#bilbo smirking and reassured of his decision

[emcant]

Had a very elaborate dream about Peter Jackson's Long Expected Party scene, except the band struck up "Thank God I'm A Country Boy" and everyone LOST it

#lotr fotr #picture everyone just dropping their plates and running to the floor like lfgoooo #bilbo smirking and reassured of his decision #frodo quietly annoyed that his first adult decision will be whether to break up a mosh pit or let it ride #but he gets pulled in before he can make the call and immediately takes an elbow to the eye #gandalf watches him walk it off and remains assured in his decisions

[shellsan]

30 Day Writing Challenge

Day Seventeen: War

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairing: Thorin/Biblo

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hobbit.

War

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Bilbo had never understood the pull of wars, and standing surrounded by corpses with his friend's lives hanging the balance, he'd understood it less.

For some reason, the dwarves seemed to glorify it. Those who were there, who fought in the moment and survived, understood better. They were the ones who would go silent, raising their ales to each other, giving respect to those who they'd lost. But those who didn't, those who had returned to the mountain long after the blood had been washed away by the wind and rain, long after the hurt was fresh, seemed to think that it was something to be proud of.

And Bilbo tried to understand. He tried to think from their perspective of the great story their adventure told, but the nightmares he still endured more nights than not made that difficult.

It was one such occasion tonight, as he wandered around the mountain, exploring a little more every day as he slowly mapped it out, unused to travel so far away from the soil covered surfaces.

His attempts to sleep had been plagued by the cries of war and the shouts as he'd watched Kili and Fili fall, injuries so dire that he feared for their lives. And Thorin. Having been so close, Bilbo could still recall the exact shade that his friend had been, how the blue of cold had settled slightly, and the red had contrasted, covering the icy surfaces.

He still remembered the words Thorin had said to him, certain that death was going to take him, and how raspy his voice had been.

Which is why hearing a group of Dwarves singing the ballad of their journey, and the following war, hit him so hard.

Images flashed through his mind, and Blibo couldn't help the way his heart squeezed in worry.

Spinning around, he immediately began to move away from them, deciding he would be better off finding company elsewhere.

Wandering aimlessly, he sighed forlornly as he heard someone else singing of that same tale.

Without meaning to, Bilbo found himself in front of Thorin's chambers, the guards guarding them looking at him with curiosity.

Shaking his head, he turned to walk away, cursing his feet for seeking his friend out in his moment of weakness.

“Master Baggins?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, Bilbo spun around to face Thorin, his heart jumping a little, but his mind immediately demanding that he check to make sure that there truly weren't any injuries left on his person.

“Thorin.”

The dwarf's eyebrows furrowed. “Were you coming to see me? Was there something I can help you with?”

Shaking his head, Bilbo fought to find something, any excuse, for his presence.

“I, uh, was just walking around and didn't realise I'd ended up here. I'll just be on my way-”

There was a snort. “Bilbo, surely you don't think me such a fool?”

Bilbo narrowed his eyes. “A fool? I never implied such, no, but I just might depending on where you plan to go with this line of thinking.”

He noted the way the guards didn't know whether to be amused or to get ready to defend their kings honour, although he didn't care much for it. The shire held no kings, and as such no king would lord over him.

Least of all, one that he claimed as a friend.

“Surely you would agree that passing up the chance to speak with a friend when your time is so limited would be a foolish decision.” There was a note of teasing in Thorin's voice, and Bilbo fought the urge to throw up his hands in frustration.

“Really, Thorin? I'm well aware that you are a busy dwarf but there's no need to imply that it's been so long since we last spoke. We spoke at dinner tonight, no less!” He pointed out, fond exasperation in his tone despite his attempts to hide it.

Thorin huffed. “Surely you would not deny a king, his right to speak with a friend? Join me in my chambers. It's been too long since we last properly caught up.” He pressed.

Groaning, this time Bilbo didn't bother to stop himself from throwing his hands up in frustration. “By Yavanna, very well you stubborn dwarf. There had better be tea involved or I'll be quite annoyed at your hospitality.”

Thorin chuckled, the sound low and deep, reverberating through Bilbo as he swallowed thickly. Yavanna, he loved that sound.

“For you, Master Baggins, I'm sure I can manage.”

Following after Thorin into his chambers, he relaxed a little more without the guards watching over him. They hadn't been threatening, but he had been all too aware of them anyway.

Thorin's light amusement seemed to turn all the more concerned however, as the door clicked shut behind them. “Will you tell me now, of what plagues you, Master Baggins?” He asked, voice softer than usual.

Bilbo took a moment to breathe deeply, eyes slipping shut as he prayed for strength, before they opened once more and he turned to Thorin. “It's nothing too important.”

“And yet it bothers you, therefore its importance is already assured.”

Warming a little at the idea, Bilbo felt his resolve to keep this to himself crumbling.

