested in your love life than you did.

“Well…” you reached up into your hair and pulled it aside to show off your courting braid. Then, the most surprising yet most wonderful thing happened. Bilbo giggled and clapped his hands before crushing you in a hug.

“You did it! I am so proud of you!” Your heart felt full. Bilbo rose and jumped a tiny bit with joy “We must make something to celebrate this!”

“NO!” The yell was a surprise to you. “I mean- we haven’t told the others yet. You can’t say anything.” You reached out to grab his hand, “Please.”

“Very well, but you know they are going to find out sooner than later, right?"

"Yes, yes, we know. Kili already knows, and I'm sure half them suspect it. Did you see the show they put on this evening?" You laughed.

"You make a fine couple. Both complement each other well. I'm happy for you." It was a simple statement, but since you hadn't exactly gone public with the whole thing, such a simple comment went a long way. He smiled at you warmly before patting your leg and standing up.

"Well, we best be getting to bed. And what a sad day it is that I happen to be short a bed for you, looks as though you must have to share with someone." Before you could comment he had skipped inside.

Oh, how you missed your family, and oh, how happy you were to be reunited.

#grace writes #lotr x reader #the hobbit oneshot #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit #fili x reader #fili and kili #the company x reader #lotr fandom #lotr imagine #fili durin #fili durin x reader #bilbo baggins x reader #lord of the rings #lord of the rings imagine

[finnofamerica]

Insatiable - Dwalin X Reader X Thorin | Smut

Summary: In an effort to break up the monotony of your and Dwalin's sex life, the two of you agree to bring in a third for a night. Who is better than Dwalin's best friend?

Word Count: 1,976

Date Posted: 05.28.2023

TW: AFAB Language used, threesome, double penetration, mentions of somnophilia, anal, spitroast, oral, bondage (cuffs), Blindfolds.

Note: This is a D/s fic. Remember that kink is customizable, and there is no right way to do it as long as you’re keeping safe. We play here by Safe, Sane, and Consensual, but there is also Risk Aware Consensual Kink and Personal Responsibility, Informed Consensual Kink. Don’t yuck anyone’s yum; I am willing to answer any questions that I can.

🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞

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You were sure that everyone in Erebor knew of your husband’s appetite. His hunger was rivaled only by Bombur, though Dwalin worked it off in his battle training with the Kingsguard. When you were making the rounds with your deliveries, you loved to sit and watch all the handsome dwarves train. Your eyes always find their way back to your handsome husband. Though your absolute favorite days what Thorin and Dwalin’s “private” trainings, spectators including Thorin’s nephews and yourself. While you harbored no feelings for Thorin beyond the fondness of a good friend, you’d have to be blind not to be attracted to him. The two of them were often shirtless during their training sessions, and you had the opportunity to ogle the muscles on them both.  

You knew your husband bragged about you to his friends. You’d have to be deaf not to hear it because the man was neither subtle nor discreet. You knew he’d brag about having a woman who bakes because “The sweeter she eats, the sweeter she tastes.” You didn’t mind this, though it caused women to look at you with envy and most of the men to do the same with Dwalin. His bragging had turned your cunt into some mystical rumor that you were sure would be passed down through the ages until the rumor became legend. 

“Dwalin,” You rubbed the man’s shoulders after a long day of training. It was almost an act of worship the way that you knew he protected you. “I would like to try something different.” 

“Different, how?”

“Well, husband, it’s not that I’m disappointed with our lovemaking, it’s just that I’ve come to know what to expect, and we keep repeating the same patterns. I just think it would be nice to switch it up every now and again.” 

“Like adding another? I’ve seen the way that you eye Thorin during our training. I don’t think he’s enjoyed the love of a woman in many years, long before Smaug.” Dwalin suggested. 

“You know I don’t feel for Thorin.” 

“All the better. I won’t have to worry about his kingly ass stealing you from me. Would you like to invite Thorin in some time?”

From then on, Dwalin had his lips sealed. None of your efforts to coax the information out of him worked. He refused to tell you when Thorin would be joining your bedroom affairs. Nearly a full season had passed since the night you suggested bringing it up, and you worried that Dwalin had forgotten. 

The chill of winter soaked deep into the mountain that hardly even the forge furnaces could fight. The well-crafted living quarters were nice and toasty, and their fireplaces were well-stocked with wood from Tranduil’s domain. The fires burnt with the smell of nutmeg and allspice, hailing in the holidays when families gathered and feasted on slow-roasted boar. 

You dressed in one of your favorite outfits, heading down to the bakery where you worked alongside dwarven masters. They were initially unsure of a hobbit in their kitchens, but after a heaping batch of your lemon poppyseed scones, they changed their minds and welcomed you heartily. Given the holiday season, the kitchens were plenty busy preparing for the King’s Yuleblot ball. The bakers, the tailors, and all the chefs were quite busy preparing all the orders as Balin and Fili ran around making sure their shipments from across middle earth were in order. 

When Bunty, the head baker, came in with a cupcake just for you, you realized it was your birthday. You’d been so busy that you’d forgotten. Dwalin had forgotten. He’d never forgotten your birthday in all the years you’d been together. Normally he’d wake you up with his tongue; this morning, you’d woken up alone.

Dejected and beaten by a long day of baking, you’d managed to drag yourself back to your and Dwalin’s shared living space. You swung the heavy door open; Dwalin stood there naked as the day he was born. His impressive cock hung heavy between his thighs. 

“Dwalin!” You squealed, covering your eyes as your face heated. “Oh, stop this shying. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” Dwalin spun you around, landing a swift slap to your ass.  He leaned down, relaxing you with his lips against your neck, kissing and biting along the way. “Strip and lay on the bed.” 

You didn’t have to be told twice to obey your husband’s direction. It was your honor to serve him as long as he continued to spoil you with his loving caress. He treated you like you were his goddess, regularly bringing you gifts and telling anyone and every one of your beauty. Dwalin kissed every inch of your naked body as he locked you in cuffs expertly crafted just for you. A gift for your anniversary.

You’d always heard of dwarves’ insatiable appetite. You hadn’t expected their sexual appetite to be just as insatiable. You could almost swear that you’d been in this room for days, locked in these special dwarven cuffs lined with fur. Dwalin spent his sweet time driving your anticipation through the roof, teasing you relentlessly with all the tools in his arsenal.

You whined, arching your back as a warm tongue and cool breath licked along your pussy. The light grazes of his beard scratching delightfully against your thighs. One wide calloused palm pushed against your lower stomach, increasing the sensation of the fingers stroking inside of you. Your lover knew every inch of your body but still took his time exploring every nook and cranny. 

A hand gently caressed your cheek, turning your face to the edge of the bed. 

“Come on, Darling, open up,” Dwalin coaxed you, making it abundantly clear that it was not your husband eating you out. You let your mouth fall open with a light moan. The fact that Dawlin was sharing you was even hotter than when he’d mentioned wanting to try it one day.  

The tip of his thick cock touched your lips, glossing salty precum over them. Slowly he fucked your mouth, warming you up as he edged closer and closer to the back of your throat. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Dwalin moaned, making whoever was between your legs chuckle. The vibration around your clit made you whine, arching further against his lips, hoping to increase your pleasure. 

“And tastes good, too,” The dwarf between your legs remarked, sounding pleased. His voice was so familiar, yet you couldn’t place it. You were too overcome with pleasure to care right now. You moaned around Dwalin’s cock; the overwhelming urge to please both men filled you. 

“Indeed,” Dwalin grunted, “Always happy to be used for her husband’s pleasure.” 

They were talking about you like you weren’t in the room, and you could practically feel yourself drip around the mystery dwarf’s fingers. 

“Such a greedy little cunt. May I fuck her, Dwalin?” 

“Aye, though you may never want any other pussy after.” 

The man between your legs slowly removed his fingers, noisily slurping up your juices. You heard the rustling of clothing being removed and thick, calloused hands adjusting your chained-up legs, so he could fit himself between them. His thick cock stretched you out as he slowly slid himself inside, making you gasp around the cock burying itself in your throat. 

Once the mystery man was fully seated inside you, he slowly pulled out until just his tip was still inside you, only to slam himself back into you. You squealed at the ferocity of it. He was fucking you like a man starved of this affection. Every stroke hits your G-spot, creating that familiar tightening sensation in your core. 

“That’s it, Amralimé,” Dwalin removed his saliva-coated cock from your mouth, allowing you to moan freely, volume increasing threefold. Lips attached themselves to your nipple, both the mystery man and Dwalin focusing their attention on your pleasure. “Are you gonna cum on his cock?” 

“Yes,” You whined, back arching, trying everything you could to increase your pleasure. “Please, may I?” 

“You may cum for your King.” 

Thorin?! It was clear to you now who the voice belonged to, and you wondered why you hadn’t placed it sooner. There was no one that Dwalin would trust with his wife other than his best friend. Your pussy quivered before releasing an explosion of pleasure through you. 

“That’s a good girl,” Thorin cooed in your ear as you clenched around him, hips twitching. You panted, collapsing back against the bed. 

“Oh, we’re not done with you yet,” Dwalin threatened you with a good time, the clinking of the cuffs being released from around your ankles. The two men gently flipped you over so you were on all fours. 

“You were right,” Thorin remarked, “I think this lady has ruined a world of pussy for me.” 

“Take her ass, Thorin. You’ll never know anything tighter.” 

Dwalin settled himself beneath you, easily supporting your weight as Thorin eased himself into your tight ass. It hurt, at first, a lot. Your tears were being absorbed by your silken blindfold. The whole time Dwalin comforted you through the pain, telling you what a good job you were doing and how good a girl you were being. 

After a beat, the pain eased as your tight ass got used to being stretched out around such a thick cock. Thorin slowly began to thrust his cock in and out of your ass as Dwalin lined himself up with the entrance of your pussy, using Thorin’s tempo to ease himself inside. The feeling of two cocks inside you was damn near overwhelming. It was otherwordly. It had you flying so high into blissful pleasure that you never wanted to come down. 

“Fuck, she’s tight,” Thorin groaned, thrusts growing uneven. Each of their mismatched thrusts made you moan and squeal. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, accompanied by whimpering moans and grunts. “And I might’ve thought you were wrong for marrying a hobbit.” 

“I told you she felt better than any dwarven lass you’d find.” Dwalin had been bragging about his wife from the moment he’d met you. He knew that you were the one for him, and your sweet pussy was just a bonus. 

The playful ribbing was lost on your ears. You could swear that you ascended to the next world. The two made fine use of your holes, surely reaching ascension themselves.

“Fuck, I’m gonna breed her sweet ass,” Thorin grunted, trying his best to maintain a steady pace. He didn’t want to blow his load too soon. Besides, he knew better than to breed another man’s woman without permission. 

“Aye, have her ass. She’ll not be pregnant by you either way.” 

Thorin’s hips stuttered as he gripped yours, burying himself deep within your ass. You could feel his cock twitch as he spilled his load. Dwalin followed suit, moaning your name as he filled you with his seed. It was any wonder how he’d not gotten you pregnant by now. 

They both slowly eased themselves out of you, and unable to support yourself any longer, you collapsed on your husband’s chest. He pulled down your blindfold, allowing you to gaze upon his gruff, handsome face. Dwalin unlocked your cuffs, kissing both of your wrists and holding you tightly, while Thorin when to warm a wet rag and clean up the semen that was dripping out of you. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you chose Thorin.” You remarked sleepily, exhaustion now seeping through your over-expended body. Thorin gently pressed the rag to your pussy, then your anus, the heat easing the dull ache the men had left behind. 

“Well, someone needed to get him laid,” Dwalin chuckled heartily. 

“Happy birthday, Miss Y/n.” Thorin finished dressing, leaving Dwalin to tend to you for the rest of the night. 

“Happy Birthday, Amralimé”

Tags: OPEN

#dwalin x reader #dwalin x reader x thorin #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #the hobbit x reader #05.28.23 #Dwalin x reader smut #thorin x reader smut #dwalin x reader x thorin smut #Thorin oakenshield x reader smut

[fili-urzudel]

From Afar - Thorin Oakenshield x Reader

Part 3 to Second and Girl in Calico

Summary: Thorin must live with the reality that he has created, and despite everything, is determined to do so with some degree of joy. Based on the song From Afar by Vance Joy.

Warnings: heartache (to be expected from this series), angst, closure!!

Word count: 1.1 k

Your family accepted Thorin's invitation. Later, you also accepted an invitation of Bard's: to settle in Dale. After that, your visits only became more frequent. It took a year or so—though you would say only a few months—for your daughters to warm up to it all, Asa in particular. The girl had her father's black hair and your eyes, and a will that could move mountains. It was no wonder she had charmed Fíli like she had. 

Naturally, your families had to come closer together after that. You or Symir were usually there at least once a week, acting as chaperones. Dwalin was forced to enter Dale once in a while to do the same. Kíli and Lena had a good deal of fun making fun of their older siblings, but the lovebirds bore it all with grace. 

It was you and Thorin chaperoning—from a respectful distance—in the gardens of the Erebor Conservatory when Fíli formally decided to propose marriage. You couldn't help yourself—you covered your mouth with your hand and grabbed his upper arm to avoid expressing your joy too loudly. Thorin laughed and smiled and let you cut off his circulation as he watched the happy blush on his nephew's face. And pretended not to notice the strands of hair beneath your fingers.

The engagement ball was... an event. But we need not consider that at the moment. Before the two kingdoms were to know anything of the happy news, the two families gathered in the private dining room of the Durins to celebrate among themselves.

As the fathers—or at the very least, father-like figures—of the couple, Thorin and Symir once again found themselves in each other's company. Neither minded. They had struck up a friendship, finding that there was no reason for ill-will between them, and had they met under different circumstances, they would almost certainly be friends. There was no harm in being friends under these circumstances as well.

Thorin could hardly deny the similarities between Symir and himself. The dark hair was a start. Both were quiet, dedicated to their families. Loyal and passionate. Hardworking. The race, the height, the build, the eyes, the social standings were all different. Of course, those didn't really matter. The most important difference was that Symir stayed.

Thorin tamped down that persistent ache in his chest once more. There was no use in dwelling upon something he could not change. It would only serve to keep him up at night. Not that he slept much anyway.

"I'm going to go see if they need any help in the kitchen," you said, picking yourself up to your tiptoes to peck Symir on the lips. He graciously stooped to make it a bit easier. 

"I'll miss you," he said jestingly, warmth in his tone and a smile on his face. "Don't be gone too long."

"I'll be back before you know it," you promised.

Thorin never knew quite where to look.

Symir took another drink, allowing his smile to comfortably fade and letting himself listen to the music before speaking. "You're still in love with her, aren't you?"

Thorin took a long, steady breath, not sure how Symir wanted him to answer. He is your friend. Despite everything, he is truly your friend. "I still love her," he finally corrected. There was a difference. Both he and Symir knew there was a difference. "From afar. I would... I would never dream of disrupting the happiness she's found with you."

"From afar, hm?"

Thorin took a breath. "It can be farther, if you need it to be."

Symir's mouth twisted for a moment. He took another drink. "Not necessary," he finally delivered. "I don't see the danger in it. As long as you're comfortable as well."

Thorin let his hands hang at his sides. He wasn't. He never really was. He was gripped with guilt every time he looked at you, but he knew that if you weren't around, it would only be worse.

"I am glad that you will be family soon," he said instead. "I am glad that my nephews will have people like the two of you in their lives."

You were happy. Fíli was happy. Asa was happy. That was what mattered.

Symir looked down at him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You are a good man, Thorin Oakenshield. I am glad that we have met."

The king got a feeling inside that Symir knew what he was thinking, and yet allowed him the dignity of ignoring it. Allowed him to learn to cope with it on his own. Trusted him to do so.

Fíli caught him leaving, running to catch up to him before he reached their wing. "Uncle!"

Thorin turned. 

"May I speak to you?"

They sat on a settee in the hall.

"I can't help but notice your hesitance," Fíli said honestly. "You seem happy, but... there's just... something, I'm not sure what. Do you have concerns? Do you disapprove of our union? I value your insight, uncle. Please, tell me."

"No!" Thorin answered quickly. "No, I do not disapprove of your union. It brings me the greatest joy, to see you so happy, and I know that Asa's family are the good sort of people."

Fíli watched him carefully. "Then what is this," the word dawned upon Fíli visibly. "sadness I see about you?"

"It is what every dwarf wishes for," Thorin said softly. "To overcome the trials of his time so that those who follow are not plagued by them. So they are happy... when it was more difficult for him to do."

Fíli sat back, digesting his words. "You regret not marrying?" He asked. The words had not dared to leave his mouth in years past.

Thorin looked at him, but said nothing.

"Uncle, it is not yet too late, you know," Fíli tried to be helpful. "You are king of Erebor, the most powerful and most beloved ruler of—"

"For the one who my heart belongs to, it is," Thorin admitted. "It is too late."

Fíli whispered your name as a surety. The silence from his uncle was all the answer he needed. "Why did you not say anything?"

"I feared it would influence your decisions, and that would be the last thing I wished," Thorin said earnestly. "I still hope it does not."

"This causes you pain, uncle."

"No," Thorin insisted. "Nothing that I cannot bear."

Fíli sighed. Thorin could see the battle in his young nephew's mind and hoped that he lost. "Very well."

"Be happy, gamzûn," Thorin advised, pressing his forehead to his nephew's.

They stood in front of multitudes at the engagement ball. And they laughed, and they smiled, and for all the world, they were as happy as any new family could be.

Thorin supposed it was better to have you in his life in this way than not at all.