Settling into one of the chairs, he gathered his thoughts for a moment, Thorin sitting across from him in silence.

“They glorify our war. The struggles they went through. They sing of our brave adventures, but they care little for how much was actually lost. Of what could have been.” Bilbo began finally, voice thick with emotion.

Thorin didn't dare interrupt.

“I have nightmares often, terrible dreams of what could have been in each moment, 'what if' scenarios are quite the strong contender. Your near-death is a common one. I honestly did not mean to come find you tonight. I was unable to sleep, so I went on a walk to calm down, and I overheard some dwarves singing the Ballad of our journey, and it reminded me of those same dreams. Then before I knew it I was here.”

Humming in understanding, Thorin fought to find the right words to give comfort for the man he cared for. “Most of us have nightmares. You aren't alone in that. Even I often dream of the 'what ifs' and the 'could be's' of our journey. I noticed you check me, although I didn't think much of it.”

“It helps, to see you alive.” Bilbo admitted, voice soft. “I remember seeing you so pale, turning blue from the frost and cold as the snow beneath you. Sometimes I wish I could come and find you when I have such dreams. Kili and Fili as well, but I dream of your death more often.”

Heart aching, Thorin moved himself from his chair to grasp the hobbit's hand, kneeling slightly on the ground. “You are always welcome to come and find me in those cases. It's a small price to pay, even if you wake me, that you should feel comforted and reassured.”

Bilbo shook his head quickly, heart pounding. “No, no, that's not necessary. They're just silly nightmares. I can manage just fine. I have until now.” He denied.

Thorin sighed. “It is your decision. However just know that I will not judge you for it, should you change your mind.” He reassured the hobbit, squeezing gently at his hand.

Relaxing into it's warmth, a small smile played over Bilbo's lips.

“You've gotten soft, Thorin.” He teased, eager to break the seriousness of the moment.

The dwarf just chuckled again. “Only for you, Master Baggins. And I expect you to keep it secret.”

Leaning down, Thorin pressed a gentle kiss, more of a brush of the lips, to Bilbo's hand before releasing it.

The hobbit flushed red. “I suppose that can be arranged. I may need some convincing though.” He offered, stumbling a little through his awkward attempt at flirting.

Thorin raised an amused eyebrow. “Is that so? And what is it that I could possibly offer a hobbit who wants not for riches or gold. How should I buy your favour, Master Baggins?”

Licking his lips, Bilbo spoke before he could regret his choice in words.

“Time. Specifically time tomorrow night to enjoy a meal together. Just the two of us. I'll cook.”

Thorin pretended to consider this. “Very well, I fear I have little choice. I can't very well have the mountain thinking I'm getting soft after all. It'll be a date.”

He smirked a little as Bilbo blushed even redder, squeaking a little.

“I shall see you tomorrow then, Master Baggins.”

Stepping up to the door, Bilbo gave him a pointed look at his comment. “You had been not spend tomorrow calling me that either, Thorin.” He warned, the fierceness ruined by the remaining pink of his cheeks.

“As you wish, Bilbo. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Finally a good night indeed.

#the hobbit #hobbit #hobbit fanfiction #hobbit fanfic #thorin x bilbo #thorin oakenshield/bilbo baggins #30 day writing challenge

[igotanaddixon]

Fallen Stars (Thorin x OC)

A/N: Hi guys!! So this story is a full fanfiction I finally had the guts to write down. I’ve been thinking about this fanfic for 3 years now and I decided to finally post it on my Wattpas account and on here! I hope that you will enjoy it! 

Also, sorry for my absence! 

Fandom: The Hobbit 

Ship: Thorin x OC 

Chapter 1 Link 

Elentári (will remain a mystery for now, even if some of you might know who this is in the Silmarillion)

Elen : meaning ; « star »

Irmo: “Master of Visions and Dreams. Originally named Irmo, but referred to more commonly as Lórien, after his dwelling place. Lórien and Mandos are the Fëanturi, masters of spirits. Lórien, the younger, is the master of visions and dreams. His gardens in the land of the Valar, where he dwells with his spouse Estë, are the fairest place in the world and are filled with many spirits. All those who dwell in Valinor find rest and refreshment at the fountain of Irmo and Estë. Since he is the master of dreams, he and his servants are well-aware of the hopes and dreams of the children of Eru. Olórin, or Gandalf, prior to his assignment by Manwë to a role as one of the Istari, was a Maia long taught in the gardens of Lórien.” (Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vala_(Middle-earth) )

Prologue 

The air was laden with heat. The sky was shining brightly. The stars were dancing around the moon above the peaceful kingdom of Lothlórien. The elves were already fast asleep as Irmo ruled over their dreams. The light that lit the majestic trees was faint but enough to grant a safe passage through the night. The guards nodded their respect as a tall grey figure ascended the trees, stepping carefully over each suspended step. The silhouette reached the top of the biggest tree, entering the royal chambers without hesitation as no one dared to stop him or question his presence.