#lotr #lotr fandom #lotr fanfic #the hobbit #lotr headcanons #the hobbit headcanons #the hobbit x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin oakenshield fanfiction #thorin oakenshield imagine #thorin oakenshield fic #thorin oakenshield x you #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit thorin #mae writes

[normansnt]

Thorin Oakenshield x Bilbos brother!reader

You and your brother Bilbo were enjoying a nice dinner when you heard a knock at the door.

"...Did you invite someone?" Aske your brother

"Not that I know of?" You responded unsure. You stood up to open the door (after a short argument on who is going to get it, you lost).

"Dwalin to your service" said a quite rough looking Dwarf standing on your doorstep. He bowed than stepped in, you were quite shocked and forgot to reply

"...Ohmm I mean Y/N Baggings to yours?"

And that was just the start of the night, they started arriving one after the other.

While you were quite amused, they were fun company in your opinion. Your brother didn't agree as much. He got more and more upset the more Dwarfes came.

Gandalf arrived with them and while your brother was busy trying to get an answers from him you were singing along with your guests who were throwing plates around; so basically you were having the time of your life.

Its not that you didn't like the calmness that was in Hobbiton but sometimes...just sometimes you really wanted to go exploring, you wanted to go out on adventures to have some excitement in your life. Thats why you had a secret practice range in the woods behind your house. When you were small your parents got you a bow and an arrow and since then, you loved it. As you got older you perfected the art of archery and got better and better.

When the song ended there was one, slow knock on your door.

"He is here" muttered Gandalf quietly

Since you were closest you went to open the door.

When you opened the door your jaw almost dropped, on the other side stood the most handsome man you have ever seen.

He looked at you and bowed his head.

Your words were stuck in your throat you were processing his godly deeds voice.

The moment would have gotten awkward if Gandalf didn't step in front of you to great the newcomer.

"Bilbo, Y/N, this is the leader of our Company Thorin Oakenshield King under the mountain." He finished with a proud smile

You looked at him and gave him a smile

"Pleasure to meet you" Throin looked at you just for a second longer then it would have been normal, he had to admit you were quite nice to look at, you hade pretty h/c hair beautiful e/c eyes, not to mention a dazzling smile.

"So, Hobbits, tell me what is your weapon of choice" he started while walking around you and your brother.

"A Bow" you answered without missing a beat

"Pardon?" Bilbo was jut confused

Thorin stopped his pacing and looked at you, surprised. He didn't expect an actual answer he had no idea Hobbits wielded weapons. But now that he looks at you better, your build is different than other Hobbits. You're lean and clearly have muscle, you looked good in the button up shirt and west you were wearing. Throin realized he might be staring for too long

"A bow?" Quirked an eyebrow Thorin

"Yes?" You asked more than stated

"You any good" interrupted one of the younger dwarfes who you got to know as Kili.

"We can go out and shoot some arrow right now?" You asked not quite cockily but there was noticeable confidence in your voice

"...But its dark out" responded Kili quite unsure

"So?" You answered back now cockily and smirking.

This took everyone off gourd even Bilbo.

"You still have that bow?" Asked your brother

"The one I got when I was 10? Yes I shoot with my pinky" you answered sarcastically and some of the dwarfes chuckled, to your astonishment, Throin was one of them.

"And you" looked Thorin at Bilbo

"Im...quite good at conkers but I fail to see how thats relevant." Answered Bilbo yet again confused.

"Thought so, he looks more like a grocer than a burglar" chuckled the dwarven king.

"Said the Kind who lost his way twice looking for a simple sign on a door." You answered back.

You were a kind person and quite hard to anger, but when someone was mean to your brother that was the fastest ticket to your rage.

Thorin looked at you and stepped closer almost chest to chest, you were just slightly shorter than him but you still had to tilt your head up just a bit.

"Y/N-" started Gandalf

"I don't care even if you are the King of the world, you do not insult my brother especially under his own roof which he was kind enough to lend to you" you said without any intentions of backing down.

"Now please seet your royal ass at my table because Im sure you had a long journey and wish to eat and drink." And with that you walked towards the kitchen.

Thorin was amazed by you. The courage, and you didn't even weaver while talking to him like that you looked up into his eyes 100% serious no fear.

After everyone settled back to the table, as promised, you came out of the kitchen with a plate of food and something to drink for Throin.

He thanked you when you put it down in front of him and looked at you walking away. But he had to concentrate back at the matter at hand.

While the discussion was going on at the table, you couldn't help looking at Thorin from time to time. He was horribly good looking and you had a hard time focusing on the explanation Gandlaf was providing for you and your brother about the journey they wanted to go one.

You snapped out of your school crush daze when you heard the word dragon. And the next thing you know your brother is fainting and you had to catch him.

After Bilbo gained his consciousness back you and Gandalf tried to convince him to go on this adventure.

"C'mon big bro this what we were playing when we were kids remember? We always went into the woods to discover" you tried to make him remember. A small smile came to his face at the memory but it vanished as soon as it came.

"Y/N, did you hear what they said? A dragon, they are going to fight a dragon I cant even fight the squirrel that has been eating my tomatoes, and if Im not going Im definitely not letting you go"

"What? Bilbo I am an adult Hobbit you know I don't have to listen to you"

"You know that mom and dad trusted me with keeping you safe and going off to fight a dragon is quite the opposite of that" argued your brother.

"Then come with me-"

"No absolutely not, this is the end of the discussion"

"But-"

"I said no, now go to bed these dwarfs are bad impressions for you" with that he stood up and left.

You stood up from the chair you were sitting in and looked into the dining room, more specifically at Thorin, who was in a conversation with Dwalin. He looked at back at you, you guys were looking at each other for a little bit when you finally looked away and walked to your bedroom. You had to get a good night sleep, after all, you are going on an adventure tomorrow, with or without your brother.

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

AHHHHHHHSHGDJDGDNDGDHDH

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP😫😫

THORIN IS MY ONE AND ONLY TRUE LOVE FOREVER AND EVER AND IM SO HAPPY THAT I FINALLY WROTE A FIC FOR HIM😭😭😭😭

*breathe*

Ok Im calm now, (NO IM NOT I LOVE THORIN) Im very likely going to turn this into a book🫡

ya know tell the whole story, or not I have an Oc and I really want to write a book for him yall decide which one😭 (Im gonna write the OC one anyway its more like do you guys want me to continue this one or not🫣)

I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT AND IM GOING TO GET TO KNOW A LOT MORE LOTR/TH FANS CUS ITS MY LIFE🫠🫠

I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentleman and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡

#the hobbit fanfic #thorin oakenshield x reader #lotr #thorin x reader #thorin x you #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit fic

[bluebellhairpin]

Thorin Oakenshield X Fem!Reader

Summary; With the dragon Smaug gone, you discover what remains - or, more accurately, what has been taken away.

Warnings; Thorin has the dragon-sickness and is generally an asshole. Implied non-canon character death. Reader is female-body-coded, uses she/her pronouns, and is Human.

Listening to; 'Burn' from Hamilton - "Your sentences border on senseless... They don't get to know what I said... You forfeit all rights to my heart."

Part 12 || Part 14

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Everything was burning. Homes, buildings and lives. People.

It hurt that all you could do was watch, with the stone cold underneath you, and the wind making your tears feel like ice carving a river down your face. It was an ironic contrast, especially since your chest burned hot and ached with every breath.

You wondered why it still hurt. You felt calm, despite the distress before you, and you had rested enough from the fight with Smaug for your heart to have settled. But your chest hurt. Your lungs burnt with each breath and your throat was dry. You’d noticed before, how it seemed the closer to Erebor you got the worse it became. But you dared not bring it up, and now you couldn’t - Oin was will Kili, no one else would have answers like he would.

You were feeling so close to being sick - like properly throwing-up sick - because of what was happening both to the burning Laketown and Thorin. Oh, your dearest Thorin.

What was becoming of the Dwarf you once loved? You could only hope that he would get better now that the dragon had fled. Somehow you knew that hope was founded on shaky grounds.

You stared ahead, watching the distant walls of flames flicker like candles along a mantle place. You saw smoke rise into the dark night sky, glowing orange with embers. The dragon’s silhouette constantly swooped up and down, high then low.

With each pass Smaug made on the town you thought of your friends, Fili, Kili, Oin, and Bofur, and even Bard and his family. You hoped this would not be the pass to kill your friends, and at the end of each you waited - as if you would have felt it, but it never came. Only for the apprehension and hope to return once more with another path Smaug made.

You would’ve prayed they would make it out safely, if only you knew who to pray to.

The minutes felt like hours, and the hours seemed to drag on forever. As the stars passed overhead, and the very first signs of day drew near, a new kind of movement went across the town.

With a startled gasp, a pain in your chest sparked and you stumbled to your feet.

Beside you, Bilbo, who had yet to turn away unlike most of your other companions, likewise saw the shift - even if he didn’t feel it, or notice it in you.

“You saw that?” he asked, turning between you and the town. “The dragon, it fell.”

“The dragon died.” you said, fingers tight over the leather and furs over your heart.

“The black arrow. The Lords of Dale have finished what was started many years ago.” Then the burning, the aches, it all stopped. A peace which you thought would never return did - and it was like you were blessed with a whole new body.

“The dragon is gone!” Golin said, stepping forward on quite nimble feet to take a proper look at the scene before him.

“But the damage is done.” Dwalin lingered just behind you, scowling at the flames that still burnt.

“And now it’s dead word will spread. Those with good intent and bad will be swarming to the mountain.” you added. “I do not think a dragon is the worst thing we will see before we can finally call Erebor home again.”

Enjoyed this chapter so far? Read the rest now over on Archive of Our Own! (Chapter Twelve Continues Here!)

Feel free to leave kudos, comments or a reblog if you're enjoying the story so far - especially now we're so close to the end. Remember to support your favorite writers! If you liked reading it, reblog it <3

#the girl who knew the end #thorin x reader #thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin x you #the hobbit x reader #tolkien x reader #the hobbit x you

[myers-meadow]

Azog the Defiler x OC: In which Gandalf learns that Orcs can love

Title: In which Gandalf learns that Orcs can love

Pairing: Azog the Defiler x female OC (Hadewych)

Fandom: The Hobbit movie trilogy

Summary: In this tale we follow the Companionship of Dwarves on a dual mission: reach and reclaim Erebor, and maybe rescue a friend they made in Laketown. The last quest leads to more hardship than expected, as Azog has his sights set firmly on the human, and isn't planning to let the Dwarves take her from him.

Warnings: rape/non-con, Azog is his own warning honestly, character death, non-consensual voyeurism, corruption, (mild) rape aftermath, language barrier.

Wordcount: 2147

Gorgeous dividers by @saradika-graphics

"She should be around here, somewhere," called Fili from over his shoulder, scouting ahead through the thick growth of the forest. It was a forest so thick, only little of the late afternoon sun reached through the trees. Thorin, Kili, Bilbo and Gandalf followed him. They were tired, especially now that their end goal seemed so close, yet so far away. After leaving Laketown, the kind friend of Bard, who sheltered them, followed them with provisions and weapons. That was a week ago. Immediately after she found the companionship of dwarves, they were ambushed by Azog's hunting party, and she was taken.

After five days of captivity, it was Bilbo, with Dwalin and Thorin, who rescued her from the orc camp as they all slept. She wasn't as grateful as they expected however, frightened beyond words. Her fear remained with her, even though she was safely away from the man-eating orcs.

"You don't get it," she said, keeping her voice hushed even while hours away from the site they rescued her from, "he will find me and it will be worse. You've put yourself in danger, too."

The dwarves waved her concerns away, but it gave Bilbo pause. Something felt off. Why would the orcs come for her? They were hunting the dwarves already. Despite his feeling of unease, their journey continued.

Balin convinced her, with his gentle reasoning, to come with them, and not head back: "We are less than four days march away from Erebor. Once we are there, you'll be safe inside. No orc could enter the mountain and live. Laketown is at least a week from here, on horseback. Don't be stupid and get yourself killed trying to go back."

Hope shone in her eyes at his words, a fearful hope. It was decided; she would come with them. Evening fell, and they set up camp. Hadewych remained withdrawn. As they wound down after their meal, which finally got some life back in her face, Gandalf took up his pouch of pipeweed, lighting his pipe. They sat, gathered in a circle around the fire, flames making their shadows dance.

"Hadewych, what happened to you out there?" asked Fili. None had dared ask before, as her panicked state had been enough of an answer. Kili, who sat next to her, moved her braid aside and gestured at the large bitemark on the side of her neck.

"It looked like they tried to eat you," Kili said, sounding somewhat impressed, his tone light. Hadewych slapped his hand away.

"It's beyond you," was all she said.

Gandalf took the pipe out of his mouth, and agreed with her. "Let the poor woman have her rest. We're not there yet. I have a feeling the worst is yet to come."

Later, when just Bilbo and Gandalf remained, unable to sleep, keep watch, did Bilbo dare to ask the wizard more.

"The orcs, they..." he started, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Why did they let Hadewych live? They would've slaughtered any of us as soon as they had the chance."

Gandalf, old eyes peering from beneath his wizard's hat, replied: "Hmm, it is certainly curious. I suspect we’ll find out soon enough, although I fear it won't be pleasant."

After a short silence, as the moon's rays illuminated the rocky landscape, he continued. "There isn't much we know about orc culture. So far, Azog has proven to be at the top of his tribe, with not just bloodlust, but also a great strategic mind. He's smart, Bilbo, that's what makes him more dangerous than most."

"You're saying he took her for a strategic purpose? But what on earth could that be?"

Gandalf shrugged, movements slow. "You should get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day."

In the morning as they set out on their journey, Hadewych found Gandalf and fell into step next to him.

"Gandalf," Hadewych started, uncertainty in her voice, unsure of how to ask what she had on her mind.

"Yes, my dear, what is it?"

"Do you know Black Speech?"

"What a curious question. I do understand it, yes. It is a vile language, created by Sauron and I prefer not speaking it."

"I understand if it's too much to ask, but could you maybe teach me? Every little bit would be a great help."

Gandalf halted and turned to her. His eyes bore into her soul and she sensed that he knew and understood a great deal more than any of the companions, more than even the wizard let on. "There may be a way to teach you that will help you more than simply translating words. You've tried it already, haven't you? To let the pale orc teach you."

Unsure, but aware that lies were useless, she nodded. "All I've managed to parse out are a few different words, and that's hardly enough to understand what they say. The dwarves may think I'm safe now, but they don't understand." She adjusted her cloak and hugged it around her. "It's only a matter of time before I'm surrounded by orcs again, and I need to know what they say - to know what is coming."

The wizard hummed. "I see." He paused and regarded her for a long moment. The companions walked on ahead, but it was no matter. They could catch up with ease, if needed. Then he nodded and grabbed his staff. "Then we shall see what we can do."

Another day passed, and Gandalf allowed Hadewych to learn and practice Black Speech. She had little trouble with it, aside from the grammar. During the second morning, she felt a bit more at ease and her normal self returned, and she joked with the dwarves the same as she did while they were in Laketown. Bilbo still eyed her warily - to him, the mystery of her behaviour was not yet solved.

Once they got going, the terrain opened up in front of them, and it gained in height. It would truly only be three more days until they reached their beloved mountain. The hunting party ambushed them from the side, driving them back with a cliff at their side. It was the worst possible road to be ambushed on, and even though Thorin sent Fili and Kili ahead as scouts, they hadn't seen nor heard a thing. Thorin barely escaped with his life. Hadewych wasn't so lucky, as she was slung over their leader's shoulder, defenceless without the weapons or skill the dwarves had. The dwarves hid in the mountains, and the hunting party took off just as swiftly as they came, disappearing into a thick forest, taking Hadewych with them.

Evening fell. The dwarves licked their wounds and regrouped properly that night, and discussed what they could do. Many seemed in favour of continuing their original quest, and not taking the risk of going after the hunting party.

"Is Hadewych not also one of our own?" argued Bilbo. "She went through the trouble to bring us the weapons and provisions, without her we would've been defenceless."

"That's just how it goes, laddie," said Dwalin. "She knew the risks when coming with us."

Bilbo, outraged, looked to the others.

Balin answered. "Aye... But we've been the ones who convinced her not to go back to Laketown. That Erebor would be safer."

"No way she could've reached Laketown on her own anyway," said Gloin, his voice rumbling.

"Perhaps, but a group is easier to track than a woman alone."

"We failed to protect her," agreed Kili. "We can look for her, just a few of us. The rest heads on to the mountain. With just a few, we won’t be easily noticed."

And so it was that now the few of them who went to track the hunting party down; Gandalf and Bilbo came with, out of concern, Thorin and his cousins Fili and Kili; laid low in a bed of ferns, hidden behind bushes and trees, looking on as the orcs set up camp for the night. The pale orc towered over them all. He fed his warg and pet her fur, Hadewych close at his side, one hand in the warg's fur just like him. Kili wanted to creep closer, but was stopped by Thorin.

"So this is why she wanted to learn Black Speech," said Gandalf, which the dwarves paid little mind to. Bilbo looked at his wizard friend with curious eyes. They exchanged looks, and with his voice soft, Gandalf pointed at the scene. "They seem to be talking."

"He's laughing," said Bilbo, surprised. "Gandalf, don't tell me they've become friends."

They watched as Azog lead Hadewych to the campfire, a firm hand on her upper arm. Once seated, keeping her close to him, although it was difficult for them to see, he reached for the grilled meat, steaming in the cold evening air, and took a large bite out of it. The orcs dug in similarly, feeding on what was probably small game they've hunted, or dried food they took with them. Then the pale orc did something Bilbo nor the wizard saw coming. With the dead animal speared on his hooked hand, he plucked off bits of tender meat, and fed them to Hadewych. After letting her eat it right from his hand, he licked off his fingers.