The grey figure advanced on the white platform, purposely staying away from the edge. He removed his pointed grey hat and smiled kindly as he approached a small silhouette over the edge of the higher platform. The small woman was lost in her thoughts while watching the stars shine above her head. She seemed at peace but deep down a great solitude gripped her heart. She has been roaming the earth for a long time and yet she did not find her real purpose. As she watched the stars, she couldn’t help but ask herself who she truly was. The girl sighed as she tore her eyes away from the sky, feeling the soft blue runes wash away from her skin slowly. The grey silhouette stopped behind her, the smile never leaving his lips as he spoke up for the first time that night.

“My dear child.” His voice said, kindness filling the air around the two lonely figures.

“Mithrandir.” The girl answered, a knowing smirk gracing her features as all trace of loneliness vanished from her heart.

“I thought that you preferred my other name, dear Elen.” Gandalf said as he carefully sat next to the small woman. Elen chuckled to herself then raised her face to look at her friend.

“You mean that you prefer your other name, my friend!” She answered the grey wizard with a cheeky smile and a raised eyebrow.

Gandalf laughed at her antics, her behavior slightly diverging from one of an elf. Ellen was smart and caring like an elf but she was also stubborn and reckless like a daughter of men. However, her courage and her beauty was something that all admire. The wizard laid a gentle hand on the small woman’s shoulder and she smiled brightly at him.

“It’s good to see you, Elen.” Gandalf said, taking his pipe out of his cloak and lit it.

“And it’s good to see you too, Gandalf.” Elen answered. “What brings you here, if I may ask?” Gandalf puffed on his pipe for a while, his eyes trailing over the landscape that spread before them.  

“I am here because I seek your help, dear friend.” At his words, Elen raised her eyebrows in wonder.

“My help?” She asked the wizard.

“Yes, my dear. I need your help for an adventure.” Gandalf said, puffing on his pipe once again.

“Well… an adventure, indeed.” Elen laughed, catching the wizard’s attention. “There’s always an adventure going on with you.”

“Not always.” Gandalf said as he tried to argue with the girl. Elen laughed again and shook her head.  

“What is this adventure truly about?” The girl asked, smiling at the wizard knowingly. Gandalf suddenly looked serious, his eyes falling on Elen who was observing him closely.

“I am aware of what I am asking of you, Elen. I know that this quest could as well end your loneliness or end your life.”

“What a beautiful way to encourage your friend to follow you, Gandalf.” Elen said, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t want to lie to you, Elen. However, I think that your choice is already made.” Elen frowned and turned her head to look at her friend.

“What do you mean?”

“You already swore to protect the line of Durin. You were the only one among the elves who wanted to help the dwarves of Erebor, I am certain that your decision is already taken.”

“So, this is what it is about… Erebor.” Elen sighed and looked once again upon the peaceful kingdom.  

“Yes… the dragon needs to be dealt with. And the dwarves have to take back their homeland. I am sure that you agree with me on this.” Gandalf continued, puffing on his pipe. Elen nodded her head.

“However, Gandalf. Do you really think that Thorin Son of Thrain will agree to have me on this quest? His hate for the elves is strong and even if I’m only half-elf…” Her voice trailed off as the rest of her sentence was rather obvious in her opinion.

“Thorin will have to agree, my dear. He doesn’t know it yet but he needs you.” The old wizard said, smiling at the half-breed.

“Well…” Elen sighed. “Alright then, where are we going?” The woman asked with a cheeky smirk on her features even if she knew that this adventure would change her life forever. Gandalf let out a sigh of relief and smiled at his friend.

“The Shire, my dear.”

“The Shire?” Elen asked. “You’re always speaking in riddles…” The girl muttered, making the wizard chuckle.

“For the task I have in mind, we will need a burglar and hobbits are light on their feet.” Gandalf answered, making Elen nod in agreement.

“You already have someone in mind, haven’t you?”

“Yes. Bilbo Baggins, an old friend of mine.” Elen nodded again at Gandalf’s answer and got up swiftly on her feet.

“Very well then…” Was all Elen answered as she quickly made her way toward her chambers.

“Elentári, my dear.” Gandalf called out before the girl could disappear. She turned around and waited for him to keep talking. “You should speak with your mother before we leave.” Elen nodded her head and disappeared into the night.

Gandalf smiled, reassured to have her on this quest. They will all need her, even if they did not know it yet.

#thorin oakenshield x reader #thorin oakenshield #thorin #richard armitage #the hobbit #thehobbit #oc #reader insert #tolkien #peter jackson #the lord of the rings #dwalin #gandalf #dwarves #erebor #bilbo baggins #thorin x reader #thorin x oc