"I'd say she's still deadly afraid of him, not to speak of the other orcs around. Wouldn't you agree?"

"But an orc wouldn't hear reason! Do you really think she talked him into letting her live?"

"That seems... unlikely," said Gandalf, his voice falling grim.

Thorin decided to wait until night fell and everyone was asleep to attack, so they did. The orcs laid down to sleep not long after, leaving just two who kept watch awake, as well as the pale orc and Hadewych. When they got up to rest, they did so on the other side of the mighty white warg, and Hadewych pet her fur as Azog gathered the blanket and mat from a nearby pack. When he spoke to her, his voice was low, unexpected of an orc to speak so gently. The dwarves spread out, trying to scout out the area more now that they had less eyes on them and less ears to listen. Bilbo stayed with Gandalf, leaned against a tree, waiting for the others to regroup. Their friend and her captor had now finally laid down and all was quiet.

"It's taking so long," complained Kili. "When will they go to sleep already."

"Patience," bid Thorin, reigning his cousin in.

They regrouped at their spot, Thorin directed everyone to their positions. When Bilbo glanced over at the sleeping forms of his friend and her captor, he found a rather odd sight. It wasn't immediately clear what he was looking at, as Azog hovered above the ground, facing down, and moved his body rhythmically. Not like someone who is sleeping. Not like someone turning around in their sleep. Bilbo grabbed Thorin by the arm, wordless, and pointed. Then, staring hard through the ferns, he they saw Azog sit straighter up and pulled a leg - a human leg - to his side, changing the angle of his hips. Then his movements made sense. Hadewych laid underneath him, and he moved his hips, grinning sadistically down at her, low rumbles spilling from his throat as he fucked her.

The dwarves, Bilbo and Gandalf looked on, forgetting their cover, and stared at the scene in front of them with mouths open in shock. Kili pulled Thorin aside.

"I'm not risking my life for that," he said harshly, voice a little louder than it should've been in the quiet of the night.

Gandalf opened his mouth to say something, but refrained from interfering.

"What is happening, Gandalf, why is this happening?" asked Bilbo, who didn't want to look on, but couldn't tear his eyes away for longer than a second. The pale orc leaned down again, over his captive, and said something to her. The rasp of the Black Speech sounded almost doting. As the dwarves tried to figure out what to do - leave or attack - Gandalf observed the scene and thought of how to answer the hobbit. As he did, the orc snarled, and grabbed his captive close, ripped the fabric away from her shoulder, and bit down.

"It is what it looks like, my friend; Azog has claimed a mate."

Unfortunately for the unobservant dwarves, the pale orc had a short recovery time, and was on his feet within the minute. Quiet as a panther he moved through the thicket. He called out to Thorin, voice loud enough to wake the rest of the hunting party, and the dwarves were outnumbered quick. Hadewych looked on from the sidelines, leaning her back against the white warg, face in her hands, trying to ignore the screams of pain and sorrow as the line of Durin ended before her eyes.

#azog the defiler #azog the defiler x oc #azog #azog x oc #the hobbit #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit movies #the hobbit trilogy #meadow's writing #Hobbit fanfic #Hobbit fan fiction

[sotwk]

Do you know anyone who writes for dwalin? I can't seem to find many dwalin writers

P.s I am so much loving your fili fic 😍

Hello Anon,

I am honored you came to me for recommendations and am thrilled to direct your attention to my favorite Dwalin multi-chapter work by @lathalea: Dwalin Has A Bad Day (5 chapters long so far). She's a very popular writer in The Hobbit fandom, so I just don't know if you've found this fic already. It's amaaaaazing!

The only other writer friend I have who does Dwalin fics (that I am sure of) is the very talented @middleearthpixie! Please check out the Dwalin section of her Masterlist here: LINK.

If you need more recs than this, please just say so and I'm sure I can help hunt down more! I know people who surely know people.

(Friends reading this, please recommend any Dwalin fics or writers you might know!)

P.S. Thank you for your kind words on my Fili fic--I'm glad you're enjoying it! New chapters should come soon, but in the meantime, please also stay tuned for more Fili x Reader one-shots that I have in the works!

***

EDIT - Other writers/fics brought up after the original posting:

Blankdblank's Dwalin Masterlist

#sotwk answers #sotwk recommends #dwalin #dwalin x oc #dwalin fanfiction

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Hello beautiful, remember me? The one who asked for bubbles baths? i loved that so much !? I was wondering if I could ask for the reactions of the same Tolkien characters if the reader dies this time (oh aangst continuing on from with i n n their relationship from the buble baths ). If not it's all good in da hood. 🥰

Dearest anon, you did a 180 here, huh? I, of course, remember you...🥰🥰🥰

-> Link to the original (happy, fluffy, cracky) ask

That was a hard one for me, I won't lie...

so @kibleedibleedoo, here's my very soft angst, nothing too extreme.

@medusas-hairband, @eunoiaastralwings, here's the second (much darker) part of the ask you were so good to help me with lol

Words: 3,3k

Characters: Thorin x reader, Dwalin x reader, Elu Thingol x reader, Caranthir x reader, Ulmo x reader

Warnings: slight angst, character death, reference to injury and illness

Disclaimer: Not only do I not know the characters very well, but I also am NOT an angst writer, so please be kind and lenient!

Ficlets under the cut ⬇️

Thorin

“Don’t…” the king huffed, his usually so strong voice wavering like the flickering candle-light painting scenes of a world to come onto the bleak walls of your small chamber.

“You cannot command death, Thorin,” you smiled softly; the wounds sustained in a skirmish with roving Orcs were too deep even for his skilled healers, and all the gold in Arda would not buy you a single second more than was allotted to you by fate.

“I refuse,” he bellowed, despair turning his eyes as dark as the night sky, “I object! I am the king and I forbid you to die!”

In his eyes, you could read how desperately he tried to convince himself of his delusion as his hands closed tenderly around your upper arms. You could see him move, but your skin had already grown too cold and numb to really feel the touch you had always enjoyed so.

“Be strong,” you wheezed and coughed faintly, “be brave! I will wait for you beyond the veil.”

“It should have…I should have…” he stammered, the frenzy of his helpless, powerless panic clear in the way his fingers clenched and unclenched in irregular intervals.

You had led the life of a warrior by the side of your king, and you had nothing to regret now that you died a hero’s death in the chambers you had shared with the one they called ‘Oakenshield’ still. 

“You cannot yield,” he barked but the softness of his massive palm against your brow – cold and clammy with a sheen of sweat – belied his superficial fury, “I do not know how to go on without you.”

“I…” breathing became increasingly hard, “I loved you best. You, the people, the kingdom.”

You took a deep, shuddering breath that sounded like the wind rattling a broken window and tasted like blood and mud.

“Honour me by taking care of these.”

When he nodded solemnly, you added: “In that order, Thorin!”

He would be devastated, you knew, for he was a dwarf of a possessive, jealous nature when it came to his personal treasures, and he was loath to even consider losing them.

At the same time, his strength of mind and willpower were unparalleled, and he would not be alone and forsaken in his grief; you had to trust that his sister and his friends would find a way to tease that ancient fire back into roaring flame.

“I shall hunt them down and make them suffer,” he promised then, his eyes flashing like his sword and swirling with light and colour like the Arkenstone, “you will be avenged.”

“I love you,” you whispered; your lips felt stiff and cold around the words that suddenly seemed too big and unwieldy to speak, but he had heard you utter this truth – in whispers and ecstatic screams – often enough to understand it in his heart even when his ears could barely make out the garbled sounds.

“Farewell, Thorin,” you mouthed; there was no pain now, only peace, and the air held the crisp aroma of pine needles and fresh summer wind. 

“You disobedient wretch,” Thorin sobbed in a choked voice, “how I have loved you. I wish I could have kept the dangers creeping in the darkness at bay to preserve your light…”

He might have said many things beyond that, but blessed silence blanketed your senses now and the last and only thing you clutched to your stuttering heart as you departed this life of sorrow and love was the memory of his sad, beautiful smile as his eyes met yours for the final time.

Dwalin

It was so cold, you thought hazily, it was so terribly cold, and night had fallen so fast.

“Don’t move,” Dwalin – beloved, sturdy, reliable Dwalin – grumbled as his heavy, broad hand settled on your shoulder, “I’ll take you home…in a minute.”

You could feel the warm wetness under you congeal into a lake of cool, sticky jelly; it had been your own fault, reckless and daring, you had challenged him to a rock-climbing expedition from which you would, in all likelihood, never return.

Had it been the fell shadow swooping down on you or a moment of inattention – distracted by the rolling muscles under his worn tunic – for which you were to blame?

Either way, your hand had slipped, and you had fallen – long and deep – until your body was shattered on a rocky outcropping; you had lost consciousness then for you knew not how long, until Dwalin – soaking wet with transpiration and panting heavily – had appeared, his hands bloody and torn from his hasty, heedless descent.

His eyes flitted over you with dizzying speed, never resting on one particular part of your form for too long, and his reticence to even catalogue your injuries or treat them, beyond the tunic he had spread over you to stave off the biting chill of the night air, made you understand that they were beyond repair.

As you tried to speak, your tongue was stuck against the dry palate of your mouth and so you merely groaned; the pain – flowing like fire through your veins – made you feel as if you were spinning wildly in an abyss of flame and whipping chains. 

“In a minute,” he repeated, stroking your hair tenderly while tears – opaque with sweat and dirt – rolled noiselessly down his bearded cheeks, “no doubt, the princes will come looking for us! They’ll help me bring you back home.”

It had been hours, you remembered blurrily, you had been hiking to this remote area for hours; it was highly improbable that anyone would search for you before morning light, and even then, it was outright unlikely that they’d find you. Cowering hidden on the small ledge only barely perceptible from the steep slopes of the mountain, you were all but invisible and definitely unreachable to whatever rescue party potentially sent out for you.

“I’m here,” he babbled on, and his voice sounded like the gravel under his heavy boots as he scooted closer to you, effectively shielding you by hunching around you like a wild beast protecting its fallen mate. Maybe, that was exactly what you were. 

Again and again, you tried to speak or move, desperate to tell him not to worry, but it seemed that your earthly shell had already assumed the position of burial – still and rigid – no matter how frantically you attempted to shatter the broken cocoon stifling your thoughts into silence.

I love you, you thought, don’t cry, but no sound breached your stiff, numb lips.

“Oh, you’ll be alright,” Dwalin whispered, “but there will be no more rock-climbing!”

There wouldn’t, you well knew that, there would be no more winter walks either, or late nights in a tavern laughing about bad jokes while drinking watered-down ales. Gone and lost were the nights spent in his strong arms, his tender kisses weaving an ephemeral garment of love and starlight around your limbs; your memories blurred into a blinding light that cleaved your hazy mind like Dwalin’s axes could hew through wood and flesh alike.

It pained you that a single moment – so brief and so irrelevant in the big picture of your life together – would deprive you of the love, deep and enduring as the mountain you were perishing on, of that noble dwarven warrior weeping by your side.

The broken, flashing throbs of anger and hurt rattling around your immobile body like shards of glass in a broken crate or snowflakes drifting in a winter storm abated into dull fatigue as the moments ticked by; you were no longer feeling cold, you were merely tired.

“In a minute,” Dwalin said a third time, but his voice sounded muffled and far away now; you were not even given the chance to say goodbye or to release him from that minute that would stretch on endlessly until it had devoured the rest of his life.

Hours, minutes, seconds became meaningless as they contracted and settled into your frozen flesh heavily. 

The last thought you could cobble together before the darkness gaped open and engulfed you was ‘good night’ because – even now – ‘farewell’ was a thing too dreadful to even think.

Elu Thingol

“You cannot be serious,” Elu Thingol – who had the world at his feet and the threads of centuries wrapped around his long fingers – gasped as he saw you, shivering and weak, stretched out like a ghost on the soft sheets of your bed furnishings, “this is ridiculous.”

Death was a concept that was strange and distasteful to him; he, who had travelled beyond the confines of the world known to you and who trusted that he’d find himself in those sacred lands once more, could not fathom the bleak truth of someone vanishing like a candle snuffed out by a gust of wind.

“Don’t struggle,” you said quietly as if it was him and not you battling the shadows creeping in, eager to devour your flesh and bone and turn them into ash and dust.

You felt for him; unable to truly die, Elu Thingol – Elwë, the timeless – was the cracked vessel of the poison following the sting: grief.

It was his fate – whether this was a curse or benediction only Eru knew – to be the living, breathing, eternal memorial of those who had been whisked away to places beyond his reach.

Long was his memory and deep was his pain, and you hated yourself for adding to the agony that choked and dimmed the light of his eyes.

“We could heal you,” he grunted, but he knew very well that all his healers had already exhausted their powers; all they had done though was to prolong your suffering as the rot overtaking your body was only ever stayed but never eradicated.

“When the world is remade,” you murmured, “we shall be together once more; until then, I bid you farewell, esteemed king, cherished protector, and beloved soul.”

“Don’t,” he cried out – all the power in his blood rushing to the surface in what looked to you like a flash of blinding light – as he lifted you into his arms, “don’t leave me! Will all I’ve ever cherished be torn from me?”

Looking up into his beautiful face, radiant with a light he had managed to find where it had no reason to be, you had to concede that it must have been unbearably hard to be impervious to sickness and hurt on the surface while your soul was in the throes of deep agony.

“Remember me,” you choked out, “and the frailty of life, beauty, and love.”

A part of you knew that he would not heed your words; it was in his nature to hold on too tightly and squeeze whatever blessing was resting in his hands through his clenched fingers until he found his palms empty and smeared with the blood of what he had so tried to save.

He was glorious and – after the gnawing ailment had robbed you of nearly all the light you had ever possessed yourself – you were convinced that it would be his radiance that greeted you at the end of the long tunnel from which you would emerge – renewed and hale – at long last.

“Do not mourn me,” you went on, forcing your voice to be the trembling violin that accompanied your inevitable departure, “don’t let it make you bitter. Live as you were always supposed to and be brave in the face of seemingly impossibly daunting challenges.”

Your numb fingers clawed themselves into his long, silver hair as your head drooped weakly against his chest; life was draining out of you to pool – unheeded and shimmering – at his hallowed feet. The earth would drink up your essence and make new flowers bloom in his protected realm; the thought of staying with him – in all the manifold fragments and moods of your soul – comforted you now that the fatal moment had come.

“I beg you,” Thingol whispered as his arms tightened around the hollow shell that had once been a body flourishing with brimming, thrumming, invincible life.

As was his destiny, his pleas came too late and would bear no fruit though, and your serene slipping away was marred by a tinge of bitter regret as your last smile broke midway, leaving Thingol with the sharp-edged shards of loss and the biting knowledge that he had been robbed. 

Caranthir

“You will not come back,” you whispered, touching a hesitant hand to that handsome face you had loved so well, “and we shall not meet again in this life.”

“I shall,” Caranthir hissed sharply, but – in his eyes – you could clearly discern that he dreaded himself the moment his fate – and that Oath that bound his soul in unbreakable chains – would overtake him.

Before he could say anything else, you lifted your other hand to stay his words of love and promise.

“They are your brothers, and you owe them allegiance,” you said gently, pressing a kiss onto the white-knuckled hand now clasped tightly around your own as if to keep you by his side, “I know the forces that drive you; they have ever been the shadow on my every sunny day and the starless void swirling in my night sky.”

You sighed; you had not been granted the gift of foresight and yet, you knew with appalling certainty that this would be the last time you laid eyes upon the angry, helpless flush covering the unbearably handsome face of your beloved Lord with these eyes.

“I am bound to you,” you went on, trying to comfort him, “and your crimes are mine.”

“You shall not be judged for my trespasses,” he roared, his hands scrabbling frantically across your pleated robes now to find purchase, and you didn’t doubt for a moment that he’d fight the Valar themselves for your sake if it came down to it.

“Are you telling me that your wicked cunning knows boundaries, Moryo? Are you insinuating that you would be unable to find me when your destiny is finally full wrought?”

He pondered in brooding silence for a few seconds; the fierce frown and the pinched lips only made him more statuesquely beautiful, and your heart clenched in silent longing.

“They might keep you from me as punishment for what we are about to do…” he then whispered and the weariness weighing down his tone cut through you like a blade. 

“You’ve gone down a path sketched out by another’s hand for too long to turn back now, beloved,” you smiled wistfully, “and I promise that I’ll be waiting at the end of it.”

Taking his pale hands into your own and brushing your lips against his in a last effort to stem the tide of his persuasive speech, you pulled him into a tight embrace, unable to find words that would counteract the spell his love had cast upon you.

“Let me go join the widows and mothers; we both know that even the sons of Fëanor cannot outrun, outsmart, or outman fate! Have you ever come home from battle and not found me waiting?”

“No,” he admitted, his eyes darkening into the shade of empty, bleak doom spreading on the horizon of your shared life.

“Different as our paths may be – mine being one of dignified fading and yours leading through fire and blood – I truly have faith that they’ll lead to the same place in the end. The day has broken, love, and it is time to go.”

One last passionate, desperate kiss later, he got up and dressed in sullen silence.

“Until we meet again,” he rasped, his hand tight around the pommel of his sword.

“Until we meet again,” you echoed, “ride to – if not a glorious – at least a valiant conclusion to this wretched chapter in a never-ending story.”

“You are leaving,” he smiled with a sadness that was always lingering just beneath the surface, “and – whatever is to come – I shall not be afeared for I am eager to return to your arms.”

With him gone, you sunk back against the pillows still holding the echo of his scent and closed your eyes, giving yourself over to the cold but welcome embrace of death.

Ulmo

“This is the way things go,” you sighed, sitting by the shore that had been your home for so many years, “and I am unafraid.”

A soft smile passed over your face; you had spent too many afternoons in Ulmo’s company to dread what was to come for you had faith – having seen one of the great Powers with your own unworthy eyes – and you accepted your mortal fate unconditionally. 

“I will not give you up!” 

The gurgling words whispering like the wings of unseen seabirds sounded strangely petulant for a being who knew everything and had nothing to fear.

“Where I go, you cannot follow me,” you laughed but your voice was diluted in the insistent howling of the wind; you knew that you were dying, you had felt the darkness creep into your bones and slowly paint your body from the inside out until you were naught but a shadow of your former self. 

Dark swaths of otherworldly wrath gathered ominously – the tears of which you’d never feel on your wilted face – and, despite the chill of the grey afternoon, you wanted your last moments to take place here.

Reclining onto the moss covering the sharp rocks, you looked up into the sky – swirling with those clouds in the shape of all you had ever loved and admired – and made your peace with leaving this world behind forevermore.

“You will not leave,” the same ethereal voice – pebbles clicking in the stream of a jauntily leaping river – replied adamantly, “I won’t let you!”

Your head turned slowly as something cold started prickling in the palm of your outstretched hand. 

“Do you remember?” He was mourning already, you realised, his tone deep and hollow like the unexplored abyss in which he reigned supreme. 

Your fingers – thin and brittle like twigs drifting on the ocean – twitched as you saw the tiny, pristine bubbles popping merrily in your worn palm. Only now did you hear the angry crashing of the waves against the cliffs; Ulmo had whipped the ocean into a frenzy, lathering plants and swirling up soil to create a semblance of the stupid soap bubbles you had shown him long years ago.

What devastation would follow for the fishermen and farmers? The thought but caressed your mind, a shadow of guilt for the shared grief for one as inconsequential as you.

“I do remember,” you croaked; your limbs felt heavy and numb with cold and fatigue, but you tried to hold on to this last conversation a little longer.

“Will you do me one last favour?” 

“Anything!” You had nothing to lose anymore; where you were headed, your riches, your pride, your very existence would be forfeit.

“Give yourself over to me,” he prompted softly and – as impossible as it seemed – warm water embraced you as soon as you had managed a faint nod, lifting you up as if you were as fragile and ephemeral as the dying foam in your hand.

Which you were, at least to him.

Dying, you cared not to which place you’d be whisked away; you had been blessed with experiences so extraordinary in life that you would have accepted an eternity of dull nothingness as counterbalance. 

Sweet calm washed over you, drowning you in memories of bliss, before oblivion cradled you in her warm arms as you felt the weight of the world be muffled by a heavy wall of water that swallowed you eagerly.

“You shouldn’t have,” a foreign, enchantingly melodious voice drifted into your now quickly fading conscience while you sunk ever downwards.

“A grave is a grave,” your lifelong friend replied quietly and then, warm, wet sand was heaped upon your unfeeling body like a blanket of tender love. 

So, there we are, tiny angst and dead readers...

I have tried my best to do as many different reasons and ways and reactions as I could think of; I hope you like this, dearest anon...

Other than that, I hope you all enjoyed this venture into unusual territory and - if so - I'd love you forever if you could comment/reblog.

Thank you so much!!!

Lots of love from me <3

#fanfiction #request #ask #IDNMT answers #the hobbit #the silmarillion #silm #hobbit #Thorin #dwalin #elu thingol #caranthir #ulmo #x reader #i hope you like this anon #TW: death #angst #hurt no comfort

[delicatenightfury]

Tell Her

2022 Month of Writing: Day 14

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x reader

Prompt:

Word Count: 1,441

Author's Note: please don't steal my work! you can choose to respond to the prompt as well, but don't steal my work

Erebor was stunning. The great hall was beautifully lit, shining light on the wealth that the dwarves had in their kingdom. A great feast lay out on the tables, which were surrounded by merry dwarves already deep in their cups. Music and laughter filled the hall, making it feel even more lively. Everyone was enjoying themselves and the celebration.

Everyone except Thorin.

He kept up the appearance of a happy prince, but his mind lay elsewhere. It was hard to believe that while such a celebration went on in front of him, he would rather be somewhere else.

Or rather, with someone else.

His mind drifted off to y/n, and not for the first time that night.

y/n was a truly familiar face to him. She was a servant in Erebor, and had been for many years. She took care of Dís’s chambers and frequently spent time with the princess. Meaning that Thorin saw her quite often. 

When he first met her, she had been soft-spoken and reserved. But as they interacted more, she grew out of her shell (with some encouragement from Dís). y/n was brilliant. She brought a warmth to a room that a fire could not. Her smile and laugh never failed to make Thorin do the same. She was well read and knowledgeable, but also very curious. Thorin often found himself telling her stories about his trips he would take with his family outside the mountain.

There were some that might have found the friendship between the young royals and a servant to be odd, unbecoming, or scandalous even. But the Durins had little care. y/n practically grew up with them and because she spent so much time around Dís, she spent time with the princes too.

“You’re distracted,” Frerin said, nudging his brother. “If you don’t smile, people might start to think you’ve turned to stone. They might try to come at you with chisels and picks just to see if you still live beneath the rocks.”

“Very funny,” Thorin replied, chuckling slightly at Frerin’s antics.

“What’s on your mind? Or should I ask who?”

“Hush, brother. You need not concern yourself.”

Frerin lifted his hands in surrender, but smiled.

“Just trying to help.”

He stayed silent after that. Thorin glanced at Frerin for a moment, skeptical of him actually being done. When he didn’t say anything, Thorin turned away. He lifted his cup to his lips and took a drink.

“So you’re sure you’re not thinking of anyone?” Thorin struggled not to choke on his drink. “You all right, Thorin?”

He shot Frerin a glare as he swallowed.

“Fine. If I answer your question, will you stop pestering me?”

“Perhaps. One way to find out.”

Thorin sighed.

“I would rather not be here tonight. And before you ask why,” he shot Frerin a knowing look - his brother already had his mouth open to speak, “I wish I was in better company.”

“Like y/n?”

“...Aye.”

“You know, it seems like you’ve been having these kinds of thoughts a lot lately.”

Thorin looked at his brother, puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“You just seemed very distracted lately. Father has noticed it. Dwalin and Balin have both made comments. Dís and I have seen it too.” Thorin looked down. He hadn’t realized how much his thoughts had been consuming him recently. He didn’t know that others had taken notice. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Thorin sighed and took another sip of his drink, carefully thinking over his words.

“It’s y/n,” he said.

“Well I figured that.”

“I find myself missing her presence, her intelligence, and her wit. She is fun to be around and is challenging in the best ways. I can’t seem to truly put into words what it is I feel, but my time spent with her never truly feels like enough.”

“So you’ve taken a liking to her.”

“Of course I have. She is our friend.”

“He means more than a friend, you thick headed oaf.” The brothers turned to find that Dís had joined them. She smiled at her oldest brother. “You’re different around her, Thorin. It’s refreshing to see.”

Thorin stood quietly after that. He thought back to all of his shared moments with y/n. He greatly enjoyed those moments he got to spend with her. Sometimes, he even had the opportunity of being with her without Dís being present. Their shared moments were ones he had grown to cherish.

“So what are you going to do?” Frerin asked, bringing Thorin out of his thoughts again.

Thorin looked between his younger siblings, who were staring at him expectantly. He went to say something, but Dís quickly interrupted him.

“If you say anything other than ‘tell her how I feel,’ I’m going to hit you.”

Thorin stared at her for a moment, taken aback by her words.

“I’m not sure what I can say,” he said slowly.

“Tell her what you’re feeling!”

“Despite what I might be feeling for her, I can’t. She is your servant, Dís, and I am a prince. Our father and grandfather would never approve.”

“Except they do.”

“What?”

Frerin smiled.

“I’ve already talked to them. They’ve noticed your behavior as of late and asked me if I knew what was going on. I told them that you fancied y/n.”

Thorin stared at his brother. He could feel the heat rising in his face, though he couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger.

“Frerin,” he growled.

“She likes you too.”

Thorin stopped again and looked at Dís. She was smiling innocently at him.

“What?”

“What do you think we talk about, Thorin? She’s asked about you countless times and I eventually asked her if she was interested. Funny enough, she’s had similar thoughts to you. You know, the whole ‘I’m a servant, he’s a prince’ argument.”

“We can all see you like each other,” Frerin said. “And if you need more people to say it for you to really believe, then we can definitely find some people to convince you.” Thorin shook his head. “Good.”

“Listen, Thorin.” Dís grabbed her brother’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I understand what thoughts you’re having about the situation. But the people around you can tell how much you love her. And we approve. That should tell you something.”

His siblings gave him a minute to process the information they had given him. It all felt so hard to believe.

Thorin looked back at his siblings, but something behind them caught his eye. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

y/n was walking through the crowd, dressed in a beautiful (favorite color) dress. She looked a little uncomfortable, but she had never been part of a celebration like this, so he found it understandable. He also thought she looked cute with the little lost look on her face. Dwalin then approached her, giving her someone familiar to talk to.

“She looks beautiful tonight,” Frerin said suddenly. Thorin glanced at him. “You should go to her.”

“Of course she looks beautiful,” Dís said. “I helped her get ready. Not that she needed much help; I just helped enhance her natural beauty a little bit.” She nudged Thorin with her arm. “But he’s right. Go to her. She knows how you feel about her too. That’s why she’s here.”

Thorin nodded slightly. He couldn’t tear his eyes off her. She looked stunning. Her smile seemed to light up the room as she talked with Dwalin, and Thorin thought he could see her bright eyes from where he stood.

He set down his drink and started walking toward her. He watched Dwalin glance at him, say something to y/n, then step away. y/n turned around and smiled when she saw Thorin approaching her. She curtsied a little.

“My prince,” she said.

“My lady,” he said, giving a bow in response.

“I’m afraid I’m no lady. At least not in the sense you speak of.”

He could sense the underlying meaning behind her words - I’m a servant, you’re a prince.

Thorin gently took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of her hand.

“You will forever be a lady in my eyes,” he said. “And if you are willing, be my lady? My love?”

“You’re sure?”

“More than anything. And I’m afraid my siblings will riot if we choose anything less.”

“And we can’t have that now, can we?” y/n smiled at him. “I would love that, Thorin. As long as I get to call you mine as well.”

“I would love nothing more, my love.”

#month of writing #writing prompt #Thorin Oakenshield #Thorin #Thorin Oakenshield x reader #Thorin x reader #hobbit #pre smaug #erebor #frerin durin #frerin #dis durin #fluff #tolkien

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Caught Red-Handed - Dwalin X Female (Hobbit) Reader

Title: Caught Red-Handed

Dwalin X Female (Hobbit) Reader

Additional Characters: Balin and Bilbo

WC: 835

Warnings: Nervousness, awkwardness, some confusion, first meeting, slight angst, Dwalin eats everything, taunting, and overall fluff

It was night, and you and your cousin Bilbo were getting ready to eat supper. He had made a delicious meal, and you were starving. You were just about to dig in when there was a jingle from his door. You both paused, staring in the general direction of the door with furrowed gazes.

"Are you expecting anyone, Bilbo?" You asked as Bilbo stood, shaking his head.

"Not anyone I can recall." He spoke before leaving the room. You pursed your lips as to stare off to where he had left, before hearing Bilbo speaking to someone. You stood, confused and curious, slipping out of the kitchen to the hallway, peeking around the side of the wall to spot Bilbo with a Dwarf? What was a Dwarf doing here?

"Supper. He said that there'd be food. And lots of it." The Dwarf spoke with his gruff voice, tossing his furs into Bilbo's arms and leaving the room. 

"He- He said... Who said?" Bilbo tried to ask, but the Dwarf was already gone. 

You wandered over, crossing your arms as you looked toward your cousin, "I didn't know you had friends." You taunted lightly as Bilbo swiftly turned to look at you, with slightly narrowed eyes. 

"You know I have friends, Y/N." Bilbo spoke defiantly, "Now, if you'll excuse me." He spoke, passing the furs to you before rushing to the kitchen.

You huffed, adjusting the heavy furs in your arms before tossing them on top of the old trunk in the corner. Curious about the man you heard was called Dwalin, you followed your cousin, peering out behind the wall once more to watch Bilbo watch Dwalin eat. You yourself stared at the Dwarf, curious and yet also slightly annoyed that he was eating your poor cousin's food, and yours.

Bilbo watched as Dwalin ate his supper before the Dwarf asked for more. Bilbo grabbed a piece of bread before handing the rest of the biscuits to Dwalin, who immediately stuffed his face with the bready treat. 

"It's... Just that, uh... I wasn't expecting company."

Before either of them could say anything more, the doorbell jingled again, and Bilbo's eyes widened slightly.

"That'll be the door," Dwalin spoke ominously, as Bilbo sighed and walked over.

Before he could answer the door though, you had already done so, revealing yet another Dwarf. Bilbo saddled up beside you as you greeted the Dwarf with a smile.

"Balin." He then bowed, his arms stretched, "At your service."

You giggled lightly, "My name is Y/N. At yours. And this is Bilbo." You spoke before sharply nudging Bilbo in the side.

"Good evening."

Balin nodded, looking up at the sky, "Yes, yes it is." Before he enters with a slight frown. "Though I think it might rain later. Am I late?"

Bilbo tilted his head slightly, "Late for what?"

Before Balin turned his head and let out an 'Oh!' You turned alongside Bilbo, watching Dwalin had his hand in the cookie jar. Finally, your eye met his, he stared at you briefly before he greeted Balin; his hand was still stuck in the jar. After their... To you, an odd but cute greeting, Balin continued to speak to Bilbo, as you walked over to Dwalin, who tried to get his hand out of the cookie jar. Jiggling his large hand, the jar was completely stuck around his hand. As you neared him, he glanced up at you, before trying to pull his hand out more aggressively. You tutted, placing a hand on Dwalin's arm, stopping him before placing your hands on the jar, tilting it slightly before sharply pulling down; the jar popping off of his hand instantly. 

Dwalin looked at you intensely, as you glanced up at him with a smile before taking out a cookie from the jar and handing it to him. "Here," You stated simply, holding the cookie, offering it to Dwalin, "These are my favorite." You grinned brightly.

The Dwarf stared at you incredulously, as you held your hand out, palm up expectantly. His gaze shifted to your hand before looking back at you, before finally taking the cookie; his large fingers brushing your palm delicately. You felt yourself blush as Dwalin bit into the small sweet treat, as you looked away, a small smile on your face.

"Thank you, lass," He spoke, causing you to look at him once more, "Your mate makes good cookies."

You covered your mouth as you laughed, shaking your head as Dwalin titled his head slightly, "Bilbo's not my mate, he's my cousin."

Dwalin narrowed his eyes as he tried to slow his racing heart, "Oh."

"My name is Y/N, by the way."

Dwalin muttered his name back, after he ate the last bite of his snack, he gave you an awkward nod and bid you farewell, making his way out of the living room and into the pantry. Your grin remained as you watched him leave, instantly intrigued by the Dwarf; your own curiosity sparked.

#the hobbit #hobbit #dwalin #dwalin x reader #dwalin x female reader #dwalin x fem!reader #dwalin x you #dwalin x y/n #fluff #cute #slight angst #x reader #x female reader #fanfiction #x you #x y/n #x fem!reader #fanfic #requests are open #x hobbit reader #hobbit reader

[hobbitsesoftheshire]

Rose tattoo

Inspired by Rose tattoo by Dropkick Murpheys

A/n: I just had an idea while listening to this song and decided to write this. Written on mobile and it's quite short

Pairing: Dwalin x gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: brief talk of sickness and death

You were on first watch this night with Dwalin. He was quiet and brooding as usual but you were in the mood for a conversation. You knew he wouldn't listen if you started to talk about yourself so you decided to ask something about him. Or actually his tattoos.

"So what was your first tattoo" you asked.

He was silent for moment before answering. "It was the one on m' back" he said.

You nodded and started asking follow-up questions. What was his favorite, his latest, the most painful. You were suprised by how happy he was to answer those.

The night went nicely until it was almost time to wake up Gloin and Nori. You had wondered for a while, what was the story of his rose tattoo on his forearm.

"So what about the rose one? Whats the story of that?" you asked curiously.

Right then he went completely quiet again, got up and woke up Nori and Gloin. He walked to his bedroll and decided to go to sleep. His reaction left you confused and scared that you had offended him.

Nori walked up to you and patted your shoulder as a signal that you too can sleep now. But you wanted answers.

"Can i ask you real quick?" you said to him.

"Sure, what is it" he responded still a bit sleepy.

"I was asking Dwalin about his tattoos, and he answered them all exept when i asked about the rose one, he left. Why?" you asked worriedly.

"The rose one? It's a very meaningful one"

"What do you mean?" you asked even more confused.

"Y'know he used to be married. He had a wife and oh how in love they were. S'happy. But then she got sick, and her condition went bad, fast. He tried everything to help her but it just got worse and worse. And then the sickness won. He got the tattoo as a reminder of her, her favorite flowers were roses" Nori explained.

"Oh i had no idea. I hope i didn't offend him by asking that" you said, feeling sad about the story.

"I'm sure you didn't, ye just brought up a long lost memory" he said. "But dinna worry ye self too much and go to sleep"

You still felt bad, but you could always apologise in the morning.

When the sun rose, you walked straight to Dwalin. You hadn't slept much that night.

"Hey, uh Nori told me of the story behind that tattoo. I'm sorry for asking about it" you told him.

"T'is okay, ye just made me think of her" he said while looking at the ground.

"So everything okay?"

"Aye"

#the hobbit #thorins company #lotr fanfic #bilbo baggins #dwalin #lotr dwarves #nori the dwarf #the hobbit fanfiction